julia

His breath was short, he truly gave all he had to please you. You loved to dominate him. In this world of violence and ruled by war, it was strangely exciting to have a man under your orders. Meeting Thorfinn was the best thing that happened in your slave life. 

-Don’t you dare come in me, you warned him. I wanna be the one who finish you. 

Thorfinn fought against himself not to come, and managed it. 

-I won’t, I promise. Can I just give the orgasm I would like to give you ? I can’t wait to feel you tense around me… Please… 

You didn’t answer, but you teased him more by grabbing his ponytail to reverse his head a little so you can fully lick and kiss his neck. You felt him shiver. 

-Control yourself, you ordered. Control yourself but please, keep going… I’m gonna come…

Your orgasm striked you and as usual, you congratulated your boy with a passionate kiss. His moan made you melt. 

-Thank you, baby, you whispered. Good boy. 

Thorfinn blushed a lot - he always did when you called him a good boy. 

-Do you want your reward ? you asked, knowing the answer.  -Please, my beauty. Give it to me. 

You pretended to think before making a decision. 

-Fine. Just lay next to me, I’ll give you head. 

Thorfinn obeyed. His muscled body was full of tension. You thought that maybe after the session, you would massage him. Poor little boy. 

You started licking his length, then swallowed it with all the pressure you were capable of. When you gave a reward, it was a real one. Thorfinn let go a long sigh. Your gaze met his and as the good slave he was, he didn’t dare to look you in the eyes too much. 

You accelerated the rhythm, feeling the tension in his cock. Blood was pulsing all along. You spit on and then jerked it. 

-Oh my god ! Thorfinn whimpered by covering his face with his hands. That just feels so good. Thank you, my beauty, thank you… 

You received his cum in your mouth, and before swallowing it, crawling to Thorfinn’s face. He knew what was coming to him, and took it gladly. He loved to share everything with you. He slowly opened his mouth and put out his tongue, so you could spit his proper cum in. It was so hot to watch. You couldn’t resist giving him another order. 

-Swallow it, you ordered. Don’t lose a single drop. 

He nodded and you saw his seeds going by his throat. 

-That’s my good boy. Come here. 

You put your hand in Thorfinn’s, and your fingers interlaced lovely. You loved his contact. In fact, you just loved all of him. 

-Was it good ? you asked.  -Yes, he answered honestly. I particularly liked the last part - even if the taste isn’t so good -, the way your eyes were on me when I took it… That was amazing, babe. 

You slowly started to massage him. Now the sex was over, you too went back to your everyday relationship : an ordinary couple of slaves. 

-You’re so tense, you noticed by rubbing his large shoulders covered by scars. 

How can he be this sexy ? you thought. 

You froze, senses accelerating as your fingertips grazed the slender blade tucked against your forearm. Someone else was here, possibly another hired gun with the same grisly orders. But those prints were too perfect, too controlled to be some amateur's clumsy work.

No...you knew that purposeful, predatory tread all too well.

The bathroom door's lock clicked open and you whirled, weapon drawn, as a tall figure slipped inside. Even in the dimness, those reflective dark eyes and long raven hair were achingly familiar...and dangerous.

"You..." you hissed lowly.

Illumi regarded you coolly, utterly unfazed by having a knife leveled inches from his chest. Of course he wouldn't flinch - you'd never seen this man throw an assassin so much as blink, let alone show fear.

"We seem to have been hired for the same contract," he said flatly, not a hint of inflection.

Your jaw clenched as the two of you stared each other down. Of all the elite assassins spanning the globe, you had to cross paths with Illumi Zoldyck on this job. The one killer whose skills, whose ruthless reputation, could potentially rival your own.

And the one man who, despite yourself, you could feel an electric, unsettling charge sizzling between...

Illumi's obsidian eyes remained carefully impassive as they raked over you. You couldn't tell if he sensed that same crackling tension or if he simply viewed you as another obstacle to circumvent on this assignment. Knowing Illumi's icy detachment, it was likely the latter.

"I don't share contracts," you stated firmly, keeping your blade leveled. "Especially not with you."

"How unfortunate," Illumi murmured in that maddeningly even tone. "Because I've no intention of walking away from this job. Or you."

A tremor ran through you at those last two words, quiet but weighted with Something you couldn't let yourself dwell on. You were the best at what you did, same as Illumi, and neither of you became so lethally elite by allowing distractions.

And yet...you couldn't ignore the way your breath grew shallower, how the air seemed to thicken and churn with that inscrutable energy passing between your bodies. This wasn't going to be as straightforward as you'd planned.

Desperate to regain your composure, you aimed for nonchalance - the only way to get under Illumi's perspicacious stare. Deliberately, you dragged your gaze over his lean frame in an appreciative once-over.

"My, my..." You tsked, allowing a teasing lilt to enter your tone. "No wonder you're so sought after in our line of work. That lithe form seems perfectly suited for stealth...among other intriguing applications."

You watched with no small amount of satisfaction as Illumi's jaw tightened near-imperceptibly at your suggestive words. Score one for actually getting a reaction.

"You're incorrigible," he stated flatly. "And severely lacking in professionalism on the job."

"Oh lighten up, you know how to have a little fun, don't you?" You took a deliberate step closer, watching Illumi tense ever-so-slightly as you invaded his personal space. "Unless cold...unfeeling...killer is simply your natural state?"

Your heated words seemed to spark something deep behind those unfathomable dark eyes. A fleeting glimmer of emotion - irritation, attraction, you couldn't tell. But it was there, buried under icy layers of ruthless control.

"Fun..." Illumi echoed the word like it tasted foreign on his tongue. His piercing stare remained locked on you. "I'm beginning to think your definition of that differs greatly from mine."

"Is that so?" You clicked your tongue in faux disappointment. "Well then, maybe you'll have to show me your version instead. Could be...enlightening."

The heated undercurrent between you was becoming unmistakable now, no matter how steadfastly Illumi tried to remain impassive. He was an impregnable fortress, to be sure. But you were an expert at cracking even the most stubborn defenses.

And you had a feeling once you wormed your way inside Illumi's walls, you'd find something exquisitely, savagely intriguing lying in wait.

Illumi's gaze remained inscrutable as it raked over you appraisingly. "Your attempts at seduction are transparently amateur at best. I expected more from someone of your...reputation."

You barked out a laugh at his cutting remark. "Is that a challenge I detect, Mr. Zoldyck? Because you're playing a very dangerous game, trying to provoke me like that."

"I don't do games," Illumi stated coolly. "I deal in absolutes, in realities. And the reality is that only one of us will be completing this contract tonight."

He closed the distance between you in a few measured strides, his imposing frame now looming mere inches away. From this proximity, you could make out the faintest ethereal scent of sandalwood and steel clinging to him. It was utterly intoxicating.

"So I'll ask you once more," Illumi's words were lethally soft. "Will you walk away willingly? Or am I forced to make you..."

The unspoken threat hung heavy in the charged air. You knew Illumi was utterly capable of neutralizing you here and now if he deemed it necessary. The fact that he seemed to be offering you an out, however slim, was...curious.

Unable to resist pushing further, you tilted your head in a studiously nonchalant manner. "You know...if you wanted me on my back, you could have simply asked nicely."

A heartbeat of loaded silence passed. Then another. Illumi's expression remained that maddening blank slate, not rising to your deliberately crass implication even as the tension thickened palpably.

Just when you were about to goad him again, the faintest of smirks played across those soft lips.

"There's that lack of professionalism again," he murmured. "Though I can't decide if it's merely incessant or...intriguing."

Your breath hitched slightly at the undercurrent beneath those words. Was the infamous Illumi Zoldyck, cold-blooded killer extraordinaire, actually flirting with you?

Recovering quickly, you leaned in until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his. Close enough to feel his exhales ghosting across your skin in tantalizing puffs.

"Why don't you get a little closer and find out?"

Illumi didn't so much as flinch at your brazen advance. His dark, fathomless gaze remained locked with yours as one corner of his mouth curved upwards in a maddening half-smirk. "Tempting...but I'll have to decline. At least for now."

Before you could process his words, he moved with blurring speed. One moment he was mere inches away, the next his muscular frame was pressed flush against yours, backing you up until your spine met the wall with a soft thump.

Illumi braced one hand beside your head, effectively caging you in with his body as he leaned down. Those slightly parted lips brushed a scorching path maddeningly close to your own before veering aside at the last moment. Instead, you felt the barest whisper of breath fanning along the heated skin of your neck.

"I do hope you'll make this interesting for me," he all but purred, voice dipped in something sinfully dark. "I'd hate to be...underwhelmed by your skills so early in our...partnership."

A tremor ran through you at the implication in that last word. Despite his impassive facade, there was no mistaking the molten undercurrent flickering behind Illumi's eyes now. You'd sparked something primal awake in the infamous assassin, something he clearly didn't experience often.

And a reckless part of you couldn't wait to stoke those smoldering embers into an inferno.

Regaining your composure, you arched a challenging brow. "Oh, don't you worry about me keeping things interesting," you practically purred. "In fact, I promise to take your breath away before the night is over."

Illumi regarded you with an inscrutable look for a heavy beat, as if weighing your brazen promise. Then, in one sinuous motion, he stepped back and put a calculated sliver of space between your bodies once more.

"We'll see about that," he stated evenly, though you didn't miss the faint huskiness edging his inflection now. "For the moment, I suggest we return our focus to the task at hand."

You fought not to visibly react as Illumi gestured towards the door leading to the mark's penthouse suite. As if either of you could so easily disengage from the potent tension still crackling between you like a livewire.

Nodding once, you forced yourself to slip back into professional mindset, sheathing your blade with a practiced flick of your wrist. "Lead the way then. I'll be right behind you."

The words carried a deliberate double meaning that wasn't lost on Illumi if his momentary side-eye was any indication. Still, he turned on his heel and started down the hallway without another word.

As you fell into step behind the assassin, you allowed your gaze to linger appreciatively on the powerful shoulders beneath his fitted suit, the lithely coiled muscles in his arms and back that you knew all too well could snap a man's neck with grotesque ease. There was an undeniable, unsettling allure to Illumi's lethal grace.

You couldn't quite put your finger on what had changed between the two of you in these past heated moments. The razor-edged chemistry had been lurking for months, years even, every time your jobs brought you into the other's orbit. but tonight that simmering tension had suddenly been stoked into roaring life, quickly spiraling out of control.

And despite the small, rational voice warning this was a reckless game to play with as elite a killer as Illumi Zoldyck...you couldn't shake the feeling that you were both helplessly, inexorably, caught up in the thrilling inferno.

Reaching the mark's private entrance, Illumi paused and slanted you a weighted look over one shoulder. A silent challenge glimmered in those midnight depths.

Game on then.

Lifting your chin boldly, you brushed past him and took the lead, making sure your body grazed his with deliberate suggestion as you did so. You heard his soft intake of breath behind you and hid a smile.

Let the games begin.

With Illumi trailing slightly behind, you took point and stealthily picked the lock to the penthouse entrance. Normally a task like this would require your full, focused concentration. But with your senses tantalizingly attuned to the silent predator shadowing your every move, you found your mind wandering.

What game was Illumi playing at? This wasn't his usual cold, detached modus operandi when handling contracted hits. No, there was an undeniable spark flickering behind that unreadable facade now. A banked sort of heat smoldering in those obsidian eyes whenever they raked over you with pointed intent.

You risked a glance over your shoulder. Sure enough, Illumi's piercing gaze was trained squarely on the curve of your backside as you bent over the lock mechanism. Not even attempting subtlety anymore, was he?

Unable to resist prodding that newfound fire, you made a show of slowly rising back to your full height and stretching your arms overhead with an exaggerated breath. Your shirt riding up just enough to expose a taunting strip of toned midriff.

The loaded moment stretched between you before Illumi finally spoke, voice raspier than usual. "If you're quite finished delaying..."

You turned with an innocent look. "Why, whatever do you mean? I'm simply preparing myself for the challenge ahead."

Holding his stare, you traced a deliberate fingertip down the valley between your breasts, letting it trail down your abdomen slowly before dropping your hand. "Gotta stay...limber."

Illumi's jaw tensed infinitesimally but he remained otherwise impassive as always. "Your attempts at distraction are obvious. And fruitless. I don't lose focus so easily."

"Is that so?" You arched one brow teasingly before spinning back towards the door and finall finishing your work on the lock tumblers. "We'll see about that."

The pneumatic hiss of the door unsealing echoed like a sly promise. Slipping inside the darkened penthouse, you felt the frisson of Illumi's tall frame entering behind you with predatory grace.

The game was most definitely afoot now. You couldn't wait to see who would be declared the winner once all the players' simmering desires were finally, deliciously sated.

The penthouse suite was cloaked in inky shadows, though both you and Illumi could navigate the darkness with preternatural ease. Silently, you swept through the grandiose living area, senses attuned to any potential security triggers or signs of the mark's whereabouts.

A slight shift of air current against your back alerted you to Illumi's stealthy approach from behind. You tensed instinctively as his presence materialized at your side, so close you could feel the subtle body heat rolling off him in waves.

"He's not here," Illumi murmured, low enough that his warm breath fanned along the sensitive skin of your neck. "The bedroom."

You refused to allow his intentional proximity to rattle you, squaring your shoulders. "After you then."

Illumi's lips quirked in a near-imperceptible smirk before he brushed past you purposefully. You had to resist the urge to shiver as the movement brought your bodies into fleeting alignment, front to back. Just for a moment, you could have sworn you felt the barest graze of his fingertips trailing along your hip.

Get a grip, you chided yourself. He's just trying to throw you off your game again.

Although...if that was indeed Illumi's aim, you had to grudgingly admit it was working. Being this close to the enigmatic assassin's raw, coiled power set your nerves pleasantly buzzing with a strange sort of static charge. Like you were a live wire just waiting to surge into blinding arc of current given the right spark.

Shaking off the tingling distraction, you followed Illumi down the hall towards the bedroom. You both moved with the same unhurried yet purposeful hunter's stride, bodies gliding in a strange tandem sync. Like two cosmic bodies pulled into an ever-tightening orbit, unable to resist the other's inescapable pull.

The smoldering tension thrummed steadily between you with each measured footfall. More heated and palpable by the second as your blood sang in rising anticipation.

Whatever happened once you reached your destination tonight, one thing was becoming undeniably clear - neither of your lives would be the same after.

To your surprise, the bedroom door was left slightly ajar and a thin slice of amber lamplight spilled out from within. Illumi slowed imperceptibly before easing up beside it, flattening himself to the wall as he angled his body to peer cautiously through the opening.

When his gaze cut sharply back in your direction a beat later, the fire glimmering there caused a shiver of awareness to lick straight down your spine.

Beckoning you over with one subtle hand gesture, Illumi then tilted his chin towards the bedroom in a silent directive for you to take a look as well.

You swallowed hard before moving to slip in behind his formidable frame. Despite yourself, your pulse kicked up several notches as you leaned past Illumi, basking in his masculine scent - a dizzying combination of adrenaline and some smoky spice that ignited liquid heat low in your belly...

Forcing your mind to focus, you peered through the gap and felt your breath catch in your throat at the scene within.

The mark was indeed present. And he most definitely was not alone.

The bedroom was awash in flickering amber light from the fireplace, casting the two figures tangled amidst the rumpled sheets in a sultry warm glow. The businessman you'd both been hired to eliminate was very much alive and obliviously preoccupied...thoroughly engaged in intimate activities with a scantily clad woman.

You felt Illumi shift minutely behind you as he too registered the unexpectedly compromising scene. The heat of his firm chest pressed fractionally closer along the line of your back until you could almost feel the measured cadence of his breaths ghosting the nape of your neck. The intimate proximity made your pulse spike deliciously.

"Well..." you murmured, keeping your voice a hushed whisper meant only for Illumi's ears. "This certainly complicates matters."

"Does it?" came his silken response, his mouth now so tantalizingly close that his lips very nearly grazed the sensitive shell of your ear with each syllable. "I was under the impression you...preferred things deliciously complicated, my dear."

A shiver traced your spine at the velvety endearment, at the way his inflection caressed those last two words. You risked a glance over your shoulder to find Illumi's gaze locked on you with banked intensity, those dark obsidian depths flickering like the flames in the other room.

Unable to resist a little prodding, you arched one brow at him teasingly. "Why Illumi...are you suggesting we take notes on their...technique?"

A loaded pause. Then finally, the barest ghost of a smirk curved those soft lips as Illumi leaned in fractionally closer until the two of you were sharing the same heated breath between parted mouths.

"Only if you think you can keep up," he murmured, rich voice dipping into a low, gravelly register that flooded your veins with liquid fire. "After all, I'd hate to...overwhelm you before we've even really gotten started."

Despite the bravado, his dark gaze remained trained intently on your face, watching, searching for any flicker of reaction to his boldly suggestive words. Seeking out that first fissure where he could apply calculated pressure and finally shatter your meticulously maintained control.

Well...two could most definitely play at that game.

With slow, exaggerated intent, you brushed back the silken lock of hair that had slipped over Illumi's forehead until your fingertips were cradling the strong angle of his jaw. Feeling his muscles twitch ever so slightly beneath your touch as his gaze morphed into smoky embers.

"I thought you'd never ask," you practically purred, allowing your lips to graze the barest whisper along the stubbled hinge of that chiseled jaw as you spoke. Close enough to taste the heated tang of his skin on your tongue. "Lead the way then, Mr. Zoldyck. And do try to keep up with me."

For one electric moment caught in crystal suspension, Illumi looked very much like he was considering simply slamming you back against the nearest surface and finally slaking the ravenous want blazing between you.

Then, like the steady click of a reloaded round sliding into chamber, his impenetrable mask of control descended once more. Not quite banked...but stoked into a raging, unholy inferno blazing behind those unfathomable dark eyes.

"Perhaps another time," he rasped in a tone that could have scored steel. "We have a job to complete."

With immense force of will, you managed to tear your eyes away from the molten promise simmering in Illumi's gaze. Turning your attention back towards the bedroom, you attempted to refocus on the mission at hand despite the thundering of your pulse.

The mark was still entangled with his female companion, utterly oblivious to the two elite assassins lurking just outside. Their breathless cries and the rhythmic creaking of the bedframe provided a perversely intimate soundtrack that only stoked the banked embers flickering between you and Illumi.

You were vividly aware of the assassin's powerful frame pressed along the line of your backside as you both watched the couple's wanton movements through the cracked doorway. So close, in fact, that you could feel the scorching path of his eyes boring into your body as he drank in every minute reaction.

Despite the fire simmering low in your belly, you couldn't resist one last heated provocation.

Keeping your voice a hushed whisper, you murmured just loudly enough for Illumi's ears alone, "You know...they don't seem to be lacking inspiration at the moment."

You felt the subtle hitch of his breath against your nape at the words, savoring your small victory with no small amount of satisfaction. The upper hand was yours again...for now at least.

"However," you continued, deliberately allowing your hips to cant back fractionally until they brushed against Illumi in suggestion. "If you feel you need more...hands-on education before we proceed, I'm certainly amenable to providing it."

This time there was no mistaking the rasping exhale that spilled from between Illumi's lips, hot and harsh against your sensitized skin. You fought not to shiver at the banked lust given voice in those airless syllables.

"Keep pushing me," he all but growled, the low timbre seeming to vibrate straight through your bones. "And you may get more of an...education than you bargained for, little assassin."

The heated endearment twisted like a brand straight to your core. Your back arched instinctively, pressing your body flush against Illumi's powerful frame before you regained control. But it was too late - the damage had already been wrought.

Illumi dipped his head until his mouth hovered a hairsbreadth from the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breaths fanning torrid patterns of promise along your heated skin. When he spoke again, the words seemed to sear you to your very marrow.

"The real question is...are you finally ready to stop playing games and give in to this?" One calloused finger traced a scorching path down your bodice until it reached the lush swell of your breasts. " Because I promise you, once that line is crossed, there'll be no going back."

In that breathless moment of shared hunger, the rest of the world seemed to fall away until there was nothing else but the two of you. Adversaries, allies, would-be lovers hovering on the exquisite precipice of the inevitable. A yawning chasm of uncharted rapture beckoned just beyond that razor's thin line.

All it would take was one of you finally gathering the courage to let go and leap into the howling abyss. To see where these shuddering tremors of desire ultimately led when allowed to detonate their full, cataclysmic force.

Who would be the one to finally summon the will to take that first step over the edge?

The heated tension thrummed like a livewire between your bodies as you stared one another down through the cracked bedroom door. Illumi's piercing gaze seemed to burn straight through you, sparking liquid fire in your veins and stoking the deepening ache low in your belly.

This had gone far enough. If you didn't act soon, there was no telling how much further this delirious game of provocations could escalate before one of you inevitably combusted.

Squaring your shoulders, you forced your expression into one of taunting nonchalance despite your rabbiting pulse. "Well? Are we going to keep wasting time out here gawking? Or are you finally ready to make your move, assassin?"

A muscle ticked in Illumi's taut jaw as his stare remained unwaveringly intense. You could have sworn his pupils blew wider at your heated challenge. Then, so fast you barely registered the movement, he was on you.

One moment he was a hairsbreadth away, the next your back collided with the wall in a harsh thump. Illumi's powerful frame caged you in as he braced one forearm beside your head, effectively pinning you in place with the hard lines of his body.

"My move?" His voice was little more than a low, gravel-laced rasp against the heated hollow below your ear. "I'm waiting for you to stop playing coy and take what you really want..."

The taunt hung heavy between you, igniting sparks of liquid fire wherever Illumi's body brushed against yours with his slowly decreasing restraint. You could feel the restrained power thrumming through those coiled muscles, the barely leashed predator straining against the final tatters of its restraint.

This was it then. The tipping point where one of you would finally have to take that first, irrevocable plunge and allow the tenuous threads binding you to unravel.

Part of you thrilled at the inevitability of it, at the forbidden knowledge of how utterly incandescent that long-banked inferno would blaze once stoked into full, blinding life. While another part still whispered urgent warnings about the reckless road you were careening towards.

With Illumi pinning you in place and those dark eyes burning molten promise, it would be all too easy to let your resistance finally shatter. To reach out with both hands and pull that lithe, powerful frame against yours while giving in to the howling demands of your body.

To simply let go and allowed yourself to be consumed by the all-encompassing maelstrom.

But you were no helpless victim to your urges - you were a master of discipline, just like Illumi. Which meant you still had one final game to play.

Summoning every last vestrige of your rapidly deteriorating control, you slid your palms up the lacquered plane of Illumi's chest until they came to rest at the juncture of his throat. Letting your fingers brush torrid patterns along the thundering pulse you found there as you tilted your chin up in blatant defiance.

"What I want..." you breathed, allowing your lips to graze Illumi's with slow, searing intent. "Is for you to move out of my way so I can finish this job and collect my payment. All this delicious tension between us is doing nothing except distracting us both."

The barest fractional widening of Illumi's eyes indicated you'd scored a direct hit. Sensing your window of opportunity, you dropped one hand and allowed your fingertips to trace a scorching path down the taut ridges of his abdomen.

"Unless..." You punctuated the hushed whisper by pressing your palm firmly against the rapidly hardening bulge straining against Illumi's tailored slacks. "You'd like me to take care of this distraction for you first?"

For an electric seconds-lasted-eternity heartbeat, Illumi seemed to simply stop breathing altogether. His entire frame went terribly, utterly still apart from the subtle tic working his clenched jaw.

Then finally, after what felt like a small eternity had elapsed between you, he exhaled a single rough syllable. "...Vixen."

The word seemed to reverberate through you both with the distant promise of repercussions.

Your palm pressed firmly against the bulge in Illumi's slacks, allowing your fingers to brush tantalizingly as you murmured your heated challenge. For a suspended heartbeat, muscle ticked in the assassin's chiseled jaw as his obsidian gaze burned into you with molten intensity.

Then, so fast your lashes barely had time to part, Illumi's head dipped and his mouth crashed against yours in a searing, possessive kiss.

You gasped at the white-hot contact, allowing Illumi to deepen the liplock as one calloused hand fisted in your hair to angle your head. His other palm splayed scorchingly against the small of your back, pulling your bodies into rapturous alignment from chest to hip.

The world seemed to burn away until there was nothing but the exquisite friction of his firm planes melding with your softer curves. The dual infernos of your desire stoked higher and hotter with each harsh pants of shared breath and duel of roving tongues.

This was the precipice you'd been hovering over since first laying eyes on the enigmatic Illumi Zoldyck. The point of no return where control finally shredded and allowed your most vibrant urges to detonate into blinding supernova.

Except...you weren't quite ready to plunge over that edge into the abyss. Not yet.

Reaching deep for your last tattered remnants of focus, you allowed one hand to slink down Illumi's powerful backside. Your fingers brushed over the unmistakable shape of his concealed blade, causing the muscles there to twitch in anticipation.

Then, before he could process your gambit, you seized the hilt and wrenched the curved karambit free in one deft motion. Reversing your grip, you shoved hard against Illumi's chest and broke the heated clash of your bodies before whipping the blade up in alusty arc towards the bedroom.

His dark eyes blown wide in a mixture of disbelief and fiery approval as the weapon left a blurring contrail...straight towards the obliviously intertwined figures within.

There was a meaty thunk of impact followed by a truncated scream. But your focus had already shifted to the wide-eyed gape frozen on Illumi's patrician features, savoring every last micro-expression of his disarmed shock.

"Looks like I'll be the one collecting payment tonight after all," you murmured softly before turning on your heel and disappearing into the night.

After all, a girl had to keep her skills...polished for whatever came next.

In the weeks and months following your boldly audacious move against Illumi that night, your paths continued criss-crossing at an uncanny rate. Whether by design or some cruel twist of fate, it seemed the two of you were forever being hired to eliminate the same high-profile targets across the shadowy criminal underworld.

At first, your motivations for one-upping the other revolved solely around claiming the biggest payouts and cinching another notch on your respective body counts. The lucrative assassination contracts became an intense competition - a lethal game of one-upmanship between two masters vying for the same coveted prizes.

Your encounters started taking on an increasingly heated edge as the rivalry escalated. Cat-and-mouse games of sabotage, calculated attempts to undermine each other's efforts or eliminate the other from the playing field entirely. All bets were off when it came to claiming victory over your newfound nemesis.

And yet...you couldn't ignore the persistent, erotic tension that continued simmering like a banked fire no matter how viciously you clashed. The memory of Illumi's powerful frame pinning yours, the lingering phantom burn of his mouth branding your skin indelibly, remained burned into your psyche. Stoking the very embers that should have cooled after that first encounter.

Because despite the underhanded tactics, despite the barbed taunts and bristling antagonism, there was no mistaking the fire that flickered to lurid life in Illumi's lethal gaze whenever you were in proximity. You recognized the look, the molten promise that stormed behind those darkly impenetrable eyes.

This was more than just an intense competition between two elite assassins constantly trying to outmaneuver the other. No, this was a gauntlet thrown - a searing challenge issued between two all-too-willing players itching to dive back into the deliciously torrid inferno ignited that first explosive night.

A breathtaking game of carnal provocation and simmering want layered atop the dangerous, high-stakes duels to see who could claim the biggest prize. Who would ultimately emerge the victor didn't matter nearly as much as getting to sate the scorching need both of you were becoming hopelessly addicted to.

So the chase continued with escalating fervor, leading to increasingly bold displays of sabotage. Like the gala you infiltrated to take out a marks, only to have Illumi materialize like a specter in your periphery. One minute you were setting the kill stage, the next he was looming over you from behind, long fingers snaring your wrist to stay the killing blow as his lips brushed the brimming pulse at your throat.

"Going somewhere...little assassin?" came the dark purr laced with equal parts promise and provocation.

And just like that, the game was afoot once more. The renewed sparks of your heated rivalry fanned into a roaring blaze as you twisted in his steely grasp and lashed out in a vicious return strike. Driving Illumi back in a flurry of grappling limbs and hastily drawn blades as the sounds of the opulent party raged on in mocking ignorance just beyond the curtained alcove.

"I could ask you the same thing," you managed to grit out as the two of you traded blows. Each parry and riposte igniting fresh embers until it was impossible to tell whether your rapidly spiking pulses stemmed from the violence of battle...or something infinitely more primal drawing you both in like cosmic bodies caught in the other's irresistible orbit.

It was only a matter of time before one of your cataclysmic collisions saw that banked fire finally detonating into a conflagration that would consume you both utterly.

The real question was - would either of you have the strength of will to walk away from those searing ashes once the smoke finally cleared?

The intense game of one-upmanship and provocation continued escalating between you and Illumi over the next string of overlapping contracts. Cat-and-mouse games of sabotage and thwarting each other's efforts descended into something far more perilous - a high-stakes, high-adrenaline gauntlet fueled by simmering desire.

You couldn't deny the molten promise that flared white-hot in Illumi's obsidian stare every time your bodies moved through that dangerous danse macabre. The controlled violence of your clashing forms seeming to exist on some higher, erotically-charged plane with rules all its own.

One job saw the two of you grappling viciously in the shadows of an opulent wine cellar, blades whirring in feinting arcs. Heated breaths mingled as you strained against Illumi's powerful frame for dominance, chests heaving in exquisite exertion.

"Getting sloppy, little assassin?" he rasped against the sweat-slicked curve of your neck as one calloused palm pinned your wrist with bruising force. "How terribly...undisciplined."

You snarled wordlessly and managed to wrench partially free, whipping your knee up towards his abdomen. Illumi twisted fluidly at the last second, avoiding the blow but leaving himself fractionally overextended in your personal space.

Seizing your fleeting window, you hooked one leg around his thigh and heaved with all your strength. The world spun in a blur as you reversed positions, slamming Illumi's shoulder blades against the cellar's stone floor with enough force to stun even his preternatural reflexes momentarily.

"You were saying?" you couldn't resist taunting as you used your weight to pin his hips immobile beneath yours. Your palms bracketing Illumi's chiseled features and your faces now only scant inches apart.

His gaze flickered with something utterly incendiary at your bold move. One corner of those soft lips quirked in the barest ghost of a smirk before he arched his lower body with dizzying strength.

The powerful undulation sent shockwaves of forbidden friction lancing through you both. Your breath left in a harsh gasp at the illicit heat now searing your limbs and core from such fleeting contact. Illumi's eyes glittered twin points of unholy promise at breaking through your control.

"My, my...such forthrightness," he practically purred, somehow managing to infuse those innocuous words with carnal sin. "Although if my memory serves, weren't you the one always pressing me to stop toying around and give in fully to our...indulgences?"

Your entire body went taut as tressed steel cords at the blatant callback to that first explosive encounter. The memory of Illumi's searing lips and merciless hands branding your pliant flesh with rapturous possession seared through your mind like a lightning strike. Igniting phantom brushfires in all the secret places his touch had roamed so devastatingly.

You opened your mouth, desperate to hurl back a cutting retort and snuff those banked embers before they could conflagrate completely out of control. But then Illumi shifted minutely, rolling his hips in one subtle, sinuous motion that dragged the jacquard ridge of his slacks against your molten core in the most obscene caress.

The throaty whimper that spilled from your lips would have embarrassed you if not for the exultant gleam that lit Illumi's gaze at the sound. You'd pressed too far and now, finally, the beast was roused to wakefulness. Ready to pursue its ravenous hunger to the only conclusion possible when denied for too ling.

"Well?" His voice had roughened to gravel, dark and dangerous with Alpha promise. "What's it to be, little assassin? Fight..." He punctuated the heated murmur by undulating his hips again in devastatingly perfect alignment. "Or flight?"

Despite the heated altercation in the wine cellar, where you and Illumi had teetered on the very precipice of allowing your combative passions to detonate into something cataclysmic, neither of you actually crossed that line. Not yet.

There were still too many unspoken boundaries, too much history and distrust bred into your very bones as elite assassins to simply let go so recklessly. You were both masters of restraint and discipline, after all. No matter how scorching the embers flickered between you, some part of your formidable natures wouldn't allow that inferno to fully immolate.

Not without a fight, at least.

So the game continued with renewed, blistering fervor. A gauntlet of sabotage, undermining, and all-out attempts to eliminate one another from the face of the earth whenever your latest target's trails intertwined. And yet, underneath the professional violence and searing glares...the undercurrent of bone-deep, electrifying want only intensified.

You became hyper-attuned to even Illumi's slightest movements, the way his lithe form uncoiled with leonine grace whenever you crossed paths. The anticipation built with every measured look exchanged, every blistering brush of heated bodies through the chaos of battle.

It was as if you were both engaging in some intricate occult ritual - dancing ever closer to the brink of total immolation through escalating circles of seduction and provocation. Stoking those banked embers hotter and brighter until they threatened to detonate into a conflagration that would raze your very souls.

The next job saw the two of you prowling the dimly-lit lesser echelons of Yorknew's underground aurodium exchange. Bitter professional rivals once more in pursuit of taking out a wealthy nerodist and claiming their bounty. And yet, the moment you registered Illumi's presence slinking through the rafters high above, a delicious frisson lanced straight to your very core.

With the ease of long practice, you slipped into the calculated motions of your craft. Felling guards with surgical efficiency while angling your assault towards the prime vantage that would allow you to spotting and eliminating the mark.

Only this time, as you moved into final position with your weapon prepped and sights aligned...you tracked the steady grip of Illumi's drawn blade from your periphery. Following the clean lines of those flexing forearms and upwards to find the other assassin's flinty gaze locked on you from across the cavernous space.

A lightning-struck heartbeat of bristling eye contact passed between you and you knew, with absolute certainty, that he'd marked you as his real target for the evening. Not your intended victim, but something far more primal and insatiable.

The tiniest fractional tilt of those sculpted lips curved into the ghost of his maddening half-smirk. An unspoken challenge blazed in the turbulent depths watching you with utterly unbroken intensity. A molten invitation to tear the world asunder and finally give in to the searing waltz you'd been breathlessly pursuing for months...years...

With him, there would be no holding back this time. No final shreds of control leashing the wildfire about to detonate if you surrendered to the ultimate provocation. This was the gauntlet centuries in the making - the ultimate collision between two unstoppable forces of nature who refused to be denied their cataclysmic release.

All it would take was a single shot, a hairsbreadth turn of your wrist adjusting your aim towards...

The weighted look you shared with Illumi across the cavernous underground exchange stretched into an infinitely charged moment. For a suspended heartbeat, the world seemed to go utterly still apart from the twin points of banked fire flickering in the other assassin's gaze.

A unspoken ultimatum simmered between you, laced with the dark promise that whatever this delirious game between you had been escalating towards all along...the tipping point was finally, inexorably here.

One subtle twitch of your gun's muzzle was all it would take to reject the insistent pull towards complete ruination. To turn your sights back towards the original mark, reignite the familiar dance of brinksmanship between professional adversaries, and walk away from the inferno altogether.

Or...

You could finally indulge the scorching, increasingly inescapable urge that seemed to howl through your every atom whenever Illumi's electrifying presence manifested nearby. Embrace the irresistible gravity drawing your bodies into nearer and nearer orbits with each smoldering exchange until the inevitable cosmic collision.

There would be no returning from that eternal plunge into rapturous oblivion should you choose to allow these tensions to finally detonate. No scrap of restraint or control remaining once you surrendered utterly to this deliciously untenable heat steadily reducing you both to cinders.

Illumi seemed to read the warring impulses battering you in that loaded moment. His chin dipped near-infinitesimally in a minute nod of understanding...and challenge. The next calculated inhalation saw his broad chest expanding subtly, rolling those taut pectoral ridges forward in a deliberate display of the coiled power thrumming beneath his tailored clothing.

It was a patently blatant gesture of provocation, one final taunt issued by a supremely Alpha predator impatient to rouse their prey into taking flight or standing their heated ground.

Your fingers tightened fractionally on your weapon's grip as that undeniable spark of adrenaline - of primal, churning want - ignited low in your abdomen. With each subsequent measured breath you were acutely aware of Illumi's piercing stare watching your every microreaction, hungrily searching for the instant your carefully cultivated control finally reached its terminal breaking point.

When the simmering lava flow of need you had both been so desperately attempting to dam finally found its inevitable lahar vent.

The molten promise flickered in your blood like a wildfire about to conflagrate into raging inferno. But you refused to be goaded quite so easily this time. Not when so much...so much uncharted potential for absolute rapture hung trembling in the balance.

No, if Illumi was finally ready to truly start this ancient dance anew, you were going to make the insufferable bastard work for his catharsis. Every... torturously...delicious...inch of the way.

Drawing your lips into a small, taunting smirk of your own, you allowed your gun's aim to drift lazily away from the foolish target cowering across the hall. Let the momentary confusion play out in Illumi's eyes even as the twin flames of anticipation and heated approval kindled brighter in those endlessly deep pools.

Then, with exaggerated indolence, you blew out a soft breath and adjusted your stance into an exquisite stretch that saw every lush curve of your body pulling taut against your form-fitting garments. Your tongue peeked out to lave a slow, deliberate pass across your lower lip as you drank in the thunderstruck look now suffusing Illumi's chiseled features.

If this was to be the opening overture to your ultimate freefall from the heavens...you were going to make certain every soul-searing note rang clearly.

The air itself seemed to thicken and churn with a palpable static charge as you boldly held Illumi's molten stare from across the sprawling exchange floor. This was it - the pivotal moment when one of you would finally have to be the first to recklessly leap over the yawning abyss separating professionalism from total rapturous ruination.

You could practically taste the scorching inevitability gathering like stormheads as Illumi's eyes raked over every subtle undulation of your provocative stretch. Hungrily drinking in the blatant offering presented by your arched spine and the tantalizing swell of your figure pulled taut against restrictive fabrics.

Deciding to further stoke those banked embers into an inferno, you allowed your free hand to slowly, exaggeratedly trail up the contours of your body. Fingertips tracing patterns of liquid fire from the dip of your navel, over the generous curves of your breasts, until finally coming to rest with pointed emphasis at the hollow of your throat.

You heard - or perhaps imagined, given the heated maelstrom battering your senses - Illumi's sharp inhalation from across the space separating your bodies. Like a wolf sent into hyperfocus by the first tantalizing notes of a howl carried through the underbrush.

Throwing your head back with deliberate indolence, you exposed the long pale column of your neck in unspoken invitation. A primal offering encoded into the most ancient submissive posturing...and a blatant challenge to the virile apex predator watching your every move with undisguised, ravenous intent.

Illumi's blade still hung at his side, utterly disregarded and forgotten in the wake of your escalating provocations. His stare had turned utterly unblinking, shoulders rising and falling in an irregular cadence as he seemed to commit every detail of your taunting display to smoldering memory.

This was quickly becoming untenable for you both. You could feel that final fraying thread of restraint thinning to a mere filament despite all your training, all your carefully cultivated icy control. Soon...so very soon one of you was bound to be the first to snap and finally give in to the howling needs baying for release.

A part of you thrilled with dark, lurid delight at the thought of utter surrender. To give in fully to this feverish, churning rapture and be unmade then remade anew in the searing, primal crucible promised by becoming intimately entwined with Illumi Zoldyck at long last.

But another part, that iron kernel of stubbornness and pride hardwired into your every atom, refused to simply give quarter so easily after coming this far. Let the pretentious assassin be the first to lose his way...to expose the chinks in his oh-so-indomitable armor of control.

A game of chicken, then. Pushing your taunts and provocations until that final spool of resistance began to splinter and fray completely. Daring the other to finally reach out and wrench apart the remaining tatters keeping your mutual inferno tightly banked.

You quirked one shapely brow in heated challenge as your palm continued its torturously languid trail up your sternum. Rolling your shoulders back to accentuate the profound swell of your breasts rising and falling with each increasingly ragged breath. Taking your time to adjust your stance and position just enough to ensure Illumi's darkly turbulent gaze drifted helplessly to the riot of movement.

Then, punctuating the silence that had gone utterly static in the air between you, your fingertips grazed maddeningly light patterns over the achingly sensitized skin above the neckline of your top.

"So, handsome...." you all but purred, giving voice to the sinful endearment that seemed to resonate like a thunderclap in the tiny cosmos contained within this electrified moment. "Ready to ante up? Or should I stop...wasting your time?"

The loaded silence that fell between you and Illumi seemed to stretch into a small eternity as the unspoken challenge hung white-hot in the thickened air. You could practically see the twin firestorms raging behind those depthless obsidian pools as he drank in your taunting words and provocative display.

For one faltering heartbeat, his harsh features appeared to fracture ever-so-slightly - that impenetrable façade of control cracking under the impossible strain you were ruthlessly exerting. Calloused fingers visibly flexed against the hilt of his forgotten blade as if contemplating simply hurling the weapon aside entirely.

Then, just as you began to savor the first fissures in his meticulously cultivated restraint...Illumi inhaled one measured breath through flared nostrils. Committing what seemed like every atom of his formidable willpower into steadying that hairline fracture from shattering wide open.

When his gaze finally returned to yours, it burned with searing intensity - but also something altogether more potent and inexorable. A primordial acknowledgment of the seismic shift that had just occurred in this delirious match of provocation between you.

Lines had been indelibly drawn, boundaries obliterated in the wake of your combined rising tide of lust and dogged oneupmanship. There could be no more feints or strategic maneuvers, no further illusion of maintaining a last veneered pretense of professionalism.

This had irrevocably, irretrievably become the main Event - capital E - you had both been hurtling towards across uncounted nights of fleeting, charged intersections. A terminal collision rapidly approaching that would see one of your formidable natures bent past its tensile limit and finally shattered by the sheer cataclysmic force involved.

The only remaining variables were who would provide that final devastating overture...and what unholy havoc would be wrought in its smoldering, cinder-strewn aftermath.

Illumi shifted almost imperceptibly, squaring his shoulders as if bracing himself to withstand the oncoming onslaught. You watched the subtle flexing of his throat as he swallowed once, seeming to steel his resolve before replying in that maddeningly mild timbre that somehow made every syllable resonate like stroking hands over bared nerves.

"Why don't you come over here..." he murmured with quiet, lethally-coiled intensity, "...And find out for yourself whether either of us will be wasting each other's time tonight?"

The blatant heat laden into those softly issued words triggered an involuntary shiver from the base of your spine to the nape of your neck. For a single suspended breath, the very world itself seemed to teeter upon the precipice, awaiting your ultimate response.

Would you finally gather every last scrap of your mettle and call Illumi's brazenly provocative dare? Yielding fully to the siren call awaiting in that precipitous, looming abyss that had steadily been unraveling your tightly-bound controls for months now?

Or would some fragment of your rationale, of your assassin's creed to never allow distractions or entanglements, manage to sheath itself in composure one final time? Withdrawing from this rapidly deteriorating conflict before you both rent the very fabric of existence to burning threads?

The heady choice was suddenly, perilously, yours alone to make...

A dozen different impulses battled for control as you weighed Illumi's bold, heated challenge. Part of you thrilled at the dark, smoldering promise carried in those murmured words - an unspoken vow that should you dare meet his provocation, he would finally unleash the full, merciless force of his long-restrained desire upon you.

The thought sparked molten tendrils of liquid fire lancing straight to your core. You couldn't deny the feverish allure of being one of the rare few to pierce the Zoldyck assassin's impenetrable walls and expose the primal, savagely rapacious need lying in wake beneath.

To clasp the tiger's jaws and feel its searing exhalations scorch your very essence...it was undeniably, perversely intriguing in a way that stoked your own deepest, most untoward cravings.

And yet, another part of you - that kernel of flint-stubborn pride and discipline bred into your elite bone and marrow - balked at the thought of simply surrendering so easily. Of allowing Illumi the satisfaction of rattling you into compliance first, no matter how deliriously tempting the rewards promised on the other side.

No...if this scorching waltz was to reach its exquisite, world-rendering crescendo, you refused to acquiesce to being the first player to blink.

Dragging your heavy-lidded gaze up to meet Illumi's in a blatant display of haughty dismissal, you carved one side of your mouth into a slashing smirk. The expression didn't come close to reaching your eyes, which had turned to glittering metallic flints of challenge.

"Well well, Mr. Zoldyck..." You traced the very tip of your tongue along your lower lip with exaggerated indolence. "I have to admit, you've piqued my interest with that...spicy little invitation."

You punctuated the husked words by allowing your palms to glide sinuously down the lush terrain of your body. Over the generous flare of your hips, the taut feminine curves accentuated by your form-fitting garments, all the way until your fingertips tucked purposefully into your waistband.

Illumi's own fingertips audibly tightened against the hilt of his discarded blade as his stare raptly tracked your display. The smoldering promise in those endlessly deep pools had shifted into something rawer...more wantonly naked the longer you drew out toying with his composure.

Leaning forward slightly to emphasis the profound swell of your cleavage straining against your top's plunging neckline, you clicked your tongue in exaggerated disappointment.

"Unfortunately...I don't have time to waste entertaining your particular brand of gratuitous urges tonight."

Illumi's features seemed to fracture almost imperceptibly at your dismissive words. That molten veneer of restraint now paper-thin as those hooded, predatory eyes bored into yours with searing intensity. Silently demanding elaboration as to whether you were truly intending to withdraw from the brink after so relentlessly stoking the inferno between you both.

Unable to resist one final goad, you faked a theatrically disingenuous pout before slowly, sinuously hitching your hips in a subtle roll of exquisite provocation. "But don't worry, handsome...I'm sure we'll have the chance to pick this back up another time. When you've had the chance to...cool that notoriously intense ardor of yours."

The twitch that rippled across Illumi's chiseled jawline indicated your taunt scored a direct hit. You could practically see the sheer force of that pent-up ardor battering against the remaining brittle shards of his restraint like a maelstrom hurling itself against a rapidly crumbling dam's gatehouse.

"Until then..." You held his heated stare unflinchingly as you turned on one heel in a swirl of skirts. Already anticipating the seething inferno of denied hunger and frustrated need that would surely be etched across Illumi's expression over your shoulder.

"Try not to burn yourself up from the inside, Zoldyck."

Not giving the danger dance between you both so much as a parting glance, you slipped away into the abyss as silent and ethereal as death's whisper itself.

Leaving the other half of your exquisite struggle to contend with the roiling, savagely thunderous tempest clawing at his admittedly formidable composure in your swirling wake.

-

The dimly lit lounge pulsed with the sort of charged, illicit energy that draws hunters and their prey alike into its neon-hazed aura. Perfect for your current mission of luring the despicable mark into a strategic seduction before neutralizing him.

You'd coiled yourself sinuously onto one of the banquettes ringing the central bar, making sure to catch the sleazebag's rapt attention from across the room. A few carefully timed hair-tosses and coquettish glances over the rim of your cocktail glass were all it took before he began making his way over.

Straightening your spine, you allowed one sculpted leg to arc provocatively as you prepared to reel your next victim in completely. This was the part you truly excelled at - donning whatever irresistible lure was required to ensnare your targets before coldly reaping them for your employer's highest bid.

Except this time, your eyes barely had a chance to flutter open with feigned demureness before a presence materialized beside your banquette like a wraith coalescing from the lounge's smoky shadows.

"There you are, my dearest wife. You really shouldn't wander off from me like that in places like this."

The flat, eerily toneless baritone sliced through the throbbing bassline and caused you to stiffen in stunned recognition. Because of course the insufferable Illumi Zoldyck would materialize to undermine you again right when you were working.

As if the netherworld's cruelest cosmic joke, the assassin slid into the booth beside you uninvited and shifted until his tailored form was plastered uncaringly against your side. One long arm snaked around your waist to draw you in tighter against his body in a shockingly intimate embrace.

"I-Illumi, what the hell do you think you're—" you tried to spit out through gritted teeth, but he cut you off.

"Darling, is that any way to greet your beloved husband after being separated for so long?" His tone remained that same mild, laconic drawl even as one corner of those soft lips curved slightly in a mockery of a fond smile.

The effect was undeniably unsettling...and also indescribably simmering in the most unfurly way your rational mind refused to dwell on right now.

You opened your mouth to angrily protest his absurd charade further, but Illumi made a clicking tutting sound before leaning in close enough for his fiery exhales to ghost your cheek.

"Play along nicely," he murmured in a tone that somehow made the innocuous endearment sound purgatorially hot against your skin. "Unless you'd like me to blow your cover over there and ruin all your hard work seducing that pathetic mark?"

The subtle tip of his chin indicated where your actual intended target had frozen halfway across the lounge floor. One beefy hand still outstretched from where he'd been rudely interrupted while on his prowl by this insane scene.

Jaw clenched in seething frustration, you nevertheless recognized the fact that Illumi had effortlessly gained the upper hand here as per usual. If you tried to slip away now, he'd no doubt make good on derailing your entire operation out of pure petty vindictiveness.

Which meant you had no choice except to allow the other assassin his little heterosexual homelife play, at least for the moment. Whatever deranged game of wits Illumi thought he was playing at, you'd find a way to subtly regain control sooner than later.

Favoring him with your sweetest, most vapid smile, you leaned in until your cheeks brushed provocatively together under the guise of issuing a fond greeting kiss between "lovers."

"There's my wonderfully overbearing darling," you practically purred with dripping saccharine against Illumi's jaw. "And here I was beginning to worry you'd never show up after keeping me waiting all this time..."

One elegant brow arched a hairsbreadth as Illumi allowed his palm to slip south and settle overtly possessive against your hip. The heat singeing the patterns his merciless fingertips traced there made it impossible to suppress a subtle shiver.

"Now now, pet..." The molten whisper vibrated straight through your sternum and pooled heavy in your abdomen. "We both know I'd never abandon such a deliciously...obedient wife for long."

He punctuated the provocative words by slanting you a weighted look rife with dark, unspoken promise. In that heated moment, it was impossible to tell if you were playing the part of wanton newlyweds or something...else entirely more intimate and primal.

One thing was certain - your night had irrevocably been knocked off its already unsteady axis courtesy of your most infuriatingly persistent rival.

And you had a sinking suspicion this was Illumi's idea of well-earned payback for all the delicious torment you'd put him through as of late.

Illumi's grip tightened infinitesimally against your hip as his gaze remained locked in that same simmering, unblinking stare. The two of you were rapidly spiraling into hazy, uncharted territory where realities seemed to blur and distort like a mirage's shimmering heatwaves.

Was this truly just some absurd, inexplicable attempt at sabotaging your mission objectives? Or had the circuitous game of provocations and heated oneupmanship between you progressed to the point of this being Illumi's next daring gambit to unravel you completely?

You found yourself momentarily adrift, unsure whether you should be playing along with the farce of his imposed "loving spouse" charade...or abandoning the pretense altogether in favor of something far more visceral. After all, didn't a situation like this technically represent yet another incendiary gauntlet offered between two willing combatants spoiling for their next pyric clash?

Just as you were weighing how to finally shatter the tension electrifying the air between your bodies, Illumi took the decision out of your hands. In one lithe, unsettlingly sensuous motion, he turned and swung one leg over your lap until he was straddling you brazenly.

"You have no idea how long I've been dreaming about getting you all to myself like this," he murmured in that same lethally mild cadence that somehow made every syllable drip with sinful intent. "Since our last...indulgence, the thought of tasting that pretty, defiant little mouth of yours again has been an agonizing craving, my dear, wicked wife."

The seemingly innocuous terms of endearment landed like smoldering brands against your already feverish skin. This was beyond even his usual provocations, beyond the taunting flirtations and increasingly blurred lines you'd been toying with together for months now.

No, this felt deeper...more primal. Like Illumi was showing his teeth at last in a truly unrestrained display of the blistering, unholy need both of you had been stoking to roaring life.

Still, you refused to surrender the upper hand - or what shredded composure remained - quite so easily. Arching one challenging brow, you shifted deliberately against his weight settled over your thighs and feigned an indolent stretch.

"Oh my, you certainly have a way with pretty words, don't you handsome?" you lilted with exaggerated nonchalance. "But we both know you'd never have the patience to indulge in all this unnecessary foreplay first."

Punctuating your veiled dare, you allowed one hand to drift upwards and cup the taut swell of Illumi's pectoral beneath the sleek tailoring of his suit. Tracing scorchingly deliberate lines along the defined ridges and valleys there in an utterly unambiguous caress.

"Why don't you get around to showing this supposedly wicked wife of yours just how thorough your...appetites truly are instead of wasting both of our time?"

The resounding crash of glass shattering against the far side of the lounge barely even registered over the sudden, leaden weight of tension surging like a riptide between you at your provocative words. Every atom of the known universe seemed to grind to a screeching halt, awaiting Illumi's reaction with bated finality.

Then, like ignition finding an oxyacetylene mix, every last thread of that fabled Zoldyck restraint appeared to unspool in one fell immolation behind those blazing dark eyes. His entire frame stilled to such dead raptorial focus that you nearly missed the hairline fractures of composed control now webbing across his chiseled features.

When he spoke at last, the words emerged in a rough, gravel-laced rasp so devastatingly virile your core clenched in reflexive response.

"Game...bloody...on, then."

And with that softly intoned vow laced with portent, Illumi's hips rolled forward in one lethally precise undulation tailored to grind his hardening cock against your molten center. Stoking the smoldering embers now blazing between you anew as you surrendered to this latest, most brutal round of chicken.

A harsh gasp punched from your lungs before you could strangle it at the shockwaves of searing friction radiating from Illumi's calculated grind against your sensitized flesh. He felt it too - the infinitesimal tremor racing through your joined bodies - if the way his piercing stare sharpened into dark, unholy approval was any indication.

"I-Illumi..." you managed to rasp out in what was meant as an admonition. But the breathy quaver twisting your tone transformed the utterance into something far more akin to pleading persuasion.

Damn him for always managing to unravel you so utterly with even the subtlest of calculated provocations. This entire scenario was quickly spiraling beyond the boundaries of playful oneupmanship and into territories unexplored...and highly dangerous for ones of your ilk to tread.

Summoning the tattered remnants of your restraint, you settled both palms firmly against the assassin's powerful chest with the intent of forcibly creating space. Of regaining whatever tenuous grasp on rational control one of you still possessed before--

The scorching words that spilled like sin from Illumi's lips shattered that feeble line of defense before you could even draw your next strained inhalation.

"Yes..." he husked, each consonant seeming to etch itself into your very marrow. "Say my name like that again, wife. Let me hear that honeyed desperation dripping from your lips just once more."

Punctuating the dark command, he shifted subtly, rearranging his weight so that those merciless hips ground down in another searing, lushly undulating roll that dragged deliciously against your scorched center.

A strangled, mewling sound you didn't recognize as your own punched from your core at the rapturous assault. Every atom of your existence suddenly seemed to white out into pure electrified nerves pulsing in exquisite, delirious rapture at Illumi's continued calculated onslaught.

Some distant, fraying part of your consciousness registered that you were rapidly losing whatever strategic foothold remained in regaining control of this rapidly devolving situation. Illumi was a grand master at subjugation through the sheer merciless application of exquisitely unleashed desire.

And with your restraints being whittled to shreds beneath that implacable storm of his relentlessly stoked passions, it was only a matter of agonizing moments before you succumbed to the lancing siren call and surrendered everything to its searing raptures...

Clawing for one final, flimsy lifeline of composure, you rasped out a desperate deflection laced with as much hauteur as you could desperately muster through the fractures in your mask.

"Y-You arrogant...ingrate," you managed to grit out with a defiant curl of your lips. "Did you really think this pathetic attempt at mind games would be enough to make me buckle to your vile appetites?"

As if dealing the deathblow to any delusion you wielded the upper hand, Illumi arched one eloquent brow and delivered a punishingly precise hip roll that sent galaxies of white-hot exquisite rapture blazing through your shuddering form.

"We'll just have to see about that now, won't we...pet?"

And with one last salacious grind of his weight settled fully over your now trembling thighs, Illumi suddenly disengaged. His formidable frame rising from your tangled forms in one effortlessly sinuous motion, leaving you utterly disoriented and bereft in the smoldering wake of his denial.

"Wait--" The pleading syllable wrenched itself free before you could mercifully strangle it. But by then Illumi was already turning on his heel to melt back into the dizzying lounge's shadows with that same inscrutable half-smile ghosting the firm line of his mouth.

When your lust-addled brain finally reconnected with reality, the jacquard evidence of your unwound state remained prominently displayed in your lap as a dark, taunting promise. One Illumi clearly had no compunctions leaving you to wrestle with as the ultimate testament to your loss of control in this latest round.

The silken flogger's tails slipped through your uncoordinated fingers as you attempted to rise unsteadily to your feet, every fiber of your being strung taut and vibrating like a live wire brought to the searing edge of rapturous obliteration without release.

When next you and your incessantly provoking rival crossed paths, this latest slight would not go unanswered.

One way...or literally another.

The dingy back-alley reeked of stale city grit and burnt adrenaline as you slipped through the shadows towards your target's ramshackle hideout. This was meant to be a clean, straightforward operation - tail the mark, neutralize him while he was unaware, collect payment, ghost away into the night once more.

At least, that's what should have transpired if the universe hadn't seen fit to thoroughly upend your best-laid calculations yet again.

You sensed his disquieting presence a split-second before the shadows themselves seemed to coalesce that lithe, unsettlingly familiar form beside you. Of course the insufferable Illumi Zoldyck would materialize to undermine your objective, just like every other infuriating time your paths intersected.

"You again..." you hissed lowly, muscles instinctively coiling as your free hand strayed towards the concealed blade at your hip. "What are you doing here, Zoldyck?"

One dark brow arched fractionally as Illumi regarded you with that same unshakable, vaguely reptilian calm he always exuded on the job. As if you weren't even worth the trouble of being rattled, let alone engaged with directly.

"Isn't it obvious?" came his flat response after a loaded pause. "We've been hired for the same mark again. Although at this rate, I have to start questioning whether you're simply stalking me on purpose."

You scoffed harshly at the barb, fighting to ignore the familiar flutter of that delicious, precarious tension now crackling between your bodies with the ease of long practice. As if the sight of this particular rival alone wasn't enough to set your pulse thundering precipitously these days.

"You're delusional as always if you think I have any interest in your company beyond putting a dagger in your back," you growled, squaring off into an unmistakably confrontational stance. "Either get out of my way, or--"

"Or what?" Illumi cut you off smoothly, somehow managing to loom over you despite the scant inches separating your heights. "You'll attempt to make a show of seducing me as usual? We've been down this fruitless road before, pet. Many times now."

His piercing stare somehow seemed to undress you down to your thrumming marrow despite every stitch of clothing firmly in place. Daring you with those banked embers searing behind hooded lids to finally be the first to ignite the maelstrom openly raging between you beyond the point of control.

You opened your mouth to hurl back a cutting retort...and in that infinitesimal window of distraction, a harsh clatter sounded from the abandoned building.

Both your heads whipped around in unison as the mark burst through the rear egress with a startled cry, clearly spooked by your presences lurking nearby. He didn't so much as register your outstretched forms before wheeling and bolting towards the narrow alley's mouth with startling swiftness.

"You imbecile!" Illumi snarled in a rare show of true anger as he exploded into pursuit. "Don't let him—"

But you were already moving, fury propelling your strides into a flat sprint as you flung yourself into the chase with wild abandon. This contract was yours, damn his interference, and you'd carved out your grisly reputation bathed in the sorts of stunts that would see lesser assassins martyred without quarter.

The world compressed into a howling vortex of thundering adrenaline as you rapidly closed the scant distance separating you and the panicking mark. Some distant, rational part of you registered Illumi's pounding strides tight on your heels like a mercilessly inexorable shadow about to swallow the both of you whole.

You were almost close enough to reach out and seize your quarry's flailing coattails...when he veered sharply towards a narrow side street and hurled a discarded plank of scrap lumber directly into your hurtling path.

The unexpected projectile caught you squarely in the midsection with crushing force, punching the air from your lungs in a devastated rush.

You doubled over, gasping for escaped breath as Illumi predictably shouldered past you without a shred of hesitation or concern for your well-being. Even as you flailed, temporarily winded on the verge of blacking out, his tenacious footfalls rapidly faded up the side alley as he relentlessly pursued the mark alone.

That insufferable, ruthless, single-minded--

The blistering haze of fury galvanized your senses back into razor-sharp clarity just in time to steady your strides. Honing every atom of your being into a fine, piercing point of lethal focus as you rounded the corner after them with scarcely a moment's delay.

The sight that awaited you, however, was one you could never have anticipated in a thousand lifetimes of assassination.

The narrow side street was utterly deserted apart from Illumi standing frozen in the center, body taut as a bowstring yet somehow radiating palpable waves of disbelief and restrained fury.

You felt your own volcanic anger briefly stunted as you took in the bizarre scene, gaze hastily tracking for any sign of the mark. There was nothing - no cowering form stuffed in a nook, no telltale scuffs indicating his path of escape. It was as if the wretched target had simply...vanished into thin air.

"What the hell happened?" you bit out once close enough for Illumi to inevitably sense your presence beside him. "Don't tell me that after all your bravado, the sniveling coward actually managed to evade the great Illumi Zoldyck too."

His jaw tightened infinitesimally at your barbed taunt, shoulders squaring like a panther preparing to leap as he finally pivoted to face you head-on. Up close, you could make out the scorching embers flickering to lurid life behind those onyx depths.

"On the contrary," he gritted out in that terribly mild tone that somehow laced every syllable with simmering menace. "Your blundering ineptitude is what allowed this failure to transpire."

You scoffed harshly at the accusation, rigor returning to your muscles as you matched Illumi's defensive stance in an instinctive mirror. "That's rich coming from a self-aggrandizing fool who couldn't neutralize a sedated invalid without making an operatic spectacle of it!"

"I had the situation well in hand," he fired back without missing a beat, somehow managing to loom inches from your face despite the negligible difference separating your statures. So close, in fact, that you were forced to tip your chin upwards as his heated breaths fanned scorching patterns across your cheekbones. "It was your delayed involvement that provided our mark with the opening to flee in the first place."

Some distant part of your consciousness recognized the perilous territory you were both veering towards - the razor-thin tightrope separating this heated confrontation and the sort of unfettered conflagration destined to consume you if either slipped. Every muscle quivered with rigorous discipline as you fought against the molten urge to simply surge forward and unleash the full tempest howling between your strained bodies.

But Illumi's uncanny gaze glittered with something darker, more primal than usual professional antagonism. Like he recognized the churning cusp you stood balanced upon just as acutely...and was silently daring you to make the first calamitous leap over the edge into oblivion.

"Just admit you're in over your inferior skull and stand down before you truly become a liability," he murmured in a soft, smoke-laced rasp that somehow brooked no compromise. "This assignment requires a defter hand than your usual heavy-handed antics can provide."

The patronizing undercurrent sliced straight through whatever tattered self-restraint you'd been clinging to like a man overboard clutching driftwood. Something inside you finally snapped with an almost audible reverberation as every ounce of pent-up tension detonated in searing release.

The next thing you registered was your fist impacting Illumi's chiseled jaw with a resounding thunk of impact, snapping his head aside with enough force to splinter bone on a lesser assassin. A bloom of crimson erupted from his nostril, trailing garnet rivulets down towards those merciless lips.

You staggered backwards, chest heaving rapid breaths that didn't come close to slaking the bonfire ignited in your veins. Illumi simply remained rooted where he stood, expression inscrutable as he slowly turned that penetrating obsidian stare back towards you.

Measuring every scintilla of your disheveled, furiously wound state with those hooded lids brimming embers of primal promise...and incendiary approval at what he found blazing there.

In that infinite breath, the entire universe ground to a standstill around you - awaiting one minuscule push to send it all spiraling gloriously, unstoppably, into rapturous cataclysm.

"Well then..." Illumi husked at last as his lips curved into an unholy grin of salacious satisfaction. "I suppose we're finally going to see which of us breaks first after all these heated dalliances, little assassin..."

A heartbeat of leaden suspension stretched between you, trembling on that ultimate precipice as the decision hovered suspended on a wisp of fate.

Then, as if tasting release on the arid desert wind for the first time, the flood walls fractured and the deluge came raging through.

Your second haymaker slammed into Illumi's jaw with enough brutal force to make even his preternatural reflexes falter. He absorbed the bone-rattling impact with an animalistic grunt, dark eyes blazing like newly stoked coals in the instant before he retaliated.

One calloused palm whipped up to snare your wrist mid-swing before you could unleash a third wild strike. With almost negligent ease, he wrenched your arm back across your body until your back collided with the alley's grungy brickwork. The breath punched from your lungs in a harsh wheeze as Illumi pinned you there, bodies aligned in searing alignment from crown to toe.

For one suspended eternity, you remained frozen in that tableau - potential combatants sizing each other up before mutually deciding to discard the final tottering remnants of restraint instead. The maelstrom neither of you had possessed the discipline to resist any longer.

Then, as if some cosmic switch had been thrown, you simultaneously surged forward to crash together like superheated bodies in an unstoppable fusion reaction.

Illumi's hands were everywhere, mercilessly possessive as they clamped around your waist and hips to haul your weight flush against his powerful frame. Your own fingers fisted into the starched lapels of his jacket with bruising intensity, relishing the harsh judder of muscle and bone you felt beneath fine linen.

His lips slanted over yours in a calculated brand of pure possession, tongue spearing past your parted defenses to stake its dominance with each scorching duel. You gasped shudderingly into the onslaught, giving as ravenously as you received while surrendering to the searing tidal wave of need crashing through your veins.

Somewhere distantly, the night sky above shuddered with the banshee wail of sirens and the cacophonous thunder of the city's lifeblood roiling all around you. But the rest of the world may as well have ceased revolving entirely for how little you registered outside this infinitesimal maelstrom of sensation and primal, unholy rapture.

You were the sole wellspring and terminus, the stratonic forces converging in an explosive lambda implosion that would render everything beyond to smoldering ash within its transfigurative wake.

Illumi broke the liplock only to trail his merciless ministrations along the vulnerable curve of your neck, teeth and tongue staking out lush patterns of possession as he went. Each harsh scrape and searing exhalation sent fresh shockwaves of electrified need straight to your thrumming core. You arched shamelessly into his frame, silently pleading for more of his exquisite ruination through the spiral of rapidly deteriorating control.

Any last vestige of proprietary fled as your wandering hands sought out the hard, flexing ridges of Illumi's body sheathed beneath perfectly tailored fabric. Stroking, teasing, peeling layers back to uncover more and more of his predatory brutality clawing vindictively to the surface now. You were utterly intoxicated on it - the raw, uninhibited power radiating from Illumi's very essence as all the tangled threads of restraint frayed into oblivion between your devouring bodies.

This was the long-overdue precipice you'd been balancing upon since that very first, fateful clash between professional talents. An inevitability distilled and condensed down to its purest molecular essence until only one irrefutable terminus remained - searing raptures and utter, irrevocable ruination for whatever dared linger on after.

The sharp snap of fabric being rent from its seam jolted your senses back to the moment just as Illumi's hands slipped beneath the hem of your top. He tore his mouth from the bruised hollow of your throat with a harsh gasp, chest heaving with the same ragged respirations racking your own form.

His pupils were blown wide, black as the void behind the glittering, unfettered flames licking across their surface. As if the sight of you, already thoroughly undone beneath his hands, was the most beautiful, rapturous vision he'd ever witnessed in his lifetime.

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before his hands were at your waist, lifting you with preternatural ease until your thighs locked instinctively around his hips and your back hit the unforgiving brickwork. His palms slid up to settle beneath the supple curves of your ass, gripping so fiercely you suspected the prints would be tattooed there for weeks to come.

Illumi rolled his pelvis in a slow, languorous undulation that made your head drop back with a desperate mewl. The rigid heat straining against his slacks dragged tortuously across the soaked front of your leggings, the friction sending molten shivers ricocheting through every atom of your body.

He repeated the motion with that same agonizing rhythm, savoring every strangled cry and breathless plea that spilled from your lips at his leisurely torment. Until the only words remaining in your vocabulary were a garbled litany of his name and a fevered begging for more.

You'd never felt such unbridled, visceral need before, a tempestuous vortex of pure fire and electricity threatening to devour you from the inside out if he didn't satiate it right here and now.

Illumi's teeth were suddenly at your neck again, dragging along the delicate pulse fluttering beneath your jaw with a growl that seemed to originate from the very pits of hell. "So impatient," he chastised against the delicate shell of your ear, the gravel-laced baritone dripping with pure sin. "My impatient, wanton little wife."

Before you could protest, his hips snapped forward with a force that stole the air from your lungs and rattled your very bones. Every nerve ignited, the white-hot pleasure-pain so exquisite it nearly sent you spiraling over the edge right then and there.

You clung to his broad shoulders for dear life, the seams of your leggings stretching thin as Illumi's relentless pistoning threatened to shred the fabric altogether. Each ruthless thrust of his hips drove his cock against the molten seam of your center, grinding his thick, straining ridge over your clit with unerring precision.

Your climax was rapidly coiling to the bursting point, every atom of your being strung to fever pitch as you careened towards the inevitable, obliterating oblivion. Illumi's mouth had resumed its merciless assault on the sensitive hollow of your neck, sucking and biting with punishing intent until you were certain there'd be no mistaking the marks left behind.

As if every inch of your body wasn't already branded indelibly by his touch, the thought of being left with tangible, lingering proof of his claiming stoked the inferno inside you to a roaring frenzy.

The seams of your leggings finally gave way just as Illumi tugged his own pants down, the fabric tearing beneath the relentless friction of Illumi's assault. You felt the unmistakable drag of bare flesh against slick flesh and moaned shamelessly. The thought of him rutting you bare and open, fully exposed and vulnerable to his whims, should have been a blistering red flag. Instead, it was all that was needed to catapult you over the edge into the abyss.

Illumi's fingers tightened punishingly on your ass as your body shattered around him, the ecstasy so intense it sent every atom of your consciousness whiting out. His own ragged groan against your throat was the only warning before the scalding heat of his release pulsed across your skin, the liquid heat seeping down the back of your thighs in searing rivulets.

Without warning, your entire reality tilted and shifted. In the next instant, you registered the rough stone of a different wall digging into your spine as Illumi slammed you bodily into the adjacent building. His weight pressed you there, pinning your writhing form into place while he continued rutting against your slick, aching folds with a newfound frenzy.

The overstimulation was so overwhelming, the sensation verging on the edge of pain, yet you couldn't summon the willpower to make him stop. Instead, you clung to his powerful shoulders and rode out the delirious storm as another, even more brutal climax crested like a tsunami over the horizon.

The next thing you registered was Illumi's scorching mouth sealed over yours, devouring your strangled cry as a second wave of mind-numbing rapture detonated through your form. Some distant corner of your consciousness registered him pulsing another hot, scalding flood of cum against the small of your back before his weight slumped bonelessly into your heaving body.

Illumi didn’t bother breaking the kiss, the languid slide of his tongue and lips against yours so unhurried and thorough it seemed like he was attempting to brand himself onto every last molecule of your being. You responded in kind, relishing the salty musk and iron tang still clinging to his lips and the rough scrape of stubble along his jawline.

Your fingers had drifted into his silken locks, combing through the soft tresses that spilled freely down his shoulders and tickled your collarbone. Illumi hummed approvingly against your mouth, his own hands sliding up the planes of your sides until they cupped the weight of your breasts.

The dexterous pads of his fingers traced teasing, spiraling patterns around the peaks of your nipples until they tightened and throbbed beneath the attention. Then he pinched them between his thumb and forefingers, rolling and tugging the engorged tips in time with his plundering tongue until you were writhing anew beneath him.

Illumi had somehow managed to hitch your thighs higher, hooking your knees over his elbows and spreading you wider, allowing the new position to press his half-hardened length even more deeply against your molten core.

The sudden friction had your head falling back against the stone with a thunk and a moan, the overstimulation too much yet somehow not nearly enough all at once.

He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, taking his time to trace the delicate line of your collarbones with his lips before sinking his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. A guttural sound wrenched itself free from the depths of your chest, your fingernails raking punishing lines down his shoulder blades as his mouth sucked a livid bruise into your skin.

You couldn’t take it anymore, the unrelenting onslaught of his sensual attack too much for your overwrought nerves to endure. Twining your fingers into his hair, you dragged Illumi up until your lips were hovering scant inches apart.

Your voice emerged a rough, rasping wreck when you finally managed to force the words out. "Illumi...fuck, please, I need--"

His fingers tightened fractionally around your throat, the pressure just light enough to stifle the flow of air without restricting it entirely. "You will learn to beg properly for my affections, wife," he husked in that devastatingly lethal tenor that sent another wave of molten heat spiraling through your core.

"Please," you breathed, no longer caring about the shameful, desperate edge threading your voice. "Illumi, I need you. Need you inside me. Now."

Something in his impossibly dark eyes seemed to shift at that, the banked embers smoldering behind his hooded gaze suddenly flickering to raging conflagrations. With a low snarl, he claimed your mouth in a bruising, devouring kiss as he finally, mercifully lined his now-aching cock up with your weeping entrance.

The first searing, aching stretch was almost enough to make you come apart again right then and there. The delicious burn of his girth and the delicious friction as he slowly bottomed out had you reeling, nails digging furrows into the flesh of his shoulders as you arched up against him.

Illumi's pace was relentless, hips snapping with brutal, punishing thrusts that rocked you deeper into the brickwork with each punishing stroke. Your world narrowed to nothing but the overwhelming heat and fullness, the unhinged pleasure-pain that threatened to consume you whole.

Your third release slammed into you with all the force of a tidal wave, the sheer intensity so overwhelming that you couldn't even muster a cry as the rapture consumed your senses. Illumi followed shortly after, burying his face into the crook of your neck and groaning a curse that would have made a sailor blush as his cock pulsed a scorching flood into your spasming core.

He didn't move to disengage right away, continuing to pin you against the wall with his weight and nuzzling soft kisses along your collarbone while you both caught your breaths. The tender ministrations were at such odds with the wild, uninhibited fucking you'd just been subjected to that you found yourself wondering if this was the real Illumi Zoldyck. The assassin stripped down to the most human, vulnerable part of his psyche...the part that had been hidden from the rest of the world for so long.

The thought made your heart do something dangerous and complicated that you chose to ignore for the moment. Instead, you let him continue lavishing affection on your skin, the featherlight kisses gradually growing less languid and more insistent.

When his hips rolled forward with a newfound urgency, you let him guide one leg to curl around his waist and moaned as his cock sank even more deeply into you. He was already fully hard again, his thrusts gradually gaining momentum as the familiar, electric tension coiled and built between your joined bodies once more.

Just as you felt yourself careening towards the edge of oblivion, Illumi suddenly pulled out. The loss was so shocking and abrupt that a ragged gasp punched from your throat as you reflexively reached out for his broad shoulders. But Illumi was already moving, turning you so that your palms hit the cool stone and your hips jutted back at a sharp angle.

He guided your legs further apart and nudged his cock against the puffy, dripping seam of your center once more. When you bucked backwards and keened with desperation, he finally granted mercy and buried himself to the hilt with a single, powerful thrust.

Illumi's palm settled at the base of your neck, pressing just enough to tilt your head backwards as he leaned down to rasp hotly against the shell of your ear. "You'll come undone with me this time, little wife. So be a good girl and take it."

And then, without warning, his other hand snaked down to circle the aching, throbbing bundle of nerves above where you were stretched impossibly wide around him. Illumi's thrusts grew more punishing, fingers dancing an infuriating, featherlight pattern over your clit in counterpoint.

Within moments, the dual assault had you shuddering and moaning his name shamelessly, pleading for the sweet release that was just out of reach. You were so close - almost, almost, almost--

Then Illumi pinched your clit between his forefinger and thumb and you fell apart with a ragged scream, vision whiting out into pure, unending oblivion as he continued fucking you through the climax. He only allowed you a few precious moments to recover before he was pulling out once more, turning you roughly in his arms until he could hoist you up and pin your back against the wall.

Illumi didn't even bother waiting for your legs to hook around his hips, simply hitching you up by the thighs until your dripping slit was level with his cock and slid back inside with one smooth motion. The new angle had him hitting even deeper than before, every thrust of his hips slamming home until the breath was driven from your lungs and you could do nothing but cling to his powerful shoulders and surrender to his unrelenting domination.

Your fifth release left you a limp, shaking mess in his arms, the only thing holding you aloft being the strength of his powerful arms and the unyielding hardness buried to the hilt inside you. As if sensing the limits of your endurance, Illumi's pace quickened, his thrusts growing more frantic and erratic.

The moment his lips crashed into yours and he began to pulse hot, wet streaks against your fluttering walls, a sixth climax exploded through you out of nowhere. You were well aware of the embarrassingly intense gush of juices spraying between your bodies, the lewd sound so wet and obscene you felt yourself blush furiously.

But Illumi simply growled his approval into your mouth, the sound rumbling all the way through your joined bodies as he kept fucking you through the climax. He was still rock-hard, the friction so delicious and the sensation of his cock stroking along every swollen, hypersensitive inch of you so overwhelming that it was almost enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Then his fingers were on your clit again, circling with a newfound precision that had the breath punched from your lungs and a sob ripped from your lips. Illumi didn't relent, continuing his ministrations while simultaneously slamming his cock against your abused, tender cervix until the overstimulation had you reeling and writhing desperately.

"One more, little wife," he commanded, voice hoarse and raw. "I know you have one more in you. Give it to me."

The sheer authority in his tone sent you crashing over the edge for the seventh time, the force of your orgasm so intense that you blacked out for a split-second. The only thing keeping you tethered to reality was Illumi's bruising grip and the relentless pounding of his cock into your spasming channel.

When his hips stuttered and his breath hissed out through his teeth, you braced yourself for the scalding flood that would follow. But he pulled out at the last instant, his thick release spraying across your bare breasts and stomach instead.

He pumped his cock vigorously, milking every last drop of the hot, pearly liquid until you were streaked with it from collarbone to navel. Then Illumi leaned forward and sealed his mouth over yours, his tongue sliding languidly through your parted lips as he pressed his still-rigid length against the slick, puffy seam of your center.

"One more, love," he murmured into your mouth, the tenderness in his tone so unexpected it sent a sharp pang echoing through your chest. "Don’t worry. I’ll give your pussy a break. I promise."

The sudden emptiness as Illumi's cock slipped from between your folds was almost unbearable. You whimpered softly, hips rocking instinctively as he shifted his grip on your thighs. Then the broad head of his shaft was nudging against a different opening, the blunt pressure so sudden and overwhelming that your breath locked in your lungs.

"Relax," Illumi coached gently, hands sliding soothingly up and down the backs of your thighs as he slowly, steadily inched his way inside. "Have you done this before?"

"No," you admitted in a shaky whisper, fingers flexing where they were still latched around his neck.

He paused in his gentle exploration, his obsidian gaze boring into yours with such intensity it seemed to strip every last ounce of restraint away. "Good," he rasped, his voice so gravelly and low you could practically feel the vibration of it against your very bones. "That's exactly how I want you, little wife. Just for me. My little, innocent, perfect little wife..."

Illumi's words were an erotic litany, a brand against your skin with every syllable and thrust. He was so deep inside you, deeper than he'd ever been, filling every inch and crevice so perfectly.

The ache was almost too much, the stretch bordering on painful yet so exquisite you could scarcely stand it. You couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't even form a coherent thought beyond the single, primal urge to hold onto him and never let go.

So that's exactly what you did.

"I love you."

The confession came from so far out of left field, it took you a moment to realize that you were the one who'd spoken the words. They were true, though - so true it was like the entire universe had suddenly crystallized around the simple, undeniable truth.

It was terrifying and liberating all at once, the sort of revelation that would change everything.

"Illumi, I--"

But he silenced you with a kiss that was almost chaste, a sweet, gentle brush of his lips that somehow carried more emotion than a thousand filthy promises could convey.

"I love you, too."

And when he began moving inside you again, the achingly tender strokes were so at odds with his earlier carnal savagery that the sensation was almost enough to shatter you into a million pieces all over again.

He held you throughout, whispering the softest, most tender confessions into your skin as the pleasure slowly built and crested. You came with a sob, a fresh rush of wetness soaking the place where you were joined as his name spilled from your lips over and over.

Illumi followed shortly after, his cock twitching and pulsing in time with each searing flood until you were completely, utterly spent. His seed leaked out in sticky rivulets as he pulled out at last, a combination of both your juices now trickling down the insides of your thighs.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Illumi simply continued to hold you, his forehead pressed against yours as his warm breath fanned across your cheekbones. You basked in the closeness, letting the silence cocoon around the both of you as the rest of the world ceased to exist beyond the circle of his arms.

At last, he spoke, his words so soft and low they nearly got lost in the night air. "My family is very traditional. There are...certain expectations they have for a first-born son."

A leaden weight settled in the pit of your stomach, dread coalescing into a cold, hard knot that threatened to steal the breath from your lungs. You already had a sneaking suspicion you knew where this was going, but you couldn't bring yourself to voice the question.

Illumi, however, seemed to understand your silent plea regardless. "You would make a lovely wife for me, little assassin," he whispered, his voice somehow managing to carry every ounce of warmth and reassurance you needed to hear. His hand drifted downward to stroke your belly, the lightest of pressures yet enough to convey the unspoken implication behind his words.

“The last physical copy of a greek play hand-written by Homer himself. The Illiad. Some collectors would pay billions for just a chance to see it and it’s by far the supreme leader’s most priceless artifact at the treasury.” Everything started to click into place and you had to fight off a grin at the mention of your boss’ favorite thing to steal. Old books.

You nodded, bowing a bit further than necessary in an attempt to avoid his stare, “Understood.”

“Oh, and one other thing..” The sound of Chrollo saying your name was something you never heard often enough, the rarity only making it sweeter on your ears.

“Yes, sir?”

“You’ll be posing as my date for the gala. You and I will retrieve the play by ourselves.” If you weren’t turned to stone under his scrutiny you’re sure the panic would’ve been much more evident on your face.

It was immature to say you had a “crush on your boss,” but you absolutely did. Ever since you joined four years ago you couldn’t help but find him fascinating, and just a tiny bit attractive. But despite everything you were loyal to the Troupe first and foremost, you couldn’t let yourself get caught up in your emotions like some kind of schoolgirl.

Heart racketing against your chest, you found the nerve to speak, “Understood, sir.”

“Alright, we’ll leave for the party tomorrow after sunset. Meet me back here well before then so we can go over the details.”

The four of you all turned to leave, but the sound of Chrollo saying your name froze you mid-step, “Stay a bit longer. I need to discuss your plan for tomorrow now, if you don’t mind.”

Mutely, you nodded, and once the other three spiders had left the abandoned building you both stood in felt much smaller. A wisp of a smile fell over his face as he turned away from you to walk over to the hotel closet, the paneling chipped off from years of neglect. With a slightly dramatic flourish he drew back the door, watching the way your eyes widened.

A slim, black dress hung on a satin hook, layered with some kind of velvet lace at the ends that would trail to your thighs. You looked from the dress to Chrollo then back again, stuttering out a quick, “Thank.. you? Sir, I—“

“You don’t have to call me that, you know.”

You stayed silent, head a bit tilted in confusion, “Call you what?”

He nimbly took the dress from its hook, his approach towards you slow, the floorboards underneath him creaking with each hesitant step, “For this mission I’d be best if you called me Chrollo.”

The blush that wracked your cheeks was so prominent it was hard for Chrollo to not pity your embarrassment as you tried to string the syllables of his name together.

His fingers deftly grazed your shoulder as he held up the straps to your collarbone, humming in approval once he saw he’d matched your right size with what he bought, eyes and touch wandering over your skin a bit too long before pulling away, leaving the dress clutched in your hands.

Unwittingly, your eyes flickered towards his lips, indulging in your weakness briefly before looking away and stepping a few feet back, the distance between you far too close for comfort.

“Thank you, bo— Chrollo,” You corrected, trying to stare at anything but him, “I should.. should get going now,” Your grip on his present was tight as you sped past him, the hurry in your steps not lost on him as you fled, a smirk you couldn’t see lacing his face as you scurried away.

The Yul National Treasury was three stories high, five if you counted the two floors of hidden safes tucked into the earth below. You’d seen places that had taken your breath away as you travelled with the spiders, your recon skills making you more suited to this kind of espionage, but the luxury never failed to catch you off guard compared to the conditions you were used to.

This one might leave them all behind. The walls were a peachy stone all lined with silver plating and gilded archways. Balconies were filled with smiling socialites spilling their champagne as they laughed. The entryway was illuminated by hanging lights that draped from window to window, all along the branches and archways. The lights even strung around the armed guard towers clearly manned with machine guns, illuminating the polished weaponry for all to see.

‘You can do this, It’s just a mission,’ You drilled that thought into your head as you toyed with the ends of the pitch fabric.

You had arrived at the venue with Paku, the two of you going your separate ways as she reconvened with Machi, leaving you at the entrance to the party to wait for your boss.

Whenever he himself participated in a mission he sometimes arrived fashionably late, so you weren’t all that concerned. The night was peaceful, a waning moon barely illuminating the dark foliage that surrounded the pathway towards the party and it was easy to get distracted in the lull of the evening.

“You look beautiful,” The voice made your head shoot up, looking to see Chrollo, a soft smile on his face and arm outstretched towards you, “are you ready?”

As you locked one hand around him you clawed your fingernails into the other, desperately hoping the pain would distract your body from the pounding of your chest. The walk to the front door felt longer that it was, your doubts eating away at every inch of your nerves, each step somehow felt inadequate to your self-sabotaging brain.

Before you could follow that rabbit hole any longer you had arrived, the opened doors to the gala manned by about thirty guards, all using normal guns as far as you could tell. Once Chrollo handed one of the soldiers he stepped back, giving his man the go-ahead to let you both through.

If the outside was impressive the interior was even more so, with curved marble staircases leading away from the main ballroom and those same strings of light connecting to the ceiling like webs. The other attendants had clearly dressed to impress, with pearls and expensive silk all bleeding from their gowns and suits. Ironically enough, although both you and Chrollo had worn relatively simple black numbers for the event, the two of you had stolen enough wealth over the years to buy whatever these aristocrats were wearing twenty times over, but none of them suspected a thing.

The silence between the two of you was deafening, especially under the chattering voices of the crowd, only broken when your boss nodded towards your 3 o'clock, “There.”

In the far back of the room was a man wearing a golden coat adorned with countless medals and pins that you suspect he hadn’t actually won, his arms slung around two girls who were both clearly feigning interest in whatever the man had to say.

You recognized him from the debriefing immediately to be Markus Ano, the supreme leader of Yul.

“Go.” Chrollo whispered that last part into your ear, a shiver going down your spine.

Once you were away from your crush it was far easier to keep a clear head, taking a few deep breaths and fully summoning your nen as you strode towards your target.

When you joined the Troupe all those years ago Phinks had joked how your abilities were, in his words, “A man’s worst nightmare.” As soon as you entered the building your En had begun to slowly spread throughout the entire room. In simple terms, once your En had filled a room you could activate your ability on anyone, simple eye contact being all it takes to make them ever-more perceptible to your will. The caveat being that if they looked away from you, your influence over them would slowly fade away.

‘Its effects should be strong enough by now,’ You decided, the distance between you and the leader’s not-so-secret bodyguards disguised as nearby guests growing smaller by the second.

“Hold it,” One of his guards stopped you, his grip tight on your upper arm before slacking as you gave him a doe-eyed look.

“Please sir, I’d love to meet the Supreme leader, if it’s alright?” It was admittedly funny how fast the guard nodded, guiding you gently over to his boss’ side.

The ruler was watching the two of you from his gilded couch, interest piqued as he glowered over your body, “And who might you be?”

You gave him the most polite bow you could, the custom common in Yul, leaving him unabashedly staring at your chest; the gross sensation it inspired in your gut all too familiar to by now. You’re not even sure he heard your fake name when you told him.

Locking your gaze onto his, he was done for, going so far as to shove the two girls off of him, though they didn’t seem unhappy at having an excuse to leave.

“I’m new in Yul, sir, It’s an honor to meet you, I’ve heard so many stories...” The flattery worked like a charm, Ano patting the now empty spot beside him and you were sure not to break a moment of eye contact even as you sat down.

“Tell me, who are you with?” He obviously didn’t recognize you among the crowd of his aristocratic friends.

You gave him a forlorn sigh, nodding your head towards another corner of the room, “My date was the minister of Targon, but he’s gone off somewhere, leaving me all alone...”

“What an idiot he was, then, for leaving a lady like you,” You’d decided your nen had been in effect long enough for you to drop the charade if the lovestruck glaze in his crinkled eyes was anything to go by, merely leaning to briefly whisper your suggestions into his ear to keep up appearances for anyone watching.

“Send your main forces to the west back gate, there’s been a disturbance... but ask for the captain of the guard to meet you by the second left exit, alright?”

“But... what about—“ He must’ve had at least a little mental fortitude to achieve his position, enough to repel your abilities for about three seconds. Not bad for someone who didn’t know about nen.

You slid you hand to his cheek, tilting him forward to look at you, each second making the breathing in his chest more ragged by the second.

As you blew a soft kiss towards Ano it was apparently his breaking point, ripping out his phone and quickly calling up his captain. While your new lapdog was busy barking out your orders into the phone you shrugged off his side, pretending to spot someone among the crowd.

“Oh, there’s my date now! It’s truly been a pleasure, Mr. Ano, thank you for keeping me company, you gave him a quick bow and left your spot on the couch. He was about to call out for you to wait, only to remember he had completely forgotten your name. By the time he’d fallen from your trance you were long gone, one face among many.

Your part had gone off without a hitch, Pakunoda and Machi should be restraining the guard captain any second now. All that was left is for him to spill where the greek play was being kept and it would be up to you and Chrollo to retrieve it.

“Quite a show,” Speak of the devil.

Chrollo took his place in step behind you, a strange energy to him that wasn’t there before, just as you were growing comfortable around him, “Any word from Shal?” You asked.

He shook his head, discreetly checking his earpiece to be sure the device was still on, “Not yet.”

“Well, what should we do in the meantime?” You were only half curious, expecting a simple command to stand by like usual.

Instead he outstretched his hand, the steel of his eyes softer than you’d ever seen before, “Dance with me.”

You blinked, waiting for the punchline, only to be met with silence and an open invitation to the main floor.

“But you...” It was nearly impossible to find the right words with him, each question sounding wrong, “why?”

The corners of his lips tilted into a smile, heat blooming from your chest at the rare, honest sight, “Why not?”

You didn’t trust your voice not to crack so you kept quiet as you slowly took his hand. There was something in the way he carried himself that made your lingering doubts fall away, his confidence infectious as he effortlessly lead you to the floor and let his hand fall to your waist.

“Chrollo, I don’t.. I’m not good at dancing.” Especially not whatever classical number the other guests were a part of.

He chuckled, pulling your hand onto his shoulder, “I’ll teach you,” you gripped the dark fabric of his blazer as a way to steady yourself, the violins escalating over the course of the concerto, “It’s only four steps, just follow my lead.”

He was patient with you, carefully guiding you into a steady pattern, your steps miraculously falling into sync with his. You couldn’t’ve helped the shaky laugh that bubbled from your chest as you slowly got the hang of it, and the proud look on Chrollo’s face just made it more unreal.

It was as if everything else began to melt away like candle wax, the judging socialites, the mission, and even your dedication to keeping your infatuation with Chrollo under wraps. Dancing with him was almost as easy as breathing.

Looking up from between the two of you and moving without his steps for guidance was as much of a reward as it was a mistake.Seeing the look on his face almost made you trip, saving yourself at the last minute from falling backwards. If he noticed your stumble he was kind enough not to mention it. Chrollo was looking at you like you were the only person in the room, his eyes alight and hiding a million things he wouldn’t say just yet. You were too far gone to even try to hide the blush dusting across your face.

It was over all too soon, the gleam in his eyes suddenly focusing into the hardened iron you were used to.

“What is it?” He didn’t answer you right away, guiding the two of you off the dance floor until you began to make your way through the crowd.

“Machi and Paku dealt with the guard, there’s been a change of plans.”

That was never good. “What happened?”

“The Illiad isn’t being kept in any of the vaults. It’s in the Markus Ano’s private study on the fifth floor.” His voice was hushed, a tone only you could hear as he tugged you close to his side, the gravity of the situation all that kept you from focusing too much on that detail.

You cursed, hoping the order Ano sent out on your behalf was enough to get most of the security out of the building so the two of you could get to the study undetected, “Does Shalnark have the upper floor plans or access to the cameras?”

Chrollo repeated your question into his hidden transceiver and nodded back to you after a moment, “He says there’s an unguarded stairway in the east hallway.”

Grinning, you gestured forward, “Lead the way, boss.”

The corridors were thankfully empty as you followed his lead, checking each stairway before heeding whatever directions Shal was feeding into your date’s ear. After walking down a seemingly ordinary hallway on the fifth floor it was hard not to notice the two guards still stationed in front of what you assumed must be the private study. The sound of a pen clicking under Chrollo’s thumb was all it took to tell you to fall back. He’d take them himself.

One of them slapped the other’s shoulder as the two of you approached, barking out some question as they raised their rifles, taking aim when neither of you wasted a response. You made no move to block or dodge, knowing just how capable the head of the spiders could really be.

Before either of them could pull the trigger Chrollo was at their sides, the ballpoint of his pen snug in the left guard’s jugular, simply cracking the other’s neck to avoid a trail of blood. The right one crumbled to the floor and where he once stood your date held out his palm, the worn pages of Bandit’s Secret appearing between his fingertips.

“I’ll summon the Indoor Fish to take care of the bodies. You should look for the book while they work.” You nodded, slipping inside and being sure to shut the door behind you, not wanting to be seen as fair game to conjured carnivores.

Ano’s study was filled with treasures, some framed and some propped on pedestals but all interesting in their own right. Foreign riches stolen or bought lined the shelves like an auction hall catalogue, but none of them resembled what Chrollo was after.

That was, until, you noticed what was sitting open on Markus’ desk.

The pages themselves were frail and peach-toned from age but as you tilted the parchment in the light the gold lining of the edges still shone as brightly as it had a thousand years ago. The bindings themselves were a polished bronze, restored by some professional curator under Ano’s patronage until the golden lettering stood out even in the dim husk of the study.

Curiously, you looked at the page your host had left open, the scene of war and bloodshed depicted in the texts so captivating you barely noticed the sound of the door opening and your date stepping through, Bandit’s Secret nowhere to be seen.

You held up the book for him, smiling once you saw the childlike gleam in Chrollo’s eyes that always shined once he made another conquest, some begotten treasure that he’d cherish for a while before selling it off on the black market. He was like a kid asking for his toy back as he reached to take it from you.

He held the book with a reverence, fingers skimming over the polished gold title, “Remarkable...” He muttered.

You couldn’t help but smile unsteadily, the dance from earlier that night replaying at the forefront of your mind as you asked, “Chrollo?”

“Hm?”

“If you... I mean—” It was an awful feeling whenever you stuttered around your boss. He was always so brilliantly concise, each word perfectly in place; so whenever you were unfortunate enough to trip over your words it made you feel like your faults stood out all the more.

You looked down at your shoes, “I can’t exactly read this language. So would- I mean if you’re not busy...”

He looked up from the play, patient with your nervous disposition, whispering your name in a quiet hush, “What is it?”

Closing your eyes, you forced the sentence out of your throat, “Would you read it to me sometime? The.. play?”

He blinked, briefly silent as he took in your words, and from that you assumed the worst, frantically trying to play off your request with a wave of your hands, “Not- no, sorry, boss— that was weird, I just—“

“—It’s alright,” His voice was so quiet, just barely loud enough for you to hear, “I’d be happy to.”

“Are you sure?” You could barely believe your ears. Chrollo had seemed so unapproachable when you first joined the Troupe, his power in an entire league of its own. Saying you admired him would be putting it lightly. And yet he still gave you the time of day.

Your laugh was as shaky as your heartbeat, half in disbelief and half from joy, having trouble comprehending the warmth that spread down your fingertips and up your neck, dousing your cheeks red. His eyes never left yours, completely enraptured with the effect he had on you.

Your moment together was short-lived as the both of you seized up at the very noticeable sound of loud footsteps from down the hall. The footsteps were in sync, marching towards the room you took refuge in.

‘How did they find out we were here?’ You didn’t have time to speak, thoughts interrupted by the feeling of Chrollo’s hand gripping your wrist, yanking you with him towards the back of the study. He scanned the room quickly before zeroing in on what must’ve been a storage closet, doors revealing a small room stacked with cleaning supplies.

He pulled you inside with a sharp tug, the darkness of the closet overtaking you as he locked it shut behind, suddenly very able to hear even the minutia of his breathing in such close quarters. Luckily you didn’t have to focus on it for long as what sounded like a small squadron of guards entered the study.

“Sir, we insist you stay here until the intruders are dealt with,” Even in darkness the two of you locked eyes after hearing that. Had Paku or Machi been captured? Unlikely, but what else could they mean? “They’re still putting up some resistance at the west gate, it’s not safe yet.”

You recognized the voice that responded, “Come now, It’s my own party! I won’t let a few terrorists ruin my good mood.”

None of the security detail made their way to the back of the study, becoming abundantly clear that whatever they were here for, they weren’t looking for you. The connection between the diversion you’d made up and the events transpiring began to click together in your brain.

“Please, Sir, just stay here for another twenty minutes or so. They clearly weren’t prepared for our assault, we should have them cleaned up soon.” It was almost too hilarious to be true. Had another mercenary company other than the Phantom Troupe descended on Markus’ gala? Chrollo had said he was taunting the entire criminal underground with the event after all, but you had no idea they were going to come from the west gate, it had just been the first direction you thought of.

You scoffed as quietly as you could and it was almost as if Chrollo could see you smile even in the pitch black. “What a coincidence,” You murmured, careful not to speak too loud, “I can’t believe I guessed that right.”

“I should learn to trust your instincts more often then.” He joked, his voice beguiling hush of its former self, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. Your mouth opened and closed but nothing managed to escape, his overwhelming presence in the crowded room growing more apparent by the second.

“What’s wrong?” You weren’t able to answer him for a few seconds, wracking your brain for an answer that wasn’t ‘I want to know what kissing you feels like.’

“N-othin’ boss...” Even you weren’t convinced by that one. He hummed and eventually your eyes began to adjust to the darkness until you could get a clearer look at him. The two of you were as close as you had been when he danced with you what felt like hours ago, noticing how his wide eyes never left yours.

“I thought I told you to call me by my name?” He asked incredulously, a smug smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. For the briefest moment you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flick over to your lips, but you quickly tried to brush it off as a trick of the lighting.

You blinked, “But that’s just for the mission, right?”

“Darling,” It was surprising that he didn’t notice the almost deafening sound of your heartbeat echoing through the confines of the closet, “from now on...”

As he took a step closer you couldn’t move, your legs weak beneath you as he pressed against your trembling frame, one arm keeping you caged against the wall and reveling in the squeak it drew out of you.

“When we’re alone?” His lips hovering his lips over your ear as he breathed the words against your temple, “I want you to call me Chrollo.”

In retrospect, you weren’t thinking clearly before you kissed him. It was like a compulsion, your conscience having no say over your fingers as you pulled him to your lips by the lapels of his suit. Despite all your screaming nerves and lingering doubts you somehow felt that if you didn’t do this now he could slip through your fingers again.

For all the years you’ve known your leader this was the first time you’d seen him stunned into silence, your impulsive confidence starting to backfire on your own brain.

You hastily shoved yourself away from him, shame pooling in your gut as you scrambled to apologize, “Chrollo, I’m- Fuck, I’m so sorry I wasn’t thinki—“

He cut you off by cupping his hand over your mouth, backing you further into the wall. Your boss raised a finger to his lips, shushing you with such a fond expression it actually helped you calm down. Tilting his raven hair to the door, he gestured to the guards outside who thankfully didn’t hear your hushed outburst.

“You’re terrified, aren’t you?” That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting him to say but you hesitantly nodded nonetheless.

Chrollo’s grip on your mouth went slack, his fingertips running over the plush of your lips, “Why?”

“I’m scared that I’m crossing a line.”

It was the simplest way you could put it, your words hanging undisturbed in the air for a few moments before he could respond, “If that’s what you believe, then I’ll cross it myself.”

In the blink of an eye he’d trapped one hand in your hair, the other pulling you close by your waist and into a suffocating kiss. His lips were warmer than you thought they’d be but just as soft as you imagined; turning you into a petrified mess beneath him, brain short circuiting as his tongue held on to yours.

You pulled away first as the stinging in yours lungs became too much to bear. As you tried to catch your breath you saw his expression, eyes dilated and lips slightly stained with the color of your lip tint.

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked up at him as best you could in the darkness, “So does this mean you like me too?”

“Christ,” He pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, frustration lacing the way he said your name, “How could I make myself clearer?”

It was possible he could see the blush you were wearing even in the black lighting of the closet from how hot it spread. When he kissed you again there wasn’t a shred of hesitation or self-doubt left to overthink, his confession ringing in your head like the sweetest music you’ve ever heard. It wasn’t like any timid kiss of a new relationship, it was eager, raw, and long overdue.

His knee found its way between your legs, the friction everything you’d been craving and more, keening moans devoured by his lips before they could reach outside the closet door.

“Wait.. Chrollo, stop,” He froze, eerily still with an unreadably tense look on his face.

The voice that had been so laced with desire only a minute ago was gone, “Are you alright?”

“Wha- No, I-I’m fine, we just can’t do this here.”

He blinked in an owlish way that you’d call cute if he wasn’t being so flippant, “Why not?”

“What do you mean ‘why not?’” You hissed, pointing to the door and the entourage that awaited you beyond it.

You felt his lips curve into a smirk against your cheek, angling your jaw up until he spoke in a whisper, his hushed breath against your skin sending another wave of heat to your gut, “If they interrupt us,” Chrollo’s grip grew tighter, snapping you forward and forcing you to look at him, “I’ll kill them.”

“But... what about the escape plan? If they hear us—” He clicked his tongue and the hand that had been resting on your waist dipped between your legs, cupping you harshly through the black fabric of the dress, clasping your hand over your mouth to staunch the sharp whimper it brought out.

“Then you should try to stay quiet.” He led a trail of kisses down the curve of your neck, smiling as he felt you begin to relax under his grip, eyes fluttering open and shut from his touch.

He pulled his hand away, bunching the satin of your dress up your thighs until his fingertips ran along the soaked material of your panties.

“So wet for me, Darling,” It was all you could do to keep your voice down as he slipped his fingers under the waistline of the fabric, his breathing uneven as he toyed with the soft heat of your cunt, hovering kisses over your collarbone but keeping his gaze on yours as he asked, “how long have you thought about this? Thought about me?”

“A few months-ah—!” You were barely able to cover your squeak in time as he bit down on the vulnerable flesh.

“Liar.”

He read you like a book. At your juvenile silence that followed his remark he just sighed and started pulling his hand away, the absence of his fingertips on your clit enough to burn away what shame you had left.

Screwing your eyes shut, you caved, “Since I joined the Troupe!” He paused at your hushed outburst, lips parted in what might’ve actually been surprise as you melted into his touch, “I’ve wanted you for years, Chrollo.”

“That long...” The blissful pressure on your clit was back and you would’ve doubled over if it weren’t for his grip holding you down. Your eyes were still shut so it took you by surprise as his next words sounded further away than the last, “I’ll have to apologize for keeping you waiting.”

Opening your eyes to see the leader of the Phantom Troupe on his knees in front of you, pulling your ruined garments down your legs with a starving glint in his irises was a sight you’d never forget. Not to be outdone when he ran his tongue along your lips, biting into your palm to hold back the whine of your voice.

“Fuck,” He cursed, a rarity for your composed boss and the raspy tremor of it only made your legs widen. His eyes flickered to your trembling legs that didn’t seem to be capable of supporting your weight any longer, an imaginary lightbulb flicking above the darkened room.

With an unnerving kind of strength he hooked his hand under your leg and locked it around his head, becoming all too aware of the heat of his breath against the soft curve of your thigh, settling it comfortably on his shoulder.

“You’re shaking,” He observed, lining a row of chaste kisses along the plush skin, “are you still nervous, Darling?”

Both of you knew he was wrong, and he proved it by leaning further closer to the ache between your legs, tongue prodding at your sensitive clit, “Or are you just that desperate for me?”

“—Chrollo, please,” The growl in your throat was almost enough to catch him off guard, lightly banging the back of your head against the wall out of bratty frustration, “For once in your life, shut up.”

He laughed faintly against your cunt, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your stomach, before intoning a delicate, “As you wish.”

The first drag of his tongue had your back arching against the closet’s wall, the needy sigh he groaned against you sending another tide of heat into your bloodstream. He wasn’t as careful with you now, pace quickly overwhelming as his hands dug future bruises into your malleable flesh.

Your lungs hated being cooped up by your hand as you tried to stay quiet, a few honeyed pleas falling from your palm. There was a part of you still vacantly panicking at the compromising position you were in, the thought that one wrong move would be all it took to have the guards outside breaking down the door. You weren’t scared of them, god no, you were a member of the Phantom Troupe, a few armed guards would be useless against you. That still didn’t mean you necessarily wanted an entire squadron of soldiers seeing you at your most vulnerable, coming undone at Chrollo’s sinful touch.

Dark strands of hair carded through your fingers as you basked in his attention, the warming knot in your stomach ever closer to snapping. His free hand dipped below the one supporting your thigh and carefully slipped two fingers inside you, curling them up and smiling at your muffled cries.

The reality of the situation was almost overwhelming, the desperation in your grip eased when he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking the bud between his teeth. Your chest was heaving with the effort to keep still and silent even under his torture.

“Shit, Chrollo,” You whined lowly.

“Hm? What is it, love?” The new nickname was enough to make you crumble.

Even though it pained you to do so you wrenched his face away, nerves outraged at your body’s decisions. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but the stunning view of Chrollo Lucilfer, one of the most dangerous men in the entire world, below you with lips shiny and wet with your slick, was definitely giving you a power trip.

Summoning up what courage you had left, you shut your eyes and whispered, “Chrollo, Please just fuck me already.”

He didn’t move for a second, eyes black with want, but before you could beg any further he’d already rose to stand over you again while he made quick work of his belt. The clinking of metal was far too loud for your predicament but it wasn’t long before you were forgetting all about the assault team waiting outside. Once he unzipped his pants low enough to free himself from his briefs it was hard to think about anything else.

Without much effort he held your waist up to his own with one hand and lined himself between you with his other; not even his unshakeable resolve enough to completely stifle a groan as you eagerly wrapped your legs around him, trapping him closer.

He hissed as you dragged your aching walls down his cock and your pupils flared at the strained moan hot against your ear, “Look at yourself, Darling. Such a fragile little thing for me, so eager to have me inside of you...” His words trailed off as the he softly ground the leaking head of his cock onto your puffy clit.

“You’ve got quite the crush on me, haven’t you?” Chrollo’s kisses turned sharp as he bit along your shoulder and up the trembling climb of your neck.

The pleas you babbled were half illegible, teeming with an unbearable desire you’d kept dormant for years finally earning its due. As he began to push into you he took your lips in his, hiding each of your whorish moans in his mouth.

It was almost surreal. You’d fantasized about this moment on and off for so long that to finally feel him pull your hips closer and stifle a groan into your tongue was shooting sparks down your spine. You eventually had to break away for air, panting madly as you rest on the wall for balance.

“Chr...oh-ah, shit, feels so good, Chrollo,” You whimpered, tucking your head onto his shoulder

When he said your name you almost came then and there, a vulnerable need in his voice you hadn’t heard before as he whispered it like gospel, “Goddamnit..”

You couldn’t wait for him any more, locking your thighs around him and drawing him flush with your waist as he audibly choked from the wet plush of your cunt. It stung for a moment but after ripping off that band-aid all you felt was full.

He couldn’t stop himself at that point, digging bruises into your thighs as he shallowly rut his hips against yours and tugged you down the wall to take you deeper.

Trying to regain his composure, he evened out his thickly voice and hushed soft praise into your ear, “Do you feel that, love? Feel me here?” He accentuated his words by curving one hand down to your stretched pussy, his palm intentionally pressing down on your abdomen as he curled precise circles onto your clit.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt, the moan it brought falling far too loud from your kiss-bitten lips. With a jolt of his wrist his hand was pressed against your mouth, head tilted towards the door.

“Wh.. Ivon, did you hear that?” A voice spoke from outside, and your heart fell into your stomach.

Blood was pounding in your ears as you waited for the guard’s response, eyes tearing up while mentally kicking yourself over the slip up.

The man who you could reasonably assume to be Ivon replied, “Yeah? James was just talking about the one of the guests. Did you hear somethin’ else?”

“No, I just thought I..” The guard trailed off, voice already muffled through the wood of the door.

Your eyes snapped open, glaring at Chrollo as he began to move your hips back onto his. Despite the nervous tremor that still wracked your core you couldn’t help but take a kind of sick pleasure in it. The fear of your enemies finding you was exhilarating your twitching body in a way you couldn’t imagine. Sparks caressed your body as he dragged himself inside you, igniting a fiery need in his wake

He watched your muffled reactions with a cheshire grin, pleased to no end. His lips were parted from the friction, sweat beading under the cloth of his bandages, the lewd clap of skin on skin echoing faintly through the storage closet. You might’ve been a mess for him but the way his skin was flushed and his breathing stuttered as he snapped into you was enough to tell that he was close. You keened against his fingers, clenching tight around him and taking in the enticing way he shuddered.

Whatever cries you tried to make were gagged by his hand as he rubbed circles along your clit with the other. All at once the wall felt like it crumbled to dust behind you as you pulled him as close as It was the final push you needed to come undone, spasming and screaming into his hand as he left wet kisses along your neck.

Through the haze of your orgasm you couldn’t feel Chrollo take his hand off your mouth to dig his fingertips into your hips, desperately chasing his own release.

You heard him stifle each breathy curse and harsh groan into your neck, the oversensitivity enough to have you crying out from the numbingly hot friction. His teeth found solace in your jugular as he came, eyes pinched while he finished inside you, choking out the last fragments of his pleasure against your racing pulse.

It took you about two seconds before you realized what you’d done.

“Wait, what the— fuck?” A different voice said, the distinct sound of a magazine clipping into its holster echoing from beyond the closet.

Before you could panic Chrollo was pushing his index finger to your lips, a soft shush from your boss all it took to make you realize everything would be fine.

“I kne- hey James, get over here!” Ivon shouted, several pairs of boots crowding towards the closet door.

He set you carefully down to the ground, pressing an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead before collecting his bearings.

“This won’t take long, love.” He assured, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear. Chrollo hadn’t actually taken any of his clothes off, something you resolved to change the next time you did this, and was already tucking himself back into his pants and brushing down his clothes to look at least semi-presentable.

“Whoever the fuck is in there, get out here now. This area is off-limits to guests!” You scoffed from your spot on the floor, a blissed out smile on your face as you enjoyed the afterglow.

Chrollo feigned innocence as he answered, cautious to keep your exposed body out of their sight as he cracked open the door, “I’m coming out, there’s no need to panic..”

From where you sat you saw him summon Bandit’s Secret in the hand still obscured by doorway, flicking to a particularly nasty ability. You almost felt sorry for Ano and his guards. Almost.

As you began hunting down you underwear the sounds of deafening screams filled the next room, the splatter of gore and thump of fallen limbs all too recognizable sounds in your line of work. You just managed to snatch your panties off the ground right before the steadily increasing pool of blood managed to reach it, the red stream trickling from the study.

You pulled your look together, trying to fan down the mess of your hair as much as possible before Chrollo opened the door again, not a single drop of red visible on his suit.

Both Markus Ano and his guards had all been split into pieces, their organs hacked by the unknown energy in one of your boss’ many stolen hatsu and you found yourself having a hard time matching together Ano’s face with the rest of his torso. They all looked the same at this point.

“Well this sucks. How are we gonna get out of this?” You echoed, tiptoeing around the carnage to not get your new heels dirty.

Chrollo chuckled, holding out his arm just like he did earlier that night. It was easy taking it this time, none of the hesitance from before. As he led you past the doorway and into the still-empty hallway he explained, “There was an attack on the Yul treasury tonight but they don’t know we were ever here. If we don’t claim to anything I’m sure some rebel faction will take credit soon enough.”

As you two wove your way down the hallways you weren’t even stopped by the guards who rushed upstairs at the sounds of screaming. To them it must’ve been impossible for two bloodless aristocrats to be the culprits, as by then you’d managed to blend your way into the crowd of confused guests. The party was as lively as you left it, the band playing a particularly triumphant melody as you escaped.

You almost scoffed as you walked out the front door, each guard none the wiser that their leader was currently littered across his study in chunks because of you; none of them even recognized the ten billion dollar play tucked safely under your arm. But you couldn’t blame them. After all, your attention wasn’t on the book either, but on the man beside you, completely enraptured by even the slightest smile on his face.

He might’ve had a good point earlier. You do have quite the crush on him.

part one. the beginning of your deal.

part two. after a mission, a group of spider-people come back bruised and for the most part injured, all including a seemingly unbothered miguel. miguel offers a first spanish lesson, one that ends with the reminder of something in return—i wonder where your new home is…

part three. after an interesting morning with miguel, you learnt a few more spanish words, not to be late, and having him in close proximity might give you a heart attack. your mind certainly wandered when you were monitoring a mission, the spider peoples’ bickering making you feel annoyed, an emotion miguel unwillingly likes the look of on you. but how does he feel when he makes his request… asking you to follow him to a door you didn’t think you’d ever pass through?

part four. when you’re left alone in the tech room, many spiders out on missions, something unexpected happens. when miguel finds out his face falls and his claws twitch in anger. after the incident, you find miguel walking down the hall, calling to him he asks you questions, and you offer your help with something.

part five. miguel gives you shocking news. and as you go to head home you end up in a different universe, meeting some spider kid, leaving miguel and the rest of them to worry and search for you.

part six. after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.

part seven. you wanted to know what those spanish sentences miguel made you say meant, him having kept that to himself. and when you do, having scouted miles, you’re left…well…shocked. your friends are also left shocked wondering who asked you to say those things. when you go to question miguel about it you find him in a state you’ve never seen him in before.

part eight. miguel’s hand raises to…what? you don’t know, because the spider society’s alarm bell is ringing. mayhem, fire, fights…masked men. you only want to help. when miguel confronts you about your ‘help’ clearly displaying anger and well…worry, something unexpected happens…you both getting as close as you did before…maybe closer?

part nine (ending part). god, was his touches something else. the feel of him and the feel of you. miguel finally gets to have you. and would you look at that…you’ve all formed a little plan to get rid of the masked men once and for all.

‘el trato universe’ HC/blurbs:

hobie being platonically!jealous of miguel stealing you away

Eyes wide, you step closer. Is he in pain? Is he hurt? "Miguel. I just want to help. Did something happen?" 

All he does is shake his head, unable to make eye contact with you. "I c-can't let you… please, bichita. It's not safe for you."

Your heart breaks at his helplessness, you get closer, and perch on the bed next to him. He jumps at the hand you place in his shoulder. Fuck. He's drenched in sweat. 

"Miguel, please. Let me in… I'd do anything. Just let me help."

He groans with his head in his hands. "I know, bichita. That's the problem. I can't let you…"

You look at him properly now. He's writhing on the sheets, tense and unable to sit still. Guiltily, all you can think is how good he looks; pretty even when his hair sticks to the nape of his neck, when he groans lowly at your presence. Your eyes rake down his body, looking for a secret wound, or something he's hiding. When you spot it, you gasp. 

Miguel is rock hard under his sweats. And he is massive. 

It clicks. Ashamed, he makes hesitant eye contact with you. "It's not usually this bad. And it gets worse if I'm near someone I'm…" He breathes. "Someone I'm attracted to."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement; of the situation. "I think that's just what erections do, Miggy." 

He rolls his eyes, too annoyed to be as uneasy for a moment. " No , God, I meant my DNA. There's something wrong with me, something animalistic , that makes it ten times worse. I'm going crazy. Smell, taste, touch… and it doesn't just go away. "

You hum. "And what's your hypothesis?" 

He looks at you, a little crazed, but he gets it. If you talk to him like it's one of your status reports, like it's another mission, maybe he can stop thinking about pounding you into the sheets and filling you up with his cum. 

He clears his throat. " You . Gets worse when I t-think about you, or you're near."

You've got a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles that go straight to his head. 

"What makes it feel better?" 

Deep breath. "Touching myself. But I haven't… and I won't-" 

"Why?" You smile like a Cheshire cat. Are you… enjoying this? 

"I can't. You're a friend and it's a violation of your trust."

"It hurts. You're in pain. I give you full permission to give yourself some relief. You can touch yourself, for me. I want you to feel good."

His hips buck up involuntarily. Just thinking about it is driving him crazy. " Mierda. Stop talking like that-" 

"Like what?" You bat your eyelashes. 

"Like that ." He hisses. "Like you want to get fucked."

He squeezes his eyes shut, even more guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not appropriate at all. I shouldn't have… snapped like that."

You rub your legs together: you're fucking soaked. Like this, with his senses going crazy, you don't know if he can smell it, taste it in the air. The thought makes you even wetter. 

You mumble. "Meant it, Miguel. I just want to watch."

Agonisingly slow, you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches, eyes wide, trying not to lean into it. 

"Do you want me to beg? Because I will, if it makes you feel better." 

He grabs his crotch, rocking into his palm. You're breaking him down, bit by bit. 

"I think you like punishing yourself, Miggy. You think you deserve it. How long have you been like this? Weeks, I bet. When all you needed to do was ask me. I would've helped you over the phone if you wanted it. Told you how to stroke your cock, where to put pressure, asked you if it felt good. Think about how good it would feel. The relief. "

You rock on your heel and it doesn't go unnoticed. You light him on fire, and the thought of you getting off only pushes him closer to the edge. "Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper. He nods fervently. "I've always wanted you in my mouth. Just wanted to know what it would feel like; how pretty you'd look when you cum."

It's too much. His back arches, and he groans, spilling into his sweats. Astounded, you look up. So. Much. Cum. You didn't think a person could physically produce so much, but here he is, coating the inside of his boxers with it. Miguel, however, looks embarrassed: his first orgasm in a week and it's spilling into his trousers in front of a pretty girl like a teenager. He groans, covering his flushed face. 

"Can I…?" Your eyes are wide in amazement. Shakily, he nods. 

Is it bad for you to say he looks just like you imagined? Tan, long and with a bit of girth, and under all the cum he seems well-groomed. He's still half hard, which is impressive considering the sheer amount of cum splattered everywhere. Probably, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. As you pull down his boxers, your very obvious glee makes him pause. 

"...you like this?" He seems genuinely confused, and it makes you giggle. You've flustered him, yet again. 

Resting a head on his thigh, you look up at him through innocent lashes. Your other hand swipes cum off his tip, making his cock jump. "Could ask you the same. You're still hard." 

"I can't believe…" He mutters. "You're gonna kill me." 

"What do you want, Miguel?" You put a hand on his length, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. "You want to get off?" 

"I want…" It makes him grunt all the same. He goes from wayward glances to looking you straight in the eyes. " You . I want you." 

"How do you want me?" Deceptively innocent, you coax his length back to full mast with your hand. 

How do you want me? There are a thousand thoughts flying through his head, and his brows tense with the weight of them. Head back, he leans into your touch. He doesn't want to scare you, with the way he's been thinking about that question long before you asked: weeks, months, years before now. You see him hesitate, and bite his lip.

Your hands still and he cries out, cursing the loss of warmth. "M'not asking again." A little softer now. "No judgement, Miggy. I just want to help." 

Deep breath. "Anyway I can. Wanna fill you up with my cum. On top. U-Underneath. Mierda. I want your mouth. I want your sweet cunt. I-" 

You silence him with a moan when you envelope his cock with your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss as you bob up and down. Just the tip, teasing , and he's already addicted. With a pop, you separate, pressing sticky kisses and kitten-licks to his shaft and torso. He can't take his eyes off of you: peeking up at him through wispy lashes, licking up his cum. 

Pretty, plump lips smack at his tip obscenely. He can't help but think about how well it suits you; mouth around his cock like something holy.  Precum pours from his slit and you lap it up, chasing his moans. Your own moans vibrate deliciously around him and he wraps a hand in your hair. Finally. You want him to enjoy this, to lean into your head-bobbing, and force your head down onto his dick. You want to feel him in the back of your throat, bullying into the warmth of your mouth and moulding you into the shape of him. 

It starts with a little pressure at the back of your neck, deceptively subtle as he rocks his hips into your face. Making eye contact, you look up and feel your pussy clench around nothing. His eyes are lidded, gorgeous, mouth slightly parted and tongue darting out to wet rosy lips. 

"You want it, hermosa ?" His voice has a different texture to it: deep and wanting and needy. 

As best you can, you nod, humming affirmations around his cock. Oh God, of course you do. You want him; anyway you can, anyway he'll let you, more than he'll ever know. 

He pushes you down, hard, cock hitting the back of your throat like a piston. You gurgle and choke around him, throat tightening in a way that makes him melt. You force yourself deeper, hot tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your hands claw at his thighs, nails digging so tight into the fabric you think he might bleed. Winding a hand down to your heat, you press your palm into that sweet spot at your clit and Miguel watches, hungry. 

"Oh fuck , you feel so good. I'm gonna– m-mierda – m'gonna cum."

With a final tug, he pushes you down so your nose brushes at the curly hairs leading down to his cock, spilling into you with vigour. It pours down your throat and you drink it up with pleasure. 

"All gone?" He asks, panting with exertion. In response, you open up your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue so he can inspect it. He stirs when he realises just how cock drunk you are: nary a trace of him left on your tongue.

Slowly, he brings a thumb to your mouth, and watches intently as you swirl it around, and suck on it keenly. The pressure makes him light headed, other hand reaching for your waist to pull you up. And pull you up he does, turning you around so he can take off your suit and have you seated on his lap, where you belong. 

You let him, shrugging off the top half of the suit as he pulls down your zipper. Surprisingly gentle, he traces the slope of your shoulders, and down to your bare ass. He groans. No underwear, because of course , you want to kill him. You want him to die, pussy-whipped and half-hard. He pushes you towards the wall, back pressed flush against him. He drags his fangs across your neck and whispers into the shell of your ear, making your whole body shiver. 

"Once I start," He kneads your ass, grinding his cock against you. You gasp. He's still hard. "M'not gonna be able to stop. And it's not going to be sweet, bichita . You leave now and I won't be angry . I–I'll give you space, whatever you want."

" Miguel," Head back, you moan into his touch, dragging his hand towards your slit, hoping he’ll relieve the pressure at your pussy. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel it tomorrow– fuck– f-feel it when I walk and know it was you . Need it. Need you , please-" 

He bites into your shoulder, and you moan wantonly, back arching into his length. He places your hand on the wall, palms flat. Like the chaser after a burning shot, he soothes haphazard squeezes down your back with his mouth. Hot, messy kisses, as he sinks to his knees. He forces you to hinge at the hip.  Breasts pushed against the cool wall, you gasp when you feel him spread the globes of your ass as he presses his tongue to your hole. He licks the length of your slit, and like a slut, you lean into it. 

"Prettiest cunt I've ever seen, hermosa." He brings his hand to your clit, giving you a wet slap as he watches you shudder. Again, and again, until you cry out. 

" Miguel, fuuuck." 

How has he gone his whole life without hearing you say his name like that? Yet again, he almost cums in his pants, loosely shoved over his aching length. All he can do is watch as your holes flutter and clench around nothing, mesmerised. 

"You'd look even prettier filled with my cum, hmm?" He presses a sticky kiss to your puckered asshole, before easing his tongue inside. One hand holding you open, the other comes to play with your pussy, swirling your wetness around your throbbing clit. 

He tongue-fucks you with fervour, like a man starved: only coming up for air to babble obscenities. 

"Tan bonita, bichita." Slowly, he eases his fingers into your cunt, scissoring them open and shut. He wants to break you apart with only his hands, if you'd let him. "So pretty– fuck. So soft, baby. Beautiful."

You're close and he knows it, fucking yourself on his fingers and face like a bitch in heat. Undeterred, he brings a thumb to your clit pressing down with juust the right amount of pressure. 

"Wanna feel it, hermosa . Can you cum for me? All over my fingers like a good girl, just like that, así de simple."

With the way he paws at your pussy, all you can do is clench around his fingers. He guides you through a shaking, biting orgasm, licking up your cum with a flourish. Even with shaky legs you manage to turn around and pull Miguel up, and he follows eagerly. He looks fucked out already, eyes low and lips swollen with your slick. He motions to strip, stretching his tank top across the expanse of his chest and letting his cock spring free from his sweats. When you move to help him, he stops you, moving your hand from his tank to his solid torso beneath. He wants you to touch him; to feel your soft palm run across his skin, and sink into the warmth of your body. 

One hand at your waist, he presses you against the wall, grinding his cock to your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and they fit like they belong there. Close, impossibly close, and his pupils are blown, wide. It's like he can't decide what he wants to do to you, sharp red eyes darting over your lips, your neck, down to the juncture where you both meet. A paralysis of choice, and all he can do is drink you up in the low light. 

And so, you make a choice for him, lips crashing against his, hand snaking around to guide his cock into your hole. He sinks into you - finally - and you swallow his moans in the aftermath. He's slow to start, eyes screwed shut as he gets used to how tight you are around him. Slowly, he rocks into you, the heat of his palm steady at the crook of your back. 

Miguel opens his eyes, caging you in with his other arm. He's testing the waters, angling his hips to find the spot that makes you tick.

"I didn't-" He breathes. "Didn't think it would be like this." 

You look at him in your haze, brows knitted. 

"I thought that when I finally fucked you, it would be more romantic." He gives you a strained chuckle and warm smile. "This is better in some ways, though." 

"Better , Miggy?" 

"Real." Your cunt flutters around him, and his pace stutters. Not once does he break eye contact, something swirling beneath the surface. "Not in my head. God , that sounds pathetic."

You giggle into the crook of his shoulder. It shouldn't be possible, but his eyes soften even more. And then, his expression changes into something dangerous. 

"I can't do this just once, bichita. You can't give me a taste and then take it away. Es cruel, mi vida."

As if to punctuate his point, you feel his tip slam into that spongy spot in your walls. His strokes become more calculated, punishing and exact, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body. 

"Miguel – fuck– that's not fair- " 

"Can't keep humping my hand como un perro , like a dumb dog, anymore." He brings both his palms to your ass, spreading you apart, and pulling you up onto his dick so your toes barely touch the floor. The slap of your ass against his thighs and heavy balls fill the room, pornographic in nature. 

"Let-" Smack. " Me-"  Smack. " Fill-" Smack. " This-" Smack. " Cunt. " Smack. 

You babble into his ears, affirmations and praise that makes his heart and cock swell. 

'So pretty, Miguel. Yours. All yours." You rake your hands through his hair, harshly tugging him closer in a way that makes him burn up. Clenching around his length, you wrap your legs around his waist. He barely falters, pulling away from the wall and slamming into you regardless. You've seen him like this before; fiery determination that flares up on a tough mission. Tunnel vision: a razor-sharp resolve that has manifested itself in a man hellbent on your pleasure. 

"Miguel. Miguel, I-" I love you, I love you, I love you, I- " -wan' you to cum with me. Deep, please."

Now, his pace gets sloppy, hips stilling to drive himself as deep as you asked; so you can feel him long after you separate. Hot, sticky cum pumps into you and his balls strain with the effort of it. You claw your hand against his back, trailing delicious marks with your nails. When you clamp around him, you swear you see his eyes roll back - lost in the bliss of your cunt. Together, you come down from the high, bare chests panting against one another. 

"Don't look at me like that." His lips graze yours, soft and plush. You stretch your chin upwards, chasing the trace of a kiss he refuses to give to you. Eventually he relents, leaning into a sweet kiss, arm wrapped around your waist. 

He pulls himself off of you with a wet smack, gently carrying you to his bed. He places you in his sheets and you look beautiful, blissful, and fucked out. Cum drips onto your thighs and he feels a pang of possessiveness. His cum. His baby.

Clambering in to spoon you, he can't help but paw at your pussy, using his fingers to stuff his cum back into you, tracing lazy circles on your thigh with his other hand. 

"I'm on birth control, Miggy. So no need to worry." You snuggle into his touch, bare skin against one another. 

"Wasn't worried." He grunts, sounding almost disappointed. You catch his tone, intrigued.

"No harm in trying," You lilt, turning around to place your palms flat on the wide span of his chest. "You wanna fuck a baby into me?" 

Nodding, he groans, head back into the pillow, and you push him onto his back. Pussy throbbing, you straddle his hips; thighs tight around his middle. You can feel him growing harder in the slick of your slit. 

You arch into him, tender hand around his throat. It's a sight he won't forget easily: you on top of him, the gloom of the night tracing the swell of your tits. An angel, all the same. You whisper something into his ear that gives him goosebumps; a full body chill that goes straight to his cock. "My turn, bichito."

~~~

"You never called." Miguel says, laying his head next to yours, after wiping you down with a clean towel. He hands you a spare shirt of his, and you put it on, self-conscious. 

The two of you had fucked well into the night, making good on your promises. His stamina was relentless, pumping load after load into you, pussy-drunk and babbling. There was an intensity there that couldn't be explained: one that made both of you crazy for one another, burning you out between the silky sheets of his bed. Something you had initially attributed to his rut, whatever he had called it, but desperately hoped it was something more. How could this be just sex? After everything you had said and done, it would crush you: to taste the forbidden fruit and have it snatched away just as easily. 

You had both laid there for a bit, afterwards, cock softening in you. Plugging up his cum, he had said, but it felt more intimate in the quiet calm of his bedroom. 

"You didn't either." You throw back at him. 

"That's not th-" 

"I know, I know. It just felt weird, s'all." You turn from him, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the mottles and marks in your head, suddenly shy. After all the filthy things you've said and done to him, he still makes you shy. "I thought I did something wrong."

His heart breaks. "No, no , it wasn't-" 

"Not just today. Last time…a-and the time before that, honestly. We see each other less. You're always busy with something. Felt like you were avoiding me." Rubbing your temples, you sigh. "S'why I cut some corners on the mission. Made mistakes. I thought if I did well, and we had something to talk about…"

"Mierda." You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see the disappointment in his scarlet eyes. But it isn't disappointment, and it’s not directed at you. 

"I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because I didn't think you would answer." Finally, you turn to see his brows knitted: swirling with shame, guilt, sadness. Quickly you add, "I mean, I know why now. I think. And it's really on me, I should've said something or-" 

"I just… I didn't know what to do with it." He takes your hand in his, squeezing tight. 

"...I don't understand."

"All this love I have for you." He says, impossibly soft. "I didn't know what to do with it."

You know him like the back of your hand and you've heard it all: angry, snarky, giddy, beautiful Miguel O'Hara. But this? Confirmation of the feelings you've held for years at this point, dismissed during late nights and pored over during lonely ones - this? 

"And I didn't think you felt the same way, how could you? You're beautiful, and smart, and you have this… way of making people burn as bright as you. So I poured myself into work. That's all I know how to do, bichito. Work. Suffocate under everything. You don't deserve it."

With the way he says it; resigned, matter-of-fact; you want to cry. Still, he hangs on to the notion that he must earn it : that his claws are too sharp and fangs too bloody for redemption. For love, for life, for good things. Miguel O'Hara; doing what needs to be done. Alone, always. 

You come closer to cup his chin, to make sure he's looking at you. There can be no ambiguity, no gray area when you say what you want to say. 

"You don't tell me what to do, O'Hara . " You press a kiss to his cheek, and another to trembling lips. "I decide what I deserve. No-one else does, not even you."

"It's not like you listen to me, anyway." He says with a shaky smile. 

Sitting up slightly on your forearms, you place your head up on his chest. Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart. You don't need your super senses to know that he's alive, that he's here. The look in his eyes; you couldn't explain it if you wanted to. 

"Bichita." You say, out of the blue. No doubt due to your poor pronunciation, he winces. "What does it mean?" 

Clicking his tongue, he waves it off. " Very vulgar, you don't want to know. I mean, I shouldn't really-"

"Hmm." Shaking your head, you feign ignorance. "It's just that Lyla said it meant sweetheart, or little bug... terms of endearment, I think was the phrase."

"She said that?" He frowns. "Lyla's filling your head with nonsense, m'afraid. It's sarcastic. Post-ironic, metatextual… it comes across completely different in Spanish, mi vida."

"Post-ironic? That's not even the second most pretentious thing you've said today…" Giggling, you bury your head into his chest. 

"Of course not. I reserve my best stuff for you."

"Real classy, O'Hara. Bet you say that to all the poor women that end up in your bed."

"Nope." He hums. "Just the ones I've been in love with for the past two years."

He pulls you closer, smiling into light kisses on your shoulder, the fat of your stomach, your thighs, on your cheek. Kisses everywhere, anywhere he can reach.

"Just you, bichita." He breathes into your skin. "Only you ."

_

_

_

The mission had gone haywire.

You were being tugged behind your leader, Miguel O'Hara. One of the villains had blasted the two of you with some form of gas. You both ran as fast as you could trying to get somewhere safe. Both of you had inhaled mass amounts of the gas.

Miguel shot a wet swinging away, holding you tight against his side. You coughed trying to catch your breath. You threw one of your smoke bombs you had around your waist trying to help the two of you escape. He landed on a wall in an alley way. He covered your mouth, gesturing for you to keep quiet. You watched as the villain ran right past where you were hiding.

Once the villain was completely out of sight, you both sighed. Miguel's hands went to the sides of his head in frustration. He growled, angry with what had happened. You stood with you back against the wall in silence. He paced in a circle, huffing and grumbling to himself.

"Miguel...?"

He snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He reached for you, cupping your cheek. You fell into his touch, "Yes. Doesn't seem like that gas did anything to me. You?" He shook his head, "I feel normal. Let's get back to the base. We can get a quick scan done there."

The two of you snuck back to the base, being careful and as quiet as possible. You both had scans ran on your bodies, everything was normal. You stood in a vacant hallway together, no masks. Frustration painted Miguel's expression. You placed your hand on his arm, "Hey, it's okay. We can try again tomorrow."

Your touch burned against his skin.

A loud sigh left him, "You-You're right. It's late anyway. We should both get some sleep." His hand ran down your arm. Your skin immediately ignited. Your face flushed with heat at such a simple gesture. Your mouth ran dry. You were unsure what this feeling you had was. "Goodnight, Y/N," he walked past you. It was like you could smell him. Your senses were going crazy. For some reason they all pooled deep in your stomach.

You rushed to your quarters. You laid on your bed still in your suit. Your body burned. It felt like your suit was stuck to you. You pried it off throwing it onto the floor. You did not know what came over you. You never felt this way about Miguel. But all you could think about was him pinning you against the bed and ravishing you. You began to sweat. You ran your hand through your hair. Your heart rate was in your throat.

What the hell is happening?

Heat rushed down your body. Leaving you completely soaking through your panties. You swallowed heavy. You could not figure out what was happening. Your Spider-Sense was going crazy. You wanted to pry the rest of your clothes off you.

What is going on?

Your breathing kicked up. It was like you could feel every particle in the air on your skin and you hated it. You ran into your bathroom and splashed water on your face. All that did was worsen the feeling. You fanned your face. No matter what you tried the feeling was only growing worse. Miguel was the only thing on your mind. You thought about his broad chest. How strong his shoulders looked. His fangs that only showed when he was truly mad. His clawed hands. You wanted to see more of him. You wanted him inside you.

It had to be whatever you got sprayed with earlier. Maybe Miguel could help you understand?

No- NO! You could not go to him feeling like this. But you had to. He was your leader. He always knew how to fix your problems. You covered yourself with a robe and hurried over to his quarters.

Hesitation washed over you when you got to his door.

What if he was ashamed of you like this? What if he made fun of you? What if-

His door opened. Your eyes shot up at him. His eyes were glowing with the light from the hallway. He wore nothing but his boxers, hunched slightly in the doorway before you. Heavy shoulders painted his figure. Deep breaths fell from him.

"I could smell you through the door," he growled. If it was even possible, your skin grew hotter. You saw his fangs in his mouth. Sweat dripped down his figure. He grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you into his room. A tight grip was placed on your shoulders. His face went into your neck, he took a deep smell of you. "God... you smell so sweet," he growled. You felt all the air escape your lungs. You were engulfed with his strong smell. It went straight to your core. Your body craved his.

"What is going on with us?"

"Not fully sure, must’ve been whatever they sprayed us with..." his mouth was against your throat. You could feel his fangs caressing your skin. "It hurts a little, doesn't it? Like you'll never feel relief?" he grumbled into you. You nodded at him.

His hands released slightly on you, running down your arms. He took your robe down with his hands, exposing your barely clothed body. His breath was red hot against your skin. Your hands went to his bare chest, running them down his body. He groaned with your touch. He began sucking on your skin. You moaned out to him, "Oh, Miguel..." He licked a stripe up your neck. Your lip quivered. Strong hands grabbed you by the ass, pulling you flush against him. His cock rested against you. The fire inside you was burning even brighter feeling him.

His lips crashed into yours. You both kissed sloppily, tongues intertwining and teeth knocking together. Your hands went to the back of his head keeping him as close to you as possible. "Fuck," he moaned into your mouth. One of his fangs caught your lip. He broke the kiss, "Sorry, I'm just so... God, I can't even form words." You could faintly see his mouth hanging open. Your fingertips traces his jawline. His head fell back with your touch. You pressed your lips against his throat. He moaned when your lips touched his skin. You kissed and sucked at his skin. "God, yes..." he called out to you.

You ran a hand down his body, stopping to feel his hard cock. He gasped. His face scrunched up at the contact. He grabbed your wrist stopping you, "Doesn't feel right. I... I need to be inside you." You looked up at him. His eyes stared into yours. Your body ached. It needed him. You needed him. You could not think of anything else except him right now. He leaned down to your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth. "Please... let me fuck you," he huffed out. Desperation painted his voice. He began grinding his body against yours. You moaned at the friction. His heavy breaths fell into your ear.

You backed away from him, sitting on the edge of his bed. His shoulders slumped before you. You watched as his chest rapidly rose and fell with each huff of air he sucked in. His dark eyes stared at you. You laid your body back, presenting yourself to him. His eyebrows rose. You both felt like animals in heat. Unable to deny your urges.

Miguel topped you, hot air hitting your face. He began grinding himself onto your clothed core. He rested his forehead against yours, "God, yes. That feels better. Fuck, Y/N." You moaned loudly at the contact. It was almost as if this was cooling the burn inside you. His muscular figured towered over you. Sweaty skin stuck together. The two of you were desperate to have any contact you could. Almost as if touching each other calmed the beast building up inside you.

You pressed your lips back to his. Your arms wrapped around his neck. His tongue ventured into your mouth, tasting every bit of you he could. His lips ventured to your jawline, finding their way to the pieces of breast that spilled out of your bra. He bit down onto your flesh, pulling a loud moan from you. He sucked your skin between his teeth leaving a deep purple mark on you.

His hand reached around your back, undoing your bra and throwing it onto the floor. Dark eyes admired your chest. He pulled a nipple between his teeth, flicking it with his tongue. Your fingers dug into his back forcing your chest further into his mouth. One of his fingers found its way to your aching core. He wetted his finger with your juices, beginning to rub circles on your clit. You shook your head, "In-Inside me. Please, Miguel."

Miguel's jaw hung open. Quickly he pulled his boxers off, his hard cock springing against his stomach. With one motion he ripped your panties off you. "Sorry," he kissed you aggressively, "I'll buy you new ones." The underbelly of his cock rested on your opening. He grinded himself down into you. His face contorted with pleasure. "More, more, more," he chanted above you.

"Please," you begged him.

The tip of his cock was positioned at your opening. "Can't wait anymore," he growled. He slowly pushed his way inside you. An open mouthed moan left his lips, you called out to him. He felt so unbelievably good. He held your hips in place, moving slowly inside you. "Finally," he moaned a deep growl on his tone. He threw his head back in pure ecstasy. His fangs were illuminated by the faint light shining through his window. Sweat rolled down his whole body. His muscles contorted with every thrust. He found a rough pace inside you. Your back arched up at him. The sound of sticking and smacking skin filled the room.

His eyes peered down at you. You had your head thrown back, your throat fully exposed to him. He leaned down, placing his fangs on your throat. He bit down softly, drawing a moan from you. Your hands grabbed at his hair. "yes, yes, yes," you panted.

Nothing had ever felt better. You were euphoric.

His head fell into your neck. He was panting as he thrusted inside you. One of his hands ghosted down your body, finding its way to your clit. He began rubbing circles onto the sensitivity. "Oh, Miguel," you moaned. "You feel so-fuck-so good. I never want to leave-oh god-never, never, never," he panted in your ear. He licked down your neck to your shoulder. You felt his hot breath against your skin.

Suddenly he sunk his teeth into you. You cried out to him. He tenderly licked the bite. "You're mine," he growled, "No one else is ever going to fuck you as good as me. No. One." You nodded at him, "I never want anyone else to fuck me, Miguel. Only you-you."

"Good girl, you belong to me," he licked your shoulder. His pace picked up, he was growing sloppy. You clawed at his back, running fingernails deep into his skin. You could feel the knot in your stomach about to unravel. You thrusted against him. His eyes shot to you, "That's it- fuck me, good girl."

Miguel teased you now. "Gonna cum on my cock? Huh? Are you? Tell me how bad you wanna cum- c'mon I wanna hear you beg for it," he hissed in your ear. The pressure on your clit deepened. You moaned loudly, "Please, Miguel! I wanna cum around your dick. Please! Want you to make me cum!" He grinned at you, "That's what I wanted to hear."

He relentlessly pounded inside you. You both were reaching your climaxes. You threw your head back as your walls fluttered around his cock. Finally, release from the burning heat inside you. "Yeah, that's it- Miguel's girl, cumming on his cock," he gritted through his teeth. He shot up inside you, desperately thrusting into you. He groaned and shook.

"Fuck," Miguel growled on top of you. His body slumped onto yours. He remained inside you not ready to pull out just yet. Your pussy still had aftershock and continued to grip around him. He placed a tender kiss on your lips.

Neither of you could make words. You had worked your bodies. Both of you panted together. He rolled off you, laying next to you. You snuggled up next to him. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you even closer. He looked at you, admiring how sexy you looked post sex. His hand went to your hair, petting you.

You leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. He held you tight, not wanting you to leave.

"I didn't know that side of you," you spoke softly. He chuckled, "You're the only one to bring that out of me." You blushed slightly. "How are we going to explain all these hickeys?"

He ran a hand down his face in realization. He sighed. "I don't even care right now," he grumbled. You laughed at him.

"Guess that's a problem for tomorrow."

~~~

[END]

[Thank you for reading!  If you enjoyed what you read, make sure to check out my page! My Masterlist is pinned at the top of this page! My requests are always opened and I also have tag lists!]

tags:

Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.

Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.

A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.

You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.

Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.

~

“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.

“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.

“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.

They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.

“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.

“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.

You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.

You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.

They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.

You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.

“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?

“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.

“OW!”

~

Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?

The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.

Well, unless you were there.

“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.

“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.

“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.

“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.

Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.

For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.

There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.

“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.

“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.

“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.

“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.

Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.

There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.

He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.

It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.

~

“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.

Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.

“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”

“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.

You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.

“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.

“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”

“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.

“Please,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.

“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.

“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.

“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.

In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.

With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.

And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.

“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask

“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.

“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.

“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.

“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.

“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.

~

It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.

Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.

Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.

“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.

She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.

“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.

“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.

“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.

“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.

And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.

~

People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.

It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.

“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.

“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.

“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”

Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.

Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.

“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”

~

“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.

“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.

Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.

Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.

“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.

“We’re actually married.”

The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.

“The number you are trying to reach is unavailable at this time. Please leave a messa—”

You groaned into your phone. For once you tried to come home early and make a nice dinner for your boyfriend, no, your fiancé, but since it was a surprise he was still working. Supposedly. Hopefully.

You hung up then sighed. You felt pathetic. Staring down at the stupid plates you set out, the stupid expensive wine that you got at your engagement party, the stupid, cheesy candles you lit, it was like it was all a big charade and they would all come to life and start laughing at you. Your phone lets out a low vibration on the table and you lunge to pick it up, only for it to be an unknown number calling you. You stared at the string of numbers in confusion. You didn’t save it so it must’ve been a wrong caller, and you watched it ring through until you were staring at your reflection in the dark screen. 

You sighed and picked up the empty wine glasses to place them back in the cabinet, but went back to pour yourself a drink because you deserved it. You swirled the drink around in the cup, watching the whirlpool form in the center of your cup before your phone started to buzz again. You looked down at it curiously, and it was the same unknown number that had called you earlier. In fact, the longer that you looked at it, you remembered that this number has called you multiple times before over the month. You didn’t have it memorized, but the last four did look familiar. 

You stared at your phone ringing and picked it up on the final ring, slowly bringing it up to your ear. 

“Hello?”

“I thought you would never pick up,” drawled a voice. His voice was itching a part of your brain but the tunnel of time was shrouding its familiarity.

“Who is this?”

“Don’t say you forgot me already, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl. There was only one person who ever called you that, and the floodgates in your mind unlocked and the memories started pouring in. Years ago when you were a totally different person who held little to no morals. You worked hard to forget that part of your life, to completely change your image, but the devil himself couldn’t seem to let you go. Your grip on the wine glass stem tightened as your voice strained. 

“How did you get my number, Toji?”

He scoffed on the other line. “It wasn’t that hard. You seemed to forget everything you learned once you left the group. How’d you manage to do that anyways?”

“Why? You finally got tired of them?”

“No, but I miss my partner.”

“What do you want?” You cut straight to the point, not wanting to play around with him anymore. Your phone buzzed again and it was a text from none other than your fiancé, telling you that he went out with his friends. You remembered when your friends told you how perfect he was for you but the text only made you frown. 

“You see, I need a place to sleep tonight. I—“

“Toji.”

“Don’t be like that. It’ll be just like old times.”

“We used to sleep together in old times.”

“I can keep my hands to myself,” he said, but you could hear him smiling. “And you can’t really say no. I’m at the front door.”

In the same moment you heard a succinct knock at the foyer. You looked back at the phone but he already hung up, leaving you no other choice but to meet him there. 

You approached the door cautiously, peeking through the looking hole and gasping once you saw that his frame was really there. The pale moonlight couldn’t soften the sharp lines of his body, a body that you knew all too well. 

You opened the door but left the glass storm door closed to see all of Toji without letting him inside. 

“Hey pretty, got anything to eat?” He grinned at you, the scar on his lip stretching wide. “Gonna let me in?”

“How did you find out where I live?”

“You might have forgotten the group but they keep tabs on everyone. Even ex-members,” he said tiredly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It brought goosebumps to your skin knowing that you were never really free. You just found a larger cage. 

“It’s kinda cold out here,” he said and shook your door handle. Against your better judgment you unlocked it to let him in. His heavy boots echoed on the tile floor, his frame filled the door before fully stepping inside. He whistled once he was shelled from the nipping wind outside. “Nice place,” he picked up a porcelain pumpkin that you had sitting on a decorative table you had. He carefully put it back down and gave you a wolfish smile. “I’m starving.” 

“I might have something,” you mumbled and pushed past him to the dining area. He followed close behind and you were suddenly aware of how many times you were blinking. When you reached the table Toji saw the food that was still left out there and cocked his head to the side. 

“All this for me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Do you want to eat or not?”

“Seems like you were waiting for somebody else. Was it that boyfriend of yours?”

You felt your heart quicken in your chest. You were standing on the other side of the table, gripping the chair so hard you knuckles were devoid of color. 

“You know about him?”

“I know that you could do better,” he opened the covered plate that was meant for your fiance and picked at a potato wedge. “This is good. He’s really missing out.”

“Would that better be you?” You dared a glance at him and Toji stopped chewing. You saw his neck move as he swallowed the food in his mouth as he slowly made his way towards you. Your feet were cemented into the floor, blood rushing in your ears. 

“Do you think I’m better? I know that I can fuck you just how you like it,” Toji smirked. He pulled you closer to his body by your waist and you saw his face up close. He looked the same after all this time, even though it has only been five years since you decided to up and leave. Your eyes carefully traced his features. The deep eyes, his thick eyebrows, his full lips. They were forever etched into your mind.

Toji brushed a stray hair strand out of your face and frowned. “What happened to the curls? You swore that you would never straighten your hair.”

“I wanted to try something new,” you murmured. You tried to push his hand away but he just held your chin instead, forcing you to look up at him. You held his gaze but couldn’t name what emotion swam in his eyes. His hands were like hot brands searing through your clothes and you weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.

“Why’d you leave?”

It was the question that has plagued him for years. You left him, and he was so sure that it would be the other way around. He felt blindsided by your disappearance, and it bothered him more than he thought it would.

“I found someone,” you started, looking everywhere but Toji. “He made me feel good. Normal. Like I could start over,” you said quietly. The only other sound that could be heard were the ticks of your clock deep inside the house. 

“Is that so?” He murmured. You gave a slight nod but still avoided his eyes. “Is this the house you two share?”

“Yes...”

“But he’s not here. Where is he, baby?”

That was the million dollar question wasn’t it. You had no idea where your fiancé was, and he could walk in at any moment, but you couldn’t push Toji away. 

“I’ve seen the both of you together, you know? He looks like he’s got a stick up his ass, but any dumbass with eyes can tell that he cares for you, which only makes me fucking sick.” 

He leaned into your face, the hold on your chin growing tighter, and you forced yourself to look at his eyebrows instead of his intense eyes.

“Did you really move on from me that quickly? After everything we’ve been through?”

You thought about how you called Toji’s number hundreds of times during the first year. You all used burner phones in the group, and you knew the rotation. You knew that it would be a deadline but it was one of the few things you still had of his, and you clung to it for as long as you could. 

“I needed to. You should leave. We- We can’t do this,” you whispered. 

“Do you even mean that?” 

Toji held your waist tight and leaned down to kiss you. Your body froze up as he pressed his lips against yours, but he didn’t push it any further. He rested them on top of yours, waiting for you to push him away but you never did. Like a moth to a flame his soft touch only drew you in closer. You clutched the fabric on his chest like a lifeline and returned the kiss, gingerly wiping your tongue into his mouth.

You realized in that moment that the time spent away was fruitless. His lips were never forgotten and you moaned into his mouth. Toji took it as a good sign, tipping your head back to deepen the kiss. His large hand rested on the base of your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat and slowly inching up until your heart was rapidly pulsing against his palm. You grabbed his shirt in your fist. If you were a better person you would push him away. You would push him away and tell him that you weren’t going to do this to your fiance, because you loved him very much, because you were going to get married in a few weeks, and you would tell him to leave.

That was the plan in your head, but Toji’s tongue explored your mouth and  everything in your head melted. You felt drunk off the kiss, sliding your other hand into the back of his head and kissing him harder. Then it was Toji’s turn to moan, pushing you back until you hit the dining table. Your hand shot out behind you to catch yourself, breaking the kiss for only a second, but he used that time to attack your neck. Heavy gasps left your lips while he sucked on the junction of your neck, and he eased you to sit on the table, spreading your legs so that they would wrap around his waist. You busied your hands with the task of pushing off his jacket, then warmed your fingers over his chest, searching for an opening to take off his clothes. You felt feral, an aching hunger for this man that you can’t shake off no matter how hard you try. 

“It’s like you’re trying to eat me alive, pretty,” Toji groaned when you decided to sink your teeth in his shoulder. It’s true, that’s all you wanted to do when you were around him, but he was acting as though his fingers weren’t petting the wetness that soaked your panties. He was teasing you, applying pressure to everywhere except where it mattered, and you looked up at him with watery eyes. He loved that look on you, so needy. On the verge of tears. He took your lips again, shoving your dress up at your waist and slipping your underwear off in one fluid movement that made you gasp. He pocketed the undergarment instead of throwing it across the room. You mumbled something on his lips to scold him but it was lost as soon as his fingers plunged inside of you, singeing all coherent thoughts in your mind up in smoke. 

Toji’s mouth never left your skin. If they weren’t on your lips, he was nibbled at your ear, or sucked on your collarbone, or kissed your shoulder, all while keeping a steady pace of fucking you with his hand. With only two fingers in your pussy he was on the fast track to making you come on his fingers. Labored breaths heaved out of your mouth as he continued to scissor his fingers in your sex and circle your clit with his thumb. He crooned into your ear, saying words that you have been dying to hear because you were too embarrassed to tell your fiancé what you really wanted, making your first orgasm sugary sweet despite his filthy words. 

“You’re gonna make a mess all over the table,” he chuckled, pulling his hand out for a moment to see your essence webbing in between your fingers. He brought it up to his mouth, salaciously licking his hand clean all while keeping eye contact with you. “I’m not saying your cooking isn’t good but nothing’s beating this.” 

You shifted uncomfortably on the table, your sex missing his fingers as it clenched around nothing. He stuffed the fingers he just cleaned into your mouth, surprising you for a moment but you knew what to do. You could still taste yourself on his skin. Sucking his fingers made you want more, and you moaned as he slightly thrusted them deeper into your mouth. 

“You’ve been needing me this bad? Looks like I don’t even have to fuck you,” he smirked. “Are you going to get off from a couple of fingers in your mouth?” You wished that you had some pride left in you, but you didn’t, not when it came to Toji, so you nodded and groaned just like he expected you to. Heat bloomed from your core and you grind your hips on the table. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a pop, then grabbed your throat and smashed his lips against yours. Blindly following suit, you held him as tight as you possibly could, your head getting lightheaded from the lack of air. With his hand still on your neck he slid you off of the table to stand up straight. It was almost too hard of a task for you to do. Your sex ached almost painfully, just hoping that he would give you anything. When he parted from your mouth, you stared at his spit covered lips and felt hazy. 

“On your knees, pretty,” he whispered, and like there were magnets on the floor you dropped down to the cool tile. Toji’s bulge was eye level, and you carefully tugged on his zipper to try to free him. When you pulled his length out of his pants, the tip was a raging pink with a bead of precome sitting on top. You pumped your hand around him, looking up with reverent eyes as his eyelashes fluttered from your touch. There was no preamble with your mouth as you took him in as far back as you could. Unlike Toji, you weren’t one for teasing. Not in this state. You filled your mouth with him, not stopping until your nose was tickeled by the hair on his pelvis. Toji watched you in awe as you gagged on his cock. Your hands tightened around his thighs, clenching him tighter when you were having a hard time breathing. 

Toji couldn’t resist himself when he took his hand and pushed you down his length. He was so overwhelmed with the feeling of your tongue on the underside of his cock and how you were still gently massaging his balls that he got a little angry. Angry at the fact that you’ve probably done the same thing with your so-called fiancé. He got to see your tear stained face at this angle too and it pissed Toji off the more he thought about it. 

“I could fuck any hole of yours and you’d be happy with that,” he sneered when he held you flush against his pelvis. Your nails dug into his skin but you didn’t tap him, letting him know that he’s going too far. He watched your eyes blow wide and pulled your mouth off of his cock. Only enough to let you breathe, a line of spit still attached to the tip, before sliding you right back down. He did that over and over again until your lips were swollen and drool ran down your chin. Toji felt himself on the precipice of an orgasm and dragged you off and up to his face again, wanting to come somewhere much better than your mouth. Who knows, if you let him stay the night he would give you a pearl necklace for all of your troubles. His hand found your neck again when he melded his lips to yours. From the waist down you were making an embarrassing mess between your legs, one that grew more and more apparent when Toji petted through your drenched folds. 

“Toji, if you’re going to fuck me do it now,” you nearly growled. He roughly turned your around to suck on the junction of your neck. You reached back to hold him close to your body, panting when his hand roamed over the fabric of your dress and kneaded your breast. The heat of his cock seared your lower back and you slipped back into incomprehensible, amorous need for him. You wanted to spread your legs wide for him, but he bent you over the table and bracketed his legs around yours. 

“I need you to understand…” he started, rubbing his length between your ass. You hissed at the movement but tears started to gather in your eyes. The tablecloth bunched tightly in your hands from frustration. You needed him to just ram inside but he wanted to fuck with your first. “…that you were never his. This pretty little pussy was always mine, right?” 

The reason why Toji didn’t let you open your legs just yet was to fuck the inside of your thighs. The tip of his cock rubbed against your aching clit when he slid between you. Your cunt covered him with slick, making it easy for him to slip in between, but the more he thrusted the more of your dignity began to chip away. 

“I bet you still have the pictures we took together. How many times have I fucked you dumb till you cried, baby?” 

“So many times, Toji,” you whined, wiggling your hips to match his hips. “I missed you so much just do something.”

A sharp sting surprised you from behind. Toji smacked your ass hard, then pulled the crown of your scalp to deepen the arch in your back. The table clattered beneath you, and you whimpered at his voice now deep in your ear. 

“Does he know how much of a slut you can be? Begging for another man to fuck you in the home you share together.”

“You haven’t fucked me yet so maybe I’m not that bad,” you spat out. A deep chuckle escaped Toji’s mouth, one that ran down your spine and settled in your tiptoes. You attempted to look back to him but he shoved his cock deep inside of your walls and you froze. It was familiar and new, too much but not enough, all at the same time. Your head dropped and you once again tugged at the table cloth to try to steady yourself but it was futile. Toji barely gave you anytime to adjust from his size before pulling out and slamming back into you. He was longer and thicker than your fiancé, and your future husband never fucked you with such vigor. 

Toji’s hand bruises your hips with his hands, driving his cock deeper than anything that has been inside of you since you’ve been with him last. Staccato sobs rise from your throat and echo around the house. Toji fucks you with reckless abandon, barely holding on since you had used your mouth on him first. He missed this view of you. The curve of your back that had dimples for his thumbs made it impossible for him to control himself. Watching your pussy swallow him was a beautiful sight. He would make sure that you would never forget this night, or dare try to forget about him ever again. 

“Did he ever fuck you, pretty? You’re about to snap my dick in half.”

“D-don’t talk about h-him right now,” you struggled to speak when Toji was churning your insides. 

“You’re right. It doesn’t matter what he did because I did it first and I’m doing it better,” he laughed. Toji was laughing while you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to focus on your breathing. As if he wasn’t reaching the end of you well enough, he lifted one of your legs to rest on the table and crowded over you. His palms stretched out on the table near yours, caging you in and filling your senses with him. Toji was encompassing your whole being and you failed at holding yourself up when he rubbed the spot deep inside of you just right. A violent orgasm threatened to rip through you and Toji could tell. He knew your body so well that he snaked his hand down to you with your clit once again. Stars burst in your vision and you hunched over. 

“I’m about to come,” you rushed out, like that meant anything to him. It was scary how well your body took him, but it was going to end as quickly as it started because Toji needed you to come first. Your swollen clit was going to be the death of you since he focused on it so intently while you begged nonsensical things from him. It all fell on deaf ears because the rhythmic sound of his hips slappingyour ass fueled him to go harder. 

“I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll feel be for days,” he grunted, nearing the end himself. He felt a tightness in his lower back that couldn’t be ignored. He slowed his strokes to focus on precision, aiming to curve right against your g spot and felt triumphant when your legs quivered even harder. 

“Toji fuck fuck fuck—“ You begged for him to slow down but he wouldn’t do that, not when he was so close to a mind blowing orgasm himself. You were shaking and sucking him in when your orgasm took you that he wildly fucked you with all he had left and then some until his legs felt sore. His hips pistoled into yours, emptying his come deep inside and he stood over you for a moment. Toji’s cock filling you up nearly sent you over again. Nothing he could do would ever be enough, but when your breathing and his slowed down the weight of what you did came down on you with a suffocating gravity. 

Toji carefully pulled out of you and stared at the mess he made. Your ass and thighs had a slight red undertone, your sex dripping from both of your orgasms. He wanted to take a picture of it, something that he has done before, but from the way you got off the table he knew that you were putting your walls back up. He tucked himself back in his pants and tried to take your arm to help you steadily sit in a chair but you swatted his help away. 

“Get out,” you said quietly. He thought he misheard you since your face was covered by your hair but you repeated yourself louder. 

“You’re kicking me out?” He asked incredulously. 

“God, Toji don’t you understand? I left you for a reason. I can’t— we can never do that again.” You adjusted your dress on the chair and tried to ignore the way you could feel his come making the fabric wet. 

“Are you mad that we did it or are you mad that you liked it?” Toji stood in front of you with sharp eyes. You couldn’t look at him because he would drag the truth out of you, and the answer was both. You couldn’t believe you gave in so easy and you were mad at how good it felt to be with him again. How pathetically you gave into his whims. You still had an unreasonably soft spot for him despite all of your efforts and you hated it. 

“If you know what’s best for you you’d leave,” you said dully. Toji ran his hand through his hair and paced shortly in front of you. You weren’t budging on your stance. You stared through him, past him like he wasn’t even there anymore. He scoffed, heading towards the door behind you and grabbing the handle. Before he left, you heard him say one last thing to you. 

“We will always take you back. The organization needs someone like you.”

“They have you.”

“I need you.” Those three words nearly broke your resolve. You almost turned around and left with him, leaving everything here behind. But you didn’t. You stayed at the finding table until you heard the front door open and shut. After sitting in silence for what seemed like ages you cleaned up the mess you made feverishly. A gnawing guilt started to eat you from the inside and you called your fiancé one last time. 

“The number you are trying to reach is unavailable at this time. Please leave a message at the tone.”

"One dance," he says. Aki himself is feeling the effects of the alcohol he's consumed, and he steadies himself by snaking an arm around your waist to let you lead him out onto the dance floor.

Well…it’s a dance floor in the loosest sense of the word. There’s no DJ, just an old style jukebox that you and a couple of other patrons have been feeding quarters into for the last couple of hours. Tables have been pushed aside to allow room for when a song really gets your engine running and you have to jump up and thrash around, screaming “I love this song!” while bonding with random strangers over the music that got you through your teens and early twenties.

The song you and Aki dance to also happens to be a favorite of yours, though the beat of it is a little slower, a little more mellow than the ones you’d been hyperventilating over earlier. He isn’t sure at first what to do with his hands until you show him. He’s not stiff, but his body doesn’t quite move the way yours does. So you take his hands and slide them down over your hips and press your back against his chest, only to feel him tense even more.

“Relax, babe. You’re so pent up,” you coo, resting your head against his shoulder, swaying against him, trying your best to loosen him up. You know the alcohol is speaking for you, both in your words and your actions, but you really want to be close to him tonight. The longing you’ve felt for him has only grown stronger in the weeks that you’ve been dating, and with a little liquid courage, you hope that maybe tonight, he’ll take you home.

It takes him a few seconds, but Aki does relax. You smile– victorious– and slide your arm behind his neck as he moves with you, his warm, broad hands smoothing upward, over the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist. “Better?” he whispers, lips brushing against your ear. The proximity of his voice sends a pleasant buzz down your spine.

“Much,” you praise him. You can’t see it, but he turns a little more red with your compliment.

When you can barely stand on your own two feet and the bartender shouts for last call, Aki drapes his coat over your shoulders and guides you toward the door. You say goodbye to your drinking buddies for the evening, and they giggle with you over how cute and gentlemanly your boyfriend is.

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” you slur, leaning in close to one of them. In a less-than-conspicuous whisper, you cup her ear and say, “But I wish he was. Then maybe he’d fuck me.”

She’s stunned at first, her wide, watery eyes darting from you to Aki and back again. After a beat of awkward silence while you stand and stare at her, she throws her head back and laughs, then pulls you into a tight hug. “Make him yours, baby. He likes you.”

“You really think so?” Your voice wavers with the sudden lump in your throat.

Wasted as you are, even your sober self hopes she’s right.

Aki says your name and holds your elbow, gently tugging you away from her and out the door as you wave and make some kind of unintelligible hand gestures to signal that you’re going to do your best to crack him.

“Should I call a ride for us, or can you make it home?” he asks once you’re outside. It’s past two in the morning at this point, and though it’s winter in the city, there’s still a fair amount of traffic and other pedestrians milling about on the sidewalks. The cold December air smacks you in the face and you gasp, blinking your eyes in a desperate attempt to focus on your surroundings. Aki holds you as you look upward at the halo of light around a streetlamp, your mouth slightly agape and your shoulders slumped against his chest.

“Huh?”

You hear him chuckle, though his head is turned and there’s a cigarette between his lips. The lighter clicks and he blows a puff of smoke over his shoulder, away from you. “Come on. We can go back to my place so you can sober up a little.” He pauses, then takes another drag before he speaks again. “Unless you’d rather go home.”

You shake your head, and the whole world spins. So you close your eyes, leaning even more of your weight against him. “Take me home. Your home,” you mutter. “Too far to mine.”

Two blocks and twenty-five minutes later, you’re slumped over the toilet in Aki’s tiny apartment; he holds your hair back while you empty your stomach, tears of regret streaming down your cheeks. He’s silently thankful for his strong stomach, otherwise he’d be throwing up right alongside you. When the worst of it seems to be over, he hands you a warm washcloth to wipe your face and helps you to your feet.

Head still spinning, you’re a smidge more sober than you were before, but you’re the kind of drunk now where you’re questioning your decision making skills. The alcohol weighs heavy in your chest and your head begins to throb…it’s going to be one hell of a hangover if you don’t drink enough water before you go to sleep. You look into the mirror and your pitiful reflection stares back at you– smudged eyeliner, red-rimmed eyes and a sorry, regretful pout– and Aki stands behind you, smoothing his hands over your hair and grinning.

“Are you laughing at me?” you ask, only feigning offense.

“Your hair is really soft,” he replies, tucking it behind your ears and pushing it over your shoulders, admiring his handiwork.

“Thanks, but you didn’t answer my question,” you say. You turn slowly to avoid another potential wave of nausea and tug his chin down so that he has to look you directly in the eye. “Are. You. Laughing. At. Me?”

“Not at you. Well. Maybe. It’s just…” he trails off, and instead of saying what he really wants to say, he kisses your forehead. “I think I have an extra toothbrush under the sink if you wanna get the taste out of your mouth.”

And before you can get a word in edgewise, he leaves you to it, closing the door behind him. You root around under the sink and find the toothbrush he was talking about, then spend the next few minutes trying not to gag while you brush the vomit from your mouth and plot your next plan of attack. Is he going to let you spend the night? And if he is, will you sleep in his bed? Will he make you a bed on his couch? Is he out in the kitchen calling you an Uber?

Does he want to sleep with you as badly as you want to sleep with him?

You straighten up your clothes and wipe away any remaining makeup before opening the door. It’s quiet in his apartment, the only sound being the second hand of the clock that hangs above the sink in his kitchen. He’s turned on a lamp in the living room, and the door to the balcony is cracked open just a few inches. You smell him before you see him, and pad your way over to join him where he leans on the railing, cigarette in hand.

“If you want to stay over, you can have my bed,” he says as nonchalantly as possible. “I don’t want you to think–”

He stops and looks over at you, his eyes dancing across your face. He’s oddly serious, lips slightly parted as if he wants to finish his sentence but doesn’t quite know what to say or how to say it. Aki, too, is still drunk. And he’s afraid that if the temptation is too great, he’ll end up doing something that neither of you are in any state of mind to decide.

“You’re the last true gentleman, Aki Hayakawa. You know that?”

“I’m just trying to be respectful,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Do you know how badly I want you? How I’ve wanted you?” You close in on him and he slides his arm around your waist. He crushes out his cigarette in the ashtray to his left, then brushes his knuckles over your cheek, his expression soft as he studies your face.

You kiss him. It’s clumsy and messy and all things impulsive. It isn’t the first time– you’ve been with him long enough that there have been some steamy makeout sessions and plenty of touching in intimate places. You kiss him, and he kisses back. He tries not to think about the fact that you were sick not ten minutes ago and focuses on the peppermint flavor of his toothpaste in your mouth. He cradles the back of your head in his hand and pulls you closer still with his arm wrapped firmly around your waist and licks into your mouth with abandon.

The two of you stumble your way back inside and Aki shuts the sliding glass door without ever breaking contact. He walks you backward to the couch where you settle into his lap. You kiss him and you kiss him and you kiss him, winding your fingers through his hair, catching his soft groans on your tongue and offering a few of your own for him to taste, to savor. Your hands slip under the hem of his t-shirt and smooth upward, across his abdomen, over the dark hair that grows from his navel to just above his pubic bone.

His thighs tense when your fingers dance over his groin, and he nips at your bottom lip. A warning, perhaps, to not take this too far. You bite back and smile into his kisses, but when you try to press your palm against the slight bulge in his pants, he grabs your wrist and stills your movements.

You’re throbbing with need at this point, breath coming fast and shallow. You plead with your eyes first, then dip your head to kiss him just below his earlobe. “Please, Aki…I need you.”

He swallows hard, his grip on your wrist unrelenting. You watch the languid bob of his Adam’s apple and push his bangs away from his face, cupping his cheek in the palm of your free hand. He leans into your touch, hungry for more, but his conscience tells him otherwise.

“Not like this,” he whispers, lifting your hand to kiss the inside of your wrist. He places your palm against his heart where you feel it beating faster than your own. “I want you, too. But I want us to be sober the first time.”

Aki is just a man. He is flesh and bone and blood and brains; he is heart and soul and triumphs and mistakes. He wants you more than he thinks he’s ever wanted anything else in his twenty-odd years of existence. He knows how easy it would be to take you to bed, to take advantage of you, to make you his in the most carnal sense of the word…and he knows you would let him. He knows there’s a possibility that you’d wake in the morning and be totally fine with your decision, but he also knows there’s another side to that coin. And he doesn’t want to risk the heartache of hurting you when he thinks he could be in love with you.

Your disappointment is palpable. He sees the rejection written all over your face, and when you turn away from him, he feels a pang of guilt. “Hey,” he whispers. “I’ll tuck you in, okay?”

His bed is soft– softer than your own, you think (or maybe it’s because you want it to be) – and his sheets are deliciously cool when you slide into them. True to his word, he pulls the blankets up to your chin and gently tucks them in around you before placing a tender kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply through your nose, catching a whiff of smoke and tequila; your head feels woozy and you will it away, curling into yourself to hopefully sleep off some of your drunkenness.

“Goodnight,” Aki whispers, lingering in the doorway.

“Aki?”

“Mm?”

“Can’t you just…sleep here? Beside me? I swear I’ll behave myself.”

He considers it briefly, but one look at the outline of your figure beneath the blankets has him questioning his self control. “I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”

Morning comes, and the unmistakable ache of a hangover headache greets you before you can even open your eyes. You groan and slap a hand across your eyes, then burrow deeper into the blankets. There's a warm weight draped over your waist, and it takes you a moment to realize that you're not in your own bed, and you're most definitely not alone.

White hot panic shoots through your veins and you open your eyes, immediately filled with regret when you're met with the intense orange glow of the late morning sun. Aki shifts and pulls you closer in his sleep, his face pressed against your shoulder. You shiver when his breath tickles your neck, and you smile into your pillow, wondering at what point during the night he came to bed with you.

…

"Aki?"

He grumbles something about sleep and shifts; the soft sound of his skin brushing against the sheets makes you dizzy with desire.

"Did we…are you, um." You swallow thickly, your tongue heavy and dry. "What happened last night?"

"Nothing," he replies, hooking his leg over yours. "You cried out in your sleep, and I came to check on you. Must've fallen asleep here." He's so nonchalant about it that you have no choice but to believe him, but when you tuck your backside against him, you're met with the evidence of his own desire for you. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth when you push a little harder, lacing your fingers with his to hold him against the softness of your belly.

Your head throbs with every beat of your heart, but there's another part of your anatomy that throbs more insistently. Aki's lips trail across the nape of your neck, and you guide the hand at your waist down a little further. His fingertips are warm where they rest, and he slips them under the waistband of your panties, testing the waters before grazing them over the soft nest of curls at the apex of your thighs.

You exhale slowly, the promise of what's to come making your heart beat faster with each passing second. He rocks his hips against you, craving some sort of friction, of relief.

"I want you," he whispers, tracing his tongue behind your ear as he parts your lips, one finger swiping through the slick that has already dampened your cotton panties.

You turn over and he pushes a finger inside as your lips meet, sliding your hands through his hair. You waste no time reaching into his pants to curl your fingers around his warm, velvet length, and your eyes widen at the girth and weight of him. He gasps and shudders; your hands are cold, but the way you squeeze him makes his head spin and his breath catch.

He pulls away, lips pink and kiss-swollen, blue eyes staring into your soul the way he does when you're talking to him about something that excites you. His fingers find your clit easily and he strokes you, enthralled with the way you rock into his hand, the way your eyes are half open and glazed over with arousal. You pause in your strokes along his heavy cock to close your eyes and allow yourself to succumb to the pleasure, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming in the best way. Aside from an occasional gasp or whimper as you feel your orgasm building, you're quiet as he works. He is patient and slow, and the warmth he creates builds at a mind-numbing intensity until your thighs clamp around his hand and you're pressing your mouth to his neck, panting and pleading– for him to stop or continue, you can't be sure.

Aki chuckles at how fast he's been able to bring you to climax. He's enthralled with how you fall apart, how you allow the waves of sweet release to wash over you until you're quivering with the aftershock. He pushes your hair away from your face and kisses above each brow, then slides both hands down to rid you of your panties and the sweatpants of his you borrowed to sleep in. You follow suit and help him undress in kind, and there's a moment of shifting and skin against skin under the blankets before he presses himself between your legs.

You open to him, eager and honest, the tip of his cock resting just outside where you need him most. Aki slides a hand from your hip to your knee, looping one leg over his hip before leaning down to kiss you as he finally pushes inside.

"Need you," you moan. You're aware that it doesn't make sense. He's giving himself to you right now, and every slow, delicious roll of his hips brings you pleasure greater than you'd ever known. You grip his shoulders because it feels like you're falling, nails digging crescents into the defined muscle as you lift your other leg to link your ankles at the small of his back.

"I've got you," he says, and you believe him. Boneless, blissed-out, your headache long forgotten, you focus on the sensation of him inside you, moving intuitively so that he can prolong the moment as long as possible.

Despite his best efforts, his peak hits him faster than he'd wanted. There's a multitude of reasons why, but he can't be bothered to think about any of them beyond the fact that you just feel good, that he's been anticipating and daydreaming and craving this moment probably as long as you have, and he knows he's in love with you but he can't say it now because you'd think he was only saying it because he's buried to the hilt inside your warmth.

He stays inside you when he's finished, steadying his breathing, laying kisses along your collarbone and reaching between you to find your clit again. It's warm and slick and swollen and so, so sensitive, but he brings you to climax again while he grows soft inside you and your muscles twitch and your back arches away from the mattress.

"Feeling okay?" he asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence. You're wrapped in his embrace, legs tangled with his, limbs heavy and sore– a remnant of the dancing from last night's outing.

You nod, face pressed against his chest. He smells like home. "Fine."

"Just fine?" There's a teasing tone in his voice; it's low and intimate in both timbre and inflection, and he lifts your chin to gaze into your eyes meaningfully. There's a hint of mischief that glimmers in his eyes. "Guess I'll have to do better next time."

Next time, you think.

Next time.

"I'm already looking forward to it," you admit, feeling your cheeks heat up with the implications.