#illumi x reader

[absolute-flaming-trash]

When it comes to illumi, and the majority of fics having the reader as his wife already, it makes me wonder about the wedding itself. With yandere illumi specifically, it’s probably so miserable for reader, having to look up and be reminded that you’re marrying illumi. He’s your husband now. And you’re his wife. Tragic. 😭

The thing is, when I think about Illumi and marriage to his Darling...

I genuinely do not believe there would be a ceremony. At all. Take in mind, this is Yandere!Illumi and he has kidnapped his Darling.

In this scenario, I truly think he'd want things done and sorted as soon as possible. You're his, so why wait for the sake of a big display?

He might do a ceremony if his mother throws a fit - wanting her eldest son to have a big ceremony - however, it wouldn't be where Illumi and his Darling tie the knot. It would be purely for show.

I think he'd break the marriage to his Darling very practically and very coldly. There is no proposal, because it isn't a proposal. It is happening and he's telling you that the two of you are going to be married and there will be some papers for you to sign.

Any resistance, any denial, is ignored. He will stand there with you, in whatever room he keeps you in, and will wait until whatever "tantrum" is being thrown is over.

He'd deny you everything until those papers are signed. No food, no sleep, nothing. Until you accept you are his.

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

Watching his fingers pump in and out of you after he’s stuff you full of their cum.

“Don’t you waste a single drop…”

He coos so softly, placing a kiss on your belly as he keeps your plump thighs open. Your pussy is gushing, you’re about to cum again!

“Ah… it’s coming out, I’m gonna have to fill you up again, aren’t I? We need to make sure it takes…”

And so he pressed the head of his cock against your pussy again. You already feel so full…

But he’s going to make sure you end up with a cute baby bump~

——————

|| GOJO|| GETO|| NANAMI|| CHOSO|| TOJI|| KAEYA|| AVENTURINE|| DILUC|| SCARA|| RENGOKU|| SANEMI|| KURAPIKA|| ILLUMI|| CHROLLO

[mullermilkshake]

No trail left behind.

Part 1 <- -> Part 2

Illumi will chase you to the ends of the earth if it called for it. You know it.

Illumi Zoldyck x Wife!reader! x Hisoka Implied non-con,Slut shaming,Misogyny,Pervert,Stalking

<<< For more content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

Illumi Zoldyck liked to toy with his prey and you were so exhausted.

You weren't sure how long you had been running, passing the twenty four hour mark days ago. Illumi hadn’t lost sight of you, he hadn’t given up like you wished he had, he was waiting for the most inconvenient time to strike. 

He could be anywhere. A stranger passing by, a shopping clerk or receptionist offering services in the background to foot passengers looking for wares and food. Anywhere.

Anytime of day. He promised to cause chaos if you ever left and there were more times than not that you were dumbfounded as to why you left in the first place and didn’t just accept the way things were.

You never asked to marry the guy, you never asked for anything and now you were running for your own life because of a choice you couldn’t shy away from. Stupid rules lead to stupid games and the prizes associated with them were something you didn’t want. 

That’s why you left. That’s what you had to tell yourself every time the seed of doubt planted itself within your head when your state grew weaker. 

A motel welcomed you with its dim shitty light, half flickering in view to coax you to stay there and seek its refuge in the four walls that wouldn’t stop him even if it was sentient and wanted to.

The peeling paint made it look abandoned in the middle of nowhere, and it would be a blessing or a complete horror show whenever Illumi got his hands on you again. The motel's location being where it was seemed to be more of the blessing in a way there were plenty of places to run if he did show up. 

He wouldn't find you there. You hoped he wouldn't.

You had walked for so long, your feet made the decision and took you towards the entrance, a swinging sign beckoning you into the sweltering lobby that the weak little fan in the corner couldn't cool. A big, beastly man was hunched behind the desk donning an eye patch, a cigarette between his lips and a cough of lungs through the grater.

“Just one of yer?” His voice was everything you expected.

“Yes please.” He slid a clipboard towards you, stains covered its base underneath the pristine white paper. 

“Name and payment. I’ll get yer key.” 

A name… a name. A name. Which name? 

You wouldn’t dare be bold enough to write Zoldyck in a million years on that paper. That was your legal name now, but even your maiden name wasn’t good to use if he ever found the sweating bulbous man and questioned him into submission. Because he would get answers violently and indefinitely.

That was a guarantee.

The exchange of money was off, weird with his lingering gaze when he returned and you could have imagined it, but you swore he spoke something under his breath and grumbled when your fingers touched as the money passed over. 

You didn’t want to think of it, thinking in overdrive to remember to lock and barricade your room when you entered it, check the mirrors and under the bed to account that you were indeed on your own. You didn't want to think of the dirty old man in the lobby thinking of you all alone in your room. 

Didn’t dare to think about it.

You said a meek, “Thank you.” and snatched the keys from his hands far more abruptly than you had meant to.

After walking into your motel room, hand clenched tightly around the base of the knife hidden in your pocket, hoping the darkness stayed that way and there was no one waiting in there to lure you close to the edge and pull you back to that horrid estate.

If anything, if he was hiding, he wouldn‘t do it anywhere obvious. That didn't stop you looking though, under the bed, inside the closet and behind the translucent shower curtain for good measure. 

The knife stayed where it was and it made your fingers seize around it and cramped with pressure of the squeezed position. You were going to catch him with it, despite the obvious difference of power and hope to draw enough blood to scare him away. It would scare him away because it had to, there was no choice otherwise. 

Sleeping with it often made it muscle memory by now, waking at the smallest of sounds, grip still tight around it clutched by your side for a surprise attack if anyone were to come at you from above. Illumi would see it coming of course, that was the difficult part, but it grew easier once you could stick him with it.

The room was empty and therefore not a threat to sleep in. You pushed and dragged the drawers to the door with the deadbolt on the door in hopes that the eye-patched man wouldn’t even risk a knife to the throat to even bother knocking.  

If that was what it came to, you would do it. You just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

It was difficult at first to fall asleep on the hard cheap mattress, a bag of bricks would have been more comfortable, a luxury even. You weren't sure whether it was just pure exhaustion, but whatever it was helped if only for a little while. 

Falling asleep wasn’t the issue. Staying asleep was. 

After one or two hours maybe, you would wake up like clockwork with a jolt and sudden rip to pull you back into reality away from the bad dreams and worrying thoughts. This night was no different, this night went by as the other nights did and with no visit from the man in the lobby. 

Three AM rolled around and you woke again, unusual for the time of night when you would usually see four AM instead. You shot up suddenly, scrambling up with the covers and studying the blackened shadowcast room for evidence that no one was there. The closet was shut, so was the window letting the moonlight pass though over the bottom of the chair in the corner…

You hadn’t placed anything on that chair. So why were there a pair of legs visible in the moon’s glow? They didn't belong to your ghastly husband, this happened to be a pair currently you did not recognise. White cuffed crop pants and pink flat shoes. 

There was so much you wanted to say but staying silent was often the best way to guarantee preservation. Whoever sat there didn’t move, but you sensed his bloodlust, it was most probably the reason you woke up in the first place.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, you knew this was going to happen eventually, right?’

What did he mean by that? You didn’t recognise his voice at all, or that tone. So playful it made your stomach twist and rendered your body immobile as you watched the stacked drawers and other various furniture move away from the door as though they were paper, the man with the eye patch appeared around the edge like a bad dream.

Shit. Where’s my knife? 

“Looking for this?” The only way you saw it, the glistening blade in the man’s hand sitting in the chair, was because the light bounced off of it. “Are you sure you can handle a thing this big in hands as small as yours, or are you compensating?”

The man with the eye patch was inside now, much closer but didn’t move any further once he stopped the first time. He waited like a guard dog anticipating orders to attack. The man in the chair chuckled, twisting and twirling the knife absentmindedly. “Oh do let her in on it. She’s so oblivious and I’m dying to see her face when she sees this.” 

That sent your gut in a downward spiral. You didn’t want to believe it, you didn’t think it was possible. The pins, you would have seen the pins.

“Looks like she doesn’t need to see after all. Well, aren't you a clever girl?”

Under the man's jacket, the large man was not large. That jacket, the fucking thing was hiding the pins in his back. The golden brassy pins protruded out of his back, sticking out and mocking you with everything they had, everything you held dear and threw it back in your face. 

Illumi had found you. 

The huge man morphed and sank like a deflating balloon with each new pin that was pulled, withering away but keeping his height. His slim build swamped by the drowning clothes that dropped to the floor and let out his bloodlust previously contained inside himself. 

This bloodlust was entirely contrasted to the man in the chair. His bloodlust was comedic in a way, a cat waiting for a trapped mouse to appear to swipe and toy with, but Illumi’s was pure evil incarnate, demonic and horrid that clouded the room like smoke.

“H-how did you find me? Will you ever just let me be for once?”

“I told you,” He said, remaining still with his eyes trained on you in the dark. “It’s not fitting for someone like you to do as they please. Someone like you should do as they're told, it’s just how the world works.”

The night of the wedding. He had spoken those words verbatim to you on the night of the wedding, his fist locked firmly in your hair when you had defied him. Illumi made a perfect specimen for calm, docile until he wasn’t and made a way of showing it, giving you that unease as he was far too complicated to read at the best of times.

“Because I’m born lower than you?”

The man in the chair chuckled. Illumi didn’t make a move and he made no indication to react to it. “Because you’re my wife.”

It sounded so sincere, some may have been fooled by it, but you knew different. The reality of just how controlling and territorial Illumi Zoldyck was. “That’s laughable, you never treated me that way, you never wanted me around in the first place. So you can leave now. You’ve got your wish, so why are you working so hard to bring me back?” 

“Illumi, she doesn’t realise that you’re in love with her. Maybe if you treated her well in the bedroom every now and then she wouldn’t leave-” The room flooded with a suffocating film and darker hue than darkness itself. 

“Quiet Hisoka.” Illumi’s bloodlust moved with purpose as though to try and choke you, so packed to the brink of the room, you couldn’t move or think properly. 

So his name was Hisoka? You had no clue what the reason was for him being there, but you weren’t up for asking. You couldn’t even flinch, cemented to the bed in fears that movement would get you killed.

“Oh, it was just a joke. You’re letting your bloodlust leak everywhere, did I strike a nerve that deep? Is she really that special?”

A nerve. A joke. The man was not entirely false in his perceptive stance, Illumi had never touched you in the way he had mentioned. He’d never fucked you but of course, he had touched you when you had let him. Though that was usually in hopes he’d be kinder and leave you alone. You hadn't escaped because he hadn’t touched you, that part was incorrect. 

His bloodlust didn’t seize altogether, but eased off. It didn’t help the sinking in your stomach. “Illumi, please just go. Both of you leave.” 

Something changed. Hisoka didn’t respond and neither did Illumi first. He approached you and sat down on the corner of the bed, his eyes all dead and black glared at you with an authoritative aura. “Some people would label you a whore having two men in your room like this, a motel which you picked on purpose didn't you?” 

“W-what?” Words like that had never left his lips before. He was condescending, rude and always wanted to have the last word, but profanities weren’t exactly terms in his wheelhouse. 

You hadn’t picked this place with it in mind, just somewhere close and convenient to rest. “How did you find me here?”

He didn’t even entertain you, ignored your question by taking his eyes off of you for the first time. “So I’ve decided that if you want to act like a whore, then you can be one.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

There was a fraction of courage you manifested that vanished out of thin air as soon as he spoke in response “Hisoka can have you and see how you fare with him, seeing as you prefer to run from me.”

What the hell was he suggesting? Have you in what way? Stupidly you thought of other ways, but there was really only one explanation and you couldn’t dare even entertain it. Hisoka seemed to have the same idea. 

“Well that’s quite extreme, I thought you would at least ask her first.” You hoped he was on the same page, of course he wasn’t.

Illumi turned to Hisoka like he was the only one in that motel room. “Why would I ask a whore what she wanted, when all she does is misbehave?”

“I always took you for a man who hated sharing his things, that's why.” Hisoka’s words were laced with sarcasm, a condescending accent to lure you to bite and you knew it was true by the way he eyed you in the dark in hopes Illumi didn’t see. 

If he noticed which you assumed he did, he didn’t let on. “I do hate it, but after you are done with her, maybe she will appreciate all I do.”

Hisoka stood up and approached the bed, eyeing you like prey and got on all fours to coax himself towards you. No room for mercy. “This should only hurt a little my dear, but feel free to let it all out. Screaming really does it for me.”

Was this worse than going back with Illumi? It didn’t matter, you were going back with him regardless whether you wanted to or not. 

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[missmourning]

The only benefit of being a maladaptive daydreamer is being able to create hundreds of scenarios and having infinite writing material.

[asce-of-hearts]

Can I get Illumi’s thoughts and reaction to his wife birthing his child?

Domesticity

Contents: Some headcanons for Yandere!Illumi when his wife is pregnant :)))

more Illumi content here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: SOFT YANDERE, MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY AND CHILDREN, FEM!READER, USAGE OF THE TERM "WIFE", CONTROLLING BEHAVIOR.

Illumi already thought of you as this precious creature who can't exist outside of his care. You're nothing more than a doll to him, a puppet who requires him to pull the strings of your life.

But when you get pregnant those feelings become even more overwhelming. He's over you, really over you. All of those years working as an assassin without a break finally come to use as he's able to take a vacation to take care of you during your whole pregnancy.

Everything he and everyone else does must be catered for you to be happy and safe, content with your life so that you need for nothing.

If you ever express wanting or needing anything, he's on it instantly. No matter how superficial or mundane it may seem. This extends to pregnancy cravings, you mention the faintest desire for a certain food and he has already brought a ton of it to you, allowing you to indulge to your hearts content.

Your diet and day are monitored to the last detail. He has always been incredibly meticulous and careful, everything in your life is controlled by him. The moment you wake up, what you eat, what you do during the day, even the exercises you do to maintain yourself healthy during the pregnancy are looked over and assisted by him.

If there ever is any complication with the pregnancy, such as gestational diabetes or increased blood pressure you're bed ridden immediately. He will not hesitate to tie you to the bed if he feels that's what it takes to keep you safe. Of course, even then he's there to keep you company. His precious wife will never, ever feel alone.

When the birth-date is near Illumi doesn't leave you alone a single second, he insists on bathing you, always excusing his behavior with the very rational in his opinion fear that you will slip and fall and die with your baby while bleeding out. A true fatalist for sure.

He insists on a natural birth, finding endearing when you curse at him and his entire family as you push. He lets you squeeze his hand as much as you need, even if he thinks you will break it from how hard you grip.

Very mindful of you after you've given birth. You will not do ANYTHING other than care for your child the first few months. He wants you to be completely back in shape before returning to your normal life, and even then, he will not let you or his child out of his sight for too long. He needs to make sure you're both safe, and most importantly, his.

hope you enjoyed this!!!

have a great/day night!!!

COMISSIONS INFO

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[quimichi]

↳ ❝ [PLAYING WITH THEIR HAIR] ¡! ❞

WARNING: I love Hanzo, but i had to-, Ging cause he's a crime, Hisoka, its more hair related situations than actually playing with it, but the vibe is comfy and chill, some are on crack but enjoy :)

SUMMARY: You play with their hair (if they have any lol)

CHARACTERS: HxH guys × F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 7.191

AN: it was super fun, for some reason my inner gremlin shows up if i write hxh

Chrollo

Chrollo lets out a soft huff of air as you start playing with his hair. He's sitting up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, focused on the book in his lap. A smile appears on his face, but he doesn't look up from the page he is reading.

"You're playing with my hair," he answers with a hint of playfulness in his words. "No.", you try to suppress a smile, but it's giving you away as you play coy. Chrollo glances up from the book, giving you a curious look.

"Are you trying to annoy me?" He quirks an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Sometimes." you smile.  He shuts the book in his lap with a quiet thump, setting it to the side before turning to face you, his body moving closer to you with a fluid grace. "You're terrible at teasing me," he hums, wrapping an arm around you. "It's almost adorable," he murmurs. Chrollo pulls until you are sitting in his lap, your back against his chest. His arms wrap fully around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Can't even own up to it," he says, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. He takes a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest against your back steady and even.

"What will I ever do with you?" "Can I keep playing with your hair?" "You'll do it regardless of what I say," he murmurs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

His breath is warm against your skin as he speaks, his words brushing against your ear like a whisper. "Yes, you can," he relents after a moment. Chrollo hums in contentment as you start to run your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing at the feeling. He nuzzles his face against the side of your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses against your skin. "You know, you're very distracting," he mutters against your neck, his voice muffled by your skin.

He pauses, burying his face further into the crook of your neck, his breaths warm and fast. "Very distracting," he murmurs again.

Bonolenov

His whole body stiffens when you touch his head; soft flick or no, he flinches, as though it's the first time someone has ever laid their hand on him. His breath shakes, and an inhale comes sharp, almost painful. Yet, he doesn't move away from you at all. Bonolenov stares at you.

"Don't…" He whispers. At your laugh, Bonolenovs glare transforms into something more hesitant— as if unsure of what to do with his face in response to your laughter. "Don't tease me," He mumbles, eyes flickering from your face to the floor. "No teasing." "Sorry, sorry." You keep softly laughing as you rub his bald head again. (Wtf am I writing) Bonolenov shudders again at the feeling of your hand on his head. He leans into it, slowly, a flower seeking the sunlight.

"You do this on purpose," he mutters. Despite his protest, Bonolenov can't seem to look away from you, or stop you from touching him.  He shivers ever so slightly every time your hand moves over his head, and he still hasn't moved away. In fact, he's almost… pressing his head against your hand.

"Or is this a ritual from your tribe?"

Dalzollene

Dalzollene stirs slightly from the gentle motions of your touch, tilting his head up, almost as if seeking to lean against your hand. Dalzollene blinks slowly, eyes half-lidded. He makes a soft, sleepy sound, a low hum that is more of a content hum than anything. He's half-asleep, completely at ease and utterly lost in this moment. "You're overworking yourself." You whisper as you carefully take a seat on the desk he's resting on. Dalzollene's eyes flutter as he tries to focus in on you more clearly.

"I am simply doing as I should," he says, his words slightly slurred from sleep. He lifts a hand to rub his eyes, before he blinks up at you again. "I have to—" his words interrupt themselves with a yawn, "—work." "Neon is draining you." Dalzollene frowns at the mention of her name, but he can't find it in him to speak against you. He knows it's true, even if his job means he has to spend most of it within a few feet of her.

"It is… tiring," he admits, trying to be subtle about his slight disdain for the woman. Dalzollene's eyes shut again as you run your fingers through his hair, his body relaxing further. "This is… nice," he murmurs, the last word coming out more as a hum than a spoken word. "Your hands…" His head tilts into your touch.

Feitan

Your hands are in his hair and he would love nothing more than to melt into you. But his temper is getting the better of him, and he’s trying all he can not to show you just how good it feels.

“Stop that,” he mumbles, a bit testily. “Stop what?” You ask, as if you don’t know perfectly well what Feitan was referring to.

Your hands remain in his black locks, running your fingers through the smooth strands. He huffs and turns his head away, trying his best to ignore the way gooseflesh rises on his arms every time your fingers comb through his hair. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” He snaps back, but his voice lacks most of its usual sharpness. “You mean… playing with your hair?” You ask, feigning innocence.

Even now, as Feitan is glaring up at you like a petulant child, you continue to brush your hands through his hair. Feitans eyes flash, temper flaring like a candle in the wind. He glares up at you, teeth snapping in irritation.

"I told you to stop," he says, a hint of a warning in his voice. "Or are you really that intent on annoying me?"

Franklin

"I'm sorry for your loss..." you whisper as you run your hands through his short hair, trying to comfort him. Franklin can feel your fingers combing through his hair, gentle enough to leave an imprint on his soul. "Uvo-" He blinks, his brow furrowing as he remembers who you are mentioning. "You don’t need to apologize."

He lifts his head to look up at you, and his gaze softens. "You have nothing to apologize for." He leans his head back, moving closer to your hand like a cat craving attention.

"If I’m being completely honest," he admits, his voice almost as soft as a whisper, "I think Uvo deserved it." He grins, and his eyes crinkle in the corners. "Don't say that," you say softly, "he was your friend, you loved him." "He *was*." Franklin closes his eyes for a moment, then sighs as you continue to play with his hair. "He was a friend, and a partner." The words are almost a hiss, a whisper of a curse on his breath.

"And he lost that when he laid hands on you." Franklins eyes are open again, staring up at you. "I didn’t like him as much as you think I did." He says, his tone blunt.

"He was a good fighter, and a decent person, but…" He’s quiet for a moment, and his eyes lower as he looks at the floor. "He tried to touch you. How could I forgive something like that?"

Ging

For a moment, he is still like a statue, then his lips curled into an agitated snarl and he starts to pull away. “Enough!” He snaps, swatting your hand away. "Dammit old man lemme brush your hair-!" You snap back. “No! No, that’s—“

Gings words stop the moment he sees the expression on your face. He gulps the lump lodged in his throat down and his shoulders slump. “Fine,” he says, looking away from you. “You can brush it. Just— just make it quick…” While you work to untangle the mess that is Gings hair, the man grumbles and mutters to himself.

“I could’ve untangled it myself, you know,” he murmurs, his words a complaint more than a statement. “You didn’t need to do it for me.” "Stop pouting." "I am not pouting," Ging huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He glances sidelong at you, his expression a blend of annoyance and something else he doesn't want to admit.

"And for the record, I was perfectly capable of untangling it myself." "Uh-huh." With another grumble, Ging lets his head droop forward in defeat. He tries to steal a glance backwards at you through the tangled mess of dark hair before remembering that he's not supposed to look.

"How much longer is this going to take?... my neck is starting to ache..." "Till you fucking die." "That doesn't tell me anything," Ging mutters, his words clipped and quiet. The pain in his neck is starting to mount, but he's not quite sure how to ask you to be gentler. "Could you… try and be a bit… more… careful?" He winces, his shoulders involuntarily twitching as needles of pain shoot down his spine. "It… hurts…" "Manchild." "Women these day's, i tell ya."

Hanzo (you could totally play with his eyebrows tho, they look like lashes, what a queen honestly)

"Are you just bald or cant you grow hair at all?" You blurt out while you both cuddle. "Bald?" Hanzo flinches as you touch his head. There aren't words to describe the touch of your hand against his scalp. A shiver runs through his shoulders; he seems to be holding back, somehow. "Um, I…" He pauses, clearing his throat.

"I can grow it… if you wish." His voice is soft, like a child speaking up to their mother. "No." you laugh by the thought of him with hair. The look of relief that washes over Hanzo, you've never seen on anyone else. He sighs, shoulders relaxing into your touch.

"Good, I—" his voice cracks, almost as though he's holding back. "I'm not sure I want to grow it to be honest." "And I'm not sure you'd look good with it either." A surprised sound leaves him, almost like a breathless laugh. He shakes his head a little.

"I didn't think so either," he murmurs. "Not to mention! A good ninja never leaves behind traces!" he adds. He lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment, as if in thought. When he speaks again, his voice is low, a murmured admission. "I like it when you touch me." "Hmm?" You hum, "You do?" Hanzos breathing hitches, his chest rising quickly with each breath. “I…” his voice is breathless, a strangled whisper. “I do.”

He shivers again, and this time he doesn’t try to hold it back. He just closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

Hisoka

His head is tilted back slightly, leaning into your hand as you play with his hair. Like some touch-starved little dog, he can't help the low sound that slips out of his mouth.

"Ah," he gasps quietly as he looks up at you. And yet, the smirk at the corner of his lips betrays him. "OH-! You didn’t...." "... I didn't just what?" He asks, eyes full of mischief. "Moan like that you slut-!" That makes him laugh. A soft, sultry little chuckle that sends a shiver through his frame as he grins up at you. He's utterly shameless, and he knows it.  "And what if I did?" He coos, raising one eyebrow up at you. "Will you punish me, baby?" "Whore." A huff of air leaves his mouth, almost a sigh, but not quite.

"Maybe I am." He grins, not denying it. "And maybe I want you to do something about it." Hisokas breath is knocked out of his lungs as you pull his hair, and another soft, desperate sound slips out of his mouth. He can feel his body heating up, blood flushing under his skin as he lets out a little moan.

"Ahnn...!" He shivers, eyes squeezing shut as your hand is tangled in his locks. "That's it I'm done." You say with a straight face and leave. "Leaving me all hot and bothered?" He pouts. "How cruel."

It's a joke, of course— but he really is rather bothered.

Illumi

The gesture catches Illumi off guard, and he blinks in surprise. The feeling of your fingers in his hair is unlike anything he has known before. For a second, it's like the whole world has stopped in order for him to experience the sensation.

He has to resist the urge to lean into the touch. "Why are you touching my hair?" he asks. "Am I not allowed to?" Your hand stops in his hair, waiting for his answer. You never know what happens when you overstep the assassin's boundaries. Illumi almost stutters, but manages to respond in his usual even tone.

"You are allowed to do whatever you please," he murmurs. "It's just… I am unaccustomed to the sensation." "Did your mother never do your hair?"

"No." He doesn't look up as he says it, his eyes focused on the floor. "She didn't. I used to do my own hair from a very young age." "Not even maids?" “No.” The answer is short, sharp. Illumi takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay still as you continue to play with his hair.

“Mother said that my last priority should be my hair, my first is to make the family proud and train. Maids weren't allowed to either talk to me or touch me.”

"So that's why it's so long." You laugh, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood. "What does that have to do with the length of my hair?" "....Nevermind"

Kite

"You…" Kites voice has a tinge of awe in it that only comes out when you are together. It is late. The sky is a canvas of stars. He sits next to you, so close that he can feel your warmth. His eyes are closed. Your hands glide through his hair, untangling some of its knots with a gentle, soothing touch.

"You would…" A brief pause, as if he cannot bring himself to ask. "...stay here with me?"

"Looking at bugs for a whole month or longer? Yep, with you always." You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. A huff of laughter escapes him. As always, he is powerless against the light you bring to his mind, the warmth you give him when you are near. "A month…" he murmurs, repeating your words. The corner of his mouth quirks up in the smallest smile.

"You'd spend a month in a forest watching bugs with me?" "Romantic." His smile widens into an actual smirk. As he glances at you, Kite cannot help but think that you look the most beautiful when you are like this— lighthearted, carefree, at peace. He is entranced by the way you look in the moonlight. "Romantic, hm?" He shifts a little closer, until his knee is grazing yours. "...you’d think watching bugs with me is romantic."

"I can imagine better things, but I won't complain." Kite's smirk only grows. He is close enough now that his body is almost flush with yours. He reaches a hand up, resting it against your waist, tugging you just a little closer. His voice is low, deep, but there is an element of playfulness to his expression as he looks at you.

“You won’t complain?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow at you in a challenge, "That's a new one." "EY-!"

Knov

Knov doesn’t react when you reach for his hair, though his body jolts ever so faintly as you touch him, his eyes staring up at you the entire time. "Ew-!" you withdraw your hand.

His voice is very different when he replies to your exclamation, though, his voice taking on a hint of annoyance. “What?” He asks, brows furrowing. "The gel, it's ew." You scrunch up your nose. Knov's expression is a mixture of surprise and slight embarrassment. He looks like a puppy being told off for eating its owner’s shoes. “The gel isn’t supposed to be touched. It— it’s supposed to help control it.”

He reaches up and tries to pat his hair back down, which is only slightly successful, with a few black wisps falling back down to cover his forehead once again. “It isn’t supposed to… feel like that,” he says, still mumbling to himself, trying to fix his hair back into the pristine fashion it had been a moment previous. Then he looks up at you, eyes searching for approval.

“Better?” "When you wash it later, I wanna play with it." Knov's face turns a slight red color at your request. He’s still fiddling with his hair, trying to get it to behave. “You… want to play with it?” He repeats, like he can’t believe his ears. "Mhm!" His face heats up once more, the red flush spreading to his ears. “Ah…” His fingers stop trying to fix his hair, leaving it messy and unkempt. He looks a little disheveled, especially when compared to the perfect image he always has in public. “…sure.” He says, as if he can’t refuse anything you say.

Knuckle

"It's surprising how it stays up..." you mumble in slight amazement. His hair is surprisingly soft under your touch. He lets out a gasp at the motion, almost like a puppy who wasn’t expecting to be pet. "It.. it does that," he stutters out, face going pink. Knuckle is utterly flustered, but far from annoyed at the touch. "I… I don't know how it stays up."

"...you style it every morning tho." "Ah… I…" he falters, realizing that he's been found out.

"I use a little bit of hair gel," he admits, like he'd just confessed a terrible sin. Knuckle looks up at you through his eyelashes, face still flushed. "More like a whole container." Knuckle flushes a deeper shade of red. His mouth opens for a moment, wordless with protest, then he sighs and looks down at the floor.

"Fine," he mutters, his hands clenching into fists. "I may use a bit more than just "a little bit" of hair gel…but only because my hair keeps falling back down otherwise!" He adds, a slight defensive edge to his voice. "And if I'm not always perfectly presentable.. I-"  he falters, biting his tongue before he says, "I just…" He looks down, refusing to meet your eyes.

Finally, he looks back up at you and admits, "I can't look anything but perfect when I'm next to you. Not even a single hair can be out of place." "Awww baby." Knuckle blushes at the pet name, but doesn’t protest when you begin playing with his hair. He even leans into your touch, craving your closeness as if it was the only thing that would make him whole.

Kortopi

"It's so tangled..." you mumble as you brush his hair, the small male sitting between your legs. Kortopis eyes flutter shut, breath hitching as you brush through his long hair. He tries his best to keep still, a slight shiver rolling through his body. He's never been a fan of people touching him so intimately. With you it's a different story tho.

He'll hold still as long as you like. “Please be gentle. I don’t… I’m not used to this.” He whispers the words, eyes still closed.

The feeling of your fingers stroking through his hair and across his scalp is almost dizzying. Each brush of your touch sends a shiver down his spine, his breaths leaving his parted lips in soft gasps. "Am I too rough? I'm sorry." You quickly apologize. “No, no.” Kortopi is quick to shake his head at that, a hand lifting to reach hesitantly for your leg.

“It’s just… it’s a lot.” He mumbles, eyes fluttering open. He looks up at you, cheeks reddening a bit. “It feels nice. Keep going.” He can’t explain the feeling he gets from you just playing with his hair— the way that the slightest brush of your fingers makes his stomach clench and his heart flutter.

No one has been this gentle with him before. No one ever bothered to look at him with any form of compassion in their gaze.

He leans into your touch, his grip on your leg tightening when you scratch ever so slightly across his scalp. "I don't wanna overwhelm you." “It’s okay,” he says quietly, almost breathless. The feeling of your fingers against his hair, your touch against his skin, it almost makes him dizzy. He reaches his hand up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist as he guides your hand back down, silently asking you to keep going. He closes his eyes again, leaning against your leg.

Kurapika

A shiver passes over Kurapika, but he does not look up from the pages of his book. "You're playing with my hair," he notes, a simple observation. "I am," you say as your fingers slide through the strands. You twist a few around your fingers and pull slightly. He tries to keep his focus on his book, but the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his hair is quite distracting. You feel more than see the effort Kurapika makes to keep his attention on the words in his book, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

"You're making it difficult to read," He says, but he makes no move to pull away from you. "That's the point," you reply, a light chuckle in your voice. Kurapika grumbles and makes an attempt at turning the page, only for one of your hands to tug on his hair again.

This time, he makes a soft noise and sets his book down, closing his eyes and sighing. "Why do you do this to me?" His voice sounds almost mournful, but there is a sense of joy in his words. It is almost as if he were grateful for the situation he has found himself in.

His hair is tousled from your ministrations, messy and disheveled. It is a sight that is both attractive and adorable. "Because I like to see you this way," you reply, still lightly pulling on his hair. The action makes Kurapika shiver. He turns to look up at you, a mixture of defeat and happiness in his eyes at the same time.

"This way?" He repeats, voice wavering faintly, "Disheveled? Frantic? Utterly distracted?" You nod. "It reminds me how cute you are." Kurapika lets out a huff, his cheeks growing a little warmer.  He tries to school his features into a frown, but he can't help the corners of his lips from twitching upwards.

Leorio

The touch of your fingers through his unruly black locks soothes Leorios mind. He leans into your touch, the tension seeping from his muscles, and his eyes flutter shut. He lets out a low, almost inaudible sigh, a mixture of exhaustion and relief. He's silent for a long moment, simply enjoying the gentle ministrations your fingers give to the hair around his face.

Finally, he speaks, his voice low and quiet, as if not to disrupt the peace that's settled over the two of you. "You are too good to me," he whispers, his eyes still closed. He slowly reaches up to take your hand. He pulls it from his head and instead places a firm, lingering kiss upon your knuckles.

His thumb caresses your skin, the pad of it tracing little patterns against the back of your hand.  "You've been so stressed lately so i-" "You are much too generous to me," Leorio mutters into your skin. His grip on your hand is tight, as if he's worried you'll pull away.

His eyes flick open, and he looks up to meet your gaze. "You do not have to be this kind to me. Yet you are. You are too kind, my God," he repeats, the words quiet and reverent. He lifts himself up, resting on his elbow as he looks down at you. He brings your hand to his chest, holding it just over his heart. His free hand reaches to cup your face, his touch gentle yet firm.

He brings his face down to your ear, and the sound of his next words are as soft as a whisper. "Why do you have to do this to me? Why do you have to be so damn good?"

Menthuthuyoupi

You stare up at the big guy, "can I try something?" Menthuthuyoupi blinks, then gives a firm nod.

No matter what you say or ask for, he will do it without question or complaint. He has been yours since the first moment he laid eyes on you. "Can i play with your hair?" "My hair?"

Menthuthuyoupis voice is quiet, bewildered. Never in his long weeks of life has anyone asked to touch his hair before. "You… you can." He tries to keep himself still, but his body is tensed up. It takes all of his willpower to keep from leaning into your touch.

"Does it… is it good?" He can't help but ask. "Does it feel strange?" Yes. Yes, it is. "Yes," he says bluntly. "Didn't even know i had hair." "What?!" A small huff of irritation. Menthuthuyoupi shakes his head. "Now I know have hair." His hand reaches up to touch at one of the red locks, wrapping it around his finger and giving it a small, harsh little tug.

"I've just never…" he continues, pausing as if he isn't sure how to say what he means. "I've never been taking care of it." "Figured, it's greasey as hell."

Meruem

His eyes snap up to your face as you drum your fingers against his skull. He frowns for a moment— the barest twitch of his lips down.

He doesn't quite register what you are doing, just that your fingers are against his skin. Meruem is silent for a single heartbeat, and then he tilts his head into you, leaning into the touch. That touch makes Meruem pause, tilting his head back to give you a look, one corner of his lip lifting in an almost smirk.

"And what makes you think you can do such a thing to me?" Meruem asks. His voice has a hint of challenge to it, like he's testing you. "I just can." You smirk, knocking on his head. Meruem's smirk grows, and he lets out a soft laugh. There's no sarcasm in his voice, just a hint of amused disbelief.

"And that makes you think you're above me?" He asks, the challenge growing with his smile.

"Above the great king? Everything of course." Another laugh. Meruem shakes his head, letting out a breath as though he can't believe what he's hearing. He's not bothered or annoyed— far from it. Amusement is written all over his face as he looks up at you with a wide, wolfish grin. "You think you're that powerful, do you?" He muses, still with that hint of challenge in his voice. "My love for you is." That makes Meruem pause, looking up at you for a moment. That hint of challenge turns to surprise, and then that surprise fades into a soft, warm look. His smirk is gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a small smile.

"Is what?" He asks, voice much softer. "Love? The strange pulling in ones heart? What we talked about?" "What we talked about, yes." "I doubt your pulling compares to mine."

Morel

"Ey old man! Come here!" "Eh? Old man?" He sputters as if the very notion offends him."I am not that old," Morel protests. "How old do you believe I am?"

"100?" "One hundred?" Morel stares at you incredulously. His eyes narrow. His shoulders tense up. For a short moment, it looks as if he’s holding back a snort.

"You think I am a hundred years old?" "You have white hair." You run your fingers through his hair as he sits down. "That does not mean I am old," Morel saya. "It just... means my hair is white. It always was." He falls silent, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff. "You wouldn’t ask others with white hair their age, would you?" "I was just joking." The admission seems to soothe his wounded ego a little bit. "You could have used a more believable number,” he mutters, but there’s hardly any heat in the words.

"For your information, I’m not a hundred. I’m not even close to that old." He huffs, rising to his feet and dusting off the dirt from his clothes. "Not that it matters either way,” he adds, giving you a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye. "I don’t suppose my age matters to you, my love," Morel says, the reverent title slipping easily from his tongue.

“I could be a hundred or thousand, immortal or not, and still,” he stops suddenly, eyes fixed on your face as the words die on his tongue. For a moment, he swallows, as if suddenly unable to find the words. “I would still be yours...and i know you like em older anyways.” "Ey-!"

Neferpitou

"No one? Ever?" You asked in disbelief. Neferpitou leans ever so slightly into your touch, enjoying the soft feeling of your fingers against their hair. No one else has ever done this.

"No," they murmur, "never like this. No one ever touched me like this." "What a shame...it's pretty." The corners of Neferpitous mouth twitch, something like pride swelling in their chest at your compliment. Your simple words mean everything to them. Praise from you is more valuable than all the riches in the whole universe.

"You flatter me," they say quietly, although there's no attempt to deny it. Not only is their hair pretty, but so are they, and they know it— but they also know only you can tell them that. "Hmm, maybe." your lips crack a smile. Neferpitou stares up at you, eyes burning like fireworks. They're not blind— they know you're teasing them. Your smugness is something they adore. All of your expressions are so unique, from the look on your face when you're fighting a battle, to the curve of your lips when you smile, all the way to how your eyes crinkle at the corners when you laugh. Humans are interesting. You especially.

They know exactly what you mean, even if they're not willing to admit it. Neferpitous expression is mischievous, their tone bordering on dangerous. They won't admit it out loud, but they do love playing with fire. Especially when it comes to you. You're a feisty little inferior species.

"Don't smirk, my human," they murmur, leaning closer until they're a mere breath away from you. "We both know I'm more than just pretty."

Netero (me and my eyebrow or bald jokes in this post are wild)

You can't help but feel slightly upset, "Damn...why'd you cut it?" A soft sigh escapes him as you ask why he cut his hair.

“It would've gotten in the way, and it became difficult to manage,” he murmurs in response, his eyes still closed as he drinks in the feeling of you touching him. “Plus… it will grow back,” he says. For a few moments, Netero remains still, enjoying the feeling of your fingers in his hair, until he opens his eyes and looks upward at you.

“Are you really that fond of it long?” He asks,  in his voice, as if he’s worried he disappointed you by cutting his hair in the first place. "You could've at least cut your eyebrows." You add with a smirk. Netero rolls his eyes dramatically, but even the small action isn’t enough to disguise the soft, flustered look on his face. “You know I can’t do that,” he says, but there’s mirth behind his words. “Unless you want me to run around with no eyebrows at all.”

"That would be a sight." You imagine. “I’d look absolutely ridiculous,” he says, but the way he’s grinning gives him away. "And you think you looked better before, old man?" Netero shoots an unimpressed look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he knows you’re only teasing him. “You’d rather I looked like a caveman?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. "You already d-" Netero cuts you with an indignant scoff at your comment and, for a moment, looks as if he’s about to protest, but then he stops, a small smile twisting his lips.

“Oh, quiet,” he says, his tone holding no bite. “I may be older than rocks, but I’m allowed to care about how I look.”

Nobunaga

"Washing is an option, yk?" "I know that," he mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. He shivers slightly under your palm, his body as sensitive to your touch as a rose to sunlight. "I've been busy," he clarifies as you play with his hair, trying to come up with a good reason to escape your chiding. "I don't have time to bathe, is all."  He lets out a sigh, leaning into your touch like a kitten against a hand.

"And it's not that bad," he says, though his voice falters slightly— he knows he's lying. "Yeah sure." You smirk. "I've been sweating!" Nobunaga protests, as if that will solve everything.

"That's not my fault." He mutters, but when you tug lightly on his hair, he shivers again. "Relax." You calm him down. "I can't relax," he hisses, his eyes snapping open to glare up at you. "Not when you're—" He cuts himself off, his gaze suddenly shifting away as his cheeks flush. "I'll wash it for you later, okay?" taking care of a mess like this men is actually fun activities in your book. Especially when you can see him flustered. It takes a moment for his brain to process your words.

Nobunaga blinks, lifting his head from your hand to stare up at you, his mouth falling open.

"You—" a beat, "—you'll wash my hair?" You can practically see the smoke coming from his head. Nobunaga blinks, once, his mouth slowly falling open again as he processes what you'd said. His throat works silently as he grapples with the situation.

"You…" the word comes out faint, almost a whisper, as he tries to grasp what you're offering. "You'd… wash my hair?" he finally manages to get out, his face already starting to tint pink. "Yes?" "I—" he starts, hesitating as he tries to form a sentence, his thoughts flying to every possible meaning and implication of your words. Finally, after a moment of silence, his face completely flushed red, he manages to utter a response.

"I'd like that," he whispers, voice barely more than a sigh, though his words speak volumes as to how badly he wants you to do this.

Pariston

"It's so smooth?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. With all the products he uses you were almost sure his hair was like hay. He leans into your fingers, closing his eyes, a satisfied hum escaping his lips.

"Of course it is," he mumbles back, pride and arrogance dripping from every word. "After all," he continues. "I keep it that way for you. Gotta look good for my girl." His head tilts into your hand, seeking more of your touch. You can't help but roll your eyes at him. "What?" Pariston asks, his eyes opening. He lifts his head just to look at you, a single eyebrow raised.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, I'm being sincere," he says, tone a mix of amusement and mock-offence. "Since when." "Oh, always." He says, sitting up a little straighter. He leans back on one of his hands and grins. "You just don't notice because you never pay attention to me," he retorts. "I think..." He speaks slowly, fingers dancing over the top your other hand. "I think you're just cruel to me. That's what it is," he says decisively.

"You have no idea," he continues, his tone going from teasing to serious for a moment, "how much I adore you, and yet you treat me so callously." He fake pouts, a frown on his face, but you can see his eyes are dancing with mischief. "It's very insensitive of you." He admonishes you, his fingers moving over your skin.

"You should feel very guilty for treating the person who loves you more than anything like this," he admonishes, though there is a hint of a smile on his lips.

"And the person that finances your very being."

Phinks

"No," Phinks insists, pulling a little away from you. He scowls, crossing his arms at his chest. "Just… No." He won't let you ruffle his golden locks. "Why?" You whine slightly. "I don't want you to ruin it," he protests, running his fingers over his hair. He glares at you as his perfectly styled locks get mussed. "It takes hours to make it look good." Phinks frowns, his hair tousled from your touch. He combs his fingers through the messy blonde strands, trying in vain to return them to some semblance of order.

"I don't understand why you always have to touch my hair," he complains. "You're just like a child, always grasping at what the world has to offer without regard to the consequences," he says, still combing through his hair and trying to keep it away from you. "You have the impulse control of a three-year-old."

"But you love me." You smile innocently. Phinks can't help but soften a little at your words. He lets out a huff, his shoulders slumping as he gives up on his hair. He can never resist you.

"Yes, I love you," he admits, running a hand through his hair one last time. "Now, don't ruin my hair or I'll punish you." He doesn't sound all that threatening. In fact, you can imagine a hint of a smile flickering at his lips as he glares at you.

"If you make me look awful, there will be consequences," he says, though you suspect he's more likely to give you a kiss than actually punish you. He lets out a quiet sigh, running his hand through his tousled hair one final time before admitting defeat. He's fighting a losing battle— his hair is messy and sticking up at all sorts of ungraceful angles, and he's only going to undo any progress he makes by touching it. With a huff, he gives up, looking back at you.

"You're going to be the death of me one of these days, you know that?"

Pokkle

Every time you even think of coming near his hair, he looks up at you like a frightened doe. "I'll bite your hand, you know," he adds, though it is a very empty threat. "Why not? Shy?" You tease. "I–It's a mess." Pokkle protests, lifting a hand up and attempting to tame some of the messy locks of messy hair. He quickly gets frustrated however, huffing as it just flies right back in his face. "Besides… You'll mess it up…" "Can I at least brush it? Make it better?" Pokkle bites the inside of his cheek, looking down as if contemplating.

He remains like that for a few moments, thinking it over. He can't deny he wants you to touch his hair. That much is obvious. He's simply very stubborn, and won't say it.

He mumbles something under his breath that sounds vaguely like a reluctant yes. He turns around, presenting his back to you. His hair hangs messily over his shoulders.

His spine is ramrod straight, almost painfully so, and he’s clearly trying not to look over his shoulder at you. He's expecting his hair to be pulled, not brushed. He stays completely silent once you begin to brush his hair. He is still as stone, like a statue, but you can almost hear the sound of his mind racing even when you touch the brush to his hair.

He doesn’t look at you the entire time. In fact, he appears to be trying so desperately not to look at you that it’s like he’s fighting a losing battle with himself.

"Good?" Pokkle is quiet for a few seconds. He seems to have to collect himself, closing his eyes in an attempt to process what's just happened.

Finally, he nods, answering your question in a single word. "Good."

Razor

Razor doesn't question your request for a moment. If you want to, he will allow it. His head dips down, allowing you better access.

"You may. It's yours." "...its so short." you mumble. "I never let it grow." Razor responds, then lets out a quiet little hum as you play with the strands of his hair. It is indeed short, just barely long enough to play with. His neck twists a little, tilting to the side as you ruffle his hair. Razor is surprisingly pliant at your ministrations.

"You like to play with it, I take it?" He asks, a touch of amusement in his tone. "Meh, it's alright." Razor lets out a quiet scoff, the corner of his lips twitching.

"Only 'alright'," he mutters, but there's a hint of a smile in his words. "Just say you like it." He leans closer to you, head tilting down to look at you. "I know you like it," he teases, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You love to play with this short hair. Admit it."

"Hmm,...no." Razor snorts. "Why not?" He murmurs, leaning in a little more, so his head is resting against your leg. "It's short and soft. I can tell you like it, don't lie." Razor lets out another quiet scoff, though it is not meant as rude. He is too comfortable to care how he sounds. "Your hand is still in my hair," he whispers, tilting his head a little more to give you better access.

"Admit it, you like it." He smirks.

Shaiapouf

Shaiapoufs head is leaned against you, his eyes closed as your fingers run through his golden locks. He shudders at your touch, a low hum of satisfaction rumbling in his chest like a distant storm. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he finally opens his eyes and speaks.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice heavy with exhaustion and contentment. "Hmm, nothing." Shaiapouf raises an eyebrow, glancing up at you from his place beside you. He smiles a little mischievously as he leans into your touch. "Just playing with my hair for no reason, then?" He teases. Even through the weariness in his voice, there's a hint of mirth there, like he wants to see how you'll respond. "Yeah." "Liar,"

He laughs, reaching up and grabbing your wrist, moving you hand back to his hair. He gently guides your fingers through his locks once again, his eyes closing, a soft sigh falling from his lips. "You just want an excuse to touch me, don't you?" Shaiapouf rolls over, laying himself against your side, head resting on your shoulder, his body pressed against you like a shadow.

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling himself close. "Gods, you're warm." He mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Shaiapouf hums contentedly as he cuddles against you, feeling the heat of your body seeping into his skin. He pulls you closer, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly.

"You're soft," he murmurs, his breath warm and ticklish against your cheek. "So soft..."

Shalnark

The feeling of you sitting in his lap makes Shalnark hyper aware of you. He tries to stay focused on the computer screen, he really does, but it’s hard to when you’re playing with his hair.  “What are you doing…?” He asks, swallowing thickly as his eyes dart from the computer to your hand in his hair. "Playing, like you." You mumble, keep playing. He lets out a slight huff, but there’s no annoyance in it.

“Are you trying to make it difficult for me to concentrate?” He asks, giving you a light smirk. “Not that I would want you to stop,” he adds as an afterthought, his voice growing softer.

Despite his words, Shalnark still continues to try and focus on the computer screen rather than on how it feels when your fingers glide through his hair. After a few moments, it becomes too distracting. Shalnark lets out a small huff, his fingers resting on the keyboard, unmoving. He turns his head a bit to look at you. A light flush has dusted his cheeks; his gaze almost seems a bit petulant, but there’s no real annoyance in it.

“You are doing this on purpose.” "Noooo." Shalnark gives you an unconvinced look.

“Liar.” He mumbles, tilting his head back a bit. The bare expanse of his neck shines in the cold light of the computer screen. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a soft sigh as he feels your fingers running through his hair again.

“I know you’re too smart to do this unintentionally.”  Despite his words, he can’t hide the way he relaxes with your hand on him.

Shoot

Shoots eyes slip shut as you touch his hair. It's been a long time since he's felt the gentle caress of your fingers against his scalp. You would think this would be enough to soothe him, but his chest still rises and falls quickly, his breaths uneven and choppy in his chest.

"Thank you," he stutters, trying to control his breathing. "Your touch feels like paradise," he whispers, almost so quiet you can't hear it.

"Missed it?" You laugh as you keep braiding his hair. He nods, feeling the gentle tug of your fingers on his hair. Shoot opens his eyes and looks up at you, his gaze unfocused. His head is foggy and hazy, his mind slipping away as you continue to braid his hair. "Yes," he admits, voice quiet.

"Yes, I missed it." "So...the mission?" Shoots expression darkens a little when you mention the mission. The mere mention of those words turns his mind to memories he would rather forget. "It was complicated," he confesses, watching your fingers move through his hair. "The mission…"

He pauses, his eyes growing a little distant. "...It did not go as well as planned." "...oh." "It was…" He falters. Something in Shoot shifts, a change in the air; as if the very atmosphere around him has grown darker. His mind drifts back to the mission, replaying the events of the past few days.

"There were... issues," he states, trying to keep his voice steady. "Obstacles. Setbacks. It was not the success we were hoping for."

Uvogin

Uvogin ducks his head to avoid the brush once again, a quiet scoff leaving him.

"I can brush it myself," he mutters, and reaches up. His hair is tangled and messy after spending most of the day without his hair being brushed — but he doesn't like having others run their hands through his hair for him. He can do it himself.  "Do you even know what a brush is?" you ask as a joke. Uvogin narrows his eyes at the words, a quiet huff leaving him.

"Of course I know what a brush is," he says, and snatches the hairbrush from you, holding it with an almost possessive grip. "I'm not an animal." Uvogin mutters something to himself— probably something about you being annoying— but he sits down and starts to run the brush through his long locks.

He looks like he is struggling. A lot. But he won't ask for your help. His pride won't allow it. "I can he-" "No."It's a short, quick answer. Uvogin immediately shuts down any offer you may have had before you can even finish speaking. He's stubborn, and he doesn't want to ask for your help— even though he very clearly needs it.

It's a sight to behold, the brush sticking in his hair and him struggling to brush it through. You walk up and hug his back. Uvogin stiffens at your sudden embrace, but he doesn't try to push you away. He continues to struggle with the brush, until he finally— begrudgingly— lowers his hands.

"Fine," he says, and it's clear it pains him to admit defeat. "You can do it."

Wing

Wing practically melts under your touch. His head rests against you like a pillow, and he hums in contentment as you play with his hair. He is warm, his chest rising and falling in a deep, even rhythm. "Tough day?" A heavy sigh escapes Wing. He nods, just a fraction, his face pressed into your chest.

"Yes." His voice is quiet, almost as if he doesn’t want to speak too loudly, in case it breaks this perfect moment. He pauses, hesitating, his eyes closing as he listens to your heartbeat.

"You make it better," he confesses, the words whispered into your skin like a secret. His breath is gentle, a soft sigh falling from his lips as he relishes being this close to you. After a few moments, he shifts, wrapping his arms around your waist in a hug, and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"Being with you is my favorite part of the day," he admits quietly, breathing deeply of your scent. "Then I'm glad..." Wing nods his head, nuzzling into your chest a little more. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice barely loud enough for even you to hear. His body is flush with yours, his chest pressed against you. Every breath he takes, every rise and fall of his rib cage, you can feel against your own skin. Wings arms gently tighten around you, his grip almost desperate, like he’d die if he was torn away from you. "Love you too..." Wings hold on you tightens when you return the sentiment. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and lets out a shaky breath.

“Say it again,” he whispers, a hint of pleading in his tone. The words are uttered as a near demand.

Forgot to answer it like an idiot omfg

[brandoscomet]

Hii could u do an illumi x reader college/uni au !

Absolutely, thank you for requesting! Sorry this is so short, i’m absolutely SWAMPED with schoolwork and am currently alternating between writing fics and doing my assignments :, )

——————————————————

Lovestruck — Illumi Zoldyck x reader (college/university AU)

You never thought you’d be stuck in the cliché “crush on your tutor” situation, yet here you were. Sitting at one of the small tables in the corner of the University library with the top student in your grade, you found yourself lost in thought, not thinking before you speak.

——————————————————

“Sorry I’m late!” you apologized, setting your stuff down on the corner-most table in the library. Taking your notebook and textbook out of your bag in a hurry, you plop down in your seat. “It’s okay, Y/N. I appreciate the apology, though.” Answered the lean, black-haired boy sitting next to you, with a blank, yet inviting, look on his face. You weren’t exactly sure why, but the way his sharp, pale features looked in the warm, dim light of the library made your heart race. You’d known him since freshman year of high school, but recently found yourself developing feelings for him nearly 4 years later, after you both were accepted into the same prestigious university. “Okay, Illumi,” you began, “the test coming up in chem…. I’m not really understanding what’s going on. I asked you to meet up here to see if you could help..?”

“Ahh, okay, I see. Yeah, what do you need help with?” He asked. You answered, “I missed a couple days of class last week, ‘cause I wasn’t feeling well. Can you fill me in on what we learned?”

He responded with, “Yeah, did you bring your textbook?” You nodded, pushing it over to him. He opened the chemistry textbook, flipping through to get to the right page number. He leaned in, closing most of the gap between the two of you so you both could properly see the small text on the pages as he began repeating what your professor had explained. At first, your eyes were fixated on the page and you were actually paying attention to what he was saying. After a few minutes, though, you realized just how little space was between you and Illumi. Your legs were almost touching, and you could smell his fancy cologne mingle with the scent of old paper. His face was probably a little bit less than a foot away from yours, and in that moment, he completely lost you. He was explaining the chemistry lessons you missed, and you were instead focused on his silky, pin-straight hair and the smooth way his voice sounded when he talked quietly, rather than what he was actually saying. Lost in your thoughts, you failed to realize you were staring straight into the side of his head as he wrote things down or pointed at diagrams in the textbook. After about five minutes, he finally looked up, his dull and empty eyes meeting yours. “Y/N, are you understanding any of this?” He asked.

You didn’t respond, still lost in your own head.

You finally responded when he asked, “are you going to pay attention, or are you just going to keep staring off into space?”

“Sorry, you just look really good in this light— I cant stop staring at you.”

Wait, what did you just say? Why did you say that? What were you thinking? Before you could even think about what you were saying, the words spilled out of your mouth, unfiltered and uncontrolled. It finally hit you, the realization that you’d said that out loud. He blinked back at you, a very faint look of surprise on his face.

And that’s when you noticed it. A pink blush creeping up onto his pale skin. He didn’t know what to say, swallowing and willing out an, “oh, thank you, Y/N, you look rather nice, too..”

Was he freaking out internally, too? You doubted it. You didn’t even think he was capable of feeling that way. But here he was, the top student, who rarely expressed emotion, blushing and at a loss for words, still sitting wayyyy too close for comfort.

“Do you want to go out for lunch after this? I’ll pay.”

You swallowed, excitement and anxiety swirling inside your head. “Like.. a date?”

“Yeah. Like a date. If that’s what you want it to be.” He seemed nervous, which was super out of left-field for him. You’d never seen Illumi anxious about anything, so you figured he must really, really like you if asking you out made him nervous.

You looked into his eyes for a minute, studying his expression. God, was he beautiful. You couldn’t help the huge smile plastered across your face when you told him you would love to go on a date with him. When you told him, you caught a small upturn at the corners of his lips. You just wished this study session would be over with already, barely able to focus with the excitement of your newfound reciprocated feelings.

“So, the difference between ionic and covalent bonds……..”

——————————————————

[hopesangelsprite]

Finders Keepers

Synopsis: Illumi's been tasked to take out a rival family, leaving no survivors, and that's exactly what he does... with the exception of you.

Warnings: Dubcon/noncon, Unprotected p in v, Overstim, Dacryphilia, Light choking, Creampie (this is Illumi what'd you expect-), analifyousquint, fingering, mentions of bl00d

MINORS/AGELESS ACC DNI

Thunder rumbled in the distance, a telltale sign of the impending storm on the horizon. The wind was chilled and heavy with the smell of earth and smoke as Illumi watched. Below him was a compound, an estate of sorts, under the protection of a dozen armed guards. Past its walls he could see maids and servants busy with daily tasks, too caught up in the hustle and bustle of life to sense neither him nor the storm coming.

Though he couldn't see them, he knew that deeper inside the compound were his targets. It wasn't often his family attacked other families, getting by with sheer intimidation and wealth. Still, when rival families got out of line... they had to be dealt with accordingly. Thunder rumbled once more, this time closer, and Illumi stood from his perch on a high oak branch. This wouldn't take nearly as long as he thought it would.

Dealing with the first wave of guards was less than anticlimactic, each falling quicker than the last. The second wave was able to get a few shots off before they too succumbed to his needles. Illumi placed a hand on the main gate and pushed sending the heavy steel doors flying off their hinges. The screams and squelches of people being crushed met his ears as he made quick work of the servants outside, as well.

The stench of blood, death, and rain was thick in the air as he entered the estate's front doors. Illumi made his way through its walls, killing everyone he found as he traversed floor after floor. Finally, he reached the master bedroom, kicking past its weakly barricaded door, and stared into the terror-filled eyes of the last four living people in the house. "Consider me your reckoning.", he mused as he stepped into the room and began picking them off until no one was left.

He looked around at the carnage around him and sighed. The rain would be coming soon, and he wanted to be home by then. He turned to leave the room but stilled as sound met his ears. Illumi turned and scanned the room's interior, sure that no one he'd confronted had survived the massacre. Illumi spotted the cracked-open wardrobe almost immediately and rolled his eyes. He'd missed one.

He took several steps toward the wardrobe before it burst open, your teary-eyed figure pushing past him toward the open door. Illumi reached and grasped a handful of your hair before taking in your features. You were small, not much younger than him. Though you bore a striking resemblance to the older man and woman he'd just killed, his intel hadn't alluded to either of them having children.

Upon further inspection, he found you healthy-looking; a tad on the heavier side with plush thighs, your soft breasts heaving with every sob that shook your frame. You were quite attractive aside from how bloodshot your eyes were becoming as you begged him to spare you. It didn't sound like a bad idea the more Illumi looked you over. So, he slung you over his shoulder, advising you to keep your eyes shut as he stepped onto the bedroom's balcony.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You trembled as you crossed the threshold of the Zoldyck estate in Illumi's arms, eyes screwed shut in fear as he took you deeper into the mansion. You didn't bother trying to remember how many turns you were taking; it was becoming increasingly clear that you wouldn't be leaving alive. You only allowed your eyes to flutter open as the two of you entered a room, the door locking behind you.

Illumi sat you on the edge of a large bed, uncharacteristically gentle considering how brutally he'd ended the lives of those you loved minutes prior. "You've two choices: accept me voluntarily or involuntarily.", he offered as he let his blood-soaked top drop to the floor near the edge of the bed, "You'll find I'm much more agreeable should you choose the former.".

His belt and trousers dropped to the floor leaving him only in his underwear. Your face grew hot at the sight, your hands trembling at the weight of his words. Fighting would wax futile; you knew that well enough. Cold fingertips met your cheek and tilted your face toward his. A few more tears slipped from your eyes as you weakly clasped his wrist. "Please... don't d-do this.", you pleaded once more before Illumi leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle.", he hummed into your skin as leaned in more, caging you underneath him. His lips felt icy as they trailed across the expanse of your skin, stopping at your lips. You whimpered and Illumi swallowed the sound. You reciprocated his movements sloppily, unfamiliar with the motions. The kiss broke, a trail of saliva connecting your lips which he broke with a swipe of his thumb. "How cute.", he breathed into your skin as he began marking a fiery trail down your throat.

As he traveled lower, you clenched your teeth in hopes of silencing the tiny moans building in your throat. Illumi took a break from his attack on your breasts to look over your dress. "There's no use in trying to keep quiet, you'll only tire yourself out.", he mused as he tugged harshly on the fabric causing it to rip. Your bottom lip trembled at the sight of what was left of your favorite sundress fall to the floor, and Illumi noticed. "My apologies, little dove. I'll have you a boutiques worth of dresses here in the morning if you're good for me.", he explained as he rid you of your undergarments leaving you bare.

Your eyes flickered up to his face as he placed butterfly kisses down the expanse of your stomach, eyes dark with lust as they met yours. So, this was your life now. "P-promise?", you asked as your heart began to settle. Illumi rose and placed both hands on your thighs, pulling you until your bare core was flushed with his clothed member. He hummed as he leaned down, bracing himself on one forearm and slipping the other between the two of you to slide between your moistening folds. "I promise.", he assured you as two of his fingers scissored open your entrance, his thumb working over your bud with expert skill.

A broken whimper left you as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure, as you let yourself succumb to fate. Your body trembled as his ministrations quickened, a knot forming in the pit of your abdomen. Everything was so wrong, yet it felt so, so good.

Just as the knot within you came close to snapping, Illumi pulled his fingers from you. You whined in frustration as you watched him clean your slick from his fingers with his tongue before beginning to remove his underwear. You watched in awe and terror as his cock sprang free, tip flushed pink and dripping with his own arousal. He was just as pale there as the rest of his body, a bit longer than he was girthy. "That's n-not gonna fit...", you whispered into the air between you. For the first time since he'd taken you, he cracked a smile. "We'll make it fit, little dove.", he replied while easing you onto your stomach.

Illumi's lips met your shoulder, cold and soft, and traveled down your back causing you to shiver. He shifted a bit, resting his chin in the nook between your shoulder and neck. "This might sting a bit, for that I offer my apologies.", he warned as you felt his tip catch on your entrance. Your breath hitched as he rolled his hip forward, allowing the first few inches to slip inside you.

He was lying when he said it'd sting a bit. It hurt like hell. You yelped and pushed your face into one of the plush pillows beneath you to muffle the sound. Illumi cooed and whispered praises into your skin, voice laden with sympathy as he continued to fill you. He rolled his hips once more filling you up fully, his tip threatening to push past your cervix.

"Such a good girl taking all of me.", he purred as you lifted your teary eyes from the pillows, "Now, let me take the pain away.". With one hand, Illumi laced his fingers with yours while the other reached between you to resume abusing your clit. His pelvis retreated from the swell of your ass, all of him leaving your walls apart from his leaky head, before thrusting forward again slow and deep. The moan that left you would've made even the finest of whores blush.

His hips rolled on, the room filling with the obscene sound of your slick coating his cock and your little whimpers as the pain was swiftly washed away with mind-numbing pleasure. Illumi continued to praise you between quieter moans of his own only stopping to tug at the shell of your ear with his teeth.

The intimacy, the steady pace of his body colliding with yours; All of it was becoming too much for you to handle. Illumi shifted, his tip kissing your cervix too suddenly for your liking drawing a gasp of discomfort from your trembling lips. He hummed and abandoned your clit to steady himself before rising with you in tow. You yelped and scrambled to your elbows when you felt the pad of his thumb swipe over your ass, thrusts gaining in speed. "N-not there-", you tried to reason with him before your jaw slackened upon the foreign intrusion.

Your thighs shook, threatening to give out, as Illumi hooked his thumb into your spasming hole up to the first knuckle. Heat crept across your body at the feeling of the knot in the pit of your stomach snapping. "Coming already? Who knew my pretty girl was so perverted. ~", Illumi groaned. His words fell upon deaf ears, your mind blank and full simultaneously. You buried your face into the sheets beneath in a weak attempt to save face, orgasm taking you forcefully.

The walls of your cunt fluttered, painting his lower half with your arousal. Illumi hissed, thrusts growing sloppy, at the sight and grasped at the fat of your ass. "Look at that pretty little cunt of yours. Almost like she wants me to fill her up.", he practically mewled, "Isn't that right, little dove?". All you could do was cry out in response, thoughts occupied with the delicious drag and sting of his cock inside you. Illumi huffed at your lack of response, hand abandoning your ass cheek for the column of your neck and squeezed.

"I asked if you wanted me to paint your walls white, dove, now answer like the obedient little wife you're going to be.", he hissed into your ear. You nodded vehemently, head light from the lack of hair. "Yes, please cum in me! Please please please-", you babbled as another orgasm ignited your overstimulated core. A string of wild curses and strangled moans fell from Illumi's lips as his hips snapped forward once more, locking as hot ropes of cum filled your sputtering hole.

A few moments passed as both of you came down, your smaller body trembling, before Illumi relaxed and pulled both of you down to the mattress. You shifted and shuttered at the feeling of still being full while listening to his breathing. "I'll have a ring and paperwork ready for you by noon, so I suggest you get some rest.", he hummed whilst pulling the sheets over your bodies,

"Besides, I need you fully rested and ready to take me in the morning."

[mereniss]

PUSSY KILLING

≡;- ꒰ °Illumi Zoldyck x f!Reader ꒱

⋆˙⟡ — SUMMARY: illumi saves your life and then you have sex with him on your couch.

⋆˙⟡ — tw + info: 18+, MINORS DNI!, smut!, author doesn’t know how to write smut, reader is very nice, illumi is weird, both characters are over 18, illumi lowkey has a crush on reader, no beta + proofreading, missionary, mentions of alcohol, reader almost is SA’d (not by Illumi), reader is drunk, illumi is dry, illumi has a fat c#ck, the end was inspired by something i read on ao3 ; unfortunately i cant find it, also illumi is ooc.

wc: ~2000

The morning rush exploded York New City with life. Men and women raced to work, knowing they would be late if they didn’t pick up the pace. Students trudged to school, complaining about the homework they were assigned the night before. Businessmen took sips of their coffee, while standing above and watching tourists marvel at every skyscraper they see.

Illumi had just finished business with a client. He walked across the street, keeping pace with the salary workers rushing into their offices. He stopped at a crosswalk, taxis drove past, along with buses filled with people.

Standing next to him was a girl who was heavily engrossed with something on her phone. He looked to his left, a car speeding to get to the green light, the traffic light turned orange but the car showed no sign of slowing down. You looked up, the pedestrian signal turned green, looking back to your phone, you almost took a step until hard force pulled you back, making you drop your phone. A car rushed past where you would’ve been a second ago, if it weren’t for someone pulling you away.

You looked around, your heart racing and in shock. Relief flooding through you, knowing that you would be dead right now if it wasn’t for the fact that someone saved you.

Illumi bent down and picked up your phone. “You dropped this.” He says, you didn’t even notice that it was gone, “Be careful.” His gaze lingering on your figure.

You nodded, grabbing his hand, “Are you doing anything right now?”

He tilted his head, confused, “No?” To his surprise, you dragged him to a small cafe that was on just a few feet away. You pointed to a table near the window, gesturing him to sit there, while you ordered something at the counter. The cafe was small, five tables in total, there was one customer sitting at a table across from the window.

“I ordered my favorite drink for you! You beamed, a smile on your pretty face, “I hope you’re not allergic to anything…”

“I’m not.” Illumi assured you. Illumi never had any allergies, and if you secretly poisoned his drink, he would be able to withstand it. “What did you order?”

“Ill show you later!” You say, “Anyways, I just wanted to thank you for saving my life! I was watching a video on my phone, I guess I got too sucked in…”

“An order for Y/n!” Behind the counter, the barista called out. You got up and hurried to get the drinks. The barista looked a little annoyed, probably because a man just let a girl pay for his drinks, but its not his fault. Illumi didn’t even get a warning before you dragged him in here.

“This is my favorite drink ever!” You giggle, “Iced Lavender latte with oat milk and a pump of honey!” You looked at him eagerly, waiting for him to try the drink. He examined the cup, soon taking a sip. Before he could say anything you got up, thanking him again for his help, and you zoomed out of the cafe. You even left your drink.

The next day Illumi found himself walking the same street at the same time he did the day before. His client from yesterday had commissioned him for another assassination, something Illumi didn’t think twice about before accepting. He scanned the sea of faces, thinking that he might see you again—but to no avail, he couldn’t spot you amongst the crowd. Illumi wasn’t hoping to see you, but it would be amusing if the same thing from yesterday were to happen again.

“Savior!” You squealed, tugging at his sleeve. You then looked around and noticed people glance up from their phones to see what the commotion was about. Clearly embarrassed, you leaned in, now talking quietly, “Are you busy right now?” You ask, your voice just loud enough for him to hear.

“No, why do you ask—.” Before he could finish, you grabbed his arm, dragging him to a different cafe. This cafe was a lot bigger, more people hanging out with their friends, or studying.

“Can I have two red velvet hot chocolates please?” You say to the barista who immediately notes your order. You scrounged your wallet for your card, looking up to see that Illumi had already paid for your drinks. “I was going to pay..” You frown.

“No need, you paid yesterday.” Illumi says, his voice low, as he walked you to an empty table.

You sigh, “Sorry I had to leave so suddenly… I had a lecture that I couldn’t miss.” You finished, waiting for him to say something. “Anyways, I totally forgot to introduce myself yesterday! My name is Y/n and i’m 18 years old.” You smiled, “And you..?”

“Illumi, and i’m eighteen.” He says, “Are you a college student?” Of course, he knew the answer, it was obvious.

“Yeah! I go to Coolumbia, chemistry major…” You say, nervously, “I promise, i’m not boring!” On the other side of the cafe, the barista called out your name, you scurried out of your seat.

“This is the best hot chocolate in the city!” You giggled, handing him the drink. “Do you go to college here too?”

“I don’t go to college.” Illumi responded, he didn’t say anything after which was kind of awkward.

“Sooo, “ You start, trying to break the silence, “are you here on vacation?”

“No.” Illumi replied, “I had work here.”

“Woah really? What do you do for work?” Illumi doesn’t respond and takes a sip of the hot chocolate. You guessed that he wasn’t comfortable telling you. “Do you like the hot chocolate?”

“No, too sweet.”

“What about yesterday’s drink?”

“No, too bitter.”

“Ok, what do you like?” To be honest, you were starting to get annoyed, unfortunately, pretty privilege is real, and Illumi is pretty. He had short black hair, almond eyes, and the prettiest pale skin. He was wearing a hoodie, but you could tell that he had a nice build under there. Illumi stayed silent, not answering your question. “Can I have your Genmo?—y’know, for the drinks and stuff…”

“No, I don’t mind paying.”

You looked at him, a bit upset, “Oh…” You tried turning on your phone—it was dead, “Oh look at that! The time! I gotta go!”

Illumi watched you scurry out of the cafe, leaving him alone with only the memory of you.

You looked annoyed, he knew you were, he just didn’t know what to say to you. He doesn’t even know why he saved you from that car. If it were any other person, he would’ve let it happen.

Illumi didn’t sound or look it, but he was nervous. By definition, it was impossible. If his mother knew, she would have a heart attack, and his father would make fun of him hours.

It was night, the street lights were flickering, and the liveliness of the city faded as the sun set. The nightlife was still alive, as people carpooled in rented fancy cars to go to clubs or expensive restaurants—but that was earlier in the night, and would soon start up again in a few hours.

The rain didn’t help either, it poured as if it’s a broken faucet thats about to overflow a sink. The night was still quiet, aside from the occasional car or a drunkard dragging themselves along a wall, trying to get home or to another bar.

“I told you to stop following me!” A voice? It seemed familiar, so he decided to investigate.

“Ahh~ C’mon baby~” A man slurred, “J-just a kiss~ Mmm, okay~? Just for dad-“

You interrupted him, “Ew! I told you to go away!” The man now cornered you into a wall, rubbing his hands together, “S-stay back!”

Suddenly, the strange man passed out on the concrete, you looked around to see a familiar figure standing next to the now blacked out man.

“Ilumi??” You stutter, “What are you doing here?”

“I was passing by the area.” He replied, “Are you okay?”

You smiled awkwardly, “Yeah, I was about to pepper spray him… and pepper spray stinks.”

“It’s cold.” Illumi says, his eyeing your body. “You should get home.” You were wearing a beaded embroidered dress that imitated the night sky. The dress was short with a slip on your upper thigh, and beaded fairies sewed throughout the dress.

“Y’know—“ You got up on your tippy toes, looking at him with doe eyes, “I don’t live far from here.” Now, it was obvious that you were a bit tipsy, “If you want, you could warm up at my place…”

Illumi stayed quiet for a moment, you stared at him, waiting for an answer, “Alright.” With that, you grabbed his hand, dragging him to your apartment.

“Why are you always so dryyy!” You whined, “God, you’re so sexy, especially when you’re soaking wet!” Illumi stayed quiet, slightly amused.

“Geez! Why arent you saying anything!” You groaned, entering your apartment building. The lobby was small, a sleeping doorman at the front, and mailboxes at the bottom. You lead him up 7 flights of stairs until you made it to your apartment.

As soon as the door closed, you and Illumi were right on top of each other. He quickly ripped your dress, you removed his shirt, and he finally unbuckled his belt. He pushed you on your couch, straddling himself on top of you. Illumi pushed your legs into your chest and then removed his boxers, letting his rock hard cock spring out from the trenches.

Your eyes dilated when comprehending the size of the thing, “It’s too big… won’t fit…”

“I’ll make it fit.” Illumi slid his fat cock in your thick folds. You were so wet it was able to go in so easily, practically drowning.

You gasped at the sudden movement, the pain turned into pleasure as a moan echoed throughout the apartment. Illumi slowly thrusted into you, each motion faster than the last—going in deeper and deeper, your cunt swallowed him whole. Illumi was never one for noise, but right now, he couldn’t help but pant after every thrust, even making small grunts every now and then.

But you were a whole different story, you were a moaning mess under him. Your mascara bled as tears fell from your eyes, telling Illumi to go faster, go harder. Your nails dug into his back, as your pussy clenched around his dick, now hes just fucking you stupidly.

“I-Illumi…” You moan as he slams his cock inside of you, your gummy walls attempting to milk him for his cum. Your half-lidded stare watched the place where your body’s connected and to illumi’s toned torso, and then his biceps.

His cock was no swollen, stretching your walls even wider than before, your pussy lips throbbed as you felt yourself reach your climax. “Mmm—‘bout to cum…”

You latched onto him and then, your entire pussy consuming him. Eventually, the dam breaks. Toes curled, back arched, eyes rolled— you finished all over his dick.

But Illumi wasn’t over yet, he pounded even harder this time, even meaner than before, thrusting mindlessly with no regard for your wellbeing. He slowed down and finally, he pulled out, finishing on your stomach.

You panted profusely, looking him in the eye and noticing how he had a single drop of sweat on his forehead. Other than that, the guy was unfazed. Within mere seconds of your observations, you felt a little drowsy, passing out on the couch.

When you woke up the next morning, you felt a bit queasy. The events of the previous night played in fragments in your mind. You sat up, hoping to find a trace of the man.

Your eyes landed on the coffee table, noticing a single business card. His phone number was circled, with a small note next to it saying to call him.

Illumi Zoldyck

Professional Assassin

xxxx-xxxx-xxxx

[dark-konohagakure2]

Yandere Illumi x Dumb Little Sis Reader? Breeding Kink, (Little sweet?)

tw: incest, sibling incest, dubcon, yandere, infantilization, breeding, isolation, brainwashing, bimboification, mating press

All characters depicted are 18+

The words 'sweet' and 'Illumi' are two words that are never used in the same sentence by any sane individual, the man's face seems incapable of changing from it's impassive mask, let alone making a gentle expression, but none of those preconceptions about him are held by his dearest baby sister, who thinks the world of him.

His sister is such a silly little thing, acting like a little girl again whenever she's with her big brother, despite being much too old to act in such a way. Illumi finds it adorable, it's so cute how she acts so submissive around him, and it's even cuter how she is completely blissfully unaware of the helpful little needle implanted within her brain.

Illumi almost never smiles around anyone, unless its out of sadism, but his sister is the exception, the usually emotionless assassin is practically beaming whenever his sister snuggles up to him or when she starts crying and clinging to him whenever he leaves her side for longer than a few minutes.

He's especially content when his sister innocently begs for his attention, even wanting to sleep in the same bed as him almost every night, of course Illumi can't say no to his adorable baby sister, so he accepts her into his bed with open arms, as long as she's ready to accept him with open legs.

"Hmm? Oh fine, come here sissy... Your big brother needs some love and attention from his favorite baby sibling tonight..."

He's cold to the touch, both figuratively and literally, so his little sister will have to cling to him as her only source of warmth while he's pounding into her snug pussy, murmuring praises about how she's going to make a perfect Zoldyck assassin straight from her womb for the family.

Illumi isn't very sensitive at all, his sense of both pain and pleasure alike being dulled from a lifetime of torturous assassin training, so it'll take him a long while to climax. His dear sister is the opposite, squirming and whining in pleasure beneath him as she babbles on and on about how good it feels at how much she loves her Nii Nii. To say that he's fucking her dumb would be inaccurate, his sweet sister is already pretty stupid because of him, his dick just makes her even more of a bimbo.

Illumi is as precise with breeding her as he is with killing his targets, wanting to make sure that she's thoroughly impregnated. He'll have her pinned down in the mating press as his cock shoots load after load of his virile sperm into her fertile womb, not letting a single drop spill out and not stopping until he physically can't go on anymore, and being a Zoldyck means he can go for hours.

Another thing Illumi loves about fucking his own innocent sister is how clingy she gets even after he's been brutalizing her womb for the past hours, showering him with affection and praise even in her fucked out state. Illumi is sure to praise her right back, and provide her with as much affection as a deplorable man like himself can muster up.

"Good sissy... You were such a good girl taking all my cum like that. That's just one other reason why I love you so so much..."

And Illumi isn't lying when he says that. He truly and wholly loves his little sister with his entire depraved heart. It's clear to any sane person that his love is twisted and grotesque, but as long as she's a Zoldyck, she'll never get to meet anyone who is sane.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

HRHEH this sounds like a silly request buttt... Can you do a Hxh hcs react when Reader has a baby? (ANY CHARACTER IS FINE SINCE I ALWAYS SEE YOU DO HALF OF THE CHARACTERS)

NO REQUEST IS SILLY OR STUPID IN THIS HOUSEHOLD DONT U WORRY POOKIE SCHNIOKS

killua, kurapika, illumi, chrollo

(killua and kurapika are aged up!)

z. killua

- i hope we can all collectively agree that killua isn’t exactly father material

- he’s absolutely stiff when he sees the pregnancy test, blinking so many damn times with every single possible thought in the world running through his head

- he’s more worried than anything. what if illumi or his family comes after his child in hopes to groom and train them into an assassin as they had done with him?

- but all of his worries melt after the first time you do your ultrasound, where your baby is so extremely small and probably extremely fragile

- he’s definitely not a naturally good partner, but he’ll try his hardest to provide the happiest life he can for his child

k. kurapika

- is he father material? oh, 100%. most definitely so. but does he utilize it? hell no.

- now, kurapika isn’t upset that you’re pregnant. the opposite, really. he’s so unbelievably happy, but there’s just one teensy beensy tiny problem…

- he’s kinda sorta a mafia family leader who is still fuming with vengeance and emptiness, and he traded quite the number of years of his life to his nen ability.

- but really, he tries to do as much as he can for you and your unborn baby in the unknown amount of time that he has left. he overspends and overworks, but he doesn’t seem to care.

- he says that he doesn’t care about the baby’s gender, but he secretly really hopes that it’s a girl.

z. illumi

- honestly, the rest of his family members have more of a reaction that he does when they hear the news.

- yes, he’ll certainly love his child. hell, out of everyone on this list, he probably loves his child the most. but how does he express it without his kid running away from the training like killua did?

- his mom is ecstatic, his dad grumbling his congratulatory words, milluki is in shock that illumi even managed to rizz you up in the first place, killua is in shock that illumi ever even got married, alluka is excited, and kalluto is confused.

- illumi is actually very happy, although you can’t see it on his face or reaction. at all.

- perhaps it’s about time he asked killua for some advice on how to not have his kid run away from training.

l. chrollo

- definitely the most father material out of everyone here, i guarantee it. he utilizes it too.

- oh and i just know that this guy is RICH. you better expect to have the most luxurious and expensive life the moment he finds out that you’re pregnant.

- “he’s toxic and a yandere!” “he’d kidnap you!” yall need to stop mischaracterizing every single villain in existence. he’s literally the most gentle guy when you’re pregnant, always carrying your stuff no matter how heavy or light.

- he definitely books you appointments with the most expensive and skilled doctors. i can imagine him hiring random ass people to help you whenever he’s busy with a heist or heavens arena battle; he’s a floor master after all. on some random tuesday you’ll wake up and see a maid or a masseuse in your house attending to you.

- yall better stop mischaracterizing my glorious king chrollo because fuck no he’s not going to go all alpha and “if i cant have you no one can😈🤡” like where did that even come from😭

a/n: whew i haven’t written hxh stuff in a while, i hope it’s still ok. anyways i think yall can see the clear bias i have towards chrollo…

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Daytrip.

Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x Reader (Hunter x Hunter).

Word Count: 5.6k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Captivity, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Animal Death, Semi-Public Sex, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Isolation, and Stalking.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was, per usual, Illumi’s face.

His dark eyes wide and unblinking, his skin bloodlessly pale, his lips pulled into a thin, neutral line – and all of it no more than three inches away. You were too numb to his off-putting proximity to scream, but you flinched back into your pillow on instinct, and Illumi took the hint, lingering for another half second longer before drawing back. A few months ago, you might’ve scrambled away, barricaded yourself in the smallest corner of your lavish bedroom, but now, you only rolled onto your side, regarding him with the same exhausted resignation that you used to pay to your cat, when she woke you up three hours early for no other reason than her own selfish desire not to spend the small hours of the morning alone.

“What’s up?”

It might’ve been a little too casual of a greeting for your kidnapper, but he didn’t seem to mind. “There are clothes waiting for you on your vanity. The butlers will help you dress as soon as possible.”

 So this was going to be an out-of-bed thing, after all. Reluctantly, you started pushing yourself up. “Are we in a hurry for a reason, or…?”

There was a brief moment of consideration, then a resolute nod from Illumi. You let out an inward sigh. “Okay, whatever, that’s my fault. Why are we in a rush, ‘lumi?”

“I have something planned for the two of us.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought you saw his expression light up. “A daytrip, I believe.” And then, as if as an afterthought, “I’m very excited.”

Illumi’s excitement was normally something you tried to avoid, but your mind seemed to glaze over that and settle on the word ‘daytrip’ instead. Daytrips meant traveling. Daytrips meant activities.

Most pressingly, daytrips meant getting to leave the empty, lifeless, murderer-infested wasteland that was his family’s estate for the first time since he carried you through its gates. You knew better than to say that in as many words, though.

“And for this daytrip, we’ll be going…” You trailed off, gesturing in the direction you felt most strongly would lead back to civilization. “…out there?”

“We’ll be leaving the mountain, yes.”

“And we’ll be going place where other people are?”

“I suppose so, if it can’t be avoided.”

“And your family wasn’t involved with this at all?”

“They don’t think it’s right for you to be given so much freedom so quickly,” he explained. “I disagree. Even well-trained dogs have to be walked.”

For the first time ever, you had to resist the urge to kiss him.

Instead, you only let yourself smile, casting your sheets aside and settling for a brief but bone-crushing hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You pulled away abruptly, sliding off of the mattress. “I—I’ll get dressed!”

Illumi didn’t move, didn’t react, but his eyes followed you as you stumbled across the room – happier than you’d been in months.

~

A little less than an hour later, you were spread across Illumi’s lap in the back of a surprisingly conspicuous black car, the divider raised to block a faceless driver from view. It took a concerted amount of effort to keep your attention on anything but the window, but you managed, only sparing the occasional glance towards the passing scenery.

You watched the mountainside spiral downward as Illumi’s hands settled around your waist, measuring the widening gaps between dense patches of forestry as his mouth ghosted over the side of your neck. It’d always surprised you – how tactile he was, how someone so cold could be so fond of peppering feather-light kisses into your collarbones and groping at your thighs. It’d been weeks since the last time you tried to brush off his affection. As far as you were concerned, there were worse things he could do to you than mimic the behavior of a more conventional boyfriend.

(At some point, you’d come to think of Illumi as the unclimbable, unmovable, twenty-foot-tall wall that separated you from freedom. You didn’t like him, sure, but you had to recognize that on your own, you had no chance of getting past, over, or around him. If something happened to render him a little weaker, a little less tall, a little more susceptible to opening his gates, then things might change, but you couldn’t rely on elusive possibilities. The way you saw it, you could either waste your time trying to overcome an insurmountable obstacle, or you could save your energy and try to make things as pleasant on this side of the wall as was humanly possible, given your below-standard working conditions. Until you met someone willing to offer you a ladder, at least.)

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and your eyes flitted back to the window. You were passing buildings, now – houses and apartments, people dotted in front of them blurred mannequins. “Can you tell me where we’re going, or am I not supposed to know?”

He seemed to think for a second, but answered quickly enough. “Brunch, first,” he said, not bothering to pull away from you. “The rest is a surprise.”

You pursed your lips. You used to like surprises, but Illumi had managed to change a lot of things about you. “Is ‘the rest’ something I’ll like?”

 “It’s something you’ve been known to enjoy.”

It took everything you had not to roll your eyes. You’d been ‘known to enjoy’ a lot of things, most of which Illumi had taken away from you.

There was one more open-mouthed kiss pressed into your collarbone, one more stolen glance of the outside world, and then, the vehicle was easing to a steady halt in front of a rustic, almost quaint building. A café, you realized, as Illumi stepped out in front of you, holding the door open while you stared wide-eyed at the perfectly idyllic, perfectly normal restaurant. The cute type, with a triangular roof and a greenery-laden front porch and chipped paint on either side of the front door.

Subconsciously, some part of you must’ve decided that you’d never see anything more charming or more homey than the lifeless grounds of Illumi’s estate again. You opted not to linger on that, as you stepped out of the car.

The interior was similarly fairytale-esque. There weren’t any other customers or wait-staff, which you’d expected, but string lights hung from the rafters, fresh wildflowers sitting in pitchers on each table. Illumi let you choose where to sit, and you shot for a spot closest to the front windows – bay-style and freshly cleaned, the kind of thing you might’ve stared longingly out of while nursing an overpriced latte for the better part of an hour. Suit-clad butlers stood guard on either side of the door, but if you were lucky, you’d still be able to catch the occasional pedestrian walking by. You would’ve given anything to sit in a room filled to bursting with other people, but since you couldn’t have that, you’d settle for being able to watch a handful from a distance.

“You’re staring.”

“So?” You responded to Illumi without looking away. “You stare at me all the time.”

“That’s different. I have a reason to look at you.”

“Which is?”

“I love you.”

It might’ve been easier to believe if he hadn’t said it with all the warmth and all the affection of a corpse, already given time to cool.

You changed the topic swiftly.

“It’s a little nostalgic, honestly. I used to come to places like this all the time, especially before I made any friends in the city. It was nice to feel lonely in a aloof-and-mysterious kind of way, instead of an anti-social-and-depressed sort of way.”

“Oh, you were never really alone.” You didn’t say anything, but you made the mistake of shifting your gaze onto him, of spurring him forward with the reward of your attention. “It was a guilty pleasure of mine – spending time with you before we met. I preferred it when you sat outside. It was easier to smell your perfume, in the open air.”

You grit your teeth. It wasn’t the most disturbing thing he’d ever admitted, but it definitely made the list. “…I think I would’ve remembered sitting next to someone like you.”

If he’d been more expressive, you could’ve imagined him smirking. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

There was a brief lapse, a moment of uncertainty on your part. Finally, you asked, “Did I smell… nice?”

“Very.” Illumi didn’t share your sense of trepidation. “Like cinnamon.”

You hummed, and as if by magic, a waitress appeared from the door to an unseen kitchen – white knuckling her pen with one hand and driving her nails into her notepad with the other. She took your orders with a terrified sort of professionalism, and before you left, you convinced Illumi to give you all the cash he was carrying at the moment (a sum that easily added up to half a year’s worth of rent, handed over without so much as a passing question) and left it on the table for her to find.

~

Your second stop was as surprising as Illumi had promised. If anything, he’d undersold it.

If the quaintness of the café had been enough to throw you into a stupor, then the sheer scale of the building in front of you could’ve sent you to an early grave. A mall – a nice mall, either recently built or nestled so far into the upper-class shopping district that you never would’ve come across it organically, the type with glass where there should’ve been walls and a fountain without any coins at the bottom. You were tempted to try and pester loose change off of one of the butlers flanking you, but decided against it. The café, you could’ve stumbled into on your own, without Illumi’s intervention. It just didn’t feel right to leave a mark where you so obviously didn’t belong.

More similarly to the café, though, the inside of the shopping complex was startlingly empty. Butlers and hired security were posed in front of exits, but other than that, it wasn’t hard to believe that you and Illumi were the only people on the property. As soon as you were past the initial entryway, you ducked into the closest store – a high-end cosmetics retailer. The door was unlocked, but there was no cashier at the register. Like someone had already come through and cleared it out.

“This is some backrooms shit,” you mumbled to yourself, and then, to Illumi, ever-hovering just over your shoulder. “You didn’t… you know, do what you normally do to people you don’t like, right?”

“Are you asking me if I killed everyone in this shopping complex prior to our arrival?”

“Well, not everyone,” you clarified. “Maybe just the employees?”

He didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth turned ever-so-slightly upward, as if you’d said something funny. “No, that would’ve taken far too much time.” The unnecessary loss of life went unacknowledged. “The building’s rented out, and the stock’s been purchased in advance. You’re only deciding what you’d like to keep.”

Huh.

One day, you were going to sit him down and have a long, long talk about class privilege and resource waste. If you were feeling generous, you might even throw generational wealth onto the lecture, just to make sure he got the full picture.

One day, but not today.

“The third floor always has the best stores,” you said, turning on your heel and grabbing Illumi’s hand, too distracted to think anything of the gesture. “Let’s start there.”

You weaved in and out of stores with reckless abandon, hyper-aware that you had no one’s time to waste but your own. Essentials were overlooked entirely, makeup and self-care supplies limited to eyeshadow pallets with no less than several dozen eye bleeding colors and bath-bombs that were more glitter than pigment, and clothes made up the bulk of your adoration. Everything that wasn’t in your size had already been removed – something as worrying as it was convenient. The only thing you refused to try on was loungewear. It would’ve been practical, sure, but you didn’t need to be reminded that this was likely the last time you’d ever leave Illumi’s sprawling home.

“You know,” you called from a dressing room, pulling a gingham dress over your head. You couldn’t see Illumi, but you were sure he wasn’t far. He didn’t seem to have much of an interest in shopping, but his favorite hobby was looming over your shoulder like some blank-eyed, haphazardly domesticated bird of prey, so it balanced out. “If this had been our first date, I probably would’ve married you.

You heard him hum as a weight settled against the dressing room door. “I enjoyed our first date. It was endearing – how long you rested your head in my lap.”

“Well, yeah. The paralytics you used were so strong, I couldn’t move for three days.” You’d still lose feeling in your left arm, if you held it at the wrong angle. It reminded you a little of your cat, after she first came around to the idea of sitting in your lap. You’d been so afraid of scaring her off, you’d let your legs fall asleep before you so much as thought about moving her. “I just meant that the whole ‘kidnapping’ thing probably wouldn’t have been necessary, y’know? I wasn’t exactly in a place to be picky when it came to creepy rich men.”

There was a brief lapse of silence, and you finally managed to drag the bodice of the dress into place. “I never considered that.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you to hear that Illumi wasn’t the dating type, and yet, you let out a breath of a laugh. “You never thought about asking me out? Not even once?”

“…no, I didn’t.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded shy. “It was hard to be practical. I was distracted. You were perfect, and contained, and I thought touching you would be—” For the first time, his voice seemed to dip, to grow just a little quieter. “—vulgar. It would’ve changed you, to know I was there.”

The skirt was layered, and you bit back the urge to curse as you smoothed over the layers of cotton and lace. “I think being abducted might’ve changed me, too.”

“It was the better option. Something would’ve fallen out of place eventually, but like this, I could save you. Only your environment had to be altered.”

He made it sound like he’d sealed you behind glass, rather than underneath a mansion occupied by the world’s most dangerous killers. You’d known better than to hope he’d be able to come up with a selfless reason for your prolonged captivity, but still. Hearing that you were miserable because he needed a ballerina to decorate his music box with stung more than you would’ve liked to admit.

“…it’s unlocked. You can come in, if you want.” Immediately, you heard the dressing room door creak open, and turned your attention towards your reflection. Out of the countless you’d tried on, there was a reason you’d saved this dress for last. You used to fantasize about being able to afford something so wonderfully needless, something you wouldn’t have had to justify with things as joyless as ‘function’ and ‘practicality’. Even now, the puffiness of the sleeves and the lace detailing around the collar and the tiny, almost impossible-to-see hearts printed onto the checked pattern felt exorbitant – borderline garish. You still didn’t have any reason to wear it, any place you could’ve gone to show it off, but then again, you didn’t have much of a reason to do much of anything when you were with Illumi. You guessed, in a roundabout kind of way, that meant you got to do whatever you wanted to.

Illumi came to stand behind you, and you leaned back, kissing his cheek gingerly. “I’ll add it to the pile. Thanks for this, ‘lumi.”

His hands found their way to your hips, settling there as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Keep it on. It suits you.”

You tried to laugh, but fell short – your smile falling into something more strained. You really shouldn’t have said anything, but you were talking before you could stop yourself, before you could think better of it. “The cinnamon,” you started, speaking against the dryness in your throat. “When I first moved to the city, the only apartment I could afford was flat above a bakery. The ventilation was awful, and the landlord was impossible to get a hold of, and everything I owned smelled like sugar and cinnamon and bread. I couldn’t touch anything sweet for months, after I moved out.”

It was all you could do to bite down on your tongue and force yourself to stop, to shut up, to remember who you were talking to. Illumi’s response was less dramatic – as instantaneous as it was muted.

“How fitting,” he said, with a chime of a laugh. “Sweet things belong in sweet places.”

…

You could only be mad at yourself, really. What else were expecting? It wasn’t like he was going to get down on his knees and apologize, for fuck’s sake.

You sighed, melting into Illumi’s chest. Of course, he welcomed you with open arms.

~

You didn’t end up keeping any other dresses. A few other articles of clothing, a couple pairs of shoes, a small fortune’s worth of little luxuries that’d help you pass the time when you were returned, kicking and screaming, to solitary confinement, but no dresses. Well, aside from the one you were wearing, of course.

It wasn’t long before Illumi started gently ushering you to the nearest exit, and already thoroughly defeated, you didn’t try to resist. You only got distracted once on your way out, and not for very long. Illumi made sure of that.

It was kiosk-type stand – the glass cabinets filled with high-end pet toys and animal-themed tchotchkes. You couldn’t stop yourself, gasping as you broke away from Illumi and darted to the first thing that caught your eye: a bright pink collar with silver spikes, adorable and cliché and so, so cute. It was clearly meant for a dog, but it could’ve fit a cat. Or, you probably would’ve tried to make it fit a cat, rather.  

Illumi appeared at your side, as always, and you started talking without looking up. “I’m sorry, I know we’re in a rush, but it just—” You paused, trying and failing to bite back a smile. “I had this cat before you took me – her name was Ghost. She used to be the neighborhood stray, but she was getting pretty old, and I think other cats were picking on her. Eventually, I just started letting her in, and after a while, she stopped leaving. She would’ve hated something like this.” You held up the collar, gesturing dismissively before forcing yourself to set it back down. “She never really liked me. Whoever took her in shouldn’t have had too much trouble winning her over, after I disappeared.”

“Ghost,” he repeated. “Was she a black cat?”

“Yeah, that’s where her name came from. I couldn’t see her at all at night, and she could knock over anything that wasn’t nailed down. It was like living with a poltergeist.”

“She’s dead.”

You felt something small and vital tear open and start to bleed. “…excuse me?”

“You two were quite close. Had she been given the time, she would’ve woken you up the night I came to get you. I didn’t want that.” It took an embarrassing amount of time for you to make the connection, to form the link, to realize why the pain in your chest was quickly becoming so unbearable. “We can get another, if you’re upset. As a couple.”

The shock was numb, if there was any shock to be had at all. “It’s fine,” you managed, eventually, and despite the strain behind your voice, Illumi didn’t argue.

Instead, he glanced towards the nearest glass wall, to where the sun was just beginning to set over the horizon. “We should go.”

“I didn’t realize we were on a schedule.”

“You weren’t supposed to. I told you earlier – the last stop is a surprise.” This time, he was the one to take your hand, squeezing gently as he laced his fingers with yours.

It might’ve been a nice gesture, if his touch hadn’t been cold enough to burn.

~

You weren’t really sure what the third and final stop was supposed to be, at first.

An old sort of a dream knotted and coiled in your chest as his driver ferried you out of the city, metropolis shuttering into mountain backwoods. You’d never really been afraid of Illumi killing you (not when there were so many things that were so, so much worse than death), but as the car eased to a stop on the side of single-lane road, it was hard to imagine why else he would’ve taken you so far from the nearest scrap of civilization, another reason for him to wear such a bright expression as he ushered you outside - the most impatient he’d been all day. It wasn’t until you saw the trailhead – unmarked save for a wooden post and break in the foliage – that you started to relax.

“Oh,” you mumbled, your relief audible. “I’m not really dressed for hiking, ‘lumi.”

“It isn’t far.” And then, taking your hand in his, “I can carry you.”

It sounded more like a matter-of-fact statement than an offer, but you shook your head, edging forward. He was right, in the end. It couldn’t have been more than half a mile of level ground, Illumi holding your hand all the while. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed outside on Illumi’s estate, but you spent so much time in the woods that surrounded his mansion and his mother’s gardens – it would’ve been impossible not to go numb to the absence of bird song, the treacherous slope of his mountain, how little sunlight managed to break through the dense canopy of tangled branches and leaves that seemed to lie a little closer to black than green. It was nice to be somewhere else, somewhere with humming insects and a gentleness to the landscape and just enough dappled sunlight to make you forget who you were with. You kept your head on a swivel, quietly eager to soak in as much of it as you could. If you were lucky, you’d actually get to see some life – a deer, or a wildcat, or—

Something caught in your throat, and your head lulled forward, eyes dropping to your feet. You stared at the ground for the rest of the walk.

Your destination was, similarly, storybook levels of idyllic. The forest thinned and fell away entirely, breaking into a lake that stretched on as far as the eye could see and glittered pink in the light of the setting sun. Stretched over the lake’s shore was a blanket piled with platters of chocolate-covered fruit, breads and cheese, bottles of wine with a matching pair of glasses for each option – everything you might’ve once drunkenly listed off to a friend while fantasizing about your perfect, fairytale date. You glanced around you, looking for the butlers who must’ve only just finished setting up, but Illumi was quick to call your attention back to him. You felt him let go of your hand, your body shift before you could process why you were moving, and then, you were no longer on the ground; one of Illumi’s arms hooked under your knees and the other behind your back, your side pulled against his chest in an effortless bridal carry. You made a passing attempt to squirm, but Illumi didn’t seem to mind – keeping you tucked against him as he made his way to the only unoccupied corner of the blanket and all-but dropped to the ground, leaving you splayed across his lap and safely caged within his arms.  It was hard to tell if he was trying to be romantic in his own, blank, heartless sort of way, or if he’d simply decided you weren’t moving quickly enough. For your own sake, you leaned towards the former.

“It’s awful,” you muttered, and then, correcting yourself, “Not the picnic, I mean – that’s perfect. It’s just, I can never tell what you’re thinking.”

He seemed to consider that, for a moment. A chocolate-covered strawberry was plucked out of the nearest bowl and held to your lips, and to appease him, you bit into it. Your throat still felt too knotted for you to actually enjoy eating, but it was good to keep Illumi happy. “Most of the time, I think about you,” he admitted, any hint of shame absent from his voice. “It’s an issue. It doesn’t affect my work, but it’ll start to if left unchecked.”

He thought about you while cutting down innocent civilians. Great. “And you’re not going to fix that by drowning me in a lake, right?”

“No, I’m not.” Like your question, his answer was too sincere for comfort. The way his free hand toyed with the hem of your skirt did little to ease your nerves, either. “I’ve tried keeping an amount of distance between you and I, but that hasn’t yielded much progress either.”

If he’d ever tried to keep himself away from you, you hadn’t been able to tell. His hand slipped under your skirt properly, and you twisted, reaching for the neared wine bottle. “There’s so much food here, we should really—”

“It can wait.”

It was awful, just how even his voice was. For the first time, you were tempted to give him a reason to raise it.

You’d never resisted Illumi, but he’d never tried to—tried to do this, either. There’d always been an unspoken barrier when it came to sex – your resounding horror shadowed comfortable within his apparent disinterest. Now, though, he didn’t seem very disinterested, and your lingering terror was brushed neatly to the side as his fingers grazed over your thighs, your hip, before slipping underneath the thin, silken fabric. You wanted to thrash, to bolt, but you were suddenly unable to move; paralyzed save for the reflex to clench your legs shut and sink that much deeper into Illumi’s chest. The former was undone with only as much effort as it took him to ease your thighs apart with his knee, though, and the latter only seemed to bring a soft smile to his lips – just barely prominent enough to feel as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. If you’d been in your right mind, you might’ve thought to look for his butlers, to worry about passing hikers or concerned locals he wouldn’t think not to hurt, but Illumi had done his job well. It was impossible not to consider yourself wholly and entirely alone in the world, when you were with him.

He was less clinical than you would’ve expected. Illumi did most things with surgical precision, but touching you seemed to call for a more experimental skillset. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as his long fingers spread and explored underneath your panties, the tautness of the fabric ensuring that he always moved against you, rather than over or around. Undressing you never seemed to cross his mind; instead, his attention was trained on dragging the pad of his thumb over your clit, on using his ring and middle fingers to trace the slit of your cunt. You weren’t turned on – who could be, with their stoic kidnapper fondling them like a child learning to handle their first doll? – but your body and your mind were on two different tracks, one eager to make the best of a bad situation and the other too distraught to stop it. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself dripping around him, your arousal adding a damp heat to your already claustrophobic point of connection. Illumi hummed. “You’re sensitive.”

You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was drowned out by a hitched gasp as he thrust two digits inside of you with a wet click. “Tight, too,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly, immediately falling into a pattern of pumping and scissoring; spreading you open and pulling back only to fuck his fingers that much deeper. When he paused, it was only to curl against something particularly sensitive inside of you, to leave you shrinking that much further into his chest. “Is this uncomfortable?”

The practicality of the question caught you off-guard. You couldn’t call it considerate, but it was more than you’d expected, more than you ever would’ve hoped for. Unable to speak, you nodded furiously, and Illumi clicked his tongue. “You’ll be alright,” And then, slightly softer, “It couldn’t be any worse than what I had to deal with, waiting for you.”

There was no bitterness, no remorse, no pity; just Illumi’s cold rationality and the feeling of his palm grinding into your clit. The only warmth you could feel was the ghost of his breath on the side of your throat, the dip of your shoulder – not quite panting, but a world apart from his usual absence of expression. You tried to steel yourself, to think about anything aside from Illumi’s presence where it draped across you like a funeral shroud, but it’d been months since the last time you so much as thought about touching yourself, and for all his apathy, you could feel heat pooling in your core and recognize that your attempts to stave off the inevitable were only prolonging the insufferable. Still, it would’ve been impossible not to try and choke back your whimpers as that heat brewed and solidified into something more tense, something more breakable; as Illumi’s cheek pressed into the curve of your neck and his fingers curled against something soft and unprotected inside of you. Your climax was drawn out of you slowly, painfully, with a ragged whine in place of a moan. You kept your face buried in Illumi’s chest, your hands balled around the bodice of your dress. It felt like an eternity passed before it was over, before Illumi’s hand drew back, but no relief accompanied the distance.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hate Illumi for it, not really. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel much of anything. The only thing you could think, as hard as you tried not to think at all, was that you missed your dead cat.

It was pathetic, honestly. A sob tore past your lips as he pulled you away from his chest and lowered you onto your back, tears burning twin tracks down your face. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made you cry, and this shouldn’t have been your tipping point – not Ghost, not your awful shoebox apartment, not the fact that you could hear fabric tearing as he pulled your dress apart, too impatient to so much as consider a less destructive solution. You were in hysterics by the time he glanced up, the faintest possible frown coaxing the corners of his lips downward. “You’re crying.” And then, when your only response was another jagged cry, “Why?”

You opened your mouth, but only managed to force out another incoherent sob. Illumi softened, leaning over you, his dark hair forming a curtain that seemed to replace the rest of the world with unending void. Eventually, you managed to scrap up the only thing you could, even if it wasn’t what you really meant. “I—I want to go home, Illumi.”

He cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a sort of blank focus. A moment passed, then another, before his expression brightened. “Oh.”

He leaned down, and you felt his lips brush over your forehead. His smile bit into your skin like a blade.

“We will, love.” He pulled back. You heard fabric shift, felt something hot and terrible slot against your cunt. “Just not yet.”

 You moved to respond, but gave up quickly. His mouth crashed into yours as he thrust into you and your blood ran cold.

~

Later on, in the dark, things became bearable again. Illumi was cruel, psychotic, delusional, but he was dutiful, too, and with the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen reduced to scraps, he wrapped you in his jacket and gathered you in his arms. The picnic was untouched, the breath-taking view painted over by night. None of it mattered, of course. You were too exhausted to keep your eyes open, and a bottomless pit occupied the space your stomach used to. You wouldn’t mind going the rest of your life without taking anything of the filthy, unfeeling outside world inside of you ever again, but you knew better than to swear off eating because of Illumi. Or, at least, you hoped you’d know better in the morning.

You were only half-conscious of him pulling you against his chest and starting back into the forest, following the same path you had an eternity ago. It was a stupid question, but you found yourself asking anyway, your voice low and hoarse. “Are we… Are we going somewhere?”

“Of course.” Illumi bowed his head, kissing the top of yours. “We’re going home.”

He didn’t know he was lying, but he was. He might’ve been, but you weren’t.

Slowly and with no small amount of effort, you managed to nod, slumping against his chest. No sooner had you went slack in his arms than the final tether to consciousness thinned and fell away, leaving you to be consumed by the darkness.

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

Keeping you plugged up with his cock was one of his favorite activities. Wanting to keep his cock warm was just the excuse he used, the real reason was his increasing need to breed.

“Shh, princess… you’ve gotta stay seated a little longer… you’ve gotta keep me warm, okay?”

You whined and writhed, your pussy clenching around him only fueling his urge to get you nice and pregnant. “Please… my tummy, it’s too full…”

The two of you had been going at it for hours, and now he was keeping his cock nestled inside you, filling up your womb to the brim.

“Just be a good girl, okay? My little angel…”

You had a feeling you’d be stuffed full of his cum by the end of the night.

————————

||GOJO ||GETO ||NANAMI ||SUKUNA ||CHOSO ||TOJI || DILUC ||ZHONGLI ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||CHROLLO ||ILLUMI ||RENGOKU ||SANEMI ||YOUR FAV

[arabella0001]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five of your other fave writers. Spread the self-love! 💕💕💕💕❤️

(ཽ ੈ heeey, love ♡

thank you for the question!! well hmm, hard too chose but here we are. fav fics (and smuts too):

1) nowhere to hide ( eren yeager x reader) - SMUT 🦇

After Eren fully accesses his ability to see the future, he discovers something unexpected after touching Historia’s hand—the subconscious projections of those around him when he makes contact. Fleeting, abstract, easy to ignore. Until he touches you.

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2. i said i'd catch you when you fall (gojo satoru x reader) - SMUT 🦇

Gojo Satoru wasn’t an easy man to decipher—always grinning, perpetually untouchable, radiating that insufferable, all-knowing arrogance. But you? You knew him in ways most people didn’t.

──────────── He leaned against your wall, arms crossed, head tilting slightly as he studied you.

“Talk to me.”

“No.”

“You sure?” You glared at him, not wanting to play this game with him.

“Not everything can be solved with your dick, Gojo. Get out.”

He smirked. “Debatable.”

You wanted to punch him.

─────────────

3. dark bonds ( itachi uchiha x oc) - FANFIC 🦇

In a world shaped by conflict, moral ambiguity, and personal struggles, a determined shinobi, striving to heal and change the world as best she can, crosses paths with Itachi Uchiha—a man burdened by a past of sacrifice and betrayal.

────────────

“You let me walk away last time. Why?”

His head tilts slightly, as if the question surprises him.

“You weren’t a threat.”

Her pride stings, but she ignores it.

“And what about now? Am I a threat to you?”

His silence feels heavier than any answer.

“You talk a lot about irrelevance and burdens, but I don’t think someone like you does anything without a reason. So, what’s the reason this time?”

For a moment, she thinks he won’t answer.

“You remind me of someone.

The words catch her off guard. Her sharp retort dies on her tongue as she searches his expression for more, but his face remains unreadable.

“Who?”

His gaze flickers, just briefly, before he looks past her, as if seeing something far away.

“Someone who wanted to change the world, but didn’t understand the cost.”

────────────

4. no room for weakness (sasuke uchiha x reader ) FANFIC 🦇

A sharp press against your shoulder, just enough to unbalance you, to push you back against the cold wall before you can register the intent behind it. Hand on your mouth, curting off any sound before instinct has time to react. Not painful. But enough to say: Don’t fight this. “You didn’t see me here. Understood?” His voice is low, edged with something that doesn’t quite reach aggression, devoid of excess. A demand for compliance without room for negotiation. Your eyes flicker, not to his hand, not to the space between you, but directly at him and the weight of dark eyes meets yours. You peel his hand away from your mouth, fingers grazing over his wrist as you do. A calculated motion, if only to remind him that you aren’t as easily rattled as he might expect. A flicker of amusement in your eyes, whether at his audacity or your own indifference, you’re not sure. “Jeez. I guess you’re not so good with ladies like they say.”

5. unspokentension / quiet obsession 🦇

A woman with secrets, a man with control. Illumi Zoldyck finds her, and their silence lingers with something unspoken.

────────────

You raised an eyebrow at Illumi’s comment, trying to keep your cool despite the unease settling in your chest. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you perhaps… threatening me?” You whispered, your voice steady, even though the tension in the room was making your heart race. Illumi’s lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. “Threaten you? Oh, no. I'm merely offering... a warning.” he purred, his tone oozing with condescension. “Consider it a courtesy.” Hisoka quickly intervened, his voice soothing. “Pay him no mind, Y/N. My friend there speaks in riddles sometimes. It’s just his way of showing interest.”

────────────

feel bad to don't include bleach too :(

+ 6) curiosity killed the cat (kisuke urahara x reader) - SMUT 🦇

Kisuke doesn’t reveal his bankai often, lucky for you, he’s got plenty of other things he’s more willing to show

────────────

His hand moves to cup the back of your head, cradling it as though the gesture requires no thought at all. “You’re dangerous,” you murmur into his shirt, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “Oh, I know,” Kisuke replies smoothly. “I’ve been told it’s part of my charm.” You sigh, half-annoyed, half-amused—because of course he’d say that. But his hand hasn’t left your back, and the warmth pooling in your chest tells you that maybe, just maybe, he does know exactly what you need.

────────────

[shalscumbunny]

The male members of the Gen'ei Ryodan and their S/O's breasts

TW: Female S/O, abuse, fondling, forced intercourse, forced touching, mild torture, pregnancy, breeding kink, forced pregnancy, sexist, misogynist, breastfeeding, yandere, kidnapping and minor injuries

Author's note: I am humanly incapable of writing about Bonolenov (I feel weird), an apology to the fans (if there are any)

Phinks:

Honestly, whenever I think of Phinks, I think of someone who is rough even if he doesn't mean to be, not as rough as Uvogin, but he tends to be a bit aggressive when he has you sitting on his lap facing forward. He knows you're blushing and he doesn't care to embarrass you further, even though he has that stoic expression you know he's enjoying it, you know he's enjoying hearing you whimper and moan as his big hands knead your breasts. After all you feel his hard erection press against you. I don't really think of him as a breast man though (I'm of the inclination that he's a thigh man), so after playing with you for a while he'll just put you on all fours and fuck you hard.

Uvogin:

I have mixed feelings here, just like Phinks, I don't feel like he's a breast man (I think he's a die-hard fan of asses). But unlike Phinks who just hangs around to get bored, Uvogin doesn't mind spending a long time kneading your poor, aching breasts with his huge, calloused hands. You feel his hard penis rub against your pussy as you cry, watching through your tears as he bites, sucks and pulls at your poor breasts. Your breasts will probably be covered in bruises, small wounds and injuries the next day, making him puff out his chest with pride.

Franklin:

Unlike the previous ones, I feel that despite that rough and corpulent build, Franklin is a soft man, he likes your breasts (And yes, I feel that he likes breasts 100%), regardless of their size or shape, they simply captivate him. He usually takes you gently while licking and sucking your breasts making you moan, he sniffs your essence carefully and usually guides you in the way he likes. A pleasure where the majority usually wins.

Feitan:

I'm not going to put it up for discussion, Feitan is a man who loves breasts (And for some reason I feel like he loves small breasts the most and don't ask me why). If Feitan isn't rubbing your breasts, sucking and biting your poor nipples, sadly it's something else. I feel like one way to represent his love and dominance over his S/O is torture. Feitan doesn't see his S/O as an equal, so he doesn't care about your opinion or consent. So sadly sometimes you're tied to a chair with little electric clamps stimulating your poor sore nipples while he forces you to suck his cock. You know he's turned on, his gaze isn't very expressive, but he has that sick sadistic smile on his face, his cock vibrating in your throat.

Nobunaga:

I don't feel like he's a die-hard fan of breasts (He's a thigh man), but he likes to make you feel good and mark you as his. Just like your thighs, neck and shoulders, your breasts are also decorated with little bruises. He's a big groper, he just can't get enough of you because he loves you so much, so sometimes he doesn't mind leaning you on a counter and groping your breasts while he bites your shoulder and his cock pushes hard against your pussy for several hours without rest, until he leaves you dumb, with your pussy and uterus full of his cum, your breasts swollen and overstimulated. He's a man who's a fan of new experiences, so he's willing to suggest (coerce) you to try to masturbate him with your breasts, growling as he feels your soft mounds embrace his hard cock and then grabbing your hair to make you suck his swollen tip.

Chrollo:

Chrollo is a curious being in every aspect and that includes the human body, especially YOUR body. I feel that even though it may not seem like it sometimes, he likes mysticism, when it comes to you, he believes in soulmates, he is a true believer that you and him are pieces of a puzzle. He loves you deliberately, he is obsessed with you and everything about you, he needs you, in every aspect. Even though I personally feel that his S/O's favorite body part is her thighs, he also loves breasts. He fucks you by making you sit on his fat cock, both of you sitting anywhere, be it the living room, the bathroom or the corner of the bed. His hot, cum-filled balls squished by your slippery slit. He is thrusting at a good pace inside you, deep and somewhat slow, looking to fill you strongly. He's pleased by your expressions and moans, he grunts when your rubbery walls squeeze his cock, he growls into your breasts and moans, after giving you a dirty kiss on the mouth he lowers his head until he latches onto your nipple, he sucks and sucks it like he's hungry while his arms wrap around your waist tightly. He pounds into you in a messier way while he licks and sucks your nopples, completely obsessed with those dirty faces you make. He doesn't plan on stopping, he's got a long way to go with you, he loves latching onto your nipple and being one with you. Obviously we know that his goal is to possess you and please you, and he's probably also trying to impregnate your sweet pussy with his child.

Hisoka:

He's a big fan of ass and I'm not willing to argue about it, but that doesn't stop him from suggesting (forcing) you to use flavored body lotions. He lets out that hungry giggle as he latches onto your bubble gum flavored nipples while his fingers with sharp nails move in your tight, wet pussy, obviously those sharp nails hurt and injure your poor pussy making it bleed slightly, but you're used to it by this point, so you just moan and gasp excitedly, tears rolling down your red cheeks. I'll add as an additional note that since Hisoka is a man with such eccentric tastes, he'll probably at some point force you to wear piercings on those cute nipples of yours, maybe pink ones or heart-shaped ones, or if he's really crazy probably one of your nipples will end with an "H" and the other with an "M"

Illumi:

We've talked about this before, a relationship with Illumi without children is impossible, no matter if you're infertile, in this fictional world of HxH, he's willing to find any way for you to get pregnant with his children. Illumi is the kind of man who won't let you leave his bed until a pregnancy test comes back positive, which he so desperately wants. Apart from the fact that even though he loves you and doesn't know how to show it, in this relationship you don't have the right to have an opinion, so you have to accept and adapt. It doesn't matter if you beg him on your knees that you don't want a baby, he doesn't care, he won't listen to you either, he is a true believer that you will become fond of the baby. Due to his upbringing, he has somewhat misogynistic and sexist tendencies, so, since you are his wife, your duty is to accept the children he wants to give you and obey him (The best thing for your mental health is to do so). He's not very good at expressing that he wants it, you've rarely seen him with more than one expression, so learning to decipher it will take you a GOOD time. Only his face usually changes a couple of times and one of those times is when he's fucking you, his face looks slightly more relaxed and even if he tries, the pleasure is something difficult to hide even for a cold-blooded killer like him. Even though sex is very mechanical with him, it's not bad, he gives it to you hard, strong and moderately fast while sucking your breasts occasionally, he will NEVER admit it to anyone, but they are a part of your body that usually generates attraction and curiosity in him. But once he left you round and swollen with his child, now your breasts are a part of your body that obsesses him. He just feels his cock harden when he notices how they grow day by day, preparing to nourish his future child. Of course Illumi doesn't stop fucking you when you're pregnant, on the contrary, he fucks you more, because he simply gets excited seeing you pregnant and swollen with his baby. He spends so much time sucking on your breasts during sex that your milk production gets too early, that only makes him obsessed with your breasts even more. Now he fucks you hard, rubbing the baby inside you with the palm of his cold hand while he fills his mouth with your sweet milk, panting and grunting on your swollen nipple, at the same time, your other nipple drips small jets of milk onto the bed. When you give birth he gives you privacy with the baby when nursing, although it's funny because the baby looks like its father, hugging your breast and latching onto your nipple trying to swallow as much milk as possible. Years later and after 4 babies, it's really comforting and strange for you that Illumi doesn't change, he's not very expressive or affectionate, but he likes to be with you, he doesn't feel disgusted by the after-effects of pregnancies on your body, on the contrary, he tends to be attracted to them He rarely smiles except when you greet him after a long day of murders, with two children hidden behind your skirt, another in a sling on your back, another in your arms sucking milk from your nipple and well, another on the way developing in your swollen belly. When Illumi calls the nannies to take the children away and leave you alone, he really just wants to latch onto your generous milk-filled breasts and fuck your pregnant pussy.

Shalnark: (Everything I say about Shalnark is 100% canon and I don't allow anyone to question it). Shalnark LOVES, NEEDS and ADORES your breasts. He loves them for everything, he uses them as a pillow when he's sleepy or wants you to cuddle him, he loves to cuddle and warm up there, he has a smile on his face whenever he's there, you really think he's just missing starting to purr while rubbing his head there and hugging your waist. He's an addict and he doesn't even think about asking you for permission to touch them, for Shalnark they're his, they belong to him, he enjoys buying you only low-cut clothes to look at them all the time and have easy access to them. He doesn't even need to have his cock buried in your pussy to start sucking on your breasts, it can just be at any time, sometimes you're relaxing in bed reading a book and he'll come over, open your shirt and start sucking and licking them with his eyes closed while hugging your waist. Other times he will call you while he is working on his computer, ask you to sit on his lap and continue working while his cock is buried in your pussy and his mouth is sucking on your nipple. Obviously above all, he loves sucking your breasts while he fucks you on the bed, pushing his hips against yours while the tip of his penis hits your cervix hard. His mouth licking, biting and sucking all over your breast, leaving it with marks, bruises, bites and saliva. I mentioned before in this profile that Shalnark does not like the idea of ​​having children, he really does not want any, but he would probably have something similar to what Illumi did with your breasts if he were to get you pregnant and agreed to allow you to continue with the pregnancy. But on the other hand, you would end up producing milk whether you were pregnant or not, since the stimulation is so great that your breasts begin to fill with milk and of course Shalnark will not allow a single drop to go to waste.

Thank you very much for reading me, if you want a version with the female members of the Gen'ei Ryodan let me know 🖤

[uvobreakmylegs]

Unforeseen

for fun this year @hypnoswrites and I both wrote Illumi fics for Valentines Day. no connection between the fics, just more dead fish eyes for love day this year :D

here's her fic~

Red Thread of Fate Soulmate AU with Illumi x reader

💕Happy Valentines Day💕

Warnings: assassination, mentions of death, mentions of torture, kidnapping

Word Count: 13.4k

Most days were rather dull for Illumi, he had to admit.

They largely consisted of the same limited activities: travel somewhere, accept a job, locate and kill a target and then be paid for doing so. Sometimes he met with the client if such a meeting was necessary for any reason, but most clients were satisfied with the transaction taking place through the butlers, so these days Illumi rarely needed to take part in a face to face meeting.

Sometimes days were different. Sometimes Chrollo required his services, which Illumi took, much to the annoyance of his father. Sometimes Hisoka decided to bother him, and Illumi would hold back on taking out his annoyance on the magician since it felt like getting rid of him at that moment would be a waste. Sometimes it was Illumi himself causing the detour in his routines, halting his work for something that he determined would be of use to him in the long run, such as the time he had spent taking the Hunter exam. But such things didn't happen often.

Aside from those instances and his frequent trips home before he went back out on a job, the routine largely stayed the same.

Travel. Kill. Payment. Again and again.

And while Illumi was in no way dissatisfied with his life was it was currently, it felt as though there was something missing.

Namely, his soulmate.

Like most who were capable of using nen, Illumi learned of the connection after he mastered gyo and subsequently found that invincible red thread around his finger. The explanation of what that thread meant was followed by strict instruction: that once the thread grew taut, it meant that his soulmate was nearby, and when that happened, he needed to find whoever it was on the other end of the thread and secure them. As with everything his parents told him, Illumi listened carefully and remembered their words, and not a day had gone by since then that he would check on the thread whenever he was away from home, wondering when the time would come that his soulmate was meant to meet him.

The meeting was something Illumi thought of often. For years following the day he learned of soulmates, he found himself gazing at that thread on his finger in the quiet moments during long hours of travel. The more time wore on, the more he wondered who was at the other end and why he hadn't yet met them. At first, when he was still in his training, he had expected that he would meet his soulmate once he had fully mastered nen. But that had been quite some time ago and no such thing had happened, thus his assumption had been false. So Illumi was left to wonder why it hadn't yet happened. Wondering why, after all of the time he spent traveling for jobs, the thread continued to lay slack and dead and refusing to lead him to that other person.

But patience was one of the qualities of a good assassin, and thus, Illumi waited. And until the day came where he would find the person that fate had decided belonged to him, he would continue with that same routine.

Travel. Kill. Payment.

Again and again, always working hard to do his best to uphold the Zoldyck family name, and always trusting that he would find his soulmate whenever fate would determine that the time was right.

It ended up being on an a day that was overcast, when the clouds were dark and looming overhead above him. When Illumi stepped out of his hotel to take care of the current job he had been hired for, he did what he had always done and glanced down at his left pinky finger, anticipating that it would be the same as always. But that was the day that the routine was broken as he realized that the thread around his finger was tight for the first time in his life.

When he saw that the thread was finally, finally taut, a surge of anticipation swelled within him.

For whatever reason, the time was now. While it was a mild inconvenience that he couldn't immediately go to his soulmate due to the fact that he was in the middle of a job, it made Illumi quicken his pace as he was eager to get it over quickly. With the large briefcase that the client had instructed that he take with him in hand, Illumi kept his eyes on the thread as made his way to the site where his first target was, watching as the thread grew tighter with each passing step, indicating that he was getting closer to where he would find the one at the other end of the thread.

Illumi expected that he would see them while he was on his way to his job. Perhaps passing by on the street or in a nearby shop. Based on how the thread seemed to be staying still on his soulmate's end, it appeared as though they were staying put. Again, he was spurred forward, a small smile appearing on the assassin's face as he thought of being able to take what was his, to have that connection he had heard spoken of so often from others.

He continued, getting closer and closer to the cafe where his first target was waiting and he still had yet to come across his soulmate. When it got to the point that the cafe was within viewing distance, Illumi began to wonder if they were in that same space as the target. An odd coincidence that his soulmate would be there, but perhaps that was fate playing its hand again. Even if his soulmate saw him with the target, it wouldn't matter. As long as nothing alarming happened between himself and the target in his soulmate's vicinity, it would be of little consequence.

But when he was finally across the street from the cafe and he caught sight of that person he had been waiting for, he froze.

Despite the clouds that had gathered over the heart of the city and their efforts to hide the sky above them, bits of blue and the bright light of the sun managed to break through every now and then. Such was the case when an opening in the clouds appeared just then, allowing forth a thin ray of sunlight that came down and settled on an area with a particular person sitting in the middle of it.

You.

You sat at one of the outdoor tables at the cafe, your index finger trailing across the plastic cup that held your sweet looking drink while the toe of your shoe tapped incessantly on the pavement beneath your seat. The slightly chill air that blew by caused you to shudder slightly, and you glanced behind yourself to look inside the cafe building, as though you were considering moving inside so you could be out of the cold. When you saw that no seats were available, you frowned to yourself and ultimately stayed where you were.

Still in that sunlight and with everything in the surrounding environment pointing to you. And as you sat beneath the spotlight that nature had created for you, Illumi watched intently from the other side of the crosswalk, taking in everything about you and only tearing his gaze away for a few scant seconds to stare down at his own left hand to make sure that what he thought he saw was correct: that the red thread which was attached to his pinky truly connected him to you.

No matter how many times he checked, there was no mistaking it. His eyes that followed the thread always brought him back to you and no one else.

His soulmate.

It should have been a good moment, as it was a moment he had been anticipating for a long time now. When Illumi saw you at last, saw your face for first time after imagining it for so long, it should have been a moment where he felt at peace upon witnessing his other half.

Instead those feelings of anticipation died immediately upon seeing you, and all Illumi felt in that moment was a mild confusion accompanied by immediate concern.

It didn't appear that he was the only one who was concerned.

Despite your attempts to appear casual, it was evident from your expression that you were nervous, and your gaze kept going to a long, thin parcel that sat upright in the seat next to you. From the way you glanced about, it was clear that you were waiting for someone. As if to further prove that point to him, you took another sip of your drink as you glanced at your phone, checking the time before you scanned the area that surrounded you.

It all matched up.

Concern turned into irritation – with whom exactly, Illumi wasn't sure yet. But someone was to blame for this, someone was responsible for this situation that felt like a horrid joke. This wasn't something that should've happened, not to him. Even though he found himself hoping that he was mistaken and the real target was within the cafe building behind you, taking up one of those seats you had wished to occupy, all of it simply matched up too well.

The time was 11:15.

The location was The Nest Cafe.

You were clearly waiting for someone to arrive.

And Illumi was certain that you were waiting for him.

It felt like too much of a coincidence that you would be there for any other reason. Not at this time and with that parcel in the seat next to you, not with the way you looked at the other people in the vicinity, subtly glancing up at those who walked by close to your table in anticipation of any one of them approaching you. And if that wasn't enough, your appearance matched with who he was told would be there waiting for him to perform the exchange.

Everything pointed to you being the one he needed to meet for his job. If that truly was the case, then that meant you were his target.

One of the those he had been hired to kill.

The assassin stared at you as his mind began to race. The disbelief of how such a thing could happen, how this much of a coincidence could occur consumed him. How you had landed yourself on the radar of Edgar Farley and how you had angered him to such a degree that he decided to spend extra for Illumi to torture you and your accomplices extensively before your existence was snuffed out.

Of all the things that could have happened, how in the world had he ended up taking on a job that required him to kill his own soulmate?

Illumi didn't notice that his grip had tightened too much on the handle of the briefcase until he heard it crack, and that sound was enough to snap him out of his all consuming thoughts. He needed to continue, he reminded himself. As a Zoldyck, he needed to complete the job for the name of his family, regardless of the unforeseen circumstances which involved you.

Of course, he wasn't going to kill you, which would mean he would need to come up with some sort of solution for the sixth body Farley was demanding.

Illumi let out a small, barely audible sigh as he gathered himself up internally.

He would figure it out. There was surely a solution that would allow him to have you and complete the job without any fuss. He had no doubts on that.

But for now, his focus needed to be on getting you somewhere out of sight.

With that, Illumi waited for the light at the crosswalk, and once it turned green, he began to make his way towards you, once more keeping his eyes on you and the thread as it grew smaller and smaller.

You noticed him quickly after he had crossed the street, and when you realized that he was staring straight at you, you turned your full attention to him, straightening yourself up in your seat when you saw that he was approaching you. When he stopped in front of you, it took you a moment before you spoke as you glanced down at the briefcase he held. Illumi saw the way your pulse quickened as the gears began to turn in your head, as you came to the assumption that he was the one you were waiting for.

Illumi spoke first, calling out your name in a questioning tone.

You nodded cautiously.

“Are you, uh-”

You faltered in the middle of your sentence, seemingly taken aback by the way he was looking at you.

Was the way he was staring at you that strange?

Regaining your voice, you tried again with “you're here for the…. Uh, the thing, right?”

…… That was how you were describing this?

“Yes,” he answered.

“Ah. Okay then.”

You got up from your seat, but then stopped as you looked down at your cup.

“Did… Did you want a drink, too?” you asked.

Illumi shook his head.

“I'd rather we head off.”

“Okay. That also works.”

You took one long, last sip before tossing the cup into the appropriate receptacle before hurrying back to the table to grab the parcel, tucking it beneath your arm as you looked back at him.

“The hotel is down that way. It isn't too long of a walk. A little bit less than seven minutes,” you told him.

Illumi nodded silently, then followed once you began to make your way down the sidewalk. Keeping his eyes on you, he found that while you were once again trying to hide it, you were clearly nervous. There was a jitteriness to your step, and your fingers kept playing with one of the edges of the parcel, slowly picking at it more and more with every moment that passed as you made the walk to the hotel.

You then stiffened as though a sudden thought had struck you, and you turned your head while you walked as you asked “sorry, I should've said something beforehand about us walking. It's not an issue, right? If it is, I can get us a taxi.”

“It's not an issue,” Illumi calmly replied.

“Oh, okay then. That's good.”

Your free hand then went up to nervously scratch at the back of your neck and you let out a shaky exhale that you must have thought he wouldn't be able to catch.

Why were you doing this if it made you so nervous?

It appeared that just being involved in this situation that was causing your distress. Perhaps you actually recognized how awful this plan was; the group you were part of appeared to be a foolish lot, with none of you seeming to truly know what you were doing. Illumi hoped you weren't the ringleader, as this get rich quick scheme was already pathetic, and he found himself disappointed that you were participating in it. He'd be even more disappointed if he knew you were the one to come up with it.

At least once he was done here, he wouldn't need to worry about you being able to do anything too foolish. The leash he would keep on you would be too tight for that.

You glanced over at him again, and he grew concerned when he saw your eyes furrow in worry upon meeting his gaze again.

Were you perceptive enough to realize that something was wrong?

That turned out to be unlikely, as when an elderly man who stood a few steps in front of you sneezed unexpectedly, you jumped, and the parcel nearly dropped from your hands. No, it didn't seem likely that you were aware of anything amiss; you were simply nervous about the situation as a whole.

Illumi frowned slightly as he watched you. Your nervousness was only an additional negative in this situation. Your lack of nen meant it would be harder for you to understand the connection, and if you weren't relaxed, you were guaranteed to not feel it in a timely manner.

As much as he hated to admit it, Illumi doubted that he would be able to ease your nerves and get you to trust him, and especially not in such a short time.

There was no choice but to take you by force. While that would cause issues that would be detrimental to the connection opening for you, it was better to go through with that. The time it would take for you to accept him would be longer, but that was the safest option he had.

The silence stretched over the two of you, though it didn't seem to do much to assuage your nervousness. As Illumi continued to follow you, his gaze once again went to the parcel being carried beneath your arm. That was the item that had been the source of this entire conflict, that the client desperately wanted back. Why Farley was willing to have him kill over a piece of art, Illumi couldn't fathom, though his own opinion hardly mattered in this instance.

But as he looked at the parcel, he found that something about it felt…. Off. From what he was told about the art he was to retrieve, the dimensions of what you carried didn't seem to match up with what had been described to him. He turned his gaze back to you, boring into the back of your skull as he grew suspicious over what exactly you were carrying. Things definitely didn't need to be complicated by you not having the painting in question.

He'd find out what was going on soon enough, he supposed.

The first bit of relief within you was seen when your shoulders loosened slightly as you looked beyond the path in front of you and caught sight of a hotel. While it was better than the average cesspit hotel with clientele that consisted of drug users and married spouses in the middle of an affair, the hotel was also considerably cheaper than the place Illumi had checked out of this morning. As he followed you in through the front doors, the assassin glanced about at the lobby. There were a fair amount of people milling around, all of whom seemed to be there from out of town for some kind of sporting event. No one bothered to even glance in your direction or his when you made a turn to the left and began to lead him down a hallway on the first floor.

Again, he wordlessly followed you as you made your way to a nearby stairway, and when you looked back at him again, you asked “are you cool if we take the stairs? With all those people around, I figure it's best that we avoid them if we can.”

“I have no issue with that,” he answered. As he followed you into the stairway, he spoke again, his voice echoing slightly against the barren walls as he asked “but why are you worried about people seeing us?”

“Ah, just…. You know. If we're stuck in a small space like an elevator, then people are more likely to take note of us. See us up close, and possibly say something to the police about us if something happens,” you said.

Illumi's eyes narrowed as he asked “are you expecting something to go wrong with the exchange?”

“N-no.”

“Then why the worry?”

“Just….. Just to be safe. Just in case,” you answered, “better to err on the side of caution, right? Neither of us want to be seen with something stolen, right?”

“I suppose.”

It was more than likely for the best that you were going out of your way to avoid the other guests at the hotel. Despite having how you had seemed to calm down some once you arrived here, it seemed as though his questioning had made your nerves shoot up again, and he didn't need you drawing attention to the both of you in such a way.

The way you became nervous so easily was likely going to be a tough issue for him to tackle, however. After all, you would become an assassin like him once the two of you were married, and the fact that he could easily see you freezing up in the middle of a job didn't bode well.

That would need to be trained out of you.

But he was getting ahead of himself. After all, he needed to solve this current set of issues with you before he could consider your training. And at the moment, he felt as though a big issue was quickly being taken care of. With every step he took as he followed you up the several flights of stairs, the he was getting closer to having you alone in a controlled space. That in and of itself was enough to give him a slight sense of relief.

It seemed as though you were of the same opinion, as once you made it to the hotel room in question and entered after Illumi had, you were quick to shut the door and flip the lock, breathing in deep before letting all out in a shaky sigh.

That time he chose to make a comment.

“You don't seem well,” he said.

You startled slightly, your eyes growing wide before you tried explain it away.

“I don't?” you asked, “I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so maybe that's why. Sorry about that.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Illumi asked.

Once again, you seemed surprised at the question.

“Force of habit, I guess,” you eventually got out.

Stepping by him, you moved towards the center of the room, where a small couch and coffee table were sitting in front of the single bed. An item sitting atop the table caught his attention: one of those portable money counting machines. The transaction would be taking place there, then.

After placing the parcel on the far end of the couch, you turned to him after and you clapped your hands together in a clear attempt to change the topic, forcing yourself to smile at him as you did so as if to convince him that everything was fine. Perhaps it was a way to convince yourself as well.

“So, um,” you began, “I guess I'll start with counting the money.”

Hearing that surprised him a little.

“I don't get to see the painting first?” Illumi asked.

“Um….”

You seemed caught off-guard by that question, and you stammered for a few moments, glancing back at the parcel briefly as you tried to come up with a response. In the middle of that, you oddly took the time to look at the door of the closet that stood behind him, your gaze flitting over to it briefly before you looked at him and cleared your throat.

“Uh, I think I should count the money first,” you told him, “just to, you know, be safe.”

“You think I'm going to scam you?”

“N-no. But it's a lot of money, and we're – I'm taking a lot of risks here.”

Your gaze grew a bit more grim as you added “plus, I heard that the previous owner was something of a psychopath, so I really want to be careful, you know?”

Then why steal from him if you're worried about him retaliating?

As reasonable as it would have been to ask that, Illumi held his tongue.

“Plus, like, even if the painting was fake and I did try to grab the money and run, I don't think I'd get far, you know?” you continued.

“What makes you think that?”

“You look like you could catch me easily. So I think running would be really dumb on my part.”

After a brief pause, you then admitted “the way you've been staring at me has also been intense and you're kind of scary, so I really don't want to make you mad at me.”

Illumi blinked.

“I'm scary?” he repeated.

You blanched, as if you hadn't realized what exactly you had said until he had repeated it. Your panic began to grow again as you started to apologize.

“I'm sorry, that was really rude of me! I didn't mean to say that,” you insisted, “I just meant to say….. Meant to say that I'm not going to try anything shady. That I wouldn't do that to anyone, and definitely not you. I'm really sorry. I wasn't trying to offend you.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you continued “I was told that I needed to count the jenny first, so I'm just trying to do what I was told, you know?”

“….. I see.”

From the way you reacted to his response, it seemed as though you determined that you had said something wrong, as you were quick to then tell him “sorry, I'm not trying to make things difficult. I get why you need to be cautious, because you don't know me and eight billion is a lot to be handing off to a stranger. But I promise, as soon as I'm done I'll let you confirm that it's the real thing.”

There was a hint of desperation in your gaze as you then asked “does…. Does that sound good?”

Ending the charade now would have been prudent. If he did that, he would save himself some time, get the job over with quicker so he could focus fully on you. Knocking you out and calling up the butler that was waiting on standby for him to take you away while he figured out a replacement for you would be the best way to move forward.

But he still wasn't sure what was going on with the painting and he didn't want to sour your opinion of him by torturing you on your first meeting.

So instead, Illumi nodded.

“I understand,” he told you, “I'll wait, then.”

Though it was tinged with nervousness, the smile you gave him was one of genuine relief.

“Thank you,” you said.

Illumi said nothing, but he felt an odd sensation in his heart upon seeing you smile.

Keeping his face as that same blank mask he almost always wore, he settled down onto the chair that sat opposite of the couch. You sat as well, taking the briefcase that he had offered you and setting it on the coffee table in front of you. Your eyes widened slightly when you opened it, as you likely had never seen that much jenny before in your life.

As you began to count, Illumi thought of what you had said moments ago, the things you had said about him. And as if somehow sensing what he was thinking, you looked up at him again, your eyebrows pinching in worry as you spoke up.

“I really am sorry for what I said, if it offended you,” you reiterated.

“It's fine. It doesn't matter,” he answered.

That was a lie. It mattered a lot. Especially upon realizing that his soulmate was unsettled by him to the point that they viewed him to be scary, of all things. But as he recalled the lovely expression that had been on your face when you had thanked him moments earlier, he decided that he could forgive you.

So again he held his tongue and merely observed you after the two of you had taken your seats, and he watched as you pulled out a notebook and a pen before gathering a stack of jenny and placing it into the money counter after. Shortly after, the silence in the room was broken by the sound of the rustling paper as the jenny was put through the machine and the small screen at the front displayed the total that quickly shot up as more of the money went through. Soon enough that particular stack was done, and you jotted down the number on the screen before setting the stack aside and grabbing another from the briefcase, repeating the process again.

The two of you would be here for a while.

As much as Illumi wished to have used this time to speak with you, it was clear that you wouldn't be receptive to it. You saw this as a business transaction. Any personal questions coming from him would likely only earn him more worried looks and apologies as you desperately tried not to offend him. So he sat in silence while he watched, keeping his eyes on you as you continued the monotonous task.

At the beginning you would glance up at him periodically, only to quickly avert your gaze when you saw him looking at you. Eventually you stopped doing that, and it seemed as though you were making a point to keep your focus only on your notebook, the money counter and the contents of the briefcase.

What exactly makes me so scary?

That question would need to wait until later, as much as that fact irked him.

With little else to do, Illumi glanced again at the parcel. Again, the dimensions didn't seem right to him. And as he remembered the way you had glanced over at the closet, a possible explanation began to form in his mind, but it was one he would likely need to wait for until you had finished what you were doing.

Now that his mind was again on the task at hand, he asked “how exactly did you come upon this piece?”

Tensing at the sound of his voice, you glanced up at him and then immediately averted your gaze.

“Um, I don't think I'm supposed to say anything about that. All that matters is that it's real, right?” you asked in reply.

“We're talking about a stolen art piece. We're both 'taking risks' for this, as you put it. I think I'm entitled to know how you got ahold of this,” he answered.

Your shoulders sank slightly as you appeared to concede.

“We, uh, we heard it was just sitting in storage, that no one had checked in on it in a while. So my roommate figured we could take it and no one would notice,” you quietly explained.

“It seems like he was right because it hasn't been reported missing yet,” you added.

“Your roommate?” Illumi repeated.

You froze. And then you seemed disappointed with yourself as you were forced to admit “my roommate knows a guy who works at that museum where it was stored.”

“Why aren't they here?”

“He's the one who thought of this and got everything set up. The other guys were the ones who took the painting. So this is the part I need to do.”

You quickly looked back to the money counter, once again scribbling down the number listed on the screen.

The more he learned, the more Illumi was convinced that whomever had been the mastermind of this plan – your roommate, evidently – they hadn't thought through it very well. As was usually the case for the theft of fine art. If the thief didn't have a buyer lined up beforehand, they typically had a hard time selling it off for any sort of profit. While exceptions for that rule existed, such as the Phantom Troupe whose notoriety had fans of theirs wanting to buy items that had been in their possession, a small group of first time criminals were never going to achieve such success. This entire interaction had been set up so you and others who thought about stealing from his client would learn a lesson. It was always going to end badly for your group.

The one thing Illumi could be thankful for was the fact that he had been selected to carry out the hit. It allowed him the control he needed to navigate the situation and guide it to an ending where the client was satisfied and you were still alive.

When the process of counting the eight billion finally ended and you confirmed that what was given to you was the correct amount, you shut the notebook, placed the jenny back within the briefcase and then looked to him, saying “everything looks good. I'll show you the painting now.”

Instead of handing him the parcel, you stood up and walked over to the closet that stood in front of the door, sliding it open before you reached inside. When you pulled your hand back out, you were holding another parcel.

He caught on immediately as he asked “is that the real painting?”

You looked back to him, and then nodded.

“Yeah. The one on the couch is a decoy,” you explained, “just in case.”

“Just in case?” he repeated.

“In case you thought it'd be better to take it from me when we were outside,” you said, “I figured since I'm not really intimidating at all, a potential buyer might think of stealing it and leave us with nothing, so I put the real one in here beforehand.”

When he didn't respond to that, your fingers tensed on the edge of the new parcel, looking away as you mumbled “I thought it was a good idea.”

“It certainly shows that you exercised more caution than I gave you credit for,” Illumi said.

“Thank – thank you?” you replied, uncertain if you should take his words to be insulting or not. Regardless of that, you stepped forward as you approached the coffee table once again, holding the parcel out to him to take.

You sat back down on the couch after, watching him as he undid the piece of twine that held the brown paper wrapped around the painting. You were eager to get this over with, as your hand was seated next to the handle of the briefcase, twitching every now and then as if you wanted to grab it and leave. In your mind, this ordeal was almost over, and you would soon be able to return home to your cohorts with your ill-gotten gains.

His attention was brought to the painting as he unwrapped it fully and pulled it up to inspect that it was the genuine article.

The painting was moderately sized and featured a scene that could likely be found on the cover of an average historical romance novel. At the center of the piece was a maiden upon a balcony, having just swung her legs over the railing as she sat atop it with her ankles peeking out beneath the skirt of her dress. A short distance beneath her was a knight upon his horse, reaching out to her as if beckoning her to take the leap, an assurance her that he would catch her. And in the background that featured a room that led to that balcony, a door had been forced open, with several men charging in, no doubt with the intent of grabbing the maiden before she could flee with her knight lover.

While the art of the painting was detailed and could be considered beautiful, and the piece certainly told a story, Illumi couldn't fathom how and why such a silly painting managed to cause so much trouble, much less why the owner was so incensed at it's theft that he was willing to pay so much for it's return. And if it had been that precious to him, why had Farley left it in that museum in the first place?

You leaned forward in your seat, scanning for any hint of change in his expression as he looked it over.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“It's acceptable.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You're spending eight billion and you just find it 'acceptable'?” you asked.

“All I care is that it's the genuine article,” he told you.

“Oh. Okay then.”

With a note of finality in your voice, you straightened up in your seat, your hand once more grasping the handle of the case as you said “so if you're satisfied, then we're done here, right? Transaction closed?”

Illumi nodded slowly.

“Yes, I suppose that's correct.”

“Okay then. Do you want to leave first, or should I? I'm fine if you want to go first, but I'm not sure how much time I should wait before leaving myself.”

“You aren't leaving,” he told you.

“…..”

The silence stretched out through the entirety of the room as you stared at him, your nerves slowly but steadily growing once again as you looked at him in confusion.

“But I need to take this back….?” you questioned.

“That isn't happening.”

“W-why?”

“Because I'm an assassin and I've been hired to kill you,” Illumi said, “therefore, I cannot allow you to leave this room with that case.”

You stared at him silently, your eyes widening in shock as his words sunk in. Your gaze went down to the floor as you began breathing heavily and you began to tremble. You accepted it. No questions about what he was talking about or if he was trying to joke around – you could tell he was serious.

Illumi was ready for you to do something in response. A normal reaction would likely be to run from him, either to escape out the door or the window. Both had their own pros and cons, though if it was Illumi in this situation, he would likely choose the window. Whether or not you would do the same remained to be seen. Though it was possible that you might choose to fight back, not that you would be able to do much against him. He had trained for as long as he had remembered, so no matter how strong you may potentially be, there was little chance that a civilian like yourself would be able to overpower him. The best you would be able to do would be to throw items in the room at him, and that would still be next to nothing.

He was overthinking things, because as he looked at you, he didn't see any ounce of fight in you. You were still gazing down at the floor, and while your breathing had slowed slightly, you were still in distress. If he were to guess, this must have been a worst case scenario for you, one that either the members of your group or you yourself had said couldn't possibly happen, that your luck wouldn't ever be so bad.

You even said that the client was a psychopath, so why you thought this wouldn't happen was still a mystery to him. At least he would make sure you wouldn't be making such terrible decisions in the future.

Illumi waited for you to act, already mapping out in his head what he would do in response to whatever you chose.

He waited.

And waited.

And Illumi felt confusion growing within him once more as you didn't act.

You weren't running.

Time was ticking by, and you stayed on that spot on the couch, only moving to slump backwards against the seat. Instead of attempting to save yourself from a man who just told you that he was an assassin, you stayed still, refusing to move at all. The exact opposite of running.

Illumi's brows furrowed as he asked “why aren't you running?”

You glanced up at him, surprised by his question.

“Why?” you repeated, “I guess…. I mean, what's the point? I'm in a room with you that has only one exit, and I'm pretty sure you'll catch me if I run. Actually, we had a conversation about that just a few minutes ago, didn't we? And you seemed to agree with me. So why should I bother making things worse for myself by running?”

He frowned, not liking the way you had given up so easily and accepted your fate.

“You won't even try to fight back?” he asked.

“Again, what's the point? I can tell just by looking that you're stronger than me. I don't wanna get into a fight that I know I'll lose,” you said.

Illumi blinked when you said that, hearing one of his own lessons that he had ingrained into his younger siblings coming from your lips catching him off guard momentarily. Despite not even knowing of him before this day, you already knew one of the lessons he had intended to teach you.

Within an instant, Illumi felt a bit more hopeful for you. While you seeming to accept your death was far from ideal, he was certain that he could make you unlearn that response.

You were his soulmate, after all. Teaching you would be easy.

“You do have a good point – I am stronger than you. As you are right now, you could never defeat me,” he told you.

You didn't react to his statement, instead continuing to stare down at the floor dejectedly.

“But it isn't good that you're giving up so easily. In the future, if you find yourself in this position again, you should find an escape route and remove yourself from the situation.”

At that, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him strangely.

“In the future?” you repeated, “what future? You said you were going to kill me.”

“I said that I was hired to kill you,” Illumi stated, “but that doesn't mean I'm going through with it.”

And with that, there was a bit of hope in your eyes, a bit of life breathed back into you as you straightened up, now watching and waiting intently for his every word as you now believed that there was a way out of this. Of course, there was, but it wouldn't be in the way you expected.

You gulped before you asked “you…. You're going to let me go?”

“No.”

Your shoulders sank again as Illumi continued with “I'm not killing you, but I also can't let you go. If I did that my client would find out and that would cause issues for myself and my family.”

“So then…. Then what? What happens to me? Why are you sparing me?” you asked.

“I need you alive,” he said.

“Why?”

“I'll explain that later.”

“Why?” you asked again, your voice growing a bit more fearful.

“Because I have no time to discuss it now,” he said plainly.

With that, he stood up and closed the distance between the two of you. You still didn't move when he approached, not even to scoot away to the other side of the couch. You simply sat there, cowering and fearful as you stared up at him.

“You said it was your roommate who put you up to this, correct?” he asked.

At that your eyes widened slightly before you frowned, only now realizing your slip up in having mentioned that fact.

“…. I shouldn't have said that, should I?” you asked.

Illumi nodded at you.

“In any other situation, that would have been a poor choice on your part,” he told you, “but it doesn't really matter all that much now. Your name as well as the others was already given to me. I was just made to go along with this so I could recover the painting.”

The assassin grabbed at your bag, opening it and rummaging through until he found your wallet. Shortly after he had your ID in hand, and he read the address that had been printed on the card.

“Is your roommate home right now?” he asked, not looking away from the card as he did so.

“….. I think so.”

“Will the others from your group be there?”

“I'm not sure.”

“I see.”

Illumi pocketed the card before looking back to you.

“… If I told you to trust me, I'd be demanding too much from you, wouldn't I?” he asked.

“…. A little bit, yeah,” you admitted.

Nodding at your answer, Illumi said to you “I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Then the assassin stood back up -

And with a quick strike of his hand at the back of your neck, you fell over on the couch as you were knocked unconscious.

Without missing a beat, Illumi pulled his cellphone from his pocket and went about dialing the number for the butler who was meant to pick him up once this part of the job was finished with. As expected, the call was picked up before the first ring had finished.

“I need you to come to the back of the Arcadia Hotel,” Illumi told the butler, not bothering with any sort of greeting or an explanation.

“Understood, Master Illumi. I'll be there within ten minutes,” they answered.

The call ended just as quickly as it had started, and Illumi looked back to you. Even in unconsciousness, you still appeared to be in distress as your brows were furrowed and you were frowning. Not even sleep could relieve you of your worries, and as he stared at you, Illumi felt an odd bit of anger rising in his chest. You were unprepared for such tasks like this one, yet those people – your roommate and whoever else was involved – had pushed you to do this regardless. They had been so irresponsible and careless that you had ended up on a hit list, and had it not been for Farley going to him specifically, someone else would have killed you.

You would have died easily had it not been for the strange coincidence of him being the one to take the job.

The thought of you dying made his anger worse, and for a brief moment, that rage seeped out, quickly filling the small space of the room and making the lights flicker from the force of it.

You didn't remain unaffected by it, either, as when you were hit with with the force of his anger, you shuddered in your sleep.

Within an instant, that anger petered out.

And without thinking, Illumi moved, hoisting you up into his arms and then settling back down onto the couch with you in his embrace. Your cheek rested against his chest while your pliant body molded against his in a comfortable fashion. An idle thought came to mind – with where your head was resting, were you able to hear his heartbeat that was next to your ear? Would you be able to tell such a thing as you were now?

That seemed to have broken Illumi out of his stupor as he blinked once again. Now truly taking in the sight of you on his lap, he realized he had acted on impulse, not really thinking about his actions when he had pulled you into his grasp. It felt strange. Physical acts like this one – to hold someone to himself – were not actions he was used to. Everyone within his family were inclined to keep physical contact to a minimum, and outside of his family, there was no one that he would allow to touch him, not without them paying for it after.

But with you, it had come naturally and with no hesitation on his part. One look at your face had driven him to hold you, as if to ease your distress while you slept. Such things that he was feeling for someone he hadn't even known an hour, and all because of a thread that you couldn't even see.

Illumi's hand went up to stroke your hair, his fingers trailing gingerly through the strands as he quietly murmured to himself “the soulmate bond is a strange thing indeed.”

Strange, that it would drive him to do something he had never once been inclined to do.

But at the same time, it felt good.

He stayed like that with you, holding you and caressing you gently. While the time passed by peacefully, the gloomy clouds that could still be seen outside the hotel room window parted, allowing the sun to filter in with a warm glow.

When Illumi's cellphone rang, it caught him off-guard. Pulling the phone out of his pocket, he found himself surprised when he saw that the aforementioned ten minutes had passed, and the butler was no doubt calling him to inform him that he had arrived.

Had the time truly passed so quickly?

His mouth set in a small frown as he lifted you back into his arms, adjusting you before he stood up and carried you out of the room.

Under normal circumstances, the butler wouldn't have needed to call for him for any reason. Any other time, Illumi would have been waiting at the aforementioned spot long before his ride would have arrived. That he had gotten so distracted simply from holding you was somewhat worrying, and he hoped this sudden distracted attitude was a one-time thing due to him finding you.

The butler he had called for was standing at the ready when Illumi walked out through the employee only door of the hotel, and they bowed respectfully when they saw him. Their gaze narrowed ever so slightly when they saw you unconscious in his arms, but they said nothing, waiting for their master to speak first.

Illumi did just that once he had reached them, stopping before them to ask “what is my schedule for the next few days?”

“During the time you spent with the target, another request came in for your services, Master Illumi,” the butler said, “two days from now, in the Kakin Empire.”

“Give it to Milluki; I'm sure whatever it is, he can handle it,” Illumi told them.

“And if Master Milluki is not available…?”

“He's always available. He never leaves home unless someone makes him.”

The butler nodded and listened intently as the assassin continued “don't bring me any assignments for the next few days. I need my schedule completely clear.”

“For this person, Master Illumi?” the butler asked as they once more looked at your unconscious form.

Illumi stared back to them intently as he said “this is my soulmate. You'll show them respect.”

At that, the butler immediately understood, bowing their head as they answered “of course, Master Illumi. My apologies.”

“You'll look after them while I complete my current job,” Illumi said, “should they wake up before I return, you will tend to their needs while keeping them safe.”

“Of course, Master Illumi.”

The butler then moved to take you from Illumi's arms, but stopped when he gave them a long, hard stare.

“Open the door,” the assassin ordered.

Moving quickly, the butler did just that, opening the back door and holding it wide for him. Illumi then carried you into the car's interior and set you down onto one of the long seats, handling you gently as he did so. As he pulled back and began to step out of the vehicle, he found that he was remiss to leave you. But as he still had a job to complete, there was nothing to be done about it.

After exiting the car, he waited for the butler closed the door before turning to them one last time.

“Don't speak of the discovery of my soulmate to anyone,” he ordered, “I will let my family know in my own time.”

One last time, the butler nodded in understanding, and they waited until Illumi began to leave the area before they took their place back in the driver's seat and drove off. Illumi couldn't help but take one glance behind himself as you were driven away. Despite knowing that with the way you were laid out on the backseat and that he wouldn't be able to see you, something still caused his head to turn as he watched the car move further away, as he watched the thread from within the vehicle become more slack with every bit of distance put between the two of you.

When he returned to the hotel room to grab the painting was when he realized another mistake, an oversight on his part. Illumi froze after he entered, catching sight of something on the couch where the both of you had been sitting not so long ago:

The briefcase.

With the eight billion jenny.

The jenny that had been Farley's payment for the job, that he had intended to give to that butler so he didn't need to drag it with him when he killed the other targets. Yet it remained on the couch.

Illumi had been so concerned with getting you to safety, he had managed to forget it completely.

Pursing his lips, a small scowl made its way onto his face as he stepped forward, determining that he had no choice and that he would need to take both the briefcase and the painting when he went to the apartment where your roommate was. It was obnoxious, but he wasn't going to call back the butler.

Admitting that he had forgotten something would be far too embarrassing.

The car was driving along a lonely stretch of the two lane highway while the sun slowly descended to the earth, casting the sky in golden colors as it sank lower and lower. It had been a while now since they had left the boundaries of the city, and there was still some time before they would reach the intended destination. But with a freshly filled gas tank and a driver who was more than capable of withstanding the hours of driving that were left on the journey, Illumi doubted that there would be any delays from this point. They would arrive at one of the Zoldyck's many homes in due time, and then Illumi could get to know you.

He was currently staring at you, just as he had been at the start of the journey. After the hit job that took longer than expected to complete due to his targets being spread out and the added stress of finding someone to act as a replacement for you – all taken care of with a single needle and the disfigurement to the heads – Illumi had been eager to see you again. Though there had been a slight disappointment on his end when he entered the car and saw that you were still unconscious, he quickly overcame that when he took advantage of your current state in order to place you so that your head rested on his lap.

Just like in the hotel room earlier, it wasn't an action that he was accustomed to – he had never considered doing something like that for someone before this – but with you, it felt right. Natural.

And as he lightly brushed his knuckles against your cheek while you slept soundly under his watch, he found that he felt content. After years of waiting, of fruitlessly searching, he finally found you. Not under the best circumstances, that was for certain, but seeing how things had ultimately turned out, it was all worth the wait.

Though there did remain the matter of your reaction once you had awoken and how you would receive him once he told you the truth.

A small frown once more graced his lips. Teaching you nen and showing you that way would be the best way to prove it to you, though it would take some time. While he had no issue spending that time, he felt another pang of disappointment hit him. He liked you as you were now; pliant and accepting of his touch, as more than once when he had stroked you, you had leaned into him, subconsciously seeking him out. It felt nice, an acknowledgment of the connection that some deeper part of you surely recognized. That you would likely be resistant to him once you were awake was a shame, but one that was unlikely to be avoided.

Learning about you wouldn't come about quickly, he feared. It would take time to tear down the walls you would no doubt build around yourself. So getting to know what you were really like, the areas in which the two of you were similar and the ways in which you differed, and the way that he hoped that you would be loving with him, as was so often spoken of, all of that would only come in time.

With that in mind, Illumi was making an effort to cherish this moment on the journey, when he could caress you all he wanted without you making a fuss.

But not long after, it seemed as though that moment was coming to an end.

He noted when you began to stir awake, your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth turning into a frown as your consciousness slowly but surely returned to you. With your head still resting on his lap, Illumi watched you intently, keeping his hand on your hair. The reaction you would have when you woke up was bound to be a bad one. You would likely remember most of what had happened before he had knocked you out and you would respond with that same fear as before once you saw that you were laying in the confines of such a small space with a man who had told you he'd been hired to kill you.

Illumi anticipated how you might lash out at him, perhaps attack him if you thought you might be able to catch him off guard. Although, based on the way you had reacted back at the hotel room, it wasn't hard to imagine that you might beg him to let you go, perhaps even cry while doing so.

The mental image of you with tears in your eyes had a bad taste form at the back of Illumi's mouth as he found that the thought displeased him.

…. Hm. Just from the thought alone?

His eyes went back to the thread that connected him to you, and once more he felt a small amount of amazement at how powerful the connection was already. But with you not knowing nen, how long would it take for you to sense it?

The fluttering of your eyelids had Illumi's gaze snapping back to your face, and once more he watched intently as you were now waking up.

The look he could see in your eyes when they first opened was best described as being dazed. For a few moments, you were looking around the interior of the car, but sleep still had some hold on your mind as no reaction from you as you did so. Not until your gaze drifted upwards and you caught sight of Illumi looming over you. And even then it took a few moments of you gazing at him before your mind truly became awake.

Illumi watched as the dazed look in your eyes dissipated, the sleepiness being replaced with wide eyed shock and horror as you remembered him, your once slack jaw tightening and the breath now coming out of you harsh and fast through your nose, betraying your utter panic. You had your full attention on the assassin, staring up at him and not daring to move, even when you realized just where he had chosen to place your head during the time you were unconscious.

He didn't like the way you looked at him, but Illumi supposed that he shouldn't blame you too much for that reaction. He also supposed that he would need to be the one to start a dialogue between the two of you, as you seemed too terrified to speak.

Yet you managed to do something unexpected.

With your voice croaking out of your throat and your lips barely moving, you managed to get out a single “hi.”

Illumi blinked in surprise, but then chose to copy you as he responded with a similar “hello.”

He stayed quiet after, giving you the opportunity to speak on your own again.

You did just that. After your gaze went back to your surroundings, you looked him in the eyes again as you mumbled out “we're in a car.”

“We are,” Illumi agreed.

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Why else would we be in a car?”

“Ah, right. Sorry. That was a stupid question.”

You were having an easier time speaking, though the wild look of panic in your eyes had yet to go away.

“Can I…. Can I ask where we're going?” you then said, your gaze now on what little you could see through the tinted windows.

“Somewhere safe.”

“…. Safe for who?”

“Safe for us both.”

You blinked.

“What does that mean?” you asked.

Illumi raised an eyebrow as he replied “I should think you would understand what that means. I don't believe I've said anything confusing.”

“I mean, well……”

You glanced away again before saying “it just feels like you're being a little vague with what you're saying. Plus, you could be lying to me.”

Illumi cocked his head as he asked “why do you think I'm lying?”

“You weren't being very truthful earlier,” you reluctantly answered.

He frowned at that.

“You're saying that I lied to you?” he asked.

You nodded.

“When did I lie?”

“With the whole exchange,” you mumbled, “you were pretending to be a buyer.”

“I never claimed to be. You only asked if I was there for 'the thing',” he pointed out.

“But you're an assassin.”

“I never said that I wasn't.”

“You lied by omission.”

Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.

“Not mentioning something counts as lying?”

“….. Yeah.”

That answer had come out more mumbled, as though you weren't willing to admit that he was right.

It was rather cute, but commenting on that fact was unlikely to be received well in that moment.

As you had quieted down, he took the opportunity to speak as he said “regardless of if I was lying or not earlier, I'm telling the truth when I say that I intend to keep both of us safe. I hope you believe me on that. It's the least you could do after the trouble you've caused for me today.”

You looked up at him in confusion as you repeated “trouble?”

Illumi nodded, repeating the word “trouble. With you getting on that hit list, you put me in an awkward situation.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“Oh. Sorry, I guess.”

You hadn't relaxed much since waking up, but it seemed to be a good sign that your voice wasn't shaking quite as much anymore.

“I never imagined I'd manage to fuck up badly enough to make things difficult for an assassin,” you added.

Under normal circumstances, Illumi would have considered such a reaction – such words – to be odd, especially coming from someone who knew that he had been hired to kill them. But as he thought on it more, perhaps it wasn't so strange. You were his soulmate, and while you had spent the majority of the car ride unconscious, perhaps the physical contact made with him keeping your head on his lap had been enough to awaken the connection subconsciously.

To test that, Illumi reached a hand towards your cheek, eager to see what your reaction would be. When you did nothing other than stare at his palm before it made contact with your skin, he felt as though he was proven correct. When he began to softly stroke your cheek and he felt you stiffen slightly before relaxing in his touch, the assassin couldn't help but smile.

This was going even better than he hoped.

Finally responding to your last statement, Illumi told you “it's alright. Everything managed to work work out regardless.”

“That's good, I guess.”

You gulped before taking in another breath, and then you spoke up again.

“Not that your lap isn't….. Comfortable, but are you okay if I sit up? Continuing the conversation like this feels awkward,” you said.

Despite not wanting to grant that request after enjoying the time he'd had with you in that position, Illumi pulled his arms away and leaned back slightly as he answered “of course.”

That you sat up immediately and scooted just a few inches away was again displeasing to Illumi, but he told himself that it was good that was all you were doing. That you were being so reasonable was a very good thing for himself, as well as for you.

Looking about the car once more, this time while sitting up, your gaze lingered briefly on the butler in the front seat, as though you hadn't noticed them before. Whatever you made of their presence was unknown as you tore your gaze away to look again at Illumi.

“Can I ask more questions or do you want me to shut up?” you asked.

“You may ask as many questions as you like,” Illumi told you, “I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“Ah. Okay. Um…”

Your fingers played with the hem of your shirt while you formulated your question, something Illumi found his gaze drawn to. He remembered the way in which you had toyed with the paper of the decoy parcel, and it seemed to him that you had a habit of fidgeting whenever you were nervous.

“You said…. You said you were hired to kill me, right?” you asked.

Illumi nodded.

“And you…. Didn't?”

“You're alive right now, aren't you?”

“I mean, I think so,” you said, “this would be one weird afterlife to end up in.”

“I just – I don't want to sound ungrateful,” you added, “but I have to admit that I'm really confused about why I'm still alive. I really thought I was going to die earlier – you said you'd been hired you to kill me, so I don't get why you didn't go through with that.”

“It's because I can't kill you,” Illumi answered.

You picked up on his choice of wording as you repeated “Can't? Not 'won't'?”

“Exactly. I can't.”

“Why?”

Without wasting a breath, Illumi said “because we're soulmates.”

Upon hearing that response, you didn't reply. You stared up at him blankly, blinking every now and then as though you were still processing his words. Seconds ticked by as you stayed like that, and Illumi stayed quiet in turn. As he had been telling himself before, he should anticipate a reaction of disbelief from you. Based on your current temperament, you likely wouldn't lash out, though if you were to do so, it would be from desperation and panic.

“Soulmates?” you repeated, “is that similar to love at first sight or something? You saw me and felt I was the one?”

“No. When I say we're soulmates, I mean that the two of us are literally soulmates.”

Illumi lifted up his left hand as he told you “there's a thread that spans the space between the both of us, that connects the two of us together. We're meant to be with one another.”

You looked to his hand and then to your own.

“I'm…. I'm not sure I see a thread,” you said.

“That's because you aren't able to yet, but it's there.”

“…… Oh.”

Illumi blinked at your lackluster reaction, wondering if that really was all you had to say about that.

But you next response was what truly surprised him, as after taking a moment to seemingly mull it over, you let out a small response that simply consisted of a single word.

“Okay.”

Illumi blinked again and he stared at you, uncertain if he had really heard you say what he thought you said. Even the butler who had remained quiet throughout the whole exchange glanced back with a puzzled expression on their face.

Upon seeing his reaction, your eyebrows furrowed and your anxiety began to build again.

“Was…. Should I not have said that?” you asked, “were you really joking when you said that?”

Your question snapped Illumi out of his slight stupor.

“I wasn't joking,” Illumi clarified, “I'm telling the truth. You're my soulmate.”

Upon hearing him again, you nodded slightly as you let out a soft breath. And then you said it again.

“Okay.”

…. You were accepting it that easily?

Illumi wasn't sure what to say, and that in of itself was strange for him.

He must have been looking at you strangely again because your nerves only continued to grow.

“Did I say something wrong? You don't seem very happy,” you said.

“… I'm a little surprised,” Illumi admitted, “I thought it would take more to convince you on account of you being unable to see the thread yourself, at least at this moment in time.”

“Ah, I guess that is a little weird,” you said, scratching the back of your neck as you added “but if that's what you say is the truth, then I'll believe you.”

“You'll believe me?” Illumi repeated.

“Y-yeah. I mean, if you kill people for a living and you chose not to kill me, then you must have had a good reason not to, right? And if you say that it's because we're soulmates, then I'll trust that that's the truth. You told me to believe in you, right?”

Remembering his words from earlier, he nodded in agreement as he confirmed “I did say that.”

You nodded in turn as you said “so I believe you.”

It looked as though you were going to say something further after reiterating that last point, but when you opened your mouth, you seemed to reconsider whatever you had planned on saying. So you shut your mouth and remained silent while you went back to fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, though you made an effort to relax yourself as you leaned against the back of the seat.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I'm fine,” you said, “it's a bit much to take in, but I'll manage.”

You then spoke up once more as you asked “can I ask another question?”

“Of course.”

“What happened to my roommate and the others?”

“They're dead.”

You went quiet after Illumi's blunt response, and though he could see that you were once more attempting to keep your expression level, the panic in your eyes was easy to spot.

“Their bodies will have been handed over to the client by now, as well as the painting that your friends stole,” he said.

“…. But…. Does he know about me? Or did you not tell him?” you asked.

“I told you before: he was already aware of your involvement. He knew all of you, and he could have disposed of you on his own. He went out of his way to choose me because he wanted you four to suffer,” Illumi answered, “but not to worry. I found a solution in your case. Farley has no idea that you aren't dead. Even if the unlikely happens and he comes across you, he wouldn't dare do anything to you, not if he wants to risk bringing down the wrath of the Zoldyck family upon him. Once we are married and you have my name, he'll be none the wiser.”

Unfortunately, it didn't appear that you truly heard him, as when he told you that you could have been disposed of earlier, a look of dread passed over you and sweat started to bead on your neck. When your breathing grew harsher, he grew concerned once more. And when you suddenly clamped both of your hands over your mouth, Illumi stopped speaking completely, his gaze narrowing in question.

“What is it?” he asked.

“….. Could we pull over?” you asked back, your voice muffled by your hands.

Upon hearing that, Illumi grew suspicious as he asked “why?”

“I'm gonna throw up.”

“…. Oh.”

Within seconds the car had pulled over to the side of the deserted road, and a few mere moments after that you were on your knees in the nearby grass, your arms holding yourself up as you violently emptied the contents of your stomach, gagging while tears began to fall down your cheeks.

Perhaps there had been something in that drink you had gotten at the cafe that didn't agree with you, Illumi thought to himself. Though regardless of the cause it wasn't an ideal look, especially not for someone who was going to marry into the Zoldyck family. But he found himself willing to forgive you for it. You would need to learn to toughen up but for the time being…. For the time being he would offer you some grace and refrain from commenting on it.

It also might ensure everything would go smoothly between the two of you if he treated you gently.

He then caught sight of the way the butler was looking at you. They were still at their place at the door, holding it open with a water bottle in hand that was clearly intended for you. But as they gazed at the state you were in, there was an obvious look of disgust in their eyes. As they watched you while you were on your knees and retching, it was clear that they thought little of you, clear that they felt you were unworthy of the position within the family that they served.

A rush of anger swelled within the assassin when he saw that look.

The butler noticed instantly when Illumi fixed his death glare upon them, and they were quick to bow their head in submission, wordlessly apologizing to him for their transgression.

Neither said anything, though the butler did visibly tense when Illumi approached him. Instead of disciplinary action, the assassin simply snatched the bottled water from the butler's hand before making his way to your side. Once your vomiting spell had come to an end and you were merely left gasping and coughing, he had knelt down beside you, holding the water out for you.

“Drink. Vomiting leads to dehydration,” he told you.

You took the bottle without question, using it first to wash out the taste in your mouth before gulping down half of the contents in several long gulps. When you pulled the bottle away to breathe out through your mouth in what sounded like relief, Illumi placed his hand on your back and rubbed it soothingly.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked after a moment.

It took you a moment to respond to his question, but you eventually nodded 'yes'.

“That's good.”

Illumi's hand settled on your shoulder as he then asked “do you think you can get back into the car?”

That time, the moment you took to answer was even longer than the last one, but once more you gave a nod in response.

“Sorry for making you stop,” you answered as you pulled yourself to your feet, “I figured you didn't want vomit covering your nice seats.”

“It wouldn't have mattered. Such things can either be cleaned or replaced,” Illumi answered.

He tilted his head to the side as he asked “do you need me to carry you?”

Once more you froze for a brief second, but then you shook your head and gave him a small smile as you answered “the car isn't that far away. I'll be fine walking.”

“Thank you for offering, though,” you quickly added.

“Of course.”

Though secretly, Illumi wished you had said 'yes'.

It was made up for soon after once you were both sitting in the car's interior once more. When Illumi sat down next to you, close enough that his arm was brushing against yours, you didn't make any move to get away from him, instead allowing him to remain close.

As the car started up again and began to drive off, you spoke up to ask “does anyone else know about this?”

“That you were my target?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Only you, myself and the butler. And they won't inform anyone,” Illumi told you confidently.

“But doesn't the client know me?” you asked.

“The matter for the client has been settled. I very much doubt he will remember your name or your face come tomorrow.”

“So as long as I stay with you, I'll be safe,” you said, seeming to state that fact out loud more to yourself.

Illumi replied anyway, saying “of course. Protecting one's soulmate is only natural.”

You nodded in understanding again while you fiddled with the water bottle, picking at the plastic labeling with your fingernails.

You weren't completely at ease then, Illumi determined. Despite what you had told him, there was something that was making you nervous, and he found himself thinking that perhaps it was him. You were the one who had said he was scary, after all.

It was a shame that you would lie and say the things you thought he wanted to hear, but once again he told himself that this was still better than what he had been expecting. Even if you weren't being truthful, you were being compliant, and that made things easier for him, as opening the connection for you would be less difficult if you weren't fighting him.

He wanted to talk with you more, learn more about you and get to know how you truly felt about all of this-

But as had now become a pattern, what you did next surprised him.

You leaned against him, the tension in your body slowly leaving while he felt the weight of your cheek resting on his shoulder.

Illumi blinked, looking down at you with his lips parted slightly as he felt a warmth blooming in his chest from the contact. Just as it had those times before, the feeling of you against him was strangely intoxicating. But unlike earlier, this time you were conscious for this moment, and not only that, you had been the one to initiate it.

He noted the way your eyes flitted about and how your expression grew in worry upon seeing his reaction. It seemed as though you were going to pull away.

He was fast to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you in closer.

You stiffened slightly, but eventually relaxed as you shifted to a more comfortable position, resting your head against him once again, though there was still a hint of that tension in you.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice low.

“….. It's a little scary that you could've killed me,” you told him.

“Ah, I suppose it was,” he admitted.

Illumi leaned back into the seat while continuing “it was the last thing I had ever expected. To think, that my client would hire me to kill my own soulmate. How are odds like that even possible?”

You stayed quiet after that, but when he glanced back down at you, he saw the gears in your head turning.

“…. Maybe you were supposed to get me as a target,” you then said.

“Of course I was supposed to; Farley hired me specifically,” he told you.

“No, I mean….”

You turned in your seat to face him fully, which came as an annoyance to him as you pulled away from him slightly. You then clarified “with us being soulmates, we were supposed to come together eventually, right? Maybe… Maybe my getting mixed up in that and you being hired was meant to be. Maybe if that hadn't happened, we never would have met. Like fate.”

Illumi blinked.

Then he gazed up while he grasped his chin thoughtfully as he considered your words.

“I hadn't thought of that,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“No. I was far too focused on getting out of the situation to consider that,” he admitted, “but with the unlikeliness of it all, that may very well be the only explanation.”

Illumi looked back to you, smiling as he said, “I think you're right.”

You smiled in response.

It was the second time you had done so, and once again, it was tinged, tainted somewhat, with that hint of fear. It confirmed to him that you were saying what you thought he wanted you to, making an effort to play nice with him. But even if your words had been born out of that, they rang more true than you thought.

You would come to that realization at a different time.

Illumi pulled you in again, and you didn't resist as he did so. With you comfortably resting against him once more, he found that he felt at peace. He finally had what he had been searching for – his illusive soulmate, brought to him under the most unexpected circumstances, but still sitting safely in his arms.

While you weren't as receptive to his words as you were portraying yourself to be, Illumi was certain that he could change that.

And he was certain that would take no time at all.