#like first of all even if private jets were clean I don't even like travelling that much so I would not care about them. secondly go die !

[thebusylilbee]

me : "flying private jets and using super yachts is quite literally a crime against the planet and humanity"

some immoral cunt almost immediately : "you're just jealous bc you wish you could commit the crimes against the planet and humanity yourself :))) check And mate haha :)))))) because obviously ecological crimes are so inherently sexy and cool why would anyone not want to do them ever :)))) I am very smart :)))))"

[thefallennightmare]

One Mind-Five

Pairings: Druig x Eternal!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, swears, and maybe some smut here and there.

Summary: For so long, the Eternals were on their own. That was until a Celestial event brought them all back together. Reader is reluctant to help because in order to do what her fellow Eternals are saying, she would have to connect with a century old love; one that she promised herself that she would never work with again.

A/N: I really don't know how many parts this will be. Kind of going with the flow.

TAGS (OPEN): @niiight-dreamerrrr @moonlightreader649

“Son of a bitch!” I hissed, smacking the hand away.

Druig shook his head with sheer annoyance. “I have to clean your wounds, but I can’t if you keep smacking my hands away.

“Haven’t you ever heard of gentle hands?”

A playful smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I think we both know my hands are always gentle, love.”

My face burned red when I realized exactly what he had been talking about.

“So cheeky,” I teased.

Druig continued on trying to clean my wounds, but he let out a deep sigh. “I can’t see anything with you sitting like this.”

I was sitting on the edge of his bathtub, body leaning all the way to my left while I tried to hike my shirt up as high as I could.

He looked around the small bathroom before nodding towards the bed in the other room.

His bed, our bed.

“Dru, I’m still covered in blood and deviant guts. I don’t want to get your sheets dirty.”

Druig remained silent, only standing to his feet and extending a hand towards me; clearly not bothered about the fact I was about to ruin his bed.

Swallowing the nervous lump in my throat, I allowed him to help me up from the edge of the tub and walked slowly towards the bed. As I was about to lay back, Druig stopped me.

“I need you to take off your shirt.”

My brow raised. “If I wasn’t bleeding from three different holes on my side, I’d kick your ass for trying to get me naked.”

Druig shook his head with a smirk. “It’s nothing I haven't seen before, Y/N. But I need to get a better look at your wounds to clean them.”

When I didn’t move, he let out another sigh. “I promise I won’t look at any part you don’t want me to.”

He made a cross over his heart, another action showing that he meant his words.

Lip caught between my bottom teeth, I searched his eyes and saw that he truly meant what he said.

Slowly, I began to lift the shirt above my head and tossed it in a heap onto the floor. It was covered in blood and dried Deviant blood and guts so needless to say, it was trashed.

Even if I stood in front of him in pants and a bra, Druig’s eyes remained on mine as he laid me gently onto the bed, the pillow being the first thing of comfort I felt in days. We traveled on Kingo’s private jet, and those seats are anything but. As I took in a deep breath, Druig’s lingering scent from the pillowcase engulfed my senses and I closed my eyes, body relaxed instantly.

The pads of his fingers worked quick but gentle as he brought the peroxide covered cloth over my wounds, the stinging sensation paled in comparison to the way his fingers felt against my cold skin.

Wind blew in through the open window, curtains dancing at the floors, and in the distance outside, I could hear chatter from the other Eternals. While Druig and I were in here, the rest of them were getting ready to have an impromptu funeral for Gilgamesh.

My heart ached for Thena, knowing that she lost someone that she loved so dearly. Gil had been by her side through everything and even with Thena’s Mahd Wy’ry, he never left.

I turned my head towards Druig, a sudden wave a guilt washed over m, and I needed him to know how sorry I was for leaving. Even if we already apologize, I needed to say it once more.

Druig worked precisely as he slowly stitched up the wounds, eyes glued to them. With Ajak gone, we didn’t have someone to heal us which meant we needed to heal the old fashioned way.

I marveled at the way his bottom lip was caught between his teeth as I quietly muttered his name.

His eyes fluttered up to me while releasing his bottom lip. “Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head. “I wanted to apologize again for leaving.”

“We can talk more about it once this is all over,” Druig gave my thigh a squeeze.

“Does that mean you’re coming with us?”

His body tensed as my question and I realized that he was still unsure about his decision.

“Why are you even going, Y/N?” He questioned, halting his actions for a moment.

I did my best to shrug. “Believe it or not, I love this planet even if it has a bunch of flaws. There’s people here that I care too much about to let die. I’m not ready to give it all up quite yet.”

It looked as if he was mulling over my words and I wondered if it helped or deterred his decision.

Silence fell between us as I watched him resume to stitch me up. His features were hard as he concentrated which caused his tongue to slightly peek out from his lips; something he always did.

My heart started to grow the longer I watched him, the love for him I buried deep so long ago began to fill it once more. I tried everything to move on from him, to forget him or the memories we had, but the more I tried, the less it worked. I found myself dreaming of him every night and the dreams were so vivid, it felt as if his body was on top of mine, tied together in my sheets.

We always joked about being connected with our minds but now knowing what we did about Arishem creating us, I couldn’t help but wonder if he created us that way on purpose; almost as if we were soul mates.

My gaze fell onto my left hand which was placed on top of my stomach, right above where Druig had been working. Every so often, I would catch his eyes darting from my wounds to the ring on my finger.

The black diamond caught in the setting sun and with the bright light that was casted over me from the lamp on the table next to the bed, it casted a shadow over the gold band.

“Why did you ever ask for it back?” I wondered, breaking the silence.

“It was a gift for you, for our love for one another. It didn’t feel right to take it back,” Druig stated while sitting back into the chair he had been perched on.

He cleaned his hands on a rag before motioning back to me.

“Try not to go after any deviants for a bit, ya?”

I smirked while leaning up on my elbows. “No promises.

“Now get your gross ass in the shower to rinse off. I’ll find some clothes for you to wear,” Druig jokes while he helped me to my feet.

After one of the most rewarding yet disgusting shower, I wrapped the towel tightly around my chest and paused, wondering if Druig was around. Even though he had seen me naked many times before, I still felt weird about it. It had been so long since we both saw each other bare, it would have been like our first time all over again.

“Druig?” I called out.

Silence.

My feet smacked against the hard floor of the bedroom as I scurried I saw a pile of clothes on a freshly stripped bed; black skinny jeans with one of his old black shirts to match.

He loved the way I looked in black.

Once dressed, I ran my fingers through my hair as a makeshift comb while walking out into the crisp night air. No one was around so I figured they were all down by the river, ready for Gilgamesh’s funeral.

We would burn his body and Thena would let his ashes go into the water; it’s what he wanted.

Everyone was standing in front of the large fire and I made my way next to Thena, hand placed softly on her lower back. She smiled down at me as I laid my head on her shoulder, a silent action to let her know that I would be by her side now, no matter what happened.

“He hasn’t stopped staring at you.”

I removed my head from Thena’s shoulder and followed her gaze over to Druig, who in fact, had been staring at me. I gave him a small smile.

“Did the two of you make up?” Thena asked.

“We don’t have to talk about this now,” I suggested.

She gave my hand a tight squeeze. “I need something to keep my mind at peace.”

A flash of light shined under the skin of her forehead so I nodded, knowing that if this conversation would keep her Mahd Wy’ry at bay, then we could talk about Druig and I.

“We’ve apologized but I don’t think we’re ready to pick up where we left off. There’s still so much left unsaid. He promised we could talk about it after everything.”

“Does that mean he’s coming?” She asked, hopeful.

I sighed with a slight shrug. “I don’t think so. He wouldn’t leave with me a century ago, I doubt he would now.”

Thena turned to look back to the large flames of the fire and bumped her shoulder with mine. “I wouldn’t give up on him, yet. As I mentioned, he can’t keep his eyes off of you.”

Druig was in fact still watching me with an unreliable expression across his face. Usually I was keen on what he was thinking or feeling but tonight, I had no idea what was going through his mind. And that scared the shit out of me.

[cali-holland]

Golden Bullets, Ch 5: Kiss of Death

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond!AU

Harrison Osterfield, Agent 007, was once the best MI6 agent around with the astounding reputation as a womanizer. Between illegal gold smuggling and black market trading of weapons, he finds himself deeper in his latest mission than intended, weaving himself into a web of the criminal organization, S.P.E.C.T.R.E.. At the center of it all is the one woman who’s never fallen for his charms- you, Agent 006, the best MI6 agent, the new assistant director of the program, and his new partner.

Word Count: 6500

Gif is not mine- but it is from the bad blood music video haha

Golden Bullets Masterlist

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: violence (unnamed character death, motorcycle chase!, tranquilizer darts, grenades, weaponized ordinary objects?, self-inflicted wound), swearing, sexual themes

Featured Song: Goldfinger by Shirley Bassey from Goldfinger (1964)

~ “Goldfinger, He's the man, the man with the Midas touch, a spider's touch. Such a cold finger beckons you to enter his web of sin, but don't go in”

A/N: Reposting so hopefully the tags work...

~~~

The journey to Montenegro was certainly a long one- it made you regret fleeing from Monaco so quickly, remembering how much faster a private jet was compared to traveling by car, even though the DB10 was plenty fast. Harrison seemed upset to say goodbye to the precious car, but once he saw the old-school DB5 waiting for you two at the airport in Montenegro, all thoughts of the new car went away. By the time you made it to the hotel, you both had to get ready for the gala. It was odd for a private banker who deals with terrorists to host a charity gala, you suspected it was to compensate for illegal funds, but that was a different case for a different time.

“Wear the red one again.” Harrison said, watching you contemplate between a few dresses as he stepped out of the bathroom in his slacks and dress shirt.

“We haven’t exactly done laundry since that night so it still has blood on it.” You replied, setting the blood-spattered red dress aside as you grabbed out a black dress and a white one, still unsure which would be more fitting tonight. You personally loved the white one, but the black had the sleeves to cover your bullet wound.

“I think the white will show the blood even more.” He teased, adjusting the collar of his own white shirt.

“I’m not supposed to make this personal, remember?”

“Trust me, I remember, but we haven’t exactly had smooth runnings so far. I expect blood at this point.” Harrison laughed as you just scoffed and left to change in the bathroom with the black dress. Amused, he pulled on his black suit jacket, nothing new nor unusual for him to wear, but still a classic go-to of his.

“How much longer until you’re ready?” He asked you, leaning against the bathroom door a little as he adjusted his suit’s collar and cuff links.

“I’d be ready sooner if someone didn’t take so damn long in the bathroom.” You called back, strapping on your thigh holster that could be easily concealed under the dress. You slipped on the dress, examining your arm in the mirror to make sure no part of the bandage was showing. The glittery black dress was just as suiting to your figure as the red dress, but more conservative with longer sleeves and a shallower neckline. Plus, the leg slit wasn’t nearly as high as it was on the previous dress- while you liked to flash a little leg in these sorts of dresses, you didn’t exactly need to be Angelina Jolie with every dress having an incredibly high slit.

Harrison padded across the room, leaning on the wall right beside the window, overlooking the busy city below him. He thumbed the gold flash drive in his hands and looked down at it curiously. He’d never noticed the small octopus imprint on it with the initials R. S. beside it. It was so small, it was easy to miss it. This had to be Silva’s flash drive; there was no other reasonable option for him. He sighed, mumbling, “Come on, Q, where are you?”

“Did you say something?” You asked as you stepped out of the bathroom in your dress, grabbing your heels from beside your suitcase. Propping one foot onto the chair, you leaned over and slipped on your heel. Harrison turned to face you, his breath catching in his throat. He’d never admit it to you, but you certainly had this power over him (he’d already admitted you terrified him, so he wasn’t about to say anything else). You switched to your other foot and glanced over at him, “Osterfield? Did you say something a moment ago?”

“Just thinking aloud.” He said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He hoped you hadn’t picked up on the pink tint that he could tell had overcome his ears by now. Stepping towards you, he asked, “You ready?”

“Almost. Need some lipstick.” You went to grab your lipstick bag from the coffee table, but Harrison, who was much closer it, grabbed it first. Seeing how careless he was with the bag, clearly thinking it was just lipstick, you jumped and snatched the bag from him, “Are you trying to kill us?”

“What? They’re just lipstick?” Harrison replied, confused by your reaction. You were acting like it was a bomb, which some parts were.

“I have grenades in here.” You said, opening up the bag and choosing the right shade to go with your look for the evening. As you applied it, Harrison peered in the bag, further confused as he saw only gold, silver, and black lipstick tubes. “Black are regular lipsticks, gold are grenades, and silver are tranq darts.”

“Q’s getting too creative.” He looked at the bag in disbelief.

“He’s a genius. I didn’t think I’d need to use tranq darts, but they come in handy.” You stated, grabbing a silver lipstick from the bag and taking off the cap to show the small needle in place of actual lipstick. You put the lipstick away and slipped a small gun into your thigh holster while Harrison put one in his holster across his back, hidden by his suit.

“Ready, angel?” Harrison asked smugly, holding an arm out to you.

“Let’s go get ourselves a banker and a sniper.” You stated as you took his arm and the two of you left the hotel room.

The hotel’s banquet hall had been immaculately transformed into the gala’s venue. Tall, intricately designed pillars lined the outer area of the hall, almost like a courtyard would. Large round tables were dawned with golden tablecloths and delicate white decorations. While the setup of the gala was all so spotlessly beautiful, you still felt on edge about Le Chiffre’s presence.

After quickly taking in the new surrounding to spot the best vantage points and the weakest ones, your eyes found Le Chiffre. Across the hall, the ominous banker was easily recognizable with his hauntingly pale complexion and even more hauntingly white eye as he talked with another man dressed sharply in a tux. He casually wiped his pale eye with a handkerchief, cleaning up the blood from his face.

“Does he often bleed from his eye?” Harrison asked you quietly, the two of you making your way to a table in a corner.

“It’s called haemolacria.” You explained, “It’s caused by disease or, in his case, trauma to the eye.”

“Let me guess, you caused it?” A small smirk playing on his lips at the thought of you permanently and physically damaging Le Chiffre.

“God, I wish. That’d be 009 taking his revenge for me. Probably part of the reason he was killed.” You let out a small sigh, thinking of your fallen agent. It only made you want to kill the blood-weeping man across the room even more. Harrison casually pulled out a chair for you. Tonight, your cover was as a couple because, unlike at the casino with Sciarra, neither of you needed to flirt with anyone, so the two of you sitting with each other, with Harrison’s arm draped around the back of your chair, was professional for tonight. It was certainly more professional than Venice.

Not long into the event itself and you spotted a familiar blonde clad in her iconic gold step into the bustling gala. There was a man by her side, wearing a black bowler hat; he was not close enough to her for you to call him potentially her date, but his presence just made you more suspicious. You mumbled, “Galore just got here. But who’s that with her?”

“Oddjob.” Harrison answered as he recognized the Korean at her side, “I met him when I went after Silva. I thought Oddjob was simply an assassin, but he must be working with Goldfinger, especially if he’s here with Galore.”

Your jaw clenched as you saw Galore’s gaze focus on Le Chiffre. If she, a trained sniper as it is, was here with an assassin, they were going to kill Le Chiffre before you even got the chance. You watched as she slowly made her way to a far table with Oddjob, the two sitting down and striking up a conversation with the rest of the sharp dressed people around them. Your fingers grazed over the very slight outline of your gun over your dress; you were itching to pull it on Le Chiffre.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Harrison asked you, noticing your change in demeanor at Galore and Oddjob’s presence.

“Excuse me. I need to freshen up.” You muttered before getting up from your chair quickly. You made your way towards the exit before ducking behind a pillar. Your eyes trained on Le Chiffre, who was slowly making his way over towards you while he talked to another man.

The room was so loud and crowded, giving you the perfect opportunity to take him out. You slowly took out your gun and held it up to shoot Le Chiffre, perfectly aimed at his heart. Just as you were about to pull the trigger, Harrison appeared behind you, grabbing your hands and twisting you until he had you pinned to the wall. His body pressed yours to the wall and he looked at you with a frown, pinning your hands down at your hips, hiding your gun with his open suit jacket.

“Damn it, I had him.” You seethed quietly through gritted teeth.

“You’re going to get us killed.” He replied, stern blue eyes never leaving yours.

“I need to kill him.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to kill him. Agent 009 wouldn’t want you to kill him, not now when we need him alive.” Harrison looked around briefly, catching sight of Le Chiffre and his men headed straight towards the two of you. “He’s coming. Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly.” You answered. He didn’t give you much choice in the manner, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was rough yet still full of passion, but you knew he only meant it as a distraction, nothing more. He had one hand against the wall as his other wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You kept your gun hidden in his suit, clutching to the metal tightly under his silk lined jacket. Your free hand took hold in his hair, tugging on it to really put on the show of just another handsy couple getting it on behind a pillar- the classic move.

But then, he moaned. Harrison moaned softly into the kiss, despite Le Chiffre and his men clearly being too far to hear it. That was enough to pull you back to reality. This was your partner and you were on a stakeout mission together. You were supposed to be watching Le Chiffre (because god forbid you shot the bastard), and you definitely weren’t supposed to be making out with Harrison.

“Keep an eye on him.” Harrison whispered into your ear. He slowly and teasingly kissed his way down your neck, smirking against your skin as your body involuntarily pressed further into him when he found your sweet spot. You kept your eyes on Le Chiffre, watching him move throughout the room, but Harrison’s lips moving on your neck made it hard for you to focus. Feeling him nip at your skin, you shifted your hand, pushing the end of your gun against his back.

“I’ll shoot you if you leave a hickey.” You mumbled.

“Give me a matching scar, yeah?” He murmured, his hand trailing down to your hip, pressing gently over where he knew your bullet wound scar was. You clenched your jaw at his words, and he went back to kissing your neck. He seemed to be rather enjoying this optimal situation for spying on Le Chiffre. You, on the other hand, were still conflicted about if you did like it or not. While it wasn’t a bad thing to have his hands and lips all over you, you still felt-

“Harrison.” You breathed out, your eyes trained on Pussy Galore as she stood from her table, her own eyes never leaving Le Chiffre. Harrison pulled back to look at you, his lips slightly swollen from their work.

“What did you just call me?” He asked, and you bit back a groan from your slip up. This whole time, you’d done so well at keeping this somewhat professional, but his damn lips had an effect on you. A smirk grew on his face as he noticed your hesitation. “You just said my first name, Y/N.”

“Galore just got up.” You said quietly, eyes flickering over to the woman dressed in gold, who was stalking over towards Le Chiffre at the bar. You quietly cocked your gun, hand still nuzzled in his jacket. You looked at him as a way to ask for permission to shoot- not really caring if you shot Galore or Le Chiffre.

“Don’t.” He said softly. “M said-“

You started to move your hand out from his jacket and he quickly grabbed your arm, stopping you from pulling it out all the way. You glared at him, staring him down as a way to wordlessly will him to let go. Before either of you could budge on the subject, a gunshot rang out. Immediately, he dropped your arm, pulling out his own gun as you did the same, both of you jumping into action and aiming at the source.

Le Chiffre was dead. Galore had shot him in cold blood, in the middle of the gala. Oddjob took out the cameras as Galore shot at Le Chiffre’s men. In an instant, they were all dead, and Harrison pocketed his gun and quickly grabbed your hand.

“Come on, we need to go.” He said as crowds of people rushed out of the gala around you.

“We need to bring her in.” You argued, stepping towards her and he yanked your hand back, making you stagger. While your words made it seem like Galore was your priority, Harrison could see the anger in your eyes as you looked at Le Chiffre’s body- the same anger that comes from unsatisfied vengeance.

“If we go out there now, you’ll kill her or she’ll kill you. You’re-” Harrison paused, unsure if he should finish his sentence. His hesitation made you turn to him, questioningly.

“I’m what?” You spat. He sighed, tugging on your hand again, and this time you put your gun away and followed behind to the stairs- the elevators were unfortunately occupied by screaming civilians that neither of you wanted to deal with.

“You’re too emotional over this.” He said once the two of you got into the stairwell. “Y/N, you know this isn’t the right time to go after Galore. M specifically said to not go after her if you’re in this state.” “M? What did M tell you?” You questioned, dropping his hand as you two raced up the stairs. He immediately regretted his words; you were too perceptive for his own good.

“It’s nothing.” Harrison stated.

“If it was nothing, we’d be downstairs going after her.” You scoffed.

A tense, bitter silence remained between the two of you as you got back to the hotel room. You immediately grabbed a change of clothes and locked yourself in the bathroom, too infuriated by Le Chiffre’s death and whatever the hell M had told Harrison to really care about your partner. Equally annoyed at the situation, Harrison immediately took off his suit jacket, tossing it to the side.

“Call room service. We need more towels.” Harrison heard you shout from the bathroom. He let out a sigh, trudging over to the phone to call in the order. Considering there were approximately a dozen dead bodies downstairs in the banquet hall, he wasn’t that surprised when they didn’t pick up; the hotel certainly had other things to worry about.

“I’m going downstairs for them.” He called to you through the bathroom and grabbed his suit jacket, quickly tugging it on, not even waiting for a response before he left.

On the other side of the door, you let out a frustrated sigh at the fact that there were no bath towels- what kind of hotel forgets to put bath towels in a cleaned room? Hearing the door close, you peeked your head outside the bathroom to find that he had actually left. You grabbed your dress, now that you were changed into some comfortable leggings and a t-shirt for bed, and stuffed it back in your bag. You weren’t sure how long Harrison was going to be so you busied yourself with tidying up your luggage at least, but leaving out your weapons in case you needed them.

As for Harrison, his journey to the front desk for some more towels was cut short. The moment he stepped out of the hotel room, he ran into none other than Pussy Galore, no Oddjob in sight.

“Harrison?” Galore called out with a fond smile on her face as she recognized him almost immediately. If he didn’t know she was a spy for Goldfinger, he would’ve been creeped out by the fact that a woman who flirted with him in a bustling Monaco casino could recognize him here and now just a few days later in a Montenegro hotel.

“Pussy,” He smiled back at her kindly, doing his best not to give away anything. He knew who she was, but there was no telling if she knew about him. Effortlessly, he flicked on his charm, eyeing her up and down.

“What are you doing in Montenegro? Are you following me?” She joked, her laugh sweet like honey, perfectly hiding any underlying motives.

“I don’t know, darling. Are you following me?” He teased back.

“Maybe.” She smirked, and he believed her word for a moment before she continued, “No, I’m really here for work. And you?”

“Wanted a bit of a vacation.” Harrison lied, not like it mattered whether he told her the truth or not anyway. “I was about to head down and get some towels. Room service seemed to forget about my room.” He explained with a laugh, pointing down the hall towards the elevator. Galore placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“I have a few extra in my room. I could always bring them to you or you could come back with me?” She said sultrily. Harrison forced down a lump in his throat as he felt her lips brush his neck. He would’ve said yes, jumping immediately at the opportunity to spend a good portion of the evening with the ravishing woman, but he couldn’t- not when you were the only one on his mind, and you were just on the other side of the door. Galore pulled away from him, a playful smile on her face. “While you think about it, I’ll be in my room just down the hall, room 504.”

She left for her room without Harrison so much as moving an inch. He casually slipped back into your shared room, trying to think of how to tell you about his encounter. You looked over at him from your spot on the bed, where you had been flicking mindlessly through the tv channels.

“You’re back quickly.” You stated without even an attempt to hide your remaining annoyance at him. You stood up from the bed, eyeing him and the lack of towels in his hands suspiciously. As you studied his face, you immediately recognized the pink shade of lipstick now on his collar.

“I just ran into Pussy Galore.” Harrison said.

“Ran into her or made out with her?” You questioned.

“I did no such thing.” He scoffed, offended by your claim. “She invited me back to her hotel room.”

“So why are you here?” You rolled your eyes at him, making your way past him to go get the damn towels yourself. Harrison grabbed your wrist, pinning you and it to the wall, and your free hand flew to grab his neck, but he blocked it with his other hand. Before you could attempt to kick him away, his knees pressed into yours, making his entire body mold yours into the wall. You grumbled in frustration, “Get off me and go back to your whore of a girlfriend. Or, better yet, let me go kill her myself.”

“No, I won’t let you.” He bit back.

“Oh, that’s rich, you telling me what to do now. Is that what M put you up to? God, I loathe you.” You scowled at him.

“I loathe you.” Harrison muttered, and the room fell silent as the two of you breathed heavily, trailing from each other’s eyes to each other’s lips. While he still had your hands pinned to the wall, you leaned forward and kissed him.

The kiss was rougher than the previous one at the gala, but it was needier, steamier, more passionate, authentic. You let your tongue slip between your interlocked lips and into his mouth, feeling his body move even more into yours as you did so, hips moving ever so slightly against yours. He let go of one of your hands to grab the small of your back, and his other hand intertwined with yours, still keeping it against the wall. Your own free hand roamed his shirt collar before tugging at the hairs at the back of his neck. The whole kiss was so similar to the previous one, yet so different- it was the truly steamy kiss between the womanizer and the seductress.

After a few heated moments, his mouth left yours to trail hot kisses down your throat. His hand let go of yours to fist at the fabric of your shirt and pull you even further against him. You grabbed his shoulders and flipped the two of you so, now, he was the one against the wall, and you let your hands get busy under his shirt, ghosting over his abs in the process.

Feeling him start to suck on your sweet spot on your neck, you breathed out, “I swear to god if there’s a mark there tomorrow-“

“You’ll shoot me in the dick? What is it with you and hickeys?” He cut you off, pulling his head away from you to give his best shit-eating grin, one that made your knees feel weak. It soon shifted into his classic smirk, “If this goes any further, you could finally fulfill that fantasy of yours, angel.”

“Are you ever not an ass?” You questioned, before grabbing the back of his neck to crash his lips against yours.

Just as your fingers began to unbutton his shirt, there was a knock at the door. You both pulled away from each other, panting a little with slightly swollen lips. Not recognizing the knock as Q’s special one, neither of you moved.

“Harrison? It’s me.” Pussy Galore said from the other side of the door, knocking again. Your jaw dropped, and you glared at your partner.

“What the hell is she doing here?” You whispered angrily, quietly walking away from him and the hotel room door.

“I don’t know. She didn’t seem serious when she said-” He cut himself off, unsure of his train of thought not. Instead, he opted for fixing his shirt and his hair, getting all traces of your hands off him.

“When she said what?” You asked in a low voice.

“She said she’d bring towels or I could go back with her. Just, go wait on the balcony.” Harrison quietly urged you, and you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“You’re not seriously making me wait outside while Galore tries to hook up with you, are you?” You questioned, making him look at you in confusion.

“What? No, you wait on the balcony, and I’ll get rid of her, so we can, you know,” He gestured to the beds, “Continue.”

Your jaw slacked at his words, scoffing, “You’re unbelievable.”

“Is that not what that kiss was?” He asked, hurt flashing over his features. Galore knocked on the door again, pulling you both back to the reality of the situation.

“And here I was thinking you were more than just a womanizer.” You rolled your eyes at him, grabbing the prized gold flash drive from the side table and making your way to the balcony.

“Maneater.” He spat back like a little kid.

“You’re so vain.” You said in disbelief, quietly closing the balcony doors and he shut the curtain, blocking the view of you from the room. You leaned against the railing, looking at the five story drop- too high for you to want to jump to escape whatever twisted hookup was going on in your hotel room. Was it wrong of you to think of Galore as a whore when her job was the exact reflection of yours? Probably. Were you jealous that Harrison let her have a power over him? Nope. Were you missing the feeling of your partner’s soft lips against yours? Definitely not. You were just glad the balcony doors were thick enough that you couldn’t hear anything from inside, and that the balcony itself was angled in such a way, no one could see you from the ground.

“I thought you’d keep me waiting all night.” Pussy Galore said, a smirk playing on her lips, when Harrison finally opened the door. She had a single towel in her hand, keeping up the premise of her visit at least, and a bottle of champagne in the other. Harrison recognized it as the same brand from Monaco, confirming his suspicions tha yes, Galore knew exactly who he was. “Hope you don’t mind. I got this from room service for us.”

“I’m not much of a champagne drinker.” He replied, opening the door wide enough to let her in. He watched her carefully as her eyes flicked around the room. It was then he spotted the lipstick bag still out.

“I’m sorry, do you have company right now?” Galore asked as she took a seat at the edge of the bed anyway.

“Oh, no, just traveling with my sister.” He hoped she couldn’t see through his lie, but he couldn’t tell behind her sweet, yet cold eyes. He grabbed the bag of lipsticks, slipping a silver one up his sleeve, before putting away the bag as a whole, “But she’s not here tonight. It’s just us.”

At his inviting words, Galore set aside the champagne bottle and towel, and Harrison took that as a sign to get busy. As she laid on the bed comfortably, he climbed onto her, his lips finding hers. This would normally be the most thrilling part of his job with his hands wandering on a gorgeous woman as he devoured her taste, but somehow this felt wrong. His lips almost forgot what to do against Galore’s lips simply because they weren’t yours. While he was caught up in his head, Galore’s fingers found their way under his suit jacket. She grabbed his gun with ease, kicking him off her and rolling so she was on top of him, straddling his waist and pointing the gun at his head.

“Well, that was easy.” She breathed out. She leaned down, her chest pressed to his, keeping the gun threateningly close to his head. “Where’s the flash drive, 007?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He answered, not hesitating for a moment, and she pushed the gun barrel against his chin as she sat up again.

“So you want to do this the hard way then?” She questioned. She reached for the champagne bottle, no doubt filled with the same interrogation drug that you’d consumed. Harrison took the opportunity to grab the towel, twisting it around her neck. He had the upper hand as the gun dropped from her grasp. The towel, while it was slowly choking her, it wasn’t enough to kill her right then.

“Where’s Goldfinger?” He demanded, tightening his hold on the towel. She gasped for air, her cheeks beginning to turn red from the force. The small lipstick slipped from his suit, right into her hand. Harrison tried to grab it from her, but it was too late, she’d stabbed him with the thin needle, piercing straight into the vein in his arm. The tranquilizer worked quickly, and the towel dropped from his hands. Galore slowly got up, grabbing the gun that had been just barely out of reach. While she was distracted, with his last bit of energy, Harrison took off his watch, clicking it to the grenade setting and tossing it across the room towards the balcony, hoping it’d go off and you’d hear his sad call for help. He fell, landing on the bed, motionless. Galore said something, but it was all incoherent to him, and, as his vision blurred, all he could think about was you, standing out on the balcony, waiting for him to come back- he wasn’t going to come back, and his damn watch didn’t work.

Meanwhile, you tried to pass your time by keeping an eye out for Q, with your splendid view of the hotel parking lot. Surely, he should be here by now; and this flash drive in your hand wasn’t getting any less important. Your breath caught in your throat as you spotted that assassin, Oddjob, from earlier. He adjusted the hat on his head as he got out of a large van with blacked out windows. He walked over to a hotel exit where two men came out, carrying a knocked out Harrison. You felt your stomach churn as you watched them smuggle your unconscious partner into the van. As Oddjob got back into the driver’s seat, you looked down off the balcony. You knew you hadn’t gotten any closer to the ground, but you could hope that somehow the five story jump looked smaller.

You fumbled with the gold flash drive in your fingers. If you didn’t get this to Q, then MI6 would never know what Silva and Sciarra were hiding; all of this would be for nothing. Quickly, you took out your small pocket knife and took a deep breath before piercing it into your wrist, cutting out the small tracking device Q had installed in all of the agents. You knew he was tracking you with the device, but, now, you needed it to stay with the flash drive for him to find. Galore would be looking for you, and you’d either end up dead or captured with Harrison, so it wasn’t like you’d need to be tracked either way. It wasn’t your best plan, but Q would find the drive, which was much more important than you. You dropped the flash drive and the device into the plush garden bed on the ground below you, landing perfectly hidden in the flowers beside each other.

Looking up, you saw the van disappearing off into the night. You heard the balcony door slowly open, a man with a gun peeking out the door. Before he could shoot, you grabbed his hand with the gun, twisting his wrist to point at his heart. Your hand went over his finger and fired, killing him instantly. You grabbed the gun from his limp fingers, shooting another man inside the hotel room. Slowly, you stepped inside the room, not seeing anyone else inside. Galore stepped through the door, shooting at you and you ducked, rolling for cover behind a bed. It didn’t take long for you to run out of bullets, but  you spotted Harrison’s watch lying thrown on the floor beside you. It was set to grenade, but it wouldn’t go off for a few more minutes. Still, it’d buy you time and a distraction. You threw it in Galore’s direction, and she laughed at the failed attempt.

“You missed.” She pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at the defective grenade. Before you could come up with another plan, Galore stood on the bed and grabbed you by the hair, yanking you to your feet. Using the height advantage, she kneed you right in the face. You grabbed hold of her wrist, jumping up to knock her over and to send the gun flying out of her other hand.

“What the hell did you do to my partner?” You questioned through gritted teeth, your hands finding their way to her throat as you shoved her against the mirror on the wall. You noticed the faint bruising on her neck already; smirking to yourself, you knew Harrison had to have been behind it. You pushed down the pit in your stomach over your concern of his fate, focusing your energy on the bitch in front of you.

“I’d ask how you managed to break the womanizer but, god, he was so easy to catch, it almost wasn’t fun.” She replied menacingly.

“Don’t call him that.” You snapped, shoving her against the mirror harder, her head breaking the glass. She let out a cry in pain as her perfectly blonde hair got tainted with blood; the small red sight was enough for you to repeat your actions, punching her in the gut as you did so. In your anger, you missed her fingers wrapping around the champagne bottle. She smashed it against your head and attempted to stab the broken glass into your neck, but you blocked her jab with your elbow, the motion causing the glass to slash across her eyebrow. You lost your footing as she kicked your knee and continued to attempt to stab you with the bottle. You bit back a scream as she stabbed the bottle into your healing bullet wound on your arm. Though your arm seared with pain, you were hit with the realization that this bitch in front of you was the one who shot you, and that reignited the same fire in you; first the sniper shot, then 009, and now Harrison- she was asking for it. You grabbed the bottle out of your arm, ready to use it as a knife against her.

Suddenly, the watch grenade went off, flying you and Galore to separate sides of the room. Landing near the door, you took the opportunity to flee. You held onto your arm, applying as much pressure as you could, as you staggeredly ran down the hall towards the staircase.

A couple of Galore’s men- or Goldfinger’s you weren’t sure who was calling the shots now, started coming up the staircase by the time you got to the second floor. You elbowed one in the face, grabbing the gun from his hands to shoot the other down before the gun dropped from both of your hands, falling down the staircase. Hearing the door open from the fifth floor, you looked up instinctively. The man across from you began to throw punches, and you jumped up, grabbing the bottom rail from the next set of stairs up and kicking him out the window.

The footsteps above you quickened, and you grabbed the gun from the dead man beside you before jumping out the window. You groaned, landing just wrong enough that your bad arm hit the gun. The man, who you had so gracefully kicked out the window, began to move and you quickly shot him the head. Cursing for not having the car keys on you, you got up and began running for the nearby parking lot. Just as you spotted a group of motorcyclists parking their bikes, you saw Galore and a couple more men barge out of the hotel room door.

“Hey!” Someone called after you as you got onto an empty motorcycle, starting it up and racing away. While you could hear the motorcyclists yelling indistinctly in the distance, you could also clearly hear three motorcycles and a sports car chasing after you. Turning down a busy street, you swerved to try to dodge their bullets and to get them off your damn tail. Galore had already taken Harrison, and now she was after you like an actual barn cat hunting a mouse, but in this case, you weren’t going to end up in her clutches.

One of the motorcycles caught up to you, driving right beside you. He got out his gun, holding the bike steady with one hand. Looking ahead, you saw an oncoming car, the bike beside you was going too fast to react. You elbowed him and grabbed his gun before swerving away. The other motorcycle crashed straight into the car. One down, two to go.

“Move! Move!” You shouted at the confused, screaming pedestrians you tried to dodge as you hopped onto a sidewalk. Galore and the other men stopped shooting, and you could indistinctly hear her barking out orders. You made a sharp turn left, nearly hitting a car that you dared to think was an Aston, onto a wide bridge. You glanced behind you and that car was definitely an Aston and that was definitely Q driving it as the car rammed straight into the second motorcyclist and then focused on pushing back the Audi that had been trailing you. Galore was the only one on the bridge with you. Your motorcycle hit a bump, but you didn’t react fast enough and got thrown from the bike, rolling along the hard asphalt.

“You just don’t know when to stop, do you?” Galore spat angrily, yanking you up from your hair again- damn her and knowing how much that actually hurts. She pointed her gun at you, “Where’s the flash drive? I know Harrison doesn’t have it, so he must’ve given it to you.”

“Go to hell.” You bitterly replied. She hit you in the lip with the butt of her gun, busting your lip in the process. You spit up some blood, before kneeing her and making a run for the edge of the bridge. You looked down into the abyss of the river; it was too dark for you to even try to guess how far the jump was and you had no clue how deep the water was. Galore began to shoot at you, leaving you no choice but to jump. The minute you hit the crisp, cold water, you did your best to minimize your air bubbles and swam under the surface towards the bridge.

You weren’t sure how long you held your breath to keep yourself under the water and away from Galore’s bullets, but you knew you were thankful for your intense swim training years prior. Maybe you weren’t overexaggerating when you said you had the best lungs on MI6. You came up for air on the bank besides a tree and slowly pulled yourself out. Between the stab wound on your already vulnerable bullet wound and your own self-inflicted cut on your wrist, you were beaten up, and that wasn’t even accounting for the cuts and bruises on your knuckles, face, and legs. You had to go back for the flash drive. While it was most likely Q in that Aston, you weren’t sure if he’d made it out or if he’d actually follow your tracker now that he knows you’re nowhere near it.

You had barely made it a block into your cold journey back to the hotel when a car pulled up beside you. You were ready to fight whoever was inside, but your defenses dropped as soon as you heard the familiar voice from the rolled down window.

“Need a ride?”

~~~

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