#the stealth insider suit

[baambastic]

Holy Batsuit references, Batman!

#i see the batman ninja suit #the zebra suit #the anti-Green Lantern suit #owlman’s suit #the zur-en-arrh suit #azrael’s batsuit #the 60s suit #the joel schumacher batsuit #the dc one million suit #the stealth insider suit #the sheldrake Knight suit #batman #batsuit #jason todd #the red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #kate kane #batwoman #dc comics #wfa spoilers #wfa season 2 #batman wayne family adventures #wayne family adventures #🐍

[cominy-kiwami]

if you got to sleep in a state of extreme exhaustion you will have vibrant and interesting dreams.

it had everything. a bossfight near akaushimaru on tenkaichi street. a remix of summer wind by frank sinatra. me being chased by armed men in the park near where i live. a man with a grevious painful injury of the mouth. a big rack of earrings at the store that reignited my longstanding goal to have my ears pierced.

it ended with me scrolling past a post that said "you are dreaming right now" and at first i thought okay that post takes place in a dream. then i realized that makes no sense and i must have been in a dream this whole time. and then i woke up one microsecond afterward.

#actually the more i think about it maybe that was my dream brain trying to play the normal version of summer wind #it had the same character of instrumental but the vocals were like rearranged #it kinda made things more verbose #instead of like 'the summer wind came blowin in' #it was more like 'did i ever tell you bout the summer wind came blowin in' #the earrings too were so cool #it was a rack inside a book store. they were like clocks or little christmassy paintings #so i was doing stealth against these people in the park who had guns #cant remember too much about that but i know that the #the bossfight on taihei was like i was being pursued by the leader of the men #and then the perspective changed from me to kiryu #it was the y6 iteration of him. although he was wearing a red suit a la ichiban #i guess thats how my brain reconciled the fact that i knew he was wearing red throughout y6 #and summer wind played as the ost of that fight. #there were cars creating dynamic stage hazards it was crazy and pretty stylish #quite a nice little journey if i say so myself #cant get mad about that sleeping experience

[qaxqxd]

Spider Lust

♡Pair: Miguel O’hara x Afab!reader

Genre: Smut

Warning: NSFW / Sexual content

A/n: Fulling my Janitor.ai roleplay (sigh) Also Miguel could release his venom on command if he wanted. (first time writing smut in forever.)

Summary: You and Miguel were on a mission to stop an anomaly in a lab. It was supposed to be a stealth mission. You both got caught red handed and were now hiding for it to die down a bit. Hiding in a small cramped space wasn’t a good idea, or.. Was it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Great, just absolutely great. You were in a tight space and sitting on your Boss’s lap. Just how you wanted to spend your Tuesday’s night.

“Stop moving around.” He whispered, gripping your waist.

“Your lap is uncomfortable.” You whine.

“You should have thought of that before you grab the USB.” Miguel spoke, seeming a little pissed.

“Why would I think about sitting on your lap?” You teased him.

“What?- No! You know what I mean.” He frowned. You couldn’t turn around to look at him, but you knew he was a little red.

I mean it was technically your fault that you were in this situation. You grab the USB without thinking it wasn’t guarded. You technically could have done this on your own too, but Miguel insisted on coming along. Now you know why. He probably predicted you would screw up or something.

Miguel always acted like he knew the future which was- True sometimes. He is trying to stop the multiverse from collapsing, so maybe he predicted your screw up. But goodness, his lap is uncomfortable. You tried to move a little closer into his lap. It was a little more comfortable, still uncomfortable.

“(Y/n) stop moving.” He whispers again, his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t listen and moved closer, until your back touched his chest. His grip on your waist tightens. You heard him grunt a little.

“My bad, it's just really uncomfortable on your lap.” You said. He had both hands on your waist trying to move you somewhere comfortable on his lap. He didn’t say anything after, so you scoot back to your original spot. Laying your head on his chest.

You heard his heartbeat, it was pretty fast. He was breathing heavily on your head.

“You alright, boss?” You spoke sort of concerned.

“Yeah, I’m. I’m fine.” He had his head buried in your shoulder. You felt a bump underneath yourself. You felt like you were sitting on a rock. You moved a little, not knowing you were grinding on his groin.

You felt him flinch.

“Please stop moving, (Y/n).” Miguel sounded like he was out of breath.

“What are you carrying in your pockets?” You asked, still moving a little. “My suit doesn’t have pockets.” He grunted.

A moment of silence went by when you realized what you were sitting on his cock. Your eyes widen and you turn all red.

“Shit- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

He crashes his lips onto yours. Exploring every part of your mouth. Shutting you up. You both let go to catch your breath. A string of saliva connects you two.

“I can’t resist you anymore, amor.” His words send shivers down your spine. You felt your core heat up.

“You can have me then.” You mumble. 

The look in his eyes was lust hungry. Using his claws to rip off your suit. He kissed your bare neck.

“You owe me a new suit.” You whisper. “Mhm..” He continues to kiss your neck caressing his fangs onto your neck. His hand going into your panties and feeling your folds.

“You're so wet for me, querida.” He teases, sliding his fingers inside of you. Pumping them in and out. You moan at the pleasure.

“Shh… You don’t want to get caught do you?” He coe.

As his pace picks up, you feel your climax rise. His large fingers felt so good. You jolted as you felt his fingers go deeper inside. Your back arch as he finds your g-spot. He kissed your lips, trying to silence your moans.

Miguel was using his other hand to play with your breast. Flicking your hard nipple with his thumb.

“Miguel- I’m, I’m close.” You whine. As you felt the waves of pleasure crash over you. You came on his fingers, riding your orgasm out. He took his fingers out of you, licking his fingers. You watched the nano tech disappear from his groin and his cock flinging out.

The bead of pre-cum dripping from his tip. Your eyes widen at his size. Miguel lifted your thigh up with one hand. As the tip of his cock enters you. He rubs your clit with his cock teasing you.

 “Put it in already.” You mewled as he slowly slid his lengthen into you. You felt so full, tears forming. 

“So needy” He chuckled lightly. 

You moaned out, as he started to thrust into you. You felt his cock so deep inside. He was throbbing inside of you. As pain turns into pleasure. You heard him groan as he picked up the pace. You tighten around his cock, but he was able to thrust in. His thick cock stretched your hole so much.

“Ah mami, you're so tight. Such a perfect fit for my cock.” He bullied your tiny cunt. Your eyes rolling back to the intense pleasure. Your only vocabulary was his name. As you came for the second time.

He rubbed your clit while thrusting into you. He loved that you came on his cock. He was hungry for more. His hips, bucking to your hole. His pace is a little sloppy from before. You clutch onto his back, basically digging your nails into him.

You came so many times afterwards, he fucked you stupid. You cried into his shoulder. As he release, you felt a hot liquid shoot into you, painting your walls.

“ngh.” You moaned, but Miguel covered your mouth with his hand. Your thighs trembling on his cock.

“You did so well.” He praised you. Miguel kissed your head. Exhaustion took over you, and you fell asleep. As for Miguel, he placed a long lab coat over you. Carrying you out of the cramp room as the coast was clear.

Back to HQ with the USB.

Mission succeed? 

-

WC 1k

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel o'hara x f!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara

[mamayan]

★LOVE★

Darling! Hisoka Morow x Yandere! Reader

cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Fem! Reader • Noncon turned Dubcon • Yandere Themes • Murder • Emotional Instability • Yandere! Reader • Drug usage • HC • PIV

This is not “reader” inclusive as I’d assume nearly 99.9% of you do not exhibit true yandere traits. This is written with a female yandere in mind. No other physical descriptors will be used, but “reader” will have psychological descriptors and habits which will likely not match the majority. Please keep this in mind while reading. Thank you!

To become so obsessed with a psychotic mass murdering clown magician like Hisoka, you’d need to be a special breed. Harley Quinn style if you will, but incorporating an even more massively unhealthy level of adoration and blindness.

Since Hisoka is a whimsical sociopath and amoral character, it’d likely attract someone that is… surprisingly selfless and mildly antisocial. His attitude and way of life likely trigger feelings of envy and jealousy at first within you. Why does he get to be so carefree? Why can’t you just slaughter your entire place of work when they piss you off?

So starts the morbid curiosity. Who is Hisoka Morow?

You’d see him in passing a time or two, maybe you’d even witness him kill or target an individual in battle. You’d stay undetected by Hisoka. This requires great skill in nen-ability and you’d likely be a pro-Hunter or something along those lines. You’d need to be incredibly powerful and a good strategist to have Hisoka as a darling. Specializing in stealth/tracking/spying would all do you well in aiding to observe stalk Hisoka.

He’d take a life so easily it’d stun you. His lack of remorse after even more. How does he feel so little? Why is he so easily aroused in battle? Why can’t you look away? Rationality will need to take a backseat in this budding crush you have. It won’t bloom into what you call “love” until he does something that speaks to you personally.

It’ll be entirely mundane too.

He’ll do one thing that will capture your heart. Maybe it’s when he spares Gon and Killua. He’d claim it’s because they’ll make worthy opponents later. You’ll see it as something else.

Once your feelings for him are established, it’s impossible to find fault with him anymore. Everything he does is perfect, utterly adorable and fascinating, and he’s a silly kitten who can do no wrong in your mind. His clawed finger nails are proof that the most harm he can do is claw up some curtains.

Hisoka is constantly on the move, traveling often and usually very light. He does have a few spaces he uses more like storage than actual living quarters. This where you spend time when you aren’t observing him. Going through his things, envisioning a future with him, imagining him tied to the bed.

You’ll be delusional but no so much you believe you can have him without force. Wild cats are hard to tame after all, and a superiority complex over Hisoka will begin to develop the longer you watch and learn about him. You’ll likely have dug up all the skeletons of his past. You believe you know him best, who else understands him so well but you?

This dig includes any lovers or even potential lovers. They’re in the way and need to be gotten rid of. You can’t let them ruin him now can you?

Finding all of his past lovers isn’t easy, especially without alerting him to anything suspicious at first. Thankfully, despite his track record of murders, his love life is stale at best. A few hookups when he was younger, no long term relationships, but he does have a notable relationship with a female from the Phantom Troupe.

Machi, a beautiful woman which Hisoka blatantly flirts with. More than the usual too, it holds a level of sexual tension which invokes unparalleled rage inside you. It’s ironically not directed at Machi, but she’ll bear the brunt of it anyway.

Hisoka is given both a sick and delightful surprise when Machi’s severed head is delivered to his hotel suite in a box. A love poem hand written by you in it, but it’s a warning for him too.

It’s a grotesque combination, but it’ll most certainly catch his attention. A bouquet might’ve sufficed too, but Hisoka will now know of your existence. He doesn’t think this is a love note though, he thinks this is revenge. He’ll be angry too, because whether Machi was ever a real love rival or not, she was someone he wanted to fight. His designated prey was caught and killed before he even had a true chance of tasting victory over them. That must mean you are an even better treat.

It’ll drive you wild seeing how desperate he becomes to track you down and find you. He comes close a few times too, but always just out of reach. His real niche laying in combat unlike you. It feels romantic in a sense, and it’ll drive the fantasy further that you two are meant to be together. He’s meant to be yours isn’t he? As you begin leaving even more obvious hints of your presence in his life, he’ll realize it’s not revenge you’re seeking.

He’ll figure out he’s got a perverted little stalker when he finds your cute lace panties left for him to find. No need to mention you’d touched yourself on his bed to the thought of him and came in them. It’ll be fairly obvious from the fact that he hasn’t been to this particular hideout in a while and it’s spotless. No dust. Everything perfect, but he didn’t clean before he left this one. Then he’ll see on the unmade bed, a clear sign of a woman having intruded and marked the area. Strands of your hair. Your scent. Your clothes.

Still, he won’t catch you. He’ll bait you too, and sometimes you wonder if you’ve been caught only to realize he just knows he’s always being watched now. He doesn’t know your exact location or if you actually are there. “I liked your gift… hmm, but it would’ve been a nicer surprise to see you in them~” he’s flirtation and goading. It’ll be difficult to resist him, when he’s seemingly speaking straight at you. You know the moment you reveal yourself though, he’s not going to drop to his knees and offer himself to you. It’ll be a battle on sight. Though the thought of him getting aroused because of fighting you… makes you itch to throw caution to the wind.

Instead you clear any and all traces of your presence for several long months, until Hisoka grows avidly annoyed and then slowly disinterested, moving on to other opponents and amusements. Being in your line of work means a very much endless cash flow, the resources available to keep up with your favorite pass time of just watching him in all his glory. He’s perfection, even as his face twists up into a manic monstrous expression as he slaughters his victims, you see nothing but an angel. Never mind the screams and begging for mercy, isn’t he so cute when he plays a magic trick for them? It’s easy to become overwhelmed with jealously occasionally, but you’re good at being patient and reminding yourself that person isn’t special, Hisoka is just entertaining himself.

It’s also hard to remind yourself you aren’t special either. While it takes a certain sense of superiority over a darling to develop yandere tendencies, you’re also affected by an inferiority complex about the world. This means you’re isolated in how you interact with the world, no close friends or relatives, no real hobbies outside of what assists you with your work, hardly any social interactions that aren’t required. This is what makes Hisoka so fascinating, and it’s also what starts your real downward spiral to depravity.

What makes you truly snap and lose control to your yandere tendencies , is nothing other than Hisoka himself.

He’s coming down from a recent high of a fight in Heaven’s Arena, only showing up due to being challenged as a floor master, but the fight had been surprisingly up to his standards. His opponent was both entertaining and thrilling until their end. He was in a good mood, a very good one, so when a spectator approached him batting their lashes and hinting at spending the night in his suite… he said yes.

That was strike one.

Strike two was the audacity of the piece of shit throwing themself at him. You carefully followed, silent and untraceable as sexual tension began to rise in the elevator all three of you shared. Only they thought it was just them.

Strike three. Wasn’t your presence at least somewhat obvious? It’s highly delusional on your end to become enraged at other’s ignorance to your presence despite your mastery of hiding it. It’s what allowed you to watch Hisoka so long after all, but illogical as it is, you were still pissed. Furious at both of them but now mostly at Hisoka. Who was leaning over them, letting his height and teeth aching sugary tone seduce this common stray off the street like they were his personal favorite. They weren’t. He didn’t have any real favorites. Only toys that were disposable and this was no different but it didn’t matter because he was yours. And it seemed he needed to learn this.

Even Hisoka can be taken off guard, especially with his pants feeling too tight and the piece of ass before him being all to eager to please.

He’s unconscious when you finally reveal yourself. The deafening scream echoing throughout the elevator as it finally reached Hisoka’s designated floor and opening. Unfortunately for the poor soul screaming who was just looking to get laid, you weren’t in the mood to grant them anything less than a brutal death.

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up shut shut up!” Your fist broke bone with each strike, until your victim lay unrecognizable and very dead. You’d released your nen, and every nen user in this entire Arena now knows you’re here, all because anger got the best of you.

It didn’t matter, because even with the corpse at your feet, you were still furious.

You took both Hisoka and the body out of the elevator and swiftly worked to clean up the damage and fluids. You didn’t need the Arena fining you again. Hisoka was out cold, but he’s quick to recover so you work on getting him into his suite and bed, working his wrists into nen blocking steel cuffs. He’s spread like a star fish, each limb hooked to the fancy bed posts. You muttered anxiously as you dug around your bag, hands shaking as you pulled out a small leather pouch about the size of your palm.

It might seem overkill, but chaining and drugging ensured your personal safety once he woke up.

Never mind the fact that you could just leave after disposing of the body. Your heart fluttering and cheeks flushing as you looked upon his unconscious body on the bed prevented you from acting within reason. No, you wanted him to see you, if for no other reason than to establish where he was.

Beneath you.

Hiding your presence and that of the corpse, you quickly left the building with Hisoka’s key card to properly rid yourself of the responsibility and allow yourself to fully focus on Hisoka.

Returning was quick and painless, this time not revealing your presence until back in Hisoka’s suite.

His face was angelic while he slept, though his head would likely ache from the powerful blow you landed to the back to get him in this state. You contented yourself with just watching him for the next hour or so, until with no warning, he woke up. It was odd how he didn’t even twitch. Just suddenly aware of his situation and surroundings, alertness to his features immediately. You wished it was a sleepier and cuter wake up, but you still found it adorable how on guard he was instantly.

Those lovely gold orbs landed on you and narrowed, despite his sly smile. He might appear relaxed and languid for someone chained up and hardly able to move their body due to relaxants circulating their system, but you knew he was furious. Hisoka, as much as he loves playing with others, hates being played with. You stayed silent, letting him observe and calculate, allowing him time to run through his options and every plausible scenario.

“Well… good morning Ms. Stalker.” His airy words sent visible shivers down your spine, his eyes and focus, for the first time entirely on you. He also seemed to note your reaction, his smile sharp and predatory. “Oh? You like the nickname? Bad girl… don’t you know not to play with magic?” He tested his restraints, with surprisingly more strength than you thought he’d have after injecting him. He’d require another dose then. You were quick to work on that, his eyes tracking your movements and realizing your objective.

“Not even going to let me play?” He didn’t resist as you sterilized his arm before injecting him with a fourth dose. Three should’ve been enough to tranquilize an elephant but Hisoka wasn’t a normal human. He flexed his hands and twisted his wrists, copying the same with his feet and ankles. The cuffs were made specifically for him. You’d kindly taken off his shoes and socks, but his shirt and pants remained on. You felt your throat constrict and thighs clench at the thought of him naked. You’d already seen it a multitude of times but he hadn’t known you did. Watching him shower and change so shamelessly.

“You look ready to eat me. Is that what this is dear? You got jealous when I brought another up here?” His nickname for you threw you off, your eyes widening and meeting his teasing gaze. He looked sinfully beautiful like this, at your mercy yet still so him. You licked your lips, feeling mildly nervous now that you were about to speak to him. This was too good an opportunity to pass up though.

“Yes,” he paused when you finally answered, “I…I was very jealous.” Your hands gripped the bottom of your shirt, the material bunching as the earlier annoyance was brought back to your attention. You grimaced, “This wasn’t really how I intended for you to meet me for the first.”

“Oh? But we’re here nonetheless aren’t we?” His tone was a bit snarky, but he was correct. What did you do now? Make every little fantasy you had come true?

“How about this, yes? You take these off and I give you a painless death. Isn’t that nice of me?” His words have your eyes snapping up to his face, his words not matching his sweet expression. He wanted to kill you? Not even fight? You frowned, a low boiling of rage in the pit of your stomach.

“You think you hold any power here?” You sneered back at him, walking to look down at his sorry figure chained up and at your mercy. He was being a brat. You backhanded him swiftly, his head cracking to the side at the force and momentum. His pale skin already reddening as a small trail of blood tricked down his chin. His gaze was on fire as he turned back to look up at you. Defiant and piercing, but his smile never wavered. “How about this, Hisoka, you stay right where you are, and maybe I’ll be nice and let you finish tonight.” His eyes widened, a small moment of shock taking over his features but he quickly schooled them again.

You began undressing swift, throwing your clothes to the floor until you were only in your underwear. Your chest heaved, nipples tightening under the cool air of the room and Hisoka’s gaze. You couldn’t place his expression exactly, a combination of desire and rage most likely. You climbed atop the bed and thus him, knees on either side of his hips as you made light work of his shirt. Shredding the garment and tossing it to join your clothes. His pants were next, now both of you almost completely naked and staring at one another.

“Is this your idea of a good time Ms. Stalker? Tying up innocent magicians and having your way with them?” You laugh at this sentence, because it was silly to think too much about. He was still being light and teasing but he was exuding a little bit of bloodlust.

“No Hisoka, my idea of a good time is just you in general.” You placed a cold hand on his abdomen, sliding it up gently until it reached his throat. “Watching you, hearing you, smelling you…” your eyes trailed up his naked torso to his lips for a moment, before connecting your gazes. “This is your fault really. I didn’t ask to be haunted by you, I didn’t ask to feel like this, I didn’t ask to want someone so badly I’d gladly watch this word burn if it meant you’d be entirely mine.” It was a deeply disturbing confession. You sat down, right over his erection where you could grind your pussy against him and elicit a beautiful hiss of pleasure and pain from him. “I can’t, oh, I can’t decide if I want to own you or be you really,” you panted, beginning a slow rock of your hips as your arousal soared. The object of all your affection beneath you, looking so much like a cat being bathed it brought a small smile to your lips. This was all turning you on, and he seemed to also be enjoying himself somewhat.

“I very much would love to humor you dear, but I really do recommend you remove these.” He dropped his facade, his expression turning dark as he realized how unlikely you were to release him. You were clearly deranged, maybe more so than himself. He tugged against his chains, the rattling echoing around the room but it only served to make you amused. Despite his words, his hips had begun to lightly buck up into you now. Both of your underwear soaked through, a combination of your slick and his precum. His voice and tone sent your hormones flying to cloud nine, your face starting to look intoxicated as you gazed down at him with obsession.

“You say you want them off but do you really want this to end? I could just… leave you here. All night. Maybe I’ll come back just to make sure you, haah, stay hard?” You were panting and a little sweaty, breasts heaving as you became more intoxicated by the moment and him. You looked spelled bound and he looked downright menacing. Of course, because out of all things, Hisoka likes control. His flirtatious attitude can not be mistaken as submissive, but here you were forcing him into such a role. Threatening him with a punishment if he didn’t behave like a dog.

It made him want to bite you like one.

“Pretty Ms. Stalker could’ve told me she wanted her little pussy filled, no need to go to such lengths-tss!” He flinched when you finally fished his cock free, your soft cool hand a striking contrast to his pulsing hot shaft.

“You’re so pretty Hisoka.” You were lost to your own fantasies, not really registering his words anymore. He realized it quickly as you focused all your attention on his leaking cock, impressed by the size and girth. It would hurt, taking him, but the thought of stretching around him was driving you wild.

But first… you dropped your chest low and opened your mouth. Your tongue had him groaning low, the sound of his teeth grinding together had you even wetter than before. You licked from base to tip, slow and sensual. He tasted sweet. Not salty or bitter like you imagined and it had you quickly and messily taking him into your mouth.

For all you were, you weren’t experienced. This was your first blowjob but you prayed not your last, because as you choked and gagged to take more him, he was losing it himself. What you lacked in experience and skill, you were making up for in enthusiasm and pure need to please. Observing his reactions as you let his tip finally sink into your throat even as tears pricked your eyes and fell down your cheeks. It burned and ached, but you pushed the pain down as you watched him. He finally gave in and kept your gaze as you worked to make him cum, sucking and taking him as deep into your throat as you could. You were making an absolute mess of his cock and balls, slobbering all over him. It was erotic and truly enticing, and the only indication he was close was the twitch of his lip and his hips trying to make you take even more of him.

You tried to get all of him in your throat when he came, but you failed by an inch or so. You stayed still as his hot cum coated your throat and mouth, moaning at his musky sweet flavor and making sure to suck and milk him for any leftover until he was choking on his own moans for you.

You made sure to clean him up nicely, licking and making sure even his balls weren’t missed. When you finally pulled back to look at him, you nearly passed out at the sight.

He was slightly sweaty, breathing a little heavier with half lidded eyes glaring and grinning viciously at you. His cheeks flushed, the left slightly bruised from your earlier hit. His lips red and bitten, a bit of blood still leftover on his chin. He looked gorgeous. You couldn’t be blamed when you were stumbling off the bed to grab your camera from your bag. No need to turn the flash off since he knows of your presence now.

He scowls as you snap his picture, looking beautiful and ruined just for you.

“I- sorry- I just need this okay?” You set the camera down, eager to return and continue touching him and exploring.

He snorted, looking at you in disbelief with mild amusement. “Is that so? You needed to photograph me naked?”

“What? No. I have lots of those already. I wanted one of your face after I made you cum.” He seemed flabbergasted at your answer, but you couldn’t help your eager hands from cupping his cheeks and leaned down over his face. “You’re just so pretty I can’t help it.” You told him honestly, his expression relaxing into something neutral as he observes you. Fine by you, as you begin kissing his face, hair, cheek you hit and then his neck. You lick and suck over his pulse, enjoying the masculine groan as you mark him up and lick his sweat. You’re trembling as you wiggle down to his chest, playing with his nipples. Swirling your tongue elicits the best response, his back arching lightly and proving your theory that his nipples are sensitive.

His hardening cock beneath you all the proof you need, your own nipples pebbled and aching as you drag your chest against his while you work.

When he bucks up again underneath you, you finally release his nipple with a pop. Looking at his tossed and adorably fucked appearance, you shiver. His hair messy from throwing his head into the pillows. You licked your lips, finally clumsily trying to get out of your underwear but failing because of your position. With a huff of annoyance you just tore them off, finally completely naked and slightly embarrassed by his stare.

It hardly mattered if he liked what he saw, you weren’t so far gone that you thought you looked anything like his earlier willing catch which you’d crushed- “Pretty thing aren’t you?” You paused your internal rambling when he spoke. His voice low and husky, not as flirtatious and teasing like his usual tone. You’d never heard him use this voice before, you eyes meeting his with curiosity.

He chuckled, but his bloodlust from earlier was gone like it had never happened, “What’s wrong? You were so eager just a moment ago, don’t tell me you’re shy now? Is Ms. Stalker a virgin?”

His goading voice was back, covering up his earlier tone like it’d been a mistake. Though you were surprised he hit the nail on the head. You were a virgin. Not because you lacked people willing to fuck you, but because you lacked interpersonal skills to have a normal relationship. Intimacy terrified you before you’d fallen for Hisoka, but after it was all you seemed to want. To touch him, feel him, make him feel good. You wanted him desperately.

“I won’t be much longer.” You looked away and solidified your resolve as you moved to hover above him again, your dripping cunt begging to be filled. You balanced using one hand on his hip, the other gripping his once more hard cock and lining him up with your entrance. You let his tip brush through your sensitive folds as you shakily released a breath. You took one small peak at his face, his eyes watching you like how a hawk might watch it’s prey.

You let his tip breach your entrance, no surprise that it stung. You didn’t prep yourself at all, and though you were wet enough, you wished you’d thought to carry a little lube in case this scenario ever occurred. It didn’t matter though because even if it hurt you were being connected to him and it made your chest swell with pride and happiness.

“Fuck, you’re tight- ah” he threw his head back and grit his teeth again, your gummy walls simultaneously sucking him in and pushing him out. It had him close already embarrassingly enough. The pleasure and pain mind numbing.

You’d only taken half of him but it was leaving you breathless, “m’trying” you could only gasp as you struggled to push more of him in, tears pricking your eyes once more as the pure stretch of his cock inside you was turning your brain off. It hurt but it felt good too.

“If you take these off, I’ll happily finish the job you’ve started dear~” Despite his tone, his face looked just as aroused and strained as your own. It was tempting, but deep down you really didn’t trust him. It came from knowing him that you didn’t trust him in the least. You shook your head, denying his prompting. His laugh is dark, even as his hips surge up to force another few inches into you. You cry out, bracing against his chest as you fall forward a bit. He does it again, sinking into you until finally you feel your hips meet and his tip kiss deeply into your cervix. You lay panting against his chest for a moment as his cock pulses inside you, your body pathetically struggling to adjust to his size.

“Take them off while I’m being nice.” He’s not asking, but still you shake your head and push yourself up, moaning as he sinks even deeper. Your hips take on an unsteady rhythm, testing the depth that feels the best but his hips throw you off each time you find the perfect angle. The stretch and friction drive you wild, your mind numbing to the pain and pleasure as you feel the coil inside you close to snapping.

“Feels good~” your moaning loudly, face fucked out and teary eyes locking with Hisoka’s. His eyes are burning, face scrunched up in frustration because your pace isn’t quite fast enough, nor is he hitting as deep as he’d like. His chains clink against the steel posts, you’re too distracted though to pay attention as you desperately work your hips towards your finish, bouncing on his dick. “M’gonna cum Hisoka” your deliriously close, the coil right about to snap-

When his chains do first.

“Huh,” You only get a split second to panic before he’s on you, breaking each steel bedpost and freeing his movement up again. His cuffs are still secured for a second but it’s meaningless a moment later when they shatter. His nen stored up enough to cancel their purpose of restraining him despite how much you’d paid that specialist who guaranteed no one could get out of them. Never mind that he should still be drugged up enough to he struggling to move at all.

You find your positions switched, your back hitting the mattress as you gaze up into his eyes now.

It’s silent for a moment, save your own pounding heart and icy fear now filling your veins. He just… looks at you. His face blank, eyes calculating but just when you decide it’s best to fight than let him slaughter you like this, he laughs.

Not like normal. This is borderline hysterical laughter, his hand wrapping around his torso as he howls with laughter.

Before you can activate your ability, he’s got a hand wrapped around your throat and squeezing just enough to warn you. “Did you think this would all just work out how you wanted dear?” You were scared, that was true, but as he nudged your thighs apart and dragged his still hard cock through your folds teasingly, you realized you were also horrifically aroused too.

All of your fantasies had you on top, because you didn’t trust him not to kill you if he was, if he even wanted to willingly touch you at all.

“Look at you~ poor thing,” he’s mockingly sweet as he leans over you, long tongue coming out to lick your tears off your cheek. As he leaned back, you truly didn’t expect his hand to leave your neck and slap you across the face. The sting follows after his hit lands, but it shocks you silly more than it actually hurts. You don’t have too long to think before he’s shoving himself back in, and your too far gone to stop the orgasm that slams into you. “Wait!” It too late even as you cry out, hands desperately grabbing on to something to anchor you. Him.

He hisses, face vicious as he stares down at you, “Did you really just cum?” His voice somewhat incredulous as he feels you twitch and writhe beneath him. He stayed still, letting you shakily come down from your high before he’s rocking into you.

Then he’s fucking you just how he likes. Hands gripping your hips in a death grip as he slams himself into your overstimulated cunt over and over. He leaves you mewling and fucked stupid beneath him as he mercilessly thrusts into you like a rag doll. You can’t keep up. Can hardly speak besides useless babbling, only making him laugh and sarcastically mock you for it.

“What’s wrong dear? Isn’t this what you wanted? Am I just so deep inside you~?” Cooing as you nod and cry harder.

It’s when he kisses you that you cum again. He tastes like bubblegum and you’re gone, creaming his cock as his tongue tangled with you own messily. It all feels too good, your arms wrapping around his neck, legs around his waist, while you just struggle to take it. His tip pounding away in a spot that has you gasping and sobbing below him, because despite everything, this is the most pleasure you’d ever felt. It was disorienting and left you mildly numb, his sharp claws trailing down your chest softly to settle his thumb over your clit and press until you came again.

This one was slightly painful, your muscles constricting so hard Hisoka finally fell over the edge himself. His moans so pretty, soft and deep as his hips still move despite him emptying himself inside you.

He recovers first, staring down at the pretty thing in his arms struggling to catch her breath.

You’d given quite the headache for a while now, but tonight really took everything up a notch. You certainly weren’t halfhearted, something of which he respected. You weren’t a weak thing either, his thrusts harsh enough to break a normal human’s hips, but you just looked fucked stupid. It was cruel of him to be so rough, but then again you’d really brought it on yourself hadn’t you?

You’d brought all this onto yourself, and whatever happened in the future too.

Because now he was a little hooked as well, and you were just too cute and interesting to leave alone now that he’s tasted you. Had you first.

He easily reached over to snag your camera, switching it on and snapping a picture of you still shaking and twitching with his cock still buried inside you and beginning to grow hard again.

Realization dawned on you, but even as you tried to move and get away from him, he had your wrist locked above your head to stop that nonsense.

“Nu-uh dear, I’m not finished. Not even a little.” His lustful gaze and sadistic smirk had you looking like a frightened animal, but it only served to rile him up further.

It’s after all, your fault for loving someone like him, right?

It’s important to note that once Hisoka becomes interested, he treasures it. But something he treasures one day can become trash the next… until you.

Hisoka is surprisingly a willing darling. Don’t think this reverses any roles, he’s not submissive to you in the slightest. He acts like a total brat but he’s dominant through and through, don’t expect to ride him unless he’s got full control to just fuck up into you.

He’s needier than you’d expect too. Not just with sex, that’s constant, but also in just having your company. He likes when you talk to him, interact with him, don’t expect to go back into observing from the sidelines. He’s all to happy to give you front row seats.

He’s just as jealous as you are, but he’ll purposely play into your jealousy by flirting with other women to rile you up. He just likes how you look enraged, finds it cute. If you do the same, he’ll make that individual sit tied to a chair while he fucks you in front of them until you can’t even apologize anymore. Then he’ll kill them. He welcomes the same treatment. You get a bit shy acting it out.

Bonnie and Clyde duo!

He’s not a yandere, though he gets jealous, he’s just a psychopath in general. He’ll still be Hisoka no matter what. While you can interact normally with others when necessary, your fixation on him will remain an outlier. Hisoka is just trash to everyone, and surprisingly decent to you. By your low standards.

He likes ice-cream and ice-cream dates. He’s an ice-cream date man.

Illumi doesn’t understand your relationship but respects your devotion. Wonders why more women can’t be like you. Hisoka likes that his friend is envious of what he has.

Enjoy your darling, he’s frustrating and difficult but all yours now!

Dividers by @benkeibear

#tw: dark content #tw: dubcon #hisoka morow #Hunter x Hunter #hisoka HxH #hisoka x reader #hisoka x fem! reader #hisoka morow smut #darling hisoka #hisoka smut #yandere #yandere reader #fem! Yandere #yandere x darling #yandere HxH #dividers by benkeibear

[htchnr]

★ thrill of the hunt ❥ A. HOTCHNER.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon. ➻❥ kinktober masterlist.

🎃 KINKTOBER PROMPT ➥ hunting kink + unsub!hotch.

CW ➥ outdoor sex ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ piv sex ⋆ semi public sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ slight knifeplay ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

WC ➥ 1,8k. SONG ➥ tear you apart , she wants revenge.

SUMMARY ➥ he’s restless. he hasn’t been on a hunt in a while, in fact, since you’ve been together. you’ve never told him to stop, but you can sense he doesn’t want you to see that side of him, coming home late at night covered in blood that isn’t his. so you help him in your own way.

★ - © 2023 HTCHNR. do not copy, share or translate my work to this platform, or any other! - ★

he’s restless. he hasn’t been on a hunt in a while, in fact, since you’ve been together. you’ve never told him to stop, but you can sense he doesn’t want you to see that side of him, coming home late at night covered in blood that isn’t his. the novelty of domestic life suits him, he likes cuddling with you, lazy mornings.

tonight though, you watch his side profile as he reads, watch his eyes flick over the same page several times, unseeing. he fidgets his knee up and down and slides his hand over his jaw, tapping a finger against his top lip. he’s so handsome, warm looking, alluring, and you realize with a rush that goes from your head to your cunt that you want him.

“hey.” you say, breaking the taut silence of the room, he looks up from his book, blue eyes focussed on yours. “i want us to play a game.” he stares at you while you explain your idea, smirking first with amused adoration, then slightly patronizing as he tilts his head.

“hide and seek? with me that wouldn’t be much of a game honey.”

“no.” shaking your head you stand and stretch your limbs, reveling in the way his dark eyes track your movements.

“i want you to hunt me.”

he pauses, thinking it through for a second. “since you interrupted my reading you better run extra fast.” he almost growls then, his usually sweet eyes gone impossibly dark.

“get to running sweetheart.” his voice low and threatening almost.

“fuck fuck fuck” you mutter out loud, almost forgetting that the whole point of the game is for him to find you. suddenly it feels very real. after all, he’s a killer, using both stealth and skill. one girl is nothing to him, a speck of dirt that is easily rubbed out.

reminding yourself that this man loves you and would never kill you doesn’t stop the pounding in your heart as you pause at a fallen tree, wondering if you can fit inside. you realize the game is exciting you just as much, even though you’ve done this for him, to help his boredom, you feel simultaneously afraid and aroused— it’s confusing as hell.

when people hide on tv or in films it’s never so messy. you cringe as dirt slides over your skin from the tree, matted leaves catch in your hair and your legs are awkwardly twisted. still, you’re inside the rotted trunk, and you’re hidden, at least to regular human eyes. you don’t have to lay still for long before you hear him coming. he’s not attempting to be quiet, but is humming under his breath, almost taunting you.

“i’m coming to get you sweetheart..” he sing-songs and you bite your lip not to whimper.

his footsteps pause, and you imagine him, scanning the trees for any sign of you. the urge to see him in his hunter pose is too much and you peek out through a crack in the tree trunk, you can’t resist a look, even if it costs you the game. he stood, the darkness of the night swallowing him along with the darkness of the forest.

his attitude has changed, and he looks nothing like the soft, charming man you’re used to seeing everyday. his shoulders are tight, his hands twitching by his sides— his left hand hovering above his knife that sits in it’s sheath. he’s grinning, his eyes are two black focused orbs, sweeping the scene.

it is amazing to see him like this, and as he moves towards you in one smooth, animalistic movement fear combines with desire, licking up the bottom of your spine. almost ripping the tree apart he unearths you, pulling you out from your hiding place, his hands under your armpits, lifting you as if you’re a child, or a rag doll— the ice cold blade of the knife pressed against your throat.

“i told you to run” he murmurs, the look in his eyes is dangerous, his chest is heaving with panting breaths, his voice is rough and low and betrays his arousal even if you couldn’t see the outline of his cock pressing hard against the fly of his jeans.

“i did” you whimper as he glares and bends his head to kiss you unrelentingly, nipping your bottom lip viciously.

“not far enough, not fast enough.”

“i tried Aaron, let me up…” you struggle intentionally weak against him and he holds you easily with a snide look in his eyes.

“i won the game.. i should get my prize.”

“your prize? oh… “ you words dissolve into a shameless moan as he simultaneously bites your neck and the cold knife tears through your shirt, his rough hands groping your breasts and pinching your nipples. You moan as you move your fingers to his zipper, yanking it down and pull his aching cock out, hot and throbbing against your palm as you stroke him. his mouth falls open as he lets out a strained breath, moving his larger hand on top of yours to force you to speed up your strokes. he seems to want it rough, and you feel exactly the same way.

his hands hold you easily, cupping your spine as he shoves you down on a patch of dry leaves. he crawls on top of you, his hips jerking a little as if of their own accord. “put your hands above your head.” he commands with a raspy voice and you nod, following the direction, twisting them together as if bound, and looking up at him imploringly.

pinning you with a glare he kisses you again moving his hand inside your underwear— swearing when he finds you soaking, pushing two fingers inside you desperate to feel your heat, before he regains control of himself and moves them teasingly in and out, never quite hard or deep enough. “i see.. you like this, you like the chase?” he asks. you moan pathetically, eyes rolling back.

���i like being caught.” you pant, trying to grind down against his hand hard enough to get yourself off.

“turn over.” he groans. “if you like being hunted like an animal i’m going to fuck you like one.”

thrilled, you scramble on all fours, glad to be off the hard ground— you wonder somewhere in the back of your mind if he’s doing this for your comfort. he hovers over you and you hear the clink of metal as he undoes his belt, the sound sending an unexpected bolt of arousal through you, he pulls back on your hips so your ass is cushioned against him and pushes inside you with one smooth stroke, not waiting to let you adjust before starting to move. you cry out as he sinks in and out over and over.

you clench your eyes shut as you shamelessly moan. he grins darkly, moving his fingers between your legs and rubbing your clit as he plows deeper inside you. you scramble for something to hold but he just holds you, fucking into you and you have no choice just to let him bounce you on his cock, let him touch you until you feel as if you were about to explode.

“Aaron! fuck.. please..” you plead, not even sure what you’re begging for as he slides one hand up your throat, pressing the cold blade flat against the hot skin of your throat. your thighs pressing together make you feel even tighter to him, and the sounds leaving his lips against your ear, the filth spilling from his usually smooth and composed self even during sex gives you a clue he’s just as lost as you are.

“scream all you want, no one can hear you out here.." he mutters in your ear. His lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he urges you towards your climax both with his filthy words and the never ending stroke of his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. bucking back against him you let yourself go, clenching around him and riding out the pleasure as you cry out, tears trickling down your cheeks. he holds you as you fall apart, pausing just to revel in the sensations before he picks up his brutal pace again, the knife being thrown down into the dirt as his arm reaches around your throat, resting against your shoulders.

he thrusts a few more times, his balls slapping against your cunt so deliciously as he finally comes inside you with a loud guttural moan, his warm cum painting your walls as he fucks it into you.

He pulls out, his sticky cum pouring out of your abused hole— dropping onto the leaves with obscene splats. he hovers above you on the forest floor for a few moments before he comes back to himself, realizing you’re both outside at night on damp leaves amongst bugs and god knows what else. he let’s out a shuddered groan as pulls you up. your knees shake shamefully and you lean into his solid side with a grateful sigh.

he helps you back to the house, shoving you in front of the fireplace, not speaking while he fusses round you, washing the dirt off your face with a warm washcloth, picking the leaves out of your hair and frowning at the scratches on your arms as if they personally offended him.

“i’m okay..” you reassure him, your eyes heavy with post-sex bliss. you wonder how you can convince him that you enjoyed the game and that you are not so breakable as he thinks. he knows you well though, and as he lifts you up to bed and pulls you on top of him, your head resting on his hot chest. he nips at your ear, sending a wave of lust through your exhausted body.

“we are definitely doing that again..” squealing quietly with glee you hug him tighter to you and slowly fall asleep, happy knowing you have a man who is willing to take such good care of you, but also fuck you into the ground with a knife against your throat if you ask for it.

TAGLIST ➥ @toastbrot8410 @mrs-ssa-hotch @fictionallifestuff @weirdothatwritess @crystalflwr @stella95827 @taintedstranger @mija-novella @gffesegjoiegj @bubbly-parker @mediocremalachor15 @goldenangelwingsandcandy @0nex-is-dead0 @2hiigh2cry @the-1n0nly @hotchsdharma @tgskitten @crystlroses @notforeverlong @emmeilyy @whatisthereality

#⋆୨🩷©2023 htchnr #⋆୨⭐️aaron hotchner #⋆୨🎃2023 kinktober #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotch hotchner x reader #hotch smut #hotch imagine #hotch x reader

[pin-k-ink]

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-"

#hxh smut #hxh x reader #hxh x reader smut #hunter x hunter smut #hunter x hunter x reader smut #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #illumi x reader smut #illumi smut #illumi x reader #hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi zoldyck smut #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck x reader smut

[mockerycrow]

Smut prompt 55 w/ gn reader and Soap would be so… 😏 like- I’m imagining it’s on a mission and they have to hide from the enemy and get crammed in a little closet together or sm, and to make matters worse the door gets blocked from the outside so now they have a few hours to kill before someone can evac them

KILLIN’ TIME (Soap x GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

a/n; again, i’m so sorry this is late!! this is also quite short </3

prompt: "it's my thigh or nothing, im not helping you get off."

[WARNINGS; nsfw, dry humping, close proximity, readers genitals are not described, tension.]

You could not think of a worse situation than the one you find yourself in. You’re paired up with Soap for a stealth mission; go in undetected, grab the hard drives from the fourth floor and slip out with no casualties and no witnesses. Something that seemed so simple when Price laid the plan out to you two in the briefing room a few days beforehand. Seemed easy when he handed you both a copy of the blueprints of the structure. Seemed easy when Price had written down the guard’s patrol patterns—seemed so simple when he had an illustrated image of where the drives would be.

So, on the way out of the building with the said intel,  when you find yourself breathing hard and pressed up against Soap with barely any room inside of a supply closet in the middle of the hallway when a guard suddenly changes their patrol patterns… Easy my ass, you can’t help but think to yourself. Your legs are intertwined, your vests and gear making it difficult to budge an inch. Soap’s chest continues to rise and fall harshly, his breaths muted as he looks through the crack of the door, his fingers grasping the doorknob to keep the door in place. “Fuck.” You whisper, your eyes fluttering shut as his breaths fan across the skin of your neck. Soap’s hand is planted on the closet’s wall next to your head to keep himself in place, despite the minimal room that’s available.

Your heart is pounding beneath your rib cage as you squirm to get comfortable—Soap’s hand, the one that isn’t holding onto the doorknob, shoots out and grasps your hip with a hiss under his harsh breathing. “Stop movin’,” Soap growls under his breath. You can feel his fingers dig into your hip, despite the thick set of jeans you’re sporting—much like his own. “Sorry,” You murmur back to him apologetically, your face feeling hot from proximity. “Uncomfortable.” Soap goes to speak before his eyes widen, his hand leaving the doorknob and hoving over the service pistol holster on his chest.

Your breath slows to a stop, holding it in as you hear your heart pumping harshly.. And footsteps right outside of the door. Soap is seemingly holding his breath as well as you two share a glance, the footsteps approaching the door. Your fingers hover the holster attached to your belt, ready to use deadly force if needed be, despite the need for stealth. Both fortunately and unfortunately, the guard just shuts the door all the way, the light from the crack dissipating. You and Soap hear the door click. You shut your eyes for a moment in anger, realizing neither Soap or you caught the fact that the closet door locks from the outside. Fuck.

Your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the newfound dark surroundings whilst listening to the guard walk back down the hall, likely around the corner. You let out a huff, your hand falling from your holster—Soap’s following suit. His hand still remains on your hip, yet with a looser grip. “Did he—” Soap mutters and you nod immediately, knowing he was wondering if he heard it right, that the guard locked the closet before muttering a yes when you realize he can’t see you. “Fuck.” Soap grunted out lowly, his voice almost like a growl with frustration mixed in. “Once the guard is far enough away, I’ll radio Price.” Soap mumbles lowly in your ear, his breath brushing against your skin.

You offer another nod, despite Soap’s inability to see, but you’re sure he got the message anyway by the slight movement. Soap’s body heat invades the small personal space you got left. The sweating that’s beginning to creep up your neck makes you squirm, one of your hands grasping Soap’s shoulder to adjust the way you’re standing. It earns you another hiss and his other hand grabbing your other hip, his fingers digging into the thick denim. “Stop, m’not kiddin’.” Soap warns you, his voice quiet—low. Something about his tone makes you shudder; something prickles under your skin. You almost want to blame it on the humidity of the closet from both your breathing and body temperatures, but you know it’s from you moving.

You’re not stupid, you know you likely rocked your hips too close to his—against, his, is more likely the answer. Soap’s fingers squeeze your hips once more, your hand squeezing his shoulder in response. “Sorry.” You repeat yourself from earlier. You’re closing your eyes again, willing the odd bubbling arousal that’s rising to simmer down, to leave. You’re silently cursing yourself as your breath hitches, impulsive sexual thoughts infiltrating your brain. You’re certain wires have gotten crossed and lost in your brain from putting as many years as you have into this job, no doubt about it when you feel the urge to grind your hips forward at the thought of one of the guards walking by whilst you’re biting on Soap’s neck.

“Jesus, Mary, an’ Joseph—” Soap groans under his breath, your eyes snapping open and going wide when you feel his thigh slot between your legs, pressing upwards. You gasp quietly, light pleasure rocking through you for a moment. Your other hand grabs his shoulder, your legs twitching around his thigh a bit. “S.. Soap?” You question quietly, but he interrupts you. “It’s my thigh or nothin’, I’m no’ helpin’ ye get off.” Soap grumbles in your ear. You think he’s mad for a moment, for only just a split second until your mind registers the needy undertone in his words.

One of your hands on his shoulder cups the back of his neck, your fingers knocking against his throat mic as you roll your hips against his thick thigh, and fuck does it feel good. Pleasure tingles up your spine as your back arches to find a good rhythm. Your hand on his shoulder plants itself right beside his head against the wall, a quiet whimper leaving your throat as you roll your hips again, his muscular thigh applying just the right amount of pleasure. Soap lets out a shaky breath as your hand on the nape of his neck slides up to the base of his skull, your fingers grabbing at his hair. Alas, due to his mohawk, your fingers slip until your hand creeps up and grabs at his dark strands right when they begin.

You rock your hips forward again, and again and again and again—

Soap rolls his hips against yours, ripping another pleasured noise out of your throat, pulling at his hair as despite Soap claiming he wouldn’t help you, he’s rolling his clothed cock against you, chasing that similar pleasure that’s on the tip of your tongue, his hand covering your mouth as a shaky whimper leaves your lips that’s a bit too loud for his liking.

#crow’s 4k celebration #call of duty #cod #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #mw2022 #mw2 2022 #soap #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap x gn!reader #john mactavish x gn!reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap modern warfare #modern warfare soap #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap smut #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mctavish x reader #modern warfare fanfiction #modern warfare two #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #soap x you

[carionto]

Everything dumb happens in the 3130s

This popped up on Pinterest, it's 4AM, obviously there can only be one path:

______________________________

Space walks are a necessary part of any civilizations early days in the path to becoming a space-faring one. The hazards of space demand extensive protection, which reduces the practicality of individual space suits in favor of robots and drones. Everyone still has them, of course, but everyone always prefers to avoid exposing themselves to radiation and the simple danger of drifting away.

Except Humans. Many of them like going out in their dense and sleek suits for some "hands on workmanship". Manned suits also do posses certain stealth capacity as it only needs to maintain life support while the Human inside provides all the locomotion. And there are other practical benefits that crop up from time to time.

Then there's the group of Humans known as, named by other Humans by the way, "Crazy Death Surfers".

They suit up, hook themselves up to a drone they remote control, and release themselves within an asteroid belt. They also add these high density long alloy strips to their feet. Some use one large "board" some use two thin ones.

Then they engage the drone thrusters and hurl towards the gigantic space rocks at ludicrous speeds. Not by them, at them. As in they intend to impact the asteroids.

Once close enough, they divert the drone to change their course to be at an angle, still on a collision course though. Right as they're about to hit it, they turn their board to match the angle of approach and slam into it and continue to slide along, throwing up dust and small stones. Sometimes they quickly redirect the drone towards another asteroid, other times they make it go around the whole thing, see if they can leave a clean line fully across.

The Crazy Death Surfers do this for hours, and always return with the biggest smiles on their faces, thoroughly exhausted, often bruised, it's ridiculous none of them have actually died so far.

When they first came up with this idea, the Coalition station was also a "surf track" once. After their boards did more damage to the station, and almost caused a hull breach from a particularly sharp angle hit, they were heavily fined and a new law was enacted banning all unsanctioned space walks around any Coalition stations or ships.

Unlike some other Human introduced activities, asteroid surfing will NOT catch on.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humanity fuck yeah #carionto

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

JayTim omegaverse AU where Tim presents as an omega when he’s stalking Batman and Jason-as-Robin. Jason finds him collapsed on a rooftop and tries to help him but the proximity triggers his own presentation as an alpha. From there things go to hell in a hand basket and they ride out their first heat/rut together. In the immediate aftermath, once they have both recovered enough presence of mind, they agree that this is no one’s fault but it doesn’t stop Jason from feeling guilty about taking advantage of Tim so he escorts Tim home (in the process finding out they’re neighbours) and asks if there’s anything that he can do for him to make up for whatever the hell just happened.

There’s a lot of trauma to unpack here for the both of them but Tim is barely a teenager and Jason has emotionally repressed Batman for a parental figure so they just mutually decide not to mention it ever again because if you pretend it never happened then it can’t hurt you right? (Wrong.) Anyway, Tim tells Jason that if he really wants to do something for him then maybe he can just not tell Batman that Tim was on a rooftop at night, pretty please? At which point Jason, horrified that a boy Tim’s age is running around on rooftops unsupervised in the most crime-ridden parts of Gotham at the most crime-infested time of the day, makes it his personal duty to figure out why Tim does this and also how he can convince him to NOT do this. What he did to Tim was wrong on so many levels but oh god, what if someone so much worse found Tim instead? He agrees to Tim’s request on the condition that Tim carries a beacon at all times during his nighttime extracurricular activities.

Jason brings the beacon over as soon as possible, which turns out to be the next day after school (as Robin of course), and the sight of Tim alone in a giant house compels him to stay for a while, and a while turns into the rest of the day. Tim shows off the photos he’s taken of Batman and the Robins, and Jason is reluctantly but appropriately impressed by Tim’s stealth.

A friendship grows between them.

And then Jason dies.

And Batman grows too reckless.

And Dick refuses to be Robin again.

And Tim becomes Robin—

Except he doesn’t. Not really. He wears Jason’s Robin suit for a very short time before random bouts of nausea take him off the field. But Batman is still beating the shit out of petty criminals and Tim is desperate to help, so he allows Alfred (bless him) to call him a discreet doctor to ensure that his illness is not due to anything he was exposed to while Batman-wrangling before he’s allowed back on the field. Tim just wants it over and done with quickly so he can get back out there and—

He’s not allowed to back on the field.

He’s holding a little black-and-white picture of a literal human growing inside him and he is absolutely benched until there is no longer a literal human growing inside him.

Doctor Thompkins lays out his options, is brutally honest about how his body (too young, too small) will handle a pregnancy (not well), and asks if there is anything he wants to tell her (if there’s anyone Batman needs to put in jail for touching him). Tim doesn’t have long to consider his options—he’s nearly too far along for most clinics to be comfortable performing an abortion (although, given his age, they might be sympathetic enough to bend the rules if Doctor Thompkins can’t perform the procedure for him).

He decides to keep it, a parting gift from his friend Robin to be cherished beyond his death. There is a difficult conversation with Bruce about the child’s father (no, you can’t arrest them, they’re already dead, no, I’m not defending a heinous rapist, it’s your goddamn son, Bruce, this is your grandchild). An unforeseen but extremely welcome consequence of this is that Batman starts pulling his punches, now that he has something to live for again. He looks only half-broken now and he offers Tim a room at the Wayne manor when he finally learns about Tim’s extremely absent parents.

(Tim worries about how to break the news to his parents until he no longer has to worry about it because his mother is dead and his father is in a coma and god he wanted to avoid having that conversation with them but this wasn’t how he wanted it to happen.)

Properly benched now for the foreseeable future, Tim picks up remote vigilante-wrangling instead (from Babs?) and makes headway in some cold cases. He pulls out of school to be homeschooled instead, keeps out of the public eye, and generally avoids leaving Wayne manor because a thirteen-year-old pregnant omega living alone with an adult alpha (and his butler) is a Very Bad Look even for Brucie Wayne and Tim would rather not be known as Bruce Wayne’s child bride thank you very much.

Life proceeds in this manner, the child is delivered by Caesarian with very little fanfare. It is, unfortunately, very difficult to hide the presence of a whole infant. The public settles on the theory that the child is Bruce’s illegitimate son from one of his many dalliances and Tim allows the misconception to propagate simply because no good can come out of him, all of fourteen, publicly claiming his child. But it still stings, just a little. He made this child, held him safe in his womb for eight months. He puts him to bed and nurses him and loves him so much but nobody outside the manor will see it.

Tim bursts back into society when he’s officially adopted by Bruce. He refused to register his son as Bruce’s (it takes some extremely deft work by Oracle to file the appropriate documents for Tim’s claim on his child to be legally valid without alerting the press) but he also understands that Bruce wants a legal connection to his grandchild, so he becomes his son’s dead father’s legally adopted brother. It’s a mess, but at least people who should be are allowed into hospital rooms. It’s not like it will matter, right? Jason’s dead, right?

Wrong.

Jason is very much not dead and very much bewildered by the presence of a baby Wayne that isn’t Damian and it completely derails his plans to exact revenge on Bruce for not killing the Joker. It fucking hurts to see that he’s been replaced by not one but TWO new children but at least they aren’t Robin. At least no one is Robin. At least one of them is Tim, his lonely friend who deserves a family. He returns to Gotham, heads to Crime Alley, becomes Red Hood, and buries himself in shooting out enough kneecaps to push Bruce and Batman from his mind. That was another life. He’s fucking furious at Bruce and his replacements but god the baby has the same curly hair that Jason did and Jason can’t help but think that Bruce might actually have missed him, at least a little.

But probably not enough to love Jason as he is now, full of anger and rage and impulse to hurt hurt hurt the people who hurt others. He channels it all into cleaning up the Alley, perhaps more aggressively than Batman would (should) have, but Batman doesn’t give enough of a shit about the Alley to know that what he’s doing isn’t enough and it’s up to Jason to get his hands downright filthy if he wants to make any changes around here.

Tim notices Red Hood, because of course he does. And it takes him no time at all to realise, oh, that’s Jason. That’s Jason.

#jaytim #notfic #there's potential for drama here if Jason finds out that the kid is Tim's while still thinking it's Bruce's #especially if Jason and Tim have become friends/lovers as adults #I want to be a fly on the wall when Jason punches Bruce not for Joker still being alive #but for knocking Tim up when he was 'just a fucking child you fucking freak what the fuck' #Bruce with a hand on his smarting cheek like a wronged maiden: ???? that's YOUR child????? what are you on??????

[kyojurokoibito]

#5/10—kyojuro rengoku x reader

stealth. that is the skill of which you embodied at the moment.

your eyebrows furrowed as you kept your breathing low, your footsteps light, and body controlled. many skills were required for the demon slayer corps, and stealth was definitely one of them. the element of surprise was always an advantage when fighting demons.

however, your stealth was not being utilized for slaying demons at the moment.

you continued to creep down the hallway of your estate, being careful not to drop the contents in your hand. upon arriving to the desired door, you carefully slid the door open. you peeked inside.

'good...still asleep.'

you entered the room, closing the door behind you. creeping towards the bed in the center of the floor, you crouched down before crawling onto the bed, straddling your beloved kyojuro's waist.

his peaceful expression while he slept always brought a flutter to your heart.

but, you interrupted his sleep by gently pressing your lips onto his. not that he minded.

you couldn't help but smile as you felt warm hands clasp around your waist, tenderly keeping you in place. you went to lean back to separate the kiss, but kyojuro followed suit, keeping his lips secured against yours as he rose into a seated position.

he kept you there a little while longer before pulling away, a vibrant smile etched on his face, "good morning to you too, my love!"

"morning, kyo! oh, hang on." you remembered the purpose of your sneaking around your own estate in the morning. you held up the neatly packed bento boxed tied nicely with a ribbon. "i made your favorite for breakfast!"

kyojuro is a huge foodie(it's cannon, bite me.) he absolutely loved it when you shared a meal, had him try new recipes, or anything of that nature.

"greatly appreciated, love" he kissed your forehead before reaching for the box. you pulled it away from him.

"nuh uh," you shook your head, untying the box. "you aren't lifting a finger today! i'll be feeding you myself today!"

he let out a hearty laugh, "is that so? i do not mind you feeding me, if it is what you desire, but what for?"

"it's your birthday, silly!" you smiled at the sudden realization that flashed across his face. "how could you forget your own birthday!"

"i suppose it is because i don't celebrate it often," he laughed.

"well that changes now," you picked up some of the food in between the chopsticks before raising it to his lips. "say ahh!"

he happily complied, closing his eyes with a delighted hum as he savored the taste of your food.

"TASTY!"

you laughed at his outburst, before picking up another cluster of food and feeding it to him. this continued for a while, you feeding kyojuro, and him making joyful outbursts with each bite. just as you were about to feed him another, kyojuro gently took the chopsticks from your grasp.

"hm, are your full?"

he shook his head before copying your action from earlier. "say ahh!"

"but i should be feeding you," you jut your lower lip out in a small pout. "it's your birthday!"

"well," kyojuro paused for a moment before smiling and bringing the food to your lips. "consider this my birthday wish!"

"mmmh...alright, guess i can't deny you that." you allowed him to feed you, and eventually the dish was empty.

kyojuro set the empty box down before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. you smiled up at him before placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

"happy birthday, my beloved kyojuro."

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kyojuro fluff #this is a day late i should be ashamed #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro headcanons #rengoku x you #demon slayer x y/n #rengoku kyojuro x reader #late rengoku bday fic #rengoku #rengoku x y/n #kyojuro rengoku x y/n #rengoku drabble #♡rori.writes

[chvoswxtch]

frank? can I have an americano? was just thinking about the greys anatomy quote "oh screw beautiful, I'm brilliant! if you wanna appease me, compliment my brain!"

CRISTINA IS MY FAVORITE

yes you absolutely can <3

blurb below the cut

order for frank with a shot of grey's anatomy

The elevator already felt small with Frank’s large frame taking up most of it, but with your silent simmering frustration filling the rest of the confined space like a dense fog, the heavy tension made it feel even more cramped. Subtly turning his head to look at you, Frank was clueless about why you seemed so pissed off. Everything had gone according to plan without a hitch. No bullets were fired, no blood was shed; the only violent thing that had happened all night was you shoving the retrieved key card into Frank’s chest when he met you in the alley behind the hotel.

Frank couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, not just because he was trying to figure out why you were so angry with him, but also because of how good you looked. The elegant gown looked like it was made to be worn by you, and the color suited you perfectly. Your hair was in a different style than normal, and he realized he’d never seen you so dolled up before. It suddenly dawned on him that he hadn’t mentioned your appearance once all night. Was that why you were upset? You thought he didn’t notice?

“You uh, you look beautiful.”

Frank thought it was the right thing to say, but the way you snapped your head in his direction and glared at him with fire in your eyes, he quickly knew he had been very wrong, and he was now even more perplexed. 

“Oh screw beautiful, I’m brilliant! If you wanna appease me, compliment my brain.”

It was your goddamn plan that worked flawlessly. You’d managed to talk Frank out of jumping straight to beating the shit out of his target to get the information he needed, and instead presented him with a seamless plan to get the information yourselves. All you needed was the man’s personal key card to gain access to his office where he kept his restricted files, and you’d found out he was attending a charity event that weekend, which created the perfect opportunity to swipe it.

The plan was simple. You attend the event as a guest, innocently collide with the target, charm him long enough to pick his pocket, and make a stealth exit. Frank’s role was to keep an eye on you with a sniper rifle from above, ready to strike if necessary. Initially, he’d been stubborn and given you push back. He didn’t think it would work, and he didn’t like you putting yourself at risk. It was like pulling teeth trying to get him to agree to do things your way, and he kept reminding you up until the moment you went inside that he didn’t like it.

But it fucking worked.

It was perfect. You got in, got exactly what you needed, and got out in record time. The guy probably wouldn’t even realize his key card was missing until Monday morning. But did Frank say anything about how smoothly things went? No. Did he admit that he had been wrong to doubt you? No. Did he even acknowledge that your way worked? No.

Watching you cross your arms over your chest while you let out a huff of irritation, it seemed to finally click for him why you were so pissed, and Frank let out an amused chuckle which earned him another glare from you. Reaching out with his hand, Frank pushed the emergency button to stop the elevator, and when he caught the look of confusion interwoven in your expression of annoyance, the edge of his mouth quirked up in a faint smirk.

“Alright, fine. You were right. Your way worked better. It was a damn good plan, and I shoulda listened from the start. That better?”

Still glaring daggers in his direction, you stared at him silently for a moment before turning away to face the closed elevator doors.

“I’d like that in writing.”

“Think I got a napkin somewhere in the truck. That work for ya?”

“Don’t forget to sign and date it.”

Frank just shook his head at your snappy reply, pressing the emergency button again to get the elevator to continue its descent, letting out a light chuckle.

“Yes ma’am.”

#court's 4k followers celebration #court's 4k friends celebration #court's cafe #frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle request #frank castle blurb #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher blurb

[mintkookiess]

Don't. (Earth 42!Miles x Reader)

While writing this I was just thinking how reader here is so relatable like damn I'd be this much of a simp for him too ngl

As always, enjoy!

Love,

Mint

Summary: Miles and Uncle Aaron allow you to tag along when they have a mission just so you can admire the absolute goddamn art that is named Miles G Morales (⁀ᗢ⁀)

Warnings: Slight cussing, one mention of knife and gunpoint

Word count: 781

You watched as Miles turns his body a flawless 360-degree, smoothly unclasping three devices from his utility belt, before throwing it at the men following him as it explodes on their faces. He yelled with anger, and you could hear him from a mile away.

Whenever he was out on a mission, it was usually with Uncle Aaron… and you tagging along like some child they needed to babysit. Truthfully, you had places to be and things to do, but you were always eager to take in the absolute art that is Miles Morales, your best friend and your biggest, fattest crush in the entire universe.

Though you could be reprimanded by your parents, you just couldn’t help it... Plus they didn't have to know what you were actually doing after school. The stealth, strength, and mere power of the Prowler captivated you so well that it’s hard to look away. You didn’t even mind that he was a criminal because you were just so damn proud of your best friend. Also starstruck and in love but, that’s another story.

It was one of the reasons why you practically forced Uncle Aaron to let you at least watch from a safe distance (let's say like 3 miles away). Before he approved of it though, you usually tried to get in trouble’s way as an excuse to be near and observe Miles just endlessly kill enemies that stood in his way.

One time, you even...maybe... "unintentionally" let their enemies grab you at gunpoint. Miles and Uncle Aaron were both beyond furious it was indescribable, but that's all in the past now.

Other than that, you usually followed behind them but of course, they aren’t dumb enough to not notice. When Miles caught you, he almost tried to kill you because you were “putting your damn ass in unnecessary danger.”

Okay back to the present—“Would you stop drooling over him for a second and actually find a better hiding spot?!” Uncle Aaron would scold you. 

You’d oblige of course, and wordlessly hide further in some alley or inside an abandoned building, whichever was suitable and strong enough before proceeding to watch again, your eyes going up, and down, side by side to catch up with how fast Miles was going, throwing punches and clawing enemies left and right.

Uncle Aaron just sighs and shakes his head at you, before following after Miles again. He already knew there was no way of stopping you from your weird admiration. “If you die, I won’t be surprised.” He would mutter to himself. 

You lazily sat down on one of the old benches by the sidewalk, completely forgetting that you were in an open area. All your attention was on Miles’ braided black hair that swung in his every movement.

However, that may have been your worst mistake because some guy in a suit was charging toward you. Given that he was coming from your blind spot, you didn’t notice but you did wonder why Miles was suddenly running to you. 

His mouth was agape, as if he were yelling something and his entire face was agitated, or rather angry. At who? You didn’t know. In fact, he actually was yelling though…

“Move ma! You wanna die?!” This startled you, finally snapping back to reality, and moved away just in time as the man behind you barely missed with his knife which may have been inside you if you didn’t move fast enough. 

Your mind went blank at what just happened, but you didn’t have enough time to process anything as Miles grabbed you by the waist and carries you with him, speeding through the road and away from the suited man. 

He had scooped you up into a bridal style halfway through and you couldn’t help but look up and blush at the angle.

Looking at Miles was one heck of a sight. Your eyes twinkled in delight, completely forgetting what the hell just happened and how you were almost killed. “I think I might be in love with you!” You called out at your best friend, making him almost lose his footing. 

Miles glared at the road before him. Were you insane? You may be his best friend, but did you have any idea of the shit he’s done? The people he’s killed? He’s a literal murder machine, and you were declaring that you love him?

He doesn’t know whether you’re stupid, or insane but it might as well have been both. Miles took a second to look down at your eyes and shook his head firmly. “Don’t.”

"And this is the last time I'm letting you hang around when we do this shit mami."

Fin.

More of my Miles content here babes!

(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)

#miles morales x reader #miles g morales #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #uncle aaron #miles morales #earth 42!miles #earth 42!miles x reader #simp!reader #LMAO #CACKLING #mintdrabbles

[natalievoncatte]

Here's a quick snippet of something I'm working on. This is from a discarded draft, but I'm still thinking of rewriting it and using it as the cold open for the story.

The bullet in her leg was going to be a problem.

Lena had been in scrapes before. This was, after all, the third version of her armor, each one built after the previous one had failed her in some way. It had taken her six long years to work out the balance between strength and agility, speed and power; to enhance her stealth abilities and find the right balance of preparation vs weight in her equipment. Prior to that she'd spent almost ten years preparing for her mission. Traveling, studying, learning, inventing.

At first her only concern had been blades and bullets. That had been easy to deal with. Her armored suit consisted of a base layer of electrically activated fibers that simulated fast twitch muscle fibers and could boost her overall strength output five fold, making her the physical equal or better of any enemy she might encounter in the field. A layer of kevlar-nomex triweave and proprietary composite armor plating over that made her quick and agile but well protected against guns and knives.

Tonight she'd learned that well protected wasn't totally protected.

It was almost funny, after everything that had happened in those five years, everything she'd overcome, that a gang of corrupt cops and mob thugs would be the ones to take her down.

Oh, and make no mistake, she had been taken down. She might have escaped the Axis Chemical factory, but she wasn't going to make it to the extraction point, and she knew it. She wasn't going to make it to Alfred this time.

They'd find her, eventually, pry her out of the armor, and reveal to the world that the Batman had been Lena Wayne all along. Of all the things she regretted as the plain flared in her thigh and she felt hot blood flowing beneath the inner layer of her suit, Lena was surprised to find that one of the things she'd regret most was not getting to see the looks on their faces when they found out.

She'd faced down plant toxins and freeze cannons and a shape-shifting monster. Aliens and metahumans and magicians. She'd taken them all on and come up ahead.

You know what? Lena decided, this isn't too bad. No, it wasn't a good death, but she was going out on her terms, knowing that she'd made some small difference. Maybe someone else could carry on her work. She'd left journals behind, set out instructions for what was to be done with her inventions and technology and the Wayne fortune. She would leave good in the world behind her. Martha and Thomas, the people who'd taken her in and raised her, would be proud. Bruce, her little brother who'd been the bravest man she ever knew, would be proud.

Maybe it would be a good death after all.

Lena stumbled through the open construction, threading between exposed I-beams. It wasn't in her to give up, to stop limping forward. She'd locked out her wounded leg, turning the suit rigid so she could hobble on it, and had already hit herself with an adrenaline auto-injector to keep her eyes open. She could make it to the extraction if she just kept moving.

Just keep moving.

As she limped forwards, Lena wondered how she'd get down. One problem at a time. She was in no shape to use a grapple line to get to street level. Keep moving. The pain in her leg was shocking, excruciating. She wondered if the bullet had fractured her femur. Maybe. She'd been hurt before, of course. Bullet to the back that slipped between armor plates and punched through, once, and all the ones that didn't hurt like hell anyway; it was like being pummeled with baseballs.

The display on the inside of her cracked helmet was lit up with warning lights and messages she didn't have time to parse. She knew what some of them were: Corrosive damage to the suit, drained power cells, her vitals plummeting, and the repeating all points bulletins declaring that the Batman was to be arrested on sight for the murder of Jack Napier.

Lena made it to the edge and leaned on a steel beam, looking down. Two blocks over to the extraction point. Alfred would be waiting for her. He'd get her out of the suit, patch her up, make it better. Alfred always made it better. She had to try. She had to try to get back.

Fumbling, she almost tumbled right off the edge until she slumped against the beam, her wounded leg starting to slide out from under her. She had to hug the steel to pull herself back up, prop herself up on the locked armor segments.

No, she wasn't going to make it, she realized. This was it. No heroic last stand, no final sacrifice, just bleeding out in a half-finished bougie apartment complex that had been stripped of all its copper five times. Lena wanted to laugh, but her lungs could only wheeze.

She almost didn't realize it when the half-skeletal building shook from a gust of wind.

No, not a wind. A blur of motion.

Her HUD lit up with proximity alarms, the onboard computers panicking when the sensor systems started failing from lack of power or severe damage. She really wanted to laugh. What now?

Turning, Lena put a hand on the beam to keep herself upright, and sighed.

No amount of preparation, no amount of refinement to her suit, would ever prepare her for this.

The Kryptonian strode across the plywood construction floor, cape majestically billowing behind her. Even in the dark she seemed alive with light, haloing her flawless golden curls and alive in her sky blue eyes, like she brought the sun with her. Her bright blue and red uniform stood in stark contrast against the muted grays, blues, and blacks of Gotham by night. Below them, sirens wailed. Hunters on the prowl for their wounded prey.

"What do you want?" Lena rasped. Her helmet altered her force into a deep growl.

"Batman," said Supergirl, "there's an all points bulletin out for your arrest."

"What else is new?"

Even now, she was the detective, stalling. The helmet's systems were scanning Supergirl's face, matching against her own facial recognition database using algorithms she'd written herself. The suit did all this automatically, so that she had complete files when she returned to the Cave.

"They're saying you killed a man tonight," said Kara. "I'm taking you in."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Lena coughed, the sound exploding in a garbled belch from her damaged helmet.

"You can barely stand," said Supergirl. "That wound in your leg needs medical attention. Just let me help you."

"Help me?" Lena spat, reaching for her belt. "Don't be absurd."

"You're coming with me either way," said Supergirl, edging closer. "Trying to fight me is pointless. You don't stand a chance."

"Want to test that theory?" said Lena.

Supergirl shook her head.

The suit came back with a facial recognition match.

DANVERS, KARA.

Her biographical data began to scroll across Lena's vision. She dismissed it with a laugh.

"It figures," she muttered.

"What?" said Supergirl. She moved closer. "I can hear your heart rate decreasing. I'll take you to a hospital. I promise, you'll get a fair hearing, you just-"

Lena laughed again. "A fair hearing. You must be joking."

Supergirl edged closer. "Wait. You're using a voice changer."

Lena's eyes shot open wide inside her helmet. "How... of course. Superhuman hearing, right?"

"Wait," said Kara, "wait, I know that voice. Lena?"

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #Bat!Lena #AU #what if the waynes adopted Lena instead

[audhd-nightwing]

au where selina adopts dick instead of bruce

- selina goes with bruce to the circus as a date

- when the Graysons fall, she knows bruce is reliving what happened to his parents

- she kisses bruce on the cheek and stealthily makes her way through the crowd to the youngest Grayson

- selina has always had motherly instincts, it’s why she has so many cats. she’s known for taking in strays, so what’s one more?

- she pulls dick into a hug and he melts into her, he just needs someone to hold him right now

- selina reminds dick of his mother- the same warm brown skin, the same tight embrace, both kissing the top of his head and whispering reassurances with a slightly accented voice

- she whisks him away from the police (she doesn’t trust them in general, let alone with a newly orphaned child) and lets bruce deal with the consequences. dick sits on her couch with a cat in his lap as selina introduces herself and explains everything to him

- dick is just glad he doesn’t have to go with the cops or social services (he knows not to trust them), and his gut is telling him he can trust selina. after all, animals are a great judge of character and all of the cats seem to love her

- bruce is aware selina took dick in, but considering how quickly the police give up looking for the boy, bruce doesn’t mind her essentially kidnapping him

(selina eventually becomes a foster parent and legally fosters dick, but it’s years later and the police/legal system don’t care enough to worry about a previously missing persons suddenly appearing as a foster kid. gotta love Gotham)

- dick is still young and angry and wants revenge on tony zucco. selina is honest about her identity as Catwoman, and he asks her to help him get back at the man who killed his parents

- together, they steal his most prized possessions, bankrupt him, and overall ruin his life, and then they hand him over to the cops with evidence of his crimes duct-taped to him

- dick is a natural at stealth, thanks to his acrobatic abilities, and he begs selina to train him. he wants to be like robin hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, and who is selina to deny him that?

- selina will still steal jewels from museums and such for herself, but she does that solo. together, the two of them go after corrupt rich people and steal their money, distributing it to the poor

- dick teaches himself how to hack and is able to access bank accounts, making it much easier to steal large amounts of money. selina is extremely proud of him

- selina makes dick his own suit and he goes by Stray. he is typically the one to give out money to people on the streets, and he’s eventually known by most of Gotham. bruce carefully ignores this happening, because he recognizes that Stray is helping the people of Gotham in a way Batman can’t

- bruce still finds and adopts jason, but his costume and name are obviously not Robin. probably Batboy. anyway, dick hears about Batman’s new sidekick and immediately thinks “friend? potential friend?” so he follows them around and befriends jason

- jason knows about Stray, and has a slight hero worship of him ‘cuz he’s like robin hood!’ which dick (and selina) find adorable

(dick is about 10 when his parents die, 12 when he becomes Stray officially, and 16 when jason (13) becomes Batboy)

- tim, when he finds out about dick being fostered by selina kyle after being declared missing for years, of course goes to confront them. dick was (still is) his childhood hero, and he was so worried when the older boy was declared missing

- at least until he recognized dick as Stray, but he couldn’t exactly confront him then

- anyway so tim shows up at selina’s apartment and demands to see dick. selina is like “you are tiny, come inside” and calls for dick. it takes dick a moment but he recognizes tim and hugs him. tim clings to him and dick just accepts it

- tim gives him the photo they took together and some others he found in the newspaper of dick and his parents. dick cries and thanks him

- they get to talking and dick & selina are like “how did you get here? where are your parents?” and tim is just like “oh they’re in egypt. i rode my bike here :)”

- this of course leads to dick and selina stealing tim and leaving bruce to deal with the consequences once again

- it’s easily resolved, selina becomes tim’s emergency contact and they talk to his parents; whenever janet and jack are away, tim will stay at selina’s. blackmail might be involved but a deal’s a deal

(dick is officially fostered by selina right after jason is adopted by bruce, and about 6 months after that tim (10) confronts selina and reunites with dick)

~ time skip ~

- dick goes to Gotham University and lives on campus but stays with selina every weekend. his major is undecided and he eventually drops out to start paramedic training

- when bruce doesn’t believe jason (15) about Garzonas, he runs away to selina’s where dick (18) and tim (12) comfort him. he tells them about sheila haywood and they research her, but jason ends up deciding not to go after her

- selina has a Talk with bruce and he apologizes to jason, inviting him back as Batboy. jason agrees but visits selina’s apartment far more often. he is Batboy for a few more years before offering the mantle to tim and going off to college

- tim respectfully declines being Batboy, and since jason never dies and bruce never goes off the deep end, it isn’t necessary for him to take on that role

- babs is still Batgirl and then Oracle, and tim decides to train under her with computer stuff instead of going out in a mask. tim helps both Batman and Stray when they need it

(babs becomes Batgirl around the time dick becomes Stray, and becomes Oracle a year into jason’s run as Batboy. she views jason as a little brother, and has a sort of Batman/Catwoman relationship with Stray (aka dick flirts with her as Batgirl and she pretends to hate it. they don’t actually date but end up becoming good friends) dick goes after the joker when babs gets paralyzed and breaks both of his legs. he is Oracle’s #1 fan and is super happy when tim decides to train under her)

(babs is about 2 years older than dick, and balanced being a college student/graduate with being a vigilante. she’s a total badass and works more with the Birds of Prey than Batman, but always has time for dick jason and tim)

- babs becomes a lawyer. dick becomes a paramedic and gives Stray to tim, instead becoming Nightwing- a medic vigilante. tim takes on the mantle of Stray and does the robin hood gig. jason leaves the vigilante life behind and goes to college, majoring in english and minoring in education (he wants to become an english teacher and give Gotham kids good educations)

~ the end ~

#my au #selina adopts dick au #dick grayson #selina kyle #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #catwoman #jason todd #tim drake #barbara gordon #batgirl #oracle #nightwing #batcat #batfam au #dc comics #gotham #dcu #dc au #my writing

[scary-lasagna]

Welcome back kitty!I just saw that you came back 😭 anyway I wanted to ask, what's proxy training like? Or does a proxy have to succeed in any certain training to be declared a proxy?

These: 1 , 2 touch a little bit on how the training is incorporated.

Proxy Training

It depends how the person is selected as a proxy.

For example, Tim and Brain were given The Sickness first and watched over a good portion of their life. Slender knew them inside and out, so really all he needed to do was teach them combat and then school them about the ways of really being a proxy. He didn't need to mentally deconstruct them and build them back up, or test their limits. He already knew all of that.

If Slender decides to throw The Sickness on someone, they'll likely be a feeble mind, a child usually, and then follow them up to adulthood. But in cases like Toby, who was already mentally damaged enough to manipulate, it didn't take much to get him to mold to his will.

But these days, he doesn't have time for shenanigans like that. He has paperwork to complete, a house to run, a house to clean, food to cook, and keeping silly little humans alive when they decide to sled down the main staircase.

He has five proxies that know the ropes of everything, so the task outside of paperwork and select training exercises will be handled by them, mainly Tim, considering he's Slender's right hand.

The training exercises that Slender attends are usually final tests, or the proxies convince him to play '8 pages' on one of his few off days.

It helps with coordination, stealth, awareness, everything one would need to practice, really.

And once one of the proxies are 'captured' (Slender just grabs em with a tendril and tosses them a bit too hard for comfort), they play on the opposing team. So now, you aren't just evading a monstrous eldritch being that can sniff you out form anywhere, but also human sized co-workers that'll beat you up much worse if they happen to catch you before Slender does.

ANYWAY

Slender will have the new proxy fill out paperwork, basically a consent form for devoting their soul to him no matter what happens. And he'll explain the pile of papers in great detail, answering any questions you may have, even the silly ones.

Then, he'll let them familiar themselves with the manor and new co-workers as he sets up a specialized mission to observe their skills and flaws. Their co-workers are allowed to assist them, but never warn them about the tests. Slender needs a blind reaction for untainted results.

Ben helps with the constant surveillance once they're sent out. He takes notes, mini essays, pictures, clips, anything to get a glimpse of who you really are when you're caged in a corner while kicking and screaming for release.

It's a little traumatic, but it's necessary to see if you're suiting for the line of work you're going into. Slender won't have a proxy that will abandon their peers to save their own skin, that's just cowardice and a terrible flaw in his planning.

And each proxy had a different entry test, it's all based on what they're most afraid of, and evasive their nature is.

Once the first mission of theirs is over, the next one will follow up soon after, narrowing down their possibilities into certain classes and subclasses of proxy.

For example, Masky is a brute, being the muscle of the group. Toby is a Scout, running ahead of the group to find danger before it reaches them. Kate is a chaser, Clock is a tracker, etc.

If he still can't find a spot for the new proxy after two missions, he'll give them a written test to discover any hidden morals that he hasn't uncovered, and then one more physical test that will narrow down his final decision.

If they survive this far, they will be awarded their title, and the ability to design their mask one-on-one with Slender.

They must also choose a spot to be marked by Slender, something that could be hellishly compared to a tattoo. This marking will protect them from getting targeted by other Operators, proxies, and entities. It gives off an aura that shuns off other creatures, like a bad scent.

After they’re assigned a class and marked properly, they’ll receive special training for that class. For example, if they got brute, they will be trained in physical combat, endurance, strength, and stamina. For Scout, they’ll receive tracking courses, stamina training, field medical training, and memorization of the forest paths.

All proxies will receive torture training in case of emergency, such as being captured or held hostage. As well as torture training, all proxies will learn about the creatures of the Black Forest, including what’s dangerous and what’s not. (Apparently this doesn’t apply to Toby since he’s keen on bringing whatever the Hell he wants home with him).

Other than the official training and whatever Slender tells them, everything else is learned on the field or told to them by other proxies. They’ll look after you for a few weeks before letting you attempt things on your own.

They’ll let you learn at a distance but keep an eye on you if you need help or something unexpected happens that a trained proxy needs to handle.

#sorry if this one's wonky i was half asleep writing this. #ticci toby #masky #hoodie #proxy x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog #creepypasta x reader #proxy #proxies #slender

[ungeese]

It’s pretty weird that the comic Sora Warrior of the Sea had such specific details about Germa right?

Like even choosing to name the protagonist SORA! How many people knew the queen of Germa was working against her husband’s experiments? I doubt it was a lot! So why name the warrior who fights Germa after her?

And Stealth Black is in the comics! Accurate enough that Law recognized Sanji when he transforms for the first time! Who would have even known there were 4 princes? One was supposed to have died young! Way before he received his combat suit!

So someone on the inside who hated Germa enough to make them the villains, wanted to honor the fight Sora made against the alterations to her children, but also still considered Sanji one of them enough to include him in the line up?

Literally only Reiju could have written Sora warrior of the sea, is what I’m saying.

Secret Mangaka Reiju-sensei taking all the emotions she has to pretend she doesn’t feel every day and turning them into a hit high octane Shonen Manga.

#one piece #germa 66 #Sora warrior of the sea #one piece reiju #trafalgar law is canonically a weeb #stealth black #drawing wild conclusions based on no evidence except what is in my heart #vinsmoke reiju