Joelle Joestar

˚₊‧꒰ა His jealousy is barely there. At the same time, he doesn’t want to appear overprotective and the annoying type of lover who watches your every move. There is a level of trust he bestows upon you, so don’t break it. But he can’t help but feel irritated whenever a lower-rank officer stands too close, breathes in your direction, makes you laugh and smile a bit too much, or addresses you without your titles.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wants his empire to see and know, not by only mere whispers, that he has chosen someone to stand at his side in the new world. His kisses and touches are possessive, but not the frightening kind. The ones that are domineering, wanting you to understand that he is yours, and you are his.

˚₊‧꒰ა His decision to be with you was not something to be viewed lightly. He meant to be with you to the very end of all time. There was no backing out or breaking up. It was until death do you part. That’s how he viewed his relationship with you. Whether you married him or not.

˚₊‧꒰ა Marriage to him wasn’t anything of great importance. Everyone already knew you belonged to him, so there wasn’t a need to question whether or not you were his. You. Were. His. However, should you request a wedding because you wanted the experience, it would be quite regal.

˚₊‧꒰ა Banners everywhere, the entire guards in their royal attire, assembled to witness their Empire tie himself to his partner. He will, for once, forgo the tattered cloak, as he waits for you at the altar to speak your vows and exchange rings. Might forgo rings and use the Quincy Cross instead.

˚₊‧꒰ა One minute you’re talking to the officer and the next, the poor Soldat is on their knees, grovelling, under the weight of Yhwach’s reiatsu. He’ll stand at the other end of the room or sit on his throne with a smug expression as he regards the insolent fool who thought for a second that they had a chance. You’re lucky if he doesn’t kill them right before your eyes in a blur.

˚₊‧꒰ა He probably has done so a few times when he was already in a terrible mood and saw some lowly, insolent fool trying their hand. Gone in an instant, while you’re left standing there, horrified, covered in specks of blood. The number of arguments you had with him for getting you messed up…you weren’t even fazed by him killing his men. You were accustomed to it by now.

˚₊‧꒰ა He demands loyalty. It is expected of anyone who enters his army, and you are not spared from his heavily implied demand for loyalty. “You are my equal. One I have not chosen lightly. I expect that you understand the weight this bears and what must be returned,” he states while he holds your chin and lifts your head upwards to meet his crimson eyes.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do not mistake my silence for disinterest,” he mutters one evening after you questioned him about his lack of interest in your indulges. He was someone who valued efficiency, not priding himself on the unnecessary, but it changed when you entered the picture. However, he prefers to sit back and observe you in your element as you engage in your enjoyment. “If I did not care, I would not be here.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Very observant when it came to you, to the point that it might become unsettling due to his accuracy. Even before he lost his Almighty, he already had the inclination to what was wrong before you even came to him. And when you were troubled, he rarely spoke, letting you express yourself as you saw fit while he held you closely. A tender, “I am listening,” should you hesitate.

˚₊‧꒰ა In private, his touch withdraws from possessive and domineering to something reverent and tender—he has to opportunity to appreciate you in all your glory. “You feel soft. You feel like mine,” he muttered, lying on his bed, you’re the only person allowed in his room, he’ll hold you close and bask in the tranquillity. Your scent, your softness, your presence, your voice, everything about you.

˚₊‧꒰ა His touch would be slow, deliberate, and never rushed as he traces his fingers over your pulse as if he was memorising the rhythm, grounding himself in the fact that you were real and here with him still.

˚₊‧꒰ა He melts into your touch anytime you run your fingers through his hair, combing and brushing it out after he had a long, tedious day. Um…you’re not going to get through with styling it—that I am absolutely positive on. Help him wash and tidy his hair, keeping him groomed and pristine, and that’s all. Mayhap a single braid to display the true length and fullness of his hair.

˚₊‧꒰ა You did not soften him, nor did you change him. He remained the man he always was—unyielding, pragmatic, a force of nature that could not be swayed. But you gave him something he had not had in millennia: someone to return to.

˚₊‧꒰ა Yhwach was not a man of apologies, nor did he see the point in them. If he wronged you, he would rectify it through actions rather than words. A rare instance of compromise, and unspoken acknowledgement of fault—it was his way of making amends. Of course, this also included gifts and being spoilt.

˚₊‧꒰ა Nothing that ever came from Yhwach was done without meaning. Each gift provided carried a weight of something sentimental and meaningful—never a person to do things half-heartedly. If you received an entire library, he understood you enjoyed reading. If you had an entire wing of the palace dedicated to you, he respected that you appreciated tranquillity and not being bothered. “Tell me what you desire, and I will ensure you are well cared for, engel.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Please do not get injured. He already trusts you when you go out there to participate in recruiting Quincies and fighting other battles, knowing that you are strong and capable of holding your own ground. The last thing he needed to hear was you returning, injured or on the brink of death.

˚₊‧꒰ა The assailant will no longer be permitted to live—that much is understandable. As for you, he will never stop talking about how you got yourself wounded and nearly killed. Deep down, it’s his way of letting you know his concern, though he wouldn’t come outrightly and spill the beans. “Do you have any idea how foolish that was of you! If you had died—”

˚₊‧꒰ა You have to compete with Jugram on who can be more loyal to Yhwach. You also have to deal with Jugram cautiously nitpicking the things you do that he suspects will upset His Majesty, only for you to rub it in his face that you have permission. The bickering between you two is endless, and Yhwach gets a kick out of how you make his right-hand man composure falter.

˚₊‧꒰ა Uses sweet names with you. ‘Schatz, engel, liebchen, geliebter, Kleine,’ and so forth. They will be whispered sweetly into your skin as he holds you closely, shielding you from the world, wishing that you are not taken from him as so many others have in the past.

˚₊‧꒰ა “You are the only person I will ever tolerate,” he admitted once when you questioned why he allowed you to disrupt his calculated life. “The only anomaly I choose not to erase. You are meaningful to me.” It was not the traditional declaration of love one would expect, but from him, it was everything.

˚₊‧꒰ა When he speaks about the future of the empire, he always remembers to include you at his side in his declarations. Wherever he goes, you’re at his side, or a few steps behind him. He will seek your counsel when he requires the voice of someone who understands his ambitions.

˚₊‧꒰ა Values your insight apart from Haschwalth and will request your presence whenever meetings are being held. Speaking of which, his pride surges anytime he stands aside, observing you commanding his men with confidence. Accepting your role as a leader at his side.

˚₊‧꒰ა Like I mentioned, he is possessive and any chance he has to display it, he will not hesitate. One of his best ways to convey this is through kisses. They are rough and possessive—his grip on you tightens and becomes firm, unyielding as he pins you against any surface or to his chest. You’re not allowed to move until he’s finished.

˚₊‧꒰ა Loves to hear you speak about him. Basically glorifying and praising this man gets him turned on and pleased. He loves it (if you hadn’t noticed from the way everyone spoke highly of him). Once again, you’re only competition is Jugram.

「 ❤︎ NSFW Headcanons ❤︎ 」

˚₊‧꒰ა Okay, first and foremost, his cock is massive, thick with a prominent vein running along the underside. The length stretches far past what any normal person could handle comfortably, and the girth is there to ensure that you will feel every inch. He’s not for the faint-hearted.

˚₊‧꒰ა He possesses a dominating aura that naturally demands submission, his presence alone is enough to make you feel utter claim even before he lays a hand on you. Yhwach doesn’t submit and he isn’t, EVER. This man fucked like he was conquering you, like he had to claim you each time he took you.

˚₊‧꒰ა He commanded pleasure as if it was his divine right, orchestrating every cry, every gasp, every trembling orgasm with ruthless precision. He did not tolerate disobedience in bed—if you dared to tease or deny him, he would pin you down, wrench your legs apart, and fuck submission into your very core.

˚₊‧꒰ა He relished bending you to his will, your body trembling, voice hoarse from begging. His favourite thing to you would be having a hand wrapped around your throat, just to remind you of where you belonged and to who. And when he did take you, it would mostly be face-down, ass-up, where you had no choice but to take what he gave.

˚₊‧꒰ა Dirty talking was something he did all the time, but it was mostly done under his possessive streak. His words were always punctuated with, ‘Mine,’ or ‘My,’ anytime he was whispering filth in your ear. Enjoying the way you squeezed him tighter with each word that escaped his lips.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Look at you, ruined, dripping with my cum. You think you can take another man after this? You’re mine, Kleine (little one).” “You were made to take my cock, weren’t you? Every time I fuck you, you mould around me like you were built for it.” If you dared to argue, he would silence you with a harsh thrust, fucking the words out your throat until all you could do was moan his name.

˚₊‧꒰ა Yhwach isn’t someone who’s sex-craven, so it’s not all the time isn’t interested in indulging. So most of time, you’re the one to rile him up, get him in the mood and all worked up. Tease him under the table during a meeting, be a brat, wear something he’ll lose his mind over, display your confidence and authority, and you will get bent over the table or his throne.

˚₊‧꒰ა Whether he was frustrated or calm, his stamina was unmatched and there was no mercy in his pace. He was relentless—hard, fast, and deep with a rhythm that left no room for anything but pleasure and submission. He reaches deep and makes you feel him all the way in your tummy (you’re gonna have a tummy ache), and with the way he can go for hours, never tiring, you’re becoming an overstimulated, trembling mess.

˚₊‧꒰ა Yhwach never did things half-assed, so when he was going all out, he expected suitable responses. Meaning: moan, cry, whimper, whine, scream, sob, and beg. He wants to hear you sing as he pleasured you, thoroughly. “Just like that, my love. Let me hear you,” he’ll groan in delight as he pushes himself deeper.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s a man who loves lingerie, and more the simpler pieces like the satin nightgowns with lace trimmings, perhaps a silk babydoll piece that compliments your figure. That’s not to say he doesn’t have an affinity for the lingerie that contains garter belts, more pieces and whatnot, he’s a simple man when it comes to what turns him on. You could wear anything, and he’s sprung—of course, he does have his preferences.

  ˚₊‧꒰ა Okay, so it is probably known that he has a HUGE thing for breeding. And for him, it’s done out of claiming you, and ruining you so no one else will ever satisfy you the way he does. Also, he doesn’t believe in making a mess when he’s so generous when it comes to giving you his cum. The least you could do is be stuffed by it.

˚₊‧꒰ა It is his way of marking you as well—the best way. He wants you dripping with a bulge in your belly, and one orgasm was never enough. He will fill you over and over until his cum was stuffed in every crevice. No part of you was going to be left untouched, which meant that if you were into anal, he’ll fill you up there as well and then stand back and watch as his cum dripped out your holes.

˚₊‧꒰ა Very quietly, he’ll reach out to run his fingers over your skin, smiling as you trembled from the sheer intensity of everything, and spread your legs wider so he can have a better view of his cum oozing out. His fingers would dip into the mess as he moved to finger your pussy into another orgasm as if the nth number you had wasn’t enough. He liked the sound of your heat squelching as he fucked his cum into you and into another orgasm.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Look at you, dripping like you still want me to stuff you more. You’d like that, won’t you?” he’ll murmur and tangle his fingers in your hair, forcing you to look at him. “You want more? Ruin this pussy and make it mine?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Now, with the breeding, Yhwach wouldn’t mind engaging for the sake of you carrying on his legacy, giving him an actual heir made from his flesh, and not just blood only. He would like the idea behind it; however, he tends to use breeding as more possessiveness and marking.

˚₊‧꒰ა When it comes to other forms of marking you, look forward to him spanking you for all those times you’ve been a brat or just sassed him. Some bite marks would surface on your kiss, followed by hickeys by the dozens. Show them off, he likes it when you do. “Let everyone know who you belonged to. No one would dare question my claim.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Ah, how can I forget. He got you a necklace, and or, anklet, so when he’s fucking you with your legs over his shoulders, his name dangles right by his ear. Letting you know who was making you feel so good, and having you cry all over his cock.

˚₊‧꒰ა Not a loud or vocal person, apart from the dirty talking. I don’t know. He doesn’t strike me as the type to moan, something about it makes him feel like he’s losing his control and dominance. Anyway, if you DO want him to moan, on your knees and put that mouth to use, and all that talk about him not moaning would become false.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Do not mistake the sounds from my throat for a loss of con—” It’s one of the easiest ways to make him lose himself since his control is otherworldly. He can never stay silent for too long, and soft grunts and groans will escape his mouth. Should you point them out, teasing him, he’ll push your head back down to take his cock and shut you up. It’s clear that he doesn’t enjoy being called out—so do it.

˚₊‧꒰ა The reward is promising. A nice session bent over his throne or he makes you ride him until he decides to take over. Something he indulges in quite often—and I’m referring to having you ride him on his throne. Since he’s there for most of the day, he invited you to sit on his lap and make yourself comfortable.

˚₊‧꒰ა He doesn’t rush, or command you, but should you start taunting him, he’ll press you against his chest and bind your wrists behind your back while he thrusts upwards at a blinding speed. Moan and cry out to him, “It’s what you wanted from the start, isn’t it, Kleine? That’s why you came to see me.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Other positions he would love to see you in, apart from face-down, ass-up and riding him: against a wall where he can lift your legs off the ground, bent over a table, bed, desk and mating press. He obviously wants all those positions where you’re helpless and he can pin you under or against him, left with no choice but to take his deep and hard thrusts.

˚₊‧꒰ა Something that he enjoys doing is binding your hands and legs with reishi. He’ll scoff if you held up a rope or handcuffs as you request to be tied up and opt for binding yours with reishi. You looked prettier in blue.

˚₊‧꒰ა When you’re at his mercy, all tied up on his bed with lustful eyes, he wants nothing more than to worship and ruin you at the same time. His mouth will devour every inch of you, leaving no part untouched, and in the same way he enjoys when you go down on him, it is returned with equal fervour.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wouldn’t spend eternity between your legs, preferring for his cock to do that instead, but he’s wickedly good with his mouth and savours the act of your clamping your thighs around his head when the pleasure escalated. Although, he would rather you kept your legs spread nice and wide for him, he wants an obstructive view of the task at hand. You’re not in control, he is.

˚₊‧꒰ა His goal for to have you hypersensitive, wanting a mess all over his face, seeing your trembling, clutching the sheet for dear life and struggling to breathe. He wants to reduce you to the ultimate mess—fuels his ego and makes him want to push you further.

˚₊‧꒰ა When he’s finished, you will be left feeling like jelly, melting into the mattress with no concept of where you are—he’s thorough. Yhwach will keep you close, holding you against his chest, fingers trailing over your sweat-soaked skin, murmuring quiet reminders of who you belonged to, and how well you did. Small, gentle kisses along your skin while his fingers squeezed your muscles, a rare show of affection reserved only for you.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @edensrose @spellboundsuguru @kennys-partner @cookielovesbook-akie

he doesn’t like when you touch him now, he doesn’t like when you so much as look at him too long either. satoru tries to act like it doesn’t bother him, pretends as if he isn’t averting his eyes from your piercing gaze, ignores the quivering of his lip as if he’s about to burst into tears any second, hides the shaking of his hands the best he can by balling them into fists — but you see it, you see it all, you see him, your husband, not something ugly as he makes himself out to be.

he thinks his behavior isn’t obvious, brushing it off with a strained curve of his lips and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, but you know when there’s something wrong with the man you married, your other half. and as if your soul can sense it too, it breaks you. satoru loved going out and hated staying in, but now that’s all he seems to do these days, scared to show himself to the world and be put under those judgemental stares once more.

you do everything in your power to show him you think the very opposite. not a single spot on his body remains unclaimed from your lips, not one area denied worship in your eyes. how can you make him listen when you say that nothing else in the world matters except you and him? how you find him just as attractive as the day you met him, that you wish to make him forget those marks on his back exist by replacing them with your very own with your nails, clawing them into his beautiful skin because regardless how he feels about himself, he never fails to show you just how much he loves you each and every night? to show him and the rest of the world how your satoru is far from ugly?

The bar was shrouded in shadows, the faint flicker of a red neon sign casting eerie shapes on the cracked floor. You pushed through the heavy door, the creak of its hinges slicing through the muffled hum of conversation. The smoky air wrapped around you like a warning, but you ignored it, your heels clicking softly as you approached the bar.

Two men sat at the far end of the bar, framed by the flickering light. One of them lounged lazily, a grin stretched across his lips—Hisoka. Beside him, the other man sat perfectly still, an eerie contrast to Hisoka’s theatrics. Illumi who absentmindedly wrapped his hair around his finger while Hisoka teased him, clearly enjoying the moment.

Illumi’s needle hung from his robe as usual, while his other hand rested casually on his knee, ever ready to strike if necessary.

“Illumi, don’t be so dull. Where’s the fun in that?” Hisoka chuckled, looking amused.

“Be quiet, before I make you” Illumi replied, rolling his eyes in annoyance, still sipping his drink.

Hisoka’s gaze snapped to you almost instantly when he sense your nen, knowing exactly that you are Y/N,  his grin unfurling like a blade hidden in silk. He adjusted his suit jacket with deliberate flair, the faint gleam in his eyes hinting at both curiosity and danger.

‘Well, well, look what we have here,’ he purred, stepping toward you with unsettling grace.”

“A lovely lady, all alone and ripe for the picking.”

He extended his hand towards you, offering it with a gentlemanly air, though a glint of mischief danced in his eyes. Illumi remained seated, his gaze flicking between you and Hisoka, his needle twitching slightly, as though he were anticipating whatever might happen next.

You raised an eyebrow at Hisoka’s bold approach, your crimson lips curling into a smirk. A small part of you felt uncertain—there was something about this situation that didn’t sit right. “And just what do you think you're 'picking'?” you asked, your voice calm, but with an edge of challenge. Despite the unease creeping at the back of your mind, you accepted his hand.

Hisoka's grin widened at your firm handshake, a spark of amusement lighting up his eyes. “Oh, my dear, I’m not sure yet. But I have a feeling you’re going to make this evening very... interesting,” he said, leaning in a bit closer, his voice turning husky. “Care to join me and my friend for a drink? We can discuss the possibilities.”

Meanwhile, Illumi remained passive, watching the exchange with interest. His eyes flickered between you and Hisoka, seemingly impassive. His needle quivered faintly as though waiting for the right moment to strike. When your gaze met his, Illumi simply studied you with his trademark unreadable expression, the coolness of his stare sending a chill through the air.

Your eyes lingered on the Illumi’s needle, his cold presence making your pulse quicken. There was something unsettling about the stillness in his posture—it was like he was watching you with the precision of a predator. A chill ran down your spine, and despite the intrigue it sparked, you couldn’t deny the sense of danger radiating from him. Your heart beat a little faster, the unease creeping up on you, yet you couldn’t look away.

“You seem... interesting,” Hisoka said playfully, glancing over at Illumi with a mischievous glint. “Our friend here looks like he’s already sizing you up. No need to worry about him,” he added, with a wink.

You turned to Illumi, your gaze steady, though you felt a slight unease at his intense observation. The silence between you two was thick with unspoken tension. His presence was imposing, yet you couldn’t look away.

“Well now,” you said, breaking the silence. “A drink won’t hurt.”

You slid into the stool next to Illumi, crossing your legs and leaning back slightly, still feeling his piercing gaze on you.

Hisoka clapped his hands together clearly pleased with your response. “Excellent choice! Another round for us, bartender,” he called, signaling for more drinks.

Illumi remained silent, his posture relaxed but alert. He regarded you with the same intense focus, his gaze sharp, as if assessing you on some deeper level.

“So, tell me” Hisoka said, returning to his seat beside you after collecting the drinks. “What brings a stunning woman like yourself to a place like this? Looking for adventure, perhaps?” Hisoka’s question was light, but the underlying curiosity was clear.

You took a slow sip of your drink, never breaking eye contact with Illumi. His attention was making you feel uneasy, but you stayed composed. You couldn’t help but wonder: why was he playing with that needle? What was his deal?

After a moment, you turned to Hisoka, offering him a small, confident smile. “Just passing through, waiting for a friend,” you replied smoothly, your voice calm but with a hint of mystery. “What about you two?”

Hisoka chuckled, sipping from his own glass. “Just enjoying the finer things in life: good company, fine liquor,” he said, winking at you playfully. “Perhaps a little entertainment, if you’re in the mood.”

Illumi, on the otherhand, didn’t respond verbally. He simply tilted his head slightly, studying you with a gaze that felt as though he were trying to see through you. The needle twitched once more, drawing lazy circles in the air, as if testing the limits of the tension between you.

The silence stretched on, uncomfortable, until Illumi finally spoke. “Your friend had better hurry,” he said, his voice cold and flat. “This isn’t a safe place for someone like you to linger.”

His words were cryptic, but there was an edge to them, something that made your skin prickle.

You glanced at Illumi, your eyes narrowing. “Someone like me?” you asked, not sure if you were being threatened or warned. Hisoka, sensing the tension, stepped in to break the silence.

“Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions,” he said with a soft chuckle, placing a calming hand on Illumi’s shoulder. “Our guest seems perfectly capable of handling yourself. Aren’t you, Y/N?”

Hisoka’s tone was light, but there was a subtle edge beneath the words, as though he, too, were aware of the growing competition for your attention.

You noticed the way Hisoka’s touch on Illumi’s shoulder seemed both friendly and possessive. It was clear they had some sort of complicated relationship, and you were caught in the middle of it. But what caught your attention, is that they know your name, but you decide not to speak about it.

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.”

Despite Hisoka’s attempt to downplay the situation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something more complicated was at play here.

You looked at Illumi’s mocking smile, the chill creeping up your spine at his tone. You turned back to Hisoka, trying to ease the tension. “I’m not sure I buy that,” you murmured to yourself, then smiled at Hisoka, attempting to lighten the mood. “But thanks for the intervention.”

Hisoka chuckled, clearly unfazed by the tension. “Ah, always so perceptive, aren’t you?” He raised his glass in a toast. “To new acquaintances and the intriguing games we play, hmm?”

The tension between the three of you remained thick in the air. Illumi leaned back in his seat, watching you intently, his needle still tracing lazy patterns in the air.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you asked, trying to shift the focus back to Hisoka. You could feel his eyes flickering over you, sensing your curiosity.

Hisoka grinned, clearly pleased by the question. “Oh, I dabble in many pursuits,” he said. “Collecting rare artifacts, attending underground fights, savoring exquisite cuisine...” He paused, letting the words hang in the air for dramatic effect. “And occasionally, I provide a... more exclusive form of entertainment for those who know how to appreciate certain... unique talents.”

His words were playful, but there was a sense of pride in them, as if he relished in his dangerous lifestyle.

As you turned to Illumi, you could feel the weight of his silent gaze. His presence was suffocating, and you sensed the layers of his mystery, but he didn’t respond.

“What about your friend?” you asked, your tone casual, but with a trace of challenge. The air between you two thickened.

Hisoka’s grin widened, but he avoided giving you a direct answer. “Illumi here is a man of many talents,” he said vaguely. “He has a... certain calling in life.”

Before you could ask more, Illumi stood up abruptly, the scraping of his chair on the floor making you tense.

“Enough idle chatter,” he said coldly. “If you’re done prattling, perhaps our host has something more stimulating in store for us.”

He turned and began to walk toward the exit, leaving an unsettling silence in his wake. You watched him leave, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. His mention of a "host" caught you off guard. Who was he talking about? The way he spoke suggested something far more serious than a casual meeting, but you couldn't place the connection yet.

“Well, that was certainly an interesting introduction,” you said to Hisoka, trying to shrug off the discomfort.

Hisoka chuckled, unbothered by Illumi’s abrupt exit. “Yes, Illumi can be a bit... intense,” he said. “But don’t worry, he means no harm... unless provoked.”

Hisoka leaned closer to you, his breath warm against your ear. “I find your reaction to him quite fascinating,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “You’re more than just a pretty face, aren’t you?”

You turned your gaze back to Hisoka, intrigued by his words, but still uncertain of where this night would lead.

“Well, I've faced worse than his eccentric personality,” you smile jokingly.

Hisoka’s grin widened, clearly amused by your bravery. “Is that so? I’d love to hear more about these ‘worse’ encounters of yours. Perhaps over dinner, hmm?”

He signaled the bartender for another round of drinks. As they waited for their refreshments, Hisoka continued to regale you with outrageous tales of his adventures, each one more bizarre and captivating than the last.

Meanwhile, Illumi re-entered the bar, his expression as inscrutable as ever. He slid onto the stool next to you, his presence subtly overwhelming. Despite the physical space between you, you couldn’t escape the weight of his gaze, as if he were silently dissecting your every movement.

You glanced at him as he returned, going back to the host he’d mentioned earlier—but of course, you had no idea what he meant by that. There was something about the way he had said it, a certain expectation, as if his presence here was tied to more than just a casual meeting.

You noticed Hisoka’s quick, subtle gesture when Illumi sat down—a nearly imperceptible nod, as if confirming something without words. It didn’t escape your attention, but you couldn’t quite place its significance.

“Okay, I’m done,” you say calmly, though clearly irritated. “Do you have a problem?” you ask, looking at Illumi, bracing yourself for whatever might come next.

Illumi’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his expression unreadable. However, there was no sign of anger or aggression in his demeanor. Instead, he tilted his head and studied you with a curious, almost intrigued look.

“Problem?” he repeated in a low, measured voice. “Hardly. I simply find your... audacity rather intriguing. Most would have fled in terror at the sight of me, yet here you stand, unflinching.”

He leaned back in his stool, his posture relaxed, but his gaze never strayed from you. “Tell me, what drives someone like you to face danger so directly? Is it bravery, stupidity, or perhaps something else?”

The question lingered, heavy with a subtle menace. Illumi’s gaze pierced into you, as if trying to read something in you only you could answer. Hisoka observed the interaction, clearly fascinated, eager to see how you’d handle Illumi's probing.

You took a deep breath, trying to remain composed despite Illumi's unrelenting stare.

“It’s none of your business,” you respond firmly. “And... why should I be terrified of you?” you meet his gaze without flinching, even though your heart races slightly faster.

Illumi’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile at your defiance. “Brave words,” he murmured softly. “We’ll see how long they last.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your wrist in a fleeting, chilling touch. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of disgust and morbid fascination. “Perhaps I should demonstrate just how terrifying I can be,” he purred, his voice carrying a dark, unsettling promise.

Before you could react, Hisoka placed a hand lightly on Illumi's shoulder, his voice a smooth contrast to Illumi’s ominous tone. “Now, now, let’s not scare off our lovely guest just yet,” he chided, a playful edge in his words.

Turning to you, Hisoka flashed that signature, teasing grin. You quickly pull your arm away from Illumi’s touch, a sense of unease growing in your chest. Your heartbeat quickens, his aura undeniably dangerous, but there’s also something about him that draws you in. Still, the feeling of being unsettled and annoyed lingers.

“Thanks,” you say to Hisoka, giving him a brief but grateful look while keeping your attention fixed on Illumi. “But I think I’ll leave now.” You stand, meeting Illumi’s intense gaze one last time.

Hisoka rose to his feet with a sweeping bow. “A pleasure, Y/N. I do hope our paths cross again, though perhaps next time in less... tense circumstances.”

As you made your way to the door, Illumi remained seated, his gaze unwavering as he watched your every movement. “Until next time” he whispered, his voice carrying a dangerous promise.

Once you exited the bar, Hisoka whistled lowly. “Quite the spark between you two,” he said, his eyes flicking to Illumi. “I hope you can handle the flames to come.” Illumi remained silent, watching the door with a slight, unreadable tilt of his head. A faint, almost imperceptible flicker of something crossed his face—perhaps a mix of interest and calculation—but he didn’t comment. Hisoka smirked, sensing the night was far from over.

You stepped outside into the cool evening air, the wind brushing against your face. Your thoughts raced with everything that had happened—Illumi, Hisoka, the odd tension that hung in the air between the three of you. Something about them—about him—kept you intrigued, despite everything telling you to stay away.

The following days passed in a haze. Between training your Nen and trying to keep your mind focused, the encounter with Illumi and Hisoka lingered at the back of your thoughts. You went through your routines, honing your skills in the solitude of your own space, but a nagging thought kept surfacing: Could this strange connection with them somehow serve your ultimate goal?

Your instincts told you to stay cautious, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something much larger.

That night, just as you were about to slip into restless sleep, a knock at your door shattered the silence. Your heart raced, pulse quickening with anticipation. Hesitant, you approached the door, peeking through the peephole. A shadow loomed outside.

"Illumi?" you whisper, barely above a breath.The knocking continues, more insistent this time.

You hesitate, every instinct telling you to stay safe. Yet, curiosity overwhelms you. Slowly, you open the door just a crack.When you see Illumi standing there, you freeze for a moment, unsure what to do. Part of you wants to slam the door shut, but the other part... is intrigued.

"How do you know where I live?" you ask, your voice a little more uncertain than you'd like to admit. "What are you doing here?" You keep your gaze locked on him, your body on alert.

Illumi steps inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door softly behind him. In the dim light, his presence feels almost suffocating—like a predator watching its prey.

"You shouldn't be surprised," he murmurs smoothly, his voice like silk. "In our world, secrets aren't hard to uncover. Especially when someone as... captivating as you is involved."

He steps closer, his proximity sending a ripple of heat through your body. The danger in his every move is undeniable.

"I came to extend an invitation," he says, his voice low, mesmerizing. "Tomorrow night. A private gathering. It will be... an experience you won't forget."

You swallow, trying to hold your ground as his gaze locks onto yours. His presence, so close, sends an electric current running through your skin, leaving you with a chilling sense of unease—and, for some reason, something else.

"I don't think so," you respond, trying to keep your composure. "I don't trust you yet to accept an invitation from someone like you."

Illumi’s lips twitch into a small, calculating smile as he watches you. His gaze is cold, yet there’s something predatory in it. "That’s precisely why you should consider it," he says, his voice low and steady. He reaches forward, his fingers grazing the side of your face with eerie precision, his touch cold yet deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine.

"We’re not used to being dismissed," he continues, his voice unwavering and cold, yet there’s an underlying intensity. "Especially by someone with potential. Consider it a test—a way to prove you’re worth our attention. A challenge, if you will."

He leans in slightly, his breath cold against your ear. "If you prove yourself, the rewards may outweigh the risk," he says, his voice steady but carrying an unsettling weight. He pulls back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turns to leave. "Until tomorrow night. Don’t take too long."

You watch him leave, your heart still pounding in your chest, the intensity of his presence lingering in the air. You hate that your body responded the way it did. Part of you feels intimidated, but there's also an undeniable temptation, a pull you can't seem to shake.

The next day, you're pacing your apartment, anxiety gnawing at you. The offer, the invitation, the mystery—it's all too much to ignore. Despite your better judgment, you're drawn to the dangerous allure of Illumi and Hisoka. By the time the sun sets, you've made up your mind.

You arrive at the mansion on the outskirts of town. The eerie quiet of the place sends a chill down your spine, but your curiosity pushes you forward. Inside, you spot Illumi waiting for you, his piercing gaze immediately locking onto yours.

"Well, well," he drawls, his voice like velvet. "Look who decided to join us. I must say, I'm impressed."

You stand tall, despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, meeting his gaze with a steely resolve. "Impressed by what exactly?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "I must admit, I find your... choices somewhat intriguing." You don’t dare voice your true thoughts, though a part of you feels the pull of his presence.

Illumi chuckles softly, a sound that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. "Oh, my dear," he purrs, his eyes dark with quiet amusement as he circles around you, "it’s not just my... choices that draw you in, is it?" His voice is smooth, dangerous, a predator’s calm before the hunt. "It’s the power I carry, the silent threat, the allure of what lies beneath the surface."

He steps even closer, so close you can feel the heat of his presence. Stopping behind you, he leans in, his breath grazing your ear. "But don’t worry," he murmurs, his fingers cold as they gently cup your chin, turning your head to face him. "I won’t hold it against you. In fact, I find your boldness... rather intriguing."

With a deliberate motion, he guides your chin to face him fully. His cold fingers send a shiver through you, contrasting with the warmth of his breath against your skin. "Shall we proceed?" he asks, his voice low, commanding, almost hypnotic.

You try to hold your ground, though it’s hard not to react to his proximity, to the way he takes control of the space between you. "Let’s get this over with," you say, your voice betraying a hint of unease, though you strive to sound unaffected. "Lead the way."

Illumi's grip tightens slightly, a silent reminder not to challenge him further. "As you wish," he responds, releasing your chin with a fluid motion before stepping back.

He leads you down the mansion’s corridors, each step echoing through the vast, silent halls. When you reach a heavy door, guarded by silent figures, Illumi unlocks it with a key, revealing the eerie blue light spilling from within.

"Welcome to our little sanctuary," Illumi announces. "Inside awaits an experience beyond your wildest imagination."

You step inside hesitantly, immediately feeling the weight of the atmosphere. The air is thick, pulsing with an almost tangible energy, and the blue light casts an ethereal glow over everything.

"What is this place?" you ask, your voice tight with uncertainty. "And who else is here?" You glance around, sensing eyes on you from the shadows, though you can’t make anyone out.

Illumi senses your unease and speaks with a calm, almost possessive tone. "This is a sanctum for those who appreciate the finer things in life," he explains, guiding you deeper into the room. "The company is... eclectic. But don’t worry, they mean no harm... for now."

He looks at you, his gaze unreadable. "As for the others, let's just say you've caught the attention of some very... interesting individuals." He places a hand on the small of your back, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "We’ve been discussing the possibility of adding you to our little family."

Your breath catches. "Family?" you repeat, your voice wavering slightly. "I don’t even know what you do. I’m not sure I’m interested in joining your... family."

You glance around again, noticing how the shadows seem to shift, as if alive, watching you.

Illumi’s grip on your back tightens, his voice low and cold. "Oh, you’re already a part of it, whether you like it or not," he says, his tone calm yet firm. "Once you've crossed paths with us, there’s no turning back."

He leads you to a raised dais at the center of the room, motioning for you to sit. "Sit," he commands. "Now."

You obey, though the feeling in the room only grows heavier, more oppressive.

From the shadows, Hisoka emerges, a wicked grin on his face as he looks you over. "Well, well, look at our little bird perched so prettily," he says, his voice dripping with dark amusement. His gaze shifts to Illumi. "She looks like she belongs here, don't you think?"

You feel a shiver of dread as Hisoka's gaze locks onto you, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Part of you feels threatened, yet the way Illumi stands near you, his eyes fixed on Hisoka with a certain quiet possessiveness, makes you feel... somewhat protected.

Hisoka steps closer, his grin widening. "In a world full of mediocrity, we seek out the extraordinary," he says with a mocking tone. "And you, my dear, are a rare gem indeed."

Before you can respond, Illumi places a hand on Hisoka’s shoulder, signaling for him to stop. "Enough games," he says quietly, but with an edge to his voice. He turns back to you, his demeanor shifting to something more serious, yet still oddly intimate. "We’re not merely what people assume us to be. We are... curators of chaos, seekers of the sublime."

You listen to his words carefully, still trying to wrap your mind around everything. You're intrigued, but more than a little scared. There's so much you don't understand.

"So, what is it you want from me?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper. "What is your game? What are you, assassins?" You joke, but oh dear, their gaze tells you everything, and you freeze, realizing the truth of their job.

Illumi’s smile grew, a thin, calculating line that didn’t reach his eyes. "Assassins, mercenaries, enforcers—labels are irrelevant when you're dealing with the best of the best," he said, his voice a low purr. "We’re not concerned with ownership; we’re more interested in partnership."

Hisoka snorted, his grin widening. "Partnership implies equality, sweetheart, and you're nowhere near our level. But don’t worry, we’ll bring you up to speed."

Illumi placed a hand on your knee, his touch surprisingly gentle considering the deadly nature of their profession. "Think of it this way—you'll be part of an elite circle, operating on the fringes of society. No ordinary life for you anymore, my dear. Just the thrill of the unknown, the rush of adrenaline in the face of danger..."

Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize they are indeed assassins, and it troubles you more than you intended. You feel in danger here—there’s no way out. The mansion is full of people waiting for you to join their group, but... why?

As you overthink, staring at them intently, you suddenly realize something that terrifies you. You've heard of an assassin family—the Zoldycks—and you can't help but ask, a tremor running through you.

"Illumi... what's your full name?" You look at him, hoping for honesty, feeling tense and drawn to this dangerous man, almost seeking his comfort despite the fear bubbling inside you.

Illumi’s smile widened, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Ah, you've done your research," he purred, leaning in closer to you. "My full name is Illumi Zoldyck."

He watched your reaction intently, savoring the shock on your face. "Yes, I come from a long lineage of assassins," he continued, his voice low and hypnotic. I’m the shadow that moves unseen, the force that shapes outcomes without lifting a finger. I’m a master of control, an architect of fate—everything I touch bends to my will."

Hisoka chuckled darkly, interjecting, "And a total psycho, if you ask me." Illumi shot him a withering glare, but then focused back on you.

"But enough about us," Illumi said, his tone shifting to a more intimate cadence.

Your eyes widen at the revelation, a chill running down your spine. You knew about the Zoldycks, but never thought you would meet one, especially not one so close to you right now.

"A Zoldyck..." You mutter under your breath, trying to process the new information. You look at him, feeling a mix of fear and fascination as you’re drawn to him. "Why do you need me to be part of... your group?"

Illumi doesn't answer directly about your role in the organization, but he can’t help but feel drawn to you in a way his family wouldn't approve of. Though cold and calculating on the surface, there's something different when it comes to you. He won’t show this weakness, of course.

Illumi leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded you with an unreadable expression. " Let’s just say... you’ll fit nicely into the framework we’re building. There’s always a place for the right person."," he replied cryptically.

Hisoka, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist inserting himself into the conversation. "Yeah, she's got the spark, the fire in your belly. We could mold your into something truly exceptional."

Illumi’s gaze flicked to Hisoka, a warning glint in his eye before returning to you. "Of course, it’s not just about our needs. We believe you have potential—a latent talent waiting to be unleashed."

Hisoka paused, studying your reactions closely. "So, what do you say, my dear? Are you ready to embrace your destiny and become part of our little family?"

You swallow, feeling like a pawn in a game you don't fully understand. The allure of power, of being part of something bigger than yourself, is undeniable.

 "I... I’ll think about it," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, torn between fear and curiosity. You can't tear your eyes away from Illumi.

Hisoka, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist inserting himself into the conversation. "Oh, my, you're torn between fear and curiosity? How delicious! I can't wait to see what you’ll choose... or maybe I just want to watch you squirm."

Illumi’s gaze flicked to Hisoka, a warning glint flashing briefly in his eyes before returning to you. There was an undeniable intensity in the way he looked at you, like he was considering you, weighing you, perhaps even contemplating something more. "Of course, it’s not just about our needs. We believe you have potential—a latent talent waiting to be unleashed."

Illumi rose from his seat, towering over you, his eyes boring into yours. "I’ll give you time until tomorrow night."

Afterward, you head home, your mind consumed by everything that happened. As you think, your thoughts drift to Illumi.

As you departed, Hisoka called after you, his voice echoing through the mansion's grand halls. "Don’t take too long, darling! We’re eager to see what you'll become!"

Illumi, meanwhile, remained standing, his piercing gaze following you until you disappeared from view. Once alone, he allowed himself a fleeting moment of introspection, his thoughts drifting to the enigmatic woman he had encountered.

Despite his usual composure, there was an unfamiliar warmth simmering within him, a sensation he couldn’t quite define. Illumi pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the task at hand—molding you into the perfect asset for their organization.

The next evening, as planned, Illumi awaited your arrival, his demeanor as cool and collected as ever.

You arrive at the mansion, nervous and troubled by the decision you just made. As you step inside, you see Illumi standing there, looking calm and collected as always. Your heartbeat quickens.

Illumi greeted you with a nod, his eyes assessing your appearance and demeanor. "You've decided, then?" he asked matter-of-factly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Come, let's discuss the details of your new role."

Without awaiting a response, Illumi turned abruptly, his movements deliberate and fluid as he led you deeper into the mansion. His steps echoed in the silent corridors, and you couldn't help but feel the weight of his presence, like he was drawing you into a world you weren't sure you were ready for. The maze of corridors felt endless, each turn more isolating than the last.

"I assume you have some experience with combat, " Illumi said, his voice low, almost assessing. His gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, a subtle but deliberate scrutiny. "We'll start with a physical test. I want to see what you're capable of. "

As Illumi finished speaking, the door creaked open behind you, and Hisoka leaned in casually, his grin widening as he sized you up. 'Well, well,' he purred, 'Let’s see if our recruit lives up to the Zoldyck legacy. "

Following Illumi, your pulse quickens, a mix of nervousness and something else, something unfamiliar. The door to the training room swings open, and the cold gleam of weapons lining the walls hits you like a slap. This was no ordinary training facility—it was a shrine to death, and you were about to become a part of it.

I... yes, I have some combat experience,' you reply, trying to sound confident, but your voice betrays a hint of uncertainty. His gaze, slow and deliberate, traces over you—making you feel both exposed and oddly... seen. You force yourself to stand tall, though your heart races under the weight of his scrutiny.

You notice Hisoka observing you with keen interest, his grin widening as he watches your interaction with Illumi.

With a deep breath, you brace yourself, feeling Illumi’s eyes still on you, studying, calculating. His nod is almost imperceptible, yet his gaze remains sharp and intense, like a predator’s. 'Let’s start with something simple—agility, reflexes. Show me what you can do.' His words, though neutral, hang heavy in the air, a silent challenge."

He pointed to the obstacles ahead—hurdles, balance beams, pendulums swinging with mechanical precision. 'Your task is simple,' Illumi said, his voice calm but firm, 'Cross without making a mistake. Only the ground should feel your weight. Understood?'"

Before you could respond, Hisoka chimed in, "And remember, sweetie, speed and precision are key! Show us what you're made of!"

Illumi glanced at Hisoka, his expression a sharp mix of annoyance and something else—something colder. But he didn’t waste words. His gaze snapped back to you, every ounce of his attention now fixed on your every move. "On my count," he instructed, raising his hand. "Three... two... one..."

You nod, taking a moment to observe the obstacles before you. Your mind races with strategies and tactics, trying to decide the best approach.

As Illumi starts counting down, you spring into action, moving swiftly across the floor. You leap over the hurdles, balancing carefully on the narrow beams, and dodging the swinging pendulums with quick reflexes.

Halfway through, you feel a surge of adrenaline, pushing you to move even faster. With a final leap, you land safely on the ground, panting lightly.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you look up at Illumi and Hisoka waiting.

Illumi watched your performance with a critical eye, noting your speed, agility, and overall technique. When you finished, he gave a slight nod of approval. "Not bad. You managed to complete the course without major errors."

Hisoka, on the otherhand, was practically bouncing with excitement, clapping his hands togetyour gleefully. "Bravo, bravo! What a delightful display of athleticism! I must say, I'm thoroughly impressed."

Illumi raised an eyebrow at his friend's exuberance but turned his attention back to you. "Next, we'll assess your marksmanship skills. Follow me."

Without a word, Illumi turned, leading you to a shooting range tucked in a quiet corner of the room. The stark silence of the space was almost oppressive, broken only by the faint sound of your breath. 'Prove your worth,' he said coldly, 'Handguns, rifles, knives. Show me what you can do.

You follow Illumi to the shooting range, feeling a mix of confidence and trepidation. You’ve handled guns before, but not in a formal setting like this. Nodding, you select a handgun first. Illumi helps you check the weight and grip before you aim at the target, his touch on your hand making you unfocused for a second. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze the trigger, hitting the center of the bullseye. Next, you move on to the rifle, your aim steady and true as you fire off round after round, each bullet finding its mark except one. Finally, you pick up a knife, flipping it expertly between your fingers before demonstrating your throwing skills. The blade embeds itself in the wood of the target.

Illumi observed your performance with a calculating gaze, his expression unreadable. When you completed the tests, he stepped closer, inspecting the target results.

"Decent accuracy with the handgun and rifle," he remarked, "but room for improvement. That stray shot could’ve been fatal in a real-world scenario."

Hisoka, however, seemed entirely unbothered by the minor flaw. "Pfft, a single miss? Hardly a concern, darling! With practice, you’ll be hitting your marks every time."

Turning to you, Illumi continued, "Your knife work is satisfactory, though perhaps a bit flashy for our purposes. We prefer subtlety and efficiency in our assassins."

He paused, studying you intently. "Overall, you demonstrate potential, but you still lack the polish and discipline required for our organization."

You listen to Illumi's critique, a small part of you stung by the criticism, but you push that aside, focusing on his words of guidance instead.

"Okay." You nodded. His cold, enigmatic demeanor makes you so aware of your surroundings.

Illumi's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded curtly. "Very well. We'll continue your training tomorrow. For now, rest and prepare yourself mentally for the challenges ahead."

With that, he turned and wanting to leave, leaving you alone with Hisoka. The latter grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don’t worry about old Illi’s harsh words, sweetheart. He’s just trying to whip you into shape."

Hisoka sauntered closer, his presence overwhelming in its intensity. "I, on the otherhand, think you’re perfect just the way you are. Though I do hope you’ll indulge me in a few... extracurricular activities tonight."

He leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "I have a feeling you’d look stunning drenched in blood."

With that, Illumi shot Hisoka a glare, making him leave. Hisoka already knows that his friend Illumi is interested in you, but he doesn’t say it directly. Illumi doesn’t understand why he’s drawn to you—the cold, calculating, and emotionless man on the surface. He can’t help but make you squirm and tease you in his own way, but he mostly focuses on the mission ahead.

Illumi’s glare held a clear warning, and Hisoka knew better than to push furtyour. With a playful smirk, he bowed mockingly before turning on his heel and departing, leaving you alone once more with the enigmatic assassin leader.

Illumi returned his attention to you, his expression unreadable. "Tomorrow, we will focus on strategic thinking and adaptability. Be prepared to face unpredictable scenarios."

Without another word, he dismissed you, his actions as abrupt as they were efficient. As you exited the training room, you couldn't shake the sensation that Illumi's interest in you went beyond mere professionalism—but the cryptic nature of their interactions left you unsure how to interpret his intentions.

Later that night, Illumi entered your quarters without awaiting an invitation, his usual composed façade slipping for the briefest moment as he took in your appearance. The fleeting flash of desire in his eyes earlier seemed to intensify in this intimate setting, and despite his attempts to suppress it, he couldn’t ignore the pull.

"I trust you're resting adequately," he stated, his voice low and measured. "Tomorrow, we'll be engaging in close-quarters combat drills. Your agility serves you well, but you must learn to harness your strength more effectively."

As he spoke, Illumi’s gaze roamed over your form, lingering just a moment longer than necessary, his eyes tracing the curves of your body beneath your attire. The air between you thickened, heavy with an unspoken tension. It was a strange feeling, as though his usually tight control was slipping—something more primal simmered beneath the surface.

"Remember," his voice trailed off, his eyes still lingering on you as he tried to steady his breath. You can practically feel the heat radiating from his body as he stands closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space.

You swallow, trying to maintain composure under his intense gaze. His voice is cold and calculated, but you can’t ignore the thrill that runs through you at the sound of it. You nod, acknowledging his instructions about the upcoming training session.

The air between you both feels electric, charged with something neityour of you can fully control. As Illumi draws closer, his proximity seems to suffocate you, making it harder to breathe. Your senses heighten as he stands just a little too close, a small distance remaining between you—but not enough to ignore the intensity of his presence.

Illumi’s internal struggle was evident. His disciplined assassin’s mind was still sharp, but it was no match for the growing pull of his desires. He had been raised to control everything, to compartmentalize every part of himself—sexuality included. Yet, for some reason, you seemed to be different. This thought frustrated him; he couldn’t allow such feelings to complicate matters. But even as he thought this, his body betrayed him.

Illumi’s gaze darkened as his fingers tightened at his sides. He clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain control.

"Illumi...?" You look at him, hating yourself for the way your body seems to lean toward him. His presence is consuming, and despite your attempts to fight it, you find yourself wanting him closer.

Illumi’s resolve cracked under the weight of his desires, his stoic mask slipping away. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he closed the space between you, his hands reaching out to pull you flush against his hardened body. His touch was rough, possessive.

"You should not intrigue me so," he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. "It complicates things unnecessarily."

But despite his words, his hands remained on you, his fingers pressing possessively into your waist, his body hard against yours. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable, an animalistic hunger he could no longer suppress.

Your breath caught in your throat as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly against his muscular frame. The danger he embodies is palpable, but it only draws you closer, your body betraying your better judgment. You can feel the pulse of his heartbeat, the heat radiating from him, and yet, you can’t pull away.

His words, laced with frustration and desire, hung heavy in the air. You can sense the internal battle he’s fighting, the need to keep control clashing with something far more primal. You can practically feel the tension between you, the undeniable pull that neityour of you wants to acknowledge.

"I could say the same thing," you whisper, your voice barely audible, yet the words seem to carry a weight of their own.

Illumi’s grip tightened on you, his thumbs brushing along the sensitive skin of your lower back as he ground his body against yours. "Then perhaps we should indulge in these... complications," he purred, his voice dripping with dark promise.

With swift, practiced movements, he spun you around, pinning you against the wall. His lips crashed onto yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, claiming you with a ferocity that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of you as though he couldn’t get enough.

The intensity of his passion overwhelmed you, leaving you gasping for air. You clung to him, returning his kiss with equal desperation, lost in the whirlwind of sensations, pleasure, and danger that only he could provide.

You gasp as Illumi’s kiss deepens, his dominance taking over as he pulls you closer, his movements quick and forceful. The danger and excitement mix within you, the fear of what might happen next blending with a yearning you can’t deny.

His skilled tongue dances with yours, igniting a fire within you that spreads throughout your entire being, you moan softly into the kiss, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations. Ilumi's hands explore your body with a hunger that mirrors your own, leaving trails of tingling pleasure in their wake, you arch into his touch, craving more of his intoxicating caresses.

Illumi's lips left yours, trailing scorching kisses along your jawline and down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he nipped and sucked at the tender flesh.

One hand slid beneath your shirt, palming the soft mound of your breast as he continued his assault on your senses. His thumb flicked over your nipple, coaxing it to peak before pinching gently, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"We shouldn't rush this," Illumi breathed, his hot exhalation fanning across your damp skin. "But I fear my restraint is wearing thin." His fingers deftly unfastened your pants, sliding inside to stroke the slick heat of your core. "Tell me to stop, if you dare."

You barely register the sound of your pants being undone until his fingers slip inside, stroking your already drenched folds, making your knees buckle slightly, you can believe this the composed assassin Illumi you know, but you can’t help but feel aroused by him/

Illumi's fingers delved deeper, curling inside you to stroke your inner walls with a practiced ease that belied his typically reserved nature, his voice a low rumble filled with dark satisfaction. "Your body knows exactly what it craves, doesn't it?"

As he spoke, he added a second finger, stretching and filling your with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The wet sounds of their intimacy mingled with your ragged breathing, creating a lewd symphony that only served to fuel Illumi's desire. Though Illumi was never one for excessive words, but in this moment, he can’t help, his voice brough

"You should see yourself now," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours as he worked your tighter. "So compliant, so eager for more. It's almost...beautiful." With a sudden twist of his wrist, he found that secret spot deep within your, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You cry out, unable to contain the intense pleasure, your back arches. The way he is so talkative, speaks so confident, so hynoptic, sends a thrill through you, even as a part of you wonders how he can be so bold, so unashamed of his desires.

“Illumi…” you gasp as you grind further on you his hand.

"Yes?" Illumi purred, his fingers never ceasing their relentless pace as he sought to unravel you completely. "What is it you desire, little assassin? Speak, and I might grant your request."

He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Perhaps you’d prefer to break under my control, against the wall, with nothing but the sound of how you crumble to my mercy?" You gasp at his filthy words, your eyes widen of this part of him, almost possessive.

Illumi's free hand slid up your side, his palm sizzling against your overheated skin as he cupped your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "Or maybe you yearn for something more...depraved?" His thumb circled your nipple, tugging it into a tight peak that sent jolts of electricity straight to your clit.

Your breath hitches as Illumi’s words paint vivid images in your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last, his touch is addicitive, possesive, every caress igniting a fresh wave of desire within you, making you tremble.

Illumi's fingers picked up speed, plunging in and out of your quivering channel with a ruthless precision that bordered on violent, he groaned "I wonder how many times I could make you cum before you collapse from exhaustion."

He grind on your behind, bitting down on your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, as his other hand slipped beneath your shirt once more. His nails scraped across your ribs, leaving red welts in their wake, before he reached your breasts. Rough palms squeezed and kneaded the supple mounds, tweaking your nipples into stiff peaks that throbbed in time with the pounding of your heart.

"Illumi, please... "you manage to gasp out, your voice barely above a whimper.

"Yes, what?" Illumi demanded, his tone sharp with impatience. "Speak clear, Y/N"

His fingers curled inside your, rubbing that sweet spot with a maddening persistence. "Do you want me to fuck you harder? Deeper? Make you scream my name until your throat is raw?"

His fingers plunge deeper, faster, the brutal rhythm threatening to consume you whole. you can feel the coil of tension building within, making you close to your climax.

You start screaming, feeling how your orgasm wash over you and with a swift movement, not letting you relax, he spun you around making you gasp, pressing your back against the cold metal of the wall, the rough surface provides a stark contrast to the heated, intimate contact of his body pressed against yours as you gasp. One hand gripped your hip, holding your steady as the other fumbled with his belt, freeing his throbbing erection.

"I’ve decided I’m going to take what I want. Now," his tone sharp, positioning himself at your entrance.

His words are filthy, depraved, and they only serve to stoke the flames of your arousal higher, you can feel his hardness prodding at your entrance, a thick, pulsating promise of the pleasure to come.

“Yes, Illumi, fuck…please“ you admit breathlessly, your resolve crumbling under his touch and words.

With a feral snarl, Illumi surged forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. You cried out, your back arching as you felt him stretch your open, the sensation bordering on pain but suffused with overwhelming pleasure.

“So willing” Illumi hissed, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm. "This is what you needed, isn't it? I want to hear you admit it.”

“Yes…” You nodd desperately, feeling so intense and trembeling.

“Good. “" He leaned in close, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, his hot breath mingling with yours. "And I'm going to give it to you over and over again, until you're begging for mercy."

A strangled moan escapes your lips as Ilumi fills you completely, the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your entire being.

Each forceful thrust drives you closer to the edge, the friction of his hard length against your sensitive inner walls pushing you towards a precipice from which there's no return.

“yes.. Iillumi please, “you pant out, your voice a broken, pleading thing as you lose yourself in the relentless pace of his hips.

"Please what,Y/N?" Illumi taunted, his start gripping your throat slightly, moving your head towards him, as he drove into your with renewed vigor. "Tell me what you need, what filthy things you want me to do to you."

He captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue dominated yours. At the same time, his fingers found your clit, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud with merciless precision.

"Come," he commanded, breaking the kiss to nip at your jawline.  As if in response to his words, your orgasm crashed over your like a tidal wave, ripping your apart and rebuilding your anew in its aftermath. You screamed his name, your voice echoing off the walls as your pussy clamped down on his shaf.

Your mind goes blank as the intense waves of pleasure wash over you, Ilumi's relentless stimulation pushing you past the point of no return.

Your screams mingle with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, the obscene squelch of your arousal coating his cock as he continues to pound into you even as you come undone.

Ilumi's command hangs in the air, a dark challenge that only serves to heighten your awareness  of his own impending climax, you can feel him twitching inside you, his grip on your hips becoming almost painful as he struggles to hold back and you push into him more so you can help him.

With a guttural roar, Illumi buried himself to the hilt one final time, his cock pulsing as he unleashed a torrent of hot seed deep within your spasming depths. Each powerful spurt seemed to go on forever, painting your insides with his essence until you are filled to bursting.

As the aftershocks of your shared climax subsided, Illumi slowly withdrew, his softening member slipping free of your abused hole with a wet pop. A trail of cum dripped down your thigh, a visible testament to the thorough breeding you just received.

"Well, that was satisfying," Illumi murmured, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he admired his handiwork.

His sharp eyes studied you for a moment, his stance unwavering. "You’re in no condition to keep standing like this."

Before you could spleak, he moved swiftly, placing a firm hand at your back to guide you toward the bed. His touch, though not gentle, was steady and unyielding. "Lie down," he commanded, his voice a low murmur.

You feel utterly exhausted, your body spent, yet vulnerable—vulnerable in a way you never thought you would be with a Zoldyck. The fear lingers that it was just a fleeting, intimate moment for him, and you long for the comfort of aftercare. You're conflicted, unable to predict his next reaction, fully aware of his cold, enigmatic, and stoic nature.

You look at him, unable to control the vulnerability in your expression. You can’t help but wonder, despite his personality and history, if you’ve become important to him—though it doesn't show on the surface.

Illumi’s gaze softened, if only for a heartbeat, as he took in your vulnerable expression. It was the briefest of cracks in his otyourwise impenetrable facade—a fleeting flicker of something raw, something human beneath his usual cold exterior.

Without a word, his fingers brushed over the marks on your neck, a touch so delicate it almost felt alien—so different from the relentless passion they had just shared. The contact was soft, almost tentative, sending a shiver through you, who couldn’t help but feel the weight of this quiet intimacy.

But just as quickly as it had appeared, the tenderness faded, replaced once more by his usual aloofness. "Get dressed," he said sharply, his voice regaining its customary chill. With his usual precision, he began to gatyour his discarded clothes, a stoic figure once more. "We have matters to attend to."

Your heart skips a beat at the brief, unexpected softness in his eyes—a connection so fleeting, so fragile, that it leaves you aching for more. But the moment evaporates as swiftly as it came, and you’re left questioning if it was ever truly there or just a brief illusion, a crack in the facade that closed too soon.

Can… you stay a little longer? you ask, a quiet uncertainty in your voice, hesitant of how he’ll respond.

Illumi freezes for a moment at your request, his assassin’s discipline momentarily faltering. The connection between you is something unfamiliar, something he hasn’t had to process before. His mind is caught between his hardened, emotionally detached instincts and the surprising intensity of the bond you're offering.

Illumi paused, his hand hovering just above his shirt as he considered your words. The room grew heavy with the tension of his contemplation. Finally, without a word, he sat down on the bed, his posture rigid, but not dismissive. He was clearly weighing something—something beyond his control.

"You want me to stay," he said flatly, his voice cold but with a slight edge of curiosity. His eyes never left yours. "Is that because you enjoyed our...interlude? Or is it something else entirely?"

There was a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze, a brief crack in his impassive exterior that he quickly masked. It was evident that You’s unexpected emotional intimacy had caught him off guard, forcing him to confront feelings and desires that he had never fully acknowledged before.

Your heart races as you watch Illumi sit, his presence overwhelming, as always, but now more than ever, it pulls you in despite the tension between you. His words cut through you, making your emotions feel more tangled, and you realize just how much you’ve invested in this moment—how much you’ve allowed yourself to feel.

"Yes... and no, " you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper, stepping closer, but still unsure.

You reach out, pausing, as if to test the waters, before carefully placing your hand on his knee. A quiet hope stirs within you—that this small touch, this tentative gesture, might offer the reassurance both of you are craving.

Illumi’s muscles stiffen at your touch, a sharp breath escaping his lips as your fingers make contact. For a long moment, he doesn’t move, just staring at where your hand rests on his knee, as though trying to process the strange new feelings this simple connection stirs within him.

Slowly, cautiously, he places his hand over yours. His touch is deliberate, firm, and warm, but there’s a hesitation in it—a carefulness that reflects how much he’s struggling with the emotions that you’ve brought to the surface. "I see," he says quietly, his voice low, but there’s a shift in it. "In that case, I suppose I can spare a few more minutes."

Illumi stands, his hand hovering briefly before he reaches for you. When he pulls you into his arms, the gesture is stiff, almost as if he’s testing how to navigate this unfamiliar territory. His arms wrap around you, but the embrace feels tentative, as though he’s still unsure of what to do with the warmth he’s suddenly feeling.

In the stillness of that moment, Illumi’s heart races in his chest, the thundering beat a stark contrast to the icy calm he’s always projected, betraying the chaos he’s desperately trying to suppress.

As Illumi pulls you into his arms, a sense of calm washes over you. His warmth is solid and grounding, a stark contrast to the heat and chaos of your previous encounter. You rest your head against his shoulder, savoring the closeness—the simple, quiet connection that feels like it might be more than just physical.

Though your emotions swirl within you, you keep them in check, not wanting to overwhelm him. Instead, you focus on the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soothing sound of his heartbeat that seems to anchor you both in this rare moment of peace.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your own heart.

Illumi’s arms tightened around you, holding you tight. The soft pressure of his body against yours was a sensation he hadn’t known before, and it both unsettled and captivated him.

"For what, exactly?" Illumi asks, his voice cool, but with a subtle hint of curiosity. "I'm not used to such gestures. Explain to me, why do you feel the need for this?"

But even as he spoke, Illumi didn’t pull away. Instead, his body stiffened for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing your temple in a brief, but telling gesture. It was a small act, a flicker of something he rarely allowed himself to show—soft, but unmistakably affectionate. It wasn’t much, but in that fleeting touch, something subtly shifted between them, a crack in the ice that had always surrounded him.

The press of his lips against your temple sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. The tenderness of the gesture, despite his usual stoicism, made you ache for more. You leaned into him, feeling a warmth spread through you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to savor the intimacy that had quietly bloomed between you, fragile but undeniably real.

"For being here," you reply softly, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "For trying, even if it’s not something you're used to."

"Don’t get used to this," he murmurs, his tone strangely quiet, almost as if he's speaking to himself, not wanting to admit the slight shift inside him.

Illumi’s grip on you relaxed just slightly, his thumb stroking gentle circles on your back. Your words, simple as they were, had touched something within him. "Trying," he muttered, his brow furrowing slightly. "Perhaps that's an understatement for what we’ve done. But with you… it feels different. Necessary, almost."

He trailed off, his words unspoken, but the emotion behind them clear. Illumi was used to being distant, to keeping his feelings locked away. But with you, that wall had started to crumble—piece by piece, allowing something deeper to emerge.

Your heart swells at Illumi’s honesty, his words a raw admission that makes you feel even more connected to him. You press yourself closer, wanting to bridge the emotional gap between you, to share in the understanding that seems to be growing between you both.

"I feel the same, Illumi," you whisper, your voice sincere and filled with unspoken understanding.

Illumi's breath caught in his throat at your words. The sincerity in your voice reverberated through him, stirring something deep he wasn't prepared for. For years, he'd hardened himself against the idea of emotional connections—intimacy had always been something distant, too complicated to allow. But with you, the tension was palpable, like something he couldn’t push away, something he wasn’t sure how to control.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was gentle, but with an intensity that spoke volumes. It was a stark contrast to the fierceness of their earlier encounter, but somehow, it felt more consuming—this kiss was softer, but it lingered with a weight he couldn’t ignore. It felt different, like a shift, like something he couldn't quite put into words.

He’s tense. He keeps alternating between lashing out at Xcution members and lapsing into bouts of silence, his back hunched and chin resting on steepled fingers. Honestly, it’s insufferable for everyone around him. The fear of this commitment ending badly, of you fleeing down the aisle, and the fear of hating domestic life—of hating the unfamiliarity of children and stability and homecooked meals--gnaw at him. Kugo finds himself wanting to call everything off, if only to assert some measure of control over the day and his feelings.

Yearning for reassurance, he’s insists on seeing you. Jackie and Riruka lay down a valiant effort, but his entire entourage of groomsmen throw the balance in Kugo’s favor. So he gets his way.

”Like always,” Riruka says. “Such a spoiled brat,” Jackie responds.

Kugo is aloof at first. Your steadfast verbal and then bodily insistence that he not be in the same room as you before the wedding, especially with your dress bag unzipped and visible from the open closet changes that. His shrug and crude excuse of ‘thought we could practice our wedding kiss’ only annoys you.

But then his smarmy little smirk drops and he gives a sigh that seems to soften his body. His shoulders fall and the ticking muscle of his jaw disappears as he falls forward into your arms, his face pressing into the column of your neck.

Kugo is rarely an open book. You know him better than anyone, but honestly that’s like saying you won a race when you were the only one running. You hug him back and he unwinds enough to say, “you really wanna marry me? Forever with me and all the jerks in Xcution?”

After your reassurances, he shutters his fears again, smiles genuinely, and kisses you deeply until you push him away. When he leaves, one hand slicking back his gelled hair and the other stuffed in his suit pocket, Jackie and Riruka barge into the room.

“Did he seriously do ALL THAT just to practice a fucking kiss,” Riruka shrieks. You open your mouth to say no. And then your eyes narrow. Because he did do that, after all. “I’m marrying a scumbag,” you say. Jackie snorts, “It took you the day of to realize?”

Compared to before, Kugo is a veritable delight to deal with after his visit with you. He drinks scotch and brags about his honey moon destination over games of darts. He’s still a sore winner and lousy sport. He still lapses into broody silence over his alcohol and cheats if someone gets the upper hand. But, for Kugo, it’s pretty much his best behavior.

The entire wait to see you walk down the aisle and for the duration of the vows, he’s back to tense muscles and dire thoughts. Seeing you glide toward him coaxes a genuine and soft smile. But he wipes it the moment he realizes what he’s doing; goes back to smirking. Kugo keeps tight hold of your hands the entire ceremony, though.

It’s only when you’ve said ‘I do’ and are swept in his arms for a unnecessarily long kiss that he relaxes again. He seems giddy at that point, honestly. It’s so uncharacteristic that it steals your breath as he gathers you in his arms and struts down the aisle with a smirk (okay, so not totally out of character).

The after party is absolute chaos, despite everyone trying to keep it classy affair. Held in a sturdy concrete and brick building downtown—a modern, high-end take on a saloon really—it starts calm. But, then the members of Xcution get in their egregious amount of shots in before most of the guests arrive. And..then the guests arrive. The Karakura gang and their families, your family, and some arrancar; because nothing says ‘fuck you’ like inviting the enemy of your enemy.

You don’t know the full scope of what occured, because Kugo insisted on leaving early to rest before the honeymoon flight in the morning, but you saw enough loud, blurry footage from snapchat and frantic texts from Orihime to know you’ll be sending apologies instead of thank you cards to your family. Some blue haired man destroyed two tables trying to get to Kurosaki.

Riruka shrunk some of your family members attempting to contain them. Jackie got her arm sliced when she stumbled into Uryu’s arrow that was headed toward Grimmjow before he got shrunk by Riruka and Yukio forced Uryu and Chad to be Mario and Luigi in his game sphere until Uryu apologized and they both said ‘it’s a me mario’ and ‘Luiiiiigiii’ respectively. Kugo turned off your phone and insisted it stay that way until your honey moon’s over in the middle of all the notification assaulting your sanity in hopes that you’d stop freaking out. It helped, honestly. You have your zen until you land back home. Cherish it.

Honey Moon:

He picked somewhere tropical. The idea of massaging sun screen into your skin? The image of you walking everywhere in booty shorts? The temptation of jumping you on a private beach in the evening or a quiet boardwalk in the morning? He simply had to. There was also a sizable discount on the destination he picked.

Sure, he’s always got an air of nonchalance that only a devil may care flavor of man can have, but on your honey moon, he’s tender…for him. The first day and night are completely spent in bed. And his fingers smooth over your ring constantly—while you’re making love, when you’re eating over priced room service fare in bed, and the still moments before he falls asleep. Kugo kisses your ring too.

When you get the idea to joke, ‘kiss the ring, bitch’, you knew he would pout, but you weren’t quite prepared for being laid out on the bed and tortured with the skilled fingers of his left hand. The solid wedding band rubbing against your spongey gspot stroking you to completion as he smirked, “no YOU kiss it.”

The remainder of the week is spent doing activities and eating meals that seem spontaneous but have been meticulously planned out. If there’s something you’re hesitant to do, he extra invested in easing your nerves since he’s already paid for it.

”I don’t WANT to swim with sharks!” “Come oooon. The only thing in the water that’s gonna bite you is me.”

Your closet at the hotel is stuffed with strappy dresses, cute swimsuits, and tacky shirts that proclaim you’re married you’ve never seen before. Kugo refuses to answer for the shirts and insists that his just never made it in his luggage and isn’t that a shame. He gets a huge amount of satisfaction of telling people you’re his wife. He could carry a neon sign pointing to you that says ‘THIS IS MY WIFE’ and it might be more subtle. He won’t stop even if you point it out.

“What? You’re my wife.” “Oh my—fine. It’s whatever.” “Hey! Hold the fucking elevator for me and my wife.” “I’M—”

Obviously, he’s out to show you off. You both make for a pretty fucking package and he’s well aware of that. If he wasn’t so concerned about how he came off to other people he’d be yelling “LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE”. But he has a sense of shame. And would never just SAY something so vulnerable, especially in front of strangers. But he’s thinking it.

His proclivity for making out in public is also tremendous. When he points out how many people have their eyes on you it’s with a self-satisfied air and a smirk made of fucking daggers. Most of your outings and meals end with Kugo getting you worked up and leading you somewhere to finish you off.