It seemed a little silly that you felt the need to deep breathe before starting a normal massage, but it wasn’t that your job made you nervous. Not at all. It was the large, muscled back that waited for you patiently on your table that made you nervous.
Silva Zoldyck had been in your parlor before, and even then you knew who he was. You lived close enough to the mansion that everyone around knew the name ‘Zoldyck’. He had praised you for a job well done last time and tipped handsomely. So it had gone fine.
But.
That wasn’t the problem.
Sure, he was intimidating. An assassin that had killed more people that you personally knew. But that wasn’t the issue.
“I’m going to start,” you informed him, not wanting to startle him and active a killing instinct or something- though he was probably far too well trained for that.
“Thank you,” he replied.
You started as you did with all appointments: warming your hands over the small heater at your station, coating them in oil, and activating your nen. The energy surrounded your hands naturally. It was the same as breathing at this point.
Well normally it was. Today it was easier to use nen than it was to breathe apparently. Because this next part was a bit different from normal.
Silva’s back was so massive that to reach all of it easily you couldn’t just stand at the side of the table like usual. Being careful to not put your oiled hands on the table, you lifted a leg to kneel next to his hips. In one quick motion you straddled his hips, resting your weight on butt.
‘Everything about this feel so sexual,’ you thought to yourself as you leaned over and rubbed your oily hands onto his spine to start.
The nen in your hands helped to more distinctly feel every single muscle in his back, giving the sensation of touching the muscle with no skin in the way. It helped to find every small knot and strain. Usually you could lose yourself in it as you worked.
But something about Silva made you… distracted. You had to rock over his body as you worked, moving your entire body up and down to be able to follow the muscles with your hands. To work out especially tough places you had to lean forward with your entire body weight and force your palms down into the tight spot. And with every rocking motion you had to not focus on your own tightening spot.
The problem was, that to your complete embarrassment, massaging the man made you… well… horny. He never made especially sexual noises, every now and then the smallest grunt could be heard but it was rare and a common noise for clients to make. But regardless, you could feel your pussy getting wet anyway.
‘I wonder what he sounds like in bed,’ you thought, then mentally slapped yourself for even thinking about that.
By the point you had to work on his hips your heart was pounding and you had to consciously keep your own hips still with great effort. Your fingers rounded his hip bone, the tips snaking to the front of his body to follow a muscle. The muscle wasn’t relaxing though. You could feel it tense under your hands.
Boldly, you followed the muscle further and Silva said nothing. Several muscles in his hips and groin were tensing at your touch and suddenly you understood that the man under you was silently trying to behave as you were.
You pulled your hands back. “Um,” you started, licking your lips, “Could you turn over for me?”
“Hm? Of course,” he responded with his usual serious sounding tone.
You didn’t get entirely off, just lifted your weight and pulled one leg back over so he could easily turn. Once he had, you put your leg back over him to straddle him again.
Leaning over his body you got more oil from the side stand, peaking at his face to see if his eyes were open. They weren’t, and you were thankful. With practiced precision you started at his shoulders, working muscles that you had started on the back. Slowly you worked your way down his chest, it took much less time than the back as in general you don’t even need to massage a chest.
But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy rubbing your fingers deep into the lines of his chest. Each muscle was so strong until you dug your digits in and then they became like butter. It was satisfying.
Now you were at his hips again and you took in a quiet, but deep breath. Once more you followed the tense muscle, leaning your hips back while you slid your hands under the towel you used to cover his more private area. You could sense his entire body tense as you very delicately touched his dick with the tips of both hands.
“What are you doing.” It was formed like a question, but not really asked. He knew what you were doing.
“You were tense,” you said, sounding confident even though you didn’t feel it. “I was following the tension.” You ran one hand down his pelvis to massage the muscles of the groin while your other hand rubbed his base.
Your fingers felt the blood rush to his groin, and you managed not to smile as devilishly as you felt. Silva didn’t say anything to stop you, so you kept going. Rubbing his base, then his lower shaft, finally both hands cupped the growing erection and the towel slipped away due to your movements. You shouldn’t have been surprised at his size, he was such a big man in every other way, but you were.
Looking up at his face you saw him watching you. How long had he been watching? You lifted your hips up so that your cupping hands could press his cock against you. “I just want to please you,” you said with red cheeks. “May I, Mr. Zoldyck?”
The Holidays were around the Corner at Beacon Academy, along with Ceremonies for the graduating Fourth years. The Teachers were struggling to get the last few weeks before Graduation ready. In the middle of it all, Stjerne was watching the three members of the faculty, frantically trying to get ready for the last day. As of today, Stjerne was looking out the window, watching more snow fall. As of right now, there were 3 inches of snow on the ground.
"Glynda! Have you seen the papers I graded for the exam?!" Peach panicked in the lounge.
"They're on top of the fridge." Glynda answered, trying to help Peach and Port get themselves in order. Ozpin was in his office finishing his work and Oobleck was off who knows where.
"Got 'em Thanks Glynda!" Peach began looking through her folder.
"Where are my dust rounds? I need them for next class!" Port frantically searched the lounge.
"They're on the shelf next to the Hot chocolate!" Stjerne pointed up to the shelf, where some small boxes sat, next to Ozpin's supply.
"Ah. Thanks Stjerne." Port grabbed the boxes off the indicated shelf.
"Sure thing!" Stjerne grinned.
"Whoooh. We still have a lot to worry about it." Peach sighed, wiping her brow.
"I know. I just hope Oz takes this seriously." Glynda rolled her eyes.
"I know. Anyway, Stjerne, if you're bored, you can go play outside. Just stay near the flagpole." Peach said as she left the room, "And be sure to bundle up."
"Yes Peach!" Stjerne jumped off the box she had been standing on. She ran back to her room and grabbed her winter gear. Clockwork meowed excitedly as she watched Stjerne get ready to go out. She wore a green winter coat, a brown scarf with mitts and a pair of grey winter boots. Once she had finished bundling up, Stjerne ran out of her room and down the stairs to outside. The flakes was still falling as Stjerne started playing in the snow. Clockwork was with her, frolicking in the snow. Suddenly, Stjerne froze as she heard the bell ring.
"It's probably students switching classes." She said. Suddenly, a group of students came outside and started playing. Stjerne quickly hid behind some bushes, hoping students wouldn't see her. Groups of students began chatting outside, while other students began having a snowball fight.
"Ah! Feels good to take a break!"
"I know right! Port is super boring."
"Eh. He's not as bad as Oobleck. He seriously moves at the speed of light."
"At least Dust class isn't so bad. Peach is really fun."
And so the conversation continued. Stjerne stayed hidden, waiting for the students to move on so that she can run back to the teachers building unnoticed.
"Uh oh. I think they're at it again." A group of students started walking towards to flagpole where two students are standing and fighting over something. Letting curiosity get the better of her, Stjerne snuck over to the flag pole, taking care not to be seen by any students. Soon she reached a few bushes nearby and watched the scenario unfold.
"I keep telling you. It really works!" One student said.
"Tch. You're full of games and so's your team." The other student laughed.
"Oh yeah?!"
"Yeah!"
"Says who?"
"Says me!"
"Oh yeah?!"
"Yeah!"
"Well then I double dare you!" Everybody froze at the word "double dare."
"Ha! You kidding me?! Sticking my tongue to this flag pole?! That's dumb." The second student laughed.
"That's only because you know it'll stick!" The first retorted.
"You're full of it!"
"Oh yeah?!"
"Yeah!"
"Then I Double Grimm Dare you!" Everybody stared at the second student expectantly.
"Heh. No way." He laughed nervously, shaking his head.
"I Triple Grimm Dare you!" The First student shot back. Everybody began whispering amongst themselves.
"Alright, alright, move aside." The second student gave in and walked up to the flag pole, eyeing it nervously. He looked ready to back out, but couldn't.
"Go on you Smart alec!" The first student urged.
"I'm going, I'm going. Sheesh." The second student protested. He reluctnantly stuck his tongue on the pole.
"This Is Nuts..." He tried pulling it off, only to find it stuck. "Stuck, stuck STUCK!!!! Holy Crap, Help!!!!" The student started freaking out like a 4th grader, scaring everyone around him.
"Whoa! It actually works!" The first student exclaimed. The other student started freaking out and trying frantically to pull his tongue off without injuring it in any way. Suddenly, the bell rang again and students scattered, running towards their classes. The first student started running off
"Don't leave me?! Please, don't!!!" The second student begged like a kicked dog. Stjerne just stood there in shocked silence.
"The bell rang!" The first student protested.
"What are you gonna do?!" The other student freaked out.
"I dunno? The bell rang!" The student off, leaving her friend to suffer. Unable to leave the student to freeze, Stjerne jumped out and tugged on the Student's jacket.
"What the- Who the heck are you?" The student looked down, surprised.
"I'm Stjerne! Are you alright?!" She asked worried.
"No. All because some crazy gal dared me to do this crap." The student grunted, trying to get his tongue free.
"Wh-what do I do?!" Stjerne began panicking.
"I dunno?! Get help or something?!" The student panicked as well.
"Um.....I....um...." Stjerne looked both scared and confused. She glanced around, looking for someone to help.
"What's going on here?" The two snapped at the new voice. A tall man, with purple hair and eyes walked towards the pole. He was wearing a black coat and brown trousers with boots.
"P-professor Tyrian!" The student stuttered.
"How'd you get yourself in this scenario?" The professor laughed.
"Stupid......classmate.....triple grimm dared me....." The student could only stutter.
"Ah, I see. And you must be Stjerne. Peach told me a lot about you." Tyrian directed his attention to Stjerne, who was still standing there.
"Y-yes sir." She nodded.
"I need you to get Oobleck. This could take a while and I might need his assistance." He directed.
"W-where is he?" Stjerne asked, still a bit uncertain of the newcomer.
"He should be in his classroom, teaching a class." Tyrian answered, "Just run inside and down the hall. His classroom isn't that hard to spot." Stjerne nodded as she ran towards the halls. Once inside, she ran down the halls, looking for Oobleck's classroom. Students were surprised to see a small student running through the halls of Beacon and murmered amongst themselves.
"Wh-where is it?!" Stjerne panted, stopping to take a breather.
"Are you alright? What's a girl like you doing in the halls of Beacon?" A female student asked kindly, kneeling down to her level. She had a short light hair with short trimmed bangs, and brown eyes with glasses.
"Um....do you know where Doctor Oobleck is?" Stjerne stammered.
"Yeah. Follow me. Are you his niece or something?" The student asked.
"No, Peach is my Aunt." Stjerne said as she shook her head.
"Ah, I see. Why do you need to see Oobleck then?" The student stood up.
"Because somebody named Tyrian sent me to get him." Stjerne answered.
"Ah, Professor Pearl must have sent you. Alrighty then. Come on. I'm Mauve Kelt by the way." The student held out her hand. Stjerne grabbed on and allowed Mauve to lead her down the hall. Soon they reached Oobleck's classroom, where Mauve knocked on the door. Oobleck answered it a few seconds later.
"Hey, Professor!" Mauve waved awkwardly.
"Its Doctor, Miss Kelt." Oobleck corrected.
"Right, sorry. Anyway, I have someone who needs to see you." Mauve scratched her head awkwardly.
"Oobleck! Somebody named Tyrian needs you!" Stjerne jumped forward.
"Stjerne?! What are you doing out here?" Oobleck asked, surprised that Stjerne was even with a student.
"I was playing outside when something happened. Now Tyrian needs you!" Stjerne pulled on Oobleck's hand, refusing to let go.
"Ah, Professor Pearl. Okay, give me a second to grab my coat. Miss Kelt, will you watch my class while I'm gone?" Oobleck nodded.
"Sure." Mauve nodded, steeping inside. After a few minutes, Oobleck emerged, wearing his coat.
"Good luck professor." Mauve called.
"For the last time Miss Kelt, It's Doctor. And if I have to correct you one more time, you'll be landed in detention!" Oobleck said sternly.
"I keep forgetting! Sorry!" Mauve protested as she went back inside.
"Alright. Now, where is professor Pearl?" Oobleck asked.
"He's outside. Near the flag pole." Stjerne answered. Oobleck picked Stjerne up and dashed off at a high speed until he reached the flag pole.
"About time you showed up Barty." Tyrian rolled his eyes.
"Well forgive me, but I had to hand my class off to a senior. What happened here?" Oobleck put Stjerne down.
"This scene needs no words." Tyrian gestured at the student, who still had his tongue stuck.
"Mr Crocket..... I hope you got a good explanation for this." Oobleck shook his head, pulling out his thermos and activated the flamethrower.
"Eek!" Stjerne jumped back, hiding behind Tyrian.
"Uh....professor....." The student shrunk back in fear.
"Don't worry Mr Crocket, I'm just warming up the pole. Tyrian, when it's warm enough, pull." Oobleck instructed. Tyrian nodded and gripped the student's shoulders. Oobleck began warming the pipe, gradually heating it. Stjerne covered her eyes, too afraid to look.
"Alright.....now!" Oobleck signalled and Tyrian gave the student a good yank, pulling his tongue free from the pole.
"OWWW!!!" He yelped, holding his tongue.
"Is it over?" Stjerne asked, peeking.
"It's over. Don't worry." Tyrian answered.
"Ow ow ow ow!" The student held his tongue.
"How bad is it?" Oobleck asked. Tyrian carefully examined the injury done.
"He just got the top part stuck. It's bleeding a little, but should heal two days from now." Tyrian answered.
"Eh?!" Stjerne looked scared.
"Don't worry, he's gonna be fine." Tyrian summed it up.
"Well, I'm sure to enjoy hearing about this scenario later in detention. Because that's where you're going after classes today."
"Yessir." The student moaned.
"Stjerne, why don't we head back inside. Tyrian, could you take the boy to the Infirmary?" Oobleck asked.
"Sure thing. See ya around." Tyrian waved as he led the student off.
"Who was that?" Stjerne asked as Oobleck led her back to the lounge.
"That was David Crocket. He's a third year here at the academy. And a reckless daredevil by the looks of it."Oobleck answered.
"Okay. What about the other guy. The guy named Tyrian?"
"Oh, that was Professor Tyrian Pearl. He teaches Aura and Semblance enhancement. He's been here at the Academy for 17 years, his mentor having died two years before that."
"Oh, okay. Is Mauve a senior?"
"Oh, Miss Kelt? Yes, she is a senior here, meaning she is a 4th year. She's going to be graduating soon."
"Really? When?"
"About two days from now."
"Okay. Will I be able to see the ceremony?" Stjerne asked excitedly.
"Maybe. Depends on what Ozpin says" Oobleck answered thoughtfully.
-------(Time skip (dinner time))----------
"So you're saying Crocket literally stuck his tongue to the flag pole on a dare?" Peach laughed.
"That's what it looked like." Oobleck answered.
"And by the looks of it, I see you met Professor Pearl." Ozpin looked at Stjerne.
"Yeah." Stjerne nodded. She still felt guilty for being spotted by the students, "I'm sorry I got spotted. But I wanted to help...."
"Its alright Stjerne. We all knew the secret would get out sooner or later. At least you were able to help Professors Pearl and Oobleck with Mr Crocket." Glynda reassured her.
"How many times must I say it?! IT'S DOCTOR!!!" Oobleck fumed.
"Sheesh, blowing your top at Miss Kelt and now here." Port grumbled.
"And how do you know about that?!"
"Because she was late to my class and she told me."
"Oh."
"Whatever the case, at least Graduation is coming up." Peach broke up the fight.
"Thank heavens for that. That means a well deserved break." Glynda sighed.
"Ozpin, how come I never see Professor Pearl?" Stjerne looked at Ozpin, confused.
"Well, Tyrian Pearl, as his name is, likes to spend most of his time in the tower, where his office is. His office is a few levels below mine." Ozpin explained.
"Huh?!" Stjerne looked back and forth between the two professors.
"Tyrian may not look it, but he's a Horned Owl Faunus." Peach explained.
"Really? But what are his faunus traits? He didn't have any wings." Stjerne asked.
"That's because Faunus wings are a rare trait. Tyrian has wider eyes then the rest of us, and he has feathers mixed in his hair. They're the same color of course, so it's hard to tell." Peach answered.
"On top of that, he can rotate his head 360°" Port said.
"You're kidding with me, right?!" Stjerne looked a bit scared at the last part.
"Don't worry. The rest of us were freaked too, but it's normal." Peach waved her hands, reassuring her.
"Ozpin, on an unrelated note, did you plan the Ceremony?" Glynda asked, changing the subject.
"Yes. It's the same as last year's." Ozpin nodded.
"Give the students their diplomas and licenses and kick them out?" Peach asked. Ozpin nodded.
"You know you have been doing that the past few years as headmaster, right?" Oobleck asked.
"I simply see no reason to detain students at the Academy for longer then needed. Once they graduated, they have to leave in order to save the world. Plus Barty, you know I was never one for speeches." Ozpin sipped from his mug.
"Lier. You're great at making speeches. You just don't feel like talking in front of a crowd." Peach rolled her eyes.
"I can confirm that." Glynda nodded.
"Hey Ozpin, can I see the ceremony? Please?" Stjerne gave Ozpin a pleading look.
"Well, if you want? There isn't much to see though." Ozpin answered.
"Just stick close to me. Okay?" Peach nodded.
"Yes Peach." Stjerne nodded, giving herself a silent victory punch under the table.
"Besides the ceremony, what else do we need to worry about?" Port asked.
"Well, as usual, I'll be planning the faculty party." Peach answered, giving them all a devious smirk.
"Oh boy."
"Here we go again." Groans erected around the table.
"What?! What's wrong with my parties?" Peach glared at everyone.
"No offense Peach, but your parties tend to be a bit too....wild." Glynda answered.
"I sense disdain in your voice Glynda. If you think you can do a better job, then you throw it." Peach argued.
"I can't! I have my work to finish." Glynda protested.
"I think our point here, Peach, is that maybe you can tone it down this year? Nothing too wild." Ozpin interfered.
"Fine. But I still want to do something special." Peach slumped against her seat.
"Hmm. What if you planned some subtle party games." Oobleck suggested.
"Okay. I'll see what I can do. Hey Oz, are we getting any visitors?" Peach asked.
"Hmmm. Well Qrow did say that he was going to drop by. And Tai also said he was interested in joining us this year." Ozpin said thoughtfully.
"Huh? Who's Tai?" Stjerne looked at everyone.
"Tai Xiao Long. He's a teacher of Signal Academy and a friend of ours." Peach explained.
"Anyway. Peach, just do your best not to go too wild." Ozpin stood up.
"Yessir." Peach nodded. Stjerne just sat back and sighed. This was gonna be a long week......
-------------------
I know it's not really the holidays anymore, but still. I know u all want more. So here ya go.
PS: Tyrian Pearl is introduced in this chapter! Hope I got the details right.
Summary: Virgil’s having a rough time and Patton helps calm him down.
Patton was laying down in his room watching the clouds trail across his ceiling when he heard a soft knock at the door.
“Come in!” He called, not looking away as he found shapes in the clouds above. The door opened hesitantly and a small sniffle snapped Patton’s attention from the sky to the Side standing in his doorway. Virgil’s eyes were red and puffy and he looked as though he might start crying again at the slightest of things.
“Oh, kiddo,” Patton breathed, scrambling to his feet. He closed the distance in a few sweeping steps and embraced Virgil in a warm hug. "What happened?“ He asked softly, gently running his fingers through Virgil’s hair as the Anxious Side started crying quietly into Patton’s shoulder.
“I don’t– it wasn’t a th-thing, I g-guess,” he said through small gasps of air, “I was just sit-s-sitting d-down writing and s-stuff and then I got h-hit by a wave. I can– it’s s-stupid.” He buried his face again, trying to dry his tears on the cat hoodie.
“It’s not stupid, Virge,” Patton said, rubbing his spare hand up and down Virgil’s back reassuringly. “It happens and sometimes all you can do is let it out. Letting it out is good, remember what we learned?” Virgil sniffled and slowly separated from the hug, still lightly holding onto Patton’s waist. When he finally looked into Patton’s eyes, he was met with such unabashed love and acceptance that he nearly started crying all over again for a completely different reason. Patton smiled and Virgil couldn’t help but return it as the other Side guided him back into his well-lit room.
“Do you think a little stargazing might cheer you up?” Patton asked, lying down on his blanket-riddled bed. Virgil looked at him inquisitively.
“But… it’s, like… 2pm?” Patton smiled and patted the open spot next to him in invitation.
“Then we’d better start watching!” Virgil rolled his eyes and laid down next to Patton. “Nah, I’m just kitten around,” he said, suddenly wearing his cat hoodie. “Don’t worry, the sky will come around,” he winked as he slowly spun his hand in a circle. Virgil was about to ask what the heck he was talking about, but then the ceiling changed.
The fluffy white clouds raced across the sky as the bright blue of midday melted into the rich colors of a sunset. Soon they were encompassed in an inky blackness and Virgil felt his heart clench in panic. Before he had the chance to really start spiraling downwards, he felt Patton lace their fingers together and he felt safe and calm.
“Give it another moment,” Patton said, barely able to contain the giddiness in his voice. After a few more seconds of darkness, the first star popped up. Then a third, twelfth, fiftieth, the whole room was awash with a soft white light as the stars twinkled above them.
“Wow,” Virgil breathed. Patton smiled as he rested his other hand back on the bed.
“I thought you might like it,” he smiled, gently rubbing the back of Virgil’s hand with his thumb. Even in this lighting, Patton could see the other’s eyes as they illuminated with the light from above. He felt a sense of calm wash over them both as he, too, faced the stars. They really were beautiful, though Patton was rarely ever awake to see them in real-time. He felt Virgil give his hand a squeeze so gentle he nearly missed it.
“Thanks, Pat,” he said with a small smile, “it’s… it’s perfect.”
They watched the stars for a few hours, drifting in and out of a light sleep until they had to rise for dinner.
“The wedding is canceled,” he had said, voice as stern as it had always been. But there was an exhaustion under that familiar layer. Something that made the flesh on the back of your neck stand up. So many questions poured into your mind all at once that you couldn’t focus on any one to actually put a voice to it. But your father was looking directly into your eyes, awaiting your response.
“What happened? Was it something I did?” you finally asked, voice steady but uncertain in confusion. You couldn’t help but to think of all the times you denied Tibor. Had he finally decided your refusing his advances was enough to call everything off? “Will this harm the company?”
A pause. Then he took a deep breath that did nothing to relax his posture. “It doesn’t seem that the Tibor family will be pulling out of our contract, so nothing will change going forward with the partnership. As previously decided tomorrow we will be pairing with the Tibor company for the assigned supplies at a reduced cost.”
That was too neat. Why would they continue to partner with your family with so little gain? Sure, the pharmaceutical company your family ran would still generate a good revenue for the Tibor family, but originally they had been getting a partial share of the company when their son married you. So this was still a loss for them comparatively. “But what-” you were cut off as your father’s phone ringtone pierced the still air.
With a quick look at the phone screen he stood, putting a hand up to you indicating for you to wait for his return as he left for his office. “Yes? ...I’m taking care of it right now.” That was all you caught before the office door shut.
It had all happened so quickly and yet also in slow motion. Your father had stayed in his room so long that the morning passed in an anxious haze. You showered- though it wasn’t satisfying-, helped your younger siblings get ready for school, and even after all of that he still had not left his office again.
The only thing you could think to do with all of the anxious energy you felt welling up inside of your stomach was the obvious. Wedding preparations would have to be canceled, and it was only proper to do so in person. Anything to save face that ahead of time, since you weren’t sure just how much of it you were set to lose.
In the car it plagued you, and you ran the day before through your head again and again. Yes you had shied away from his kiss, but you had done so a million times before. Truth be told you figured Tibor didn’t really have much love for you, but was ready to have the business end and a pretty wife.
So what had changed?
By lunchtime you still weren’t certain. But you were hungry and your father hadn’t made any attempt to contact you just yet.
You had previously arranged a lunch at a nice cafe for you and Tibor, and it did seem a shame to waste it now. Especially a high end cafe on the pier. To be able to get in you had to have connections, and a place like that called for a certain level of social decorum. Including not canceling unless the reason was something very serious.
The inside was cool, both in temperature and color. Tasteful cool, gray wallpaper helped the seating area feel comfortable even on the most warm of days. Large windows looked out into the water, giving just a little taste at the life of comfort and lazing about that one could have when you had enough money. It was one of the few perks that your social standing had that you didn’t hate. A little slice of quiet and clean that not just anyone could touch.
“Are you here for your reservation, Miss. [last name]?” the host had asked when you arrived. Was there an air of judgement? Were you being paranoid?
“Yes. I’ll be alone today. I am sure that won’t be too much of a problem?”
He gave the briefest shake of his head and bowed, putting his arm out towards the dining room in a universal sign of granted entry. With a slight bow you left the desk to find your table with the help of a waiter that appeared immediately to usher you to your waiting table.
It felt so normal, and with how you had been feeling all day normal wasn’t good or comforting. It was just strange. Like you were watching from another body as you daintily navigated the tables covered in fine white cloth, full of your colleagues and their loved ones. The polite smile on your lips that you didn’t even have to think about any more was plastered on and it felt like a scab wanting to be scraped off.
By the time the waiter pushed you into your seat you almost felt a touch feint from how strangely you were feeling. Both alive and not.
“Would you like today’s chef’s special miss?” the waiter asked, filling your water glass, almost startling you.
Not feeling enough like yourself to even look over a menu, you nodded. “That would be, lovely. Thank you.”
The waiter dipped his head once and collected the spare place setting before going. It was somehow more odd when you were sitting at a table that had been previously set for two. When had you last eaten alone? Had you ever?
This was a lot of internal reflection that you hadn’t been prepared for.
Quietly you slipped your phone from your pocket to check your messages again, but disappointingly you had none.
Fortunately you had reserved a seat by the windows that looked out over the nearby bay. Previously it had been by design to have something to look at while Tibor prattled on about whatever it was he wanted to drone about today. Now it served as your only company as you waited with your hands in your lap, feeling like a child lost at sea.
“What fortune.”
It took a moment to realize the voice was directed at you since you were so lost in your own loneliness. But something in the familiarity is what finally commanded your attention, and to say you were completely shocked would have been an understatement. Illumi stood next to your table, just a few steps away in fact, looking right at you. The small smile you had come to look for any time the assassin graced your presence was detectable, but almost impossible to see if one wasn’t looking for it.
But you were.
“Oh! Mr. Z-.... Illumi,” you corrected. While it seemed more polite to use his last name, it was a rare occasion that it felt more proper to not use it. No one in the world had that last name that wasn’t part of a notorious assassin family. You hadn’t felt encumbered with it before, since you had been privately wandering the gardens, but now it seemed a sin.
“Illumi is fine,” he assured you.
“Did you say… what fortune?” You tried to keep the girlish excitement out of your voice that welled up so quickly upon seeing him
“Yes. I was hoping to run into you again. I didn’t think it would be so soon. I admit the timing isn’t preferable.”
“Oh!” You looked around the room that you could see without moving your head, wondering if he was here on a job. “Are you… here for business?”
A very soft chuckle responded, “In a sense.”
“Would… would joining me be of assistance or just a distraction? I do have this whole table to myself after all. Though I am sure you have a table already…”
Illumi looked to consider this. “Are you sure?”
“Of course!” you exclaimed a bit too loudly. You realized immediately and gave a bashful, apologetic look. “I apologize for my energy, I was just thinking some company might be nice is all.”
He raised a hand, making a waiter appear immediately. “I would like my meal sent to this table instead. That will be all.” Promptly he waved the man away who left with haste as Illumi sat down. “Simple enough to arrange.”
Your previously fake smile was genuine now. The excitement you felt bubbling inside of your stomach at seeing Illumi again was hard to repress and pretend to not exist.
“I’m glad you seem to be better today,” Illumi said, resting one arm on the table top. You must have seemed confused so he continued, “When I saw you yesterday afternoon you looked quite pale.”
“Oh that. Thank you I’m fine now. I guess it must have been warmer than I thought, though I can’t recall the last time the sun made me feel quite that faint.”
“I am surprised you are eating alone. No fiancé today it seems.”
You frowned. The feeling of the day you had been living creeping back into your emotions at the edges. Blurry and cold it felt, encroaching on the fresh and clear feelings you had just gotten back. “No. No fiancé at all. The arrangement was broken off.”
“Are you displeased?”
Even though you liked looking at Illumi, your eyes were drawn to the view outside once more for a moment before looking back to his face. His eyes were striking and it felt like they saw entirely through you. “No.” It was the first time you had thought so plainly of it. The worries about what had happened and what would happen going forward were entirely washed away in that moment and only the truth was laid bare inside of you. “He wasn’t worthy of my attention.”
Illumi seemed surprised by your brazien statement and you almost worried you had over stepped. “No. I don’t think he was.”
The waiter brought salad and for a time you two ate in silence. Mostly you didn’t want to bother Illumi when he was possibly working, watching a potential target. Yet it would be a lie that you also didn’t want to annoy him into leaving as you were enjoying his company so very much.
You didn’t turn your head to look about the room- even though it was very tempting- when Illumi’s eyes strayed from the table.
Some part of you wondered what it would be like to watch him actually kill someone.
“Do you have plans already this weekend, Miss. [last name]?”
Illumi’s question brought you back to immediate reality, salad fork half raised to your mouth. “I don’t believe so. A lot of my plans for this weekend are probably going to be very suddenly canceled,” you confessed. So much of your life was about being a socialite that now with all the calls and appearances on Tibor’s arm stricken from your planner you were temporarily left with ample time. “Why do you ask?”
Silently he put the fork on the salad plate to symbolize he was finished with it. “I have to attend another party and I would like to have a dance partner that knows how to move around the floor.”
You swallowed and put the fork down as quietly as you could, a mixture of excitement and nervousness washing over you like a tidal wave. “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”
“I believe that is supposed to be my line,” Illumi replied with a smile as he leaned on his arm. The movement was so casual, like some icy wall of formality was dripping a bit and you could see through it to the man on the other side for a moment.
Illumi’s eyes were so dark that it almost seemed as if no light could hope to warm them, and yet they themselves held a certain heat. They were focused on you and only you and it was exhilarating.
“I suppose there is no rule written that it cannot be both.”
He chuckled at your response. “Don’t let your food grow cold,” he said sitting back up with perfect posture once more. As his eyes lowered away from your face it felt as if you could breathe again.
Without your notice the salad plate had been taken and a fresh plate of warm food had taken its place. How had you missed that?
Lunch passed pleasantly. He asked about your siblings again- their ages and hobbies- and allowed a question about his own family in exchange. Revealing that essentially everyone in the family was part of the business. You tried to imagine what it must have been like to be a trained assassin from birth. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t easily pictured.
The check came all too soon for your liking, and surprisingly it was set in front of Illumi. “Let me pay. I asked you to sit here after all and I took up so much of your time. I worry you didn’t even have time to work properly.”
But Illumi hadn’t even listened to your entire plea before pulling cash out and placing it with the bill and handing it back to a waiter. “I got plenty done.”
Even if it was customary that the gentleman pay, it still made that girlish rush come back again. Now it felt a bit like a date. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. May I walk you out to your car again?”
You nodded and started to move to stand but he motioned for you to remain where you were. Doing as you were instructed you waited as Illumi came around the table and pulled your chair out for you making it easier to stand gracefully.
He was so natural in everything he did. It was a marvel to watch as he offered his arm out again for you to take. This time you didn’t have a sun hat to hide the pink that spread across your cheeks, and all you could do was hope that Illumi wouldn’t think little of you for it.
Walking back out of the cafe was nothing like going in. You felt so very much a part of your body that you were overly aware of it. All the natural grace that had been bred into you didn’t seem enough as you walked next to someone so gorgeous.
“I enjoyed lunch today,” he said as the two of you waited for your car to come around and pick you up.
A hot, foaming warmth filled your entire body, and finally you figured out what that bubbly feeling was. It was hope. Hope that just maybe this handsome killer found you interesting and attractive. And it was scary. “I did also. I’m glad we ran into each other,” you admitted, hand still on his forearm.
“I will send along details about the party this weekend to your home.” The black car slid up, stopping right in front of the two of you. Illumi opened the door and guided you into it easily. “I look forward to dancing with you again, Miss. [last name].” As a parting gesture he took your hand into his and laid the softest kiss upon your knuckles.
“I look forward to it as well,” you whispered, placing your hand reluctantly into your lap before Illumi shut the car door and your driver pulled away from the cafe. You were grateful for the darkened car windows, knowing Illumi wouldn’t be able to see as you turned around to look at him one last time while he watched your car go, touching the knuckles he had kissed with your fingertips as you did so.
The entire thing was too good to be true. And for the first time the process of canceling all the wedding plans wasn’t painful, blurry, and distant. Now it was enjoyable. That was until a few hours later when a horrible feeling of sickness came over you again.
You had to return home early due to the feeling, a cold sweat starting to come over you once more. The possibility that you were sick occurred to you as you passed your father’s closed office door.
And for the next several days you were home bound, tossing in your sleep from whatever illness had taken you and praying that it would alleviate by the weekend.
Each day you lived just for the hope of the weekend and the handsome assassin that waited for you.
You jumped as your head tried to roll forward into the unconscious void. Everything felt heavy and sluggish. You hadn’t slept more than three hours in as many days, and eating had been in small bursts, so your energy was in no way regulated or normal.
But you had to keep moving. Walking forward because if you stopped you’d lose.
Currently you weren’t going anywhere though. The call of a park in the middle of the day had been too strong. You couldn’t remember sitting on the bench, but it felt nice to give your leg muscles a break. There was no way you had been resting longer than a minute before you had almost fallen asleep where you sat, and knowing how long you had dozed was equally as impossible. All sense of time and space was warped and your staring into a nearby tree’s leaves weren’t helping.
The green discs fluttered in the slight breeze, moving the highlight and shade in a mesmerizing way.
“Want some gum?” a girl asked her friend as they walked past. Like an abused dog you jumped at the mere mention of gum and watched the friends with caution as they walked by. They didn’t look at you or seem to notice you in any way. You had been paranoid for no reason.
“Fuck, I’m exhausted,” you muttered as you hung your head into your hands. “I just need some sleep.”
‘But you can’t stop,’ you thought to yourself. ‘You could have been sitting as long as thirty minutes already. That’s too long.’
“I know.”
‘If you don’t get up soon you might actually fall asleep.’
“I know.”
‘And if that happens, you’ll be found. And hide and seek will be over.’
“I know!” you yelled. A woman gasped lightly nearby, startled by your strange outburst. Sitting up you could see her look over her shoulder at you with caution before collecting her book and water bottle and leaving the nice grassy spot she had been sitting in. “I’m sorry! I’m not crazy I’m just-!” you paused and sighed, lowering your voice again, “I’m just really tired and running out of ideas.”
With great effort, the kind of effort you imagined it would require to pull the moon from the sky, you stood up on both feet again and began to trudge out of the park and back towards the bustle of the city. Each limb felt weighed down by rocks, and your mind swam with thoughts. The thoughts weren’t always clear and concise. Sometimes they were words, sometimes pictures, other times they were just colors and strange forms that couldn’t really be called anything.
You needed a plan, but all you could think of was how a bed would feel under you. Soft and embracing. Like a hug from someone you loved. Never before had you felt this level of total drain. It felt as if you could sleep for a week without waking up.
‘Stop thinking about sleep!’ you snapped at yourself.
With one last sigh of sweet park air you emerged into the city proper again, immediately stopping once more at the nearest crosswalk. Ahead of you was a scene of normality. People going in and out of businesses as cars in a rush.
Three days ago you had moved with that kind of purpose. Even chancing the energy loss to run at times. But now the idea of moving faster than a calm walk seemed impossible. “I just have to find the Ace,” you said to yourself as the light changed and you began to cross.
“It has to be in this city. And without it I can’t win.” A few people nearby tried not to be obvious as they eyed you, probably wondering if you were literally insane. “There has to be a hint I’m missing.”
A sweet smell hit your nose and you froze. “Is he here? Already?” you asked audibly, but very quietly to yourself. Time seemed to slow around you as your eyes darted from face to face. A flash of pink hair to your right and your heart squeezed. You backed up as your eyes searched wildly for the sign of the hair again, finally focusing enough to see a bored looking man with round features as the owner of said hair.
From behind, a low maniacal chuckle flowed. You could feel it slip through your body like a slithering snake and without a second thought you started to run. Where the energy came from you couldn’t be sure, but you shoved people left and right to get to a nearby alley way so you could gain some distance without as many obstacles.
The alley was dark. Too dark for midday in spring, and you couldn’t figure out why as you turned into it. Black, questionable puddles splashed under your feet as you ran as hard as you could. The part of your brain that was in charge of keeping you aware of your surroundings questioned how you had the energy to run at all. You weren’t even sure you were being followed and you were expending the last of the resources you had, but all of your tired and strained neurons said /run/.
Concrete back walls blended with red brick in your vision as you ran. A sour smell mixed with the gray of the street under your feet and for a moment that strange combination made you stumble. A quick touch to the ground with your fingertips had you moving again, not even a full stop. You would have been proud if you could focus on anything for longer than two seconds.
‘I’m too tired.’
“No!”
Nails against the nape of your neck, running up to your hair.
‘I can’t keep running much longer.’
“You have to!”
The thought of a sharp card running down your back.
‘I can’t.’
A guttural scream erupted from you as you tripped and fell clumsily onto the open street again.
“What the fuck?” a male sounding voice asked as you collapsed to the sidewalk.
“H-help,” you pleaded in a raspy voice between deep breaths. There was nothing left in your body. Not even to put your palms to the ground and push your face off the dirty concrete.
The man hesitated, feet shuffling in indecision. “I’ll help her,” a different voice responded, sounding absolutely amused by this event.
The steps that presumably belonged to the first speaker shuffled away with awkward haste, and calm footfalls came closer to where you laid on the ground. “Well now, I thought I had lost you and here you are finding me. That isn’t how hide and seek works, you know,” the voice said with delight.
Your sluggish blood turned to ice as you realized what you had done. “Well, did you find my Ace of Spades?”
Truth be told, you didn’t want to respond. Admitting to your failure as you laid face down on the dirty city sidewalk was too much. But you couldn’t have if you /had/ wanted to. Your brain was too tired to regulate emotions well, and your face pulled into itself in tight lines as tears welled up in your eyes.
“Too bad.” A foot slid under your shoulder and flipped you over carelessly. Above you, and upside down to your vision, the smiling face of Hisoka appeared. “Luckily for you this was just a practice round,” he continued as he knelt and rested his face against his open palm, tilting his head innocently against it.
Warm tears slid down your cheeks as you mustered up the ability to speak at last. “Pr-practice round?”
He chuckled, a single finger wiping away a tear from your dirty face. “Of course! Now that you know what the game is like it’ll be much more fun. I won’t have to go so easy on you.”
Easy?
Easy was three days of almost no sleep, very little food, and shot nerves. That was what Hisoka’s ‘easy mode’ was.
“Now I won’t hold back. Don’t forget, you promised me whatever my little heart wanted if I caught you first,” playfully he booped your nose, sincere and joyous smile still on his face. “And I intend to collect.”
Series title is from band based on the same name. The chapter title comes from the song ‘Maybe She’s Right’ by She Wants Revenge. You can find it by clicking the here. Sincerely I hope you guys listen to these songs because they are picked very specifically.
QUICK NOTE: Thank you all for reading this and being patient. I hope that the ending will leave you feeling satisfied, or at minimum feeling something deep and potentially haunting. This was a year long project and I'm very happy to have seen it through.Each comment left I read a million times. I sincerely appreciate each and every one of you for reading, leaving likes, and sharing your own words. I hope to see you in the next thing I write. ☆
Part 1 of series is here.
Warnings: Blood, fem dom, dubious consent (dub-con), mental manipulation, PTSD, light choking, slight impact play, NSFW
______________________
Even without nen abilities, anyone would have sensed the tension in the air. It hung thick like a fog over the sea, masking whatever potential dangers and terrors could lay just beyond the boundary of vision.
Not all funerals had such a weight, but this wouldn’t be the first or last that would.
Due to circumstances being what they were, the funeral was held in a rented hall and not at the hunter headquarters. Letters had been delivered to inform any and all they were allowed to come and pay respects to a fellow hunter, and so the hall had been specifically chosen due to its large size. But with the large number of people that did actually come, hunters and non- hunters from the headquarter offices alike, the large room still felt small somehow.
People taking turns at the urn of ashes and portrait to say final goodbyes before milling about with the rest of the crowd kept the room abuzz with strained activity. Everyone was still unnerved about the lack of lead on the murderer. If HQ couldn’t figure out a break into their own offices, how would they ever find a murderer? The feeling of piling issues helped to add to the tension fog in the room, but one question hung heaviest:
Who had tried to kill Pariston Hill?
It was customary that higher ups would go to a funeral of a dead hunter if they were able, but this one was so strained that Netero and the entire zodiac had come (minus the boar, naturally). The relationships between members of the zodiac were dodgy at the best of times, but now the other members especially didn’t seem to want to stand too close to the vice president in question. Pariston wasn’t too bothered by this.
In fact, it was hard to tell if he was bothered by anything. The occasional person would approach him and offer their condolences, and he’d take them with as much grace as he could, but there was a quiet about him that people couldn’t place.
Rumors were fast travelers in offices, so people knew that there was previously some kind of relationship with the deceased... or had been again? It was hard to be sure. But everyone knew that she was dead from pushing Pariston out of the way of an assassin’s blow. So that was reason enough for many to offer him their words specifically, relationship or not.
Pariston’s brown eyes caught sight of Thesander talking with Netero in the corner. He still had yet to pin the man down again to find out what he had been up to on the day of the break-ins, but now it might not matter. Today he was part of the security detail and would be hard to corner without anyone noticing. Making sure that no one tried anything at the funeral involved frequent check-ins, and Pariston wanted to have an uninterrupted conversation.
Sadly, the presence of security didn’t make many people feel any more reassured. After all, they hadn’t been able to solve anything so far.
“Thank you, keep checking in,” Netero said with a nod.
Thesander bowed before turning to leave, catching Pariston in the corner of his eye before pointedly looking away. With an obvious frown, Pariston considered revisiting the man at a later time today after all.
“How are you feeling?”
Netero had approached Pariston while he was lost in thought, but even caught off guard he didn’t let on that he had been less than prepared.
“A bit tired, actually,” he responded, moving his attention to the chairman. “I suppose that is what one is to expect from a funeral.” All of his usual quirks were still in place, the appropriate smile of one who was doing ‘their best’ with matching tired eyes.
“True. I assure you that security is doing all they can.”
Pariston knew that Netero meant in protecting the event as well as finding answers. But he honestly didn’t anticipate that the effort would be of any use to anyone.
“I’m sure they are. I think I’ve had about as much as I can stomach today, though. If you’ll excuse me.”
Netero watched Pariston as he left. A few other hunters noted his exit as well, causing a new wave of hushed whispers to rise up. He wasn’t acting his usual self, but what was to be expected? A threat on his life and the loss of someone that he was obviously close to would do that to anyone.
So he knew people would convince themselves. It was a convenient cover for the time being. But Pariston wasn’t one to be left wondering too long, and security or not, he had a need to find his own answers.
~*~*~
He entered into his apartment, dropping his keys unceremoniously onto the side table by the door with a loud clatter as he let out a long, aggravated sigh. His previous intel had been useless, but he wasn’t giving up. This was why he had people and they were going to do their fucking jobs, he thought as he dug his phone out from his pocket.
He too hastily punched a phone number in, pushing his way into his office in an adrenaline fueled rush. Rarely had he felt so aggravated, so much so he was being careless. He had gotten so accustomed to being in control of his world, and at minimum his own home, that he had let some of his caution slip.
And opportunity knew when to strike.
Before he could push the call button on his phone a noose slipped around his neck with a quiet ease. The silk rope caught tight before he had time to think. He dropped his phone so both hands could go to the rope and grip it, trying to pull it loose from his neck.
Distracted with the rope, the assailant easily tripped Pariston, a knee pushed into his back to accelerate his fall. There was no time to think as a thin needle slipped into his neck below the rope as he slammed into the ground.
He grunted with effort to recover as both hands scrambled to push up off the ground. Even as he got to his knees, the person on his back remained where they were: one knee against his spine and trying to force him back down, one hand still holding the rope tight, the other pulling the needle free of his neck.
He thrashed his elbows backwards, attempting to do anything to knock his assailant away. His increased heart rate only helped whatever had been in the needle course through him faster and quickly he tired. Legs losing the ability to function and making him fall to his knees when he tried to stand. He felt the carpet rub against his face before losing consciousness.
You panted, sitting on Pariston’s back, rope still in hand and a fine sweat covering your forehead. You had done it. You had subdued Pariston. His body was completely still as you loosened the rope enough for him to be able to breathe easily again. You waited several minutes before allowing yourself to relax, just in case he had been pretending.
He wasn’t pretending, you were sure.
“Now for the rest,” you muttered, turning Pariston over and standing. “I think we’re overdue for a little revenge, Mr. Hill.”
~*~*~
Pariston’s coming back to consciousness was slow, and you watched his head roll from side to side as he fought off the lingering effect of the drugs.
While he had been having a nice drug induced nap you had used the time to prep his office for your own uses. New chain loops in the floor, a few tools added to the items on his desk, and of course enough rope to try out a few different ties you had been thinking on over the past few months.
Admittedly, you had to give yourself credit, the pose you put him in was quite pleasing. Naked, he knelt in the center of the office floor with ankles tied to chain loops you’d installed. His arms were bound together behind his back; ropes running between his wrists and up to his elbows for another connection point before tying into a chest harness that you had rigged to the ceiling so that when he woke he was already on his knees, partially suspended.
Long had you dreamt of the day you’d have Pariston kneeling helplessly before you. And now that dream was reality.
Groggily he lifted his head and looked up at you, eyes focusing to see you in his office chair watching him in turn. You had allowed yourself a few dramatics: a long black coat, white garter stockings, heeled boots. You knew it was a bit pretentious, but if you didn’t do it now the opportunity wouldn’t come again. He smirked at you and hung his head as a guttural chuckle rolled out from his chest.
He wanted you to prompt him about it, you knew. Pariston’s games were so obvious to you now. But you didn’t say anything. Instead you sat, head resting on your fist as you leisurely leaned on the arm of the office chair, waiting for him to be done with his own theatrics.
“I know about you breaking into my office,” he said finally, lifting his head to look at you, eyes completely dark and devoid of his usual fake sweetness. Even his grin was just a twisted mimic of his normal one.
“I would hope so, we are sitting in it,” you replied simply, showing no fear or concern at his appearance.
His eyes narrowed. He knew you were playing with him, and as much as he was able he wasn’t going to let you. “Telling the association about my… activities won’t be worth all this effort. I have already put into place countermeasures to assure that.”
“Oh, Pariston,” you said with an exasperated sigh as you dropped your arm to lean forward in the chair, “I don’t care.” Your face was only two feet from his as you leveled with him. “Do you think I care what you have done to those poor missing hunters? Though to be fair… eighteen is quite a lot.”
He didn’t respond; his face didn’t even shift at all in reaction to what you said.
You stood, walking around the room to a wall that had a familiar art piece hanging on it. This too you had added while he napped.
“Or is it you think I care what you have done to other women?” you asked as you caressed the painting that had been titled ‘Snare’ in what you knew was Pariston’s honor. “Though I do have to admit, this one was an interesting person. Truly talented.”
Still refusing to give you any power, Pariston was silent as you looked the painting over again. “No,” you continued at last as you turned to face him again. “I don’t care. But!”
You started towards him again, reveling in his watching you from his place on the floor, “I wanted you to think I cared. I wanted you to think that I was gathering intel about those hunters. That way you had something to focus on, a plan that you could curve and best me in.” You smiled as you made your way round him to the desk at his back. “Pariston Hill. Vice Chairman. The Rat. You always were so presumptuous.” Silently, you picked up the riding crop from the set of items you had placed upon the desk in preparation earlier. “Always thinking you were one step ahead of everyone around you.”
The sound of the crop singing through the air to strike his back was the sweetest music you had ever heard. As expected, he made very little noise. But the quiet hiss he couldn’t hold back was equally as sweet a sound.
“You always stood so tall and sure,” you continued, bringing the crop down again. “Sure no one could touch you. No one would get a step ahead of you.” Another smack. “But now look at you.”
Walking around the rest of the way, you stopped in front of him, placing the crop under his chin to urge him to look up. The thought to resist crossed his mind, you saw it as plain as day, but that would be giving you a power he didn’t want. Instead he went with the movement, as if it was something he was allowing you to do. “On the ground like the rodent you are.”
A wide smile was still on his face and it admittedly was starting to annoy you. “I knew I was right.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I think it is safe to say there is much about this situation you overestimated.”
He laughed again, shaking his head. “I knew you hated me,” he said looking up at you with a spark in his eyes again. The corrupt dark of his face would have made you second guess yourself in the past. But now it had the exact opposite effect: it gave you a new rush, something bubbly and warm. It traveled from your heart out to your limbs and made you laugh. A nice, long, true laugh.
Squatting down, you put your right hand to his face, cupping it tenderly as you stifled the noise back. “That was your mistake, Pariston. You didn’t make me hate you.” In your head you envisioned your fingers slipping into his skin, probing deep into his face as you fed into the desires of your heart. You wanted him to truly feel what you had to say. “You made me love you.”
You remembered the feeling of butterflies on your first kiss. The ill guided sense of feeling like a prized possession when he became jealous. Your burning rage at seeing another woman on his arm at the gallery. So many things you remembered and fed directly into him, and as you did you watched his face.
Even the proud man he was couldn’t remain neutral when bombarded with such strong desires. His smirk faded and a look of pain started to grow in his eyes, his entire demeanor changed into something you couldn’t recognize. “Don’t you remember that last night? Even as close to literal insanity as I was, I still remember it.”
Hand still on his face you leaned in to his other ear and whispered, “I trust you. I love you. I’ll be a good girl for you. I love you so much, Pariston.”
His skin went cold under your hand and you pulled away to stand again. “I suppose part of that was a lie after all. I have no intentions on being good for you now. Now I’m being good for me.”
You moved the office chair to the side of the room as Pariston hung his head, processing all that you had just pumped into him.
“You wanted to know what I was doing for a year, didn’t you? You asked only a few days ago. You know… the day I died,” you continued, coming back to him and circling to his back once more. “I think it is time I showed you what I am capable of.”
Everything inside of you felt like it was on high alert. You hadn’t taken any dark, powerful, and overwhelming desires in a while. So this was all your own. The thrumming of energy that you could feel down to the tips of your fingers, the hyper-aware senses, the twisted cravings that whispered in your ears. This was all you.
Not borrowed. Not shared.
“I decided that maybe it was time to train up my nen abilities at last. You’ve gotten just a little taste of them just now, but to be honest… I’ve been holding back before today. Waiting for this chance.” You slid your hands over his back, keeping the crop in your hand between finger and thumb for the moment. “Not only can I use my manipulation ability more accurately now, but a nice side effect appeared after our relationship. I can feel your desires, get traces of your thoughts. Then I can turn them over in my hands and mix them with my own and make you feel what I want. It’s a handy trick to have as well as general manipulation. Would you like to see?” you asked in a hushed voice, sliding your left hand down his back and around to his chest.
Naturally he didn’t respond, and you stopped with your hand over his heart. “Pariston, you will do whatever I want. You will not use nen, and you will not stop until I give you permission. Answer me that you understand.”
The rush of nen that flowed from your hand directly into his body felt like a river compared to your previous encounters. This was your ultimate level of ability, a level 4. Something you promised you would only use on Pariston. He would be compelled to do anything, even if it could be something that caused him great harm.
“I understand,” his voice replied, dull and lacking any of his normal trills of joy.
You shivered, his response resonating inside of you so strongly that every hair on your body raised. “You can sound more excited about it. I’ll still allow you to speak however you want. Perhaps you’ll want to call me a slut again as I make you lick my boots,” you muttered in his ear before pulling away and shaking your hands, still feeling the rumble of excitement in knowing your ability was working as it intended.
“Do you still feel you ‘know me’, Pariston?” you asked, bringing the crop down on his back with a harsh slap, a pink blush blooming on his white skin. You knew personally that if you let it blossom a bit more it would deepen into a red stain. You hit him again, walking around once more to see his face.
“Look at me,” you commanded.
His head trembled as he actively tried to fight your command now, but was unable. Finally he’d stopped smiling, the lines of his mouth curved somewhat downward as something inside raged unseen. It only made your own smile grow.
Dramatically you opened your coat and let the dark fabric slip from your shoulders to reveal the white lingerie set. “Don’t you remember? That was what you told me when you gave me this. So tell me, do you know me?”
You could see his shoulders tense, every part of him wishing to regain the upper hand. “Yes.”
“Interesting,” you said, stepping forward so you could rub your leg against his face. “Tell me more.”
A fresh grin. “I helped create you. You’re just emulating me. So of course I know you.”
“Not entirely true. I have more creativity,” you said, hooking your leg over his shoulder so that your inner thigh was next to his face. “Show me a bit of affection, won’t you, dear?”
He was so deep in your control that commands didn’t need to be terribly specific, as long as the intention was clear. As you commanded he turned his face into your leg and kissed the sensitive flesh. “We’ve had a lot of good times together, haven’t we? Just because the roles switched a bit doesn’t mean we can’t both enjoy it.” He didn’t respond, kissing his way up your inner thigh as you leaned into his movement. “Tell me the truth, Pariston, are you enjoying this even a little?”
His lips brushed the white underwear teasingly, and he answered with eyes lowered. “Yes. A little.”
“Would you prefer to be standing where I am right now?”
“Yes.” This answer was faster and firmer than the previous. Dutifully he continued to nose and lip at your underwear in a tender fashion that you had rarely seen.
Even at the beginning of things the first time, he had never been truly gentle. Something about it was exciting in its oddity.
You tilted your foot on his back to press a heel into his muscles as his tongue lapped at your pussy. The action earned another uncontrollable hiss from him. “Not too far. We have a lot to do,” you said, pulling your leg away again.
“Stand up,” you commanded, pulling the rigging rope that you had tied off on the side of the room to help coax him to move quickly.
Paristion stood, wobbling just a touch as blood rushed to his legs from having knelt so long. You tied the rope off once it was taut enough to keep his body hoisted if he were to try and dead weight on it.
“Oh, you’re a bit hard,” you pointed out, approaching him again. Teasingly you ran the crop under his testicles, then up the shaft, watching his leg muscles tense as you did so. “Maybe you like this more than you’d like to admit.” You leaned in close so you could see up into his face. He looked back at you, refusing to back down each time you stepped up.
Putting your hand into his hair, you pulled his face to yours to kiss him, using the connection as an opportunity to fill him with desire again. Want me. Look at me. Want me so much that it hurts. That was what you wanted more than anything else on the planet. You just wanted his undivided attention, lust, love.
“I’ve waited so long for this,” you told him as you dropped the crop, letting it hang by the strap on your wrist so that you could take his cock into your hand. “I’ve dreamt of you looking at me, unable to do anything as I teased you.”
You pressed against him with your palm and rubbed up and down with force. “Don’t hide how it makes you feel,” you told him, kissing his throat. “I want to hear you.”
Warm, sighing breath turned into a quiet humm as you resumed biting and sucking the perfectly even skin. He had marked you so many times, but you were not allowed to do the same. ‘It’s proof you’re mine,’ he had told you, and so you had savored each hickey and lash in the private sanctuary of your bedroom.
He pressed his hips forward to help create more pressure in your hand as you bit his neck particularly hard, the iron taste of blood slipping into your mouth with the next suck as Pariston groaned reluctantly into your ear.
“Should I leave you on edge as you did to me?” you whispered, licking your lower lip free of the tiny trace of blood that had escaped. The wound wasn’t big, and the amount of blood was slight, but seeing the mark was satisfying. “Would that be fair, you think?”
Gripping his cock firmly, you pumped him as your hand in his hair pulled his head back with a cruel tug. His perfect lips were open as he groaned and panted, silhouetted in the dim room from your perspective. Had he enjoyed watching you as you enjoyed watching him? Did he see art in you?
You licked your hand, making it wet and slippery so that when you resumed your fast and hard hand job Pariston’s knees buckled almost immediately. It didn’t take long before he came, white cum covering your hand as he moaned his release.
“Good boy,” you praised, releasing his cock and hair at the same time before wiping his cum on a towel you had kept on the desk with the other supplies.
Surprisingly, he remained standing with his own strength. But while he stood there you could see his eyes trying to focus as his shoulders tensed and loosened, a little cum still dripping from his tip. He was trying to break the manipulation.
“We’re not done just yet. I am just warming you up. Wouldn’t want you to go soft on me when I’m still using you,” you told him as you gripped the crop again.
“Stand up straight,” you said, bringing the item against his ass to emphasize the point. He snapped back into position at the command.
“Do you know what it is like to love someone, Pariston?” you asked, rubbing a hand down one shoulder to his arms, feeling their strain and testing the muscles to see if they needed a rest. “The kind of love that makes someone choke the life out of their infant in a tub so the dirty and dark world can’t touch them. The kind of love that causes children to hug a pet to death. A man shoots his wife so that she can never leave him. A love so deep, enthralling, and consuming that it roots through every part of your brain? Pleasure, fear, hunger.”
As you spoke, you finished rubbing each arm and then moved back to where the ropes were tied off, dropping the crop to the floor as you went. As you released them entirely, Pariston wobbled, following your command to stand straight even without the support of the rope suspension. His arms fell to rest against his back and he softly sighed at the relief.
“Don’t move from that spot unless I make you. And do not touch me unless I tell you to,” you commanded, in case some part of him managed to find a loophole in command and break through in any small amount.
Despite your caution, you still picked a knife from the desk and used it to cut the loop that attached his ankles to the floor. Then you pulled the suspension rope free of the harness and tossed it to the side. He didn’t move the entire time.
“Even when I’m bored I think of you,” you confessed, running the blade along one of his thighs, just enough pressure to open up a thin line of blood, but not enough to cause real bleeding. “Do you know what that feels like?”
“I know what you’ve shown me,” he replied, face obscured by his shoulder from where you stood.
A part of you felt disappointed. He couldn’t lie to you, so his words had to be truthful. Yes, you had known that he didn’t love you. At this point you didn’t truly want him to, because that would have made things complicated. But there was that small part of you that was still so enamored by him that it hurt to know he never loved you.
Yet at the same time it was freeing to the rest of your mind. The part that had suffered, cried, picked up a knife and thought about suicide. For that part of you, it made everything so much easier.
“And I’m not done showing you,” you said, sounding normal despite the slight lump in your throat from the battling emotions.
You took in a deep breath and grabbed the loop around his wrist, pulling him backwards to the desk. Using your arm you swept the desk clear, office supplies and your own items clashing to the floor and scattering in a mess. Pariston looked over his shoulder, frustration plain on his face as he watched you make a mess of his personal desk. You looked back at him as you knocked the only item left on the desk that you had missed- a pen in an elaborate holder- on the floor with the rest.
As you slid onto the cold desktop, you released the rope before leaning back to watch him comfortably. “Face me,” you commanded, and he did. Grabbing the harness and tugging him between your legs you put as much skin to his body as you could. Thighs to his sides, chest to chest, one arm curled between your breasts so you could keep a hold of the harness. “Kiss me… like you love me,” you said looking up into his eyes.
It would have been sad, maybe it was still sad, if it wasn’t something that you specifically requested to make as much of a connection as possible. You wanted his mind to reach into the desires you fed, the feelings you contained, remember how he hurt you and be forced to reenact those things that had landed him where he was.
He hesitated, and you wondered if he would resist because he couldn’t be forced to do something he pretended to do before, but then he leaned down. His arms were still trapped behind his back, so he was unable to touch you, but all the same he brushed your lips with his before kissing you softly. No biting, no tongue, just soft press of lips. Then he kissed you again, taking your lower lip into his, pressing you backwards, and you cupped his chin with the handle of the knife you hadn’t let go, temporarily forgetting it was there.
As he kissed you, you imagined morphing into his skin and letting everything you had felt over the course of a year unleash into his body. The red vines of his desires pulled at you in retaliation, slipping under your skin and trailing your veins as both of your desires became a complicated and inseparable tangle.
You could barely focus to bring the knife to his back and cut the knot that kept his wrists together. With it broken the rest of the tie around his arms could easily slip off with movement. His hands immediately went to your face, pulling you to him as he simultaneously pushed your body further backwards onto the desk. With your eyes closed you could still see him, bright red vines coming from his skin and sinking ever deeper into yours, as your own skin connected to his before breaking apart when you moved.
It took effort to pull his mouth off of yours so that you could say anything. Perhaps that had been part of the plan, but you weren’t going to give up all the power and potentially let him slip away. Now you opened your eyes to see him staring at you, the spark in his eyes you had seen several times before perfectly in place in the darkness. Even if he hadn’t loved you truly, there had always been this strange, disgusting passion.
It would have to do.
“Love my body,” you whispered, “Until I am satisfied.”
Already he had been completely hard; you had felt his cock against your leg growing stiff as you kissed. Easily he used one hand to push the white panties to the side and spread your labia to enter into you. But unlike the previous recent times he didn’t enter into you with one hard thrust. Instead he eased inside at a nice pace. Not agonizingly slow or harshly fast.
You moaned, and he used his free hand to pull your bra up to reveal your breasts. Creating a steady pace with his hips, he licked your nipple before biting lovingly around it. Comparatively to all the times before, these were chaste, tiny love nips.
He rode you like this for some time as you held onto him with your thighs, watching his every move as he existed to please you for the first time. You reached down and put a hand on his throat, making him look up at you as you applied just enough pressure to have the threat of choking him available.
“Harder now,” you told him.
He happily obliged. One arm next to your head kept him steady as he built up speed. Your command earlier must have still been working, because he was groaning as he moved inside of you, something he rarely did with this much intensity.
As Pariston moved inside of you, gradually you applied pressure onto his throat. His groans turned into muffled noises as you kept the grip loose enough for him to breathe, but with a bit of difficulty. With time the act was morphing into something more familiar, rough and dark as he snapped into your hips with vigor.
You still had his harness in one hand, keeping him close and the feeling of power in both hands. “Work my clit,” you told him, breathy and surely flushed.
His free hand immediately moved to do so as he continued to work you. Even this movement was hard though, he pressed on the sensitive nub with too much energy but it was just what you wanted at this moment.
Your body tightened up and you cried loudly as you orgasmed, Pariston following soon after.
Every part of you felt good, and slowly you felt like Pariston’s desire vines retracted from your body. You thought at first that being left back to your own devices would make you feel empty and hollow, but it didn’t. You still felt as whole as when you had started.
Pariston, on the other hand, collapsed to his knees, and you released the harness at last.
He was panting hard, harder than what would have been normal for regular sex, but you had come to expect this from using your ability. He was exhausted from manipulation, and you could see him still trying to fight it off as he put his hands on the desk to each side of your hips.
“It’s no good, Pariston,” you said with a pleased sigh, enjoying the last little high of your orgasm before sitting up. “You’ll pass out before you break it.”
“What’s your plan then?” he asked, looking up at you as you moved to more comfortably sit on his desk to look down at him. “Eventually the association will come looking for me.”
You pouted. “I know. I have been thinking about this a lot, you realize.” You noted the trembling in his limbs. They were tired and still trying to fight to move against you. “Lay down before you tumble over.”
He frowned, but moved so that he would have room to do so anyway.
“I’ve thought about it almost every day. Several people have asked me what I’ll do with you,” you said, standing and adjusting your panties and bra so that you were somewhat back to normal.
“We’re not quite done. Sure someone will look for you. But not today. You attended a funeral and made it quite obvious you weren’t yourself. No one will be looking for you for at least two days, I would suspect. Was that fun for you by the way? My funeral? You didn’t look like you were having fun.”
Pariston closed his eyes, let out a long breath, and when he reopened them it was as if he were himself again. He was smiling, and spite being vulnerable on the floor he seemed to have made some kind of peace. “Tell me, (y/n), when did you decide you’d have to kill me?”
You hid your reaction by going to the fireplace in the corner of the room. It was getting dark out and no one would question the smoke. Pariston often liked to light it in the evenings. As you turned the dial for the gas you replied, “When you asked me if I hated you at dinner.”
The realization that you loved this monster, someone who would hurt you and do everything he could to crush you, had pushed that last remaining wall in your mind.
With a whoosh, the fire came to life before you. The warmth licked your thighs and you stared into it for a moment, strengthening your resolve.
“I’m sure you understand it was the only choice,” you said, turning back to face him, still enjoying the sight of him watching you. Having his full attention like this was so special. “Unlike you, I can’t just break you and abandon you. I’d just find you again. Or maybe this time you would find me, after all I have done to you. It would become a cycle never meant to be broken. The only way to be free of the cycle, is to make it go away.”
“Or,” he said, lifting a hand to brush stray hair from his face so he could see you--or more accurately, so you could see him--perfectly, “we just don’t stop the cycle. Stay with me, (y/n)-”
“Adra,” you interrupted.
He looked at you, and a glimpse of something passed his face, but he continued, “Stay with me, Adra. I’ll forgive you for acting out this once. Then we can go back to how we were.”
So easily his voice had slid back into honey and promises. He was so very good at that, and it’d be a lie to say that the pull at your heart wasn’t strong.
Without responding, you went to the knife you had dropped and picked it up lazily.
“Back to how we were?” you asked with a sweet tone, letting the emotion of that love sick idiot slip out of your mouth like water. Carefully you straddled him.
“Of course. I accepted you back last time, didn’t I? Obviously I care about you, Adra,” he said, lifting a hand and brushing his knuckles over your face as you closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation.
With your eyes closed you breathed out, slow and ragged, then licked your lips. “Put your hands to the floor,” you said in the same sweet tone. Both wrists dropped to the floor. “And don’t move unless I tell you to.” You knew you had already said that command. So how he had touched your face like that you weren’t sure. But you weren’t going to lose focus and slip up like you had before.
With a breath in you opened your eyes again. “If you can give me the one thing I desire from you, Pariston, I’ll do anything you want.”
With your skin touching his you could get a read on his desires again, and he was definitely trying to obscure them by thinking about your desires. But it didn’t work. The red vines were curled and ready to strike, ready to possess and break. His words had been truthful. They would go back to how it was before. Before when you were the one taking orders, and he had done hateful things to you.
“Name it. What is it that you want, darling?” he asked with an iconic grin.
“I want your heart.” You let that truth hang in the air for a moment. “Tell me truthfully, can you give me your entire heart?”
He paused, shock and confusion clear on his face. But he couldn’t lie, it had been a command.
“No. I can’t.”
“That’s why I’m going to just take it. I’m going to take from you the only thing I’ve ever wanted, the thing you’ve refused to ever give me.” You held up the knife, silver shining in the fire light. “And then… I’ll be free.”
~*~*~
Epilogue:
“Time of death was last night,” Thesander said, stepping around the office items strewn on the floor.
“That is impossible, I called and checked on him last night,” Netero replied, his usual jovial mood completely clouded over as he stood in the office of his former VP. “Just to see if he was doing okay from the funeral the day before.”
“It must have been after that,” Thesander replied. “We’re still figuring out a timeline.”
Netero pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated that somehow three major incidents had happened so close together and all at once. They had to be connected. They had to be solved.
“Keep looking for clues,” Netero barked at the chosen CSI team as he left the office to think.
He didn’t get far, as Cheadle was waiting for him in the hallway.
“The lead was a dead end,” she said, foregoing drawing it out with the circumstances being what they were. “We couldn’t prove anything with the intel. If Pariston did make those hunters disappear he covered it very well. With luck we found the man Pariston had privately assigned to investigate the break-ins. He said Pariston seemed sure that (y/n) had something to do with it. You might want to talk to him,” she informed him with a quick hushed voice so as to not gain the attention of anyone else that was in the large apartment sweeping for clues.
Netero scowled. “What the hell happened here, Cheadle? Who was targeting Pariston?”
She sighed and looked around the hallway once before looking at her boss again. “It seems Pariston had many past relationships that ended… badly. My theory is one of them finally caught up to him, sir.”
“That would explain the body,” he responded, hands on his hips as he thought over the situation.
“The body?”
Knowing Cheadle wasn’t exactly a fan of Pariston, Netero considered not bringing it up. But as he looked into her face he knew he had to if he wanted her help to solve this. “Pariston’s cause of death was removal of his heart.”
Thesander sighed, tipping his hat down over his forehead, hoping no one had noticed his sudden stillness and quiet breathing while he had listened in on the quiet meeting outside. Luckily he had always had good ears, a little known fact and one that could escape notice in times of stress.
“Thesander, do you think I’m a bad person?” she had asked him on the day of the break-ins, looking sadly into her tea. The small break room had been quiet before, only the sound of coffee brewing had filled the silence until she spoke.
He had almost spilled his coffee at the sudden question before looking at her. “N-no! Of course not. You’re just… You’re doing your best. I think everyone who works here knows that.” And it was the truth. While some people might look down on how she had handled things a year ago, her coming back spoke volumes to her strength.
She sipped her tea. “I think someone is plotting to set me up for something. I’m scared.”
Thesander hesitated. He knew the office rumors: if you got too close to someone Pariston was involved with, you could get hurt. Literally. But it was just office gossip. The morbid rumors created by people with too much power and time. “Hey. As part of security I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
She licked her lower lip and reached out, grasping his arm with her left hand. “Thesander, you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me in any way, right?”
His heart picked up. She looked so sad, so vulnerable. He had to help protect her. Had to. “Of course I won’t,” he replied, and meant it.
Her eyes looked up from her tea and into his, and he felt weak at her smile.
“You promise?” she asked, with more energy.
“Of course I promise.”
She squeezed his arm once and left the break room, leaving Thesander to reflect on the strange encounter alone, until Pariston had made his sudden entrance. It was immediately obvious to him why someone would ask such a favor when the VP was looming over you, looking at you the way Pariston had. That was when he knew that he would do whatever he could to protect her.
But then she had died and he had done nothing to prevent it. A feeling of regret had lived in his heart since that day.
“At least one problem fixed itself,” he quietly said with clear malice, looking at the cloth that covered the body still in the room.
Scouring the room one more time, Thesander stopped, seeing a hair next to the fireplace that didn’t look anything like Pariston’s. With a gloved hand he picked the item up and observed it. A flash of her face came to his mind.
“You find something?” a coworker asked from behind him.
“No,” he answered easily, “Just some of Pariston’s hair. I’ll bag it anyway.” The other man took that as well enough and moved out into the hallway to check in his own findings with the president.
Thesander put the hair into his pocket before making a very fast sweep of the room for any other signs of her. Another hair but nothing else. He pocketed it too before his coworker came in, making a mental note to do a deeper search for signs of her having been here when he was alone again.
“Netero says to take the painting too. I dunno why but he wants it,” his coworker said. “Man, he really did have a good taste in art, didn’t he?”
“Guess money does that sometimes,” Thesander joked back. The other man laughed and left the room to join the rest of the squad that was meeting in the kitchen.
The painting above the fireplace was entrancing, he had to admit. The dark reds, black, and white combinations created a feeling that was hard to describe. Almost as if you got too close it would trap you inside of it. But it was almost beautiful in its horror. A sense of hope somewhere in the white maybe?
He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know anything about art.
This is a thing I have been toying with that is part of a writer collaboration. The second part will be posted by another writer in the future. And when it is I will reblog it here. But please, as always, enjoy and let me know what you all think of it. Hopefully it will make up for the hiatus a little bit.
~~~~~~
Your heart was beating with a steady pace, but it felt like it shook your entire body.
It took a conscious effort to keep it calm. “Don’t get in over your head,” you warned yourself mentally.
Don’t let your adrenaline make you do something stupid.
The glass square in front of you seemed almost transparent, the artfully arranged lights that illuminated the item inside had been placed specifically for that effect. Idly, the thought crossed your mind to reach out and run your fingers over the cold surface of the ceramic. This insatiable desire to snatch something from a museum wasn’t new to you, but the fact it was a tea set did strike you as odd when you thought about it logically.
Jewels, expensive paintings, national treasures. These all made sense to drool over. But a fucking tea set? If you couldn’t clearly see the glowing air around it that marked it as a special nen object, you would have been concerned that your taste was starting to slip.
“The Bolama Tea Set has traveled the world and the origins are unknown. The clay used in the making of the tea set is not native to any known developed land. It has a dark color naturally which can be seen inside the pot and cups, while the outside has been glazed to a brilliant blue.
Legend says that whoever uses the teacup marked with a bird will gain the life energy of the person who uses the teacup marked with a rodent.”
The animals were both red on the bottoms of the cups that were tilted on an angle so that the viewer could clearly see them. Against the dark color of the clay that practically glowed.
Stories accompanying objects were a dime a dozen, especially if they could be confirmed to be over two hundred years old, but since the set was covered in nen energy, there could be some truth to the legend. And you wanted to find out so bad. The potential mystery in front of you only made you want the set more.
The cold glass surface became obscured as a man stepped up next to you, standing a bit more closely than the mostly empty art museum hall really required. His pale face reflected right in front of the teacups, dark tousled hair showcasing how pale he was even in his almost transparent reflection.
“Do you think the legend is true?” he asked. The friendly quality of his voice took you by surprise and made you look at him directly. He continued to look at the display case and you noticed he wore a headband, which was curious. Clothing could tell a lot about a person, this was a fact you used to your advantage when scoping out potential targets, and in your experience the only people that wore headbands like that were usually sports enthusiasts, people that wanted other people to think they were sports enthusiasts, and hunters. But you didn’t sense any nen from him. And he wore far too much black for a sports enthusiast.
He could just be a weirdo. There were also plenty of those in the world.
But most likely he was using zetsu to make it seem as if he couldn’t use nen.
Then again, maybe you were giving a stranger too much credit.
“Of course not,” you said with a small laugh and light hearted lit to your voice, “Legends are just silly stories right?”
His eyes slid to you and slight goosebumps rose on your flesh as his dark irises looked directly into you. There was a coldness behind that warm voice, you hadn’t noticed it before but now even as he smiled you felt it. Had you been too distracted with your lust for the Bolama set?
“Hmm? You think so?” His voice still sounded so pleasant, so normal and welcoming to conversation. But now you couldn’t shake the feeling of a looming darkness standing next to you. He hadn’t given you any reason to feel on edge, but your instincts were never wrong. “Most legends come from a level of truth to them. Perhaps someone poisoned the rodent cup, and the legend started. Meaning it isn’t anything mythical so much as… sinister?”
Your fingers started to tingle, in the way they did right before you were about to steal something you had been coveting. A slow smile spread across your lips as your carefully maintained heartbeat picked up just a little. “For some people the art of malevolent intent is mythical. It makes it easier to say a demon made you do something horrible than it is to admit you did it yourself. And society likes to accept that answer. Surely no one that corrupt could actually exist? Demons make much more sense. They are absolved of guilt or guilt by association if they just accept the existence of creatures they cannot control.”
The man looked shocked for a moment as he looked back at you. A warm sense of pride at his reaction filled you as your grin only grew. Shutting down men that thought they were deep was in your top 3 favorite things list.
But to your surprise he didn’t get angry or frustrated. Instead he smiled and laughed. Not the irritated laugh you had heard from others before that laughed so they could quell a growing anger at being shown up by a woman, but a sincerely entertained laugh. “I think you’re right. Is it not why Satan exists? If you can say that you were led into temptation by a force that is greater than yourself then you cannot possibly be responsible for the guilt that you have earned. But then, are people no better than children unable to think for themselves? When children are young we excuse much of their follies with the fact they don’t yet comprehend the world in the way adults do. Exonerating them of any sin they could have brought upon themselves. So by using the contingent presence of evil entities are we not just allowing our growth to be stunted?”
Is this what people called a ‘nerd fight’? “Are you saying we are all just ignorant children refusing to grow up and take responsibility for our actions?”
“Well… some of us more than others perhaps,” he said continuing to hold a smile as he looked back to the tea set.
“Do you take responsibility for your choices that others might perceive as malicious?”
He paused, and the once simple and pleased smile twisted into a grin as he slipped a hand into his pants pocket. “I’d like to think so.”
“Why? Because you are an adult, or you like to be identified as a malevolent demon?”
A small chuckle this time and he did a quarter turn to fully face you. Automatically you turned to face him as well, only now noticing in the break of your back and forth banter that you were enjoying yourself. Playing a game of verbal tennis with a total stranger- a stranger that was starting to seem more attractive by the moment if you were completely honest- was pretty fun.
He had to be a hunter.
“Do you have time for dinner?” he asked, dark eyes holding you in place with their intensity. His warm voice had lowered into a more predatory dark tone. It made a lightning strike of excitement run up your spine.
Admittedly, you were taken by surprise for the second time at the sudden offer. “Depends,” you replied leaning casually on one leg as you looked the man up and down to decide for yourself if a dinner treat before a job would help you feel motivated, “are you buying?”
~*~*~
The walls were real wood, dark and sealed to preserve the natural color that helped the room feel warm and inviting, spite the icy cold people that occupied it. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling offered enough light to fill the room but small lamps on tables and mounted on the side panels gave each table its own individual glow. Tall bay windows provided a screen into the outside world in the form of darkness and blinking lights, like artificial stars. The diners that sat closest to them naturally ignored the view, they had paid good money to look snobby and they wouldn’t be denied a chance to show off to the other snobs just how much more contemptuous they were than everyone else.
It was the kind of restaurant you visited when you wanted to relish in the fact that everyone around you thought they were safe, as you sipped wine knowing with a smug sense of superiority that you had robbed one of their own and now dined on their dollars. It was in your top 4 favorite things.
Tonight was somewhat different though.
You had been given an address and a time to meet from the man in the dark clothes, but you hadn’t been quite expecting this. Luckily you had dressed for the part. A long dress with a plunging neckline that you kept specifically for occasions such as these.
After the conversation at the museum you had guessed that the stranger would take you somewhere he could show off more, and you had pinned it exactly right. Though, to be fair, you were even a little surprised by the level of showmanship.
Mentally you praised yourself for confirming who was paying for dinner beforehand.
“Shall we?” he asked next to you, holding an arm out for you to take. The maître d was gesturing for you to follow a member of the waitstaff as he led the way into the large dining room where quiet conversations and the clinking of dinner wear could be heard.
With a nod you took his arm and followed, realizing for possibly the first time that your greed had gotten the better of you again. The thought of getting a nice meal with a handsome stranger had blinded you to potential dangers. He could have not shown up. He could have shown up just to kill you.
The second thought was definitely the more titillating of the two. Which would have been worrying if you hadn’t decided a long time ago that therapy was boring and stealing things was much more entertaining. It was the thrill of it all, and this was just another job. Stealing a meal from this handsome stranger before disappearing.
Maybe if you played your cards right, you could get away with more.
“Your table,” the waitperson said stopping next to a bay window. Before they could pull a chair for you, the man slipped from your grip and did it himself. You smiled and sat as he pushed the chair gently under you.
He was good.
As he moved to his own chair you admired the way he looked. A black tailcoat with a high breast. Very cutting on his form, and you had always liked that look more than the long-breasted coats. It made men’s waists tempting to touch. A midnight blue cravat was tied around his neck and it complimented his odd earrings perfectly. Black hair was slicked back, and you decided it looked nice in this environment, but the down and tousled look was definitely preferable. Admittedly, he looked intoxicating.
Maybe you would have to stay for dessert.
“May I suggest our newest wine? It is an import from Azia and pairs well with tonight’s dinner.”
“That will be fine, thank you.”
“This is quite the elaborate place,” you commented, sitting back in your chair to look around at the other diners casually. A few looked at you from the sides of their eyes, obviously judging as in polite company one didn’t simply look around and observe others so blatantly. But you just smirked and looked back to your dining partner. “Maybe I should have dressed up more.”
“You look lovely,” he commented, and it made you smile. Who could tell how sincere it was, but it made you feel good.
“Thank you. Luckily, I think that you look handsome enough for us both anyway.”
His lids lowered a little, giving his face a much more serious look than he had in the museum. “Handsome for a malevolent demon?”
“An alleged malevolent demon,” you corrected, holding up one finger. “You didn’t confirm nor deny.”
“I suppose you are correct. I didn’t.”
“You also didn’t grant me your name. Somewhat cruel for a gentleman, be he demon or man. Especially when you so brazenly invited me to dinner.”
“Usually you have to already know a demon’s name to summon him.”
“Unless you happen upon one and then you must learn his name so you can summon him again, if you so desire.”
Another chuckle.
You couldn’t help but to notice that since arriving to the restaurant that your companion hadn’t been behaving quite as every-man cheery has he had previously. In the shroud of the night he was much darker by nature. His voice lower, and the way he looked at you as if he was going to pluck you from a museum like a trained thief.
“You interest me,” he said as he leaned over the table toward you.
“Hmm? Before you try to steal my innocence, sir, I should warn you I don’t have much left.” You leaned in towards him just a few inches, enough to make your flirtations clear without giving too much away. Your index finger toyed idly with a strand of hair that fell in front of your ear as you looked up into his eyes.
“I suspect not,” he said with a smoky voice that made your fingertips tingle.
That was when you realized it was a race. A race to see who could snatch the other first.
Half of your mind told you to get out while the going was good, but the other half was on a high of curiosity. Who was this man? If you probed deeper what would you find?
What could you take from him?
The waitperson arrived, but neither of you moved. “Your soup course. Tonight we have vichyssoise,” they said as small bowls were placed upon the central plate. They poured you each a glass of wine in silence, obviously not minding the fact that the two of you were staring at each other waiting to see who would look away first.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t let the person leave without recognition. Service people had it hard enough without being ignored, even though most people did so. Without moving the rest of your body, you turned your head to smile at them warmly, “Thank you so much. It looks delicious.”
Since you had broken first, your partner turned and also thanked them as his wineglass was placed back into position on the table.
Resuming a proper position on your chair you stared into the soup bowl. Chopped leak floated on top of the cool white broth and collecting a few pieces into the spoon proved easy seeing as it was a chilled soup. The taste had a surprising underlying sweetness to it, and you sipped at the spoon enjoying the feeling of the cool liquid running down your throat. “It is very good,” you commented as you gathered another spoonful to sip.
Carefully you slid your foot forward slowly until it gracefully touched his own, he didn’t look up from his own bowl but you could see the corner of his lips quirk into the slightest of smiles before bringing the spoon to his lips. “Delectably creamy,” you added licking the side of the spoon to catch a drop before it fell into your lap.
The soup was gone quickly. The rich creamy broth dictated it would be a small portion so that the consumer would have room for the next course. How many there were you couldn’t be totally sure, at minimum four since the service started with soup. But it could be up to seven.
Oh the silly knowledge you had gained over the years of tricking rich fools.
As the bowls were whisked away, the man ran a hand over the side of his head, making sure his hair was in place before he leaned on the table an acceptable amount. “I would like to ask you something more direct.” It wasn’t really a question, or a form of seeking permission. He had said it in such a way that you couldn’t really say no without seeming rude, not that you would have minded coming off rude to a man that dared to command you after knowing you for at maximum an hour.
Taking the wine glass into hand you sipped it, smirking at the light lip print that was left behind. Deliberately you moved your leg so it touched his softly, like a whisper, and looked at him to show you were listening.
“How were you planning on stealing it?”
Uncertain if it was the soup or the icicle of potentially being caught in your mind, your blood ran cold for a few seconds. You controlled your face to not display this sudden change in your temperature. “Known each other less than a day and you’re calling me a thief? Perhaps you are mistaking my intentions?” It was a statement that could blanket many things and didn’t give away that you knew he knew.
But he did know.
The way he looked into your eyes directly, his hand resting on the table casually so that if he had to grab the silverware it was within reach, the knowing smirk. It all gave away that he very much knew.
“If demons did exist in this world, do you think they would know each other immediately? Or do you think it is possible for them to fool each other? Perhaps, they could even fool themselves?”
His leg moved closer to your own and now they were touching with force. You managed to continue to keep your cool as you responded, “Hm, this is a difficult topic.”
“Because demons aren’t real?”
“Because it depends on your perception of demons.”
He nodded to encourage you to continue before sipping his own wine. Idly you ran a finger around the rim of your water glass as you thought aloud. “In many mythologies demons have a natural order, levels if you would. So higher level demons are more apt at deceiving man and beast alike. They can appear normal to any untrained eye. But also, they can spot weaker kin instantly. Often, they can recognize fellow high-level demons in a way that even lower tiers can’t say they feel from their own kind. A type of respectable feeling of knowing someone before properly meeting them.
But are we to assume that in this world they follow those rules? And I suppose more importantly how is one to know said rules?”
“Then you believe it is possible?” he asked sitting back, the mischievous grin on his face only growing.
“Who knows? Maybe only a demon would,” you replied before a fresh sip of wine as the waitperson returned with two beautifully crafted salads.
“Salad course is a bibb lettuce salad with lemon dill vinaigrette,” they said as the plates lightly clacked against each other. The salad was piled so nicely that it almost looked like a flower, petals glistening with the vinaigrette like morning dew. Eating decadently was nice from time to time, but admittedly it also seemed like a shame to make something you were going to eat look so pretty.
Mercilessly you picked up the salad fork and took up a small bite of the dish to taste, ruining its beauty. The lemon after a creamy soup course was a nice pick up. The service felt like it was ramping up to the entrée with each crisp crunch of the leaves.
“I think that the ability to recognize a soul that is similar to yours is an acquired ability as opposed to an inherited one. One develops it as a way to know who is friend and who is foe.” The smooth cadence of his voice was so natural, and how he effortlessly brought the conversation back to a point that was beneficial for him was artful.
You nodded putting the salad fork down. “I suppose you are correct. And I would also think that in the case of meeting a similar soul, trying to hide would seem rather silly wouldn’t it?” Elegantly you patted your lips free of the vinaigrette.
“It would be foolish to try and hide once spotted, yes.” He was staring at you. You could feel it, the power of his knowing eyes on you.
So, this had been what you were sensing before at the museum. He wasn’t a hunter, or at least if he was he wasn’t a traditional one. He was a thief. And he had figured you out before you had figured him out. Not that you could let on to that fact. Pretending that you were on his level could possibly be the only way that you would be able to make your way out of this situation.
That, and you had wanted that damn tea set first. No man, no matter how attractive, would swipe something you had been yearning for, for a week, from under you. Moments passed while you sipped some wine to wash your palate clean and your salad plates were taken away. Soon the entrée would arrive. The meat of the meal.
Finally, you looked up to meet his eyes, knowing full well he had watched your every movement up to that point. His face was serious, chin resting on his hand to steady his gaze as he waited for you to acknowledge him. You had to hand it to him, he had been quite patient. Below the table his leg was still pressing into yours and you hadn’t moved away from him at all. “I suppose it would also be foolish to hope that we had different targets, just at the same location?”
He smiled. “I think something could be worked out,” he said with amusement.
This probably meant he had several targets, or would be willing to split the prize after the object had been hawked. But you still wanted to find a way to try the cups. What was the fun of acquiring a mystery if you couldn’t try to solve it? But once it was out of the museum, who was to say what wasn’t possible?
Coyly, you slipped your other leg forward so that you gripped his between your two. “You sure know how to surprise a lady with a good time,” you practically purred.
He reacted positively, hooking one of your ankles with his foot to forcefully slide your legs closer to him. “I believe in taking what one desires.”
“I guess that means I never had a choice then,” you pointed out, worried only momentarily that he would pull you from your chair entirely. “I suppose this also answers the question I asked earlier.”
“Oh?” he asked, shifting his leg slightly against yours and making a small shiver run up your spine.
“I asked if you perceive yourself as an adult or as a malevolent demon.”
The waitperson stopped by the table and he sat up so that the entree could be placed in front of him. “The entree tonight is seared dry rub salmon with fruit salsa on top. Sauteed vegetables and long grain rice as a side. And naturally, bread.”
This time neither of you could look away from the other but you made sure to mutter an appreciation, positive that they could feel the tension that was growing between you two and didn’t really want to interfere with that anyway. Which was confirmed with how quickly they left the table again.
“I take it you have come to your own conclusion.”
“I have,” you replied lifting a leg and running it up the side of his, making a more brazen move since the seal had been broken on this strangely intense conversation.
“Well?” he inquired seeing you weren’t going to be forthcoming on your own.
“A malevolent demon to be sure,” you said with a quiet laugh which abruptly stopped when his hand caught your ankle under the table.
His tight grip made you clutch your dinner fork. To defend yourself? Just to have a grip on something? Even you weren’t sure. But as he brushed his thumb over your skin he shifted forward on his chair enough that he could touch your leg and look relatively natural while doing so. “And you? Are you a demon or a human that is merely influenced by demons?”
You slid the dinner fork through the salmon, making sure to get some of the salsa from the top to go with the bite. Like everything it was delicious. The spices in the dry rub mixed with the sweet and spicy salsa. His hand slid from your ankle to your calf, gripping almost painfully as he went so as to get your attention.
“The guard rotation around the tea set walks by every 3 hours at night. The glass can be removed with a special tool I have a replica of,” you looked into his eyes again, wondering if he would be audacious enough to actually pull you from your chair or upset the table in a way that would draw attention.
“And the cameras?”
“I have my own way of dealing with those,” you stated before taking another bite of salmon.
At long last he lifted his own fork with his spare hand and took a bite of his dinner and you felt a little calm permeate the air. The tension was more noticeable once it had regressed some. The hand on your leg was still very warm and present. He was keeping control of you physically in a subtle enough way that none of the other diners would notice if they had the gall to look. “You’ll have to tell me later then,” he said with an expectant tone in his voice
You nodded, feeling compelled to follow his direction. Not sure how much of a choice you had, or maybe that was an excuse?
“Chrollo,” he stated plainly.
The fork stopped shy of your mouth. “Chrollo?”
His smirk was back, the one that seemed dark and yet sincere. “That is my name. I look forward to working with you.”
~*~*~
At some point the streetlights had stopped going by the car window. Almost total darkness stared back at you through the tinted glass as the trees on the side of the road obscured the distant, blinking city lights. The driver hadn’t said a word from the moment Chrollo helped you into the car, and he hadn’t given any directions to the very still form in the front seat. The quiet felt stifling after being in a restaurant surrounded by noise and a constant flow of conversation. It created a sense of foreboding which floated around the small space as the car took you even further from civilization.
A temperate hand covered yours, which dragged your attention away from the window. Chrollo was looking at you with some of the warmth that his face had held during the museum trip and it was hard to tell if it helped you relax or only made you more tense. “Don’t tell me a thief is afraid of the dark.”
A soft chuckle came from you at the mere idea. “Do I seem like I’m on edge or something?” you asked, noticing you might have let some of your cool mask slip.
While you knew hand to hand combat, you didn’t have any physical weapons on you in the moment, and Chrollo had all the control. You were going somewhere with him where he would have the advantage, possibly allies. But he hadn’t given you much choice when he told you that he was going to bring you with him. To talk about the plan.
He didn’t know you well enough yet to trust you not to do something brash, or stupid, after separating at dinner. It only made sense he’d keep you nearby. So, there was an unspoken threat about not doing as he wished. And it was never good to bring attention to yourself with a fight in a fancy restaurant before a job.
And it would be a lie to say that part of you wasn’t finding thrill in this turn of events, even though as you had sat in the car it sank in just how potentially over your head you really were.
The leather seat didn’t even squeak as Chrollo shifted so that his body was turned towards you as his hand cupped your face. “What does a demon have to fear from the night?”
Now you actually laughed, some of the weight lifting from your shoulders with the release of the tension. It had been a little corny, and the smile on Chrollo’s face didn’t give away if that had been the intention or if he just hadn’t cared how you reacted.
When your laughter stopped, he pulled you closer to him on the back seat until he could easily lean down and brush his lips over your own. The movement had caught you by surprise, and you could feel your cheeks warm.
Which was quite rude of your body to betray you, since you had been doing so well at playing the little flirtatious game at dinner. Even throughout dessert- which might have been a somewhat rushed in hindsight- the back and forth banter and casual touches had remained constant. It was almost too distracting for you to enjoy the apple tartlet and on location made vanilla ice cream.
Almost. That tartlet had been amazing.
“What brought that on?” you asked while attempting to read his expression before he turned to face forward with that smirk on his lips again.
“I just wanted to. No real reason.” It looked like a thought crossed his mind as his eyes wandered from the driver to the window and back to you. Gently he put his finger under your chin to run his thumb over your lip, “Does it bother you?”
“Not at all,” you said with a small shake of your head, and he pulled you to him again, making you stretch to meet his lips. The kiss was surprisingly chaste, but firm.
The car stopped, and he broke the kiss with a chuckle. “Maybe we’ll continue this later?”
“Maybe,” you confirmed as he released you and you sat back comfortably in your seat.
Chrollo accepted that for now with a nod, swinging the car door open to slip out. Was it just the trait of a thief that they seemed to move with such deliberate ease? Did you look like that?
You took his offered hand to slide out of the car, using his balance to steady yourself as you did so. Secretly you hoped you looked half as graceful.
The building the car had stopped at appeared to be an abandoned apartment building, easily seven floors tall and you wondered where Chrollo kept his lovely tailcoat when he wasn’t using it. Or maybe he had stolen it just for dinner tonight. That was kind of an attractive thought.
Behind you the car was turned off but the driver didn’t move to get out. “Come with me,” Chrollo said as he moved to the front door and held it open.
Inside the building looked worn, but not like it was a complete safety violation just yet. Old wallpaper peeled in places, dirty with age, but some light glowed from an apartment door that had been left open on the right side of the hallway.
Without thinking much about it, you moved towards the light spurred on by curiosity. A plain living room was visible beyond the door frame, a lamp on the coffee table the only light. You almost walked into the room automatically but stopped when you noticed fine threads spread over the doorway like a spider’s web.
But it was apparent to anyone with nen that these were not normal.
“What’s wrong?” Chrollo asked behind you.
You pointed at the threads and looked back at him, “I suspect you should enter before me.”
He smirked, putting one hand into his pants pocket leisurely. “Machi, let down the threads.” A pause. Then the threads were quickly tugged away from the door without a single sound. “After you.”
Walking into a previously trapped door seemed like a horrible idea, but at this point you had to accept you were in this deep. Might as well dive in.
The apartment furniture was mostly intact, just old. A musty smell circulated the room and particles floated lazily in the lamp light around a woman with pink hair sitting on the sofa, one leg curled up to her chest. Her blue eyes watched your every move as you entered the room and stood to one side for Chrollo to come in.
“Where is Pakunoda?” The air about him had shifted somewhat. If this was how he truly was it seemed the Chrollo from dinner was the closest you had gotten to his true self so far because he was relaxed, but in control. His shoulders were back but slumped somewhat as he looked at the pink haired woman.
“On her way. She’ll be here soon,” the woman responded, her eyes flicking to your face and narrowing in distrust before going back to Chrollo’s. “She said everything should be ready for tomorrow on her end.”
Admittedly since you had done dinner it had gotten somewhat late, but you had still been hoping that the heist would happen tonight. It was a bit disappointing.
“Good. Let’s go over the plan tomorrow. Would you like to rest?”
It took a moment to register that he was addressing you with the question as you were distracted with the aura of malice that was radiating your way. “Hm? Oh. Sure,” you replied. Mostly you wanted some time away from the woman you presumed was ‘Machi’ and have a moment to think of what your own plan was going to be.
“I’ll be back momentarily. If Pakunoda comes back have her wait with you until I get back.”
Machi nodded and Chrollo gave you a simple smile before turning to lead you out of the apartment. Meanwhile Machi was watching you directly again and it wasn’t in your nature to not say something about that. “Nice not meeting you,” you half joked with a wave before you left to catch up with the person that had gotten you into all of this. Machi didn’t seem to react but you were curious how much she wanted to murder you.
“She seems nice,” you told Chrollo as he opened a door across the hallway.
He laughed as he went through, “She is.”
If that was nice then you wouldn’t want to see her angry. Or Chrollo for that matter.
This apartment was a mirror of the last in set up, but the living room was occupied by a different sofa. Where had the people gone and why hadn’t they done something with their furniture? The thought only persisted further as Chrollo led you to a bedroom that still had a half decent bed with a pillow and a blanket. You tried not to wrinkle your nose at the thought of how long those items had been here, but truthfully you had slept in worse.
“I was surprised to hear that we wouldn’t be getting to work tonight,” you confessed as Chrollo stopped in the room, cutting off whatever he was about to say.
“It’ll make more sense tomorrow when we discuss the details,” he said leaning against the nearest wall, watching you.
That was the problem with thieves, they were always watching. “Do you plan to rob half the museum?” you asked moving in close to him.
“I plan on taking what I want.”
“So you’ve said. If you have help, why ask for mine?”
“You seem to have a good understanding of the museum, we share a goal,” he ran a hand down your exposed arm, “and- as I said before- you interest me. Thus, what is to stop me from taking you just like I take everything else I want?”
“I can’t argue that.” Instinctively you leaned in towards him so that your body was almost touching his, threatening to pin him to the wall with one more step. “What would you have done if I had said no to dinner then?”
His hands gripped your wrists and pulled, making you crash into him and you were surprised at how comfortable he was to lean against despite the hard muscle you could feel under his dress clothes. “I knew you wouldn’t.”
You opened your mouth to say something snarky back, but the chance was taken from you as Chrollo kissed you again. His fingers around your wrists tightened to a painful level which made you wince. When he freed your lips you quietly hissed a noise of pain at how hard his grip was. He didn’t seem bothered, if anything you could feel his grip tighten just a little more on one wrist before he turned you in one swift movement to pin you to the wall.
Due to the speed at which it had happened, the force of being slammed into the wall was painful and you clenched your teeth to keep from making any noises of pain. Chrollo’s free hand grabbed your chin and forced your head up and to the side so that he could easily bite at your neck and nip your throat.
Everything had progressed so quickly that you only now noticed your heart was pounding, and surely he could feel that heavy throbbing in his teeth as he bit down on your sensitive nerves.
You were completely in his control, in a place far from the rest of the civilized world, with the only people nearby to hear you scream being his associates. Saying you had dived too deep into the pool would be under exaggerating. For the first time you felt actual fear well up inside of you, making you feel cold everywhere but the places Chrollo touched you.
Swimming in thoughts of lust and fear you accidentally let a moan escape when he bit down on your shoulder and sucked. Your hand struggled against his strength, but he had firmly pinned it to the wall at your side, so your other hand went to his shoulder gripping the soft suit fabric tightly in your fingers as you struggled to know if you wanted to push him away or bring him closer.
He stood straight to take in your expression, and you knew you looked flushed already. Your heart was just beating too hard, and maybe you had held your breath to keep from moaning at each touch. Like some school girl that was being touched for the first time. Passively you assured yourself it was just because it had been a little while. That was all.
Taking your hand from his shoulder he brought both of your hands over your head, holding them with only one of his own. “So that’s the face that lives under your mask,” his voice was boastful and soft, secretly you loved hearing him talk.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you were trying to sound coy and confident, but even you could hear the low tremble in your words.
The back of his fingers ran from your temple to your cheek as his dark eyes drank in your attempt of a cock-sure smile. “I could see just a peek of that mask slip at dinner. And I wanted to take it from you right there in front of everyone.” You shivered and his hand slid down your neck to your shoulder. “This look suits you. It’s honest and greedy.” His fingers danced their way under your arm to your back and easily found the zipper on your dress. “Your eyes practically beg for me to feed that greed because you can’t take it for yourself. Not while you are held like this you can’t anyway.”
The comfortable fabric of the dress loosened in a waterfall around your body as he dragged the zipper down, leaving you standing naked save for your panties and shoes- as the dress hadn’t allowed you to wear a bra. That was the upside, and downside, of such clothing: once it was gone you were horribly exposed. Subconsciously, you rubbed your thighs together before you caught yourself and steadied your legs.
Chrollo was smiling again, and gods you enjoyed the way that little smile accompanied the look in his eyes. He put his hand to your lower back and you could feel the skin warm instantly at his touch. “Maybe my plan to take what I want is to seduce you into just giving it to me,” you managed finally as the warmth spread to your butt with his movement.
“Not a bad plan,” he praised, fingers sliding under the curve of your bottom to tease your vaginal lips. You let out a sigh, spreading your legs just enough for his fingers to have room to move teasingly against you. “But what if I stopped right now? You wouldn’t get what you wanted.” His fingers stopped moving completely.
You licked your lower lip, hiding your disappointment. “Then you wouldn’t get what you wanted either, right? So where would that leave either of us?”
“Perhaps all I wanted was this. Having you exposed and craving my touch. So I would win.”
Being careful to not move quickly enough to accidentally harm him, you lifted a leg and moved your thigh against his groin, feeling his dick react with a twitch which made you giggle. “Seems a lame victory. Like stealing the glass of the display case and leaving the jewels.”
Gently at first you rubbed your thigh against him before pushing harder, knowing you were also rubbing his balls with each movement. His lips parted absentmindedly, a sign he was enjoying it. The growing firmness against your thigh helped prove that. “Come on, boss. Don’t you want to take something that isn’t yours and mark it up?”
His hesitance had actually played in your favor, giving you a moment to take initiative and gain a little ground of your own. Some of that initial fear had converted into adrenaline that was feeding you to be sassy. But Chrollo’s ego wouldn’t allow it long you realized, because with another fluid motion you were falling onto the bed. His dark silhouette loomed as you started to get onto your elbows out of a natural reaction. “No. Stay as you were,” he said, tone dark with a sense of order that was used to being heeded.
The ground you had just gained was crumbling as you laid on the bed looking up at him as he loosened his cravat, eyes never moving from your body. It seemed like a good time to remove your shoes, so you toed them off, hearing them hit the floor with a soft thud. “Nothing bad is going to happen,” you told yourself as he dropped the flowing fabric from his neck and began to remove his coat. “You can handle this. This is just a bit of fun before a job.”
Every movement he made as he undressed made the adrenaline within you increase. Your legs were almost trembling with need, as well as from an understandable fight or flight reaction. Chrollo draped the coat over a nearby chair and you ran a hand down your chest watching him take the time to remove his shoes. His eyes watched as you cupped one breast and pinched the nipple between two fingers, hips shifting against the bed in anticipation.
You enjoyed him watching you. Knowing that he would notice each little movement made your skin raise in goosebumps and your other hand caressed your hip as he moved towards the bed. He stopped next to the bed and continued to observe you as he removed the cuff-links from his shirt. The pause gave you a chance to regain that crumbling level field again, so you slowly lifted yourself up to your elbows. This time he he said nothing. Testing the line of his order, you sat up and shifted your knees underneath yourself so you could rise upon you knees to match his height the best you could with the slight height disadvantage the bed created. His face didn’t give away anything, and it was starting to irritate you. The least he could do was give you a bit of reaction for your performance.
Teasingly, you ran your hands down his chest as he put the cuff-links into a pants pocket. Even through his clothes you could feel the defined muscles and you bit your lower lip imagining what he would look like naked. Using just the tips of your fingers, you caressed his neck. Drawing lines from the pale flesh down to the top button of his shirt. Purposely looking at his shirt buttons and not his face, you popped the button free and with a leisurely pace moved to the next. The building joy you felt as you did so was comparable to opening a gift, it didn’t matter that you had a good guess what was under the paper. A new toy was a new toy.
Chrollo ran his hands through your hair, moving a few strands out of the way of his view of your face. This little tell made it apparent that he did enjoy your show, so much so he wanted to watch every part of it as you moved your fingers down his front.
Unable to contain yourself from taking a bit more, you leaned forward and kissed the side of his neck as your fingers continued their dexterous dance on his buttons. Your trained fingers could open locks, nick wallets unnoticed, and coerce men to do your bidding with just the barest of touch. But still you enjoyed the action of slowly popping each button free and revealing the undershirt that hugged his torso underneath. Chrollo’s long fingers moving through your hair only added to the experience, definitely helping you feel inspired to continue doing whatever came to mind and you straightened out enough to run your tongue over the soft curve of his ear.
The last button came free and your hands moved past the stiff cotton to the softer undershirt to caress his chest. His skin was so pale, probably from thieving at night and hiding out for most of the day. You wanted to ruin that beauty. Each little kiss back down to the nape of his neck was just as teasing to you as it was to him with that thought in your head.
While your hands continued their adventure of his body, he freed his hands of your hair and shrugged the shirt off his shoulders. Moving in such a way as to not disturb your actions, he pulled the shirt free of his pants and tossed it join the tailcoat on the chair. He was obviously distracted by this menial task, so as his hands met your hips you bit his neck- hard enough to leave a bruise to be sure- and he hissed. His muscles tightened under your touch and the fact that he made it so apparent that he had been caught off guard made pride swell up in you, even as he grabbed your shoulders to pull you back. “Bold, aren’t you?” he questioned, almost sounding a little irritated. Already you could see the beautiful purple blemishing his skin.
“I can get a little needy,” you admitted, reaching for the button on his pants as you spoke. You were too involved now, so even his slight disapproval couldn’t stop you now.
Chrollo resumed removing his much more complicated outfit as your fingers worked the front of his pants. Easily he slid the suspenders from his shoulders and threw off his undershirt with haste. Somehow even rushed, it was really attractive to watch a man undress from a good outfit. And the increasing speed at which Chrollo was becoming naked let you know he was getting excited.
His dick was pressing against his underwear, bulging out from the open front of his pants, trying to become completely free. You took it into both hands, rubbing your thumbs against the underside as your fingers laced around his girth, the silky fabric of his underwear adding to the sensation for you both.
“Take me into your mouth,” he said in that same commanding tone as before. You licked your lips and looked into his face finally. His eyes had a shine to them that hadn’t been there before and his lips were in a perpetual tiny, almost unnoticeable, smile. To encourage you further, he put a hand on top of your head and leaned in towards you.
“Of course, boss,” you replied, really hoping the playful use of the title made him feel a little less in control of your actions. But if it did he didn’t let on as you slid his underwear down to free his dick at last.
He was already hard, but as you wrapped your hand around it you could tell there was room to grow. Rubbing the side of the head you ran your tongue over his balls and up the underside to the head. The veins in his sensitive flesh were protruding a little and you could feel them on your tongue as you repeated the motion but taking your time to let the tip of your tongue explore. Something told you that Chrollo wasn’t the type to be loud, but that only made you want to really earn a reaction.
You loosened your grip and started to rub your fingers up and down the shaft of his dick, keeping it teasing at first. Any piece of flesh you left exposed became a target for your lips and tongue to flick against, providing some lubrication to your fingers as well. He still hadn’t made a noise yet, but his dick grew so that now your grip was tighter purely because his size demanded it.
Shifting you positioned your mouth over the head, running your tongue around the ridge of flesh as your hand’s speed remained constant. Despite the fact he still wore his dress pants, you could see his thigh muscles tighten as you took him into your mouth, carefully brushing your teeth over the sensitive, wet surface. You couldn’t be sure over the sound of your mouth working, but you swore you could hear his breath catch from that move.
You chanced a glance up as you worked your tongue out under him and sucked. For a brief moment his eyes closed and a fresh sense of pride egged you on. Your free hand gripped his thigh for support as you gripped the base of his cock to hold him steady for your mouth. Carefully, you backed him out of your mouth and then brought him in, taking his length deeper into your throat before pulling away again. The pace was slow and deliberate and each time you came back you managed to fit more down towards your throat. It was a delicate balance of pace and stamina as you tried to be careful so as not to not over do it and make yourself gag. Each time you carefully touched your teeth to just the ridge of the head his thigh muscles would tense again and you knew that he liked the slight thrill.
You managed to take him entirely in, gagging only a little as his dick rubbed against your throat, but not enough to be ashamed of. Now you picked up the pace. Finger and thumb creating a ring around his base, you quickly sucked and backed him out of your throat just a few inches before going back. His hand on your head gripped your hair tight and you wished you could look up into his face again, but that would distract from your careful rhythm.
Somewhat unfortunately, Chrollo finally gave you a reaction. Both hands buried themselves into your hair and he forced your head to move faster. Both of your hands gripped his thighs for stabilization as he brought your mouth too fast back onto his cock and you gagged a little as he did it again. To the best of your ability you breathed in through your nose and tried to work your tongue around his dick as he kept up his harsh pace. A single tear ran down your cheek as you wondered how much longer you could take the abuse. You hoped that your fingers were leaving bruises on his thighs as you clung to him for dear life.
Just as you started to wonder if you’d pass out from not being able to get in enough air for how fast Chrollo was going, he finally released the pressure on your head so you could pull away enough to recover. He hadn’t come but he was definitely at full erection now, a little pre-cum sitting on your tongue as you coughed and took in a full breath. His hands hands slipped out of the strands of your hair and you sat back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you gave him a low glare. It took a moment for you to regulate your breath, but he was of course not paying attention to you now.
Instead he was slipping his pants and underwear off, taking the suspenders off of the pants with particular care. “That was a bit rude,” you said after recovering more thoroughly, sounding only a little breathy.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
Admittedly you didn’t. But if you said yes, would he? He had already made it very clear that he planned to take what he wanted. “No.”
He smiled facing you again, suspenders taut in his hands. “No, what?”
You swallowed as your heart slammed in your chest. “No… boss?”
He laughed and pushed you onto the bed as he followed. Had he seriously thought that little name to be sexy? Or was he just messing with you? You couldn’t tell as he knelt on the bed and turned you onto your stomach with one hand.
With a skilled and fast hand, Chrollo easily tied your wrists behind your back with the suspenders, your hammering heart still echoing in your ears as you tested the strength of the accessory. They gave enough so it was comfortable, but he had tied them in such a way it would be hard to escape.
“You know I saw you the first day you looked at the tea set.” You turned your head in an attempt to be able to see him over your shoulder. It was difficult but you could see his face as he watched his hand rub your naked back. “I’m not sure how long you were in town before that. But I knew what you were when your eyes lit up.”
You didn’t get to ask any questions as his hand left your back and came across your ass. It didn’t hurt much, the action had been playful. “I knew that shine instantly. A demon cannot hide what it is from another demon, right?” When you didn’t respond he smacked you again and your fingers curled into your palms. “That was what you said right?”
“That is what I said,” you agreed.
He made a low noise of pleasure, somewhere between a chuckle and a ‘hn’. “I didn’t lie when I said you looked nice in your dress, but you looked gorgeous in that moment. Your fingers moved like they wanted to work a piano or a lock,” he was rubbing the place he had spanked you before, which made your skin burn. “And it was then that I knew I wanted to take you.”
The way in which he said the sentence made cold creep up your spine again. Shifting slightly, you attempted to turn so you could more clearly look at him, but a solid slap against your butt stopped you. “Not yet,” he commanded and you laid still. “I want to know: did you notice me that day?”
Had you? It was hard to remember. When something caught your attention that was all you focused on in those moments. A harder smack came down and the noise was much louder than the other ones. You grumbled out an ‘ouch’, pulling against your restraints.
“Well? Did you?”
The museum had been quiet, but there were several tourists and even some locals. Their clothing gave away which party they belonged to. Had anyone caught your attention specifically?
He spanked you again, just as hard as the last time.
You closed your eyes remembering the museum. Remembering who you looked at and who you had intentionally avoided.
With his next strike you cried, “Yes! I saw you.”
“Oh? Are you lying?”
“No,” you sighed, feeling the stinging continue. “I tried to avoid you when I came into the museum. You were looking at the statue outside of the Azian exhibit as I left.”
He kissed the cheek he had created a fire on. “I knew that you were a true thief,” he said with a light voice of praise.
You took a breath in through your nose and out your mouth in relief before Chrollo turned you on your back again. Your arms being pinned under you wasn’t the most comfortable, but you didn’t have time to think about it as he positioned himself between your legs and began tracing a path up your inner thigh with just the lightest touch of his fingers. “Did you know when you saw me then that this would happen?”
Everything in you wished you could lie and say you did, but it was too obvious of a lie. “I knew when I saw you today.” This caught his attention.
He looked you in the eyes as one finger traced your panty line. “Did you?”
“When you didn’t walk away after I replied to you,” it was a stretch of the truth, but a convenient one.
One finger found its way under your underwear and touched your slit. Now you were aware just how wet you were as he slid his finger up and down and you looked to the darkened ceiling with a soft gasp. “Did you think you’d end up just like this?”
You smiled. “Oh yeah. It is obvious you’re the kind of guy that likes to tie a girl up.” Roughly he shoved a finger into you and you gasped louder, thighs clamping around his body.
To his credit, now he shut up. Focusing just on moving his fingers in and out of you, curling them against your insides in a way that made you moan. It became obvious that he was intentionally not touching your clit, and that was maddening as the warm sensation of a building orgasm started to build inside of you. You managed to focus enough to twist your hands under your back, pulling at the suspenders and using their sight elasticity to work them around your wrists.
“Chrollo,” you breathed and he ‘hm’ed in response. “Stop teasing me.”
He thrust his fingers into you deeper, but you didn’t make a noise- even though you really wanted to. He frowned as each of your noises and tells slowly stopped coming as simply. You looked down at him with cold eyes, “I told you. Teasing me isn’t going to work forever.”
You pulled your hands out from under your back, holding the suspenders in one hand with a pleased grin that you had managed to slip out of them. Taking the suspenders into both hands you shifted yourself so you could lift your hips to gently rub his dick with your pussy, keeping the teasing grin on your face the entire time. “Did I surprise you… Boss?” Playfully you whipped his chest with the suspender strap. “You said yourself that I was a thief. Did you think your little trick would hold me long?”
“Interesting,” he muttered, leaning over you to intimidate you with his position. “I didn’t think you’d get free so quickly.”
It was a small praise, but you lapped it up. You slid the suspenders around the back of his neck and pulled him down to your level. “Tell me more about how impressive I am.”
“You’re more than bold. You’re outright audacious.” You started to laugh but he pressed his mouth to yours so that he could kiss you silent.
If asked, you would be forced to admit that Chrollo was good with his mouth in a few ways, and you wish you could have known if it was any good in more. As he kissed you with rough vigor he also took the opportunity of your distraction to swiftly slip inside of you. All at once you were flooded with feelings: his lips still pressing into yours, his dick sliding in and out of you, his hand digging into your hip as he helped lift you to his rhythm.
Chrollo reached out with his free hand and took the suspenders from you and discarded them, though you weren’t sure to where- you didn’t really care either. But with the object occupying your hands gone they started to wander for a place to belong. Naturally they ended up his hair, each finger breaking up that perfect slicked back look as you pulled his face from yours to breath in as his pace picked up and made you gasp.
You watched his hair become disheveled through hazy eyes. You had been right, he was much more attractive this way, and that only added to the pleasure.
He brought his hips up with an especially hard snap and you moaned loudly, forgetting for the moment that there were potentially other people around to hear you.
“God,” you muttered with a breathy voice and Chrollo laughed.
“He has nothing to do with this,” he replied. “Give credit where it is due.”
A small chuckle was cut off from your lips as he shoved his way into you particularly hard. On some level you were worried you would pull his hair too hard as your fingers tightened their grip on their own accord. Releasing his dark strands you gathered the blanket underneath you in two clenched fists, watching Chrollo’s face as he fucked you.
“Chrollo, don’t stop,” you moaned, “Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
His lips had parted again, one of his only tells so far of how much he was enjoying this. At one point he slowed, and his eyes closed before he picked up his pace and you felt washed over with sensation again. You were so close to an orgasm and his face said he was too.
You released the blanket to reach down and rub your clit, touching your finger against his dick as it came into you and you could feel him shudder as your nail brushed against him.
The build up within you gave out, like a dam. You clamped down on Chrollo as you orgasmed. Your hand let go of the blanket and gripped his forearm as a small cry came with the rush of pleasure. The extra pressure of you clamping onto him was enough to finish him off as well and you could hear his voice catch in his throat as he came.
Feeling satisfied and somewhat spent you turned your face into the bed, noticing only now that the sheet below you smelled somewhat clean. How far ahead had he planned all of this? Not that you would complain. Fucking on a clean bed was much better than what you had thought was happening at the start, not that it had stopped you obviously.
Chrollo brought a hand down your body one last time before standing, an air of fulfillment still hanging about him as well. You watched him move- wrapping yourself in the blanket for covering and warmth- as he redressed, keeping the tailcoat and cravat off.
“The water works,” he informed you as he ran his hands through his hair to fix it, which made you frown. You had done good work messing that up. “There are clothes in the bathroom for you.”
“You sure think of everything don’t you?” He tucked his shirt into his pants with a smirk.
Keeping the cover wrapped securely you sat up, drawing his attention. “Rest in here as long as you like. We’ll go over the plan tomorrow and move into position in the afternoon.”
“Yes, boss,” you teased.
“Don’t push it,” he warned, but it didn’t sound too serious. Something about your teasing smile must have brought a thought to his mind, because after fastening his top button he leaned over and gave you a chaste kiss. “I’ll see you later for briefing.”
It wasn’t just a casual throw away line. It was a statement of certainty. In a simple way he had just told you what he expected, and you wondered what he would do if you didn’t. If you slipped away into the night.
He left you alone and you fell back into the bed, cuddling up to the pillow. Happily you found it too smelled clean.
You didn’t intend to leave before the job was done though. No. You had pushed things this far, and now you had gotten a taste for Chrollo. It was easy to see he thought you capable, but something told you he still underestimated you.
The swirling ideas of a plan started to form in your mind as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
~*~*~
“This plan still doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Is that your intuition, Machi?”
“… yes.”
“Hm. We’ll tread carefully. We can still use her for the end of the plan. We just have to be careful with how we proceed up to that point. Pakunoda will be with her the entire time. I trust her, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Then we’ll continue on with our plan for now.”
“Fine.”
Across the hall the shower water turned on.
“Hope she is as good as you think she is, boss.”
~*~*~
Showered and changed into fresh, dark clothes you joined the other apartment once more. The door was clear of traps this time so it was a better start than before.
Two women were in the room: Machi sat in her same position on the couch and who you presumed was Pakunoda leaned against a wall that led to the kitchen. Chrollo sat on the kitchen counter, using the natural sunlight from the nearby window to read a book. All eyes but Chrollo’s flew to you as you entered the room.
The atmosphere was tense. This was why you liked working alone. Other people could cause such drama.
“Good morning to you too,” you said to the women as you stopped in the living room. Admittedly it was already afternoon. You had hid in the other apartment for a few hours, using the alone time to your advantage and avoiding this very meeting.
“Good morning,” Pakunoda said. You thought her voice was pleasant. Neither rude or overly pleasant. Just natural. Which wasn’t what you had expected
You waited for Chrollo to address the room, wishing he would put the book down and get to it already. You were itching to start, especially since your own original plan was to act last night, now you were already 16 hours off of your own plan.
With a resounding snap, he closed his book and looked up at you. His face was passively neutral and he had changed clothes at some point. No longer was he in the dress slacks and button up, but instead in black pants with white detail, and a black coat. It would look gaudy on most anyone else, but it suited Chrollo. The tattoo on his forehead was new though. It hadn’t been there last night at dinner and at the museum he had worn a headband. Maybe he had covered it with makeup to go out last night? Somehow you already felt it suited him just as much as his clothing did.
“We’ll talk on the way,” he stated standing up from the counter. In unison the two women stood and waited for Chrollo to lead the way.
They obviously worked together a lot.
As he left the apartment the women waited for you to go before them, and you managed not to sigh as you did so. If you were going to disappear you would have done it by now. It occurred to you that perhaps they were more worried about you attacking them. But for what reason?
The car from last night was still outside, and you wondered if they had at least moved it overnight so that no potential passerby would see it.
“First we will go back into the city. It is Friday, so as evening settles in downtown will be lively with foot traffic. We’ll blend in with the crowds and meet on the South side of the building at 9:30 pm,” Chrollo informed you all as he held the door open.
Without hesitation Machi and Pakunoda got in before you and Chrollo motioned for you to go in before himself. The other two women sat across the car from you and Machi reached up and tapped on the top of the car twice. Automatically the driver started the car and began driving back the long way to the city.
“At dusk we will enter through a door on the roof. Machi will be getting us through that door. Once inside you and Pakunoda will go to the first floor. She knows what objects to take from that floor. Machi and I will go the basement and meet you at the door to the East side of the building that lets out onto the street. At that time we will rejoin with the car. Any questions?”
“What time are we meeting at the East entrance?” you asked.
Chrollo looked at you next to him and smirked. “It should end up being around 11:00 pm. The weekend crowds will still be around to provide us cover as we rejoin the traffic on the street.”
This was a fast plan. But if the cases could be removed and objects taken quickly, you could definitely get the tea set within the guard’s rotation break. But what other items were on the list? Was Pakunoda fast at such work? She had to be if you were both to take the main floor.
“Okay,” you replied, though you weren’t feeling very informed or confident.
Machi and Pakunoda had nothing to ask, which wasn’t surprising. Surely they had known the plan and the finer details before now.
“Can you still take care of the cameras?” Chrollo asked you and you nodded. “Good. You will take point on the way into the museum and Pakunoda will provide directions as needed.” You noticed he didn’t ask how. Something told you he wanted to watch you do it instead of asking.
If you had thought the drive out of the city had been awkward, the drive back in was definitely worse. The car was quiet as the grave and the lack of slight flirtatious energy made it feel longer when compared to last night.
You distracted yourself by looking out the window, watching the scenery fly by that had just been so much darkness the last time you saw it. There were other buildings scattered around, it had to have been a suburb that had been mostly abandoned over time while people moved closer to the city. After a few miles the signs of people still living buildings could be seen. Lawn decorations, cars in the driveway, and toys left in yards.
What would life have been like for you if you hadn’t decided you wanted to be a miscreant? Would you have settled down in a small suburb and found a boring job to work five days a week?
This was too much introspection. How did the other three stand being in this situation? You felt like you would go crazy. You wished you had a cellphone for once. But they hadn’t been worth the hassle so far so you had never gotten one.
The memory of Chrollo’s shocked face when you had turned the tables on him last night came into your mind and you didn’t stop the cat like grin that appeared. You couldn’t wait to see it again.
It felt like an eternity, but finally the busy city traffic enclosed the car. Pedestrians filled the sidewalks as the dying light made the concrete glow orange. The small clutch purse you had taken with you to the restaurant was still in the car and you were glad for that because you had left it behind like an idiot last night. You could feel it against your ankle as the car took a turn towards the museum.
Fishing down for it you pulled it into your lap, seeing Machi watch your movements with curiosity. As if to reassure her, and maybe yourself, you pulled from the small bag a tool and waved it at her. It was your entry key into the museum displays. She looked away as if she didn’t care and you rolled your eyes replacing the item into your bag.
This was already a fun filled trip with friends, you could tell.
The car stopped on a side street and automatically Chrollo opened the door and motioned for you to join him. This time you didn’t have him help you, probably because of pride, and you got out on your own. The car drove away once the door was shut to drop the other too off a few blocks away to blend in with the crowd as was the plan.
Watching it go you couldn’t help but to wonder: who was the driver? How much did they know about this plan? It all seemed like a lot of variables to consider, but no one seemed bothered. Just another testament of how often they all worked together.
Refusing to walk behind Chrollo, you walked by his side and he looked at you from the corner of his eye for a brief moment. You didn’t particularly care what he thought about it, but you weren’t going to be forced to walk behind him like a puppy. He didn’t say anything as you turned a corner together and made your way through the crowded downtown streets.
No one really paid attention to you as you carefully side stepped anyone that was too distracted to not run into you themselves. That was the beauty of large cities, no one cared what you were doing as long as you didn’t bother them. Even if you were dressed for a night out at a club that you had no intentions of visiting.
Chrollo ducked into an alleyway, and you matched his pace and direction easily. Out of sight of the main street you did feel better, even if no one was paying attention before. Now you were unseen by most eyes.
Several twists and turns later the team arrived to the back of the building at last. The last lights of the day had disappeared over the horizon and the noise of night life rose in the form of music and voices from every nearby major street.
Machi and Pakunoda had been waiting, casually leaning against the back wall of the museum. Their forms were barely visible in the darkened alleyway but you already were familiar enough to know it was them at a distance.
Standing straight, Machi threw her barely visible threads to the rooftop and pulled them to test their grip. Methodically she handed one to Chrollo and you first. You wrapped the silky strand around your hand and Machi tugged the strings with a full body movement which sent you flying towards the roof.
The way she did it so seemingly easy was somewhat shocking. You gripped the roof edge and pulled yourself the rest of the way up, releasing her thread as you did so. “That’s pretty impressive,” you confessed, rubbing your hand from where the thread had bitten into it.
Chrollo had a smug look of pride when you looked at him, but he shrugged, nonchalant. “They are very good at what they do.”
“I guess that is why you’re willing to work with others,” you commented as Machi and Pakunoda pulled themselves onto the roof with grace.
“One of the reasons.”
Machi passed by you to the roof door, pulling a straight pin from the cushion on her left hand as she went.
The door popped open easily and without a word you all entered into the building. Now this was the part you had been excited for, the actual fun.
This was your number one favorite thing.
Once you reached the door for the first floor you motioned for the others to stand back. Being careful to move as slowly as possible, you opened the door the slightest crack and peeked out. The guard wasn’t on this side of the exhibits just yet, and you knew from your long walks that the stairwells weren’t alarmed as the guards used it to go between floors sometimes. It also saved on tech cost to keep the rest of the building on high alert comparatively.
With a deep breath you brought forth your nen into your right hand. Carefully you reached out and touched the outside wall. Emitting your nen across the wall you moved it based on a sensation you couldn’t quite describe. Electricity had a specific, familiar prickling sensation, and once you found it you could tap into it and follow it to your primary target: the cameras. Using the electrical signals, the cameras were manipulatable with your nen. They could flicker, freeze the last visual data they had received, or turn off. The more cameras, the more nen you’d have to use. There were only three in this first area. Easy enough.
“Let’s go,” you said confidently, opening the door and leading the way into the museum. Each camera flickered several times, so as to disguise that there was a sequence that hid you and your companions movements through their areas to the next dark zone.
They stuck to you as closely as they could, never asking a question or seeming to double check your work. It seemed they blindly trusted you, or they really did take Chrollo’s word. Either way there was no chance you were going to be left alone at any point.
Area by area you made your way to the stairs that would allow Chrollo and Machi access to the basement, Pakunoda giving you specific floor plan details along the way. Which was helpful for the places you hadn’t memorized since they hadn’t been integral to your own needs before. But her knowledge was so exact you were curious how she knew it all.
At the door to the stairs you managed to rest a little, only one camera pointed in this direction and freezing it alone was easy enough. Now you didn’t feel so silly for resting extra today since you were expending much more energy than you had intended.
“Nice work,” Chrollo complimented, both hands in his coat pocket. He seemed completely relaxed.
“How will you get to the East entrance?” you asked.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be there,” he said with a smirk. Behind him Machi opened the stairwell that led to the basement and Chrollo gave you a last look over his shoulder as he turned to leave, “Make sure you’re there as well.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you teased, hearing Pakunoda at your back shift.
The two of you continued your path to the section on unidentified artifacts. But first, Pakunoda directed you to the Azia exhibit and you realized that your leading target would probably be that area. It was frustrating, you’d prefer to get your tea set and shrug the woman off, but it was still too early. You wanted Chrollo and Machi to be deeply stuck in the basement first.
The patrol guard was just leaving the exhibit hall as you arrived. “Yeah they have been doing that all week. There is a special electrician coming to check it out,” he said into his walkie talkie as he passed by the alcove in which the two of you hid. Pakunoda looked at you upon hearing this and you merely smiled.
“I’ll go down there just to be sure as always though. I bet they’re just old. You gotta replace technology every six months these days you know? That’s what the kids all say." The guard continued rambling on about cameras and technology as he made way towards the part of the museum you had come from.
You shrugged at Pakunoda with false ignorance before turning into the exhibit hall.
Again you froze the camera in this hallway, it was easier than making it flicker forever. It took more energy but as long as you only had to do this a few times you’d still have plenty of power. “So you’re an emitter,” Pakunoda said as she stopped at a display case of masks and pointed.
“Guess so,” you replied, pulling your tool from your clutch bag. “I always thought being a manipulator would be easier, but you work with what you get.”
Easily you took each screw out of the case quickly and when you lifted the glass Pakunoda took the masks so you could quietly replace the glass. She wrapped them in cloth and placed them in a bag she had brought with her.
Three more displays of ancient artifacts were taken much the same way, each time you got faster with the strange screws and tool. You noticed Pakunoda’s bag was quite full already and too much more could leave too much room for weight error.
“Let’s move on,” she said and you nodded with relief.
The unidentified artifacts exhibit was small. Only one camera inside, part of the draw for you personally.
But this time as you took the last screw out you pointed to Pakunoda to lift the glass. She looked at you with distrust but you remained firm. “This is the one thing I have to grab with my own hands. Chrollo promised me that right.”
He hadn’t, but maybe she’d fall for that lie anyway.
With a soft sigh she lifted the glass and you could feel your fingers start to tingle with excitement. You pulled from your clutch a folded up object and with a flick of the wrist it folded out into a container. Pakunoda’s eyes widened with surprise as you gently lifted the tea set from its current home into the container. With practiced speed, you folded up the top after dropping all of the soft foam that had taken up the rest of the clutch bag. It would help cushion the tea set so that it would clatter around in the box.
“Thanks,” you told her with a smile. Slowly she started to set the glass down and you backed away silently, dropping your nen from the nearby camera.
“Let’s go,” she said and you nodded innocently.
“Which way? I don’t know the way to the door on the East. I always came in and out from the North.”
She pointed and you nodded turning, resuming your camera manipulations with your nen. She followed too closely for you to try and bring the cameras back up to catch only her, but that didn’t matter. You had gotten her once.
You checked the clock on the wall as you passed by. 10:20 pm. It hadn’t taken you as long as you had thought it would. Maybe you had thought that because you expected that Chrollo had more targets on the first floor. But if they had guessed 11 there was a reason. He and Machi would still be busy in the basement.
The container in your hand was heavy, but you felt so light carrying it. Actually you felt positively giddy. You got what you wanted and in just a few moments you’d be free of your babysitter.
The door to the East exit was just ahead but Pakunoda grabbed you and pulled you to the side behind a large sign that was boasting about a new exhibit. “This should be a camera blind spot. We’ll wait here until Chrollo returns.”
All too happy to drop your nen you nodded. If you had to, you could keep it up for longer, but you were admittedly getting a bit tired and the night wasn’t over yet.
You could hear footsteps running down the tile floor in your direction and managed not to smile. Chrollo and Machi would be too smart to make so much noise, it had to be the guard.
He stopped at the end of the hall and you peeked out from your hiding spot to see him raise his gun. “I know you’re back there. Come out or I will be forced to fire!”
Pakunoda looked at you pointedly and you stared back at her with confusion. “Maybe he saw the cases empty?” you asked shifting more behind the signage.
She frowned and gripped the arm that held the tea set, looking into your eyes with a gaze that could kill. “Then how does he know which exit we are at?”
“It is his job,” you snapped. “How should I know?”
But Pakunoda’s hand on your arm was crushing. The muscles under her grip screamed and your free hand flew to hers to pull back her thumb and force her to relieve some of the pressure. “Let go, you’re hurting me,” you snarled as the emotionless face continued to stare at you.
“You brought the camera back up on me,” she said plainly. “Why?”
A sliver of panic stabbed into your heart. There was no way she should know that. “Never trust a thief,” you told her simply as the guard down the hallway yelled again. “I knew you were going to ditch me. I heard them talking about it earlier.”
She nodded, “I can see that. But maybe you’re jumping to conclusions? You don’t know what was what was going to happen.”
A bullet hit the wall to the side of the two of you, it was just a warning shot. “Never take unnecessary chances. Besides I know the wine, dine, and leave behind trick.” Chrollo had been very charming, there were times in the game that you had slipped and enjoyed yourself a bit too much. But you knew it was all business.
Loud clattering rang against the museum walls, the second floor guard had arrived as back-up. There were at least two more within the building. Time was running out.
“It’s too bad. You had some potential,” Pakunoda said as she shoved you harshly into the hallway.
You bit back a curse, catching yourself before you completely lost footing and fell to the ground. “Put your hands up!” one guard cried.
Pakunoda watched you from behind the sign, her gun raised at you as well. She was aiming purposefully low, intending to wound you so you couldn’t run and would be caught. “You’re right, it is too bad, Paku,” you muttered quietly enough the guards wouldn’t hear a thing. “We could have been friends under different circumstances. Maybe.”
She didn’t react to you, merely watched with a quiet coldness as you slowly knelt and put the box on the ground while the guards barked orders at you and into their walkie talkies. As you slowly lifted your hands over your head, you could see her pull her phone out of her pocket from the corner of your eye. She was telling Machi and Chrollo what had happened, now time was even more limited.
But it was the perfect opportunity. Her attention was split between aiming at you and using her phone, so you dropped low, swinging your leg out to knock over the exhibit sign that she was still taking refuge behind.
Making a quick decision she dropped the phone, gripped her gun with both hands and fired. A bullet from the front whizzed by you when you had dropped down, but you had always been focused on Pakunoda’s gun. She was closer, so she was a bigger threat.
With seconds to spare you angled your supporting foot to launch you away from her target area and then back at her, successfully dodging her shot. Her reaction time was fast and the gun swung around to point at you again and you muttered a mental prayer to whoever would take it that you could be just a little faster as you knocked the hand with the gun away. Someone must have been listening, because the shot missed and you landed on Pakunoda with your entire weight.
There was no time to revel in your victory, using all of your strength you pushed her out into the center of the floor, keeping your feet under you as did so. With one hard push you lept to your box and snatched it up before dashing to the door.
Down the hall, the guards couldn’t clearly see what was happening as the two of you were silhouetted by the lights outside of the exit and it was the only source of light they had to operate off of. This made them slow to react as one shot at you and the other raced down the hallway towards Pakunoda who scrambled for her gun and fired. But you didn’t have time to look back and see what was going on past that. Only the sound of a body hitting the ground gave away any clue.
For fire safety the doors could be pushed open from inside even when locked, so escaping out onto the street was easy.
Your heart was pounding so hard that you had to fight the natural urge to gasp for air as you quickly hustled down the stairs and into the crowd that filled the street on a busy weekend night. It took a second to compose yourself enough to look up and pose yourself to appear natural so as to blend into the people who hadn’t just been shot at several times.
Moments after the door to the museum opened and an angry Pakunoda emerged into the night air. Without a doubt you were sure that both guards were dead, but had she recovered the cell phone in time to also follow you?
Time was actually up now.
You didn’t turn to look at her as you weaved your way through the crowd and turned a corner.
Once out of her line of sight you ducked into the busy bar immediately down the street. The bodies packed inside were unforgiving but you managed to slip around them easily with a practiced dance that required you to twist and turn your body, keeping your prize close to your chest.
It was too dangerous to look around for your tail, because that would make you too obvious, but you hoped she hadn’t seen you as you ducked low enough in the crowd so that you couldn’t be seen. Using the cover of other bodies as a camouflage as you snuck around to the door that lead to the back room. The bartenders had been so busy with orders they didn’t notice you push your way into the kitchen.
The pair preparing simple bar food and closing up for the night didn’t seem to particularly care when you entered the kitchen and immediately went out the back door to the alleyway where everything had started. You couldn’t blame them, it was a busy weekend night and surely they were exhausted.
It was a simple turn around, but you didn’t see any sign of Pakunoda as you reemerged onto the street and hailed a taxi. Not a second could be wasted or stalled so you slipped into the back of the cab without a second cursory look around. As you sank into the seat you could hear the noise of sirens in the distance already coming your way. They sure worked quick in this city.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
You looked closely at him to make sure that he didn’t seem familiar before responding, “Train station.”
The taxi slid away from the sidewalk and into the busy traffic. By the time you hit the first stop light down the street the telling blue and red of the police were already surrounding the museum and you decided to chance a glance, turning to see if you would catch a glimpse of any more action.
“Woah. That is sudden isn’t it?” the driver commented as he looked back in his mirror.
“Yeah. I wonder what happened. I hope it isn’t a fire,” you said with a morose tone.
“Oh that would be awful. I’ve been to that museum a lot. There are a lot of really pretty pieces in there."
“I had hoped to go but I didn’t have time. I was visiting my grandmother for a few days. I did find a nice gift for my husband down town though,” you said lifting the box for him to see. “He loves sweets so I got him a cake from that bakery down the street.”
“Oh! Simple Sweets? I love that place!” The car started to move as police rushed into the museum. “Did you try their pastries? They are so flaky you’ll never want any other pastries in the world.”
You smiled as the driver prattled on for the rest of the drive, caressing the top of your prize like a cat as you barely listened and made the appropriate “oh” and “really?” replies.
Admittedly you’d miss the dress you had left behind. But sacrifices had to be made for good product you decided as you tipped the driver from the clutch bag you had managed to keep track of the entire time. “Thanks for the ride and suggestions! I’ll be sure to try it all next time I visit!”
The driver chuckled and waved goodbye as he got out to help a woman load her bag into the trunk.
Even though you had just been in a pleasant car ride, your heart was still beating heavy in your chest as you bought a ticket and navigated your way through the station toward your platform. With how well trained Chrollo’s team was you knew you’d have to get off early and fly to the next city where you would try to lay low for a bit. There would be a bit of extra footwork this time, but at least the cops wouldn’t be looking for you when they had other perfectly viable suspects.
You bought a ticket for the next train leaving so as soon as you stepped on the platform you were able to board. The entire time the phantom sensation of a weight on your back made your shoulders tense as you navigated the train car to a seat closest to the aisle and away from the large window. The train was pretty empty, both a blessing and a curse. But it gave you a chance to be familiar with everyone that entered and took seats. No one seemed particularly suspicious.
Outside the whistle blew and you sighed hoping that there had been too little time for anyone to make their way here from the museum, what with all the cops and traffic.
Your right side felt icy cold as the train doors slid shut. It was too tempting to ignore, so slowly your eyes slid from the seat in front of you, across the aisle, and out the opposite window.
Standing with his hands casually in his pockets amongst the crowd you could see Chrollo looking right at you. His face seemed passive, neither angry or unconcerned as the train started to move away from the platform. Machi and Pakunoda weren’t in sight, so they were either still busy, or on the train.
But spite that concern you stood and went to the window to watch Chrollo’s dark form slip away, offering a smile and a wave goodbye as the train picked up speed. Before long, even his black silhouette was too far away to make out from the rest of the human forms that waited for their train.
