Nini's brain

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.