file #23 (Patreon)

top secret

synopsis: sleepless nights and dangerous missions don't mean much when your life is on the line every shift. except when a single mistake lands you in the bed of a certain asshole and in the sights of another. untangling the conspiracy of a murdered CEO becomes a lot harder when you're tangled between the two men at the center of it, forced to choose between your fellow agent and your target. from fake dating to falling in love, how far are you willing to go to unravel the truth? and who will be there to pick up the pieces of what's left?

content: angst + plot + smut, spy au, tension, fighting, final confrontations, mentions of blood/injuries, character death, happy ending, confession, fingering, kissing, reader finally gets to be happy

₊˚ᘏᘏ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ᘏᘏ˚₊

You didn’t wait for her to make the first move. 

Every second was another one she could use to call in backup. 

Before she blinked, you were launching yourself across the table, the wine glass in your hand shattering with a single swat of her wrist. 

She gasped though, caught off guard as if she thought you weren’t going to put up a fight. As if she was still gripping the leash she once had on you. The collar might be there, your willpower bent under her white-knuckled grip, but you hadn’t broken yet.

You thought you had. 

Convinced that you were crumbled and cracked under the weight of their expectations and your own failures, but the fury burning through your veins reminded you that you had more to live for than her or him or anyone. 

If what she was suggesting had really happened, if he was actually gone, then you had someone to avenge. 

He probably wouldn’t approve of you bloodying your hand in his name.
But the idea of never getting to see his pretty blue eyes was enough for you to still plunge the sharp edge of the stem into the side of her neck. 

You knew the second you weren’t covered in blood that you missed the carotid. Only getting to feel a brief flash of disappointment before she was using all of her strength to flip you over onto your back, a low curse hissed out as you hit the coffee table, her cold hands attempting to pin your wrists. 

Drops of red hit your face, splotching your cheeks as you rammed your knee up into her silky dress. 

You weren’t operating on rational thinking anymore. Every scratch, every kick, every clawed slap was instinctual, hands and legs moving fast. Despite all that training, despite the thousand classes and hours upon hours of intense exercise they put you through, you felt less like a spy and more like an animal. 

Feral and furious, trying to wrap your fingers around her throat, the bitter scent of strong wine burning your nostrils as the spilled drinks soaked through that expensive dress they insisted you wear tonight. 

They had dolled you up for your own funeral. 

What had Y been wearing? Was he wearing a nice suit, the fabric stained with blood now too? Was someone dragging his body away somewhere down the hall? 

He had come here for you. 

He tried to save you. To rescue you instead of taking the first flight out of here. 

You hated him and loved him for it at the same time. The bitter betrayal of being left behind in the hotel room forgotten and forgiven because he’d fucking come back and paid the worst possible cost for it. 

Your fingers dug into her skin like you could punish her for it, blood and flakes getting stuck underneath your painted nails while her usually so neutral face bent in unnatural rage. 

You almost didn’t recognize her. 

The stretch of her awful lips, the sneer plastered to them as she tried to shove her palm up against your nose in an attempt to break it. You managed to dodge it, grateful that she’d been out of the field long enough to not be as nimble as she used to be. 

“You ungrateful little-” 

You spat in her face. 

It didn’t make you feel better. 

You didn’t think anything could. Not when your heart had been ripped out of your chest already, the ghost of it still beating hard enough for you to take your rage out before you were sure it would stop entirely. 

Once she was gone, would you really have anything left to live for? 

What would your future look like?

There were a hundred other agents in the building. 

You couldn’t condemn X to getting arrested simply for being associated with you. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life in a cell for murder either. 

No matter what way you sliced it, you doubted you’d be making it out of this room alive. 

So why hold back? 

“I hope you burn in hell,” you burned, shoving your hand over her mouth the moment her eyes darted towards the door. 

You couldn’t let her call for help. Couldn’t let anyone come in before your new mission was done. 

She yanked her head to the side, trying to grab your hair and pull it back, to get your grip to loosen, but your focus was on the wrong thing. Too distracted by where her own hands were, the way she was wiggling and resisting. 

You made the same-old mistake of assuming things you had no information on. 

Because the moment her mouth wasn’t fully covered, she whispered a handful of strange words you hadn’t even processed before you suddenly couldn’t move. 

One hand still stuck around her throat while the rest of you went numb. 

A bizarre iciness freezing your limbs, your eyes uselessly snapping up to her as she flashed you a blood-covered grin. 

You busted her lip at some point, but you couldn’t even recall when. 

“Don’t move,” she exhaled, freeing herself with ease before standing and dusting off her dress. “Is that so hard?”

It struck you what she’d done, horror settling deep in your bones – along with plain sorrow. 

You’d been brainwashed. 

Literally. 

They’d trained and hardwired you so you couldn’t disobey under specific commands. The terrifying part was that you couldn’t remember them doing it. 

What else weren’t you privy to? How much of your memories had been locked away by a brain that wasn’t fully yours?  

You were at her mercy again. You always had been. 

Hot tears wanted to flow. Mourning you’d been ignoring shoving itself front and center as you were forced to reckon with the unfortunate fact revenge had never been a true option. 

The only man you let yourself love was dead and you were going to be soon, and she’d get to fucking live the rest of her life in her mighty position with her own million-dollar apartment she probably owned with some pet who subsisted on automatic feeders. 

It wasn’t fair. 

Nothing had ever been – and yet, even when you were facing the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept it. 

How could you? 

You managed a glare at her as she wiped the blood from her bottom lip, feeling the still-bleeding wound on her neck next. She looked like shit for the first time in the nearly-ten years that you’d known her. 

“You’ve been nothing but a disappointment,” she grimaced as she looked down at her red fingers. 

“Same,” you forced the words out, even if your body didn’t want to let the words out. 

The door swung open, and you felt your stomach sink through the floor as your partner stepped inside. 

You wished you could tell him to go. To just run away and leave you. 

He should’ve just discarded you the day you left with the man you were both meant to arrest. Just doubled down with the rest of the agency and protected himself. 

But he hadn’t wanted to choose. 

He thought he could have both. 

The director sighed at him, as if he was somehow late. 

“It’s done?” She questioned, arching up a brow as he took in the scene. You looked up at him, trying to silently beg him to please just go. Your jaw hurt, your cheek too, but it was like someone had dug a hunting knife straight through your heart, slicing it open as every horrible emotion you ever felt spilled out.
X’s mouth didn’t open. 

But he soberly nodded, and you finally noticed the shiny piece of metal in his hand. 

Oh. 

It wasn’t enough for her to order Y’s execution.

She made him do it. 

You didn’t think you could hate her more, but she kept finding more ways to be fucking horrible. 

“Prove yourself,” she goaded him, gesturing to you as the barrel of his gun slowly aimed for your chest. “Pull the trigger.” 

Technically, he hadn’t betrayed them the same way you had. 

You supposed that was why he got a test of loyalty instead of an execution.

“Do it,” you hoarsely whispered, bottom lip quivering as your limbs remained stuck. You didn’t want to wait another second. 

You hoped he could at least be happy. 

Make something of his life after you lost yours. Meet a pretty girl. Leave this awful job with a decent check. 

You wouldn’t get to live in his apartment with him. You hoped he wouldn’t mourn you too much. 

Remember something nice between all the shit you’d apparently pointlessly put him through. 

His dark stare found yours, a silent apology gleaming as you accepted your fate. 

He pulled the trigger. 

You sucked in a sharp breath but-

It exhaled back out. 

Trembling as something awful splattered across your face, your eyes shutting as your entire body nearly crumpled at the sound of something your brain immediately scrubbed.  

There wasn’t any pain. No obvious wound. 

It took you an excruciatingly long few seconds to realize that he hadn’t shot you, stealing a brief peek at your shaking hands below to confirm that the dark red splotches on your dress didn’t belong to you. 

“Hey, hey, just breathe,” a voice whispered, and you second-guessed yourself again, briefly contemplating the chance you had actually just died and gone to heaven. 

He had to tilt your head up, lift your chin gently up and crack open your eyes open again to see those beautiful blue eyes you missed so goddamn much. 

“You’re-” 

“I’m here, okay?” Y whispered, adrenaline still pumping through you as you struggled to believe what was in front of you. 

Had he just been out in the hallway? Was this some plan you hadn’t been aware of? 

You still couldn’t move, your numb limbs refusing to respond to you as your partner sighed, walking over to-

Y wouldn’t let you turn your head, refused to let you look at whatever was to your right, keeping your attention solely on him. 

You couldn’t tell if you were stuck in freeze now instead of fight or flight, if this was what shock felt like as he

“W-what-” You uselessly started to stutter, your voice coming out as a hushed whine, fear still running rampant as a thousand competing thoughts fought for your focus. 

You let a tear fall though. 

One rolling down that he quickly wiped away, leaning in to allow his soft lips to linger against your skin as if he couldn’t resist kissing you the second you were presented to him. 

He was here. He was alive.

“We’re getting out of here.” 

♡

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” You smiled, squatting down as you watched the little girl softly stroking the fur of a short-haired tabby cat. 

“Mhm,” she grinned a gap-toothed smile back at you, scratching underneath the cat’s chin as her mom sipped her coffee close-by and watched. 

“You guys just visiting or looking to adopt today?” You casually asked, glancing between both of them. 

“Adopt,” her mom answered, but her gaze lazily scanned towards the other cats and kittens, some snoozing on the various beds and cat trees, a couple play-fighting and rolling around. “Was hoping for a younger one though.” 

Her daughter pouted, throwing a childish look behind her as the juvenile cat crawled onto her lap. 

The green-eyed cat peered up at you, purring happily at the affection she was receiving. She’d been overlooked since you took her in. A stray plucked from the street, flea-bitten and sick at first. It had taken her a while to warm up to the customers. To crawl out from a hidden cove of the cat tree in the corner. 

She deserved a good home. 

A happy one. 

“We think she’s only a year old,” you murmured, reaching out to softly pet the faint ‘M’ in the fur over her forehead. “She’s a little shy, but she’s sweet.” 

“Can we get her?” The small girl pleaded, wrapping her arms around the cat in a gentle hug. “Please?” 

“We can waive the adoption fee,” Your husband hummed, squeezing your shoulder as he stood behind you, your pink apron tied around his waist as comfort washed over you.

“Well,” she hesitated, but you could see that look in her eyes that she was going to sign the paperwork and bring her home. 

You watched it happen pretty much every week.

The little kids squealing in delight, the joy glinting in their eyes, the couples coming in to get their first pet together. 

It was nice. 

It was right. 

There were still hard decisions sometimes, but the costs of them weren’t your soul anymore. 

Even if you still weren’t sure what state yours was in these days. 

“Thank you,” you murmured to your bright-eyed lover, leaning against him as one of the oldest cats here rubbed against your ankles, begging you for attention as the bell above the front door rang, more customers coming in. 

“I’ll get the paperwork, princess,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before dipping into the back hall marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. 

X stood behind the counter, brows scrunched together in focus as he operated the fancy coffee machine with precision that didn’t quite belong in his position. 

He went by a new name now. 

You all did. 

That night still stuck up in your mind like a shard of glass, slicing through you when you didn’t expect it. It had taken on a fuzzy quality, haunting nightmares you couldn’t fully remember when you jolted awake at night. 

Sometimes, it was a soft voice soothing you back to slumber, gentle lips pressing tender kisses across your shoulder until your tears had quelled. Other nights, it was a calloused palm rubbing your back, a strong bicep pulling you into hugs you had a hard time admitting you needed.  

They had filled in some of the gaps in your sparse memory. 

After X had shot her, they had managed to sneak you out through a window and back out to a waiting car. The plane your lover had fueled up for the two of you to flee thankfully had room for a third. 

You had fainted. Or passed out. You’d been hurt worse than you realized. Cuts and bruises marring your skin you’d woken up to Y carefully cleaning, his pretty face pinched together in concern before he realized you were conscious and practically crushed you in a warm hug. 

“I love you,” he breathed in your ear, his lips grazing against the shell as his warm body pressed against yours in the chair. 

You loved him too. 

The rest you could figure out. 

He didn’t talk about the board members the same way X refused to talk about the agency you both fled. But you’d overheard him on the phone with his lawyer, and it was enough to piece together some of the aftermath. 

He signed over most of the company. Gave up what should’ve been his by birthright. But his father had left him enough burdens. Put enough blood on his hands before you entered the picture. 

He had enough saved and hidden away to make sure your new life was comfortable. 

For all you knew, there were still agents searching for all three of you. Seeking revenge for everything that unraveled. 

But you were tired of revenge. Exhausted of looking over your shoulder.

You’d gotten your seaside living. 

Gotten your little cat cafe a few streets away from a sandy beach.
You were married there. With the waves crashing on the shore and a white dress you’d picked up from a thrift store, wearing a lace veil with a priest he paid last-minute to perform the ceremony. It hadn’t even been a month since you settled there. 

All of you lived in a three-bedroom apartment above the cafe. 

For convenience. You had all dyed your hair. X had cut his while your husband grew his out. Both of them got a couple tattoos, tried to put on some more muscle. 

You weren’t sure if you would’ve recognized either of them a year ago. 

“You’re distracted today,” your roommate murmured when you went to grab the complimentary bag of treats and toys for all the adoptions. 

You glanced up at X, lips pursing together as you shrugged your shoulders. 

“Just thinking,” you sighed, but he just squinted at you behind a pair of thin rectangular glasses. 

He wouldn’t let it go. 

You supposed you should just get used to the fact they both cared too much about you to just drop anything. 

“You okay?” Your husband hummed into your ear as you stripped your fur-covered shirt off after sundown, the shower running and the hum of the exhaust fan vibrating in the air. X had insisted on cleaning and locking up downstairs, but you were pretty certain he was giving you some privacy. 

“Hard to believe this is all real sometimes,” you murmured, your own fingers trembling as you lifted up his own shirt, pulling it off and tossing it into a pile with your own clothes.

“I know,” he softly said in agreement. 

You turned to shift the shower curtain, and he took the opportunity to press himself right against your back, the bulge of his cock on your ass as his hands slid up-and-down your body. Squeezing your breast in one huge palm and slipping two fingers down to your entrance. 

This was easy though. 

Resting your head against him and letting him run his fingertips over your peaked nipples, squeezing tight as his thick digits disappeared between your damp folds. Allowing yourself to whine and go weak for him as he started pumping them in-and-out, the noises drowned out by the shower as you sighed and sucked in sharp breaths. 

There were still a few new scars you bore. 

But when there was nothing but adoration in his sweeping touches and soft gazes. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” he reassured you, his mouth planting warm kisses across your throat down to your collarbone, his fingers pressing against a particularly sensitive spot. 

“I love you,” you whispered, lashes fluttering as he readjusted his palm, making you practically ride it as he pressed down on your aching clit. 

He squeezed your chest, groping your tit before rolling your nipple between his free fingers, a satisfied groan escaping him as his teeth bit down on an already damp spot next to your flexed tendon. 

“No marks,” you murmured a soft reminder, enjoying his whine as his leaking cock adjusted against your ass. “Don’t want the customers to see.” 

“Fine,” he relented, kissing it instead as he cruelly crooked his fingers at the same time, earning a moan that most definitely would’ve been heard if you were still open downstairs. “Is it so wrong to want everyone to know that you’re mine?” 

Like the ring he’d put on your finger didn’t. 

You knew who he really wanted to prove it to.

The man he spent half the time bickering with and the other half teasing. 

Too bad for him, the door creaked open, and without looking back, you recognized the sound of his steps, the click of his tongue. 

“You guys started without me?” 

You know, you still had plenty to worry about. 

But you weren’t afraid anymore. 

You were doing just fine surviving them. 

₊˚ᘏᘏ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ᘏᘏ˚₊

a/n: and it's over! would be down for an epilogue eventually, but would you guys want more like domestic fluff or smut?