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The Yul National Treasury was one of the most renowned institutions the world had ever seen, reopening as the new pride and joy of the nation of Yul. It was a small province populated by lush rainforests and illegal weapons manufacturing that had just come into some serious money after its two neighboring countries had gone to war, profiting off both sides.
Its ruler, Markus Ano, was absolutely drunk on the power that had evaded him all his life, wasting away his royalties on lavish parties to flaunt the wealth he’d accumulated. Tonight would be the biggest one yet, as the country’s fearless leader had just coerced the king of a small nation east of Yul to expand Ano’s borders into their own and he planned to celebrate accordingly. But, unlike his other galas, it wasn’t being held at his mansion. It was being held at the treasury.
You almost hadn’t believed Chrollo when he told you. Why would the supreme leader host a party there, where priceless artifacts and deeds of cash flow would be so ripe for the taking?
“It’s a brazen act of confidence,” Your boss had explained, “A flimsy attempt at making himself seem credible to the other world leaders. He’s daring any mercenary groups around to try and crash the party.”
Shalnark’s eyebrows furrowed, his expression clear from the glow on his phone screen in the decrepit building, “Why would Ano want that? I mean, if anything goes wrong it would fall on him, right?”
“He must think himself strong enough to gloat after tasting what he’s made off the warring countries to the south. If his military can fend off any would-be attackers he believes it will increase his social standing with the other government officials.”
Looking around the room, your eyes flicked quickly among each of the other three silhouettes that had gathered tonight under Chrollo’s summons. Your boss had called the Troupe’s recon members to Yul, the expressions of Machi, Paku, and Shalnark respectively all appearing as curious as you. From the battle plans being laid out in the abandoned hotel it seemed like you would’ve benefited from the arrival of Feitan or Franklin. After all, their powers were built for cutting down the lines of over-funded, inexperienced soldiers the Troupe encountered so often. If there was to be a fight, where were our heavy-hitters?
Your boss, insightful as ever, must’ve read the unasked question off the four of your faces, “We won’t be getting in there by force. If we try to barge our way in we’ll kill them all, easily, but they’ll have relocated the goods far before we reach them. Our only option is to infiltrate the gala and reach it without drawing attention, at least, at first. Once we have what we need you won’t have to worry about covering your tracks if you wish,” Chrollo held up four envelopes to the moonlight, each sealed in a garish purple wax, “Shalnark will provide support from here and the rest of us will pose as guests.”
His gaze focused on the blonde manipulator, “Can you access the hunter website to find out who the captains of the security team are?”
“Consider it done.”
“Excellent. Pakunoda will track down the captain and learn where they’re keeping our target. It’s either stored in one of the safes below the ballroom or somewhere else in the building.”
He called back the attention of the two women in the back of the room, “Machi, Paku, you will both arrive together. You’ll restrain the guard and figure out where they’re keeping the merchandise, understood?” Neither woman said anything, giving him a curt nod instead.
You’re sure if the others knew just how nerve-wracking you found something as simple as calling attention to yourself the teasing might never end. Phinks in particular would be sure to give you a hard time about it. After all, you had been a member of the Phantom Troupe for years, seeing far more than your share of fights and killing an ever-growing list of nameless people who’d gotten in your way. It was ridiculous to feel so nervous at the mundane act of clearing your throat, willing your voice not to break as you picked up your shambling confidence to find the guts to speak get yourself to speak, “Um.. boss?” Keeping a level gaze with Chrollo when his wide, dark eyes locked onto yours was more than a challenge, briefly forgetting what exactly you’d meant to ask, “Wh..what are we stealing?”
He smiled, and your treacherous heart skipped a scattered beat.
“The last physical copy of a greek play written by Homer himself. The Illiad. Some collectors would pay billions for a just a chance at reading it. Most of what Ano’s collected isn’t worth taking, but this... it’s by far the most priceless artifact in the archives.” Everything started to click into place and you had to fight off a grin at the mention of your boss’ favorite thing to steal. Old books.
You nodded, bowing a bit further than necessary in an attempt to avoid his stare, “Understood.”
“Oh, and one other thing.” The sound of Chrollo saying your name was something you never heard often enough, the rarity only making it sweeter on your ears.
“Yes, sir?”
“You’ll be posing as my date for the gala. You and I will retrieve the play by ourselves.” You’re sure that if your body hadn’t turned to stone from the shock of his instructions then you’re sure the panic would’ve been much more evident on your face.
It was immature to say you had a crush on your boss. It sounded far too cliché for someone in your line of work, but after a few years of suffering in bitter silence you couldn’t deny the truth to yourself any longer. Ever since you joined four years ago you couldn’t help but find him fascinating, and just a tiny bit attractive. There were times when he’d assembled his limbs together on the eve of some heist and you’d have to ask Shalnark to fill you in on the specifics of the plan because you were too lost in the lull of his voice to pay much attention to whatever Chrollo was actually saying. But despite everything you were loyal to the Troupe first and foremost, you couldn’t let yourself get caught up in your emotions like some kind of schoolgirl.
Heart racketing against your chest, you found the nerve to speak, “Understood, sir.”
Early on in your unrequited affections, when the ink of your designated tattoo still felt wet on your skin, you’d shake your head at times like these to clear yourself of any thoughts that wandered too far astray, but after four years of dutifully followed orders and sidelong glances you’d learned to stomach the emotion in your chest so it never saw the light of day. But when your boss told you that he would be acting as your date as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world you felt every repressed thought on how strong, how deftly intelligent and beautiful Chrollo was rush back to the surface as if they’d never truly gone, and you know deep down they never did.
“Alright, we’ll leave for the party tomorrow after sunset. Meet me back here well before then so we can go over the details.”
The four of you all turned to leave, but the sound of Chrollo saying your name froze you again, mid-step, “Would you stay a bit longer? I need to discuss your part in the plan tomorrow now, if you don’t mind.” Although he asked you’re sure he only did it as a courtesy, both of you knowing that his word was no less than law in the Troupe; the only one any of you had ever willingly followed.
Mutely, you nodded, and once the other three spiders had left the abandoned building you both stood in felt much smaller. A wisp of a smile fell over his face as he turned away from you to walk over to the hotel closet, the paneling chipped off from years of neglect. With a slightly dramatic flourish he drew back the door, watching the way your eyes widened.
A slim, black dress hung on a satin hook, layered with some kind of velvet lace at the ends that would trail to your thighs. You looked from the dress to Chrollo then back again, stuttering out a quick, “Thank.. you? Sir, I—“
“You don’t have to call me that, you know.”
You stayed silent, head a bit tilted in confusion, “Call you what?”
He nimbly took the dress from its hook, his approach towards you slow, the floorboards underneath him creaking with each hesitant step, “For this mission I’d be best if you called me Chrollo.”
The blush that wracked your cheeks was so prominent it was hard for Chrollo to not pity your embarrassment as you tried to string the syllables of his name together.
His fingers deftly grazed your shoulder as he held up the straps to your collarbone, humming in approval once he saw he’d matched your right size with what he bought, eyes and touch wandering over your skin a bit too long before pulling away, leaving the dress clutched in your hands.
Unwittingly, your eyes flickered towards his lips, briefly indulging in your budding weakness before looking away and stepping a few feet back, the distance between you far too close for comfort.
“Thank you, bo— Chrollo,” You corrected, staring intently at the moldy chipping of the loose floorboards beneath you; anything but your soft-spoken leader with puppy dog eyes and nothing but respect for you and the others. Anything but him. “I should.. should get going now,” Your grip on his present was tight as you sped past in a rush, the hurry in your steps not lost on him as you fled, a smirk you couldn’t see lacing his face as you scurried away.
The Yul National Treasury was three stories high, five if you counted the two floors of hidden safes tucked into the earth below. You’d seen places that had taken your breath away as you travelled with the spiders, your recon skills making you more suited to this kind of espionage, but the luxury never failed to catch you off guard compared to the conditions you were used to.
This one might leave them all behind. The walls were a peachy stone all lined with silver plating and gilded archways. Balconies were filled with smiling socialites spilling their champagne as they laughed. The entryway was illuminated by hanging lights that draped from window to window, all along the branches and archways. The lights even strung around the armed guard towers clearly manned with machine guns, illuminating the polished weaponry for all to see.
‘You can do this, It’s just a mission,’ You drilled that thought into your head as you toyed with the ends of the pitch fabric.
You had arrived at the venue with Paku, the two of you going your separate ways as she reconvened with Machi, leaving you at the entrance to the party to wait for your boss.
Whenever he himself participated in a mission he sometimes arrived fashionably late, so you weren’t all that concerned. The night was peaceful, a waning moon barely illuminating the dark foliage that surrounded the pathway towards the party and it was easy to get distracted in the lull of the evening.
“You look beautiful,” The voice made your head shoot up, looking to see Chrollo, a soft smile on his face and arm outstretched towards you.
Your mother tongue felt like a second language for a few moments, your mouth lost for words at the sight of Chrollo standing there in the artificial lights of Ano’s garden. You knew from past experience that your boss tried his best to appear as unassuming as possible whenever a situation arose in which he joined the fray himself. A simple black suit unremarkable in any way, a far cry from the lacy number he’d picked out for you, and a small part of you wondered if the dress he’d given you was simple another cog in the well-oiled machine of Chrollo’s plans. After all, if the socialites and guards alike had their eyes drawn to you it would be far less likely for anyone to recognize him among the crowd, even with a bandage wrapped tightly around the incriminating tattoo sitting snug beneath his bangs. The idea brought a foreign pain to your chest and you tried your hardest to keep yourself from the thought; that whatever brief moment of intimacy you shared last night wasn’t anything of the sort. Your leader had given you a dress and a cover story for the mission. That was all it was.
And yet you still found yourself trying to stem those flooding rationalizations, trying to just enjoy the night while it lasted. After all, if your left brain was to be believed, there wouldn’t be another chance like this to indulge your childish crush for years to come. If there was one thing you’d learned over your history with the spiders, it was to hide your emotions. Locking one hand around his, you clawed your fingernails into the other, desperately hoping the pain would distract from the pounding of your chest.
“You too.”
The walk to the front door felt longer that it was, your doubts eating away at every inch of your nerves, each step somehow felt inadequate to your self-sabotaging brain.
Before you could follow that rabbit hole any longer you had arrived, the opened doors to the gala manned by about thirty guards, all using normal guns as far as you could tell. Once Chrollo handed one of the soldiers he stepped back, giving his man the go-ahead to let you both through.
If the outside was impressive the interior was even more so, with curved marble staircases leading away from the main ballroom and those same strings of light connecting to the ceiling like webs. The other attendants had clearly dressed to impress, with pearls and expensive silk all bleeding from their gowns and suits. Ironically enough, although both you and Chrollo had worn relatively simple black numbers for the event, the two of you had stolen enough wealth over the years to buy whatever these aristocrats were wearing twenty times over, but none of them suspected a thing.
The silence between the two of you was deafening, especially under the chattering voices of the crowd, only broken when your boss nodded towards your 3 o'clock, “There.”
In the far back of the room was a man wearing a golden coat adorned with countless medals and pins that you suspect he hadn’t actually won, his arms slung around two girls who were both clearly feigning interest in whatever the man had to say.
You recognized him from the debriefing immediately to be Markus Ano, the supreme leader of Yul.
“Go.” Chrollo whispered that last part into your ear, a shiver going down your spine.
Once you were away from your crush it was far easier to keep a clear head, taking a few deep breaths and fully summoning your nen as you strode towards your target.
When you joined the Troupe all those years ago Phinks had joked how your abilities were, in his words, “A man’s worst nightmare.” As soon as you entered the building your En had begun to slowly spread throughout the entire room. In simple terms, once your En had filled a room you could activate your ability on anyone, simple eye contact being all it takes to make them ever-more perceptible to your will. The caveat being that if they looked away from you, your influence over them would slowly fade away.
‘Its affects should be strong enough by now,’ You decided, the distance between you and the leader’s not-so-secret bodyguards disguised as nearby guests growing smaller by the second.
“Hold it,” One of his guards stopped you, his grip tight on your upper arm before slacking as you gave him a doe-eyed look.
“Please sir, I’d really just love to meet the Supreme leader... if it’s alright?” It was admittedly funny how fast the guard nodded, Ano’s entourage parting like the red sea while the weak-minded guard guided you delicate to his boss’ side.
Markus Ano was watching the two of you from his gilded couch ever since you emerged from the crowd, the faintest hints of worry on his face, some voice at the back of his head telling him to not look you in the eyes, but his interest was far too piqued as he glowered over your body, gesturing you forward with a wave of his hand, “Hello there, my dear.. and who might you be?”
You gave him the most polite bow you could, going as far as to tuck one foot over the other in a kind of mock curtsy, the custom common in Yul, intentionally leaving him unabashedly staring at your chest; the gross sensation it inspired in your gut all too familiar by now after the various occasions you’d pulled this same trick on men of his similar disposition. You’re not even sure he heard your fake name when you told him.
Locking your gaze onto his, he was done for, going so far as to shove the two girls off of him, though they didn’t seem unhappy at having an excuse to leave.
“I’m new in Yul, sir, It’s an honor to meet you, I’ve heard so many stories...” The flattery worked like a charm, Ano patting the now empty spot beside him with a glassy sheen to his rather pretty green eyes. You were sure not to break a moment of eye contact even as you sat down.
“Tell me, who are you with?” He obviously didn’t recognize you among the crowd of his aristocratic friends.
You gave him a forlorn sigh, nodding your head towards another corner of the room, twirling and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “You may know my date, sir, the minister of Targon? Unfortunately he’s gone off somewhere to discuss some business or other, leaving me all alone...”
“What an idiot he was, then, for leaving a lady like you,” You’d decided your nen had been in effect long enough for you to drop the charade if the lovestruck glaze in his crinkled eyes was anything to go by, merely leaning forward to salaciously whisper your suggestions into his ear to keep up appearances for anyone watching.
“Send your main forces to the west back gate, there’s been a disturbance that needs them immediately. But be a dear and ask for the captain of the guard to meet you by the second left exit, alright?”
“But... what about—“ He must’ve had at least a little mental fortitude to achieve his position, enough to repel your abilities for about three seconds. Not bad for someone who didn’t know about the nen flowing dormant beneath their fingertips.
You slid you hand to his cheek, tilting him closer to look at you until you had to fight off revulsion at the feeling of the rank sweat of his breath on your skin, the breathing in his chest growing more ragged by the second.
As you blew a soft kiss towards Ano it was apparently his breaking point, ripping out his phone and quickly calling up the captain. While your new lapdog was busy barking out orders into the phone’s reviever you shrugged off his side, pretending to spot someone among the unfamiliar crowd.
“Oh, there’s my date now! It’s truly been a pleasure, Mr. Ano, thank you for keeping me company.” you gave him a quick bow and left the couch in a hurry. He was about to call out for you to wait, only to remember he had completely forgotten your name. By the time he’d fallen from your trance both you and the memories of your compulsion were long gone, one face among many.
Your part had gone off without a hitch, Pakunoda and Machi should be restraining the guard captain any second now. All that was left is for him to spill where the greek play was being kept and it would be up to you and Chrollo to retrieve it.
“Quite a show,” Speak of the devil.
Chrollo took his place in step behind you, a strange energy to him that wasn’t there before, ust as you were growing comfortable around him,“Any word from Shal?” You asked.
He shook his head, discreetly checking his earpiece to be sure the device was still on, “Not yet.”
“Well, what should we do in the meantime?” You were only half curious, expecting a simple command to stand by like usual.
Instead he outstretched his hand, the steel of his eyes softer than you’d ever seen before, “Dance with me.”
You blinked, waiting for the punchline, only to be met with silence and an open invitation to the main floor.
“But you...” It was nearly impossible to find the right words with him, each question sounding wrong, “why?”
The corners of his lips tilted into a smile, heat blooming from your chest at the rare, honest sight, “Why not?”
You didn’t trust your voice not to crack so you kept quiet as you slowly took his hand. There was something in the way he carried himself that made your lingering doubts fall away, his confidence infectious as he effortlessly lead you to the floor and let his hand fall to your waist.
“Chrollo, I don’t.. I’m not good at dancing.” Especially not whatever classical number the other guests were a part of.
He chuckled, pulling your hand onto his shoulder, “I’ll teach you,” you gripped the dark fabric of his blazer as a way to steady yourself, the violins escalating over the course of the concerto, “It’s only four steps, just follow my lead.”
He was patient with you, carefully guiding you into a steady pattern, your steps miraculously falling into sync with his. You couldn’t’ve helped the shaky laugh that bubbled from your chest as you slowly got the hang of it, and the proud look on Chrollo’s face just made it more unreal.
It was as if everything else began to melt away like candle wax, the judging socialites, the mission, and even your dedication to keeping your infatuation with Chrollo under wraps. Dancing with him was almost as easy as breathing.
Looking up from between the two of you and moving without his steps for guidance was as much of a reward as it was a mistake. Seeing the look on his face almost made you trip, saving yourself at the last minute from falling backwards. If he noticed your stumble he was kind enough not to mention it. Chrollo was looking at you like you were the only person in the room, his eyes alight and hiding a million things he wouldn’t say just yet. You were too far gone to even try to hide the blush dusting across your face.
It was over all too soon, the gleam in his eyes suddenly focusing into the hardened iron you were used to.
“What is it?” He didn’t answer you right away, guiding the two of you off the dance floor until you began to make your way through the crowd.
“Machi and Paku dealt with the guard, there’s been a change of plans.”
That was never good. “What happened?”
“The Illiad isn’t being kept in any of the vaults. It’s in the Markus Ano’s private study on the fifth floor.” His voice was hushed, a tone only you could hear as he tugged you close to his side, the gravity of the situation all that kept you from focusing too much on that detail.
You cursed, hoping the order Ano sent out on your behalf was enough to get most of the security out of the building so the two of you could get to the study undetected, “Does Shalnark have the upper floor plans or access to the cameras?”
Chrollo repeated your question into his hidden transceiver and nodded back to you after a moment, “He says there’s an unguarded stairway in the east hallway.”
Grinning, you gestured forward, “Lead the way, boss.”
The corridors were thankfully empty as you followed his lead, checking each stairway before heeding whatever directions Shal was feeding into your date’s ear. After walking down a seemingly ordinary hallway on the fifth floor it was hard not to notice the two guards still stationed in front of what you assumed must be the private study. The sound of a pen clicking under Chrollo’s thumb was all it took to tell you to fall back. He’d take them himself.
One of them slapped the other’s shoulder as the two of you approached, barking out some question as they raised their rifles, taking aim when neither of you wasted a response. You made no move to block or dodge, knowing just how capable the head of the spiders could really be.
Before either of them could pull the trigger Chrollo was at their sides, the ballpoint of his pen snug in the left guard’s jugular, simply cracking the other’s neck to avoid a trail of blood. The right one crumbled to the floor and where he once stood your date held out his palm, the worn pages of Bandit’s Secret appearing between his fingertips.
“I’ll summon the Indoor Fish to take care of the bodies. You should look for the book while they work.” You nodded, slipping inside and being sure to shut the door behind you, not wanting to be seen as fair game to conjured carnivores.
Ano’s study was filled with treasures, some framed and some propped on pedestals but all interesting in their own right. Foreign riches stolen or bought lined the shelves like an auction hall catalogue, but none of them resembled what Chrollo was after.
That was, until you noticed what sat open on Markus’ desk.
The pages themselves were frail and peach-toned from age but the bindings themselves were a polished gold, restored by some professional under Ano’s patronage until the golden lettering stood out even in the dim husk of the study.
Curiously, you looked at the page your host had left open, the scene of war and bloodshed depicted in the texts so captivating you barely noticed the sound of the door opening and your date stepping through, Bandit’s Secret nowhere to be seen.
You held up the book for him, smiling once you saw the childlike gleam in Chrollo’s eyes that always shined once he made another conquest, some begotten treasure that he’d cherish for a while before selling it off on the black market. He was like a kid asking for his toy back as he reached to take it from you.
He held the book with a reverence, fingers skimming over the polished gold title, “Remarkable...” He muttered.
You couldn’t help but smile unsteadily, the dance from earlier that night replaying at the forefront of your mind as you asked, “Chrollo?”
“Hm?”
“Would you... I mean—” It was an awful feeling whenever you stuttered around your boss. He was always so brilliantly concise, each word perfectly in place; so whenever you were unfortunate enough to trip over your words it made you feel like your faults stood out all the more.
You looked down at your shoes, “I can’t exactly read this language. So would- I mean if you’re not busy...”
He looked up from the play, never seeming to run out of patience with your nervous disposition, whispering your name in a quiet hush, “What is it?”
Closing your eyes, you forced the sentence out of your throat, “Would you read it to me sometime? The.. play?”
He blinked, briefly silent as he took in your words, and from that you assumed the worst, frantically trying to play off your request with a wave of your hands, “Not- no, sorry, boss— that was weird, I just—“
“—It’s alright,” His voice was so quiet, just barely loud enough for you to hear, “I’d be happy to.”
“Are you sure?” You could barely believe your own ears. Chrollo had seemed so unapproachable when you first joined the Troupe, his power in an entire league of its own. It would’ve been easier to compare him to one of the demigods written of in the book he held than to you. Saying you admired him would be putting it lightly. And yet he still gave you the time of day.
Your laugh was as shaky as your heartbeat, half in disbelief and half from joy, having trouble comprehending the warmth that spread down your fingertips and up your neck, dousing your cheeks red. His eyes never left yours, completely enraptured with the effect he had on you.
Your moment together was short-lived as the both of you seized up at the very noticeable sound of loud footsteps from down the hall. The footsteps were in sync, marching towards the room you took refuge in.
‘How did they find out we were here?’ You didn’t have time to speak, thoughts interrupted by the feeling of Chrollo’s hand gripping your wrist, yanking you with him towards the back of the study. He scanned the room quickly before zeroing in on what must’ve been a storage closet, doors revealing a small room stacked with cleaning supplies.
He pulled you inside with a sharp tug, the darkness of the closet overtaking you as he locked it shut behind, suddenly very able to hear even the minutia of his breathing in such close quarters. Luckily you didn’t have to focus on it for long as what sounded like a small squadron of guards entered the study.
“Sir, we insist you stay here until the intruders are dealt with,” Even in darkness the two of you locked eyes after hearing that. Had Paku or Machi been captured? Unlikely, but what else could they mean? “They’re still putting up some resistance at the west gate, it’s not safe yet.”
You recognized the voice that responded, “Come now, It’s my own party! I won’t let a few terrorists ruin my good mood.”
None of the security detail made their way to the back of the study, becoming abundantly clear that whatever they were here for, they weren’t looking for you. The connection between the diversion you’d made up and the events transpiring began to click together in your brain.
“Please, Sir, just stay here for another twenty minutes or so. They clearly weren’t prepared for our assault, we should have them taken care of within the hour.” It was almost too hilarious to be true. Had another mercenary company other than the Phantom Troupe descended on Markus’ gala? Chrollo had said he was taunting the entire criminal underground with the event after all, but you had no idea they were going to come from the west gate, it had just been the first direction you thought of.
You scoffed as quietly as you could and it was almost as if Chrollo could see you smile even in the pitch black. “What a coincidence,” You murmured, careful not to speak too loud, “I can’t believe I guessed that right.”
“I should learn to trust your instincts more often then.” He joked, his voice beguiling hush of its former self, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. Your mouth opened and closed but nothing managed to escape, his overwhelming presence in the crowded room growing more apparent by the second.
“What’s wrong?” You weren’t able to answer him for a few seconds, wracking your brain for an answer that wasn’t ‘I want to know what kissing you feels like.’
“N-othin’ boss...” Even you weren’t convinced by that one. He hummed and eventually your eyes began to adjust to the darkness until you were able to distinguish the dark of his hair to the black shadows of the far too tiny room. The two of you were as close as you had been when he danced with you what felt like hours ago, noticing how his wide eyes never left yours.
“I thought I told you to call me by my name?” He asked incredulously, a smug smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. For the briefest moment you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flick over to your lips, but you quickly tried to brush it off as a trick of the lighting.
You blinked, “But that’s just for the mission, right?”
“Darling,” It was surprising he didn’t notice the almost deafening sound of your heartbeat echoing through the confines of your chest, “from now on...”
As he took a step closer you couldn’t move, your legs weak beneath you as he pressed against your trembling frame, one arm keeping you caged against the wall and reveling in the squeak it drew out of you.
“When we’re alone?” His lips hovering his lips over your ear as he breathed the words against your temple, “I want you to call me Chrollo.”
In retrospect, you weren’t thinking clearly before you kissed him. It was like a compulsion, your conscience having no say over your fingers as you pulled him to your lips by the lapels of his suit. Despite all your screaming nerves and lingering doubts you somehow felt that if you didn’t do this now he could slip through your fingers and you might never catch him again. It was only for the briefest moment, but the desperation with which you kissed him with was rivaled only in the strength of your grip as you wrenched yourself off him almost as soon as you connected, the realization of what you’d done crashing down on you all at once.
For all the years you’ve known your leader this was the first time you’d seen him stunned into silence, your impulsive confidence starting to backfire on your own brain.
You hastily shoved yourself away from him, shame pooling in your gut as you scrambled to apologize, “Chrollo, I’m- Fuck, I’m so sorry I wasn’t thinki—“
You didn’t have time to regret your actions before he was cutting you off, roughly cupping his hand over your mouth, backing you further into the wall. Your boss raised a finger to his lips, shushing you with such a fond expression it actually helped you calm down. Tilting his raven hair to the door, he gestured to the guards outside who thankfully didn’t hear your hushed outburst.
“You’re terrified, aren’t you?” That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting him to say but you hesitantly nodded nonetheless.
Chrollo’s grip on your mouth went slack, his fingertips running over the plush of your lips, “Why?”
“I’m scared.. that I just crossed the line. That you don’t...” Your answer was dead on arrival in your throat, a wince in your voice and a slowly spreading panic all that remained of your short-lived confession.
It was the simplest way you could put it, your words hanging undisturbed in the air for a few moments before he could respond, “If that’s what you believe, then I’ll cross it myself.”
In the blink of an eye he’d trapped one hand in your hair, the other pulling you close by your waist and into a suffocating kiss. His lips were warmer than you thought they’d be but just as soft as you imagined; turning you into a petrified mess beneath him, brain short circuiting as his tongue held on to yours.
You pulled away first as the stinging in yours lungs became too much to bear. As you tried to catch your breath you saw his expression, eyes dilated and lips slightly stained with the color of your lip tint.
Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked up at him as best you could in the darkness, “So does this mean you like me too?”
“Christ,” He pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, frustration lacing the way he said your name, “How could I make myself clearer?”
It was possible he could see the blush you were wearing even in the black lighting of the closet from how hot it spread. When he kissed you again there wasn’t a shred of hesitation or self-doubt left to overthink, his confession ringing over and over in your head like the sweetest music you’ve ever heard. It wasn’t like any timid kiss of a new relationship, it was eager, raw, and long overdue.
His knee found its way between your legs, the friction everything you’d been craving and more, keening moans devoured by his lips before they could reach outside the closet door.
“Wait.. Chrollo, stop,” He froze, eerily still, an unreadably tense look stressing his softened features.
The voice that had been so laced with desire only a minute ago was gone, “Are you alright?”
“Wha- No, I’m fine, we just can’t do this here.”
He blinked in an owlish way that you’d call cute if he wasn’t being so flippant, “Why not?”
“What do you mean ‘why not?’” You hissed, pointing to the door and the entourage that awaited you beyond it.
You felt his lips curve into a smirk against your cheek, angling your jaw up until he spoke in a whisper, his hushed breath against your skin sending another wave of heat to your gut, “If they interrupt us,” Chrollo’s grip grew tighter, snapping you forward and forcing you to look at him, “I’ll kill them.”
“But... what about the escape plan? If they hear us—” He clicked his tongue and the hand that had been resting on your waist dipped between your legs, cupping you harshly through the black fabric of the dress, clasping your hand over your mouth to staunch the sharp whimper it brought out.
“Then you should try to stay quiet then, hm?” He led a trail of kisses down the curve of your neck, smiling as he felt you begin to relax under his grip, eyes fluttering open and shut from his touch.
He pulled his hand away, bunching the satin of your dress up your thighs until his fingertips ran along the soaked material of your panties.
“So wet for me, Darling,” It was all you could do to keep your voice down as he slipped his fingers under the waistline of the fabric, his breathing uneven as he toyed with the soft heat of your cunt, hovering kisses over your collarbone but keeping his gaze on yours as he asked, “How long have you thought about this? Thought about me?”
“A few months-ah—!” You were barely able to cover your squeak in time as he bit down on the vulnerable flesh.
“Liar.”
He read you like a book. At your juvenile silence that followed his remark he just sighed and started pulling his hand away, the absence of his fingertips on your clit enough to burn away what shame you had left.
Screwing your eyes shut, you caved, “Since I joined the Troupe!” He paused at your hushed outburst, lips parted in what might’ve actually been surprise as you melted into his touch, “I’ve wanted you for years, Chrollo.”
“That long...” The blissful pressure on your clit was back and you would’ve doubled over if it weren’t for his grip holding you down. Your eyes were still shut so it took you by surprise as his next words sounded further away than the last, “I’ll have to apologize for keeping you waiting.”
Opening your eyes to see the leader of the Phantom Troupe on his knees in front of you, pulling your ruined garments down your legs with a starving glint in his irises was a sight you’d never forget. Not to be outdone when he ran his tongue along your lips, biting into your palm to hold back the whine of your voice.
“Fuck,” He cursed, a rarity for your usually so put-together boss and the raspy tremor of it only made your legs widen. His eyes flickered to your trembling thighs that didn’t seem to be capable of supporting your weight any longer, an imaginary lightbulb flicking above his head in the darkened room.
With an unnerving kind of strength he hooked his hand under your leg and locked it around his head, becoming all too aware of the heat of his breath against the soft curve of your thigh, settling it comfortably on his shoulder.
“You’re shaking,” He observed, lining a row of chaste kisses along the plush skin, “are you still nervous, Darling?”
Both of you knew he was wrong, and he proved it by leaning further closer to the ache between your legs, tongue prodding at your sensitive clit, “Or are you just that desperate for me?”
“—Chrollo, please,” The growl in your throat was almost enough to catch him off guard, lightly banging the back of your head against the wall out of bratty frustration, “For once in your life, shut up.”
He laughed faintly against your cunt, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your stomach, before intoning a delicate, “As you wish.”
The first drag of his tongue had your back arching against the closet’s wall, the needy sigh he groaned against you sending another tide of heat into your bloodstream. He wasn’t as careful with you now, pace quickly overwhelming as his hands dug future bruises into your malleable flesh.
Your lungs hated being cooped up by your hand as you tried to stay quiet, a few honeyed pleas falling from your palm. There was a part of you still vacantly panicking at the compromising position you were in, the thought that one wrong move would be all it took to have the guards outside breaking down the door. You weren’t scared of them, god no, you were a member of the Phantom Troupe, a few armed guards would be useless against you. That still didn’t mean you necessarily wanted an entire squadron of soldiers seeing you at your most vulnerable, coming undone at Chrollo’s sinful touch.
Dark strands of hair carded through your fingers as you basked in his attention, the warming knot in your stomach ever closer to snapping. His free hand dipped below the one supporting your thigh and carefully slipped two fingers inside you, curling them up and smiling at your muffled cries.
The reality of the situation was almost overwhelming, the desperation in your grip eased when he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking the bud between his teeth. Your chest was heaving with the effort to keep still and silent even under his torture.
“Shit, Chrollo,” You whined lowly.
“Hm? What is it, love?” The new nickname was enough to make you crumble.
Even though it pained you to do so you wrenched his face away, nerves outraged at your body’s decisions. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but the stunning view of Chrollo Lucilfer, one of the most dangerous men in the entire world, below you with lips shiny and wet with your slick, was definitely giving you a power trip.
Summoning up what courage you had left, you shut your eyes and whispered, “Chrollo, please just fuck me already.”
He didn’t move for a second, eyes black with want, but before you could beg any further he’d already rose to stand over you again while he made quick work of his belt. The clinking of metal was far too loud for your predicament but it wasn’t long before you were forgetting all about the assault team waiting outside. Once he unzipped his pants low enough to free himself from his briefs it was hard to think about anything else.
Without much effort he held your waist up to his own with one hand and lined himself between you with his other; not even his unshakeable resolve enough to completely stifle a groan as you eagerly wrapped your legs around him, trapping him closer.
He hissed as you dragged your aching walls down his cock and your pupils flared at the strained moan hot against your ear, “Look at yourself, Darling. Such a fragile little thing for me, so eager to have me inside of you...” His words trailed off as the he softly ground the leaking head of his cock onto your puffy clit.
“You’ve got quite the crush on me, haven’t you?” Chrollo’s kisses turned sharp as he bit along your shoulder and up the trembling climb of your neck.
The pleas you babbled were half illegible, teeming with an unbearable desire you’d kept dormant for years finally earning its due. As he began to push into you he took your lips in his, hiding each of your whorish moans in his mouth.
It was almost surreal. You’d fantasized about this moment on and off for so long that to finally feel him pull your hips closer and stifle a groan into your tongue was shooting sparks down your spine. You eventually had to break away for air, panting madly as you rest on the wall for balance.
“Chr...oh-ah, shit, feels so good, Chrollo,” You whimpered, tucking your head onto his shoulder
When he said your name you almost came then and there, a vulnerable need in his voice you hadn’t heard before as he whispered it like gospel, “Goddamnit..”
You couldn’t wait for him any more, locking your thighs around him and drawing him flush with your waist as he audibly choked from the wet plush of your cunt. It stung for a moment but after ripping off that band-aid all you felt was full.
He couldn’t stop himself at that point, digging bruises into your thighs as he shallowly rut his hips against yours and tugged you down the wall to take you deeper.
Trying to regain his composure, he evened out his thickly voice and hushed soft praise into your ear, “Do you feel that, love? Feel me here?” He accentuated his words by curving one hand down to your stretched pussy, his palm intentionally pressing down on your abdomen as he curled precise circles onto your clit.
The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt, the moan it brought falling far too loud from your kiss-bitten lips. With a jolt of his wrist his hand was pressed against your mouth, head tilted towards the door.
“Wh.. Ivon, did you hear that?” A voice spoke from outside, and your heart fell into your stomach.
Blood was pounding in your ears as you waited for the guard’s response, eyes tearing up while mentally kicking yourself over the slip up.
The man who you could reasonably assume to be Ivon replied, “Yeah? James was just talking about the one of the guests. Did you hear somethin’ else?”
“No, I.. I just thought I..” The guard trailed off, voice already muffled through the wood of the door.
Your eyes snapped open, glaring at Chrollo as he began to move your hips back onto his. Despite the nervous tremor that still wracked your core you couldn’t help but take a kind of sick pleasure in it. The fear of your enemies finding you was exhilarating your twitching body in a way you couldn’t’ve imagined.
He watched your muffled reactions with a cheshire grin, You might’ve been a mess for him but the way his skin was flushed and his breathing stuttered as he snapped into you was enough to tell that he was close. You keened against his fingers, clenching tight around him and taking in the enticing way he shuddered.
Whatever cries you tried to make were gagged by his hand as he rubbed circles along your clit with the other. All at once the wall felt like it crumbled to dust behind you as you pulled him as close as It was the final push you needed to come undone, spasming and screaming into his hand as he left wet kisses along your neck.
Through the haze of your orgasm you couldn’t feel Chrollo take his hand off your mouth to dig his fingertips into your hips, desperately chasing his own release.
You heard him stifle each breathy curse and harsh groan into your neck, the oversensitivity enough to have you crying out from the numbingly hot friction. His teeth found solace in your jugular as he came, eyes pinched while he finished inside you, choking out the last fragments of his pleasure against your racing pulse.
It took you about two seconds before you realized what you’d done.
“Wait, what the— fuck?” A different voice said, the distinct sound of a magazine clipping into its holster echoing from beyond the closet.
Before you could panic Chrollo was pushing his index finger to your lips, a soft shush from your boss all it took to make you realize everything would be fine.
“I kne- hey, James! Get over here!” Ivon shouted, his and several other pairs of boots crowding towards the closet door.
The specialist set you carefully down to the ground, pressing an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead before collecting his bearings.
“This won’t take long, love.” He assured, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear. Chrollo hadn’t actually taken any of his clothes off, only unbuttoned them enough to have him inside you—something you immediately resolved to change the next time you did this—and was already tucking himself back into his pants and brushing down his suit to look at least semi-presentable.
“Whoever the fuck is in there, get out now. This area is off-limits to guests!” You scoffed from your spot on the floor, a blissed out smile on your face as you enjoyed the afterglow.
Chrollo feigned innocence as he answered, cautious to keep your exposed body out of their sight as he cracked open the door, “I’m coming out, there’s no need to panic..” From where you sat you saw him summon Bandit’s Secret in the hand still obscured by doorway, flicking to a particularly nasty ability. You almost felt sorry for Ano and his guards. Almost.
As you began hunting down you underwear the sounds of deafening screams filled the next room, the splatter of gore and thump of fallen limbs all too recognizable sounds in your line of work. You just managed to snatch your panties off the ground right before the steadily increasing pool of blood managed to reach it, the red stream trickling from the study.
You pulled your look together, trying to fan down the mess of your hair as much as possible before Chrollo opened the door again, not a single drop of red visible on his suit.
Both Markus Ano and his guards had all been split into pieces, their organs hacked by the unknown energy in one of your boss’ many stolen hatsu and you found yourself having a hard time matching together Ano’s face with the rest of his torso. They all looked the same at this point.
“Well this sucks. How are we gonna get out of this?” You echoed, tiptoeing around the carnage to not get your new heels dirty.
Chrollo chuckled, holding out his arm just like he did earlier that night. It was easy taking it this time, none of the hesitance from before. As he led you past the doorway and into the still-empty hallway he explained, “There was an attack on the Yul treasury tonight but they don’t know we were ever here. If we don’t claim to anything I’m sure some rebel faction will take credit soon enough.”
As you two wove your way down the hallways you weren’t even stopped by the guards who rushed upstairs at the sounds of screaming. To them it must’ve been impossible for two bloodless aristocrats to be the culprits, as by then you’d managed to blend your way into the crowd of confused guests.
You’d made your way out the front door with the play worth tens of billions nestled comfortably under your arm. It wasn’t the most important thing you’d stolen tonight by far.