Dean Sommers, ex-CIA turned murderer-for-hire. His alias is the Man in the Suit, just ask Safia Crowe

[Mature content role play only, 18+ preferred, tracking tag: DeanSommers, Face Claim: Patrick Wilson]



Bringing the Fight :: @SafiaCrowe 


Safia’s flinch was barely noticeable, she’d spent her whole adult life training to be free of such things as crippling emotions. “The student surpassed the teacher long ago, why do you think he turned against me, a man’s ego cannot take such things as knowing a fair beauty such as myself is so much more than he could ever be.” Safia eyed Dean and smirked. “I make no apologies for the damage I’m inflicting on yours.” Her grin was feral, like that of a wild beast as it toyed with its food.

His current stance was one that threatened to send her mind down other avenues that did not fit with her need to destroy this man who had gotten too close. Even though she would be out of the game after this she could not allow her reputation to be tarnished by letting him live or by dying at his hand. No, death was not coming for her and not at the hands of this desirable man who could have been so much more to her.

“Shall we continue or will you save us both the bruises and offer me your throat?” There was a teasing tone in her voice that seemed very unfamiliar and Safia realised that she was in fact flirting with Dean. How interesting. 

There it was. That slight tick that may have gone unnoticed by most, but not by Dean. That minuscule twitch was enough to let him know that Safia was not as impenetrable as she liked to seem. He thought of a few ways he could penetrate her…

Glass through the eyes, despite it being messy. A sharp blade through the temple. The latter was equally as messy, but in his line of work you had to get messy every now and again.

But that twitch… something about that minute muscle spasm got to him…

Any man would be crazy to not admire Safia. Not the admiration that leads to aspirations and heroism, but the aspiration that creates fantasy. One would be downright insane to not take in her sleek frame, or how he wanted to follow her curves like a road map to an unknown destination. She was muscular, but not in a sickening body builder way. She was toned; fit. Lest Dean forget, she was also undeniably stunning.

Safia’s voice became a murmur in the distant background noise. His eyes settled on hers for a moment, studying what they had to tell about her. He saw pain. No matter how much she tried to disguise it, pain still remained prevalent. 

Next, they roamed to her lips, committing their every plump curve to memory. He drew in a stilted breath in thought of what those lips could do. By now he probably looked like some dazed weirdo as he stared at her. With a few quick blinks he was back to the present, a mere feet away from the only person — and only woman— who could best him.

Her words finally caught up with him, sinking in as she enjoyed her jest. He cocked his head to the side to re-evaluate the situation. In three steps he could have her in a vulnerable state. He didn’t bother with a reply to her. Instead, he bolted behind her, ducking to avoid any strikes she would make. Once behind her, he grabbed her hands with his, lacing their fingers with a tight grip to secure them. swiftly, he crossed their arms over her body, away from reach of any weapons.

His breaths were hot and audible just outside her ear as his heart thudded loudly in his chest. He held her body close to his, enjoying their closeness. He brought his panting lips to her hear, raspily whispering to her. 

"Perhaps it’s you that should yield."

She tensed slightly against him, causing his brows to furrow. He hated that reaction coming from her. Was he second guessing killing her, or even more so, second guessing himself? It was a line o thought that was so foreign to him.

It bothered him.

killercrowe    Safia    Bringing the Fight    

FC    >.>    


Bringing the Fight :: @SafiaCrowe 


It was like watching wild animals, beasts at play as the two moved and circled each other, eyes never leaving each other. Safia found herself licking her lips before she decided to make the first move. It was not an attack but a feint, just to see how well his body moved with the damage she had already inflicted at their last encounter. The knife glanced close to his arm, might have even run through some of the soft hair that ran up it. Safia darted around behind him and spun on the ball of her feet to come back down in a defensive position. 

A smile lit up her face, she did not mind him knowing how much this little play between them pleased her. It was just who she was that this was enjoyable, if it hadn’t been for the fact she owed him pain and death it was the best foreplay she’d had in her life. Her eyes dropped and ran over an old scar over his shoulder and for a moment her mind was filled with the thought of her tongue teasing along it. “You don’t appear to be too slowed down by earlier, I would have hated for this to be over too quick. 

Dean recalled his training and the skills he acquired from the many years of putting them to use. He had scanned every inch of the room as he watched her. He noted every piece of furniture and how many steps it would take to maneuver around them in the case of foul play. Finally, she breached his eyesight again and Dean found a grin in place over his lips. He remembered the closeness of their bodies as they wrestled earlier. How he could have easily flipped her beneath him and taken her. He wasn’t against the thought, still, but the line had been crossed.

His marred flesh still remained exposed for her to see the damage she had inflicted upon him. He anticipated her every move and it didn’t surprise him when she lunged with a knife. Swiftly, he brought his arm up in a blocking gesture as it slid right past, barely skimming him. He gave a half-smirk and lunged forward, rolling across the floor to quickly recover. He held himself in a push up-like stance, his eyes locked on her. “You’re pretty fast for being trained by that mediocre Christian.” He grinned, knowing her wounds from Christian were still fresh. He wanted to pain her in any way he could.

killercrowe    Safia    


Bringing the Fight :: @SafiaCrowe 


Safia was hardly surprised when the power went out. In fact if it hadn’t she might have scolded him, though Mr Sommer’s was not one to follow the book. The tune to which they danced was nearing its crescendo and Safia herself might not have bothered with the power herself, the room would be lit whether by sunlight or street light but it was enough to cast greater shadows and add to the psychological impact.

Safia stretched as she waited for Dean, no sense pulling something and dealing with that discomfort after. She heard him on the stairs approaching and she knew he was making no effort to hide his ascent. They were beyond that now. She barely even looked up as he entered. Instead she smirked knowing his eyes would roam her form as she continued stretching, bending…

Finally she stood and turned to face him again. She had a throwing knife in her left hand, nestled between her fingers, barely noticeable. But she didn’t throw it, it seemed unprofessional to simply flick the blade into this throat, hardly fun.

“Would you like me to give you a moment to warm up, old man.” Safia’s flicked down his body, the lighting flattered the taut muscular frame and Safia could imagine a very different reason to launch forward and pin him down. It was a pity he would have to die without them enjoying the moment, Safia had never met a man who matched her professionally and she was ashamed to say she could imagine in vivid detail how well he might match her personally. “I’m happy to give you a sporting chance.” She grinned and stepped closer to him, she was ready to begin. 

Dean kept his stroll casual as he walked through the halls of the motel. The occasional guest popped their head out of their room in wonder of why the power had gone. He whistled Twisted Nerve in the most delighted of spirits as he walked, finding it to be the most applicable tune to set the mood. 

His skills has served him nicely over the years. Just by listening to Safia, catching a slight glimpse of her, he found her exact room easily. He took a breath before opening the door to the room swiftly to find a limber Safia preparing herself for the fight. 

Warm up? I’m still going from earlier, sweetheart.”  He grinned. He would be lying if he said his eyes hadn’t roamed over her frame, admiring every curve, the stretch of legs and how she looked in the dimmed room. It was a very fleeting few seconds before he was brought back to the present. His scarred flesh remained visible to show her what she had done, her handiwork. 

Dean kept calm as he took a few steps towards her, assessing his opponent in battle. He may not have saw the throwing knife, but he did find something else of interest. Something he could use towards his advantage. He smirked as he took one last step, eyes finding hers. "I have all the luck in the world right now. I wish I could say the same for you."


Jesus, Crowe…

Jesus, Crowe…

*growls, wanting to smooth my hands up those stockings and dip beneath that dress*

*growls, wanting to smooth my hands up those stockings and dip beneath that dress*




40 Hot Men in Their 40s: 
Patrick Wilson [7/40]



Bringing the fight @SafiaCrowe 



"Sugar, they couldn’t find your hard on with the strongest magnifier." Safia smirked as he stood, she was hardly surprised when he started in her direction, she wasn’t hiding or she would have done more to mute the call. He was good, he was very good, the best she had ever faced, the only one who had ever challenged her, who ever gave something back…he was the first one to change the game. 

She listened as he moved onto the balcony, still looking in her direction as he turned on the dramatics. Safia actually laughed. “I didn’t know you were such a prima donna, Sugar. You waiting for the applause” She moved, she knew he’d notice the shadow cross over the window.  She had no desire at all to shoot him, where was the fun in that, where was the challenge. “You gonna put one in me, instead, or maybe even shoot me?” She smirked, pausing in his line of sight, her silhouette clear against the thin curtain. “Or do you want to come over here and end this.”

Safia pulled back the curtain on the room across from him, she looked him right in the eyes and her stomach lurched with nerves. It stunned her to have some kind of reaction like that to this man…she did not react so personally to any event, any person, but suddenly staring at him, flirting with death and danger she imagined sharing a passionate moment with him. He made her grit her teeth and square her shoulders. He should be so lucky. “I’m right here, baby. Wanna show me what you’re made of, or are you ready to just roll over and admit defeat.”   

The murmur of Safia’s voice on the phone as he held it out was faint. He was focused more on what was going on inside of that room. He sat in a dangerous position. He could wait for her to blast him away from the earth, or he could see what time would buy him. Certain words became clearer to him as she spoke, causing his eyebrow to perk. He dropped his head to look towards her location again, spotting the curtain vlinb open to expose her fully. 

Their eyes met across the expanse of land. Dean’s lips turned upward in a most obvious smirk, putting it on display for her. She stood tall, an attempt to intimidate him, no doubt. He lifted only the receiving end of his phone near his mouth, speaking clearly, each word crisp. “On my way.”

He ended the call with her, still staring into the window at her. A body taut with muscle and curves. A beautiful face to accompany a perfect physique. Dean tutted quietly to himself, knowing it would be such a shame to waste such a body, face and talent. He could surely teach her his methods, but she had already crossed the line and now he had to terminate her.

He left the balcony after he shot a lingering stare at her, not bothering to dress himself. His prized piece sat disassembled on the table, not bothering to take it. He wanted to end her with his own hands. It may have been a stupid move to not bring protection, but it was certainly a bold one. 

He took nothing. The looks he received as he left the hotel in nothing but a pair of tattered slacks that he had worn previously in his tango with Safia. He slithered his hands into his pockets as he casually glanced around, whistling an upbeat, happy tune while passing through the lobby and out into the streets. He neared the motel, making a slight detour as he neared the back of the building. It wasn’t hard to find the electrical box and fuse box, opening the metal door to the entire set. He grinned as he began plucking fuses and flipping levers, hearing the power outage begin. Just to seal the deal, he pulled his hand back, fingers curling into a hard fist before slamming it into the box, rendering it to the point of that the fuses could not be placed back inside. 

He continued his whistling as he shook the blood from his hand and entered the back door of the motel. 

Bringing the Fight    Safia    
Stop teasing me, @SafiaCrowe.

Stop teasing me, @SafiaCrowe.



Bringing the fight @Dean_Sommers  



Safia almost snorted as she watched Dean through the disconnected scope. Did he think her so naive that she would disregard a dissembled gun in that hands of a professional. She knew how quickly she could reassemble her favourite piece, and instinct said that it would be his favoured weapon that he had laid out before him as he affected such an air of indifference and relaxed. He wasn’t unarmed at all…..he was raising the stakes of the game that they were playing, trying to make it a bit more fun, test Safia and see what she was made of. 

Safia slipped the ear piece into her ear, the scope still at her eye as she watched him, watched the little movements of his body that told her that it was all a ruse, he was alert and he was reading, he was waiting for her. She could have easily taken him out right now, double tap to the head before he even started to react but that seemed wrong, cowardly, disrespectful…for some reason she had some measure of respect for the man, and undoubtedly for his skill. 

She licked her lips and for a moment she recalled the way he had returned her kiss, the fierceness of it. She recalled the taunts that they had shared and she wondered at the bravado of his claims, perhaps it was not all just talk. Too bad she would never discover the truth of those…skills.

She hit call on the cellphone, knowing he’d still have his, knowing he was cocky enough for it. 

"Hello, Sugar. Still fantasising about me?" She had a light teasing tone to her voice and had no doubt that he would easily detect the real smile on her lips. He brought something out in her. It seemed she was not only ice and her training on the inside like she had assumed for so long. 

His voice was dry with sarcasm as he spoke into the receiver of his cell phone, Safia’s voice ringing in his ears. “Yes, they could see this hardon from space, don’t you know?” His eyes traversed the room as his trained ears were in-tune to any noises that existed in the background of the call. Years of devotion to the FBI had taught him many things. Direction, location. He could tell the general area of someone from the rustling of the wind. 

He focused hard on anything that could give him her location, and surely it happened. The car horn of someone passing by her caused Dean’s head to turn, staring out the window, undoubtedly at her. His smile spread, cocky and thick. “Miss me much, Crowe?” He stood, remaining stoic from his injury, walking out to the balcony again to lean against it once more. He wanted to have this conversation face-to-face, so to speak. His eyes scanned for anything that could give a definitive location on her, not that he needed it. 

"Go ahead," he taunted her with a smirk, "Shoot me. Shoot me dead right now and end your troubles." He pulled the phone from his ear, extending his arms out to his sides in the air to give her a clear shot, shouting out into the air. "I’M ALL YOURS!"

He cast his eyes to the sky, waiting for anything to happen.

Safia    Bringing The Fight