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47-shades-of-hitman · 3 years

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In Your Likeness | Chapter 6 - Bruised ego and painful memories

Agent 47 sat idly on a chair in Mr Howard’s office, facing Diana, who had taken place behind it per Howard’s earlier insistence. She had a pile of papers in front of her, her fingers steepled together under her chin, auburn hair tucked neatly into her trademark bun. The navy of her dress was nearly black in the dim light of the lamp standing a little away, which was emitting an odd, orange light.

“So, what have you learned so far? Any ideas on how you plan on bringing this mission to a successful end? Thoughts on your partner?”

He cleared his throat. “Miss (L/n) is… Kind. We’ve been training together for a few days now.”

“How does she fight? Capable enough?” Diana quizzed, jotting something down onto a file with a fountain pen the same shade as her nails.

“I believe so. It’s surprising how fast and agile she is.”

“Very good.” Diana gestured towards 47. “Elaborate, if you will.”

Agent 47 shifted in his seat.

“She’s cunning and quick and uses techniques I would never have thought of. Did you know that the best Assassins can perform something named a Leap of Faith? They throw themselves off somewhere high and then land safely in shrubbery or something soft, as if they’re diving. It’s fast and efficient – where I lack quick climbing skill, never really needing it, she can be on top of a large building in a matter of seconds and leap back off before I can even reach halfway up.”

“Higher grounds.” Diana commented. “Efficient in the art of scaling, then. Anything else?”

“Their wrist-blades. I believe she calls it a hidden blade. When she flicks her wrist, it expands and can easily stab someone a few inches deep. Convenient for quick attacks.”

Diana nodded, seemingly impressed by the findings. “That’s it?”

“No. She uses her enemies’ bodies to get herself where she needs to be, that way she can successfully throw people off, stagger and kill with just one move. It’s interesting to analyse.”

“Do you feel like you’re able to go on your first mission together, then? Did you read the files I handed you earlier?”

“I can do it on my own, too,” 47 said, “since the contract consists of just two targets.”

“Nothing of that, 47. This first mission is meant to see how you’re working together in the field. Should things not work out or get out of hand, the damage isn’t too severe and we know that we should find another way of solving Caelum. For now, this is what – and whom – you have to work with.”

A little away, you sat in Miranda’s office, flicking through the documents regarding the mission at hand – Karl Wasserman and his new wife Georgina Johnson, owners of a high-end perfume line, found themselves in fraudulent affairs with an Egyptian whitewashing company and thus, a client wanted to see them out of business.

It wasn’t too bad, but to you it was quite new; The Brotherhood of Assassins never really worked with contracts requested by individuals – your mission laid with maintaining peace for the public and protecting it at all costs. A killer for hire was not something you saw yourself as.

“(Y/n), the Eldest requires your presence.” Miranda informed you, typing away at her computer. “He says to meet him in his office in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” you said, standing up and putting away the folder.

You set for the Eldest’s office and found yourself standing at the door, waiting for Mr Howard.

Hearing muffled voices, you recognized one to belong to 47 and the other to Diana. It was difficult to make out, but you caught a few lines nevertheless.

“…But coming back to the subject of agility. Scaling buildings and parkour, is it something you can see yourself doing?”

“I’m not too sure. Miss (L/n) seems eager to teach me, but our way has proven to be perfect for decades. Why change it now?”

“You need to know each other’s methods to prevent miscommunication and confusion.”

You raised an eyebrow, not too amused with hearing of his doubts, but then, you thought it wasn’t too great of a plan either. Sure, Agent 47 was a skilled killer, you had to give him that, and he hadn’t done anything unkind to you other than aiming a gun at you during your first meeting.

In the end, you were both lone wolves. What good would it do to actually go on missions together which didn’t directly affect Caelum, like the contract you had just studied? You’d only weigh each other down.

“This is a situation none of us had foreseen.” Diana said, “We just need to deal with it in this way now. It’s too dangerous to send you both in individually. You know Providence, but you don’t know the Templars. Miss (L/n) knows the Templars, but not Providence. Both of our institutions do not fully trust each other blindly, so we agreed upon sending both sides into the battlefield. Plus, this is too large to tackle on your own. We need an extra pair of eyes.”

“Couldn’t you have asked Lucas?” 47 quizzed.

“No,” Diana said, “We need him for other things in this project. And as I said, both compan—”

“Are you eavesdropping?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at a sudden, unknown voice behind you. Instincts kicking in, you moved within a second, slamming the stranger against the wall, hidden blade at their throat. It was a man in his early-to-mid fifties – wholly unfamiliar to you – with salt-and-pepper-coloured hair and stormy eyes.

“Who are you? You don’t work here.”

You angled your blade a little, allowing him to move his head a bit upwards, away from it.

“My name is Lucas Grey. I arrived here this morning. I’m part of operation Shalom.”

You huffed, releasing him immediately as you recognized the name, embarrassment creeping up your cheeks and neck. “Right... I ah… I apologise.”

“No harm done. You must be Miss (L/n), then.”

You nodded and crossed your arms, stepping away from him.

“They’re in there, in case you were wondering.”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.” Lucas stated.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Were you eavesdropping on them?”

“No.” you lied, “I was waiting for them to be done discussing whatever they’re talking about. Mr Howard told me to meet him here in a bit.”

As if on cue, the doors of the office swung open and revealed both Diana and 47.

“Ah, I see you met Mr Grey.” Diana said.

“Yeah.” you replied, mentally adding ‘and he met my blade’, feeling ashamed regarding your childish response to his sudden appearance, even though he had said that there was no harm done.

Mr Howard approached and gestured towards the room so that you would enter.

Your gaze briefly crossed 47’s and you gave him an awkward smile, passing him and sitting down in the chair where he had been sitting previously. It was still warm-

-Wait, why would you even notice that? You shifted a little.

Diana and Mr Howard exchanged some quick words.

Meanwhile, 47 and Lucas stood a little behind them, muttering amongst themselves, and then briefly looked at you. You threw one leg over the other to shield your discomfort while you wondered if they were talking about you. Activating your eagle eye to focus on their conversation didn’t help at all, either.

Mr Howard soon entered the office and closed the doors, breaking your line of vision.

“So, (Y/n). We have a lot to go over.”

You hummed in agreement, folding your hands in your lap. “What do you want to know, sir?”

“How are you experiencing this alliance so far?”

“Well, Agent 47 is certainly a man who knows what he’s doing. He’s capable albeit a bit stiff, but there is potential to work together, sir.”

Mr Howard sat down and put on his reading glasses, running a hand through his beard.

“What’s his way of operating?”

“Silent, unseen, avoiding collateral damage as much as possible. The ICA holds a whole arsenal of resources he can use, varying from explosives to poisons and melee weapons. It’s interesting. Sir.”

Mr Howard nodded, scribbling something down. He looked up at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

“He told me he uses disguises as well. Knocks people out and takes their clothes in order to blend in, sir.”

You rubbed your arm and leaned back a little. “He hides in plain sight, sir.”

“Does he use higher or lower grounds?”

“Lower, sir.” Mr Howard wrote something down.

“Do you see yourself working on a contract with him?”

“Sir, I am not sure if this is what we stand for as the Brotherhood of Assassins. The people involved are all elite, they don’t intervene with the peace of the common people and—”

“That is none of your concern, (Y/n). A contract is a contract and you are going to fulfil it together.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded.

“You need to show us how you collaborate on the work field, hence why we have given you such a simple contract to carry out. We need to see if this goes well before trying to tackle anything greater. Behind the scenes, we’re preparing a lot. Your opinions on the matter are in this case to be disregarded of. Do you understand me?”

You bowed your head. “Naturally, sir. I apologise for doubting your choices, sir.”

Mr Howard put down his pen and folded his hands in front of him.

“(Y/n), I need to ask you something.”

“Of course.”

You straightened your back, shifting to the edge of your chair.

“You know that I am growing older. Next spring, I’ll be seventy-five years of age. In five years, I am retiring from my work as the Eldest of Council. We need new members on the Council, and I wanted to ask you if you were open to that. You’ll start in the lowest rank, of course, but you’ll be able to climb over time. That way, our people can shift one rank up and you’ll be added.”

Your eyes widened at the suggestion. “Oh, you’re catching me off-guard, sir. That is quite the request you’re making.”

He kindly smiled at you. “We want you to become a teacher and mentor as soon as you turn forty.” Your stomach churned – it would mean that you’d be given less action and mainly teaching, but your body would eventually not allow that much action anymore, anyway – “And also take up a position in the Council. You’re one of the best Assassins we’ve ever had, and given that there are no descendants to the (L/n) line, we need you to teach the younger ones.”

Biting back a sarcastic remark on both you and your brother being childless, you once again bowed your head. “I’m honoured, sir. Do you allow me to think it over?”

“Of course,” he replied, “But know this. In order for you to be promoted, we need you to work along with Operation Shalom. Give us your all.”

“Always, sir.” you said, “Is there anything else you need to know, sir?”

“For now, you’re dismissed.” he said, “If I require your presence, you’ll know.”

You stood and straightened your back, bidding the Eldest of Council a good day before leaving the office.

You didn’t feel like seeking out 47, opting for the training hall on your own.

Hearing him talk about not really needing you during his mission had struck a raw nerve –

“- I don’t need you, (Y/n). Trust me, I’ve got this.”

You closed your eyes, slamming down onto the punching bag with immense force.

Your mind was there again; Half a decade ago, the evening before your brother headed on the mission that would turn out to be his last. Anger and sorrow tugged at your heartstrings with every blow you punched into the bag, crying out behind the force of your protected fists.

“Joseph, I don’t mind coming along. An extra pair of blades will only make it easier.”

“You have plenty of other things to do. And it will be good for me to slash up some Templars to take my mind off… You know.”

Sweat travelled down your brow as you kicked your leg up at liver-height, the chains holding the bag up rattling at the disturbance.

“Okay. Be careful, Joey.”

“Of course, (Y/n)-ey. I know what I’m doing.”

Your flushed, sweaty cheeks masked the single tear escaping your eye perfectly.

You felt your wrist jolt in pain, but no matter – it was nothing compared to the pain of grief tugging tearing at your heart.

With a groan, you concluded your onslaught on the training bag, panting heavily, wiping your brow with the towel that hung around your neck.

“Are you alright?”

Sebastian approached with in his hand a bottle of cold water, handing it to you.

Quickly taking off the wrappings around your hands, you smiled and took it, gulping it down greedily.

“I’m fine. Just a bit… Frustrated with some annoying Templars who pushed my buttons this morning.” you lied. It felt bad to not tell him the truth, but secrecy was important.

“Did they provoke you?”

“They eventually regretted trying to do so.”

Seb chuckled a little. “That’s the (Y/n) I know!”

A smirk tugged at your lips and you buried your face into the towel, patting away the sweat.

“So, what’s new today?”

“Ah, nothing really.” Sebastian responded. “Laura cut a wrong wire which caused his internet to be fucked up for the rest of the morning.”

“Typically Laura.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Women, am I right?” Seb jokingly added, earning a lethal glare from you.

“I’m only kidding, women are perfectly capable of—”

“I know, Seb!” you laughed, hitting his chest playfully.

He grabbed your wrist and pushed you back a little.

“Wanna fight, huh?” you taunted with a grin, causing him to hop into a fighting stance, and you were about to lightly jab at his stomach when you heard someone clearing their throat behind you.

“Am I interrupting something?” 47 asked.

“Most certainly not.” you dryly replied, your playful demeanour replaced by severity.

“Ah, Tobias, this is Sebastian, he works in IT. Seb, this is Tobias, the exchange Assassin I told you about.”

They shook each other's hand a bit awkwardly, and Sebastian backed away slightly.

“I’ll eh… I’ll leave you two be.”

“Thank you for the water.” you told him upon his departure, but he rushed away with sudden urgency, seemingly uncomfortable.

“That’s your friend, then?”

You nodded. “He’s a bit of a dork, but I love him like family.”

47 hummed. “I supposed that we would meet up to discuss our mission.”

“Of course,” you said, “But I feel like I should shower first. Meet me upstairs in twenty.”

Agent 47 agreed on that idea to be best.

You withdrew to your bathroom, stripping down, running a quick shower.

After refreshing, you went to see 47, finding him where you had told him to meet you.

“Come with me.” you said, leading him to a more secluded area where you could talk over your files in peace, without Council members scurrying around, which would only cause distraction by typing away at documents and making phone calls.

“Sit.” you gestured to an empty seat, putting the folder on the large table in the middle of the room, stepping over to the wall to reveal the expanse of a skylight in the ceiling, water floating on top of it, appearing to the outside world as a pond. It allowed light to stream into the room and you sighed. “That’s better.”

You sat down next to 47, unfolding the papers in front of you, laying them out on the surface of the table.

“Karl Wasserman and Georgina Johnson. Newly wed, hopelessly in love, inseparable.” you said, turning to the hitman next of you.

“What can you tell me about how this works? Contracts, I mean. I rarely prepare this thoroughly for missions. Schedules always change, anyway. All I need are my eagle vision and my hidden blades. Never have any trouble.” Well, that was a lie, “Usually.” you added.

“Well, as you may have noticed, the ICA has received a contract from a client. Diana has collected all intel for me and then leaves me to prepare. I pick a few items to bring and let her know what I need. Then, I’m sent out to the target’s location and either slip in or go undercover.”

“A lot of work, then.” you mused. “How do you handle emergencies? Collateral damage and all?”

Agent 47 let out a sound. “Differently than you. The first time I ran into you, you had killed a whole bunch of politicians.”

“They were all Templars. My target happened to be among them.”

“So you don’t kill just your target?”

“It’s collateral damage we’re talking about, 47. Not actual enemies. Those Templars were my enemies.”

“How can you be sure that they were connected to them?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “No, the large Templar cross stitched on their sleeves isn’t a dead giveaway.”

47 was unaffected by your scowl.

“Right. I suppose that’s where we differ. I only kill my target and you kill your target plus all the Templars you encounter.”

“One Templar less is one step closer to protecting the Pieces of Eden. Are you telling me that you’ve never had to kill someone else while on a mission?”

“Of course I did.”

“Well, then. What’s the problem?” you snapped, prickly.

“There is no problem. It will be if you make it one.” he calmly stated.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Fine. Let’s just go over this contract and get it over with. It’s not like you need me, anyway.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he quizzed.

“I overheard you talking to Diana.”

“You were eavesdropping.”

“No—Actually, yeah, but that’s not the point, I’m just…”

You deeply inhaled, not wanting to let your chagrin take the better of you. You were an adult, for fuck’s sake, and the last thing you wanted to be petty to an assassin you tried building a friendship with. Ageing did not cause it to be easier to make friends.

And so you sighed, folding your hands in front of you. “I’m sorry.” you said. “I let my emotions become the better of me, it’s just… I don’t like feeling unnecessary.”

“Why do you think you’re unnecessary?”

“You said you’d rather do this contract alone. That I’d only weigh you back.”

“Well, don’t you think of it the same way, then? That you’d rather go on your own as well?”

You were overreacting – you knew it, but it had triggered some locked away memories about your brother. It was too soon to pour out your heart, let alone to a man who you barely knew and who didn’t know how emotion worked, and thus, you bit your lip, swallowing it away.

“We both aren’t too happy with those circumstances. Let’s just make the best of it. The sooner it’s done with, the better, right?”

47 agreed with a nod.

You reached for your papers, seeking intel on the first target, but you flinched as your hand hit the side of the table in your movement. You had forgotten about punching the bag the wrong way earlier.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” you said, holding your wrist. “Just a little accident during my earlier training. It’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

Agent 47 looked at your hand. “Let me see.” he stated, not even a question. He gently took your wrist in his hand, his skin surprisingly warm to the touch. His fingers were soft safe from his trigger finger, which now traced along the purpling hue on your wrist. “That seems like quite the bruise.” he muttered. “Maybe try some ice-”

“I said that it will be fine. Stuff like this happens all the time. I’m sure that one of my toes has been broken before, too, but I’ve never gotten it checked out. It’s still a little crooked, but it barely hurts anymore. This is not even half as bad and will be gone soon.”

“If you say so.” 47 said, releasing your hand, turning back to the table. “Let’s talk about Karl Wasserman. Have you thought of any method you’d prefer to use?”

You soon joined in, discussing your findings, yet your hand laid limply in your lap, utterly relaxed despite the slight pain you felt. Your skin was turning blue and angry, but for some reason, 47’s touch lingered.

Shaking it off, you focused on the matter at hand, deciding upon the way Wasserman should die.

#reader insert #in your likeness #Assassin's Creed X Hitman crossover #agent 47 x reader #agent 47 x female reader

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47-shades-of-hitman · 3 years

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In Your Likeness | Chapter 5 - A sliver of humanity

“Hey, you down for a run?”

Agent 47 looked up from the folder Diana had given him and saw you standing on the threshold, hands on your hips. Your hair had been tightly tucked behind your ears and instead of your usual Assassin’s attire, you now wore a somewhat more casual fit.

“Why not.” he said, standing up and putting away the documents.

You hummed and plopped down on one of the available chairs.

“Well then, I’ll wait here for a bit until you’re ready to go.”

He frowned. “Wait for what?”

“For you to put on your training gear, or something more breathable.” you said.

After a moment of silence you turned to him.

“You aren’t going to tell me that your plan was to… To run in that suit?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, a lot actually.” you explained, “People will stare. Besides, it’s very hot outside.”

“I function just right in this no matter the heat.”

You arose from your seat and crossed your arms, opposing him. “It looks ridiculous. A man sprinting in a suit like that through ancient Jerusalem. Tell you what, we’ll take an alternative route instead.”

Agent 47 wasn’t sure what you meant – “Alternative route?”

Instead of answering, you turned on your heel and left the room, the hitman soon following. He easily caught up to you and in silence, you left the Brotherhood’s quarters.

Despite the scorching heat, you broke out into a slight jog to warm up.

“Do you do parkour?” you quizzed upon approaching a wall.

“Excuse me?”

You flung yourself onto it, grabbing ridges and bricks that were sticking out, climbing up with practised ease. In about six seconds, you stood on top of a two-story building, peering over the edge to see what was taking him so long.

“I’m not sure if I…”

You pointed at the drainpipe on the side of the wall, shrugging. “Just use that. You’ll learn.”

47 climbed up and dusted down his slacks right after. “Heavily reliant on scaling buildings, aren’t you?”

You chuckled dryly.

“The Assassins have been doing that since the beginning of the Brotherhood. If anything, it’s one of our most important skills. It’s a fantastic way to go from A to B unseen, and way quicker at that. I don’t carry them on me at this moment, but on one of my bracers I do have a grappling hook which I can use to my advantage.”

Walking over the flat rooftops, you hopped from one house to the other, staying out of sight from balconies and cameras.

“The beginning of the Brotherhood,” Agent 47 repeated. “How far back does it date? Golden Age? Middle Ages?”

A laugh fell from your lips and you jumped down a ledge before propelling yourself up a higher wall, gripping the edge. After hoisting yourself up, you turned back to help 47 out, but he managed just fine on his own.

“No, 47. The Brotherhood of Assassin originates in ancient Egypt.”

“Egypt?”

“In the time of Cleopatra. The Hidden Ones were the first ones, but no one knows who they really were. Eventually, it grew out into a Brotherhood for people carrying out assassinations and protecting our employers. Long story short: through the ages, we spread all over the world. Greece, Italy, America, France, England… You name it.”

47 let out a sound of surprise, since he had never known that it dated so far back.

“Our cause was to fight for peace above all things. Protect the people who needed us to do so. Working in the dark to serve the light. Our motto – nothing is true, everything is permitted .”

You halted and looked out over the Wailing Wall, folding your hands on your back. Taking in the sight of Jews gathering to pray brought a sense of serenity.

“We fight for peace in freedom. And in that, we differ from our enemies, the Templars, or their more public name nowadays, Abstergo Industries . Once founded in the early thousands, set on claiming back the Holy Land under a veil of Catholicism, but under the surface, a whole lot less to do with whatever peace the church preaches. The Order of the Knights Templar once believed that peace could only be gained through oppression of lesser people and dictatorship.”

You shuddered even though the weather was far from cold – thoroughly appalled by the idea of them.

“And eventually, it became an institute of rich men seeking to become more wealthy and powerful. And then came the Pieces of Eden. Of course they already existed, but the more modern war about them, I mean.”

For a moment, you looked over at 47 to see if he was still listening. His eyes were as blue as the sky and made your heart skip a beat. Every time you saw that colour you remembered that they were the bluest shade you had ever seen.

Deciding to proceed walking, you stepped away, 47 in tow.

“I promise I won’t bore you for any longer.” you said, “If I’m talking too much, just say the word.”

“Well,” 47 began, “I was the one who asked you to teach me about the Brotherhood of Assassins, did I not?”

Your lips quirked upward and you exhaled. “I suppose. Tell me about you first, it would only be fair.”

“If you insist.” he said, “At the moment, I work for the ICA. It’s an organization handling contracts given by clients. I’m their hitman for particularly difficult jobs.”

“Like seeking out a secret organization created by both of our enemies.”

“Correct. As you know, I’m genetically made to be the best assassin one can create, with a very low failure rate.”

You hopped down a few roofs and reached a lower wall, where you jumped off, landing on the cobble street. Your conversation hadn’t made you able to do some parkouring through the town, anyway.

“Since you told your story quite quickly, I shall make mine short, too. I killed Ort-Meyer, who created me through his experiments, wanted to leave the world of killing by living with a priest, but eventually, he got kidnapped and I was pulled back into the trade. After all, I barely know how to do anything else.”

A large grin spread over your face as you two walked down the street, pushing past a few tourists in the process. “A priest? Never expected you of all people to take interest in such things.”

“I tended to the garden.” 47 explained, unsure why he was telling you this – after all, he barely knew you and whatever he was telling could be used against him, for he couldn’t be seen as weak.

But your eyes were kind and glimmered in amusement as you looked at him.

“Look at you, the one purely created to take lives, tends and cares for it.”

47’s gut twisted in confusion at the lack of humour in your voice. Where he had expected you to mock him for it, you were inexplicably accepting. “I suppose.” he mused.

“And here we are.” you added. “This way.”

You guided him outside of the ancient city and went uphill for a while, the Mount of Olives at your right hand.

“The Pieces of Eden, then.” 47 reminded you.

“Oh, yes.” you breathed, “The Pieces of Eden grant the holder great power over others. The Templars want those artefacts for themselves, so the Creed countered by making it their duty to do all to prevent that. And if we know where those artefacts are, we can keep an eye on them, take them to hide them away and most importantly, avoid conflict.”

“Avoid conflict? That clashes with our current mission.”

“Well, if it can be avoided. We’re not afraid to fight for it. Peace through freedom, I mean. Sometimes force is needed, and so it shall be done.” you concluded, shrugging a little.

“And you, what is your story?” 47 quizzed as the pair of you halted on top of the Mount of Olives. You were slightly out of breath because of the heat, holding your hand above your brow to shield yourself from the sunlight. The golden Dome of the Rock stood shining brightly.

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n), thirty-five years old, Master Assassin of Jerusalem’s Brotherhood. Nothing that you don’t know of.”

Agent 47 huffed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Why the interest?” you softly quizzed. “It’s not that it matters.”

“You said you wanted to become acquainted.”

You smirked, folding your hands on your back, closing your eyes to enjoy the light of the sun on your cheeks.

“I was born into the Brotherhood, like my father and his father’s father. Needless to say, we have a long history in the Creed. Not the most prominent or anything, but quite famous. My father’s side of the family consisted of ruthless Assassins, living for their trade. My father fell in love with a young female Assassin and married her – my mother. They had my brother, Joseph, and me. All was well and my parents were loved by the Brotherhood, but one day, my father died while on duty.”

Your voice faltered upon ending your sentence, and you looked at your boots for a moment, exhaling deeply. “I never really got to know the man who he was behind the blade. He trained us, and everything I know, I know from him. In hindsight, he was more a mentor than a father. I respect him greatly, but I never felt like I was his daughter. I suppose it’s a bit strange… Well, not for you. In theory, you killed the man who put you onto this Earth.”

Agent 47 hummed, breathing in the scorching air.

“And your mother?”

“She’s in Thailand, in a retirement home set up by Assassins. There she can live her final days in peace, try to forget about the passing of her husband and her son, but with her later stage of Alzheimer’s, I’m not sure where her emotions are at the moment.”

Gesturing to the side, you told Agent 47 to head down the street.

“What happened to Joseph?”

You halted in your tracks, a few tourists that had been walking behind you nearly bumping into you, muttering something angry in what you recognized to be Spanish – Perdona , you murmured, shaking your head before resuming your walk, albeit at a quicker pace now.

“I don’t like to talk about it.” you said, “Maybe another time. I’ve already told a lot about myself. Enough for now. We should get to actually working out, now.”

Breaking out into a jog, you started running down the street, passing by tourists every now and then.

“Do you often run?” 47’s voice was unusually steady given that you were dashing forward at quite a pace.

“As often as I can. Keeps me fit.”

He hummed in agreement. “Can’t argue with that.”

You went running through a few streets before speaking again – “Mind if I spice this up a bit?”

Before 47 could respond, however, you were already scaling a high wall on your left, pushing yourself up with practised ease. He spotted a drainpipe and sighed in acceptance, soon following you up the roof.

When he finally vaulted onto it, he saw that you were already a few buildings away, leaping from one with so much as the bat of an eye.

“Are you seeing this?” he asked, then realizing that Diana couldn’t hear him – after all, he wasn’t on a mission and thus he didn’t carry his trackers – and he knew that pursuing you wouldn’t bring him anywhere. Another thing he recognized was that he lacked an important skill he hadn’t realised he didn’t have, until now. You leapt further and further away, gracefully so, as if you were dancing.

Where he mostly blended into the crowd, hiding in plain sight, you were away in the blink of an eye, gone with the wind.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing him just stand on the roof where you had left him. He was watching you with an odd posture, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of your antics.

Smirking, you shook your head, resuming your trip back to the headquarters. Bouncing to the edge, you peered down the side of the roof to see if it was all still clear, and upon seeing that the bushes were still soft and plump enough to fall upon, you spread your arms, diving off.

Agent 47 felt his stomach churn in shock, his breath hitching as he watched you jump. As if snapped out of a trance, he darted to the end as quickly as he could, immediately figuring out the importance of scaling and parkour in the speed at which he was currently going.

He came to a halt at the edge and leaned over it to find you standing with your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I thought you…”

“Hm…” you replied. “Come on, let’s get back to the headquarters.”

47 slid down a drainpipe and walked up to you.

“That was… Impressive.” 47 stated as you resumed your trip back to the base.

“Thank you.” you mused, “That dive was a Leap of Faith. Took a long time to master.”

“I can imagine.”

You turned your face away, smiling in amusement.

Even though it was tiny, a bond was starting to form.

These months were going to become interesting, you figured.

#agent 47 x reader #agent 47 x female reader #Assassin's Creed X Hitman crossover #hitman #agent 47 #reader insert #In Your Likeness

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47-shades-of-hitman · 3 years

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In Your Likeness | Chapter 4 - So it begins

Your nimble fingers fiddled with the small folding knife, twirling it around in between your fingers, barely grazing the sharp blade. Your index finger hooked into the small metal loop on the hilt, giving it a firm twist around your digits, building speed. Then, with a firm movement of your lower arm and wrist, you hurled it into the dummy – right into the artery, buried deep within the neck.

Agent 47 sat a little away, observing you. The training outfit he wore was a bit too tight to be comfortable and the band-aid they insisted for him to put over his tattoo itched terribly. His blue eyes scanned your face – calm and collected, something he could find himself in. However, something else shimmered in your eyes, and he was unsure of what it represented.

“You’ve attracted yourself quite the audience.” he stated, referring to the group of teenagers, who had gathered to gape at you from the glass wall, a few meters away. You shrugged, waving it off.

“I’m the best Assassin the Brotherhood has, of course they’ll watch. They need to train to be like me one day.”

You looked over at them and smiled a little. When you winked, they shyly scurried away, like bashful toddlers hiding behind their mother’s leg upon eye-contact.

“You frighten them.”

“No.” you countered. “They imagine themselves in my stead.”

47 kept silent, eyeing you with slight interest. “So, you can throw these knives pretty well.”

“Thank you.” you said. “Mind showing me some of your skillset? We need to get familiar after all.”

He stood and walked over, leather of his garment snug against his skin. It unpleasantly creaked upon movement.

He drew his ICA Silverballer and aimed it at the dummy.

Before he could take the shot, however, you deeply sighed next to him.

“Long range? How dull.”

He raised an eyebrow before gunning three – four – five dummies clean in the head.

“You were saying?”

You walked closer to one of the dummies, inspecting the bullet hole freshly ripped into the plastic doll.

“Long range combat can be dangerous. There is no way to silence the target in case you miss, impact by missed bullets can be heard, if the bullet passes through, who knows where it will end up. And, you cannot quickly pull them behind a corner, immediately out of unwanted sight…”

“It’s critical, though. You carry a firearm on yourself, too. Unsilenced, not to mention.”

Unholstering your revolver, you handed it to him. “Small, convenient, hardly used. Almost obsolete with those bad boys on me.” You flicked your wrists in the air, revealing your hidden blades.

“One quick stab, silent and effective.” you concluded.

Agent 47 nodded at the dummies.

“Care to show me?” He walked over to them and readjusted their positions. “Let me sketch you a situation.”

You agreed, standing on the place where he wanted you to be. Within a minute, he had shifted all mannequins around.

“Imagine this. You’ve just eliminated a target and want to slip away, but the only way to do so is through the door, where a lot of guards are watching closely. They have noticed some ruckus, so they are on high alert. Think fast.”

“Six enemies… Fifteen seconds, how’s that sound?”

“Try it.” Agent 47 stated, stepping back. You deeply inhaled through your nose, crouching as if you had indeed been sneaking around to kill a target, and began your dance.

Thwack! One of your throwing knives buried itself into the head of one of the dummies whilst you grabbed the other around the throat, slashing your hidden blade across its neck before pushing it to the ground.

Then, you jumped on forward, kicking one straight in the back, making it topple over. You used its body to propel yourself into a flying kick, moving your wrist forward in the gesture. The heel of your boot hit one doll on the right spot to knock them out.

Upon landing, you burst your blade through the throat of the dummy you had used to launch yourself. Another throwing knife into the one you had theoretically only knocked out.

At last, you ran towards the final practise doll, sliding down to the floor to sweep it off its feet by using the force of your arm, blade slamming into the chest as you turned your body.

Slightly out of breath, you stood up, dusting down your attire. 47’s eyes were focused on you, slightly narrowed. “That took you twelve point twenty-eight seconds. Hardly leaving a chance to react and there’s barely room for error on your part given that you’re a skilled killer. Overall, I must say that it’s impressive.”

You smirked, putting your hands on your hips. This compliment coming from the strange hitman in front of you caused an inexplicable tightening in your gut, but you didn’t pay it any mind. It was probably the fact that he seemed to stare right into your soul, and he could either read your mind or your deepest secrets.

“So, what about you, now?” you suggested, breaking the silence. He blinked, flexing his fingers at his side.

“Of course. Give me something – Anything.”

You hummed and went to work. After a few minutes, you had made up a scenario.

“So, this dummy right here is our target.” you placed your hand on the shoulder of one of the dolls.

“In order to get to it, you need to get past guards. However,” you continued, “The door is locked. What will you do?”

Agent 47 scoffed. “Within fifteen seconds? That’s impossible.”

“I don’t care about your speed, Tobias. I want to see your approach.”

He was reminded of the other Assassins training in the same room upon your usage of his alias.

“What do I carry on me?”

“No lockpicks, crowbar, or keys. How about this…”

You tapped your chin as you looked around the room, walking over as you spotted what you had been looking for. You pulled a chest towards the set-up and found a long plank soon, too. You positioned in such a way that it was resting against the long side of the chest.

“This is an open window… And you have to scale the plank to get to it. You start right there.” you pointed at the area which you had designated to be the starting point, “I’m curious to see what you will do.”

Agent 47 took place where you had wanted him to and stretched his muscles.

“Ready?” you asked, adjusting a stopwatch to a counter of zero.

“Always.”

“Right, go.”

And off he went – knocking out a few dummies, subduing another, hiding effectively behind an imaginary wall consisting of a wooden bar to stay out of the enemy’s line of sight. He used coins to distract a few guards, if there had been any, and you moved them around to pretend that they were actually going where 47 wanted them to go.

When he eliminated the dummy by using a fibre wire, your stopwatch told a minute and a half.

“Nicely done, I must say.” you praised.

A sudden presence next to you made you momentarily tense – you had heard her approach, but her voice was so sharp that you shuddered.

“Well, well… I didn’t know we had a new recruit!”

“Hey, Sigrid.” you greeted with a wry smile.

“You seem like you know what you’re doing…” Sigrid spoke to 47, voice sickly sweet.

Agent 47 remained neutral. “Yeah. I transferred from Romania per experiment.”

“Romania… Interesting.” Sigrid twirled a lock of her black, dyed hair around her finger. “What’s your name, handsome?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you turned to the training ground in order to put everything back in place.

“Tobias Rieper.”

“How wonderful to meet you, Toby! My name is Sigrid Andres. I originate from Finland. They had me transfer here ten years ago when (Y/n) and her brother proved not strong enough. And now I need to fill in for even more empty space, since he died and all.”

Your body immediately tensed up even more than it had before – anger swelled in your chest and you had to resist the urge to punch her in her face. “Otherwise, (Y/n) wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the work Mr Howard throws her way. She’s a bit slow, if I’m honest. I believe it’s… A family trait.”

Agent 47 replied: “I’m sure that she can manage just fine on her own. She is a very capable Assassin.”

Your humourless smile was rueful and you fought the tears blurring your vision, turning to Sigrid.

“You, of all people, have the least right to speak ill to my family after everything you’ve done.”

Your voice was sharp like a blade and contained unspoken fury.

“Go take a chill pill, (Y/n). You seem a bit agitated. You should get yourself checked out because you’ve been acting strange lately.”

A scoff built in your throat and came out louder than intended. You poked a gloved finger at her forehead, pushing her back. “A chill pill , is that what the teenagers are saying these days?”

“Not keeping up with modern-day media, old nag?”

“Want me to break your nose again?” you proposed with a scowl.

Sigrid turned away from you and towards Agent 47.

“You’re wasting your time, handsome… Come train with me instead. (Y/n) is an amateur. Perhaps I can show you a few… Massage techniques while cooling down. The showers are very spacious.”

She smiled, disgustingly sure of herself and her caked-on beauty.

“I’m not interested.” 47 deadpanned.

“I’m sure you will be eventually, handsome. All the men around here long for a taste of Sigrid and you’ll soon find out why…” She bit her bottom lip, winking at him. “Hope to see you around.”

She swayed her hips with every step of her departure, attempting to be sexy and hoping to hold his attention. You facepalmed, sighing deeply.

“Sorry about that. She’s always like that.”

Agent 47 hummed, looking at you, blinking a few times. “I figured that you didn’t really like each other.”

You laughed humourlessly, scowling. “That won’t even start to describe it. I loathe her.”

Pacing over to one of the dummies, you continued tidying up the training floor.

“We need to brainstorm a technique. We have a few more days to prepare, so I suggest we meet later, after washing up.”

The idea of taking off the tight training outfit was liberating to 47. “Sure.” he agreed, following you to the locker room. Gathering your belongings, you looked at him. “I always shower in my own quarters, and I suggest head for your own. The young recruits always shower here after training or school, and trust me, you don’t want to know how much hair is clogging those drains.”

You halted at the flight of stairs – one went up, where he had to go, and one went down, where your quarters were. “Meet me here at eleven-thirty.” you said.

“Noted.” Agent 47 said, ascending up the stairs to the room he had been assigned.

You went down to your quarters, rushing over to your bedroom to take a clean set of clothes.

Since you were one of the top-tier Assassins of the Brotherhood, you had been given private living quarters. It resembled more of a dorm, with just a few basic pieces of furniture and a small bathroom on the side. The kitchen area was adjacent to it, shared with a few other staff-members. The lower ranked members, like Sebastian, Miranda and Sigrid, had to deal with shared bedrooms.

Taking a lukewarm shower, you cooled down your body, scolding yourself for not taking enough time to do a real cooling down while in the training area. The whole run-in with Sigrid had you on edge and you wanted nothing more than to relax. Sighing, you washed up quickly until all sweat had made place for the soft rosy scent of your soap.

Your casual attire was fairly simple, and you threw your hair into a bun. Knowing that it was warm outside, you put sandals on your feet.

“Hey (Y/n).” Sebastian greeted. “Care to have lunch with us?”

Miranda and he sat at the kitchen table, a whole tray of sandwiches in front of them.

“It’s not like we can finish all of these on our own.” Miranda tried to convince you.

You smiled and shook your head. “No, thank you. I need to go upstairs, I have some unfinished business.”

After taking two sandwiches and stuffing them into a brown paper bag, Sebastian threw himself into the doorframe you were about to walk through.

“(Y/n)!” he said with feign hurt. “Won’t you tell us about that new Assassin, the transfer from Romania?”

“What about him?”

“Well,” Seb continued, “You and him seemed to have fun during training.”

You shrugged. “You probably read in the report that it’s an experiment. We need to observe each other the next few weeks. Also, why were you watching me during my training? Actually, don’t answer that. I need to file a report about this first training, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Brushing past a protesting Sebastian, you made your way to the hall where you had agreed to meet Agent 47. He wore a black suit combined with a red tie, the one you had seen him in during your first encounter.

“You may dress more casually outside of mission and training, Agent 47.”

He blinked. “I prefer this outfit.”

“Alright, your loss. It’s searingly hot during this time of day. Follow me.”

You lead him through a few halls, going through several doors and finally, ascending a ladder.

“Where are we going?” he quizzed.

“The roof.” you said, “Come on.”

Pushing open the trapdoor, you climbed through with 47 following closely.

The sun stung immediately and you worried that Agent 47 might get terribly sunburnt, opting for a place in the shade, against a broken air-conditioning unit.

47 stared at you for a second as you sat down, opening the small box you were holding.

“Sit down.” you urged, patting on the spot next to you. “Trust me, you’d rather eat lunch here than downstairs. Sebastian won’t stop talking.”

“Sebastian?”

“My friend. Come on, sit. If we’re not allowed to kill each other, let me at least try to become your acquaintance.”

A bit hesitant, Agent 47 took the place next to you and you held out a sandwich. He looked at it for a few seconds. “I don’t really eat all that much.”

“It’s just one sandwich. It’s good, take it.” you said, “You need to eat. Muscle building and all.”

He took it, and for a minute, you sat eating in silence, looking over the scenery of Jerusalem.

“Beautiful city, isn’t it?” you commented, immediately unsure if 47 would find beauty in such things.

Gesturing towards a spot in the distance, you explained. “See the golden dome? That’s the Dome of the Rock, built on the Temple Mount. Well, a mount… It’s more of a hill, really, compared to the rest of the city. Gorgeous building, especially if the sun shines on it. Behind it, not in our sights, is the Al-Aqsa Mosque.”

“I believe the Wailing Wall is near there, too.” 47 added.

“Correct.” you said, “The epicenter of Judaism. There’s very strict security around all of those places.”

You shifted, finishing your sandwich, wiping the crumbs off your hands.

“Jerusalem is the epicentre of religion and politics. I can’t think of another city deemed this holy by so many cultures. I sometimes wonder how it is, though. To be able to hold onto something divine.”

47 hummed to acknowledge that he had heard you, though not certain of what to make of the comment.

“But it makes for a great cover-up, too. I don’t believe any other city is as strictly guarded as Jerusalem. Guards on every corner and in between. Tension.”

You rubbed your chin thoughtfully.

“Inside the walls the religions tolerate each other provided that they all stay in their own quarter for as far as they can, and then, only to a certain degree. Outside of here, however, they’d kill each other in a heartbeat. You’d be good to stick to my side. I know this place like the back of my hand. It’s my turf.”

Agent 47 huffed. “Still, you hadn’t noticed me roaming about those days?”

You rolled your eyes. “I have superiors who handle things like that. I just do the field work. A bit like you, actually. You take the ICA’s orders. Or your Handler’s.”

He was silent, staring at the distance. The sound of civilization was drowned out by the distance you had from it, the noise of cars honking only faint. The mosque’s call for prayer was audible from far away.

“We’re not alike.” 47 said. “I’m genetically modified.”

“You go by the name of Agent 47. Where does that come from? What’s your real name?”

“I was born at the hands of a man named Ort-Meyer, and he gave me that name. Five men funded his project with both money and their DNA in order to create a superior army of killers. The Five Fathers, they’re called. I’m one of many clones, several types before me. Needless to say, it didn’t succeed, since I’m here, and I’m the only one left.”

Your heart climbed into your throat. “You… You really have no name, then?”

He shook his head.

“Oh.”

He shrugged. “Nothing to be done about it.”

You folded your hands on your lap.

“When I was a teenager, I was briefly informed of rival organizations. The ICA, the Magpies, the Guild of Apache… We never learned about Ort-Meyer, though. We were always told that we were the ones in the right, at all times. Our motto is after all, ‘we work in the dark to serve the light’. But I still believe in what I serve is the truth.”

Looking over your shoulder, you eyed 47. “You, however, are void of emotion, are you not? Just what I heard from the rumours about you.”

“More or less.” 47 said.

“Do you stand for whom you serve? I know you’d die for the cause, but do you know why you would?”

Agent 47 looked at you, narrowing his eyes. “They give me purpose. I owe them that much.”

You shook your head. “No, 47, I don’t think so. What I think is… That you know nothing else. You were created to be a killing machine and that’s all you’ll ever know how to do. Also a bit like me.”

His jaw tensed and you stared at him for a moment before continuing, “I was created to be a killing machine, too. Born from the seed of one of the Masters, born out of my father’s love for my mother, but still, in the end, it was planned out for me. I knew how to kill before I knew how to speak. It is all I’ve ever known, and I will never know anything else. Outside of this, I’d be lost, like an orphan abandoned at the side of the road in the slums.”

You stood up, dusting down your pants before grabbing the paper bag you had brought with you, shaping it into a ball. You pressed it against you, feeling the sun in your face as you eyed 47. He still sat on the ground, gaze fixated upon you.

“It might seem miles off, but you and I are alike.”

When he didn’t reply, you started to walk away towards the door again.

Upon hearing footsteps behind you, you halted, smiling a little before casting a look over your shoulder.

“I need to know more about the Brotherhood of Assassins.”

You hummed. “I can tell you more. But under one condition.”

“And that is?” he quizzed.

“I want to learn more about you.” you said.

“There’s not much to tell.” was his answer.

“Then tell me everything there is to tell.”

He gave you a small nod. With that, you headed back inside.

#agent 47 x reader #agent 47 x female reader #Assassin's Creed X Hitman crossover #Agent 47 #Hitman #In Your Likeness #reader insert

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47-shades-of-hitman · 3 years

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New Discord server

Hello all! Here’s a link to my new Discord server since I had to delete the other one. Please be aware: You can only access it if you confirm you’re over 18 years of age.

It is read-only, so it will only be for story updates and schedules.

https://discord.gg/7h2MTB6DYQ

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47-shades-of-hitman · 3 years

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47 ways to make you mine | Agent 47 X Reader | 3/47

New Deal - GN

Spoilers for WOA season 3

The outside world was covered in a blanket of snow but you sat warmly inside, staring at the fireplace you had kindled and poked to life with some dry branches.

Still, cold crept up your shoulders and down your spine, as if it was something that couldn’t be driven away. Not until you’d see him, alive and well, after all this time.

You had lived in the cabin for a few weeks now, and Diana had long left. You were waiting, just waiting, calmly, patiently. Hoping that he’d show up.

Footsteps in the crisp snow - your head shot up towards the window, soon lowering as you realised that it was probably just a deer roaming around the foliage in search of food.

But a deer’s footing is not as heavy, and not as slow - the log cabin was approached by someone with two feet instead of four, and you figured that Diana had decided to pay you a visit, which was strange, since she never came over unannounced.

You walked over to the kitchen area to get the kettle boiling, knowing that she would like a nice cup of tea after a trip in the snow.

The door swung open and you turned to face her - though halted in your tracks, lips ajar in shock.

Agent 47 stood on the threshold, beanie on his head to protect it from the cold, boots covered in snow.

“(Y/n)?” he softly said.

“Hey, 47…” you managed to say. “It uh… It’s been a while.”

“What are you doing here?” he quizzed, stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

The sound of the kettle starting to whistle startled you a little and you turned off the stove.

“Tea?” you asked with a tiny voice. Agent 47 gave you a small nod, taking the beanie off his head before kicking off his boots.

“Have a seat.” you told him while pouring two cups, dropping two sugars in your own. 47 preferred it without. You hadn’t forgotten.

He intently stared at you as you carried a tray of steaming tea and biscuits into the room, placing it on the table before sitting down.

“I…” 47 began, blinking a few times.

It took a lot of courage to look him in the eye.

“You’re here.” he said. “Why are… Why?”

A blush spread over your cheeks. “I was waiting. For you.”

“Why?”

Your lips trembled as you tried to find the words. His questioning expression made you shy and uncertain. “Because I…”

Looking away, you shook your head, arising from your seat. You brushed over to the window, sighing in defeat. “Perhaps it’s best if I leave as soon as I can.” you admitted, “It’s best you don’t know.”

“Why?”

He had already asked you that same question several times, and yet, you wouldn’t answer it. Tears swam on the brims of your eyes and you blinked them away, taking a deep breath.

“Because you don’t… Wouldn’t…” you couldn’t get out the words. “There is no way that you could…”

He stood, walking over to you. “What are you trying to say?” “I love you.” you blurted, pushing past him to the bedroom before awaiting an answer.

Agent 47 approached, standing on the doorstep as he watched you throw some shirts into a worn down suitcase. “You can say it, alright?” you bitterly muttered.

“Say what?” “That you don’t love me back. Then I can move on with my life and...”

You rubbed at your eyes, trying to hide the tears spilling over your cheeks. “Here, I was, hoping that you’d return. And I made up a hundred scenarios in my head and went over them, as to what would say to you, or what I would do, or what I could suggest, but…”

A deep sigh left your lips and you rested one of your hands in your neck, straightening your back, attempting to calm yourself down. “Now that you’re here… Things are so different that I don’t know… I don’t know what to say.”

Agent 47 calmly stared at you, taciturn as ever.

“It was silly of me.” you muttered, “And naive. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m happy that you did.” 47 told you. “Because I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

Your head shot up in disbelief, a deep frown forming on your brow.

“You’re just saying that because you think I want to hear that, don’t you?”

“No, I’m saying it because it’s true.” Agent 47 stepped closer until he was an arm’s length away, and you looked up to let your eyes find his. “You mean a lot to me, (Y/n).”

“But you don’t love me in the same way.”

“I don’t even know what love is.” he admitted, “So no, I don’t.”

You stepped back and turned back to your suitcase, continuing to pack it.

“I knew that you’d break my heart, and yet-” “Teach me.”

You halted in your actions and sharply inhaled. “Beg your pardon?”

“Teach me how to love. My future is suddenly mine to decide upon, and I’m happy that I ran into you, because whenever I think of later, I think of you. I’d want nothing else than to have you there, and I wish for my heart to belong to you.”

Again, you cried, but this time with happiness. “Oh, 47.” You reached for his hand and gently took it, squeezing it. “I will be patient.” you promised, “And if there is anything you need, just say the word. I…”

Pausing, you stared into the icy blue of his eyes, gently smiling. “I want to walk into the future with you.”

“The past is behind us.” Agent 47 told you. “Whatever is ahead, I want to face it together with you.”

Oh, how much you wanted to kiss him right then and there. It would be too intimate for now. “Can I embrace you?” you softly asked, and he gave you a nod of affirmation.

Burying your face against his chest, you felt how his arms wrapped themselves around your form, a bit ill at ease, but he’d get there. He smelt of pine and nylon, mixed with the scent of cologne and a hint of sweat.

It locked into your memory as the scent of the future - your future.

#47 ways to make you mine #47 ways

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In Your Likeness | Chapter 3 - Improbable alliance

The tension in the room was as thick and lasted for several seconds.

“You’ve met before?” Mr Howard quizzed, voice faltering. You gave a short nod in response.

“Clearly.” 47 muttered. He flexed his fingers, his arms awkwardly at his sides.

“I trust there is good reason for the ICA to be here, then.” you stated, maintaining eye-contact with the man who you’d had a standoff with a few weeks prior.

The unfamiliar woman, with auburn hair pulled back into a bun, stepped forward. She wore a black turtleneck despite the high temperature in the room and had a clipboard in hand.

“We are not here on behalf of the ICA, but on our own. We are involved with them, but the reason why we are here is not on their agenda. My name is Diana Burnwood. I’m Agent 47’s Handler. I followed him on his mission last month from a distance. I must say, (Y/n) (L/n), up close, you look a lot more terrifying.”

She held out her hand. “I like you already,” she said, “Fearless. Fierce. Cunning. We need you on our team.”

You ignored her attempted handshake, folding your hands on your back, straightening it to make yourself seem taller. “I should’ve ended him when I had the chance, then. Even though my code had gotten the better of me. I don’t like people on my territory, let alone people in the assassination business.”

“Yet you did choose to not kill him.” Diana countered.

“He didn’t kill me, either. Shall we get to the point?” you snapped. “Mr Howard sir, please.” Your voice softened whilst talking to your superior

Mr Howard cleared his throat. “This is something that will interest us all. Upon it relies the future of not only the Brotherhood of Assassins, or Jerusalem, or the Middle-east itself. No, this is of importance for the entire world.”

You stepped over to the Brotherhood’s Eldest of Council, gazing over his shoulder to look upon the papers. When he noticed you were doing so, he withdrew them from your line of sight.

“We’ve stumbled upon documents which weren’t meant for our eyes.” Howard explained. “The brief version of the story – our sworn enemy, the Templars, also known as Abstergo, are now working together with our new ally’s sworn enemy, Providence.”

You sucked in a breath, your eyes momentarily flicking over to Agent 47. He just stood there, staring at you in silence. His mind raced with whatever was going to happen and why this unlikely cooperation was occurring in the first place.

“New ally? Just like that?” You paused, flexing your jaw in slight annoyance. “What do you require of me, sir?”

“You are our best Assassin, (Y/n). Together with Agent 47, the ICA’s best assassin, you will need to dismantle their little collaboration from the inside out. We will all profit from this.”

Opening your mouth to talk, you hesitated. Speaking out against your superior would be seen as disrespectful and would most likely get you into deep trouble, and so you re-formulated the words in your mind to make it sound as neutral as you could.

“I am more of a lone wolf, sir.”

“Me, too.” 47 added. For a moment, your gaze crossed his.

Mr Howard looked from you to him and shook his head.

“Do you think you get a choice in the matter? Learn to work together or perish in trying.”

“Sir, I—”

“Silence, (Y/n). I said that you have to deal with it.”

“Of course, sir.”

Thomas Howard sighed and gestured towards Diana. “Miss Burnwood, if you will.”

“Naturally.” she said, walking over to the digital board on which were projected a few photographs. Their faces were unfamiliar to you – a man with a moustache, another man, this one in his early thirties, and a woman with small, bruised pinpricks on her forehead, a tell-tale sign of botox injections.

“A small amount of subjects, so to speak. We can’t name them targets yet, for we can’t be sure whose deaths are necessary yet. The letter we got into our hands contains classified information, which I will share with you. Everything said within this room, will stay within this room, do I make myself clear?”

The people around nodded in agreement, but you knew it was your answer Diana was after.

“Of course, ma’am.” you muttered, gritting your teeth.

“Very well.” she said, pressing on a button of a laptop’s keyboard to proceed a slide into the briefing– the man with the moustache was now projected on his own, along with a few other pictures of him.

“Ser Harold Latimer, rank-climbing member of the lately-growing Providence organization, was supposed to receive a letter from the Templar Grand Master ruling Paris, Xavier du Loire. Needless to say, it never arrived, since we have it right here. A small citation, if you will, to give you an inkling on what this is about.”

The citation on the screen read the following.

“(…) And so I trust that with our previous correspondence, we have come to an agreement that, in fact, the Templars of France will be intervening if Providence were to be attacked from whatever outside source. But most of all, not only our allyship, but the storage of nuclear weapons underneath the Eiffel Tower, all to Providence’s advantage, should the need arise.(…)”

With your interest piqued, you focused a bit better on the pictures.

“Nuclear weapons in the hands of the global elite. I see where this is going.”

Diana hummed at your statement, continuing the presentation. The younger man, Xavier du Loire, a Templar cross stitched onto his coat. “This is Mr du Loire, as the description states. Thirty-three years old. He has been the Templar Grand Master in Paris for three years now, the youngest to date. Recently married a young woman who just barely reached legal age.”

You flinched. “Poor girl.” you stated, pressing your lips into a tight line.

The next slide, the woman. “Loretta Williams, a whole lot more tangible so to speak. Upon tapping a few phone calls from Latimer's burner phone, her name came up. She’s a scientist and appears to be creating a vaccine, but we aren’t sure what it’s for yet. She currently resides in Rio de Janeiro, but she will soon be transferred to Belarus. We need to keep an eye on her.”

A photograph of a sigil, one unbeknownst to you. One seemed to be the familiar Templar cross, but a strange origami bird seemed to have laced itself around it, as if it was holding it.

“The Templars and Providence have created a secret shadow-organization going by the name of Caelum in Terra , or Caelum for short.” Diana explained.

“Heaven on Earth.” you interpreted, narrowing your eyes.

Diana slightly smiled at you. “Exactly. We don’t know a lot about them yet, other than that they have bases in Nairobi and Jakarta. But according to our reserach, those locations do not exist anymore. Intel we do have, strongly suggests that those are the elite of the elite , like the Partners, or the General of the Cross, even higher than that.”

You folded your hands on your back, pacing around the table of files, inspecting an open folder in front of you. “Who are the Partners?” you quizzed.

“That isn’t of importance at the moment.” Mr Howard replied. “What matters now is Caelum .”

“What does it have to do with us?” you questioned, nodding at 47.

“Well, this is not going to end without bloodshed. And we need our two most capable assassins to deal with the job.” Mr Howard told you.

“So that’s you, (Y/n), and Agent 47. Rather to be called by his alias, Tobias Rieper. For the record, he’s a transfer Master Assassin from Romania, here per experiment. He will be here for an undecided amount of time before you will head to Romania to train for yourself, this to exchange knowledge between Brotherhoods. Is that clear?”

You swallowed, casting your eyes downward. “Of course, sir. All is clear, sir.”

“Then repeat what I explained.”

“Tobias Reiper—”

“Rieper.” Mr Howard corrected.

“Tobias Rieper is an exchange Assassin from Romania. He will reside here for an undecided amount of time to train with me. That way we will be able to learn from each other. After this, I will travel to Romania to train there myself. This is an experiment which will decide if this method works to exchange knowledge between Brotherhoods. Sir.”

Thomas Howard nodded. “Alright. And you, Mr 47?”

“He doesn’t need to repeat it.” Diana explained, “He will do as we have just agreed upon.”

She pressed the key to the final slide. “You two will be working together in close contact, training for a week before we will evaluate the results. Meanwhile, Mr Howard and I will research whatever intel we can get our hands on. After this is done, this alliance will be dismantled and we will part ways once and for all. But until then, we call a truce, so we do not tolerate any violence towards each other.”

“Of course.” 47 stated.

“Naturally.” you added, looking at him, wryly smiling.

“Well then, it’s settled. Operation Shalom is hereby in action. I will inform Lucas Grey on the matter. He will be coming over post-haste. He is not affiliated with the ICA, but for the record, the ICA does not know about this project.”

“A shadow ally.” you mused, laughing humourlessly. “Are we allowed to bring our random friends into the mission, too?”

“(Y/n)!” Howard warned, causing you to swallow thickly.

“I apologise, sir.”

“Don’t apologise to me, apologise to Miss Burnwood.”

You turned to the woman with the auburn hair. “I apologise, Miss Burnwood.”

“No need.” she said. “We will be getting along splendidly. Now, Agent 47, you will be assigned a room for yourself. I believe Miss (L/n) will be able to show you around?”

You sighed and nodded. “Of course, I can do that. As long as you don’t try anything funny.”

“I am not planning on doing anything of the sort.” 47 stated, coming to stand next to you.

“So, for the first few days, you are expected to train together in the training room to get familiar with each other’s fighting style, weaknesses and strengths. From what I know, your methods are wildly different, so there’s work to do.”

You gave a firm nod, turning to the door. As you arrived in the stairwell, when you noticed that 47 was following you, you halted in your tracks, turning to face him. “You know that you don’t have to follow me like a desperate lap dog.”

“Well, I don’t really know where my quarters are.”

You hummed, nodding forward. “Alright. Let’s go, then.”

Upon showing him where he could unpack, you left for your own quarters, mind running with questions and thoughts. What was this even going to be about, you wondered. With a sigh, you went to your room, deciding to read for a bit.

It was past dinnertime when Sebastian barged into your room, a plate in hand.

“Hey, how’s my favourite Master Assassin?”

You put your book away and rolled on your side to face him. When you noticed the slice of pizza he brought with him and handed to you, you gasped.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have!”

He chuckled dryly and scratched his neck when you started eating from it eagerly.

“Well, that’s what you get when you don’t eat properly. You get hungry to the point of breaking.”

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t suppress a smile.

“Oh, shut it.”

Whilst you munched on your pizza, Seb sat down at the end of your bed, looking at you curiously.

“I heard Bethany got injured today, on the mission you had to fulfil this afternoon. The kill isn’t confirmed, but she said that she has seriously wounded our target. What happened? Why didn’t you go to do it?”

You stopped chewing and thus half a slice of pepper hung from your mouth, causing Sebastian to chuckle. Quickly putting it in your mouth, you sighed. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you. It’s cute.”

His dark eyes shimmered strangely and you frowned at him, a bit puzzled.

“But,” he resumed, “Please answer my question.”

“I had to meet with a new Assassin.” you said. “Someone from Romania. Exchange program.”

“Exchange program?”

“Yeah.” you said, wiping your mouth on the napkin that Sebastian had brought along with the pizza, putting away the plate. “I am going to train with him for a while, and then I’m going to Romania to be trained by him.”

“Him?” Sebastian quizzed, narrowing his eyes a little.

“Yeah, Tobias Reiper? Rieper. Really strange, that one. Very quiet and reserved, I’m curious to see what he’s capable of. That way we can keep our knowledge up to date, you know?”

Sebastian chuckled nervously. “As long as he doesn’t try anything weird. I would hate to see you get hurt.”

You smiled at him. “Oh Seb, you’re sweet. You know that I can stick up for myself, right?” You winked at him.

Sebastian gulped. “Of course, (Y/n). Well, I will leave you to it then. I suppose you need to sleep early to get to training with Mr Rieper.”

You hummed and bid him a good night. Sebastian rushed out of the room, not even taking the empty plate with him to the kitchen. For a moment, you stared at the door and rubbed your chin, puzzled by Sebastian’s uncommon reaction.

But he had been right – you had to get up early, and thus, you went to prepare for bed

#in your likeness #hitman #Assassin's Creed X Hitman crossover #agent 47 x reader

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47-shades-of-hitman · 3 years

Text

Reality | Lucas Grey X Reader

He’s a broken man, but with you at his side, he feels stronger. You can’t change Lucas’ past, but you can help him tackle the future instead.

Warnings: PTSD, mentions of death, explicit sexual content

A stirring underneath the blankets, restlessly moving. A sudden jerk of strong legs roused you. You opened your eyes at the slight discomfort and noticed him tossing next to you, followed by a gasp.

Panting, Lucas Grey sat upright in bed, supported by his hands on the canvas of the mattress, sweat travelling down his brow. You turned to face him and snaked your hand onto his stomach, calming him down.

“Lucas…” you whispered, concern readable on your face, the soft caress of your fingers on his bare skin causing him to sigh.

“It’s nothing, (Y/n).” he assured you, “Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep, my darling.”

“Your nightmares aren’t nothing, Lucas…” you whispered, leaning up to smooth back some of his hair before letting your hand rest on his cheek. “Your fears are valid.”

You worried about him, often.

“Tell me about your dream.”

It was something you occasionally asked him whenever he was startled awake past midnight, short of breath, clutching at the sheets.

Lucas let out a soft sigh and laid back down, rolling on his side towards you in order to pull you against him. His fingers cradled around your waist, yours stroking at his jaw.

His stormy eyes locked with yours and you gave him a reassuring look, allowing him to pour out his heart.

“It was the one where you died again.” he confessed, voice quivering, lips slightly askew as he paused, “But this time, instead of Ort-Meyer, it was 47 who pulled the trigger. There was so much blood, and…”

His eyes closed for a split second and his hand slipped to your stomach, protectively resting on it. You weren’t far, but it was there - the swell, and the knowledge that life was growing inside of you. “I was so afraid.” he whispered. He tried to sound strong, but he didn’t have to - not in the loving shelter of your arms, where he was safe, and beyond the grasp of his past.

To prevent tears from building behind your eyes at his pain, you gently brushed your lips against his cheek, grazing them against the stubble. “I was so afraid that I’d lose you both.” he added, his hold on you unconsciously tightening.

“I’m here,” you promised. “We are here.”

Carefully rolling on top of him, you straddled his hips, a huff of amusement leaving his lips as his eyes shot open, watching you with newfound curiosity. He got an inkling of what you were up to, and the trembling of his lips was gone.

“Tell me more about it.” you sighed, burying your face in his neck. “Tell me about what you dreamt… Let me replace those memories with good ones. Let me drive them away so they’ve got nothing against you.”

His fingers came to rest on your bare thighs, possessively almost.

“I dreamt that Diana told me that my happiness would compromise the mission,” he started, “That our baby would make me unable to do my work… And so she ordered Agent 47 to kill you in front of me…” Slowly, you started to grind your hips forward, your mouth sucking at his neck. Lucas’ breath hitched, hands grabbing your thighs.

“What happened then?” you sighed, your lips moving down to nip at his collarbone.

Lucas let out a grunt as you grazed his clothed crotch, which was growing erect as you bucked against him.

“He… He pulled the trigger even though I begged him not to...” he managed to let out.

“Okay.” you replied, “And now tell me the reality… The reason why that nightmare is far from real and what is real instead.” Your hands slipped under your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it into the bedroom to reveal your breasts to him. His blue eyes darkened upon the sight and he let his hands grab onto your waist, thumbing at the soft flesh of your swelling stomach.

“The reality is…” he said within a deep breath, biting his bottom lip, “That those dreams aren’t real… That you’re here, on top of me…”

“Yes,” you responded, “And what else is real?”

A soft smile spread over his lips as he eyed you, a fond sigh leaving him, for he knew what you would say. “Your love for me.”

Your reply was a hum of acknowledgement alongside a gentle kiss to his lips, though he soon deepened it with a brush of his tongue. They slipped against each other, fighting for dominance, but the situation soon decided that this was no case of who was stronger than the other; it became entrancing, like a lover's dance, Lucas’ fingers soon tangling into your hair as your nipples brushed against his bare chest, teasing, heralding something soon to come.

“You’re so beautiful.” Lucas told you, “More beautiful than life itself.”

You leaned your hands on the sides of his head against the pillow, your bodies fully naked apart from two thin layers of underwear. Lucas pressed a sigh of a kiss against your neck before he let his lips cascade down your breast, wrapping them around your nipple.

A mewl left you and you allowed him to start sucking despite the sensitivity your pregnancy brought along. His beard roughed against your areola and you bit your bottom lip, pressing your thighs closer around him as he hummed, sending vibrations down your spine.

He stuck out his tongue, which was coated with saliva, and you tapped your breast against it, smiling fondly as he lapped at it, kissing down onto your nipple once you sank down on your elbows, pressing your chest into his face.

After a few seconds, he laughed a bit and pulled back from you, leaning up a bit to face you. “You taste amazing.”

“Are you sure about that?” you murmured, dipping your hand between your legs for a moment before pressing your pleasure-sodden fingers against his bottom lip, and he opened up, so you could slip them against the hot expanse of his tongue, letting him taste you.

He relished in the flavour for a moment before letting it fall from his mouth, leaning up to cup your face and pull your lips against his.

You were underneath him with a swift movement. He connected his lips to yours and you could vaguely taste yourself, smiling as he wrapped a hand underneath your leg, pulling your knee over his hip. His erection pressed against your clothed core, teasingly so.

“Needy?” you murmured, whimpering as he rubbed himself against you.

“Who, me?” he said with a smirk.

All bad thoughts he had been having were driven away by the image of you, beautifully naked underneath him.

“I’m such a lucky man.” he muttered, not sure if it was to you or to himself, and hooked his deft fingers around your panties, tugging them off. “Fuck, you’re drenched.” he told you, letting his thumb slip against your swollen clit.

Biting your lip, you let out a moan. “Of course I am…” you told him, “With a man like you around, it’s difficult to not be soaked all day long.”

He smirked and eyed your folds, momentarily in awe at how wet you were. Perhaps it were the hormones that made you even hornier than normal, but you curled your toes and spread your legs a little further for him. He chuckled at the glistening of your juices and soon moved, the absence of his body above yours leaving you slightly cold.

It would be worth it, you knew, for he soon lifted your knees over his shoulders, positioning his face in between your legs. He deeply inhaled, his blue eyes finding yours, lust-blown and promising.

“So beautiful…” he praised before slipping his tongue into your cunt, wasting no time by grazing his nose against your straining clit. You let out a moan, groping at your breast, pinching your own nipple as he licked into you. “Lucas…” you mewled, exhaling with a shiver behind your voice.

He gently hummed against your flesh, stubble roughing against the insides of your thighs and your folds as he pressed his nose into your flower, eating away at you as if his life depended on it.

Carefully eyeing you, he raised an eyebrow at your responsiveness, mischief twinkling behind his eyes. You should be comforting him right now, the roles reversed, you should be bobbing your head up and down right now with your lips onto his sex, not the other way around.

But he loved this just as much as you did - the way you were writhing underneath him, the way your toes curled, the way you clawed into his salt-and-pepper coloured hair to pull him impossibly closer - you couldn’t be more endearing to him, and happiness grew in his chest, causing is eyes to water.

“You don’t know…” he began, slipping a finger inside of you, “You don’t know what you mean to me.”

He prodded gently at your g-spot, rubbing his fingers against it. You bit your lip, moaning. “L-Lucas, I…”

“Don’t say anything, (Y/n). Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

He made a come-hither motion, stimulating the spongy pad of flesh. Your toes felt funny and you locked your legs together behind his head, causing him to laugh lightly.

The ring of flesh tightened around his fingers and he leaned down to suck your clit against his tongue, stubble lightly scratching your folds.

The pit in your stomach tightened and you were filled with the need to have him in your mouth, and you sighed that your orgasm was rapidly approaching, your back arching into his touch.

“Not yet.” he tutted, pulling away from your soaked cunt, hoisting your legs off his shoulders and pressing his pelvis forward instead. The clothed expanse of his cock pressed snugly against your pussy, terribly close. He was rock-hard and you bit your lip to fight the smirk on your lips.

He ground his hips forward a few times, soaking his briefs with your slick, before he decided to finally take it off, popping free at the disturbance, proudly glistening and weeping at the slit on the tip.

You sneaked your hand around it, jerking it a few times, forming a circle with your fingers for him to fuck into once, twice, and then he grabbed your wrist, guiding your hand to lay next to your head.

Lucas mounted you, using his other hand to guide himself inside, and you moaned at the intrusion, smiling at the throb of his length against your inner walls. He let out a grunt, closing his eyes, rolling forward.

“(Y/n)...” he groaned, as if you were doing anything at all other than just lying here at his mercy, but you figured that your immediate clench had something to do with the song falling from his lips, and he leaned down to roughly kiss you, licking into your mouth to make you taste yourself, whilst he pummeled his pelvis against you with a swift movement.

A hum built in the back of your throat and vibrated against his tongue, causing him to smile. Lucas pulled back from your face, instead burying his head in your neck to suck on the skin of your throat. Heated and incredibly aroused, you threw back your head against the pillow, allowing him greater access whilst his teeth grazed across your chin and jaw, tongue at the fresh bruises forming underneath the surface.

His body was slick atop yours and you hooked your legs around his hips, ankles locked together, his girth swelling inside of you as he grabbed your waist, thrusting forward before letting his hand slip to your soaked flower, massaging at your clit.

“No matter what,” he groaned against your neck, his body soaring at the feel of your slippery heat around him, your breasts pressed against his chest firmly as he pounded into your depths, “No matter what,” he repeated, “When I’ve got you at my side, I’m the happiest man alive.”

The combination of his sweet words, your arousal and the scruff of his abdomen teasing at your clit with every roll of his pelvis - it was enough to push you over the edge.

You moaned, arching against him, momentarily losing control over your body as pleasure spread to your toes and fingertips, your mind growing hazy.

“Lucas…” you managed to moan, using the oxygen you so desperately needed under the hitching of your breath. “I love you.”

He pulled away from your neck, a drop of sweat dribbling down his chest as he did so, and he pulled out to rub the tip of his cock against your satisfied clitoris, gritting his teeth before groaning.

Stripes of his seed landed on your stomach, creating even more of a mess than there already was.

“I love you too, (Y/n).” he sighed, attempting to catch his breath as his eyes roamed over you. You looked divine, sprawled out, all for him, so vulnerable and beautiful.

“Are you feeling better?” you softly quizzed as he laid down next to you, his arms immediately around you. You pushed some hair from his eyes and caressed his cheek, rubbing some remnants of your arousal from his beard.

“Way better.” he sighed, “Now I dare to go to sleep again. Those nightmares, they’ve got nothing on me. Not with a wonderful woman on my side, who takes such good care of me.”

You smiled, staring into his eyes as exhaustion took over.

“I’m glad.” you whispered to him, and he caught your hand caressing his cheek to kiss your palm lovingly.

“Thank you.” he mused. "I'd be nowhere without you."

“Any time.” you replied, swallowing the emotional lump in your throat, and he closed his eyes with a content look on his face.

And so you waited, listening to his breaths, whilst the evidence of your love-making dried on your thighs and stomach, until he was fast asleep, soft puffs of air leaving his lips.

Happiness grew within you, and you were thankful that he was your future, and you were his.

#lucas grey x reader #hitman #nsfw #smut

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