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sunsburns · 1 month

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four or five moments (ii.)

pairing: wade wilson/deadpool x fem!assassin!reader

summary: you're literally just trying to do your job, and it's going great so far, you've killed trask, all you have left is to stop that truck from leaving new york. few problems: deadpool can't stay dead, you're having a moral dilemma and why is that car getting closer? oh shit-!

—or: deadpool literally hits you with a car

word count: 4k+

warnings: fem reader, wade being nasty, flirting, sex jokes, canon violence, there isn't too much plot, blood, strange conversations about morality, wade being annoying, he also breaks the fourth wall a few times, i did not pre-read this pls bare with spelling mistakes

notes: i was peer pressured to write this. it literally strays off from the og plot so bad you get whiplash!!

part one

All you really need is four or five moments.

Four or five moments to prove that you're better than them, that you wouldn't stoop as low, to prove that an eye for an eye will only leave two people blind. No blood will bring mercy. No. But it might get you some peace of mind knowing that they can't hurt you anymore, knowing that there's one less asshole on the earth that's trying to hurt you and the people you care about. It is heartless, you're well aware, but you are not trained to have much of a heart, much less to care.

You remind yourself of that fact as lights blur into neon streaks and speeding vehicles race by. Your heart pounds in your chest, adrenaline sharpening your senses, and the stab wound on your leg becomes a distant throb.

You leap onto a motorcycle conveniently left unattended by a fleeing warehouse worker, hot-wiring it with practiced ease. The engine roars to life, and you peel out onto the road, weaving through traffic. The bike vibrates beneath you, a sleek, powerful beast responding to your every command.

Behind you, Deadpool is a persistent shadow. You catch glimpses of his red suit and mask as he commandeers a car, recklessly swerving through lanes to catch up to you. His determination is infuriating, but you can't afford to be distracted. You grit your teeth, focusing on the chase.

Your earpiece crackles to life, and a familiar voice comes through. "I've got eyes on your tracker," your handler says. "They're heading towards the docks. Be careful; we don't know if it's a set-up."

"Understood," you reply, voice steady despite the chaos.

As you near the docks, the industrial landscape looms ahead, a labyrinth of shipping containers and cranes casting long shadows in the dim light. The truck is just ahead, its taillights glowing like beacons.

You accelerate closer, and with one hand, you grab an energy gun, in a quick movement, you shoot at the truck doors, immediately regaining your grip on the handle afterwards. The doors fly open, revealing giant metal scraps and wooden crates.

You nearly curse, swerving out of the way when a pipe tumbles out from the back of the truck, crashing onto the road. The clang of metal on asphalt echoes in your ears. You slow down by the truck's blind spot, knowing you'd have to stop it, especially now that the cargo was confirmed to be in it.

You stay ready with your gun, pulling it from the holster on your thigh. You wait a beat, then another, and as the truck starts to pick up speed, you make your move and roll up to the driver's window, shooting through the glass. The bullet flies through the driver's head, causing him to slump forward, pressing on the horn. The blaring sound drowns out your second shot, which takes down the man in the passenger seat before he can shoot you.

The truck starts to slow, veering erratically before it crashes into a building with a deafening crunch of metal and shattering glass. The impact takes down a few light posts and parked cars, sending debris flying. Broken electrical wires dance and crackle around the wreck, their sparks reflected in the spray of a burst fire hydrant.

"Great job," your handler's voice crackles through your comms. "Dispose of the truck. No witnesses—"

The connection cuts off as you are violently hit from the side by a black car. The force of the impact sends you flying off your bike, tumbling across the rough asphalt. Your suit and helmet take most of the fall, tearing and cracking under the friction. Your visor shatters, the protective plastic lining breaking at the base.

You feel the sting and burn of broken skin on your arms and legs, grime and dirt mixing with the blood seeping from your cuts. Your vision is blurred, and a high-pitched ringing fills your ears. Every breath you take is shallow and painful, your ribs protesting with each inhale. Biting the inside of your cheek, you push yourself to pull off your broken helmet, tossing it aside. You blink hard, trying to focus your vision and spot a figure approaching.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, you recognize the distinctive red and black suit. Deadpool. He strides towards you with casual confidence, katana in hand, his eyes hidden behind the mask but undoubtedly filled with a mix of amusement and determination. The streetlights cast eerie shadows on his suit, highlighting the dried blood and grime.

"Please, don't be mad, honeybuns." Deadpool's irritating voice is the first thing you can hear when the ringing stops. He's standing before you, gloved hands out for you to take.

You don't move, heaving, "What the fuck, Wade?"

"Oh, are we on a first-name basis now? I think I like it." Wade Wilson hums, and when you still don't take his hands, he kneels before you. The smell of sweat and gunpowder wafts off him, mingling with the metallic scent of blood. "I know this all seems a little confusing—"

"You hit me with a fucking car, you dick!" you belt out, eyes wide with rage. The pain and exhaustion make your voice hoarse, every word a struggle.

"Well, yes. But it's only fair—"

"Fuck you."

"Listen to me." He says a little desperately, and you're glaring at him through your tears. Wade doesn't let it get to him, instead, he calls out your name, barely above a whisper as he looks at you. "You are getting innocent people killed." He tells you. "Look around. This might not be a cul-de-sac, but there are civilians, and they're hurt. We need to leave. You need to call it."

You glance over his shoulder, tired eyes scanning the area. He was right. Dock workers are running around, shouting and helping people out of the old building the truck had crashed into. It's late at night, but not late enough for the place to be deserted; people are still at work, still trying to get by.

You wince as you watch a pregnant woman being led out of a crashed car by her husband, a gash on her head. The smell of gasoline and burning rubber fills the air, mixing with the acrid scent of smoke from the crashed truck.

"Killing shitty people is one thing," Deadpool tells you, and you hate the way his voice is almost earnest. His tone is different, more serious, a stark contrast to his usual unserious demeanour. "But I'm familiar with your no-witnesses rule. This would just be mass murder if I let you keep going. Not exactly my piece of cake. Just..."

He stops, letting his head hang for a moment as if he were too repulsed to say it. You can see his shoulders slump slightly, a rare show of genuine emotion. "Oh god, I can't believe I'm about to say this," he grumbles, "Four or five moments. That's all it takes. Just stop and think. It's all it takes to be a hero."

You grit your teeth, hating that Wade Wilson is your voice of reason. The biggest asshole in New York, and here he is lecturing you on morality.

Hairs are falling out of your braid and sticking to your forehead, yet you don't care. Sweat mixes with blood, creating a sticky mess on your skin. You can only glare at him. "You're the last fucking person who should be telling me how to be a hero."

Wade sighs, loud and obnoxious, his mask wrinkling around his eyes as he scrunches up his face. "I'm sorry I hit you with a car. You kinda deserved it after killing Trask. He was my last chance at becoming pretty again. Now I have to stalk another crazy scientist." He taps his chin thoughtfully, "I always figured I'd end up chasing a mad scientist again, but not under these circumstances."

It's when you can no longer hold yourself up with your arms that Wade takes in the gravity of your injuries. He winces, watching you crumble to the ground before him. "Oh, wow, that's a lot of blood," he notes, his voice suddenly devoid of humour. The sight of your blood pooling on the asphalt seems to pull him back to reality. "Should I take you to a hospital? How many fingers am I holding up?"

He doesn't give you a chance to answer.

"Three? No. Two? Yikes. It's worse than I thought." Wade stands, and the worry in his voice is poorly masked by his usual sarcasm. "Here we go. Up, up!" When he moves to pick you up, you start turning away, your body protesting every movement.

"Wade, wait—" you rasp, trying to stop him from touching you. Your voice is weak, barely above a whisper.

But it's too late. When he reaches for you, your body phases, a faint white glow surrounding you as his hands and arms fall through your body as if you're a ghost. He recoils, jumping back while a squeamish sound escapes his lips. He stares at you, then his hands, then back at you on the ground as you try to sit up again, confusion and amazement written all over his masked face.

"Oh. My. Motherfucking. Fuckballs." Wade gasped, eyes wide behind his mask. "Did my hand just go through you or is all that cocaine finally kicking in?"

You ignore him, holding onto your side as it throbs with pain. Every movement sends sharp, agonizing waves through your body. "Fuck."

"No way, you're a fucking mutant?" His tone is a mix of awe and excitement, like a kid discovering a new toy.

It's not like you kept it a secret. You used your abilities whenever you needed to, and sure, it was useful at times, especially in your line of work when you needed to get through locked doors and hidden rooms or just for the element of surprise. But it's draining. Leaves you winded after only a matter of seconds. You've always had a hard time controlling it when you're slightly delusional though. You must've hit your head really hard. Maybe that's why you haven't shot Deadpool, yet.

"Shut up, Wade."

"Hey, no need to be ashamed of it." He reassures you while trying to pick you up again. This time, he is more cautious, his movements slower and more deliberate. When he succeeds, you can tell he's grinning like a child underneath the mask.

He carries you back to the same fuckass car he hit you with, holding you with one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. There's a faint skip to his step as if you're not on the verge of losing consciousness. While kicking open the back door, Wade continues his chatter, and you really wish he'd killed you on impact.

"Being a mutant is great! Plus, it's not the early two thousands anymore, or whatever timeline Stewart was in. Man, they sure did hate mutants in that trilogy."

He sets you down in the back seat gently, his hands surprisingly delicate. "You know, I always knew you were different. You hit me harder than regular people. I just figured you really hated me."

"I do." you mutter.

"Oh, my little sweet buns, I'm sure you do." To your annoyance, he pokes your nose playfully. "But you can't hate me too much right now, I'm literally your knight in shining armor. See, I can be nice, especially to my fellow mercs. You'd bleed to death if I left you there."

"Only because you hit me with a fucking car," you snap, the pain and frustration boiling over.

"Good to know you're still harboring great anger towards that. Means you're still conscious. Keep being mean to me, baby, that's how I'll know you're okay." He pauses before shutting the door, looking at you lying on the backseat, bleeding and all the glory that comes from it. "And it also turns me on a little bit. God, I can't believe your suit is torn and not one bit of extra cleavage is exposed. What will it take for a guy to get some rated R nudity over here?"

And with that, he slams the door shut, the car shaking with the force of it. The sound makes the ringing return to your ears, and you bite back the urge to curse him. He takes a seat in the driver's seat, starting the engine and rushing out of the scene before first responders arrive. The car roars to life, and as he speeds away, you feel your consciousness slipping, the pain and exhaustion overwhelming you.

The two of you sit in silence for the most part, only the sounds of the engine running and Wade humming the tune of a song you think is from The Greatest Showman soundtrack. You force yourself to stay awake. Mostly because you don't trust him, but it's also because you fear that if you let your eyes close you won't wake up again. Yeah, it's mostly because you don't trust Wade Wilson.

"Where are you taking me?" you finally ask, and you hate the way your voice sounds weak, barely above a whisper.

"Just a little safe house I know." He tells you, glancing back at you for a quick moment. "Very homey, trust me."

"What about the shipment?" you murmur, your mind struggling to stay focused.

"What?"

"The truck," you repeat, fighting to keep your eyes open.

"Oh, don't worry. That's no longer our problem." He says, "We're about to enter a whole new setting. That truck is forgotten plot."

Wade takes a sharp turn, and you wince as your body shifts uncomfortably in the back seat. The pain is getting worse, each bump in the road sending jolts of agony through your body. You grit your teeth, trying to stay conscious, but it's a losing battle.

After what feels like an eternity, the car finally comes to a stop. Wade gets out and you hear his footsteps crunching on gravel as he walks around to your door. He opens it carefully this time, his usual wiseass demeanour replaced by a rare show of genuine concern. He scoops you up gently, and you're too weak to protest.

The last thing you remember, before everything goes black, is the sight of a grand mansion looming ahead, its imposing silhouette framed by the moonlight. The large iron gates creak open as Wade carries you through them, the gravel path crunching under his boots. The mansion, with its towering spires and Gothic architecture, looks like something out of a fairy tale, a stark contrast to the violence and chaos you just escaped from.

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the softness of the bed beneath you. The second thing you notice is the smell of lavender and the faint hum of medical equipment. You try to sit up, but a sharp pain in your side makes you gasp.

"Whoa, easy there," a deep, accented voice says from beside you. You turn your head slowly, the motion making your vision swim. A towering, metal-skinned mutant sits by your bed, his imposing figure softened by a look of genuine concern. "You need to rest. You are badly injured."

Your throat feels like sandpaper as you rasp, "Where am I?"

"The X-Mansion," he replies in a soothing tone, the accent heavy but comforting. "Wade brought you here. You’re safe now. I am Colossus."

You try to take in your surroundings, your head feeling heavy as you look around. The room is vast and elegant, with high ceilings that seem to reach the heavens. The walls are adorned with rich tapestries and framed paintings, depicting serene landscapes and grand historical scenes.

Large windows let in the soft, golden glow of morning light, casting gentle shadows that dance across the floor. It’s a far cry from the dingy, rundown places you’re used to, especially that old apartment with its creaky floors and peeling wallpaper.

Your eyes finally land on Wade, who is slouched in a chair in the corner. He’s flipping through a Playboy magazine with exaggerated interest, still in his dirty suit from the night before.

When he sees you stir, he grins and waves a hand in your direction. "Morning, sunshine," he says cheerfully, his voice carrying an unnerving mix of sincerity and teasing. "You gave us quite a scare. But, I've got to say, that hospital gown is doing wonders for your figure. I love the blue. Great contrast to that black you're always wearing."

You roll your eyes, too exhausted to respond properly. The gown feels scratchy against your skin, and every movement sends sharp pangs of pain through your body.

Colossus, noticing your discomfort, shifts slightly. "How are you feeling?" he asks, his voice deep and steady.

"Like I got hit by a truck," you mutter, sending a glare in Wade's direction.

Colossus chuckles, the sound deep and resonant, like rolling thunder. "Do not worry about him. We will take care of you."

Despite the throbbing pain and overwhelming fatigue, a wave of relief washes over you. For the first time in a long while, you're surrounded by people who genuinely want to help. You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the softness of the bed. "Thank you," you whisper, the words feeling strangely comforting. For once, you don’t feel the need to be constantly on guard.

Wade's grin widens as he leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out and adjusting his mask. "Anytime, honeybuns. Anytime."

As you drift in and out of consciousness, you feel the cool, soothing touch of a wet cloth on your forehead. The gentle pressure is a welcome contrast to the persistent throbbing pain.

The sound of soft murmurs and quiet footsteps fills the room, creating a cocoon of calm around you. At some point, you notice Colossus's massive hands, surprisingly gentle, as he carefully tends to your wounds, applying bandages with precision.

Eventually, a teenager with short hair and a no-nonsense expression enters the room. You learn her name is Negasonic Teenage Warhead. She carries a phone in one hand, handing Colossus a stack of clean bandages with the other. The faint scent of antiseptic and medicinal herbs fills the air, mixing with the crispness of the freshly laundered bed linens.

Hours pass, or maybe it's days—it's difficult to gauge. When you next wake, the room is dimly lit, the golden light replaced by the softer hues of early evening. The pain has dulled to a manageable throb, and the heaviness in your limbs is slightly alleviated. Wade is still there, his previous outfit swapped for sweatpants and a dark green sweater, though he keeps his red and black mask on. He lounges in the chair beside your bed, now engrossed in an iPad, giggling softly to himself.

"Oh, man. Instagram reels are crazy," he snorts, shaking his head as he scrolls through the screen.

He looks up and hums when he sees you're awake again. "You're tougher than you look," he comments, turning off the iPad with a flick of his wrist. "Most people would have keeled over by now."

"You wish."

"Oh, trust me, I do." Wade nods vigorously, his mask bobbing with the motion. "I tried injecting poison into your IV, but your body rejected it."

"Don't worry. My handler will kill me for you."

Wade groans, dramatically rolling his eyes as he gets up from the chair. "You’re still worried about that? I already told you, the truck and all that shit is past plot. We’re in the sequel now, babe. There are new rules. Who knows, maybe this is your redemption arc where you join the X-Men. Though, I will miss your assassin era. You were so sexy in that suit."

You make a face, "Fuck off."

Just then, the door opens with a soft creak, and Colossus enters with a tray in hand. He’s followed closely by Negasonic, who carries a stack of fresh bandages. Colossus places the tray on a small table beside your bed with practiced ease. The tray is filled with a bowl of steaming soup and a couple of slices of crusty bread, the aroma wafting up and making your stomach rumble.

"How are you feeling?" Colossus asks, his voice calm and reassuring as he sets the tray down.

"Better," you admit, managing a small smile. "Thanks to you guys."

Negasonic shrugs nonchalantly, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her usual scowl. "Don’t mention it. Just doing our job."

Wade groans, clearly troubled by the kindness. "Oh great, now you’re all buddy-buddy. What am I, chopped liver?"

Colossus chuckles, the sound of a comforting rumble. "You must eat something. It will help you regain your strength."

You nod gratefully, and with Colossus’s help, you manage to sit up enough to sip the warm, comforting soup. The broth is rich and flavorful, and the bread is soft and fresh. As you eat, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of belonging. Despite the pain and the chaos, you’re surrounded by people who care, and for now, that’s enough.

Wade, not one to be left out, scoots his chair closer, setting it right next to your bed. He stretches out, propping his elbows on his knees as he leans in. "So, what do you think of the X-Mansion? Pretty swanky, right? Lots of rooms, big kitchen, danger room for training... and other things."

Negasonic scoffs, her eyes narrowing. "Gross."

You finish your meal, feeling a bit stronger. As Colossus helps you settle back into the bed, you glance at Wade. "Why did you bring me here?"

Wade’s expression shifts, becoming uncharacteristically serious. He looks at you with sincerity. "Because you’re one of us. And because... well, everyone deserves a second chance."

You blink, surprised by the depth of his words. Before you can respond, he’s back to his usual self, grinning and turning on his iPad. "Plus, it’s not every day I get to play hero. I gotta milk it for all it’s worth. And no, Colossus, I will not join your boy band, thank you very much."

The metal man grunts, waving a hand dismissively before walking out, Negasonic following right behind him. Wade stays seated next to you, his lips curled into a wide, amused grin that seems to stretch just a bit too far was he watches you.

"You're never gonna take that off?" you ask him.

Wade's laughter is a low, rumbling sound that feels almost too bright for the quiet room. "Oh, no fucking way," he says, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m ugly under this. Trust me. You’d be repulsed. Like, horror movie-level repulsed."

You give him a look, your eyebrow arched in disbelief. "I doubt it."

Wade leans in closer, the grin on his face widening. He taps his chin thoughtfully with a gloved finger, the gesture oddly contemplative. "Maybe next time I’ll take it off for you," he says, a taunting tone in his voice as he raises his brows. "Maybe that and a little more."

"There's a next time?"

"I mean, as the famous words of Natasha Bedingfield say: the rest is still underwritten."

"God, you’re fucking ridiculous," you mutter, the words coming out with a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement. "I can’t wait to get out of here and never see you again."

Wade's shoulders slump, the white eyes of his mask narrow at you, "What, that's it? No steamy sex? No heavy petting? Is this how it ends? Not even a kiss?"

"Fuck no. Get out."

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irisintheafterglow · 2 months

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a kaiju attack spoils date night with bf!hoshina. he is so pissed.

cw: canon-typical violence, swearing, mild angst/fluff, happy surprise ending

"is it just me, or does the vice-captain seem angrier than usual?"

"maybe he's just fired up. there's a lot of yoju for him to take care of," iharu observes, scanning the emptied streets from the rooftop of an evacuated office building.

"you idiots really don't pay attention at all, do you?" shinomiya mumbles under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. the rest of the officers with her stare at her blankly. "it's thursday, geniuses."

"is there something special about kaiju appearances and days of the week?"

"not that i've heard of," kafka states, scratching his head with a finger. "did new research come out?"

"maybe it's because of the full moon," haruichi says and the other men look up at its soft shining light, nodding in understanding.

"that makes a lot of sense."

"but why would that make the vice-captain angry?"

"maybe he's a werewolf," iharu whispers with sincere worry. "maybe kafka's not the only shapeshifter in our division."

"it's date night, you meatheads! the vice-captain's supposed to be off-base and relaxing," shinomiya explains impatiently like it was written on the floors in fluorescent paint. "he's probably angry that the attack came right when he usually picks up..."

"picks up who?" the officers stiffen and quickly fall into perfect lines. you smile at their professionalism and try not to laugh at how quickly they changed their gossiping demeanors. "you know, officers, you should be careful about what you say in regards to the vice-captain."

"our deepest apologies, platoon leader," kaguragi monotoned, ever the perfect soldier.

"at ease," you command them. "you have nothing to apologize for. i'm simply warning you of what might have happened had it not been me passing by."

"understood, platoon leader," izumo confirms. "if we may," he continues slowly and you can see the rest of the officers eyeing him warily. "were we...correct in our assumption as to the reason for the vice-captain's mood?"

"the werewolf assumption or the assumption that only shinomiya was correct about?" everyone but shinomiya reddens, looking down sheepishly at the toes of their suits. the axe-wielder straightens her shoulders with a proud glint in her eyes. "to answer your question, it would be the latter," you answer with a poorly-hidden smirk. "he'd barely knocked on my door when the alarm sounded."

"oh, i bet the vice-cap was seething."

"he definitely was," you confirm, recalling the colorful curses he uttered as you both begrudgingly shed your nicer clothes for your combat suits. i was supposed to take off your clothes under different circumstances, he'd lamented. don't go thinking our night is canceled because of this. i'll finish them off quickly for you.

your relationship with hoshina was no secret, considering that he talked about you whenever he was given the chance. every kdf member on base knew you preferred to keep your romantic life as private as possible to avoid questions of power dynamics from higher-ranking officials. hoshina, however, either didn't listen or didn't seem to care. he happily declared thursday nights to be date nights, threatening intense punishment for the officers below him if they caused trouble while he was gone. a static-filled message from the scouting teams sounds in your earpiece and you dismiss the officers, moving to join the vice-captain at the front line.

judging by the slowly increasing trail of dead monsters covering the asphalt, you find hoshina easily as he cuts a clean slice through a fast-moving yoju. you change the frequency on your earpiece so that you're directly connected to his.

"someone's been busy," you remark, pulling the batons from your back and electrifying them with the switch by your thumb. they hum in your hands, electric blue lightning crackling in sync with the released power of your suit. "save some for me, would you?"

"any other day, i would," he replies and you hear him smile despite his annoyance. "but it took me three months to get those reservations, so i wanna finish this up quickly." another yoju falls, your boyfriend a phantom blur in the darkness.

"are you calling me slow?" your hand plants itself on your hip as you continue to watch him cut down enemies, barely moving from your place between the dead kaiju. "i can't believe my boyfriend thinks i'm slow. here i thought you were my biggest supporter."

"that's not what i said," he huffs, the slightest waver in his exhale the only evidence of exertion. "i'm just faster." he pauses for half a second to catch his breath, and you snag your chance to overtake him.

"hmm, i think i'll take over for a second, then." launching yourself from the ground, your feet run perpendicular against the wall of a crumbling building as you close the distance. you can feel hoshina's attention on you while you dodge the yoju's swinging limbs and sink your batons into the skin covering its core, electricity surging through its body as it falls with a loud thud. "how's that, mister i'm just faster?"

"cute," he admits, offering you a hand as you hop down from the monster's head. you're shoulder to shoulder facing opposite directions and catch the challenge in his eyes as you look at him over your shoulder. "but i know you can go harder."

"go your fastest then, soshiro," you dare. his throat bobs as he swallows thickly, a subtle sign that you'd thrown him off. "i'll do my best to keep up."

---

"so, this is not how i wanted date night to end up," he says through a mouth full of noodles, slurping them loudly from the bowl on your living room coffee table. "and i'm sorry we couldn't go to that fancy place."

"to be fair, the website didn't exactly update its hours immediately," you remind him. "how were we supposed to know the place got demolished in the attack?"

"true, but i made you get all dressed up for nothing," he grumbles, accidentally dropping a vegetable and splashing broth onto his face. "ow." you snort against your spoon, setting it down in your bowl and swiping over the corner of soshiro's mouth with a napkin. "this was my favorite shirt, too. worst date night ever."

"good thing there's this place called the cleaners, babe." he continues to frown despite your unending patience, letting you clean him up while he indulges in staring at you in your nice clothes. you could make anything look pretty, he thinks, staring unashamedly at you wrapped up in a blanket and covering your going-out clothes. "hey," you murmur, gently grabbing his chin and turning him to face you. "i don't mind."

"you don't mind what?"

"this kind of date night."

"but we could do this anytime," he mumbles, avoiding your eyes. you shake your head, pushing away your food and climbing into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

"no, we can't. we don't know how many times we get this in our line of work," you point out with an ache in your chest and he finally blinks up to look at you. "so i'm grateful for any time i get to spend with you, soshiro." his throat bobs again, but he manages to give you a small smile.

"you're too good for me, you know that?"

"if you say so," you shrug, leaning down until your lips barely brush his.

"but, you know," he murmurs and you pull back, staring into his starry eyes. "there's not a lot of nights," he inhales, reaching behind him to grab something from under the couch's throw pillow, "where i get to pull this move."

"what're you--ohmygod." he smirks at you as you blink down at the small box sitting in his hand, covered in crushed velvet and embroidered with gold. "that's-you didn't..."

"i did," he whispers, memorizing every inch of your shocked expression. "so," he pushes open the top half of the box with his thumb to reveal something that sparkles even in the dim lights of your apartment, "please--"

"yes!" you scream before he can finish his sentence, your excitement echoing off the walls as you both break out into wide grins. "holy shit, yes!"

"baby, i didn't even ask the whole question," he chuckles, giving in and slipping the ring on your finger. "what if that wasn't the question i was gonna ask?"

"i'd skewer your head with my batons," you smile sweetly and he hums, admiring the jeweled band in the light. "that was the question you were gonna ask, right?"

"of course, sweetheart," he assures you, finally leaning up to press his lips against yours. "you're the only one i'll ever let keep up with me."

"you gonna marry me, hoshina soshiro?"

"i'm gonna marry you so hard, the entire base will know." you fondly remember your conversation with the officers earlier in the night.

"darling, i think they already know."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

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ellecdc · 6 months

Note

Poly!Jegulus x Slytherin reader idea

So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort

it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶

poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team

It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.

“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.

“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”

“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”

But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.

Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.

“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”

Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.

You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”

Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”

You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.

Perhaps more importantly, neither had James

“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin’s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.

“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.

“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.

“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.

“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.

“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.

“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”

“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.

“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”

You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”

With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.

The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.

As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.

Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.

Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.

In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.

“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.

With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.

You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.

Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.

You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.

Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.

Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.

There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.

There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.

The pressure became too much.

You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.

“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”

You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.

“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.

Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.

“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”

“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.

“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.

“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”

“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”

“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.

“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.

“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.

“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.

“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.

“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.

“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.

“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.

“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”

But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.

“Mr. Black.”

“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney.

“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle.

“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.”

You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate.

“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.

“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”

“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.

“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.

“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.

“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.

“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.

“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.

Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.

“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side.

“I know.” He whispered back.

“So are you.”

Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.

“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy.

“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”

“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle.

Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead.

“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.

You nodded and offered him a small smile.

Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.

“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”

He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.

“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.

James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.”

You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Just sore.” You offered with a nod.

“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching.

“I need a healer!”

James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking.

“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”

James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”

“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”

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chocopokkie · 6 months

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Alastor x Fem! Reader Getting Caught in the Act NSFW

It was one of those rare moments when you and Alastor found yourselves alone in the bustling chaos of the Hotel. Amidst fulfilling various requests for Charlie, Vaggie, and other residents, you two managed to steal away into Alastor's room. As the door closed behind you, a hush settled over the room, filled only with the crackling of distant fires and the occasional echo of laughter from the lobby.

In the dim light filtering through the curtains, Alastor's crimson eyes gleamed with a playful spark as he moved on top of you on his bed, his presence casting a captivating aura around him. You felt the weight of his gaze as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face.

"Oh, my sweet doe," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress against your skin. "It seems I've been neglecting you. However, can I make it up to you?" His breath danced across your lips, sending a shiver down your spine as he leaned in, his hands lightly restraining yours, pinning them down on either side of your head.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you met his gaze, the intensity of his stare igniting a fierce longing within you. "Alastor," you breathed, the sound barely a whisper in the stillness of the room. "Just being here with you is enough."

But he shook his head, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. "Nonsense, my dear. I intend to spoil you thoroughly," he replied, his voice low and husky with promise. "Tell me, what is it that you desire?" His lips curved into a smirk, a challenge glinting in his gaze as he awaited your response.

"I want you..." you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tinged with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I don't think I heard you!" Alastor teased, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of mischief. "I can't give you what you want unless you properly tell me." Crimson eyes dancing with amusement as he awaited your response, his hands still gently holding yours in place, the warmth of his touch sending a wave of anticipation coursing through you.

"Please... I want y-you!" you say, your voice now laced with more confidence, the words spilling forth from your lips with a newfound determination.

"There we go! Now, was that so hard?" Alastor chuckled, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he savored your response.

You roll your eyes at his condescending tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you meet his gaze with defiance. But before you can retort, he leans down, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. The world around you fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his touch, the heat of his embrace enveloping you in a blissful haze.

His hands leave yours and roam around your body, tracing every curve and contour with a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine. There's an urgency in his movements, a hunger that matches your own, as he explores every inch of your being with a reverence that leaves you breathless. His burning touch sets your body ablaze with a newfound arousal you hadn't felt in a while, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason and restraint. Each caress, each whispered promise, only serves to fuel the flames of desire that rage between you.

Alastor wastes no time in removing your clothes, his movements swift, as if he had been longing for this moment as much as you. "Oh, little fawn, you're so perfect," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble of appreciation as he admires your naked form, his intense gaze tracing every curve and contour with a hunger that sets your skin ablaze. You feel exposed beneath his penetrating stare, a flush of heat rising to your cheeks as you squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

His hands reach lower to your nether regions, his touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin as he slides a finger over your folds, already sopping wet with anticipation. "My, my dear, already this wet for me?" he teases, his voice dripping with amusement and arousal as he revels in the sight before him.

"Shut-shut up," you retort breathlessly, your words barely coherent as desire clouds your mind and steals your breath away. But any further protest is lost as he dips a finger inside of you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins. With agonizing slowness, he begins to pump his finger in and out of you, each movement deliberate and measured, drawing out the exquisite torture of anticipation.

"How rude you are, maybe I should stop?" he threatens darkly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as his smile widens, teasing you with the prospect of withholding his touch.

"NO! Okay, I'm sorry!" you say loudly, desperation lacing your voice as you realize the gravity of your words. Panic floods your senses as he removes his fingers from your dripping core, leaving you achingly empty, the absence of his touch a cruel reminder of the pleasure denied.

"Alright then, let me hear you then," he says absentmindedly, his fingers deftly unzipping his pants before pulling out his hard cock, the sight leaving you breathless with anticipation.

"Huh? Hear what?" you reply, a knot of apprehension forming in the pit of your stomach as you pray that he wouldn't say what you think he's going to say.

"Beg for it, my dear," he states firmly, his voice laced with expectation as he gazes down at you, waiting for your response. "I need to hear you beg before I give you anything." The challenge in his eyes sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you, mingled with a sense of vulnerability as you contemplate what he's asking of you.

"P-please.." you mumble quietly, your face flushing with embarrassment as you struggle to voice your desires.

"Please what?" he quips back in a teasing tone, his gaze lingering on you expectantly. "Say it properly or you get nothing."

"Please, Alastor, I need you to fuck me," you finally manage to articulate, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate plea.

Finally hearing what he wanted, Alastor lets out a low chuckle, his amusement evident in the glint of his eyes. "That's my good girl~" he purrs, his voice sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Before you can fully comprehend his words, he moves driving himself into you with a sharp thrust that steals the breath from your lungs, plunging you into a whirlwind of ecstasy and desire.

"That's it, that's my good girl taking me so well~," he mutters, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he continues to thrust in and out of you with a delicious pace, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

With each powerful thrust, he delves deeper, his hips meeting yours in a rhythmic dance of desire that threatens to consume you both. You cling to him desperately, lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure as he drives you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning, and in strides Vaggie, "Alastor, Charlie needs your help with- OH WHAT THE FUCK," she exclaims, her voice trailing off as her eyes widen in disbelief at the sight before her.

"I-I, we uh," you stammer, desperately trying to find the right words to explain yourselves, but before you can utter another syllable, Alastor beats you to it. "Don't you know it's rude to enter without permission?" he growls menacingly, his crimson eyes flashing with irritation as an ominous red "X" appears on his forehead.

As quick as Vaggie had interrupted, she was gone, swallowed up by black tendrils that wrapped around her, pulling her out of the room with a forceful yank and slamming the door shut with a resounding bang, the lock clicking into place.

"Now, where were we~" Alastor purrs, his gaze shifting back to you with a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins, the interruption only serving to heighten the intensity of the moment.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #fanfic #short story #smut #hazbin hotel smut #lemon #alastor smut

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bratzkoo · 17 days

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barely yours | mingyu pt. 1

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 3.8k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: mingyu is an idiot. not descriptive sex but there's sex. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking... and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): find other parts here! pt. 2 | pt. 3

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The pulsating bass reverberated through the arena, sending tremors through the floor and up Hwang Y/N's spine. She stood in the wings, watching as the last chords of "Midnight Reverie" faded away, replaced by the deafening roar of the crowd. Her eyes were fixed on one figure in particular – Kim Mingyu, the lead guitarist of HHT, his tall frame silhouetted against the blinding stage lights.

Sweat glistened on Mingyu's brow as he raised his guitar in triumph, a broad grin spreading across his face. The rest of the band – Seungcheol on lead vocals, Vernon on bass, and Wonwoo on drums– joined him at the front of the stage for their final bow. Y/N felt a flutter in her chest as Mingyu's gaze swept across the wings, landing on her for a brief, electric moment before he turned back to the audience.

As the band made their way offstage, Y/N stepped back, allowing the crew to rush past with equipment. She watched as Mingyu handed off his guitar to a tech, running a hand through his damp, tousled hair. When he spotted her, his eyes lit up with a mischievous glint.

"Enjoy the show?" Mingyu asked, his voice husky from two hours of performing.

Y/N quirked an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "It was alright, I suppose. I've seen better."

Mingyu clutched his chest in mock hurt. "You wound me, Hwang Y/N. And here I thought I'd impressed you with my guitar solo."

"Oh, is that what that noise was?" Y/N teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I thought a cat was being strangled."

Their banter was interrupted as Seungcheol approached, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder. "Great show, man. You coming to the afterparty?"

Mingyu's eyes flickered to Y/N before he answered. "Nah, I think I'll sit this one out. Got some... uh, post-show decompressing to do."

Seungcheol followed Mingyu's gaze, a knowing smirk crossing his face when he spotted Y/N. "I see. Well, don't 'decompress' too hard. We've got that radio interview tomorrow afternoon."

As Seungcheol walked away, Mingyu turned back to Y/N, his expression shifting from playful to something more intense. "So, about that decompressing..."

Y/N felt a familiar heat coil in her stomach. She knew exactly what Mingyu was suggesting, and despite her better judgment, she wanted it too. "Your place or mine?" she asked, her voice low.

"Yours," Mingyu replied without hesitation. "It's closer, and I don't think I can wait."

The ride to Y/N's apartment was charged with anticipation. They sat in the back of her chauffeur-driven car, careful to maintain a respectable distance despite the electricity crackling between them. Y/N could feel Mingyu's eyes on her, tracing the curve of her neck, the line of her collarbone exposed by her off-shoulder top.

As they rode in silence, Y/N found herself reflecting on how they'd gotten to this point. She remembered the first time she'd seen Mingyu perform, at a small club showcase before HHT had hit it big. She'd been there on her father's orders, to scout new talent, but she'd found herself captivated by the tall, charismatic guitarist with the killer smile.

Later, at the afterparty, they'd gotten into a heated debate about the merits of classic rock versus modern pop. Y/N had been impressed by Mingyu's passion and knowledge, even as she'd argued against him just for the fun of seeing his eyes light up with indignation. The tension between them had been palpable, and when Mingyu had suggested they continue their "discussion" somewhere more private, Y/N hadn't hesitated.

That night had been the start of their current arrangement. No strings, no expectations, just two people who enjoyed each other's company – in and out of bed. It had seemed perfect at the time. Y/N got the excitement and passion she craved without the complications of a real relationship, and Mingyu got to blow off steam with someone who understood the pressures of the industry.

But lately, Y/N had found herself wanting more. She caught herself daydreaming about quiet nights in, about holding hands in public, about being able to call Mingyu hers. It was dangerous territory, and she knew it. But she couldn't seem to help herself.

The car pulled up to Y/N's building, jerking her out of her reverie. As they made their way up to her penthouse, the air between them grew thick with anticipation. Y/N's hands trembled slightly as she unlocked her door, hyperaware of Mingyu's presence behind her.

As soon as they were inside her penthouse apartment, Mingyu had her pressed against the door, his lips crashing into hers with a hunger that made her knees weak. Y/N responded with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.

"God, I've been thinking about this all night," Mingyu growled against her neck, his hands roaming her body with practiced ease.

Y/N gasped as he found a particularly sensitive spot. "Is that why you kept messing up the bridge in 'Starlight Serenade'?" she teased breathlessly.

Mingyu pulled back, his eyes narrowing playfully. "I did not mess up."

"Oh, you definitely did," Y/N insisted, her hands slipping under his shirt to trace the hard planes of his abs. "But don't worry, your adoring fans probably didn't notice."

With a growl, Mingyu hoisted her up, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. "I'll show you who's messing up," he threatened playfully, carrying her towards the bedroom.

They fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, hands frantically removing clothing. Y/N reveled in the feeling of Mingyu's skin against hers, the heat of his body igniting a fire within her. His lips trailed down her neck, across her collarbone, leaving a path of tingling sensations in their wake.

"Mingyu," she breathed, arching into him as his hands found all the places that made her see stars.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another searing kiss.

What followed was a symphony of sighs, moans, and whispered names. They moved together with the familiarity of long-time lovers, knowing exactly how to draw out each other's pleasure. Y/N lost herself in the sensations, in the feeling of Mingyu's body moving with hers, in the intensity of his gaze as he watched her come undone beneath him.

When they finally collapsed, spent and satisfied, Y/N felt a contentment that went beyond mere physical release. She curled into Mingyu's side, her head resting on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart as it slowly returned to normal.

"That was..." she trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Mingyu chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Yeah, it was," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

As they lay there, catching their breath, Y/N found herself studying Mingyu's profile. The sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips – every feature was achingly familiar, yet she never tired of looking at him. In moments like these, when the world outside ceased to exist and it was just the two of them, Y/N could almost believe that what they had was more than just a casual arrangement.

Mingyu must have sensed her gaze because he turned to face her, a lazy smile curving his lips. "What's going on in that head of yours, Hwang Y/N?"

Y/N hesitated, weighing her words carefully. She knew the rules of their arrangement, knew that feelings weren't supposed to be part of the equation. But lately, she'd found it harder and harder to stick to those rules. "I was just thinking," she began slowly, "about us."

Mingyu's eyebrows rose slightly. "Oh? And what about us were you thinking?"

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Have you ever wondered if... if maybe we could be more than this?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them, hanging in the air between them like a fragile bubble.

For a moment, Mingyu's expression was unreadable. Then, to Y/N's dismay, he burst out laughing. "More than this? Come on, Y/N, don't tell me you're going soft on me."

Y/N felt her heart sink, but she forced a smile, playing along. "Of course not. I was just joking. Can you imagine us in a real relationship? It'd be a disaster."

Mingyu's laughter subsided, but his eyes remained bright with amusement. "Exactly. We're perfect the way we are. No strings, no complications. Just good times and great sex."

"Right," Y/N agreed, ignoring the twinge in her chest. "Just the way we like it."

Mingyu pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You had me worried for a second there. I thought I was going to have to let you down easy."

Y/N forced a chuckle, burying her face in his chest to hide the hurt in her eyes. "As if. You should know by now, Mingyu, I'm not the relationship type."

As Mingyu's breathing evened out, signaling he had drifted off to sleep, Y/N remained awake, her mind whirling. She thought about the first time they'd met, at one of her father's lavish industry parties. Mingyu had been the cocky new talent, fresh off HHT's debut showcase. Y/N had been the jaded industry princess, used to up-and-coming stars trying to curry favor with the CEO's daughter.

Their initial interaction had been all barbed words and challenging glares, a clash of egos that had somehow morphed into heated kisses in a secluded corner of her father's mansion. From that night on, they'd fallen into an easy pattern of flirtation and secret rendezvous, both adamant that it was nothing more than physical attraction and convenience.

But somewhere along the way, at least for Y/N, things had changed. She found herself looking forward to Mingyu's texts, not just for the promise of a passionate encounter, but for the witty banter and inside jokes they shared. She caught herself smiling at his antics during interviews, feeling a surge of pride when he nailed a particularly difficult guitar riff during performances.

Y/N had tried to ignore these growing feelings, to convince herself that what they had was enough. But nights like these, with Mingyu's arm draped casually over her waist and his steady heartbeat under her ear, made it increasingly difficult to maintain the illusion.

She thought about her reputation in the industry – the party girl, the wild child, the one who was always good for a good time but never for anything serious. It was an image she'd cultivated carefully, partly as a defense mechanism against those who would use her for her connections, and partly as a way to rebel against her father's strict control.

Mingyu fit perfectly into that image. Their arrangement was the epitome of no-strings-attached, exactly what everyone expected of her. But for the first time in her life, Y/N found herself wanting more, wanting something real and lasting.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through her curtains, Y/N made a decision. She couldn't keep doing this, couldn't keep pretending that Mingyu was just a fun distraction. It wasn't fair to either of them.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, Y/N extricated herself from Mingyu's embrace. She padded quietly to her closet, pulling on a silk robe before making her way to the kitchen. As she waited for the coffee maker to finish brewing, she leaned against the counter, trying to gather her thoughts.

She knew what she had to do, but the thought of it made her chest ache. How did you end something that had never officially begun? How did you walk away from someone who had become such an integral part of your life without even realizing it?

The soft ping of the coffee maker pulled Y/N from her reverie. She poured two cups, doctoring Mingyu's with the perfect amount of cream and sugar – when had she memorized how he liked his coffee? – before heading back to the bedroom.

Mingyu was just stirring as she entered, his hair adorably mussed and his eyes still heavy with sleep. "Morning, beautiful," he mumbled, a slow smile spreading across his face as he spotted the coffee in her hands.

Y/N felt her resolve waver at the sight of him, all soft and warm in her bed. But she steeled herself, handing him his cup before perching on the edge of the mattress. "Mingyu, we need to talk."

Mingyu sat up, suddenly alert. "That sounds ominous. What's up?"

Y/N took a deep breath, staring into her coffee cup as if it held the answers she sought. "I think... I think we need to stop this. Whatever this is between us."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Mingyu spoke, his voice carefully neutral. "Where is this coming from, Y/N? I thought we were good."

"We are," Y/N assured him quickly, finally looking up to meet his confused gaze. "That's... that's kind of the problem. We're too good. I'm starting to want things I shouldn't want, things we agreed we wouldn't want."

Understanding dawned in Mingyu's eyes, followed quickly by something that looked suspiciously like panic. "Y/N, come on. We talked about this last night. You said you were joking about the relationship thing."

"I lied," Y/N admitted softly. "I didn't want you to know how I really felt. But I can't keep pretending, Mingyu. It's not fair to either of us."

Mingyu set his coffee aside, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "So, what? You're just going to end things because you're developing feelings? That's bullshit, Y/N, and you know it."

Y/N felt a flare of anger at his dismissive tone. "What would you have me do, Mingyu? Keep sleeping with you while my feelings grow stronger? Watch you flirt with other girls and pretend it doesn't kill me inside? I'm trying to protect myself here."

"Protect yourself?" Mingyu scoffed. "Sounds more like you're running away. I thought you were stronger than that, Y/N."

His words hit her like a physical blow. Y/N stood abruptly, needing to put some distance between them. "You don't get to judge me for this, Mingyu. We had an arrangement, and now I'm ending it. That's my right."

Mingyu threw off the covers, standing to face her. "And what about my rights? Don't I get a say in this?"

"What's there to say?" Y/N challenged, her voice rising despite her best efforts to stay calm. "You made it clear last night that you don't want anything more than what we have. And I can't settle for that anymore."

For a moment, Mingyu looked like he wanted to argue further. But then his expression shuttered, his posture stiffening. "Fine. If that's what you want, consider it done. We're over."

Y/N felt her heart fracture at the finality in his tone, but she forced herself to nod. "Thank you for understanding."

Mingyu began gathering his clothes, dressing with quick, angry movements. Y/N watched him, memorizing every detail – the way his muscles flexed as he pulled on his shirt, the furrow between his brows as he concentrated on tying his shoelaces. She wondered if this would be the last time she saw him like this, rumpled and beautiful in the morning light.

As Mingyu headed for the door, he paused, turning back to face her. For a moment, Y/N thought he might say something, might fight for her, for them. But he just shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and something that looked almost like regret.

"I'll see you around, Y/N," he said finally, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.

And then he was gone, the soft click of the door closing behind him echoing in the sudden silence of Y/N's apartment. She stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where he had been, feeling as though she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life.

But it was for the best, she she told herself firmly. Better to end things now, before she fell any deeper. Before the inevitable heartbreak became too much to bear.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N made her way to the bathroom. She had a busy day ahead – meetings to attend, appearances to make. The world wouldn't stop turning just because her heart was breaking.

As she stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the lingering scent of Mingyu's cologne, Y/N made a silent vow. She would move on. She would forget about Kim Mingyu and their stolen moments of happiness. She would go back to being Hwang Y/N, the carefree party girl who didn't need anyone or anything.

But even as she made this promise to herself, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered a traitorous thought: What if Mingyu was right? What if she was running away from the best thing that had ever happened to her?

Y/N shook her head, banishing the thought. It was done. Over. And no matter how much it hurt now, she knew it was the right decision.

Wasn't it?

As she dried off and began her makeup routine, Y/N's phone buzzed with a series of notifications. She ignored them at first, assuming they were the usual morning barrage of emails and social media alerts. But when it kept buzzing insistently, she finally picked it up.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Mingyu's name on the screen. For a moment, hope flared in her chest. Had he changed his mind? Did he want to talk things through?

But as she read through the messages, her hope quickly turned to dismay.

"Y/N, what the hell? You can't just end things like this." "We need to talk. For real this time." "Answer your damn phone."

The last message was followed by three missed call notifications. Y/N's thumb hovered over the call back button, but she hesitated. What good would talking do? She'd made her decision. They both needed a clean break.

With a deep breath, she typed out a response: "I'm sorry, Mingyu. But I meant what I said. It's over. Please don't call again."

She hit send before she could second-guess herself, then promptly blocked his number. It was harsh, she knew, but necessary. If she left any line of communication open, she'd be too tempted to reach out, to take it all back.

As she finished getting ready, Y/N tried to focus on the day ahead. She had a lunch meeting with her father to discuss HHT's upcoming comeback, followed by a charity event in the evening. She chose her outfit carefully – a sleek black pantsuit that screamed 'professional' rather than 'party girl'. Today, she needed all the armor she could get.

The drive to her father's office was mercifully short. As she walked through the lobby of Pledis Entertainment, Y/N held her head high, ignoring the curious glances and whispered conversations that followed in her wake. Let them talk. They always did.

Her father's secretary waved her straight through to his office. CEO Hwang looked up from his computer as she entered, his stern features softening slightly at the sight of his daughter.

"Y/N," he greeted, gesturing for her to take a seat. "You're early. That's a pleasant surprise."

Y/N managed a small smile as she sat across from him. "I aim to keep you on your toes, Dad."

Her father chuckled, but his amusement quickly faded as he studied her face. "Is everything alright? You look... tired."

For a moment, Y/N considered telling him everything. About Mingyu, about her feelings, about the mess she'd made of things. But she knew her father would never understand. In his world, relationships were just another business transaction, a way to gain influence or solidify alliances.

"I'm fine," she lied smoothly. "Just stayed out a bit late last night. You know how it is after a big concert."

Her father's expression tightened slightly, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he launched into a discussion about HHT's upcoming schedules, their new album concept, and the marketing strategy for their next single.

Y/N listened attentively, making notes and offering suggestions where appropriate. But a part of her mind kept drifting back to Mingyu. How would this affect the band? Would things be awkward now at company events? Would she have to avoid their performances altogether?

"Y/N? Are you listening?"

Her father's sharp tone snapped her back to attention. "Sorry, what was that last part?"

CEO Hwang sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I said, I want you to take a more active role in HHT's management. You've got a good eye for talent, and you understand their demographic better than some of our older executives."

Y/N felt her stomach drop. "Dad, I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not really-"

"This isn't a request, Y/N," her father cut her off. "It's time you started taking your position in this company seriously. No more parties, no more scandals. I need you focused."

Y/N wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn't ready for that kind of responsibility. But the determined look in her father's eyes told her it would be pointless. Instead, she nodded stiffly. "Understood."

As she left the office an hour later, Y/N felt like the walls were closing in around her. Not only had she lost Mingyu, but now she was being forced into a role she'd never wanted. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost collided with someone as she rounded a corner. "I'm sorry, I wasn't-" she began, then froze as she realized who it was.

Seungcheol stood before her, his usually friendly face twisted with concern and something that looked like anger. "Y/N," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk about Mingyu."

Y/N felt her carefully constructed facade begin to crumble. As she looked into Seungcheol's eyes, she realized that her decision to end things with Mingyu had set off a chain of events that she couldn't control. And this was only the beginning.

#svt #mansaenetwork #mingyu fic #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu imagine #kim mingyu fic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu smut #svt x reader #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #rockstar! mingyu

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pucksandpower · 10 months

Note

Hey Natalia, hope you’re doing good ❤️ Please could I request enemies to lovers with Max. You’re constantly at each other’s throats in front of everyone and Christian has had enough of your shit and demands to see you in the office. But when you continue to fight, he’s like nah I don’t wanna be involved, sort your shit out together and leaves. And you end up fucking on his desk and after you’re suddenly super friendly around eachother. Thank you lovely! xxx

Whiplash

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: You and Max discover that there is a thin line between lust and hate

Warnings: 18+ content

You storm into Christian’s office, scowling as Max follows right behind you. He slams the door shut and you both take a seat across from Christian, refusing to even look at each other.

“I’m sure you both know why I called you in here,” Christian says sternly. “The tension between you two has gone too far. It’s affecting the team and we can’t have that.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “Why don’t you talk to him about it then? I’m not the problem here.”

Max scowls. “Oh please, don’t pretend like you’re so innocent. You’ve been nothing but hostile towards me since the start of the season.”

“Only because you did the same!” You retort. “I was nothing but nice when I first joined the team. You’re the one with the attitude problem.”

“Enough!” Christian shouts, silencing you both. “I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it. We’re in the middle of a championship fight and I need my drivers to work together, not against each other.”

You sink lower in your chair, still refusing to look at Max. The animosity radiates off of him in waves.

“Now you’re going to stay in here until you work this out,” Christian says firmly. “I don’t care if it takes all night. Fix this mess or both of your seats are on the line.”

He heads for the door and you spring up from your chair. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” Christian replies before shutting the door. You hear the lock click into place from the outside.

You jiggle the handle and pound on the door. “Let us out!”

No response.

He’s really done it, that bastard. Locked you in a room alone with your most hated rival.

You take a deep breath before turning around. Max sits there glaring at you, jaw clenched. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters.

“For once we agree on something,” you snap.

His glare hardens. “Don’t pretend you’re blameless. You’ve been nasty since you got here.”

You storm over to him. “Because you decided to hate me from day one! I tried to be nice but you were so damn hostile. What’s your problem with me anyway?”

Max stands up abruptly, getting in your face. “My problem is you waltzing in here like you own the place when I’m the number one driver.”

You shove him in the chest. “Get over yourself! I earned my spot here.”

He shoves you back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

Your blood boils as you stare him down. God he’s infuriating. And stubborn as hell. You doubt you’ll ever get him to admit any fault in this situation.

“Well I’m not going anywhere so I guess you’ll just have to get used to it,” you snap.

Max steps even closer, eyes blazing. Your noses nearly touch from how close he stands. “Is that so?” His voice comes out low, almost husky.

A shiver runs down your spine but you keep glaring at him. “Yeah, that’s so.”

You expect him to shoot back some nasty retort. Instead his eyes flick down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your heated gaze again.

Suddenly the energy shifts between you. The anger and tension remains but it transforms into something more primal. More dangerous.

Your breaths come heavier as electricity crackles in the nonexistent space left between you. Max’s pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as your own.

“I ...” Your voice comes out hoarse. “We should ...”

But neither of you make any move to step away. Without thinking your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips. Max tracks the movement with his intense stare.

“Fuck it,” he growls before crashing his mouth onto yours.

You gasp into the kiss and he takes advantage, deepening it. His hands grasp your hips roughly as he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.

You barely process what’s happening. One second you were at each other’s throats, the next his body is pressing urgently against yours.

A moan escapes you when his lips move to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin there and you thread your fingers into his hair.

“This is insane,” you pant out even as you tug him closer.

“I know,” Max breathes against your neck. His hands skim up your sides, pushing up your shirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you more.” You crash your lips together again, tasting blood when you nip at him.

Max groans into your mouth as your tongues slide together. He hitches one of your legs around his hip, grinding against you.

You break the kiss to tip your head back, moaning at the feeling. Fuck, you despise this man, but right now you need him more than anything.

His hips keep up that delicious friction as he mouths at your collarbone. “I’m still going to beat you,” he rasps out.

You smirk, nails digging into his shoulders. “In your dreams.”

Max’s eyes darken at your taunt. Without warning, he grips your thighs and lifts you onto Christian’s desk. You gasp as he pushes between your legs, his growing arousal obvious.

“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before crushing his mouth to yours once more.

You moan into the frenzied kiss, tongues tangling as you tug at his hair. His hands slide up your thighs, fumbling with the button of your jeans to push them down around your ankles. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him against your heated core.

Even through the layers of clothing you can feel how hard he is. You rock your hips, desperate for more friction. Max groans and moves his lips to your neck, nipping down to your collarbone.

Your head tips back as his fingers dance up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “God, I hate you so much,” you moan.

“I know.” His voice comes out rough, filled with lust.

Impatient, you reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside. Your eyes rake over his muscular chest and arms. Unable to resist, you lean in and scrape your teeth over his nipple.

Max hisses in a breath, hands clenching on your hips. “Fuck ...”

You grin, laving your tongue over the sensitive nub as your fingers move to his belt buckle. With shaky hands you get it open and reach into his boxers, fingers wrapping around his thick length.

He shudders against you. “Shit, Y/N ...”

You stroke him firmly, reveling in the moans and curses falling from his lips. His own hands move under your shirt, palming your breasts through your bra.

It’s not enough. You strip off your shirt and reach back to unclasp your bra. Max wastes no time dipping his head to capture one of your nipples between his lips.

“Oh god ...” you gasp, back arching into him. His teeth and tongue work over your sensitive peaks until you’re writhing beneath him.

The sound of voices outside the door makes you both freeze. Fuck. The race weekend is still going on around you. Anyone could walk by and hear what’s happening.

You meet Max’s heated gaze. “We should stop,” you pant out half-heartedly.

His eyes blaze with defiance and lust. “No fucking way.”

Before you can react he drops to his knees, grasping your hips to pull you towards the edge of the desk.

Max tugs strongly on your lacy underwear until it gives way at the seams, baring you to him. He pauses to appreciate the view, eyes roaming hungrily over your glistening folds.

“I’m still going to beat you tomorrow,” he rasps.

You tug on his hair impatiently. “Just get on with it before we get caught.”

With a wicked grin he dives in, mouth latching onto your throbbing clit. You cry out, quickly slapping a hand over your own mouth.

You fumble with his belt, desperate to feel him. Max groans as you wrap your hand around his length.

“Fuck, just like that,” he groans against your skin, increasing the rhythm of his tongue in response. The desk rocks dangerously beneath you but neither of you slow your ministrations.

You whimper his name, pleasure building steadily under his expert touch. The fingers of one hand twist in his hair while you keep your other hand moving up and down in measured strokes as you near the edge.

“Look at me,” Max commands raggedly. You open your eyes to meet his wild gaze. The connection between you crackles.

“Max ...” you gasp as your climax crashes over you. You slap a hand over your lips, muffling your cries.

As you float back down, Max withdraws his mouth. You keen at the loss but then he’s lining himself up at your entrance. Gripping your hip tightly, he pushes inside in one smooth motion.

You cling to his shoulders, nails digging in as you adjust around him. Max trembles with restraint, giving you a moment before he starts to move.

Then he sets a relentless pace, the desk slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips. You wrap your legs around him, spurring him even deeper.

Max pounds into you relentlessly, wrenching desperate moans from your lips. You’re vaguely aware of picture frames and papers tumbling to the floor around you but the chaos only adds to the thrill.

You’re close, the pressure building deep inside. With a few more well-angled thrusts you topple over the edge, coming hard around him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches sharply off the desk.

“There you go, princess,” Max rasps. He continues driving into your spasming center until his rhythm turns choppy and erratic.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Max grits out. You clench around him, greedy for his release. His hips stutter and then he spills inside you with a guttural groan. The sensation pushes you over the edge again, your vision whiting out from the intensity.

Breathing raggedly, Max collapses on top of you, pinning you to the desk. You’re both slick with sweat and utterly spent, your heart rates slowly returning to normal. You run your fingers through his damp waves soothingly.

The room is silent save for your heavy breathing. As the haze of lust clears, the ramifications of what just happened settle over you.

You just slept with your sworn rival on your team principal’s desk.

After a long moment Max pulls out of you and steps back, tucking himself away. On shaky legs you slide off the desk, stumbling slightly as you find your feet, and rush to put on your clothes.

Max grabs his shirt off the floor and shrugs back into it. His hair is mussed wildly and his lips are kiss-swollen. You’re sure you look much the same.

You and Max spring apart at the sound of the lock clicking open. Christian strides back into his office, oblivious to the disheveled state that both of his drivers are in.

“Well, have you two worked out your differences?” He looks between you expectantly.

You smooth down your rumpled shirt and attempt to tuck your wild hair back into place. Your cheeks flame as you meet Christian’s gaze.

“I think we’ve come to an ... understanding,” Max says evenly, though you notice a hint of color in his cheeks as well.

Christian surveys his office, taking in the askew trophies and books scattered across the floor. You hold your breath, certain he’s going to put two and two together.

“It seems you had a disagreement about reorganizing my office during your chat,” Christian says wryly.

You nearly choke in surprise. Does he really not realize what just transpired on his desk? You chance a glance at Max and have to suppress a hysterical giggle at the disbelief on his face.

“I apologize for the mess, we got a bit ... heated,” you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the double meaning.

“Yes, clearly things escalated between you two.” Christian frowns at a photo of him and Dietrich Mateschitz now lying cracked on the floor. You resist the urge to shrink under his disappointed dad stare.

“However, the important thing is you’ve worked through this animosity once and for all, correct?” He looks between you expectantly.

You and Max nod in unison. “Water under the bridge,” Max assures him. You’re impressed by how steady he manages to keep his voice even as you can see the barely contained mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Excellent. I’ll inform the team that tensions are resolved and they can stop walking on eggshells around the both of you.” Christian claps his hands together, apparently satisfied. “Now get out of here and get ready for free practice.”

You and Max don’t need telling twice. As soon as the door shuts behind you, the laughter you’ve been holding in bubbles out.

“I can’t believe he actually bought that,” Max says between chuckles.

“We literally destroyed his office and he thinks we just had a minor spat,” you giggle, shaking your head incredulously.

Your laughter trails off as the reality of what happened sinks in. You just had crazy hot sex with Max Verstappen. Where do you go from here?

Before you can overthink it, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Meet me at the hotel tonight? We should continue this conversation somewhere more private,” he murmurs suggestively.

You bite your lip but find yourself nodding. As complicated and ill-advised as this may be, you can’t find it in yourself to deny your attraction to Max now that you’ve given in to it.

“It’s a date,” you whisper back.

Max grins and steals another quick kiss before you part ways to get changed.

2K notes · View notes

librababe99 · 26 days

Text

Caught in His Claws

❥・CW: MDNI 18+, smut, old man Logan, female reader, established relationship, daddy kink, power play, brat taming, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all!!), age gap ❥・Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: After pushing Logan's patiences to the limit, the man you love decides its time to teach you a lesson...

(Masterlist)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨

The night was still, the cold breeze whispering through the trees as the cabin nestled deep in the woods held its warmth within. The fire crackled softly, casting shadows that danced along the wooden walls. The air inside was thick with tension, a palpable energy that had been brewing all evening.

You had pushed him. Again. And you knew it.

Logan sat in his armchair, the creak of the old leather under him the only sound that broke the silence besides the fire. His rough hands held a whiskey glass, the amber liquid swirling as he took another slow sip, his eyes never leaving you. Those dark, intense eyes—eyes that had seen too much, endured too much—were fixed on you, his patience worn thin.

You were on the couch, legs tucked under you, an innocent expression masking the mischievous glint in your eyes. But Logan wasn’t fooled. He knew you too well, knew exactly what you were doing. You’d been teasing him all night, little remarks here and there, brushing against him as you passed by, testing the limits of his control.

But that control was slipping, and you could see it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his muscles tensed beneath the worn flannel shirt he wore. You felt a thrill of satisfaction at that, knowing you could get under his skin, knowing you had the power to make him lose that iron grip he usually held so tightly.

“Y’know what you’re doin’, darlin’,” Logan finally spoke, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned forward, placing the glass on the table beside him, and you could feel the shift in the room’s atmosphere. “You’re playin’ with fire.”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though your heart was racing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A slow, predatory smile spread across Logan’s lips, and he stood, the weight of his presence almost suffocating as he crossed the room toward you. Every step was deliberate, calculated, and it made your pulse quicken in anticipation.

“Oh, I think you do,” he murmured, his voice like velvet and gravel all at once. “You’ve been brattin’ all night, haven’t you? Testing me?”

Your breath hitched as he loomed over you, his shadow casting you in darkness. The air between you was electric, charged with the tension that had been building all evening.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, your voice soft, almost breathless. But the way your eyes darted away from him betrayed you.

Logan let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it. He reached down, his calloused fingers gently gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Look at me when you’re lyin’, darlin’. Makes it more fun for me.”

You swallowed hard, your bravado wavering under his intense gaze. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and you couldn’t help but part your lips, a silent invitation that you weren’t even aware you were offering.

“You wanna be a brat? Fine,” he growled, leaning down until his face was inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “But you know what happens to brats, don’t you?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the thrill of the game sending adrenaline rushing through your veins. “And what’s that?” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.

Logan’s eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide as he gazed down at you. “They get put in their place” he said, his voice rough with desire and a hint of something darker, something more primal.

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours, a searing kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. It was fierce, demanding, and you melted into it, your body responding to him as if it had been waiting for this moment all night. His hands were rough as they slid down your body, gripping your hips with a possessive force that made you gasp.

He pulled you up off the couch, his strength making it easy as he guided you toward the wall. You barely had time to catch your breath before he had you pressed against the wooden surface, his body trapping yours, his lips never leaving yours.

The kiss was punishing, his teeth nipping at your lips, his tongue demanding entry that you eagerly granted. You moaned into his mouth, your hands clutching at his shoulders, his flannel shirt bunching in your fists as you tried to ground yourself in the whirlwind of sensations.

Logan’s hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a roughness that sent jolts of pleasure through you. He tugged at your shirt, pulling it up over your head, and you shivered as the cool air hit your skin. His mouth left yours, trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh, making you gasp.

“You’ve been askin’ for this, darlin’,” he murmured against your skin, his voice sending vibrations through your body. “Now you’re gonna get it.”

His words sent a rush of heat pooling between your thighs, and you bit your lip, trying to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape. But Logan noticed, of course he did, and he chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants.

He unbuttoned them with a deftness that belied the roughness of his fingers, and within moments, they were on the floor, leaving you exposed, vulnerable to his gaze. His eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of your bare skin, and you felt your cheeks flush under his intense scrutiny.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed his body against yours. You could feel the hard length of him through his jeans, and it sent a jolt of desire through you, making you arch against him.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice a mixture of plea and challenge.

But he wasn’t going to let you off that easily. No, you’d pushed him too far, and now he was going to make sure you knew exactly who was in control.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated for a moment, the thrill of defiance still lingering, but the look in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t going to ask twice. With a deep breath, you turned to face the wall, your hands pressed against the rough wood for support.

Logan’s hands were on you in an instant, sliding up your thighs, over your ass, and you shivered at the sensation. He pressed his body against yours, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down to whisper, “You’re mine tonight, darlin’. You got that?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Yes, what?” he demanded, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he growled, and then you felt the sharp sting of his hand coming down on your ass, making you yelp in surprise.

The sensation sent a wave of heat rushing through you, and you bit your lip, trying to keep quiet. But Logan wasn’t done with you yet. His hand came down again, harder this time, and you moaned, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a way that had your body trembling.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for me now, aren’t you?” Logan asked, his voice dark and filled with promise.

“Yes,” you whimpered, pressing your hips back against him, desperate for more.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his hand sliding between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your wetness.

The sensation made you gasp, your body arching against him as he teased you, his fingers barely grazing your most sensitive spot. “Please,” you begged, your voice breathless.

“Please what?” he asked, his voice taunting as he continued to tease you, keeping you on the edge.

“Please, Daddy,” you pleaded, your hips moving against his hand, desperate for more. “Please, I need you.”

A dark chuckle escaped his lips, and you could feel the satisfaction radiating off him. “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he murmured, and then his fingers plunged into you, filling you in a way that made stars burst behind your eyes.

You cried out, your body arching against the wall as he moved his fingers inside you, his thumb pressing against your clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You were already so close, your body trembling with the intensity of it, but Logan wasn’t going to let you come that easily.

He pulled his fingers out of you just as you were on the brink, and you whimpered in protest, your body aching with the need for release.

“Not yet,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “You’re gonna come when I say you can, and not a second before. Understand?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to regain control, but it was hard when your body was screaming for release, every nerve ending on fire with the need for him.

Logan didn’t give you a moment to recover. He turned you around again, his hands gripping your hips as he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against you, and it made your breath hitch in anticipation.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice commanding as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his, and the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. He held your gaze as he slowly pushed into you, inch by inch, the sensation overwhelming as he stretched and filled you completely. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, your eyes fluttering but never breaking contact with his. The connection between you in that moment was electric, an unspoken understanding passing between you both—a dance of power and submission, control and surrender.

Logan didn’t move right away, letting you adjust to the fullness of him inside you, his hands gripping your hips with a firm but gentle hold. His breathing was heavy, his muscles tense as he held back, waiting for you to give him the sign that you were ready for more.

You tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your body silently pleading for him to move, to give you what you so desperately needed. A soft moan escaped your lips, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

With a low growl, Logan began to move, pulling back slowly before thrusting back into you with a deep, deliberate stroke that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. You cried out, your head falling back against the wall, but Logan wasn’t having that. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, guiding it back down until your eyes were locked onto his once more.

“Keep your eyes on me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice rough with desire. “I want to see you when you fall apart.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body trembling as he set a rhythm, each thrust deep and unrelenting, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as the pleasure built within you, each wave crashing harder than the last.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling, a mix of plea and praise as you felt yourself hurtling toward release. But you remembered his earlier command and bit your lip, trying to hold back, not wanting to disobey him again.

He noticed your struggle, a dark smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “That’s it, darlin’. Hold on for me. Don’t you dare come yet.”

His words were a delicious torment, and it took everything in you not to let go, your body trembling with the effort. Logan’s pace quickened, his thrusts harder, deeper, and you could see the restraint in his eyes, the way his muscles tensed as he held back his own release.

“Please,” you whimpered, the word slipping out before you could stop it. The pleasure was too much, the need too overwhelming.

“Not yet,” he growled, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—a sign that he was just as close to the edge as you were.

You were barely holding on, your body aching with the need to come, and Logan knew it. He was pushing you, testing your limits, and it was driving you wild. Your nails raked down his back, and you could feel the growl rumbling deep in his chest, his control slipping.

“Now,” he commanded, his voice low and rough, a dark promise in his tone. “Come for me, darlin’. Let go.”

The permission was all you needed. With a cry, you came undone, your body convulsing around him as the pleasure exploded within you, every nerve ending on fire as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Your vision blurred, your senses overwhelmed as you fell apart in his arms.

Logan wasn’t far behind. With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he found his release, his grip on you tightening as if he never wanted to let go. The sensation of him filling you, his warmth spreading through you, only heightened the intensity of your own orgasm, and you clung to him, riding out the last waves of pleasure together.

For a moment, the world around you faded away, and there was nothing but the two of you, connected in the most intimate way possible. Your breathing was ragged, your bodies slick with sweat, but you felt a deep sense of satisfaction, a contentment that warmed you from the inside out.

Logan held you against the wall, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath, the intensity of the moment slowly ebbing away, leaving behind a sense of peace. His eyes, once filled with such fierce desire, were now soft, tender as they looked into yours.

“Darlin’,” he murmured, his voice still rough but filled with a warmth that made your heart swell. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You smiled, your fingers brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “I could say the same about you, old man.”

A chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he leaned in to kiss you, this time soft, slow, a contrast to the fire that had burned between you just moments ago. It was a kiss filled with promise, with affection, and it made your heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the physical connection between you.

When he finally pulled back, he didn’t let you go. Instead, he carried you over to the couch, laying you down gently before settling beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.

“Think you learned your lesson?” he teased, his voice laced with a warmth that made you smile.

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling content, safe in his arms. “For now,” you replied with a playful smirk, though your body was already feeling the exhaustion settling in.

Logan chuckled again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Guess we’ll see ‘bout that, won’t we?”

You hummed in agreement, your eyes fluttering closed as the warmth of the fire and the comfort of his presence lulled you into a peaceful drowsiness. You knew that you would test his patience again, push his limits just to feel that thrill, that intoxicating mix of power and surrender. But for now, you were content to rest in the aftermath, savoring the quiet intimacy that had settled between you.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt Logan’s hand gently stroking your hair, his touch tender, protective. And in that moment, you knew that no matter how much you pushed, how much you teased and tempted him, he would always be there to catch you, to tame the fire within you with his own.

And that thought alone was enough to make you smile as you fell into a deep, contented sleep, wrapped in the arms of the man who knew you better than anyone else ever could.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed this one! Logan is living rent free in my head at this point🤭

#logan howlett #hugh jackman #xmen fandom #xmen fanfiction #wolverine x reader #logan x f!reader #old man logan #old man logan x reader #wolverine smut #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #wolverine xmen #deadpool and wolverine

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luxaofhesperides · 10 months

Text

Danny accidentally appearing out of Duke's shadow. And doing it purposely every time after that. ; requested by @kyrianclawraith! (deviated from your original prompt a bit, sorry! the ghostlights brainworms got away from me)

Traveling through shadows has become second nature for Duke after using them so extensively over the years. He even uses them as a civilian, hopping between shadows when he’s running late to class so he doesn’t have to stress out over traffic.

Not even Batman’s scoldings can stop him from making it on time to his classes. Risks need to be taken for the sake of his education!

The shadows are comforting. They hide him from sight, get him to where he needs to go, and gives him the alone time he needs when he’s been around people for too long and desperately needs some quiet to recharge. Duke would say that he’s well versed in the shadows at this point, no longer stumbling out into the light.

Even with all his practice and confidence, he still can’t prepare himself for tripping over someone in the shadows while he’s trying to escape some of The Riddler’s goons.

They both go tumbling out of the shadows, landing in a corner hidden by storage shelves. The poor tripping hazard of a person is under him, groaning lightly as he reaches up to press a hand to the back of his head, where he hit the concrete floor.

“Oh, shit,” Duke whispers, “I’m so sorry. What are you doing here? How are you here?”

“I was hiding,” the guy hisses back at him. “I wanted to get out of the rain and dozed off and when I woke up, guns were being shot! I was up in the rafters, so excuse me for thinking no one would find me up there!”

Another gunshot rings out, alarmingly close to where they are.

Duke curses under his breath, then picks up the guy and hauls him over his shoulder. “Time to go!” And then he’s disappearing into the shadows again, following the line of them outside the warehouse and down the street.

As soon as they’re safely away from the goons, Duke steps out of the shadows and carefully sets the civilian back onto his feet.

“So sorry about that,” he says, “But I need to get back and deal with them. Stay safe!”

He’s gone before the civilian can say anything else, and though it’s embarrassing that he tripped over someone while shadow hopping, at least it ended relatively well. It’s not like it’ll happen again.

Duke, sweet, naive Duke, doesn’t think much of the civilian again. He’s a busy guy with a busy life! Lots of things to do! Lots of embarrassing moments to keep secret from the other Bats! No one has mentioned it at all, so he thinks he’s safe from being teased about it.

That is, up until he’s training with Dick and a hand pops up out of his shadow.

“Um,” Dick says, backflipping away from Duke’s punch. He lowers his escrima sticks and squints at the space behind Duke. “Are you… trying something new with your powers?”

“...No? I’m not using my powers right now.”

Dick looks more and more alarmed. He won’t look away from the space behind Duke, and it’s making him nervous. He doesn't want to look, but he knows he has to.

Steeling himself, Duke takes a deep breath, then turns slightly to see what’s behind him.

Nothing.

His gaze goes down, and he sees a pale hand sticking out of his shadow, moving back and forth. It then comes out some more, up to the elbow, and the hand pats the ground Duke’s shadow lays on, a stiff mat perfect for sparring.

Behind him, Dick turns on his escrima sticks, the electricity crackling through the air.

The hand disappears for a moment.

Then two hands appear and grab the ground, hauling up a body from Duke’s shadow.

Duke is very well versed in shadows. He travels through them almost daily. He thinks he would know if there was some strange netherworld hidden in the shadows where other beings could pop out of shadows like portals. This is alarming, to say the least.

“Don’t move, Duke,” Dick warns, creeping closer, ready to attack.

A head pops out of his shadow. Whatever it is glows and their white hair moves softly as if underwater. They’re facing away from him, so he can’t see their face, but he can see the black, skin-tight suit their wearing as they float up from his shadow, no longer needing their hands to pull themself out.

“Huh,” they say, looking up at the ceiling.

Dick grabs Duke’s arm and pulls him back, shielding him with his body. “Who are you?” he demands, voice cold.

The creature/person startles and whips around to stare at them with wide green eyes. His gaze darts down to the electrified escrima sticks, then back up again, visibly nervous.

“Um, hi! Sorry, I didn’t know anyone would be here. Wherever this is.”

“How did you get here?”

“I was practicing a new portalling method. I found a ghost to teach me how to move through shadows, since my usual portals are very bright and noticeable. Not great when you’re trying to be stealthy! I did not mean to end up here.”

Duke stares at him. “You came out of my shadow.”

“Sorry,” the guy repeats. Then he squints at Duke. “Hey, didn’t you save me the other day? From the warehouse?”

It’s been a while since Duke’s saved anyone from a warehouse. Criminals and goons have moved on to condemned apartment complexes and the back rooms of bars. The only person he’s saved is the tripping hazard…

“Man, what is up with you and getting caught in my shadows?”

“This is your fault!” the guy insists. “I associate shadows too strongly with you! That’s why I’m here! Probably. I don’t actually know how this works.”

“You don’t know how it works but you did it anyways.”

“It sounds bad when you say it like that.” The guy floats down to the ground and offers Duke a hand. “I’m Phantom, by the way! Figured I should introduce myself because this will happen again.”

Duke considers introducing himself as the Signal, but Danny is looking directly at his bare face, so it’s lost cause. Talk about an unexpected security breach. “Duke. You looked a little different when we first met.”

“Yeah, that was my human form. This is my ghost form.” A watch on his wrist, some clunky looking thing that looks like it came from the early 2000s, beeps and Phantom frowns at it. “Shoot, I need to go. I’ll see you later!” And he dives right back into Duke’s shadow, disappearing.

Duke blinks at the empty space where Phantom used to be, still reeling from the shock of it. He’s so busy processing the last few minutes that he doesn’t hear the escrima sticks turn off until Dick is dropping a heavy arm around his shoulders, holding him in place. There’s a smile on his face, but it’s not happy; it’s a warning that he’s at his limit and is barely hanging on to niceties.

“So,” he says as Duke cringes, “Looks like we need to have a talk about the things you’ve been hiding from us, Duke.”

He can’t do anything but resign himself to his fate.

After that conversation, he’s instructed to let them know when Phantom pops up. Which is fine until he realizes that Phantom really did mean it when he said that it’ll happen again.

Phantom pops up constantly. Most of the time, Duke is lucky enough to be at home, or in the Manor, or in the Batcave away from the public where no one will freak out about a glowing boy popping out of his shadow. Sometimes, he’s in the middle of the street as a civilian and has to sprint away, ducking into the first empty alley he can find in order to climb up onto the rooftop where no one will see him.

It’s stressful and confusing and he wishes he could be more upset about it, but Phantom is fun. He’s funny and charming and tells the craziest stories about ghost fights that Duke can’t help but hang onto every word.

He dutifully updates his Phantom Log, noting each time he’s portaled through Duke’s shadow, any information he’s revealed, and an injury count after Duke noticed a concerning pattern of Phantom often showing up after he’s been in a fight.

Duke begins to get a feel for when Phantom is about to show up. A shiver runs down his spine and his awareness of the shadows around him grows. Sometimes, he could swear he could feel something tear apart in his shadow. He feels it then, a tear that stitches itself up almost instantly, a ripple in the shadow, before that familiar hand pops up again and Duke grabs hold of it to haul Phantom out into his bedroom.

He is, once again injured. There’s a large gash running down the length of his other arm, bleeding a toxic, glowing green.

“Dude,” Duke says, unable to keep the judgment out of his voice.

“You should see the other guy,” Phantom snorts. “I slammed him through five streets, then ripped his limbs off.

“Dude…”

“Just to be clear, they weren’t his real limbs. He has a robot suit he uses like a body because he’s like a tiny little bean.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how to take that. Anyways, have you still not figured out how to open portals that aren’t connected to my shadow?”

Phantom shrugs. “Nope. And I’m not really trying to figure it out. I like hanging out with you. Plus, it’s nice to see a friendly face after a fight.”

“Can’t you like, go home and have your family take care of you first.”

“Uh, better not,” Phantom laughs nervously. “They’d probably kill me for real if they saw me like this.”

Duke quietly notes to himself to add that statement to the Alarming Things Phantom Says list.

“Does it… bother you? Me always coming to you?” There’s a smallness to his voice, a fragility that makes Duke want to beat himself up for making Phantom feel like that.

“No! No, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t keeping you from anyone else.”

Phantom brightens. “Oh! Well, no need to worry about that. No one’s worried, back home. They know I disappear sometimes.”

…Another concerning thing. Duke is considering bribing Phantom into staying in Gotham forever, living in his shadow, just so he can take care of him. Just to be sure Phantom’s safe. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks, eyes flickering down to Phantom’s bleeding wound.

Phantom futilely tries to hide the wound with a hand. The green blood leaks out from between his fingers, and he applies more pressure to the wound with a faint wince. “Nope! All good here. I’ll heal in no time, honest.”

“Then, do you want to just hang out? I really don’t know why you’d chose to keep coming to me.”

“You’re good company, dude. Very chill. Very fun. And you’re a hero! That’s so cool. Why wouldn’t I keep coming back?”

Duke shrugs, not sure how to put his insecurities into words. He’s already starting to get the Bat-specific inability to communicate emotions, which is definitely a problem. He’ll need to spend time with other people to be normal again.

As if sensing that Duke’s mood is falling, Phantom launches into another tale, complaining about people who bother him, teachers who are terrible at teaching, having snark-fights with the embodiment of Time itself, and so on. He always has the craziest stories, and he tells them so casually that Duke has to second guess himself, wondering if he’s overreacting when he’s shocked by what Phantom tells him.

He starts telling his own stories as well, mostly fun civilian interactions he’s had since they last spoke, villain fights, the ever changing theories on the ‘Who is Batman Sleeping With Now?’ shared document all the other Bats have. By the time an hour passes, Phantom’s arm is fully healed and he’s flying in lazy circles above Duke.

His watch beeps again in the middle of him recounting the insane drama happening at his school. Phantom sighs and sinks back to the floor, hovering just above Duke’s shadow.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” he says, voice warm.

Duke shrugs. “You’re good company. I like when you visit.”

A slow, soft smile spreads across Phantom’s cheeks, making him glow even brighter. “Sweet talker,” he accuses fondly, then flies in for a quick, tight hug. He pulls back before Duke can reciprocate, and salutes him with a cheeky, “See you soon!” and is gone, flying into Duke’s shadow before he can respond.

Shaking his head fondly, Duke falls back against his bed.

Despite how unconventional their friendship is, he is glad Phantom keeps coming back. He hopes he’ll get to see Phantom’s human form again.

…And get more used to the horror movie scene that is Phantom clawing his way out of his shadow. No matter how many times he sees it, the sight still makes him jump.

Not that he’s ever going to admit that.

If Phantom thinks he’s cool, he’s going to do whatever he can to keep that impression from changing. It’s only reasonable, really.

(“Shut up, Dick,” he says later when he recounts this encounter with Phantom. Dick just keeps laughing, endlessly amused that Duke got ‘jumpscared into a crush’ as he phrased it. That’s definitely not what happened.

Next time, he’s definitely convincing Phantom to scare Dick with him.

Revenge will be his.) . . .

[send me ghostlights prompts! one day left before they close on 11/17]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #100% after danny gets a hang of traveling thru shadow portals more hes going to help duke in fights #meaning duke is going to throw a ball of shadows like a pokeball and dannys going to pop out of it to deliver a spectacular flying tackle #theyre the dream team (trouble makers) :)#thanks for the prompt!!

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binniesbooks · 2 months

Text

• YOU DON'T WANT HIM TO KNOW, DO YOU?

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 4k

pairings brother'sbestfriend!Soobin x fem!reader

warnings lot of curses, mouth to mouth passing of liquid, making out, oral sex, slight somno, degradation, protected sex, pet names, dom!soobin (idk what else did I miss)

faye's note I saw Soobin's ig post last night and the cogs and wheels of my brain started working lmao. But I wasn't able to post it immediately because of power interruption, it sucks. Tsk. Anyway, hope you enjoy this! Oh, btw, fuck Tumblr for messing it up again agh!

You had known Soobin for years now. He was your brother's best friend, the kind of guy who was always around, cracking jokes and lending a hand in whatever task you were working on. Soobin has been the most gentle person you've ever met, or so you thought.

But lately, things have shifted. You found yourself drawn to him in a way that was more than just friendship, a stirring attraction that you couldn’t seem to shake. Soobin is not that dumb to not know and knew how to connect the dots.

From the way you welcomed him even if his best friend was not around, the way you gave him water or food, the gazes he could feel you were throwing at him even if his back was turned to you, the lingering touches you were giving with simple grazes of fingers, the way you changed your hairstyle to a high ponytail, the way you kept on using thin clothes whenever he was around and the way you join them whenever they are playing because you never did these things before.

On your brother's birthday, the three of you had been hanging out in your brother's house. Laughter echoed through the rooms, and the smell of barbecue wafted from the backyard where your brother was busy grilling. The moment felt all too ordinary, yet sparkles of tension crackled between Soobin and you when you found yourselves alone in the living room, the rest of the world felt like it was fading away.

The air thickened with unspoken words as you sat close, the TV flickering in front of you. Soobin was just as aware of the shift, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with something more serious.

Your heart raced as your knees brushed against each other, a simple contact that sent electricity coursing through you.“Do you think he’ll be done soon?” you asked, trying to lighten the moment as you rocked yourself back and forth, but your voice trembled slightly.“Who, your brother? He loves taking his time,” Soobin replied with a smirk, but his gaze lingered on your lips for a moment too long.

"I'm done grilling, let's start drinking!" your brother announced as he marched with the container of barbeque in his hand.

The night passed with your brother's blabbering and boasting about things, like how he managed to raise you alone even when it's just the two of you, how he takes care of you and he doesn't want you to be taken by a man who didn't treat you with respect. You throw a few more glances at Soobin who's just sitting across you, and you can tell he's staring at you as well with the simple grins he shows whenever your eyes meet.

Your brother is most likely the kind of guy who can't handle his liquor, Soobin does handle his oddly fine, enough to stay conscious and aware of his surroundings. Aside from the bit of redness on his cheek and ears, you couldn't tell he was tipsy.

"He's out." You muttered as you stared at your brother snoring with his cheek pressed on the table, causing Soobin to snort as he poured the remaining alcohol into his glass. It's almost two in the morning.

"Can you carry him to the couch? I'll grab his blanket and pillows," you said dusting your shorts from anything you have sat on. Soobin just simply nodded.

"Stop staring, you'll end up making a cave in my head." You can feel how he's watching you behind your back as you are tucking your brother to sleep. Giving him pillows for him to sleep comfortably at least.

"Y/n," Soobin called the moment you're done. You replied with a simple "Hmm?" as you started to pick up the bottles, glasses, and plates cluttered around the table.

You turned your head to him when you did not hear him answer. He's sitting on one of the couches across the one you're brother was sleeping on, your eyes meet, the ends of his lips curving up.

"Have you tried drinking?" he asked, swirling the liquor in the glass he was holding. "I haven't. I wanna try though, I'm already beyond my legal age. But this asshole brother of mine does not want me to do so." You pouted as you jokingly raised the bottle you were holding to hit your sleeping brother.

"Your brother does seem to care for you so much." He grins once again, sipping on the alcohol.

"Why, of course. I'm his only family." You say as you sit at the armrest of the couch where your brother sleeps.

"Say, have you broken any of his rules?" he asked, running his hand through his hair. You nodded, causing his plump lips to stretch a bit.

You looked at your sleeping brother, "He used to tell me not to go out at night, but well, sometimes I sneak out, to be with my friends." You chuckled as you bit your lip. "Please don't tell him." You looked back at Soobin again. "Anything else?" He tilted his head to the side, still staring at you. "I...I was told not to be too close or friendly to other guys. He also told me not to like any of his friends because they're total assholes." Your voice slowly becomes faint as you fidget with your fingers.

The clink of glass he picked up on the table made you realize you were straight-out confessing, to one of his friends. You snapped back to him, "I-i mean..." You were out of words as you stared at his mused expression. Scared that he might tell your brother. You're screwed.

"Come here," he motions you to come in front of him. "You don't want me to tell this to him, is that right?" You nodded, embarrassed at what you've said and done. "Only if you do me one thing." He leaned back to the couch he was sitting on, his hand once again running through his hair. "That is...?"

"That is if you break one more damn rule of your brother. For me." He smiled at you, purposely pausing, emphasizing the last two words."I... I'll do it." He feels you're desperate as he watches you ball your fist while he can hear your thumping heart in the dead of night.

"Sit here." He tapped the space beside him as he picked up his glass of alcohol once again, his face painted with pure amusement. Just like being bewitched, you obeyed, sitting beside him.

He places his hand on the space behind you, "Pft, you're so tensed," he snickers. "One more rule, yeah?" He inquired, bringing his face closer to yours. "One..one more. Just one only..." You confirmed voice barely above a whisper.

He sipped on his glass as he held and tilted your face towards his. You breathed, gripping the couch to steady yourself. In an uncharacteristically bold move, Soobin closed the gap between you. You were too stunned to push him away. Hell, you liked it too much you couldn't push him away. He brushed his thumb on your lower lips before pressing his lips on yours, slowly letting the liquid flow out from his mouth to yours. That was it—the final push you needed. Maybe it was the fear you felt that he might tell your brother about your secrets or him being the reason you're breaking the rule, but at that moment, you wanted to break every unspoken rule. You parted your lips, you loved the taste, either his lips or the liquor, you don't know anymore. You place your hand on his chest ultimately clutching on his button-up shirt. His lips danced skillfully on yours, the liquid escaping, dripping to your chin.

He pulled away for a bit to look at you. Only to see you drooling as you look up at him with your hands tightly clutched on his button-up. "More... Please." his smile widened at you begging. "Greedy little girl, aren't you?" You lean unto his hand that is gently caressing your cheek. "Please.." you begged once more. He chugged the remaining liquor in his glass as he held your nape, crashing his lips on yours a little bit harder than last time, his other hand flew up your neck, feeling how you slowly gulped on the liquor mixed with his spit, he gently squeezed your neck, emitting a soft gasp from you as you sightly opened your mouth. He wasted no time shoving his tongue into your throat, practically making the dirtiest and nastiest kiss you've ever experienced.

You rubbed your thighs when he gently pulled at your hair, he's rough yet gentle. He's aggressive but careful. How ironic. You know this is wrong. You're kissing-- no you are making out with one of your brother's best friends, who was sleeping in front of you.

"You like this, don't you?" He taunted as he pulled your hair once more. It takes everything in you to not scream out in pleasure. His lips captured yours once more in a fervent kiss that ignited a wildfire within you. You melted into him, the taste of anticipation on your tongue, the weight of what you were doing fueling the heat of the moment. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself surrender to what was happening. You pressed your body closer to his, your connection growing more urgent. It was reckless, forbidden—everything that made your heart race. You knew the stakes: if your brother found out, you're done. Yet, that thrill, that desire to break one of your brother's rules, is pulling you closer to Soobin.

He pulled you by your hair once again, a string of saliva hanging on both of your lips, you're panting as you snap your head towards your brother. Thankfully, he's still sound asleep. You looked back at Soobin, plump lips red from the pressure and heat of the kiss. He licked his lips, "Such a good girl for me," he chuckled, his hand still on your nape. "Now, come here, we're not done yet." He stood up and grabbed you by your wrist marching towards your bedroom, turning off the light in the living room in the process. Hearts pounding, adrenaline coursing through your veins as he locked the door behind.

The moment you two stepped inside your room, your mind immediately processed what would happen. You are in your room with a boy, Soobin. Your brother's best friend. Whom you recently grew interested in. You even made out in the living room with him. He even made sure your door was locked. What makes you think this won't reach the most intimate part? There’s no doubt about it—something significant was bound to happen. Why wouldn't it? Soobin is experienced. You've heard him and your brother talk about it multiple times. How they shared the same girl, how he ended up with a one-night stand with the girl from the bar, how he made his enemy's girlfriend sneak out with him, and many more nasty things they've done.

"Climb up the bed, pumpkin." He's ordering you around again, yet you are following him without restraint. He unbuttoned his shirt as he was staring down at you sitting tensely on the bed, with your hands in between your folded thighs. You were staring up at him, eyes blown, maybe you just can't handle the shots of liquor, or maybe you're eyes were just filled with lust. He scoffed, running his hand through his hair for the nth time today. He climbed up the bed, the black piece of cloth he was wearing long discarded.

With his back pressed on the headboard, he motioned you to move closer to him. "C'mere pumpkin. I won't tell, any of your little secrets to your brother~" his voice clearly mocking you with a sing-song tone. "Can't afford to let you get screwed, anyway." You were sitting between his legs. You can't decline to anything he wants. Aside from you being scared of your brother, deep inside you, you also wanted this. You also want to break the rules just to be with Soobin.

Your eyes ran through his long legs, his dress pants comfortably hugging the lean muscles of his legs. "Your hands are pretty, you're actually creative," he was probably referring to the artworks you've been doing, "I wonder what else these pretty hands can do." He unzipped his pants as he grabbed one of your hands, placing it on his aching bulge. He rubbed himself with your hand, humming at the sensation. His other hand flew to your lips, rubbing your lower lip as he stared at your eyes filled with need. "Soft lips that give tender and sloppy kiss," he muttered, "What else can you kiss better, pumpkin, hm?" He pressed his thumb on your lip.

You scoot closer, moving your hand on its own accord as he lets go of your hand, eyes still looking at him with unfulfilled pleasure. He pushed your head down towards his bulge, "Why not try going down on me, let's see what you can do." You carefully stroke him once more within the confinement of his boxers. "Fuck. Your hands are quite good." He moaned as he gripped your wrist. You pulled his boxers to expose his girthy length. You're not bewitched, you want him. He stroke his exposed cock as he pushed you down a little bit more, making you almost kiss the base of his cock.

Your tongue prodded out, licking the base of his cock as both of your hands were holding to his legs to keep yourself steady. "Shit!" His cock pulsated as he flinched, he was unprepared. He chuckled at your quirks. "Start. Your secrets depend here." He taunted.

Your dainty fingers wrapped around his cock got him reeling. You licked the tip of his cock, it's red and it feels burning. You slowly took him in your mouth as he puffed out muffled moans and grunts. He crossed his arms behind his head, " Wondering how your brother will react if he finds out that this precious little sister of his is doing something very very naughty behind his back." You took him whole in your mouth, gag reflex kicking in. "Fuck angel, you'll be the death of me." He huffed as he tightly closed his eyes. He's restraining himself to hold you, keeping his arms behind his head.

You continuously bobbed your head with your tongue occasionally wrapping around his cock. "You're quite skilled. Have you ever done this? You don't look and act innocent at all." His grin grew wider at the thought. You pulled away, shaking your head.

"N-never... But I f-fantasize over you." You admitted. The smug look on his face becomes heavier as he lets out a mocking laugh. "Look at you acting innocent and all. Yet you have a dirty little mind." The shit-eating grin on his face looks devilish. "My little slut." You tweaked at his words. Embarrassed at where you have put yourself into. "Now don't be shy and show me who you really are, kitten." The pet names he's been calling you, you can't react to it other than getting wet. You wanted to be degraded by him. You've wanted this for so long.

You continued giving him head, " shit, you are so dirty," his light laughs makes your heart flutter, and his degrading words make your pussy clench. He started thrusting carefully in your mouth when you started moaning, the vibrations giving him extra sensation. He holds your head to stay still as he started fucking your mouth, you could tell he does not care about hurting you but his thrust was controlled, holding you as if you'll break easily, just letting the tip of his cock kiss your precious throat. "Delicious. Fucking. Mouth." He grunts at every thrust. He stilled, your mouth overflowing with his white sticky cum.

He gently pulled you on his lap, "Did you just swallow it?" He asked, his stares at you were intense. You simply nodded "I did, am I good?" You were seeking validation amidst the forbidden thing you two have done. A playful smile shined on his face, "More than good, angel." He gently lays you on his chest, and you could feel his heart thumping as if it were about to burst out of his chest.

"Rest for a while, I'll wake you up before I leave." He said as his long fingers combed your smooth hair, he hugged you tight, pulling your blanket to cover the both of you.

He was in awe, how can you possibly sleep when it's still dangerous around you? He lays you on your bed, registering in his mind how you look. His hand travels around your body, lightly squeezing your neck as you gasp in your sleep. He pushed your shirt above your chest, scoffing at the sight, did you purposely not wear a bra the whole night he was here? He lightly pinches your nipple, rolling his fingers on it, making you squirm. His eyes traveled from your chest to your waist as he hovered above you.

His warm hands enveloped your tiny waist, smiling at how it first perfectly on his huge hand. His hands moved down, gently tugging your shorts off you. "What a little mess we have here." He mumbled, staring at how your panties stuck at your cunt. The baby blue piece of cloth was drenched with your slick. He moves it sideways, prodding his middle finger in your wet pussy. He touched you achingly slow, causing his cock to twitch inside his pants.

His hot tongue finally comes in contact with your cunt. He knows that you'll wake up anytime. "Wake up, pumpkin," he mumbles while lapping on your pussy. You grunt and squirm, feeling the uncomfortably extra wetness in your cunt. Your eyes fluttered open at Soobin eating you out. Your hands immediately clutched your mouth to refrain from being noisy. His tall nose kept on touching your clit, making it more sensitive. You clutched his blond locks, pulling him closer to your cunt as you chase your high.

"I-i'm gonna cum," you whispered, voice muffled as you were almost biting your hand. His two fingers entered you freely, pressing inside, finding your sweet spot. "Let me have a taste of you, kitten," he kept on lapping and pushing his fingers in and out of you, making you shudder and grip his hair tighter as you came on his tongue. Soobin gently sucked on your clit emitting soft whimpers from you.

He hovers above you once again, his veiny hands propped on both sides, his chest rising and falling, toned abs clenching. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, bringing out a condom packet. He wraps his cock in one swift motion, as he prepares at your entrance. He penetrates slowly, grunting at how tight you feel on him, he covers your mouth, "Don't you make a noise-fuck, I'm warning you pumpkin." He stilled inside as you gasped for air, "Stay still, I won't move for a while," he muttered as he kissed your forehead.

The once dark and dead night is almost gone. The bluish color of the sky makes the surroundings a little bit easier to see. You two came to your senses when you heard a knock, then the rattling sound of the door knob. "Fuck!" You shout-whispered, pushing Soobin off of you. He pulled out, both of you immediately wincing at the pain.

"Y/n?" Your brother called you, you panicked as you stood against the door instead of lying down on your bed. "What the hell are you doing there?" Soobin's furrowed as he whispered enough for you to hear.

"Have you seen Soobin?" Your brother asked, you were about to answer when Soobin pinned you on the door.

"Hey, is everything fine? I heard a noise." The rattling sound of your doorknob can be heard once again.

You faked a yawn, "I-i'm good! I just fell from bed! Ouch!" You made your voice as sleepy and hurt as possible but ends up shaky. "You sure? Should I come in?" He asked. "No! No need! I'm fine! I'm good!" You panicked.

"W-what were you asking again?"

"I said if you saw Soobin? Or did he talk to you before leaving or something?"

You gasped when you felt something penetrate you once again.

"Fucking tight, pumpkin." Soobin was gripping your waist, penetrating you from behind. He covered your mouth.

"Y/n?" Your brother knocks again.

Your legs were wobbly, about to give up. "Answer him. But be careful, you don't want him to know, do you?" The grin of mockery is once again plastered on his face. He started thrusting in you. "Shit, what a dirty doll. Likes being taken from the back." He pinned you more on the door, no longer muffling your mouth, making you whine and whimper, you clenched on his cock.

"What the fuck? Are you turned on? Oh fuck, you're really dirty." Soobin whispered in your ear.

"Hey, y/n, if you don't answer I'm gonna break this door open." Your brother's voice is irritated.

"Answer him, doll." Soobin taunted.

"I... I did not see h-him.. mmhhh.. maybe..maybe he had gone h-home." Your voice ends up whiny. "Please s-stop banging the door, i-i'm... I'm gonna sleep some m-more.." you tried your best to answer your brother. Soobin smirked.

"Maybe he did go home, his things are in no sight. Well then, I'll just call him later, rest more, I'll go to my room my head is spinning." You heard the footsteps gone faint. That's when Soobin started thrusting a bit harder on you.

You clawed the door, face pressed on the cold wood. Taking every thrust he's giving you.

"Shit, such a dirty slut." Soobin has been gripping your waist for too long, that you're sure it will leave marks later on. You clenched at his words once again. He scoffed, "Wow, you really love being degraded?" His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing it a little to restrain your lungs from acquiring oxygen. It makes you dizzy. Yet you love it. It makes you dizzy but you want him to cum inside you. It makes you dizzy but you crave for more.

"Good for nothing, cocksleeve." He keeps on pounding into you, bending you on the table near your door. You can't help but clench at his every word as he laughs lowly, enjoying what you two are sharing.

Your knees grew weaker. "Cum on my cock, I know you want it." He taunted. It was your last straw, "S-soobin.." you covered your mouth as you come undone, squirting all over his cock.

He bent down to your ear, licking your earlobe as he kept on pounding chasing his high once more. "Dirty. Fucking dirty. Fantasizing over her brother's best friend. Getting fucked and squirting on their cock." You wanted to cry at his words but it turns you on so much. He pulled out of you, discarding the condom and pumped his cock as he cums on your back.

He turned you around and kissed you, carrying you to the bed as he carefully laid you down. He picked up his discarded button-up shirt and wore it again.

"P-please don't tell him..." You tug at his shirt while he's buttoning it up.

"Your secrets are safe, my pretty slut." He saw how you melt at his words, he heard how you whine at his words. He pulled you for a kiss, a deep and passionate kiss. He removed something on his wrist and kissed your hand. His silver bracelet is now tied to yours, the cold metal kissing your skin makes you remember the heated moment you and Soobin shared.

You watch him peek outside your room as he steps out, tiptoeing to the front door.

@binniesbooks 2024

#faye's library #soobin's books #soobin x reader #soobin smut #soobin x you #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin x you #choi soobin smut #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #choi soobin imagines #choi soobin scenarios #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts

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pin-k-ink · 5 months

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rapture // illumi zoldyck

tw ⇢ enemies to lovers, assassin!reader, possessive!illumi, love confessions, sexual tension, teasing, grinding, dry humping, mentions of violence and injuries, overstimulation, making out, public sex, unprotected sex, squirting, begging, dirty talk, pet names, mild breeding kink, biting, manhandling, anal sex, mentions of marriage and pregnancy

wc ⇢ 16.1k

The ritzy hotel loomed ahead, all glass and gleaming opulence. You triple checked the dossier's details as you approached, though you hardly needed to. The shady businessman's daily routines, rotation of private security, all of it was committed to memory. This was meant to be a quick, seamless job - tail the mark to his swanky penthouse suite, neutralize him while he was alone, then disappear like a whisper back into the night.

At least, that was the plan before you noticed the other set of footprints in the bathroom's plush carpeting.

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.

"And I’m pretty sure I just fucked a baby into you, so-"

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