Lyutsifer Safin X Reader - Blog Posts

Trust | Lyutsifer Safin x Reader

Masterlist | Part 4 to "Cherry" | Previous

After finally recovering, Y/N feels angry by Lyutsifer cold demeanour towards, that and his clear lack of trust means they quickly find themselves coming to blows. When Y/N seeks solitude elsewhere, things only escalate.

Warnings: Poison, Mentions of vomiting, Men being creepy, Attempted SA, Blood, Death

AN: Y/N Is just really emotionally confused in this chapter, but honestly can you blame her?

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Y/N had been on Lyutsifer’s Island for just over a week now; after finally being signed off by the doctor, she found herself wandering through the halls of the large complex.

As she walked through the expansive corridors, the sound of her footsteps echoing slightly in the silence, she was surprised by the lack of other people around. It was almost ghostly how empty the space was.

Eventually she stumbled upon what appeared to be a large garden. Greenery covered the floors, and several plants grew around the room, a large circular pool of water placed in the centre.

She was so entranced by the beauty of the flora that she started to reach out and touch one of the plants, completely oblivious to their potentially dangerous nature.

But just as her hand was about to brush against one of its leaves, a voice cut through the room, stopping her. “I wouldn’t touch that one if I were you.”

Her hand froze in place inches from the plant's flora; turning towards him, she asked, "Why not?"

Lyutsifer leaned casually against a nearby pillar, his dark eyes watching her with amused interest. "It's poisonous," he explained casually, a smirk playing on his lips. "One touch and you'd be feeling the effects within minutes.”

"What does it do?"

He pushed himself off of the pillar and sauntered towards her, his steps slow and unhurried. "A few of the symptoms you'd feel are nausea, vomiting, and abdominal pain,” he listed off, his voice cool and casual, as if discussing something very mundane. 

"Oh, and a rapid heart rate," he added, his smirk growing, "just to list a few."

At his list, Y/N finally pulled her hand away, letting it rest at her side, watching as he approached. He finally stopped in front of her, his gaze fixed on her face. He looked amused at her reaction to his list of symptoms, his smirk still present.

"Still eager to touch everything?" he teased, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"What kind of garden is this?" she asked, glancing around the garden.

"A poisonous one," he responded, his tone matter-of-fact. "But also medicinal. Many of these plants have very useful properties as long as they're used correctly."

"Why do you have a poisonous garden?" She asked with a bemused expression on her face, "Is this how you made that drug?"

He smiled at her question, an almost sinister smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "I have many gardens here," he explained, his voice low and steady. "This is just one of them. And as for the drug, it was a simple matter of extracting the right components from the right plants."

"Where have you been?" Y/N asked unexpectedly, surprising even herself, "The doctor cleared me three days ago, but I haven't seen you in over a week."

He narrowed his eyes slightly at her question, not expecting it. His expression remained as stoic as ever, but there was a hint of surprise in his gaze.

"I've been busy," he replied simply, his tone betraying nothing. "I have many responsibilities and duties that take up much of my time."

"And what duties are those?" She couldn’t help but interrogate him; she was still an MI5 agent after all.

He arched an eyebrow slightly at her question, his eyes fixating on her face. For a brief moment, there was no response. Just a silent, intense stare.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and even. "The kind that you have no need to know about," he replied, his tone firm but not without a hint of warning.

Stepping forward, Y/N challenged him with a hard stare, “You don't trust me."

"Trust," he said, his tone tinged with a hint of bitterness, "is not easily given or earned.”

"Yet you expected me to trust you." Y/N's eyes flared slightly as she spoke, suddenly angered by his coldness towards her despite everything that happened the night he saved her. “That night, I was expected to go with you without question.”

"Circumstances were different," he retorted firmly, his voice cold and commanding. "You would have died that night if I hadn't intervened. I had no choice but to bring you here. I had to make you trust me."

"And now?" she asked forcefully, "If you don't trust me, why am I still here?"

His gaze shifted at her question, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes fixed on her face. Then he spoke, his voice firm and steady. "I have my reasons," he answered cryptically. "Let's leave it at that."

That angered her even more; she wasn't a damsel in distress and wouldn't just follow him blindly, "Just give me a straight fucking answer."

Lyutsifer’s expression darkened at her anger, his eyes narrowing as he considered her. There was a hint of irritation now in his gaze, but he kept his tone even.

"Your life is still in danger," he explained, his voice firm but not without a trace of fatigue. "The people who sent those men after you still want you dead. As long as they're after you, I can't just let you go."

"In case you've forgotten, I am a trained agent for MI5. I. can. handle. myself." 

"Clearly not well enough," he retorted, his voice sharp. His words stung, their meaning clear. He was not just talking about the other night but her skills as an agent in general.

“If you distrust me this much, why even save me? You would've saved yourself a lot of trouble if you'd let them kill me."

For a brief moment, his expression faltered as he looked at her. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of an emotion that he quickly snuffed out.

"I don't trust anyone," he responded simply. "And I have my reasons for everything I do, as I just stated. My reasons for saving you, my reasons for keeping you here. You may not understand or agree with them, but they are not up for debate, and the topic is closed."

"Fuck this." She simply muttered and turned around to walk away.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cool and commanding.

"For a fucking walk!" she yelled at him, turning around to look at him, fury evident in her eyes, "Or do you not trust me enough to do that?"

Her sudden outburst took him aback for a brief moment. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression hardening again.

"A walk is fine." His tone was firm, with a hint of warning. "Just don't try anything, understand? I have people watching you closely. And if you try to escape, there will be consequences.”

"Noted." And with that, she walked out of the garden and back down the long hallways of the compound. She walked and walked until she knew she was far away from that garden, far away from him. 

Finally, Y/N stopped on a balcony that overlooked the sea. To be honest, it was probably more of a lookout than a balcony, but she would take what she could get. Leaning against the concrete half-wall, she let out a long breath before closing her eyes and taking in the feel of the sea air hitting her face.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything?” A voice suddenly broke her peace, causing her to whip her head around.

She didn’t recognise the man in front of her, but his uniform seemed to show he was a guard here; nevertheless, Y/N was still on edge. “Can I help you?” Y/N asked with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"Just doing my rounds," he replied, his voice casual but tinged with a hint of arrogance. His eyes lingered on her a tad bit too long, almost as if he was appraising her.

“Well, I’m happy to report that there’s nothing of interest out here, just the sea.” Y/N replied, her body rigid, and she assessed the man in front of her.

He chuckled lightly at her response, his smirk growing and his gaze becoming even more appraising.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, stepping closer to her and leaning against the half-wall as well. His body was only inches from hers, too close for comfort.

“Actually,” she spoke with determination, “I’m done here; anywhere, it’s all yours.” Y/N slid out from where he’d trapped her against the wall and moved back to the door.

As she moved to walk past him, he reached out and caught her arm, stopping her from leaving. His grip was firm, but not too tight.

"Where are you going in such a rush?" he asked, his voice almost playful now. "Thought you'd be enjoying the view a bit longer."

“If you know what’s good for you,” She warned him with a glare, “You’ll let go of my arm.”

His expression changed to one of mock hurt, the smirk never leaving his lips. "Feisty one, aren't you?" he remarked with a chuckle. "But I doubt you're in any position to make threats.”

Despite her warning, he didn't loosen his grip on her arm. If anything, he pulled her closer, closing the distance between them. In an instant, Y/N's expression changed into something dangerous, and they moved quickly and kneed him right in the crotch.

He staggered back with a sharp yelp of pain, his grip on her arm loosening. "You—ah... you little—" he wheezed out, his hand going down to clutch his crotch as he hunched over.

“I did warn you.” Was all she said.

He grunted and finally righted himself, his face a mask of anger and pain. "You'll—ahh—you'll regret that," he gritted out, glaring at her with a mix of anger and surprise.

Not waiting around, Y/N bolted into the doorway and away from the balcony, seeking the refuge of her assigned room. Yet the man had somehow managed to regain composure quickly and was following closely behind her.

She could hear his heavy footsteps echo behind her as she ran, his pursuit hot and relentless. Despite the fact she had a bit of a head start, he was catching up quickly.

Slamming the door to her room open, she nearly leaped inside, turning around to try and close the door behind her. But the guard was too close on her heels and managed to catch the door just as she was closing it, pushing it back with all his might and forcing his way into her room. He locked the door behind him with a loud click.

“You little fucking bitch,” as the guard spoke, he pushed her harshly towards her bed, “I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” 

Y/N scrambled around blindly as she desperately looked for something to defend herself with when her hand brushed against something cold. It was a letter opener, albeit decorative, but Y/N knew it was sharp enough.

Blindly she swung it against him, managing to stab him in the neck. Eyes cold as she watched the man above begin to bleed rapidly, he struggled for a moment and pulled the object out, which only served to cover Y/N in his blood. Eventually, though, his struggling slowed, and he collapsed on top of her dead.

Y/N tried to push him off her, yet her adrenaline was wearing off now, and it wasn’t easy to push someone twice her size off her, especially when they were a literal dead weight. 

Suddenly the door was thrown open; Lyutsifer took in the scene before him in one sweeping glance. His eyes landed on Y/N first, taking in her dishevelled appearance and the blood splattered across her clothes. On top of her lay the crumpled form of one of his guards, a letter opener protruding from his neck and a growing pool of blood surrounding his lifeless body.

Lyutsifer’s expression darkened as he took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. "What in the world..." he began, his eyes flashing as they flicked from Y/N to the guard and back again.  "Y/N, what happened here?" he demanded, his tone leaving no room for evasion.

“Just get him off of me, please.” She managed to say with gritted teeth, refusing to explain anything until she could breathe again.

The anger from before was back again. “What happened is your trusted guard attacked me and followed me into my room to do probably exactly what I thought he was going to do.” She spoke quickly; her eyes glared at him. “How can I trust you when these are the men that work for you?”

Her emotions were in overdrive, and all she could think about was the conversation they’s had earlier in the garden, how Safin had demanded her trust yet refused to trust her in return. It was the reason she had walked away, the reason she had ended up on that balcony in the first place. 

Safin listened to her, his expression darkening further with each word. A strange mix of anger and something else flickered in his eyes as he took in the scene before him. His gaze lingered on the discarded letter opener, its blade still stained with the guard's blood, before returning to Y/N.

When she finished speaking, he was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched tightly. Finally, he looked at her, his voice flat and emotionless. "You realise you've just killed one of my men."

"He deserved it," she spoke coldly, sitting up now to face him.

He raised an eyebrow at her, his gaze sharp. "Deserved it, did he? And who are you to decide that?" His tone was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it. He took another step closer to her, closing the distance between them.

"He would've done worse to me," Y/N replied without hesitation, "At least I didn't prolong his suffering."

"You should have run," he said finally, his voice low and even. "Come to me as soon as he started following you."

She bristled slightly at his words, sitting up straighter, “As I've said before, I can fucking handle myself."

"And look where that got you," he retorted with a hint of sarcasm. "You may think you can handle yourself, but clearly, you're in over your head."

"If you had just trusted me, then I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place."

Safin clenched his jaw at her words, a flash of anger passing across his features. He took another step closer to her, towering over her now, his gaze intense and icy.

"Trust?" he repeated, his voice full of scepticism. "You expect me to just trust you after everything that’s happened?"

"Honestly at this point either trust me or just kill me." Y/N spoke with a sigh, completely tired of reiterating the same argument again.

Her words hung in the room; the silence that followed was deafening. His gaze was intense, his eyes searching hers. For a moment, he didn't move, then he sighed heavily.

"You're not making this easy, you know that?" His tone was softer now, but he was still in control. "It's not that simple."

His expression was unreadable. He stared at her for a moment, as if trying to decide how to respond. Then, finally, he spoke. "That kiss was a mistake." His voice was firm, but he didn't sound entirely convinced of his own words.

"That...was a moment of weakness," he admitted, his voice low.

He was caught off guard by her bluntness. His expression shifted, revealing a hint of surprise, before he quickly masked it with a stoic expression.

"That...was a moment of weakness," he admitted, his voice low.

“What about now?"

His expression softened minutely at her question, but he was still guarded, still in control. He took a step closer to her, closing the distance between them.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice soft but with a hint of warning.

Instead of answering, she leaned forward, slamming her blood-coated lips against his own. She felt him freeze momentarily, his eyes widening in surprise at her bold move. But he didn't pull away or push her away, his lips responding to hers with a fervour that matched hers. The taste of her blood, mixed with the heat of their kiss, was intoxicating.

Pulling away, she smirked when he subconsciously leaned forward, following her, “Was that a mistake?”

Lyutsifer caught himself just in time, his expression faltering briefly. His eyes flicked to her bloody lips before returning to her gaze, his expression now a mix of desire and something else. 

"No," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was no mistake."

She was still leaned in close enough that as she spoke, her breath grazed against his scarred skin, "If I asked you to trust me, would you?"

He was silent for a moment, contemplating the idea before speaking. "It's not that simple," his voice cautious. "I've given you enough leeway already.”

Irritated to the point of exhaustion, she sighed dramatically before pulling away from him completely. Shuffling off the bed, Y/N stood and began to walk away in the direction of the ensuite bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Lyutsifer called out, his voice betraying a hint of annoyance.

"I'm not going to sleep with someone that doesn't trust me." She answered like it was obvious, "Besides, I need to wash this blood off of me."

"You can't just walk away from me," he called out after her. His words were sharp, but there was an underlying current of something else in his tone. We're not done here."

When Y/N spoke again, her voice was softer now, more resigned to her fate, "I think you've made yourself very clear, Doctor Safin." Stepping back, she held the door to the bathroom ready to close it, "But if you're still here when I'm done, I'd like to discuss going home."

He didn't respond for a moment, his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. But when she spoke about leaving, his eyes darkened perceptively. 

"You're not going anywhere," he stated firmly. "Not until I know you're safe."

"I'm not the type of person that overstays a welcome, Lyutisifer," her voice remained soft under his dark expression, "I know when I'm not welcome."

His gaze hardened, the muscles in his jaw tightening as she spoke. He was not used to being defied, especially not by someone he had taken such an interest in. 

"It's not about overstaying your welcome," he retorted, his voice low and commanding. "It's about your own safety."

While she didn't respond, Y/N couldn't help but flicker her eyes to the body of the man that had attacked her. Whose blood she now had to wash off.

Safin followed her gaze to the body of the now very dead guard. His eyes flicked back to her, noticing the blood staining her clothes. His expression hardened further as he realised the severity of what happened.

"That should've never happened," he said, his voice flat. His tone implied that he wasn't so much concerned about her being attacked as he was about the fact this had happened under his watch.

"I want to go home..."

He took a step towards her, his expression softening ever so slightly.

"And I want you to be safe." His voice was still firm, but there was a hint of something else, something that sounded like... concern?

"I..." She hesitated, her bottom lip being pulled between her teeth before she spoke, "I can't trust you..."

"And yet you still kissed me." His voice was flat, almost bored, but there was an undercurrent of irritation beneath it.

"You were right..." Y/N spoke, feeling more vulnerable than she ever had in her life, her voice choked with emotion, "This was a mistake." And with those final words, she closed the bathroom door.

December Night | Lyutsifer Safin x Reader

Masterlist | Part 3 to "Cherry" | Previous Y/N is home alone throughout the festive season, still she finds peace in isolation. This peace is broken when some intruders enter her home with the intention to get information about Lyutsifer; by any means necessary. (WC: 3075)

Warnings: Torture, Blood, Guns, Brief mention of waterboarding, General Violence, Secret cameras, Stalker behaviour

AN: Y/N is missing all the red flags here, sorry

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It was December now, which meant it had been two months since the masquerade. Two months since Y/N had made the biggest mistake of her life and had almost allowed it to go further than what it did.

Now she was sitting alone at her flat, eating a shitty Chinese takeaway as a random Christmas movie played on her TV. She’d just gotten up to grab a glass of wine from her fridge when a knock at the door halted her movements.

She wasn’t expecting anyone and instantly was on guard as a result. After carefully pulling one of her handguns from its hidden compartment, she slowly made her way to the door before swinging it open.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked the figure in the doorway with a guarded expression, right hand hidden behind her back with her finger on the trigger.

The strange older man smiled at her, “Forgive me for the late visit, but it’s a matter of great importance. May we come in?”

At his question, her eyes drifted behind him, where she spotted three other men staring at her with a strange, almost intimidating expression. Quickly understanding the situation, Y/N smiled politely and slowly began to close the door. “Sorry, I think you have the wrong place.”

Before she could fully close the door, one of the men behind him stepped forward and forcefully pushed the door open, causing her to stumble backwards into the wall. Raising her gun, she aimed it at them. “Stay back!”

Instead of listening, the three men simply laughed at her before rushing her at once. Y/N fought back as hard as she could, but being outnumbered three to one predictably didn’t work in her favour. Two of them grabbed her by her arms and held her upright as the older man stepped into her flat.

“No, I think we are in exactly the right place,” he spoke slowly before gesturing to the men holding her to carry her to the kitchen. “Tie her to a chair.”

Without question, they pull Y/N down onto one of her kitchen chairs as the third one steps forward and uses zip ties to latch her wrists to the chairs. She let out a hiss when one of the ties began to dig into her skin.

The older man appeared in front of her again, bending down to look her in the eye. “Now, what do you know about Doctor Lyutsifer Safin?”

Without hesitation she replied, “I don’t know anything.”

“This is going to be very painful for you…”

The next two hours for Y/N were a haze of pain and noise. For the first hour she would repeat the same phrase over and over as they continued to hit, cut, and beat her, “I don’t know anything.” It became almost like a mantra for her, but as the torture continued, her mind went numb, and she fell silent.

At one point they grew tired of her silence and decided to pour water over her as her own kitchen towel was placed over her head. She gagged and screamed into the water, but even then she refused to speak.

After the second hour, Y/N finally had a reprieve when they decided to take a break from her torture. The older man had left the kitchen to search her house, followed by two of the men, leaving the third watching her carefully. As they waited for the others to return from their search, there was suddenly another knock on the door.

The silence was broken by a sharp knock at the front door, a sound that echoed through the room. The single remaining man in the kitchen paused, his eyes darting to the door for a moment. After a brief pause, he looked back at Y/N, who was sitting tied to a chair, her expression now one of pain and exhaustion.

"Who could that be?" His voice was rough, a hint of irritation lacing his words.

“Maybe you should do your job and find out.” She replied, her voice from her own screams.

Her ear rang as he harshly smacked her in the face in response, “Watch your fucking mouth, you bitch.”

The sound of the knock at the door echoed through the flat again, this time a little more impatient. The man uttered a small “fuck” before making his way to the door and opening it.

The tension in the room grew as the man began to walk towards the door, clearly irritated by the unexpected guest. He gripped his gun, preparing for whatever or whoever stood on the other side of the door.

He opened the door with a loud creak, revealing an unexpected scene. Standing there was a tall figure in a dark overcoat and black leather gloves, the shadow from the hood of his coat hiding his face.

"What do you want?" the man asked gruffly, his grip on the gun still firm.

With the man distracted, Y/N began to try and squeeze at least one of her hands from the zip ties that forced her to stay in the chair. She let out small whimpers as the plastic dug deeper into her skin; her right wrist had even begun to bleed slightly from the struggle.

She froze when a familiar voice rang through the flat, “Where is she?”

The man at the door tensed slightly at the unexpected voice. He instinctively gripped his gun tighter, his eyes darting briefly to the figure in the shadow.

"Who's asking?" he replied, his tone gruff and cold.

Instead of responding, the mysterious figure instead raised his right hand, revealing a silenced pistol. Before the other man could react, he fired several shots into his chest and watched as he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Suddenly hands were cupping Y/N's face, tilting it around as whoever was in front of her was assessing the damage. Her eyes were blurry now, and she could barely make out a face; afraid, she tried to pull back from the stranger.

“It's me, darling. It's me." The voice was low, a familiar, calming timbre.

Instinctively her body relaxed as she recognised the voice in front of her, “Lyutisfer…” she whispered brokenly.

“Yes, it's me, my darling." He gently tilted her face up to look at him, his tone soothing, "Can you stand?"

She tried to shake her head, only to wince when it made her feel nauseous. “My wrists are tied... I can’t move...”

"Hold still a moment," he said gently, positioning himself behind her so he could see the bindings on her wrists.

With skilled precision, he retrieved a knife from his pocket and swiftly sliced through the ties, freeing her hands from their constraints. Finally free to mouth, she let out a small cry as she rubbed her wrists in discomfort only to accidentally rub against the open wound on her right wrist.

He saw her reaction and immediately reached forward, gently taking her wrist in his hand.

"Be careful," he murmured, his touch gentle but firm, as he looked at the open wound. "This needs tending to."

“Wait, there's three other men upstairs,” she spoke in alarm, her eyes wide as she struggled to focus her sight.

Nevertheless, he didn’t let go and spoke to her in comfort, “My men will take care of them.”

His words emphasised when Y/N heard the distinct sound of three bodies dropping on the floor above them. As the sound of three bodies hitting the floor echoed through the flat, Y/N's eyes widened in realisation at the implications of his words. But before she could utter another word, a man rushed down the stairs, armed and on high alert.

“We need to leave; it’s possible they have backup.”

Lyutsifer nodded at the man's words, acknowledging the urgency. "You're right," he said, his voice still calm and composed. "There's no time to lose."

He gently tightened his grip on her wrist, guiding her out of the chair she had been bound to. Before they could take more than one step, however, Y/N's exhausted body finally gave out, and she collapsed suddenly, her legs too weak to bear her weight any longer.

Lyutsifer moved fast, catching her body before she could hit the ground. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close, an arm under her legs and the other under her back.

"Easy, darling," he murmured, his hold strong and secure, "I've got you."

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked in a daze, a strange confusion settling in her mind.

With Y/N cradled in his arms, Lyutsifer started to move towards the front door, the other man falling into step behind him.

At her question, he glanced down at her, his expression serious.

"Somewhere safe," he responded, his voice steady, "somewhere they won't be able to find you."

Her eyes were growing droopy as a wave of fatigue hit her again; she wanted to sleep. Still she was able to mumble to him, “They were looking for you, not me.”

"I know," he responded, his voice low, "but they'll use you to get to me if they have no other options. So we can't risk it."

“I didn’t tell them anything…” Her voice was growing more and more slurred.

He continued to carry her through the front door and outside, where a black Rolls-Royce was waiting.

"I know you didn't," he assured her, his voice still calm. "You did well, darling."

She smiled tiredly at him before it quickly fell again. “I’m tired…”

"You can rest now," he said, his voice low and gentle. He reached the car, and one of his men immediately opened the door for him.

He slowly lowered her into the backseat, adjusting her so she was comfortable against the plush seats. Lyutisfer then slid in next to her before calling over to the driver in the front, “Drive. Now.”

Y/N felt the car pull away, the motion making her feel even more nauseous than before. So, she slowly tilted herself to the left and lowered herself into Lyutsifer’s lap before closing her eyes with a groan.

As she felt herself drift off to sleep, the last thing she heard was his soft, comforting words, "Rest, darling," he said, his voice quiet. "We'll be there soon enough."

The next time Y/N woke up, it was to the sounds of distant waves and a bright light above her. As she blindly felt around her, she soon realised she was now on a large bed that was covered in black silk sheets.

Having only awakened mere minutes ago, confusion and fear quickly set in as she rapidly looked around the room. She tried to slide herself off of the bed so she could escape wherever she was, only to stop when the door suddenly opened and Lyutsifer stepped inside.

"You're awake," he said, his voice calm. "How do you feel?"

“Where is this?” She asked unsure but still felt herself relax slightly when she saw him.

"You're in a safe place," he assured her. "Somewhere they won't find us."

Y/N nodded in understanding, turning to look around the room again and froze when she saw the IV drip and heart monitor next to the bed. “How long have I been asleep for?”

He followed her gaze, noticing her focus on the medical equipment next to the bed. Her question hung in the air for a brief moment before he answered.

"Three days," he said bluntly, his voice matter-of-fact. "The doctor said you needed rest. And for your wounds to heal properly."

For some reason the only thing she could think of saying in that moment was a small, “Oh.”

Despite her short response, he could practically see the questions and confusion flooding her mind. His gaze didn't leave her, observing her closely as if trying to read her thoughts.

"You had a concussion among other injuries," he continued, his voice still firm but not without an undertone of concern. "The doctor had to stitch your wrist, and you'd lost a fair bit of blood. You needed time to recuperate.”

“How bad was it,” she asked before continuing, “when you came in that night, I mean?”

His expression darkened as he recalled the memory. The sight of her bound and injured still fresh in his mind.

"Bad," he replied simply, his voice lower than before, "You were hurt, bleeding. They'd hit you, bound you. But they hadn't gone any further, not yet at least."

“Good.” She blurted out at his last statement, meaning to say it in her head.

"Good?" he echoed, stepping closer to the bed. “You’re glad you were only beaten and bound?”

“I’ve had worse.” She shrugged, only to wince when she felt pain shoot through her back.

"I'm sure you have," he said, coming to a stop near the bed. His eyes were still fixed on her as he spoke, his tone a mix of concern and caution. "But your back clearly still hurts, which means your wounds aren't healed yet. You should stay still."

She nodded in understanding before looking back at him, “How did you even know what was happening?”

He leaned against the bed frame, hands in his pockets, as he looked down at her.

"I had cameras set up in your flat," he admitted, his gaze unwavering. “I had a feeling they'd come for you eventually. The moment I saw what was happening, I came."

“Everywhere in my flat?” She asked with slight alarm, remembering a certain night a week ago when she may have called out a certain name in bed.

He smirked at her question, the alarm in her voice not missed by him.

"Every room," he confirmed, his tone taking on a slightly teasing edge. He leaned a little closer, eyes studying her intensely. "Including the bedroom."

“Oh god!” She exclaimed and put her face in her hands, “How many people saw it?”

He chuckled at her mortified reaction, enjoying the blush that spread across her face.

"Don't worry," he reassured her, his tone slightly amused, "I was the only one watching that night."

“Please tell me you deleted the footage.” Y/N replied, her face still buried in her hands.

He chuckled again, enjoying seeing her so flustered. He reached out and gently pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him.

"What if I said 'no'?" he teased, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Then it better be locked up even better than the Pentagon, you voyeuristic pervert.” She replied back but for some reason couldn’t find it in her to be completely angry. Although it had invaded her privacy, it had also saved her life.

"Voyeuristic pervert, hm?" he mused, his tone light and playful. "I'm wounded by that, darling. My intentions were purely protective, not perverted."

His words sobered her up again, “I know… I owe you my life.”

"You don't owe me anything," he said firmly, his voice now serious. "I did what I had to do, what any man would have done for a person they..."

He cut himself off, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he'd said more than he intended to. Noticing his hesitation, Y/N inched closer to him with a curious, hopeful expression. “Yes?”

His gaze flicked to her when she inched closer, his eyes meeting hers. He took a moment, weighing his words, before continuing. "For a person they care about," he said, his voice quieter, "For a person they want to protect."

With sheer intensity, she placed her hands on his face and pulled him towards her into a deep kiss.

Caught off guard momentarily, he froze for a brief instant as her hands cupped his face, drawing him closer. But as her lips met his in a deep, intense kiss, any surprise he may have had melted away.

Lyutsifer responded with equal fervour, one hand instantly going to the back of her neck, pulling her even closer, while the other gripped the edge of the bed. Y/N tried to ignore the burn of her back as she tried to sit up so she could kiss him deeper. Subtly wincing into his lips, but refusing to pull away.

Her attempt to sit up and intensify the kiss didn’t go unnoticed by him. As she winced in pain, he felt her gasp against his lips, the subtle wince she tried to hide. Not wanting to cause her further discomfort, he slowly eased her back against the pillows, breaking the kiss. He pulled away, his eyes scanning her face, concern etched in his features.

"Darling, you need to rest," he said, his voice stern but soft. "You're still healing; you shouldn't move so much."

“Haven’t I made you wait long enough?” She asked, trying to sit back up again only to be stopped by his hands holding her down.

“You’ve been asleep for three days,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I can wait a little longer.”

He reached over, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. “You’re too eager, darling. You need time to properly recover.”

With a sigh, Y/N looked down slightly but nodded in disappointed understanding, “So how long am I stuck in this bed then?”

"For at least a few more days," he answered, his tone firm. "You need to rest and let your body heal. The doctor will be checking on you regularly, and you'll have to take it easy until your wounds are fully healed."

“And then?”

He ran his fingers idly through her hair as she asked her question, his touch gentle and tender.

"And then," he replied, "you'll be free to move around again. Well, within reason."

He smirked before continuing, "But you'll still have to take it easy for a while. No more attempting to break out of bed just because you're impatient."

“So what exactly am I supposed to do till then?” She asked as Lyutsifer moved to sit next to her on the bed.

"Rest, darling," he said, his tone firm but not without a hint of affection. "You need to let your body recover. You can read, watch TV, or I could find you something to keep you occupied. But you're not leaving this room for the time being."

“Okay.” She agreed, although secretly she couldn’t wait for the doctor to sign her off and allow her to move around again.

- One Shots -

Back to Welcome | Multi-chapter Fics *Indicates Smut

Josh Washington Chocolate Brownies - GN!Reader Zero Suit* Inked Up* Akhmenrah Fireworks - GN!Reader Lyutsifer Safin "Cherry", (PT2) Masquerade* , (PT3) December Night

Le Chiffre White Fur Trim*

Masquerade | Lyutsifer Safin x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Masterlist | Part 2 to "Cherry" 6 months after the events in vegas, Y/N has a unexpected reunion with the mysterious figure who had both saved and endangered her life. (WC: 3484)

Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, slight praise kink, AFAB! reader.

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After the incident in Vegas, Y/N had been put on leave for four months. M had told her it wasn’t a punishment but to give her time to recuperate from the effects of the drugs. It had been the longest four months of her life.

Even after her leave ended, she was then given exclusively domestic assignments. Hence why Y/N currently finds herself in the middle of a ballroom wearing a rabbit-shaped mask and an elegant glittering white dress.

She’d been assigned as one of the bodyguards for a foreign princess, attending an exclusive masquerade ball. Thankfully, because the princess was young, she left before nine, and Y/N was permitted to stay and enjoy the ball as an attendee.

“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you again, 'Cherry,” a familiar voice whispered closely in her ear, causing Y/N to turn her and gaze into the piercing blue eyes hidden behind a black wolf mask.

“How did you get in here?” She asked her voice a whisper so as not to gain too much attention.

“I was invited.” Safin had answered, smirking. “I must say I prefer this to what you were wearing the last we met.”

She couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks as he spoke. The silence she experienced during her four-month leave allowed her time to think. As she tried to think back to that night and her next plan of action, she always found herself thinking of him.

“Why are you speaking to me?” Y/N whispered harshly, still staring into his eyes.

"Does a man need a reason to talk to a beautiful woman?" He asked, his voice still low, seductive. Y/N shivered as she felt his eyes on her, moving them downwards as he admired the exposed skin of her chest.

“A man like you does.” She answered, looking away to watch the couples dance in hopes of distracting herself.

"And what kind of man do you think I am, Miss Y/L/N?" Safin took a step closer, closing the distance between them. He lifted his hand, placing it on her waist, pulling her slightly closer to him.

Y/N couldn’t help but gasp at the sudden contact, “A man who definitely has ulterior motives.”

"And what ulterior motives would that be?" He leaned in even closer, his lips nearly brushing against her ear.

She subconsciously leaned backwards into him for a moment before quickly pulling away from him. “I want no part in your plans.”

With that, she shook herself and grabbed the first man she saw to pull her onto the dance floor to get away from him. It was not until the stranger put her hands on her waist roughly did she come to regret the decision. He was a tall blonde, but the smug smirk on his masked face showed her he was an egotistical rich kid.

"Well, you sure are forward." He drawled out as they began to waltz.

“Believe me, this isn’t what I intended to do tonight.”

“Don’t worry,” he spun her, suddenly making her head spin. “I have that effect on women.”

God Y/N just wanted this to end. Instead, the song still had a few minutes left, so she sighed and resigned herself to being stuck with this unfortunate dance partner. The man tried to make conversation, but it was all hallow bragging about how rich he was, or more accurately, his parents.

As the music neared its end, Y/N stiffened as she spotted Safin approaching from behind the blonde and tapping him on the shoulder, interrupting the dance.

“May I cut in?” His voice was cold; it came out as a command rather than a question.

The blonde was about to protest, but a sharp look from Safin made him lose his nerves, and he stepped away. Allowing for Safin to place his arm around Y/N’s waist and pull her close as the next song began.

As they began to dance, Y/N was silent for a moment before she looked up at him and asked, “Aren’t you worried about drawing attention to yourself?”

"I've dealt with unwanted attention before." He replied, his voice low. "And I assure you, no one in this room will dare question me."

He took a step forward, moving her closer to him, their bodies nearly pressed against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, the subtle scent of her perfume filling his senses.

"Oh, I’m aware of your power, Lyutsifer Safin.” Y/N spoke, revealing her knowledge of his identity. After the incident those months ago, she’d secretly researched heavily into the mysterious man who’d broken her cover so easily yet had let her go.

"You have done your research, it seems." He chuckled, amused.

As they continued to dance, Lyutsifer’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her even closer to him, their bodies now almost flush. He looked down at her, a hint of condescension in his eyes.

"And what do you make of me, Miss Y/L/N?"

She hesitated for a moment before she answered, “To be frank, not much; over these last few years you’ve been a ghost, just a whisper. But one name stands out next to yours. Spectre.”

Lyutsifer’s face hardened at the mention of Spectre, a flicker of anger and pain crossing his features. His hand on her waist tightened to the point of being painful. He could feel the pulse of anger thrumming just beneath the surface.

"You know about Spectre?" He asked, his voice dangerously low.

She scoffed lowly, “Of course I know about Spectre; I helped bring most of the lower circle in.”

"You helped bring them in?" He repeated, his voice laced with interest. "You were a part of that operation?

“Well, I won’t take full credit." Y/N replied modestly, “Double O Seven did the most work.”

He took a step forward, pulling her closer, their bodies almost touching now. He leaned in, his breath teasing her ear. "How did you end up involved with them anyway?"

Y/N inhaled sharply at his breath before answering calmly, “I was an orphan; MI6 recruited me because I had nothing to lose and nobody to miss me.”

His grip on her waist relaxed slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he looked at her closely, studying her face, trying to gauge her expression.

"I've made my peace with it," she replied truthfully, looking intently at his face with an expression of acceptance.

He gently tilted her chin up with his other hand, holding her gaze.

"You've made peace with a lonely existence, yet here you stood tonight wearing a beautiful dress, dancing the night away." He mused, his voice low and contemplative.

She wasn’t sure what to say in response to his words; instead, she remained silent and focused on the music. Lyutisfer watched her carefully, keeping his hand on her waist as he guided her around the dance floor.

They danced in silence for a while, only broken at her question. Her voice was almost a whisper and showed her vulnerability. “I don’t understand, why me?”

Lyutsifer looked down at her, his eyes holding hers in a steely gaze. He held her close, his grip tight, almost possessive.

"Why you, Miss Y/L/N?" He murmured.

“Just tell me." Her voice was strained, tense from the tension she was feeling between the two of them.

Lyutsifer leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Perhaps this should be taken somewhere more private?”

She knew deep down that going anywhere private with him was dangerous; it was asking for trouble. His suggestion was both thrilling and terrifying, and she knew it was too late to protest. She found herself hesitantly nodding.

He smiled, pleased with her agreement, no matter how hesitant she was. As the music approached its close, Lyutsifer took her hand and quickly led her from the dance floor and out of the ballroom. The hallways were completely empty save for a few guards, but they ignored the pair as Lyutsifer escorted her far away from the ball and into an empty parlour room.

As they stepped inside, the air grew thick with the sudden tension of being alone. Y/N realised that anything could happen here and no one would ever know. She heard the door click as Lyutsifer closed it behind them. He approached her, keeping his eyes focused on hers as he reached out to graze his fingers on the side of her neck.

A shiver spread through her body, and her gasp filled the silent air. “This is too dangerous.”

He stepped closer and pushed her backwards into the wall. “Then why did you come with me so readily?”

“I’m not sure.”

Lyutsifer chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent a shiver through her body. He had her trapped against the wall, his body pressed against hers, the heat between them intensifying.

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "You could have left; you could have called for help." His lips brushed her neck, and his voice whispered with seduction. "But you didn't, did you?"

“I should have." It was harder for her to say, “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

"No, darling, there's nothing wrong with you," he murmured, his fingers tracing a line down her neck, caressing the sensitive skin. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her collarbone, planting a soft, lingering kiss there.

Her back arched as he kissed her collarbone, letting out a small moan in pleasure. Unable to stop herself, she gripped the back of his neck to pull him closer. He continued to trail kisses down her collarbone and neck until he suddenly pulled away. They looked each other in the eye with an unreadable expression before Lyutsifer grabbed her cheeks and pulled her into a heated kiss.

She closed her eyes as she responded to the kiss eagerly. As His scarred lips pushed against hers, desire continued to pool in Y/N’s stomach. Lyutsifer pushed forward, placing his left leg in between her own; in response, Y/N began to gently grind herself on his thigh.

Lyutsifer responded with matching desire, deepening the kiss and gripping her cheeks with a firm, possessive grip. His left hand slipped to her hip, holding her tightly against him.

With a hand against his chest, Y/N pushed against his chest and reached up to hold the mask covering his face. “May I?”

Lyutsifer pulled back slightly, a hint of surprise in his eyes at her question. He looked at her, his gaze intense and unreadable.

"You want to see my face." He stated it as a fact, his voice almost nonchalant. "Why?" His grip on her cheek tightened slightly.

“It’s too impersonal to kiss you behind a mask,” she replied, forgetting she was still wearing a mask of her own. “Besides, I have seen it before.”

He studied her, his expression contemplative, before his fingers moved to her own mask, pulling it off and stroking his hand against her cheek.

"You're right. Too impersonal." He admitted, his voice quieter. "But are you sure you want to see it? It's not exactly pretty."

“But it’s your face; I want to see it.” She replied, already reaching underneath it to pull it up and off his face.

As his mask was removed, Lyutisfer watched her eyes widen as she took in the sight of his face. He knew it was a shock—the scars, the disfigurement—but he didn't look away, holding her gaze in an unflinching stare.

"You're not, repulsed?"

“It’s like lightning, beautiful.”

"Beautiful," he echoed, the word a whisper. "You see beauty in this disfigurement?"

She smiled slightly at him, far more comfortable than she knew she should be. “They may not be as big, but I also have my fair share of scars.”

He looked her over, taking in the way the soft light played across her skin and the way the dress clung to her body. His eyes zeroed in on the hint of scars peeking out from the edges of her dress, and his heart lurched. Scars that mirrored his own, scars that held a silent history.

"Show me." He murmured, his hand coming up to cup her face, tilting her chin up towards him. "Let me see them."

At his words, her confidence faulted slightly. While she’d never been insecure about her scars, she was suddenly aware of how vulnerable she had made herself in this moment. Nevertheless, she carefully turned around and allowed him to unzip the back of her dress.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his hand reach out and slowly pull the zip down, revealing her scarred back to him. Across her back were several long, jagged lines of scarring; the lighter colour made them stand out against her skin in the low light.

“I got caught during an undercover; their favourite method of torture was whipping.” She explained quietly as she felt his hands softly trace across her back.

“Beautiful,” Lyutsifer muttered before leaning forward and placing a small kiss in the centre of her spine, causing her to let out a soft, breathy moan. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her closer, and he continued to trail kisses upwards to her neck.

“Please.” She breathed out, but she had no idea what she was asking for, having to place a hand on the wall in front of her to steady herself.

He chuckled against her skin, "Please what, Dragotsennyy?" He asked in a whisper. "Use your words."

“I don’t know.” Her mind was racing, but all she could focus on was the feelings of him kissing and breathing on her back.

"You're thinking too much, darling." He murmured against her skin, his lips moving up to her ear, his tone commanding.

Y/N pulled away and slowly turned to face him, her back now pressed against the wall. “It’s hard not to.”

"You have a habit of overthinking, don't you?" he commented, a hint of humour in his voice.

He smirked as he moved his hand from her waist and slid through the slit in her dress, gently massaging her inner thigh. Y/N gasped at his sudden action, arching her back slightly and pressing her chest against his.

After shaking herself slightly, she replied, “Someone has to.”

"You're too independent," he murmured, his hand continuing to knead her thigh. "Too focused on control. You need to let go, sometimes."

Before she could respond, Lyutsifer moved his hand from her thigh and simply grazed Y/N’s core through her underwear. She responded with a loud moan, “Fuck, Lyutisifer.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "Language, dragotsennyy." He whispered, his fingers still rubbing against her.

All the young agent could do was whimper in response, her eyes closed as she began to gently grind against his fingers. He chuckled again, feeling her writhe and grind against his fingers, her whimper echoing in the air. Her reaction was exactly what he wanted—a beautiful, desperate need for more.

He brought his other hand to her face, tilting it, forcing her to look up at him. His gaze captured her, intense and unwavering.

"Open your eyes, Dragotsennyy," he commanded. "Look me in the eye."

She opened her eyes and gazed into his crystal eyes before almost squeezing them shut when Lyutsifer took the opportunity to slide her underwear aside and immediately circle her clit.

He leaned in closer, his lips practically touching her ear as he whispered, "Don't close your eyes; look at me." His fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements against her.

As his stroking continued, Y/N obediently kept her eyes connected with his stare. Only fluttering slightly as she whined and moaned from his touch.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips as she kept her eyes on his. He loved watching her in this state, completely at his mercy, completely under his control.

His fingers continued their slow, deliberate rhythm, drawing out her moans and whines, his eyes never leaving her face. He wanted to see every reaction, every expression, and every moment that flitted across her face.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So responsive, so beautiful."

After he spoke, Lyutsifer gently pushed his index finger forward and into her soaking entrance. Unable to control her body, a sudden electric sensation spread through and caused her to arch her back, eyes rolling back slightly, eyes fluttering shut.

“No, no, Dragotsennyy," he chided softly, his fingers continuing their slow, deliberate rhythm. "Eyes on me. Open them." His tone was firm, commanding control.

“I can’t,” she choked out, hands moving to grip his neck. “It’s too much.”

He smirked, loving the way she gripped his neck, needing something to hold onto. He could see the pleasure written all over her face and could hear it in her voice. She was on the edge, about to fall.

"Yes, you can." He countered, his tone firm. His fingers continued to move, but he slowed just slightly, wanting to prolong the moment, the edge of sweet release just out of reach.

"Look at me." He repeated, his voice low, commanding.

Her eyes flew open at his command, ever the obedient. She pulled his face closer so their foreheads touched, still looking deep into his eyes and moaning loudly as she reached her peak,  almost shrieking in ecstasy.

Her scream of ecstasy echoed through the room, her body trembling with the intensity of her climax. He held her close, their foreheads touching, his fingers still moving but far more slowly, bringing her back down gently.

He watched her, captivated by the sight of her, by the raw, unguarded pleasure on her face, by the way her eyes stayed on his, even as she rode out the wave of her release.

He pulled her close as her body finally relaxed, whispering against her cheek, "Beautiful. You're so beautiful like this."

Still coming down from her high, she didn’t speak. Instead, she lent forward and gently kissed him before resting her head on his shoulder as she caught her breath.

She was breathless, her breaths still coming in gasps as she leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He gently held her, his hand rubbing small circles on her back, feeling the slight tremors still running through her body.

"You did so well, Dragotsennyy," he murmured against her ear. "You were so good, so responsive."

As he spoke, his hand trailed down her back before carefully zipping her dress back up, causing shivers to spread through Y/N’s body again. She leant further against him in exhaustion.

“We shouldn’t have done that.” She said, her voice hoarse, and nothing more than a whisper.

He laughed softly, her words a weak, weary protest against what they had just done. He had seen the way she responded to his touch, the way she lost herself in ecstasy, the way her body trembled in pleasure.

"You enjoyed it," he responded. "Don't pretend otherwise."

“That’s the problem,” the young agent answered as she pulled herself upwards in an attempt to move away. “It can’t happen again if anyone finds out...”

Before she could finish, Lyutsifer grabbed her cheek, making her face him. “Then I could claim you as my own; no one would get in my way.”

It was a firm declaration, a possessive gesture that spoke volumes. He was claiming her in more ways than one. His eyes locked onto hers, unflinching, as he continued to hold her gaze.

Suddenly the door opened to the room they had hidden away in, and a mysterious man in a suit appeared. He didn’t seem surprised by what he found and instead looked directly at Lyutsifer and said, "Dr. Safin sir, we have a problem.”

"A problem?" he enquired, his expression turning serious at the man's words. He released his grip on Y/N, turning fully to face the newcomer. "What kind of problem?"

The newcomer glanced at Y/N in slight caution before turning back to his boss, “I think it’d be best to discuss in private.”

“It’s fine I was just leaving.” She spoke up as she pulled herself away and moved towards the door.

"Wait," he said, his tone firm. He watched as she hesitated, her hand on the door handle, then turned back to him, "We're not quite done here."

“I’m sorry, but I think we are.” With that, she turned the handle and swiftly left the room.

Footsteps echoed as she excited the room and quickly walked down the corridor to the main entrance, afraid she was being followed. When she left the building, she quickly found a taxi to take her home.

It was almost cruel how similar this was to that night all those months ago. She allowed him to get to close again, and she had run. And yet, despite how much danger she had already put herself in, all she wanted to do was run back inside.

'Cherry' | Fem!Y/N x Lyutsifer Safin

Masterlist Y/N is working undercover at a Strip Club in Vegas when she encounters Safin meeting with a potential supplier for his newest concoction, usually a top performing agent she suddenly finds herself being unable to tell a lie. (Word Count: 2553)

Warnings: Guns, Blood, Death, Drug usage, Drink spiking (but not by Safin)

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“I said this was a terrible idea...” Y/N said as she adjusted the tight leather dress she’d been forced to wear.

“We just need to get the benefactor’s name; it shouldn’t take much longer.” Q explained as he checked his surveillance gear; he usually didn’t leave London, but Y/N had specifically requested Q join her as she trusted him the most.

“It’s been two weeks, Q...”

“Apparently someone’s booked the VIP booth tonight, so this might be the last night you have to do.”

MI6 had been trailing a possible drug ring that operated in Las Vegas; rumours had spread a drug that completely erases a person's ability to lie, making them more controllable. As one of the youngest female agents, Y/N was assigned to go undercover at one of the target strip clubs and figure out who was funding the operation. They’d found a job at a club called ‘Bunny Girls’ and inserted Y/N in as Cherry, the club’s newest waitress.

“Anyway, you’re running late for your shift, so go go go.” As he spoke, Q pushed her out of the small building he’d been operating from. Once Y/N was outside, she huffed before walking around the corner and entering the club she was undercover at.

"Cherry, just the girl I want to see.” The club owner greeted her as she entered the dressing room, “The VIP booth is booked tonight, so I want all your attention on our big spenders.”

Y/N bat her eyes, taking on the role of Cherry once again. “Sure thing, boss,” she said, earning an appreciative look from the owner. Once he left, she sat down in her chair and started getting ready.

When the club opened an hour later, Y/N had her hair curled and her makeup completed, the glitter on her eyes making them sparkle under the club. Standing, she readjusted her dress one more time before making her way on to the main club floor.

“Hey Cherry!” John, the barman, greeted her as she stepped behind the bar. “You dressed up pretty tonight.”

She repressed the urge to roll her eyes; ever since she’d gone undercover, John had taken every opportunity to shamelessly flirt with her. According to the other girls, he took it as tradition to sleep with all the new starters.

“I’m dressed the same as I usually do, John,” Y/N stated, and she started getting the VIP buckets prepped, filling them with ice. 

He simply smiled at her. “I know..." John titled his down as she crouched to pull out the bottles for the ice buckets. “But I think you get hotter every night.”

“Does that line usually work?” She stood back up and started placing the bottle in the buckets.

“Don’t pretend it isn’t working on you.” He leans into her space as he speaks; Y/N backs up slightly.

“I’ve got a job to do so…” As she speaks, she gestures to the two buckets she needed to take to the VIP booth.

"Well, before you go, at least taste test my newest drink.” She sees a shot glass slide across the counter in front of her. “It’s cherry-flavoured.”

Y/N is about to say no; tell him to fuck off with his desperate attempts to seduce her, but instead she just sighs and drinks the shot quickly so she can continue this night without any more problems. He’s right, it does taste like cherries; it’s sweet and a little tart, but Y/N still finds herself enjoying it. Placing the glass down, she turns to John, “Happy now?”

“Very, now go on; we can talk later.” He had a strange look on his face, but Y/N decided to just leave it until later. She walks back out of the bar while carrying the two buckets, heading to the VIP booth.

In the booth are what seems to be two different groups of men, clearly some ‘business’ discussing some type of criminal partnership. One group Y/N recognises as an infamous casino owner and drug dealer in Las Vegas, but the other is an enigma. Her eyes scan the second group; they seem more professional than the first group. The first group greets her with cheers and whistles while they keep their expressions guarded.

Sitting in the middle of the booth are the two leaders of the groups. The first group’s leader is an older man, dressed in what you’d expect a mob boss to dress in. The second is younger but still mature-looking; his face is covered in scarring that reminds Y/N of lighting; it’s eerily beautiful. His blue eyes are calculating as he looks at her; he seems almost amused.

Shaking off his gaze, Y/N retakes her ‘Cherry’ persona: “Hello Gentlemen, welcome to Bunny Girls; I’m Cherry, and I’ll be your waitress this evening; anything you need, just give me a call.” She finishes her introduction with a flirty wink.

The scarred man doesn’t speak to her instead choosing to whisper to his companion, who looks at her. Instead, the other leader turns to her with a leer. “This is why I like this place; they always give us the pretty ones.”

He gestures to the space between him and the scarred man, “Come sit with us, darling.”

Y/N hesitates for a moment and glances at the scarred man subconsciously, who simply gives her a subtle nod. As she moves towards the empty space beside him, her heart beats faster. She feels the man’s gaze on her, causing shivers to spread through her body.

The other man put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him, leaning in close. “What’s a pretty thing like you working in a place like this?”

Her body feels hot suddenly, and thinking it’s just from the men's body heat, she ignores it. “Just making sure you lovely gentlemen enjoy your night.” She answers, but a part of her feels compelled to keep speaking; she bites her lip to stop herself.

“Not what I mean, darling,” the man responds, “I mean, how’d a girl like you end up here and not under the arm of some billionaire?”

Without thinking, she blurts out an answer: "Well, I didn’t want to work here, but my boss made me.”

‘Why are you saying this?’ Y/N thinks confused with herself; her mind feels cloudy, and her body starts to loosen. She keeps thinking back to that cherry-flavoured shot she’d drank. ‘Shit… I’ve been drugged.

The scarred man leans back to look at her; his eyes suggest he’s thinking of something. “Interesting…” His voice is deep and hoarse with a thick Russian accent. “And why did he make you work here?”

“We need information on a potential drug ring; the drug currently circulating could compromise The Crown’s security.” She needed to get out of here before she’d kept talking, but she couldn’t move.

He leaned in closer, assessing her carefully. Close enough to smell, she inhaled sharply—florals and something else. Y/N felt out of control; her body wasn’t computing with her mind anymore. He spoke in a low whisper, “And why would a girl like you care about the safety of the crown?”

This was bad; it was clear this man knew Y/N had been drugged. “She’s a goddam spy!” The other man yelled alarm as he pulled his hand away and stood, his men following suit. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it towards her.

The scarred man's smirk widened as he watched the scene play out, the revelation of her identity causing a shift in the room. The other man is now pointing a weapon at her. He remained calm, unmoving. He was amused by the development, intrigued by the young women.

"A spy? How intriguing." He leaned forward, his eyes locking with hers, his voice dripping with a hint of mockery.

"You have quite the nerve, Miss..." He let the question hang in the air, waiting for her response.

“Y/L/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” She said through gritted teeth, still trying to resist the effects of the drugs, forcing her body to stand.

Safin chuckled softly, appreciating her determination. "Miss Y/L/N..." He savoured the way her name rolled off his tongue. "How interesting, a spy from MI6.”

He watched her struggle to stand, her attempts to resist the effects of the drugs in vain. His eyes scanned her figure and the way her body moved uncontrollably. There was something so enticing about the way she was fighting, the way she was losing her composure.

He stood slowly, walking towards her. His voice was low, almost seductive. Y/N was overwhelmed with how this man was able to effect her, but trying to regain her dignity, she held her head high and responded, “You never introduced yourself, sir.”

"Ah, forgive me, where are my manners?” He spoke, standing to move in front of her, his eyes predatory. “I am Doctor Lyutsifer Safin.”

She stepped back from him in fear but froze when she felt the end of the gun. The other man was still aiming towards her. The man she now knew as Safin watched her carefully, “Leave us; we will discuss our business later.” He spoke to the other group, not taking his eyes off the young agent.

The other men left without hesitation, their gazes lingering on Safin and the young agent before they exited the VIP booth. As soon as they were alone, the atmosphere changed drastically. The club around them was still alive—the music, the laughter, the dancing. She could hear the announcer introduce another girl as the crowd cheered. But in their isolated vicinity, it was almost quiet, almost intimate.

He took another step towards her. “You... don’t know who I am, do you?”

“Should I?" She couldn’t move, allowing him to take a mother step forward, their chests almost touching. 

He smiled slightly amused by her response, reaching a hand to trace his finger along her jawline, his touch as light as a feather. “You’re the one undercover, spying on my people.”

“I was given a very... limited mission assignment.” She explained, giving up on stopping herself when it was clear nothing could, “We didn’t know who we were looking for.”

His touch became more purposeful, fingertips gliding down her arm, feeling her body shiver under his touch. His eyes roamed over her face, observing her closely. "Who sent you here, Miss Y/L/N?"

“I think you already know," she spoke, trying to hold onto the last piece of information her drugged mind hadn’t given up.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and his hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer. His voice was a whisper; she could feel his breath on her neck. “I want you to say it out loud.”

Y/N clenched her eyes shut, unable to hold back any longer, “I work for MI6.”

She heard Safin hum seemingly pleased with her response. His grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh just a little harder.

He leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching her neck, his breath hot and heavy against her skin.

"Good girl..." he murmured. "Now tell me, are you alone in this operation?”

"I...” she could feel herself speak, about to expose the entire operation, when another dancer, Honey, stepped into the booth. “Cherry, you’re needed at the bar.”

Safin's eyes met those of the dancer. His gaze hardened at the unexpected intrusion, but he let go of Y/N. He took a step back, looking between the two women. "Miss Y/L/N and I are still having our conversation."

Sensing an opportunity to escape, Y/N moved to the entrance of the booth before speaking, “I should go see what they need; it was a pleasure meeting you, Doctor Safin.”

She left before he could react, but instead of going to the bar, she went to the dressing room. Grabbing her bag, she escaped through the backdoors, hoping to reconvene with Q. As she moved through the parking lot, texting Q that she’d been compromised, a voice behind her made her freeze. “Going somewhere?”

As she turned, she came face to face with John, but his face was different from his usual personality. His eyes were dark and narrow as he stared at her. Her hand reached into her grab to grip her gun, and she spoke, “You drugged me.”

John chuckled at her accusation, clearly amused by her realisation. "Drugged you? I was simply making you comfortable.”

“What did you give me?” She asked, thankful the night air was helping to clear her head. “Where did you get it from?”

“A friend of mine hooked me up; it's... experimental, but most of the girls have enjoyed it.” John admitted no longer seeing the need to hide, taking a step forward.

As he began to approach, Y/N pulled her gun from her pocket, aiming at him. “Stay right there!”

John smirked at her, nearly laughing, “Give me a break; you’re just a stripper... what damage could you do?”

“You have no idea." She tried to steady her hand, but it still trembled slightly. She was coming down from the drug, but it’d still be a while.

Josh ignored the gun and began to run towards her, planning to ambush her and knock her down. He nearly reached her when suddenly his body fell and blood sprayed on her face. Y/N looked at her in confusion; she hadn’t fired.

Her eyes looked from her gun down to John's body, breathing heavily from the adrenaline. She looked up from the body and was face-to-face once again with Safin. He was holding a small silenced pistol, the muzzle still smoking.

Y/N shuffles on her feet slightly under his intense stare. He seems allured by the crimson splatter now staining her face, stepping closer, causing her to take a step back. She’s still breathing heavily and tries to catch her breath.

“Most people would thank the person that saved their life.” He spoke as he calmly handed his gun to his second in command.

“I had it handled.”

"Oh, I’m sure you did.” Safin replied almost mockingly.

A car’s horn sounded, causing Y/N to finally turn away from him; just down the road, she recognised the lights of Q’s car. Without speaking again, she sprinted down the street and flung the door open. Throwing her bag in, she was about to jump inside too, but she paused. Turning back for a moment, her eyes once again met the piercing blue of Lyutsifer Safin, and you both knew this wouldn’t be the last encounter.

As Y/N hopped into the car, she ignored Q’s rapid questions and closed her eyes. She sighed as she ran through the last hour through her head; her face was still wet with John’s blood, but she didn’t have the energy to wipe it off. Resting her head on the window, she fell asleep as her friend quickly drove them away from Las Vegas and towards their extraction point.

Safin watched as the car you entered pulled away and quickly raced from the scene; it was only as the car turned the corner did he finally look away. He briefly looked at the body on the ground before he began giving orders to his men. “Get rid of the body,” he stated as he began to walk away, “and find me anything you can on Y/N Y/L/N”.

AN: Part 2 out now!

- Multi-Chapter Stories -

Back to Welcome | Oneshot Masterlist Doing Time || Spencer Reid x OC

Hana Fedorov is the BAU’s newest agent, she’s sarcastic, intelligent and slightly crazy. She also happens to be the adoptive daughter and protégée of one of the FBI’s most wanted hitmen. After the FBI become aware of a online network of hitmen they hire Hana to help in the investigation. What no one on the team expected was the unlikely relationship formed between Hana and their resident genius.

Ancient Princess || The Witcher

After the disaster at Caingorn Jaskier thought he was destined to be alone in the world. Until one day while wandering deep the forest just trying to make it home, he stumbles upon something he never expected. An ancient elven city. When he entered the city he’d didn’t think he come out of it with a young elven princess with a great destiny in tow. Perhaps he had more in common with Geralt than he thought. Note: This was written before Blood Origin and Season 3 so expect canon divergence

La Vie En Rose || Bruce Wayne x OC

Rosie has been the PA for the infamous Bruce Wayne for the last 5 years. Although closer to Bruce than anyone else at Wayne industries, the closer she got to him and the Wayne family she realised she didn't know her boss as much as she thought. Honestly I basically made Batman into a K-Drama but I don't not care.

Sunrise || Jasper Hale x OC

The Tanaka sisters have lived in Forks their whole lives, it's a quiet town where nothing interesting happens. That is until the night of Mitsuko's graduation. Now both Mitsuko and Hoshiko Tanaka find themselves entangled in the world of the supernatural. As the pair learn more, one mystery still remains. Why is Mitsuko immune to the bite?

When Snow Fall || Finnick Odair x OC

Valeria Snow is the 'Princess of the Capitol', as the oldest granddaughter of the infamous President Snow she's lived her entire life trying to make a reputation of her own. After she volunteers as the newest escort for District 4, she finds her life shifting completely off course especially after she becomes closer to the famous Finnick Odair.