Secrets in the Shadows

This was a request from one of my Patreon patrons! I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope they like it. 😀

“Sombra offline. Hasta luego, Hanzo Shimada.”

Hanzo sighed and let his bow drop a fraction of an inch. Sombra going offline didn’t mean safety; it never had, and he was no fool to drop his guard this time of all times, near the end of her “tests.” It was his fifth – and second-to-last – mission working with the elusive and enigmatic hacker, and if he’d learned anything about her it was that she was impossible to learn anything about.

Hanzo had used every connection still available to him, and Sombra was her namesake. A shadow on the internet, untouchable, untraceable.

Completely fucking unpredictable. That much he knew from the time she’d declared the area clear of hostiles half a minute before a bullet grazed so close that it singed a lock of hair.

“They weren’t hostile at the time,” she’d said, chuckling darkly into the comm.

She was toying with him, and he knew it, but he couldn’t say no. Not when she knew what she did.

Not when she had information about his brother.


It had started four months ago, with an email.

“Hola, arquero,” it began. “How’s life on the run treating you? At least you still exist, unlike some Shimada brothers.”

“Who is this?” he’d replied. “What do you know?”

The message had bounced back. Undeliverable – address failed.

Two days later was the text with no number attached.

“Did you Shimadas think no one would ever find out?” it said. “Killing a brother is one thing, but erasing one? What a mess, Hanzito.”

He attempted the same reply. His keyboard refused to type, and as he smashed fruitlessly at the screen, a second text came in.

“You macho men, always thinking you’re so in control. I’ll be in touch.”

His phone crashed, and when it restarted, the texts were gone.

The call was another week after that, and that was when he’d learned who she was and what she wanted.

His help, her silence. A series of six missions, unpaid, completely off the record. If she liked his performance, she would keep his secrets.

Everything had its price.

Hanzo had to pay it.


The third mission was the first time she’d purred sin into his ear and told him to focus through it.

It had started like the other two – sufficiently professional, direct, unorthodox.

“Five coming, Shimada,” she’d snapped, then followed it up with “Six, including me, if you keep shooting like that” when he shot the first through the eye.

“I don’t understand,” he deadpanned, barely loud enough to be picked up by the comm. “Is it five or six?”

“Puto, even I know what that means,” she replied, laughter rumbling in his ear. “It means five, and you look like sin.”

Her next sentence dropped into something much less professional and much more unorthodox.

“You know I’m watching you fight,” she rumbled, voice breathy. For the first time, he realized how much the comm made it sound like she was there with him. “Who’s to say I’m not watching you when you do other things?”

He froze just as he released an arrow, watching numbly as it took out the wrong enemy.

“What are you implying?” he hissed, letting another arrow fly and taking out the original target.

“Nada mucho,” Sombra replied, voice catching. “Only that I know you– mm, get off on being told what to do.”

Hanzo gritted his teeth and ducked behind cover. The last body fell only half a block away, too close for comfort.

“My proclivities are irrelevant, and not your concern.”

“Everything’s my concern if I want it to be, Hanzo.” Sombra chuckled darkly in his ear. “I’ve watched you come all over yourself, and I’ve watched what you do it to. Three more inbound soon, by the way, so now’s your chance to climb.”

He darted out of cover and up the side of a building, swinging onto a balcony and using the momentum to continue upward. A shot embedding itself in the wall inches from his left ear sent chunks of brick into his cheek and forehead, and he left a trail of blood as he scrambled onto the roof.

“I thought you said it was my chance to climb!”

“Oh, it was. But you look good in red. I like it. Was I wrong?”

“Yes! I was nearly shot!”

“Not about that. About what gets you hard, Hanzito, focus.”

He felt sufficiently focused as he shot a sonic arrow into the building across the street, watching the silhouettes of far more than three people heading his direction.

“There are more than three.”

“Oops. Answer my question, or they might accidentally find your hiding spot.” Her voice turned sultry again, rumbling in his ear. “You get off to being bossed around, Hanzo?”

He could almost feel her breath on his neck – but of course, she was in the comm, not with him. It didn’t stop the heat from building low in his groin, and he spat a quiet curse in Japanese before responding.

“Yes,” he croaked, raising his bow over the lip of the roof and firing based on the sonic image alone. One of the figures dropped a moment later, and the answering bullet came nowhere near him. Blood from the cut on his forehead dripped into his eyes.

“You like it when I tell you what to do?”

Another blind shot over his head. He frowned when no one fell.


He was fully hard now, purposefully leveling his breathing, trying to control his heart rabbiting in his chest.

“Focus, Hanzo, you missed that one. Aim. Fire.” She sounded as breathless as he was, and for the first time he wondered if she might enjoy this as much as he did.

He aimed. He fired. Enemy down, but not as cleanly as usual.

“Snap back into it, arquero. Don’t make me punish you.”

He couldn’t help himself. He whimpered. Sombra hummed in his ear.

“Kill them all, you naughty boy. Show me what the dragons can do.”

He stood, hair blowing in wind that wasn’t there, blood streaming down his neck and soaking his collar.

Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!

He almost didn’t hear her bitten-off moan over the ringing in his ears, but he definitely heard the panting mirroring his own.

“Increíble,” she gasped. “You’re so good for me.”

He managed to not collapse, but it was a near thing.

“That’s enough for now. I’ll be in touch. Sombra offline.”

Back in his safehouse, pants at his knees and hand on his cock, he swore to himself he wasn’t this desperate. Desperate enough to get off to his informant – his boss? Pathetic. Disgusting. Weak.

He came thinking of her voice, and fell asleep wondering how she would look in his lap.

She watched it all.


The sixth and final mission came via text in the middle of a paid job.

“Tomorrow, 3 pm, at the square two blocks from the safehouse in the town you’re in right now.”

“I’m on a paid job, Sombra,” he tried to reply, only to get the goddamn undeliverable error message. He squeezed his phone so hard he heard the frame of it creak.

A second text appeared. “I know you are, and I don’t care.”

Hanzo stared blankly at the screen. Of course she could see his messages anyway. Of course she knew where he was.

“You don’t want me to release the really meaty tidbits on the Shimada family’s indiscretions, do you?”

“You are fully aware that I do not.”


“Good. Then don’t disappoint me.”

He rushed to rearrange his schedule, infuriated the entire time. He slept fitfully and barely two hours, and finished the job too messily and with no time to spare.

He arrived at the square at 2:59 pm. It was relatively empty, given the time of day – office workers were still at their jobs, and the lunch rush was over. There were few tourists milling about or admiring the statue in the center of the square.

The comm in his ear beeped to life as he moved toward the statue, adjusting the instrument case slung over his shoulder. He subtly unsnapped one of the closures, ready to grab his bow if needed. He felt too exposed; there were too many vantage points from which a sniper could have line of sight on him, and he had already mentally catalogued them all.

“Buenos días, Hanzito,” said Sombra’s teasing voice in his ear. “How nice of you to come a first time.”

“What do you want, Sombra?” he replied, lips moving almost soundlessly. To any passersby he would’ve been admiring the statue as they were.

“To toy with you, of course.”

He ignored her transparent attempt to anger him further. “What is the job you have for me?”

“An easy one this time.”

“This is the last, yes?”

“Tsk. Don’t be so eager to be rid of me. You know you’ve enjoyed our time together.”

His cock twitched in his pants, and he mentally kicked himself for it.

“This square is too open. I would prefer to know a course of action before any attackers appear. Again.”

He circled the statue, headed toward the nearby fountain.

“Go to your safehouse.”

He stopped so suddenly he almost tripped. “What?”

“Oh, keep walking,” Sombra scoffed, and Hanzo obeyed. “Do as I say and go to your safehouse.”

“If there are enemies–”

“There aren’t. But if you don’t get moving, I’ll ensure you make a few more, comprendes?”

Hanzo let his path around the fountain carry him out of the square and down one of the smaller side streets. When it became apparent that he was taking the long way, Sombra laughed.

“Don’t you trust me?” she asked, and Hanzo quickly replied a simple “No.”

“Smart,” she said, still chuckling. He turned down yet another narrow alleyway. “But for once I think you’ll like what I have in store for you.”

When Hanzo was as sure he wasn’t being followed as he was sure he was being watched, he finally climbed the metal steps to his tiny safehouse apartment and let himself in. He latched the door and checked the windows and alarms before lowering the case containing his bow.

When he turned, there was a stranger in the room with him. He had a knife out and at their throat before he could think, blade tucked beneath their chin.

“Been here all along,” they said, raising a hand in a wave that was more a taunting flex of clawed fingers than anything. The greeting echoed in his comm.


She grinned wickedly and looked down at the knife at her throat.

“You going to put your weapon away, or am I going to have to make you?” she teased, voice disorientingly doubled by the comm.

Hanzo lowered his hand, grip still tight on the knife. The stranger – Sombra – had dark skin and bright eyes, hair fading from black to unnatural purple. She wore a black hoodie and skinny jeans, and he realized with a jolt that she’d been one of the tourists in the square.

No one had followed him.

He realized at that moment, more acutely than he had at any point during their game, that she was fucking dangerous.

She lowered her hood and shook her hair out, revealing a series of cybernetic enhancements Hanzo could only guess at the purpose of. She laughed when she caught him staring.

“Oh, you silly arquero,” she purred, raising her hands and projecting an image in the narrow space between them. He took a step back to look at it, and let out a quiet gasp when he saw the images flickering across it. Many of them were rapid-fire shots of people he didn’t recognize, but several of them were of him. One was a live camera feed that appeared to be directly above them – and moving.

Hanzo looked up, but there was nothing there. When he looked back down, the projection was filled with shifting images of his brother. Young, carefree, smiling. Hanzo frowned. Sombra grinned.

“What do you want? I’ve done as you asked.”

“You have,” Sombra agreed. “I was giving you six runs to test you, but let’s be honest.” She lowered her hands, and the projection disappeared. “You’d impressed me enough and done me enough favors by the third time.”

Hanzo found himself torn between outrage and exhaustion, and took an angry step forward.

“Then why–”

She silenced him with a finger on his lips.

“I thought we’d drop the professional association and move on to something a little more physical.”

Hanzo realized, with a jolt, that the doubled echo in his comm had stopped. Her voice was in his ear, because it was in his ear. She was close. He could lean forward and be pressed against her from head to toe.



He swallowed thickly.

“Oh,” he said, lips moving against her finger.

“You can say no,” she said absently, tracing his lips with the tip of a nail. “You did good work. I won’t be releasing any family secrets either way.”

“No to what, precisely?”

She dipped the finger between his lips, nail pressing against his tongue. It sent a spark across his nerves like licking a battery, and he groaned, hips jerking forward involuntarily. The look on Sombra’s face was positively wicked.

“Acting out what I’ve watched you come thinking of,” she replied, and dropped to her knees.

“Oh,” he said again, stupidly.

“Answer me,” she demanded, hands hovering above his waistband. He was achingly hard already, and he knew she could tell when his cock twitched at the command.


“I was hoping you’d say that.”

It didn’t take her long to figure out the ties on his pants, and she had him naked from waist to knees in a matter of seconds. He felt himself flushing under her scrutiny, but any thought of embarrassment fled the moment she wrapped a hand around his dick and smeared pre over the head with her thumb.

“Are you going to be a good boy, or should I let you work it out of your system?” Sombra said, stroking slowly and gripping his thigh with her free hand.

“I… What?” he croaked, then cleared his throat to try again. “Gotten what out of my system?”

“Disobedience,” she replied, meeting his gaze and pressing a kiss to the base of his length. He bucked and whined, and she scraped her nails against his thigh. “See? I know you’ve got a stick too far up your ass to give up control that easily, even if you want it.”

“I have nothing of the sort,” he countered, words completely negated by the way he reached for her hair and stopped short, hands clenching into fists.

“Here’s the deal. You get a semblance of control for a while, and then you lose it completely.”

“That seems–” He found himself at a sudden loss for words as her lips pushed his foreskin back and his cock was surrounded by wet heat.

It had been a long goddamn time.

His hands finished their journey to her hair, fingers weaving in the multicolored strands and brushing against cybernetic enhancements that made his arm tingle all the way to the elbow. He had barely gotten a decent grip when she pulled back with a wet pop and peered up at him through half-open eyes.

“You’re going to fuck my throat,” she said, in a voice that left no room for argument. “And I’m going to let you. Then when you’re being a little less of a pinchazo, I’m going to use you how I like.”

He stared down at her, mouth working soundlessly.

“That’s what I thought,” she purred, opening her mouth and digging her nails deeper into the backs of his thighs. They were sharper than they looked, and Hanzo could’ve sworn she drew blood when she yanked so hard he had to take a stumbling half-step forward to keep balanced.

Midway through the stumble, he felt his self-control melt. It left him in a rush of breath through his nose and a tightening of his fingers in her hair, and he smoothly transitioned the balancing step into a snap of his hips. Sombra choked with the force of the thrust, laughed a rumbling laugh around his length when he mumbled an apology, and swallowed.

The feel of her throat flexing around the head was almost too much too fast, and he pulled back enough to give himself a moment’s reprieve. He was more worked up than he wanted to be. He was exactly as worked up as he wanted to be.

He made another tentative, abortive motion with his hips. She somehow grinned with her mouth full, saliva beginning to drip down her chin.

“Come on, Hanzito, fuck me.” Sombra’s voice was in the comm that was still in his ear; wrecked, breathy, impossible. She was still sucking him off, tongue swirling expertly against the vein on the underside, but her voice was in his ear, and he–

He was hers. He slammed forward at the same moment he pulled her head down, and even though she gagged and dug her nails in hard enough that he felt blood drip down his thighs, she didn’t move away.

He repeated the motion, and god if she didn’t moan while she had the air to. He did it again, and she nosed at the coarse hair at the base of his cock. Again, and she countered it by pushing her face in closer so he could fuck deeper into her throat. By the time he was slamming into her with abandon, slick wet noises and choking moans working their way out around his length, the stream of teasing into his ear through the comm had passed into utterly obscene.

“Fuck, yes, I knew you were a slut, Shimada, filthy puto. You been hoping you’d get to do me? You want me to ride you, make you scream? Or you want me to tie you up and fuck you up the ass?”

He bit back a moan, turned it into a whimper; felt the pressure building fast and hard with every thrust he made into the slick suction of her mouth.

“Sombra,” Hanzo growled, tightening his grip and shoving her face hard into his groin.

Her throat fluttered, and she swallowed around him. A jolt of electricity raced up his arm, spreading out from his fingers against her enhancements just as he felt his orgasm begin to tip over in his stomach and behind his eyes.

“You gonna come for me so I can get to ruining you?”

Sombra’s breathless voice in Hanzo’s ear broke the last minute shred of his self-control, and he came hard, spilling down her throat and nearly collapsing as his vision blacked out.

He slowly dropped back into reality in time to see his softening length slip from her lips. They were swollen and red, and she licked at the saliva coating them as though she’d had a particularly delicious meal.

Sombra cleared her throat, but her voice when she spoke was still scratchy and hoarse.

“Good boy,” she rasped, and removed her hands from Hanzo’s thighs only to swipe at the mess on her chin.

Absently, he realized that not only were her nails tipped with his blood, but he would’ve liked the sight of it if he hadn’t come mere moments before. He let go of her hair and trailed one tingling hand down to brush against hers.

She caught his wrist in her fingers, quick, like a snake striking. In the afterglow of his orgasm, he barely saw her move before she had him in an unexpectedly strong grip.

The look she gave him was hunger. Even still on her knees, he found her more than a little intimidating.

The former Yakuza boss, frightened of a hacker.

No, not frightened.


“Well, Hanzito,” Sombra said, and the words were her own again, the comm in his ear silent. Her grip on his wrist tightened, smearing his own blood across his skin.

“I think it’s time for you to be the one on your knees.”

It didn’t occur to him to disobey.