Request:Could you write a one shot where the reader is a thief and uncle is in charge of tracking her down and figuring out who she works for, but she is an escape artist and ends up getting away with a lot of their stuff?
A/N:Hope you enjoy <3
The cold air nipped at your cheeks, making them a rosy red in the midnight hour. You stood beneath a lamppost, the yellow light making your cheekbones appear sharp and defined. You continued checking your watch, making sure you didn’t stay out of the party for too long. The coat wrapped around tightly around your body provided some warmth as the grey fox fur billowed in the wind.
Such a fashion statement like the coat was affordable because of what you had stolen. Yes, undoubtedly so, you were a thief. Anyone raised in a household of moral would think you had a dirty profession, one that couldn’t even be considered a job. But it paid the bills and even more so, it made you rich.
That’s why three spies had decided to track you down at this party tonight. You knew exactly who they were: Napoleon Solo of the CIA, Illya Kuryakin of the KGB, and Gaby Teller of British Intelligence. They had been following you for weeks and now you knew how to lure them in. The friendly social interaction with a dark-haired man at the bar? Planned. You saw him talking into his radio watch from a mile away.