name: Jericho ✈︎
pronouns: she/her
age/birthday: oct 4, 2007
MBTI: chaotic neutral (ENTP)
current fixation: Osmosis Jones❤︎
❥・I’m someone who spends a lot of time in my own head, thinking about things, making playlists, and getting attached to stories and characters more than I probably should. I like quiet moments, late-night scrolling, and anything that feels a little cozy or nostalgic. I’m usually just observing, overthinking, or disappearing into whatever I’m interested in at the moment.𑣲
❥・warning: may contain overthinking, sudden hyperfixations, and emotionally attaching myself to fictional characters like it’s a full-time job.
MY INTERESTS & FANDOMS
Obey Me!
Black Butler⋆☕︎ ˖
Disney Twisted Wonderland: [Octavinelle°𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆]
☺︎ BOUNDARIES & RULES
DMs/Asks: [Open]
Content Warning: [This blog is NSFW / 18+ only / Posts heavy spoilers]
Do Not Interact (DNI): [Any accounts not specified over the age over 18+ will be blocked.]
Tagging: [e.g., I tag triggers as #tw [word].]
Send me a request or a message!
──────────────────────
𑣲⋆｡˚THE LIBRARY˚⟡˖ ࣪
· ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ·
Twisted Wonderland
✦ Echoes in the Alps — Book ✦
Jade Leech x F!Reader | Mystery / Fake Marriage / Thriller
❥・Part I — Introduction
❥・ Part II — [title]
❥・ Part III — [title]
Pairing: Jade Leech x F!Reader
Genre: Mystery, Slow Burn, Fake Marriage, Thriller
Warnings: murder, blood, suspense, manipulation, implied violence, & a bunch of kinky stuff💋ྀིྀི
Word Count: ~1.2K
Part: I
“To the rest of the world, Jade Leech was your husband.
Only the two of you knew the ring on your finger was part of the lie.”
──────────๑♡๑──────────
Snow fell in thick, endless curtains beyond the train windows, blurring the world into shades of silver and white. The Alps stretched across the horizon like sleeping giants beneath the winter sky, their peaks hidden behind clouds heavy with another incoming storm. Every few minutes, the locomotive groaned against the frozen rails, coughing smoke into the evening air as though the mountain itself disapproved of modern travel. Which, honestly, it probably did.
Inside the first-class carriage, warmth clung faintly to polished mahogany walls and brass fixtures dulled by years of use. Passengers murmured quietly among themselves beneath the dim amber glow of hanging lamps. Ladies in wool coats and fitted skirts sat with gloved hands folded neatly in their laps, pearls resting delicately against their throats. Gentlemen wore pressed trousers, long overcoats, and brimmed hats tilted low against tired eyes. Newspapers rustled softly alongside the occasional clink of porcelain teacups. Cigarette smoke drifted lazily through the air despite several signs politely requesting otherwise, because people in the early twentieth century treated lung damage like a personality trait.
Seated near the frost-covered window was you.
The train gave another shudder as it pushed deeper into the Alps, metal wheels screaming softly against ice-bitten tracks. Outside, the world had fully surrendered to white now—no horizon, no distinction between sky and ground, just endless snowfall swallowing everything that tried to exist too clearly.
Inside the carriage, life continued pretending it wasn’t currently being transported into a very obvious setup for disaster.
You adjusted your notebook again, mostly out of habit, and mostly because it gave you something to do with your hands besides acknowledge the fact that you were, once again, on assignment that could very easily turn into a headline ending in tragedy. “Journalist,” your editor had called you. “Troublemagnet,” your coworkers had corrected. Both were technically accurate.
And of course, seated across from you, was your… situation.
Your beloved husband.
Jade Leech.
The words sat in your mind with the same enthusiasm as a tax form. To everyone else on this train, he was exactly that—your spouse. A respectable, quietly attentive man accompanying you on what was politely assumed to be a romantic winter journey through the mountains. Nobody questioned it. Nobody needed to. Society preferred simple answers over correct ones. The truth was always more complicated.
He sat across from you with effortless composure, one leg crossed neatly over the other as he turned another page in his book. Dark gloves covered his hands despite the warmth inside the carriage. His attire was immaculate; a charcoal-colored suit tailored perfectly beneath a long black coat lined with velvet trim. A silver watch chain caught faint light whenever the carriage lamps shifted. Even seated, he carried himself with the kind of poised elegance that suggested expensive rooms, quiet conversations, and problems that resolved themselves before they became visible. Or crime scenes. Unfortunately for your peace of mind, he excelled at both.
Jade Leech was not here because of romance, legality, or anything particularly human.
He was here because of you. More specifically, because of your job.
A journalist traveling alone into isolated Alpine regions was, apparently, an excellent way to end up missing, silenced, or reduced to a past-tense article someone else would file. Your editor had made that very clear while sliding a file across the desk, concern disguised as professionalism.
Then Jade had appeared. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just… there.
A “consultant,” he’d called himself. Someone with connections, information access, and the kind of timing that made coincidence feel deliberate. He never explained much unless it benefited him to do so. What he did explain—after watching you refuse three separate protection details with the confidence of someone who treated personal safety as optional—was that you were predictable. Not in a rude way. In a “you will absolutely walk into danger if left alone” way.
Charming.
The fake marriage had been his idea. Delivered with the same calm tone he used for everything, like he was suggesting you carry an umbrella. “Social structures are useful,” he’d said. “People stop asking questions when they believe they already understand the answer.” And apparently, nothing stopped questions faster than a husband who stood too close, spoke too little, and looked like he had memorized your existence for sport.
So here you were. A journalist with a camera, a notebook, and a fabricated marital status carefully stitched together for survival.
Which brought you back to the present.
You exhaled slowly and glanced up at him. “Right,” you said flatly. “And of course, my beloved husband Jade.”
There it was.
Instantly, the tone shifted.
Because until now, he had simply been across from you—a quiet presence, reading as if the world outside the train didn’t exist. But the moment the title left your mouth, something subtle changed in the air. Not affection. Not embarrassment. Something closer to attention being acknowledged.
Jade lowered his book slightly, pale eyes lifting to meet yours with polite curiosity. “Yes?” he replied, as though the word had always belonged to him and you were simply late in using it correctly.
You gestured vaguely at him. “You’re really committed to this whole ‘married man’ act.”
“I find consistency reassuring,” he said.
“That’s one word for it.”
His gaze lingered on you a moment too long—measured, observant, like he was reading a paragraph you hadn’t written yet. Then, lightly: “You’re doing well with it as well. Most people hesitate before introducing me that way.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I’m aware.”
That should have been unsettling.
It was.
The train rattled again, and somewhere outside, the first outline of distant mountainside architecture began to appear through the snowfall—stone, timber, and warm light bleeding into the storm like something trying not to be seen.
Jade followed your gaze. “The hotel,” he said quietly.
Not a question. A conclusion.
You nodded once. “Ashenridge.” A place old enough to feel like it remembered things it shouldn’t. A place your article was supposed to turn into something publishable instead of a warning sign.
Jade closed his book fully, resting it against his knee. “Then our role becomes clearer,” he said.
You raised a brow. “Our role?”
“Yes.” A pause. “Husband and wife arriving together. Observing quietly. Asking the right questions in the right order, while avoiding unnecessary attention.”
“That last part feels directed at me.”
“It often is.”
A faint curve touched his mouth—too restrained to be called a smile, too precise to be accidental.
The train slowed, wheels groaning as the station platform emerged through the storm—dim lanterns, bundled figures, luggage carts moving like shadows in the snow.
Somewhere beyond that, the hotel waited.
And somewhere beside you, pretending to be your spouse for reasons that were entirely logical and still somehow questionable, Jade Leech adjusted his gloves with quiet precision. Like this was routine. Like it would remain simple. Like nothing about this arrangement could possibly shift.
The doors hissed open. Cold air rushed in.
And Jade, ever polite, stepped slightly closer to your side—just enough for anyone watching to assume he was exactly what the world had already decided he was.
i can imagine reader purposefully cuddling with a large stuffed animal because jade is being a bastard asshole refusing to snuggle you in favor of space.
fine. cool.
you understood, you get it you do.
jade’s just like that sometimes…
so he should be fine with sharing a bed with sharkie right!
jade’s eyebrows furrow and head tilts to the said, parroting what you said as you excitedly jump off the bed. matching silk pj set, courteous of jade, rubbed against itself you as you made your way off the bed and yo your bookbag.
floyd’s curious now as he rolls on his side and haphazardly drops his phone onto his bed.
you find what you’re looking for after removing a few belongings…. and y/n, he’s gonna be honest, how the fuck did you fit that in there??
the shark is a fat, fluffy great white shark the size of your upper body.
floyd rolls back in hysterics, looking at you then his frozen twin as you skip your way over. falling onto the bed with a giggle, you land and bounce on the shark until it rolls you onto your side.
you squeeeeeze what would be considered the shark’s neck as you feel pairs of eyes watching you intently. you squeeze in intervals, breath and body relaxing with each tensing of your muscles.
it’s only when jade sees your body limp a few seconds later does he realize you’re asleep.
“ha! looks like your future mrs. would rather squeeze a shark then sleep with you” floyd teases, screaming when jade launches a pillow mock 5 at him in retaliation. 
jade looks back at you, ignoring his twins whining and the pillow that smashes into the back of his head.
he stares like this for a good ten minutes, unmoving despite floyd publicly stating for the record he’s creeping even him out. jade ignored this as his wrist and elbow cracks with disuse. his hand slowly reaches for the shark with concentrated look.
once he had the shark’s nose in his grip he expertly yanks it out of your tight embrace and switches it with himself.
“threes a crowd, dont you think” he looks over your sleeping head, tucking it into his chest as he heard a soft thud in the other side of the room. floyd complains but eventually packs his things and calls azul, most likely going to another guest room so jade could have more… privacy, with his courting partner.
he untangles himself from you momentarily and rushes to the plushie. with the skill of a soccer player he manages to wedge it between the door that floyd was in the middle of closing. sharkie can only stare in horror as jade’s face was covered from the darkness of night.
he was sprinting towards the sharkie before punting it out the door and down the hallway. the stuffed animals thumps against the walls like a ping pong ball. he stares into its beady eyes the moment it stops ricocheting off the lilac walls and comes to a sad roll.
he closes the door with a victorious smile.
“jade leech.”
his eyes widen and shoulders hunch as he spins to see you sitting up in bed, arms crossed. he couldn’t see your face as the water’s netty light didn’t reach that far up and instead illuminated the carpet.
“where’s sharkie.”
“ in a better place” he says earnestly, hand across his heart. because he’s right. he is in a better place, the hallway, where no deranged eel is mapping out how many stitches he has.
“you better bring him back or i’ll withhold sex from you for a month. a month. “
his smile falters… so no kitty time? 😞
“she’ll miss me” jade wipes a tear as you throw a pillow at him.
“2 months and i won’t help you during your season!” you hissed, flopping back into bed with your arms crossed. jade pictures steam blowing out in a steady, continuous flow from your ears and nose.
“it was good while it lasted.” he sighs, fighting a smile at the annoyed whined at his name.
“i won’t cuddle you then.” you’re pouting now. upping the punishment has jade’s smiling slightly faltering… he could live with that as you’ll get tired of chastity and pruriency eventually.
jade climbs back into bed ready to snuggle when you jerk away, feet kicking at the covers as you shoot up from bed.
dropping to under the bed jade pens over as he watches you stretch and feel around. he’s able to catch a glimpse of your distressed look as you scurry around the room in search of your shark plushie.
after snooping around, you’re facing the door angrily when he you break the pregnant silence. “jade, if he’s in the hallway im not giving you kisses for 2 whole months”
jade’s body moves instinctively as he shoots up in bed. eyes blinking owlishly as you open the door.
wait, were you actually mad at him? for booting out the competition??
you peek around the hallway bobbing your head to try seeing through the flashbomb of light. after a few minutes you close the door sadly, your head thumps against the wood as you let out a shuddery breath.
jade stand immeditaly and slams open the door.
the shark is gone.
he bites back his toothy grin. you’re his again. all his.
…so why were you crying, “it’s a stuffed animal, you have me to cuddle and dote on instead. not some inanimate object incapable of reciprocating affectionate. lets go to bed and look for it in the morning.” jade’s steady hand finds your shoulder, attempting to guide you back to bed when you flinch out of his touch.
body contorting like you’d just been touched by a cough, you bend down towards the door to your bad, gather your things and jacket as its colder outside this time of year and sniffle out “im gonna go back to ramshackle… back to grim tonight” you dont look at him when you slip through the door.
…”is my relationship dependent on a stuffed shark?”
yes jade. yes it is.
you ignore jade for an entire week after sharkie goes missiong. floyd sends his deepest condeolences and gives you a free meal at the lounge to ‘soothe your heartache,’ you ignore jade the best you can throughout your meal.
but jade is a D1 problem starter and annoys people for a living.
he comes to you, once, when you drop your fork and knife. jade the ever observant waiter and simp is quick to notice and bring you another set. yet… the moment he crossed the invisible line you placed, your head shot up like an alarm was trigged and with a scowl you picked up your plate and walked out the lounge. azul is furious that you stole a plate, running after you like he was on the Jerry Springer show.
jade is surprised. hurt, but he’d never admit it. you’d go to such lengths to avoid him?
he comes back after an hour and redirects his anger to jade. “look, what you do in your relationship isn’t any of my business- just give her the blasted shark back”
jade’s had enough of this childishness as it’s starting to bleed into his work life. his social life was drastically altered now that you saw him as the plague- and jade was sick of it.
he’s about to barge into ramshackle when he hears your crying through the rotting oak door. he peaks through the tiny door window to see a mountain of blankets and pillows.
a frown is on his face when he sees you, sobbing your eyes out into a blanket.
“he- he’s so mean” you hiccup “ he won’t cuddle me to sleep so i- i brought sharkie to cuddle right? but then he killed him and destroyed his body” your haggard breathing has you falling back into a pillow as you nuzzle it.
a whine leaves you as you throw it across the living room.
“sh sharkie was the only thing i brought with me from home and and he’s gone- im gonna break up with him if he doesn’t find him at the end of the week!”
jade’s blood freezes when he hears voices of approval and comfort. telling you that ‘they didn’t like jade anyways’ and ‘you could do so much better’
.. they’re not wrong… dating jade was… a trial. but, he had thought your friends finally came around to your relationship, that they approved of him being the one to make your heart pulse and bleed. but it appears that was just wishful thinking.
jade himself doesn’t really know why you said yes to him. pausing the moment you said yes to a date to ask if you were sure. that you didn’t mind his cruel reputation and eccentric habits. you embraced them, yet he couldn’t embrace yours…
you had given him space when requested, and sought out an alternative source of affection and comfort because jade withheld it from you. he didn’’t expect you to pull out a damned shark, thinking you’d whine and crawl on him like usual until he’d give in with a sigh and secret smile.
letting you know he’s allowing you to cling like a barnacle to him.. the shark just accepted and soaked up your love like a sponge.
jade turns his heel with a sigh, he needs to fix this. immediately.
it isn’t until three days later, on friday do you text him with a ‘we need to talk.’ it was the only text sent by you in the entire week, jade being moved to ‘silenced’ has another string of barbs around his body.
but not to worry, he called in a favor.
there’s three confident knocks on ramshackle dorm. fanning your heated face you prepare yourself for the breakup.
you open the door-
“hi y/n! i missed you so much!”
you gasp “sharkie!”
you thrust yourself at the slightly discolored shark and trap him in a tight squeezing embrace as you take a long, deep inhale. the scent of laundry detergent and lingering dirt fills your nose as jade watches you visibly relax.
“don’t forget about me” jade’s hiding his face again as he talks in a silly voice. you look up at him ready to chew him out when you close your mouth. in his hand is a long, thick stuffed eel. its eyes closed with a smile itched with black thread. its teal green body had speckles of lighter blues running along it as you excitedly gasp.
jade wraps it around your neck and lands its smiling head on top of yours. your smile falters at his serious face.
“…i didn’t know how much the shark meant to you.. i apologize for the distress i’ve caused you as it wasn’t my intent”
you nod, listening to his apology.
“ i had no idea it was from your home…” your eyes widen, you never told jade that but just chalk up the sudden information leak as jade being jade. you side step him and motion for him to come inside.
he declines, “i have a shift at monstro in 10 minutes so i must be on my way.” he’s about to bend down for a kiss when he stops himself with a hand politely covering his mouth.
“dear me, almost forgot i have another 7 weeks to go with no kisses” he deflates “ill be on my way then”
just as expected you grab for his collar and yank him to your height. smashing your lips onto his, jade’s hands reflexively goes to your cheeks, smushing them slightly as he deepens the kiss.
“next time” jade pulls away, a smile on his thin lips. his thumb wipes your lower lip clean of spit before bringing his dirtied thumb to his own lips where he swiped his finger, your juices along his own. “don’t bring ‘sharkie,’ as eels are very territorial of their mates.”
In which Azul loses his mind over a grilled cheese.
Content stuff: short, one sided enemies to lovers, Azul being a loser, general cringe.
Posting Reqs like this for a bit until Tumblr lets us edit asks. I had a request for Enemies to Lovers with Azul, so I came up with this.
That goddamned Prefect was the bane of Azul's existence. For the past few weeks, he has been gripping his leg in absolute rage within his office as he stares at his weekly reports. Practically frothing at the mouth at the mere mention of you.
Recently, the little Ramshackle prefect has begun a new business venture. A simple food truck on campus selling only grilled cheeses for a singular madol. That's it. He found the idea a bit funny, he'll admit, but he was far from worried.
Surely after a month it would shut down, or at the very least get so few customers it wouldn't impact his business. I mean come on, how much money are you really making from selling grilled cheeses for one dollar? You must be taking a loss!
He was wrong. So so wrong.
Not only have you somehow been profiting from your little side project, but you have taken all of his customers. He is looking over his lounge, nowhere near as full as it usually is. He grits his teeth and heads back into the VIP room. The twins should be here any minute now.
On cue, the door creaks open, and in come those rowdy twins both with their usual smirks. Azul jerks up, staring up at Jade from his desk. His hand shook ever slightly as he gripped the feather in his hand.
“Well? Did you get it?” The mer asks, gaze steely. Floyd speaks for the both of them through mouthfuls of grilled cheese.
“Mmmhmm yeah, we got you a cheese, here you go. Mmmm.” Floyd took another bite of his as he tossed the wrapped-up grilled cheese onto the desk.
“Hey watch the merchandise– Are you eating their food?" Azul stared at both of them. Floyd stuffing his face with the one in his hand and Jade elegantly nibbling on his own. He was shocked, betrayed by his own staff. “You guys gave them more money— ugh. I would have expected this of Floyd but you too Jade?”
“The prefect saw me ordering and put some mushrooms into mine that pair well with the cheese. Free of charge as well. How thoughtful of them. I must commend their customer service.” Jade wore a shit-eating smirk on his face as he took another bite, making a show out of it. He seemed to relish in Azul's misery.
“Free of charge?” Azul was flabbergasted. Not only were their prices ridiculously low but they were adding things for free? They might as well be handing their money away at that point.
“Right? I say they should have charged Jade for all he's worth for putting those damn things on. Yuck…” Floyd wrinkled his nose as he side eyed Jade, who just continued to eat blissfully.
He needed to figure out just what was so good about the damn things. Gloved hands carefully lifted up the wrapped delicacy with such fragility as if it would break from a gust of wind. The wrapping was done well, nice and neat as he peeled it off to reveal what was inside.
Crisped and perfectly brown buttered white bread. It glistened in the light with its heavenly beauty. The cheese was ooey and gooey and so thick that it ran down the sides. So far the presentation was beautiful, but it was pretty damn difficult to fucked up a grilled cheese. He tried to hold back this drool from the smell alone.
Carefully, he took a bite and closed his eyes. His mouth was blasted with flavor. As he savored that magical bite, a gust of wind swept through the room, causing the curtains to dance dramatically. The cheesy aroma lingered, creating an ambiance fit for a culinary masterpiece. This grilled cheese has unlocked secrets of the universe with how much it expanded his mind. This mere sandwich has him on the brink of tears
Azul has to hold his expression. He's not gonna be impressed by some measly sandwich. He's better than that. Though he thought that maybe by tasting it he could be able to figure out what your secret ingredient was, it's clear that isn't the case… This is a simple grilled cheese. He would have to go undercover to discover your cooking secrets.
***
“Heyyy Prefect!” A wry voice hums near the truck, belonging to no other than Ruggie. He knocked on the side of the window and Yuu poked out their head.
Azul watched from the distance, narrowing his eyes as he hyper-focused on the conversation. He admits the front of the Ramshackle dorms was a great location. Close to the botanical garden, close to the main building, not as far as Octavinelle either, and had most of the foot traffic. It's why he had his eye on it for a second location.
“Well if it isn't my number one customer, what can I get ya, let me guess a grilled cheese?” Of course, Ruggie would be their number one customer, which makes sense given his financial state. Figures. Maybe if he introduced a dollar menu…
“You know what Ruggie, you're cool. For you, it's 50 cents. Two for one if you will.” Ruggie pauses for a moment before smiling again. “Awe really? Sweet, can't up a deal like that shyehehehe!” The hyena cackles and you get to work. The window for the truck is fully open, allowing Azul to see in.
You aren't even hiding your cooking technique?! You're just giving all your secrets away like that?! Ohh you foolish fool… This would be easier than he thought.
He must get closer, to see what sort of fuckery is at play here. However, walking up and just watching you cook work is suspicious. As much as he hates to fund this little project… sacrifices must be made… He will have to order a grilled cheese…
Ruggie slinks off, tail wagging happily as he munches on his food. This was the perfect opportunity to approach. He stood up even straighter and approached with determination hidden poorly behind his attempt at a straight face. His scowl dared to seep through but he managed to smooth it out into his sickenly sweet facade.
“Hello, dear prefect!” He watched Yuu perk up through the window as they wiped down their workspace. They glanced over at Azul, completely unaware of his evil plot. “Heya Zuzu what can I get ya?”
Zuzu? That's awfully bold… whatever eyes on the prize…
“I'd like one grilled cheese please if I may…” Hell yes. Smooth operator. He's so good at this.
“Mkay, coming right up.” Azul leans in closer as you get to work, memorizing everything you do… You just make a grilled cheese… Nothing special. It's just simple bread and cheese you cook in butter. How the hell? Was it the oven perhaps? Did you somehow know of his intentions and we're trying to conceal it?? Ugh, whatever maybe he can sucker you into another deal.
“... You know Prefect, if you just raised the price a bit you'd be bringing in more profits.”
You shrugged as you pressed down your creation with your spatula to make it sizzle more. “Yeah, I know how money works.” Azul paused and blinked.
“So why don't you do it?” You shrug again. “It's funny.” Azul was perplexed, bamboozled, perhaps even smeckledorfed perchance. You were doing this for fun?! Starting a business for fun. Not for profit which would be beneficial given your situation, but for fun.
“Fun? Really? But prefect– wouldn't you– shouldn't you consider raising the prices even slightly? I mean after all Crowley hasn't been paying you well and if anything—”
“I should shoot you for the mere suggestion of raising the grilled cheese prices. The price is firm. It's never going up even by a cent. Hell, I'm so offended I may lower it.” You pulled the cheese off the grill and started to pack it up, swaddling it with such delicacy and love reserved for newborns.
Azul's mouth hung open for a bit before closing it. “Are you serious? Prefect— Yuu at this point I'm not even mad about the competition I'm– hrk!”
“You need to relax a little Azul, for your own sake.” You shoved the grilled cheese out the window a bit more forcefully than you intended, making the unwrapped part hit Azul's glasses. The melty butter left grease marks on them, and through the blurriness, he could see your expression. His heart skipped a beat and sucked in a breath. Oh no.
Hello everybody! I'm back and for good! Thank you all so much for your support and comments.
This is a work done especially in celebration of Halloween. Unfortunately, it was supposed to be something small, but again I ended up getting carried away and had to separate it into two parts (maybe three, since the story is still developing). The story will also be posted on a03
It had been a week since you and your family had moved into a new house. It was large, but had a somewhat morbid appearance, probably due to the time it had been abandoned. Although her parents had renovated it to make the house more presentable, it wasn't exactly an inviting place from the outside. Well, just on the outside, since you really had to give credit for how fascinating she was on the inside.
For example, the attic was an interesting location when you first saw it; full of old and dusty boxes, representing that the previous owner of that place had simply abandoned it there without bothering to come back one day to pick it up. When you went to open the boxes together with your parents to organize that place, there were some interesting things inside like comic books, board games, old clothes and even some somewhat useless objects. Much of it would simply be donated, since you didn't have much interest in most of those things, apart from comics and books.
However, something tucked into the bottom of one of the boxes and carefully wrapped in a piece of black fabric aroused his curiosity. A red phone cordless. Just an old-fashioned device, which was only used for calls and which would probably never pique anyone's interest due to how useless it was compared to a digital cell phone. However, it was curious to see that even though it had been abandoned for years, the device has a appearance new, the blood red color of the device still being quite shiny. It was quite pretty, you had to admit.
When you showed the device to your parents, they both didn't show much interest, although they were surprised to see that it still worked, even after years and years of abandoned it inside. They said you could stay if you wanted, even though it wasn't really useful to you due to the fact that already had a cell phone. You analyzed the device and said that it could be useful if at some point your cell phone stopped working and there was some precision. This would probably never actually happen.
What harm would it do to have it, right?
[…]
You wake up at midnight with your red phone ringing. It was the first time it had rung since you obted gotten it three days ago, since you were the one who normally made the calls.
Trying as hard as possible to get out of bed, you walk over to the phone that was on your desk and answer it.
"Hello?" You ask hoarsely.
“Koebi-chan, I'm so close to you.” A male voice whispers on the other end of the line. It doesn't sound like the voice of anyone you know. “I’m finally going to see what you look like.”
You remain silent for a while, absorbing what that must mean, but quickly concluding that it must just be a wrong call.
“Sorry sir, I think you called…” You didn’t finish your sentence when the call simply fell
Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, you don't care enough about the mystery man, placing your phone back in its place and returning to bed.
[…]
Two months have passed since you and your parents moved into the new house, so you already know a little about your neighbor across the street.
Ace was his name.
He was the only person closest to his house, with no one else around. A handsome man who appeared to be around thirty years old, married to a woman whose name was Elisa and having a ten year old daughter named Alice.
The two of you got along relatively well due to the older's playful personality, which reminded you more of a teenager than an adult.
You always greeted him every time you saw him across the street, also smiling and waving at him whenever you saw him through your bedroom window, since through it you had a complete view of Ace's house.
His wife and daughter were also sociable people and you wich especially became attached to the child, loving to take care of her when Ace and his wife left the house to have some alone time as a couple.
Alice also seemed to like you a lot, almost always knocking on your door so you could play together. Sometimes you accepted and other times you refused because you needed to study for college, in the latter case always earning a sad pout from the little girl.
The red phone rings at eight o'clock at night. The only difference from the first time is that you are not sleeping, but taking notes sitting at your desk.
"Hello?" You answer without blinking and lift the phone to your ear.
“Crab?” The male voice on the other line asks.
"Who?" You respond, confusion written all over your face.
“Isn’t that Ace Trappola’s number?”
"No. You called his neighbor.”
The voice is silent for a moment.
“There are no other neighbors besides Crab.”
“By Crab, you mean Ace?” Even though you think that's exactly what it is, it wouldn't hurt to ask.
”The same person~” He drawls.
“I've been Ace's neighbor for about three months. I moved recently.” You calmly explained, tapping your pen on your notebook. You were new to the neighborhood, so this stranger must have bee confused.
“There’s no one else but my family and Crab’s family here.” The voice says in a frustrated or perhaps nervous tone, you can't quite place it.
“I think there was some mistake. What’s your address?” You ask confused, starting to consider it was a prank.
The male voice gives you the location and you let out a tired sigh, realizing that it really was a stupid joke.
“You just described my address.”
The voice on the other end of the line becomes silent once again, until it breaks into laughter.
“Hehehehe, good Grab. I don’t know what you used to change your voice, but it almost got me.”
He says one last time, before hanging up on your face.
[…]
The stranger's call had piqued his curiosity. Were there really no neighbors around? The next day you explained the situation to your mother, who agreed that it could be a prank, since no one really lived close to there anymore. It was a considerably isolated place and far from everything.
“What about the previous owner of the house?” You asked the older woman who had her back turned, washing the lunch dishes.
“The previous owners sold it to a real estate agent.” His mother stated. “The agent who sold me the house just said that after that some other people came to live here, but that after a few years they usually sold it.”
"Just that?" You were displeased, expecting something more impactful.
“I was more interested in how many rooms the house had than who had lived here before.” She laughed nasally.
You would gain no more useful information from your mother and decided that the next place you would explore would be the attic, where there were five more boxes left that had not been opened.
Maybe it was a fruitless search, maybe you were just wasting time, but the man you had talked to didn't seem like a total liar, like he really had conviction in what he was saying. He even knew Ace's first and last name and you doubted your neighbor was playing a prank with you — it would be quite old-fashioned for a man of that age.
You turn on the attic light and open the first box, spilling all the things inside on the dusty floor, finding nothing that would help you learn more about the house. The second box was simply full of old clothes that were too big for you. The third is where you find a kind of notebook, but when reading its contents you don't find anything truly interesting or that indicates the owner of it.
Clank
Turning another page, a piece of paper falls out and you pick it up from the floor, realizing it is an old photograph faded at the edges. Analyzing the image, it seemed to be a family, consisting of the mother, the father and two completely identical children. On the back of the photo was the date it was taken, along with a small statement that probably referenced the two boys in that photo.
Clank
02/22/2009
My beautiful treasures, ♡Floyd♡ and ♡Jade♡
Even with the information obtained, that didn't seem like enough, especially when you didn't even have their last name. You decide to continue exploring the rest of the boxes, but you don't have the same success as before.
Clank
Putting everything back in its place, you decide to keep the photo for research purposes, keeping it in your pants pocket. Darkness encompasses the room when you turn off the light.
Clank
Going down the attic stairs, that's when you notice a strange sound coming from it, resembling two objects hitting each other. You decide to go back to check what it could be, turning on the light again and finding nothing that could hint at the reason for the noise.
Clank
You feel something fall on your head and run your hand over it to remove any insects that may have gotten into your hair. However, it is not exactly “something” that falls, but rather crumbs that appeared to be wood. Crumbs that continued to fall on the ground around him and on his head.
Clank
You go to the other side of the attic that was free of that dust and look up, expecting to find some termites eating away at the ceiling. However, it was something much worse than mere termites.
Something that could not be seen or touched.
Invisible hands carve the ceiling letter by letter, slowly forming an entire sentence.
JADE IS AN IDIOT BITCH
[…]
That number does not exist.
That's what appeared on the red phone screen when you tried to call the same number that called you last night. Even though he had the number saved on his phone, every time he pressed the button to call back, it was always the same message.
Honestly, at this point in the tournament, you didn't doubt that the house or the phone were haunted, not after what you had seen in the attic. Of course, upon witnessing such a scene, you just hurriedly fled, locking yourself in your room and determined to never set foot up there again.
You were scared of what this could be. However, his curiosity still continued to speak louder than any other feeling. Furthermore, you couldn't even run away from that house, since there was nowhere else to go and your parents would never believe that story about a strange message having suddenly appeared in the attic. His only option at the moment was to stay and find out what the hell was going on.
Therefore, all you could do was wait until the mysterious boy called again.
[…]
The red phone rings at midnight and you hurriedly put down your notebook and pen to put your hands on it, answering it without thinking twice.
"Hello!?" You say in a mix of fear and euphoria.
“So close…” The voice on the other end sounded breathless, almost as euphoric as you were.
“Close to what?” You ask, still unable to recognize who the man on the other end of the line was, even though you knew it was the same voice who had called you the first time.
“Close… pouʇ… of …ʇɹnsʇ… Let’s go …ɥᴉɯ… Together” You can’t hear it properly, the horrible sound of static playing in the background. “You just… ɯnɹ… pǝɹǝɹ… stay on the phone”
The call drops and you look at the small phone screen, noticing strange glitches. You hit his side with the palm of your hand, trying to get him back to normal.
After a few seconds, the static stops.
[…]
At six o'clock the next day, the red phone rings.
However, unlike last time, you seem a little afraid to answer. Maybe that device was the reason for the start of his problems, that was almost certain. You had even seriously thought about setting that thing on fire, maybe then the bizarre things would stop. Still, a part of you refused to do that, thinking it might end up making the situation worse instead of better.
You decide to follow the unknown man's instructions, even though you didn't trust him. Maybe he was a ghost who had possessed that cell phone and was now haunting you, you were starting to come up with some insane theories.
"Hello?"
“Ah, it’s the same voice as before.” The guy on the other line says uninterested.
"Yes. But don’t hang up, please.” You say as politely as possible. “It’s not a prank and I’m not Ace.”
“I know it’s not.” He responds back. “I spoke to Crab yesterday and he was quite confused, saying that this wasn’t even his number anymore.”
"Great." You sighed in relief. “Look, it might be hard to believe, but the address you gave me is actually the same as the one I live at.” You looked out your bedroom window and saw Ace playing with his daughter in the backyard. “My house is literally opposite his.”
“Eehh, mine too.” The boy spoke from the other side, not seeming to fully believe you. “Or would it be ours?” He laughed.
“Could you tell me your name?” You ask, taking the photo you had collected from the attic out of your desk drawer.
“Floyd Leech. And you?"
You turn the verse and see that the name was the same, but you don't know how to describe which of the twins he would be in the photo. The date on which it was taken also arouses your curiosity and you again begin to think that this whole situation was perhaps a bad joke. Could it be that the former resident of that house, Floyd, was just playing a welcome prank on you?
“Hey, don’t ignore me!” The voice on the other end gets louder when you take a long time rambling.
“Sorry, I just got distracted by something.” You prefer not to talk about the photo at hand. “My name is Y/n.”
“Never heard of it.” His disinterested tone returns to the surface.
“Yes, I had never heard of you either until today” That wasn’t entirely true, as you had discovered the photo a few hours ago. “I know it sounds strange, but could you tell me today’s date?”
“What, are you that lost in time?” He laughed. “Seriously, what did you smoke?”
“I swear I’m quite sane.” You respond sharply, but return to a calmer tone of voice, not wanting him to hang up the phone again. “Tell me today’s date, please.”
“Asking me so affectionately like that, I can’t refuse.” He jokes, using a more sly tone. “Today is 04/20/2009”
You cough, choking on your own saliva.
“Exactly at six-fifteen in the afternoon?” You look at the clock on the wall in your room.
“You got it~”
The phrase that appeared in the attic appears in his head like a puzzle piece to be fitted into that mystery. You had thought about the possibility that it was a vengeful ghost writing that, but upon reflection, it was more like an angry brother writing something stupid about his other brother.
“Something appeared in the attic yesterday.” You revealed. “A message that said: Jade is a stupid bitch. Did you do it?”
There is a short silence on the other side.
“How do you know that, huh!?” The previously sly voice suddenly turns into something threatening and you briefly withdraw the phone from your ear. “You’ve been spying on me, bitch!” He spits and you swear that if he were in front of you, that guy would definitely move towards you.
"No! I’m not spying on anyone.” You state with conviction, using your other hand to search your digital cell phone for any information that occurred on the same date that Floyd informed you. “I know it's hard to believe, but it's possible that we are in the same house, in different years.” It doesn't take long for you to find news that matches the date. “At nine o’clock, a plane will crash north of Chica-…”
“You and Jade are making fun of me, aren’t you!?” The boy on the other side looked like he was going to explode with rage. “Tell him to go fuck himself!”
You no longer have a chance to explain yourself, when he hangs up on you again.
[…]
The next day, you look for Ace to talk about the house's previous residents. You knock on his door, but are answered by Alice.
“Come to play with me?” The little girl asks happily, jumping up and down in anticipation.
“Sorry, I just came here to talk to Ace about something.” You break the illusion of the little girl, who makes a sulky expression and goes back into the house, screaming for her father.
It doesn't take long for him to appear in front of you, closing the door behind him and walking with you to the curb.
“Mom said you’ve lived here for several years. Does that mean you got to know the first residents?” You asked bluntly.
"Yes. They were a reserved family, a little strange and even scary, I would say.” He let out a nasal laugh, as if remembering something amusing.
“I found this photo.” You take the photograph from your pants pocket, handing it to Ace who promptly takes it. “It’s them, isn’t it?”
“Ah, man, I barely remembered the faces.” He spoke in surprise, a little nostalgic. “But it’s them, yes.”
“On the back it says Jade and Floyd, but I don’t know who is who. They are identical.”
“Hehe, if you look closely, you will notice subtle differences in each one.” He comes to stand next to you and holds out the photo for you to observe the details. “See, this is Jade who is smiling without showing her teeth, with her hands together in front of her body and correct posture. He was always the most reserved and eloquent, sometimes he even seemed like a butler.” He laughed and you followed him, infected by the energetic laugh that Ace had. “This is Floyd…” The redhead’s tone seemed less enthusiastic and more morbid for a moment, but you thought it was just a bad impression, as he soon returned to his usual playful normality as he talked about the other brother. “Relaxed expression and hand behind the head. Man, he was a whirlwind, the total opposite of his brother.”
"I imagine." You nodded, remembering how he snapped yesterday afternoon. “But why did they move?”
“Well…” Ace handed you the photo. “A tragedy occurred with the family” He sighed heavily, seeming to not like that story. “One of the sons ended up dying.”
His breath came ragged from the shock.
“But… how?” You asked, disbelieved.
“A motorcycle accident.” Ace shrugged. “The mourning was very much for the Leech family, mainly because they were all very united.”
“That’s why they moved?”
“I think they wanted to start again, somewhere else.” He theorized. “Honestly, I would have done the same.”
“But which of the brothers ended up dying in this accident?” You asked, apprehensive about the answer.
No, you already knew the answer.
“Floyd Leech.”
[…]
The accident had occurred on 04/30/2009
Since the days of the past and present were the same, this meant that Floyd would end up dying in seven days.
Shortly after talking to Ace, you returned home and did some research on your laptop to find out more about what had happened. In addition to finding out the date, you had discovered that Floyd died at the scene of the accident, before the ambulance could even provide assistance. Bones broken and fractured, his body had been completely torn apart.
If you still had doubts that this could be a joke, that possibility simply evaporated without a trace. You didn't just seem to be messing with the supernatural, but also with the timeline. That, or the house was haunted by the spirit of young Floyd who never passed on to the afterlife. Well, you hoped it was the first theory, since the latter was pretty scary and there weren't any ghostbusters you could call.
Your only option at that moment was to wait for Floyd to call you again before that date. You wanted to try to save him from that horrible fate, even though you were doubtful about the time lapse it could bring. If you saved him, would you still be living in the same house? Would you end up forgetting everything that happened, including Ace and Alice?
You had watched countless time travel movies and, honestly, the possibilities were endless.
[…]
The red phone rings at four o'clock.
You were in the shower, but you interrupt to hurriedly grab the towel and wrap it over your wet body, leaving a trail of water as you leave the suite and head to your room. You rub your wet hand under the towel before picking it up, worried that you might end up damaging the phone through sheer lack of attention.
"Hello?"
“How did you know?” It was Floyd. You were aware he was asking about the plane crash.
“I saw it on the internet.” You replied simply. “I’m in the same house as you, but fifteen years ahead.”
“What else do you know about me?”
“Honestly, nothing.” You shake your head in denial, even though you know he couldn't see you. “But I know what will happen to you.”
“What do you mean by that?” He asks, looking annoyed.
“On the twenty-eighth of this month, you will have a motorcycle accident.” You respond impassively. “A truck runs over you and you die before they can even help.” Although it would be a little cruel to say something so scary unceremoniously, you didn't want to beat around the bush. Everything now simply depended on whether Floyd believed you or not. “I would never joke about something so serious.” You finally say.
"I believe." You mentally thank him for the vote of confidence. “But why are you living in my house?”
“My mother recently bought this house from a real estate agent. The first family to live here sold it fifteen years ago, which coincides with the time you had the accident.”
“Do you know what happened to them?” From the tone of his voice, Floyd sounded worried.
“I found out about your brother through a photo I found in the attic” Which was still kept on his desk. “I did some quick research. Apparently he is a partner in a restaurant chain called Mostro Lounge. Quite impressive!”
“Aaah, so he did well.” Floyd didn't really seem surprised by his brother's success. “Cool~”
“I’m sure you too can have a cool future if you stay at home or take your motorcycle in for repairs.” You advise him gently. “Since the accident occurred due to a clutch failure.”
“Eehh, I just lent Crabby the bike until the weekend” Floyd looked annoyed. “I can’t believe that idiot is going to end up breaking her.”
“Haha…” You laughed awkwardly. “As soon as he returns it to you, just take it to be repaired.”
“Why are you helping me?” He questions, seeming really curious about that act of kindness coming from a stranger.
“I can stop someone from dying. I think anyone else would do the same in my place.” You shrugged. “And from what I saw in your family photo, you're still too young to go to the afterlife so soon” You laughed, trying to relax to make the situation less gloomy. “How old are you, Floyd?”
“Twenty years.”
"Coincidence. Me too."
“Do you think that’s one of the reasons we’re breaking the rules of spacetime?” He laughed nasally and you followed him with a brief giggle.
“To tell the truth, I think it’s because of the house or a red phone I found in the attic.” You theorized, choosing not to think about it anymore. “Maybe both.”
“A red cordless phone?”
“That one.” You confirmed, surprised.
“He is mine. The same one I’m using to talk to you.”
Okay, the weirdness hadn't stopped.
“Did you happen to throw some voodoo on him?” You joked and heard him laughing on the other end.
“If I was capable of something like that, I don’t think I would have died, right?” He replied back, dejectedly.
“Hehe, yeah…” The mood took a turn for the worse once again and you were forced to think of something to change the situation or simply hang up, since you were making the whole room wet. “Look, I’m not able to return your call, much less call you directly. So could you call me the day after tomorrow at the same time?”
"Of course~" His mood appears to have improved, to which Floyd responded excitedly. “I really want to know what the future looks like in fifteen years.”
[…]
The next day, you knocked on your neighbor's door again, this time being answered by Ace's wife.
Today you were committed to taking care of little Alice, since the older woman was going to visit her parents and only return the next day. And Trappola would not be able to take care of her daughter, as he would only arrive after six o'clock.
“You’re on time.” Elisa commented with a friendly smile.
“I like to be punctual!” You stated excitedly. “Are you leaving yet?”
"Yes. I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.” She hands him the house key. “There is food in the fridge if you want to eat, just heat it in the microwave.”
You nod in agreement, waving goodbye to Elisa as she gets into the car and starts it.
You enter the house you were already familiar with and lock the door, finding Alice in the living room watching TV.
“Hi, aunt.” She greets without looking at you, too engrossed in what was playing on the screen.
“Do you prefer to play or watch?” Looking at the screen, you recognized it as the little mermaid movie.
“It starts now!” She turned her head towards him and made those irresistible pious eyes. “Make some popcorn and come watch with me.”
You are unable to deny her request, doing what the girl asks you and after a few minutes returning to the room with a bucket full of popcorn. Already knowing the things that would happen, you weren't very excited about watching the film again, but the songs were still good to listen to and you even found yourself singing one of them together with Alice.
When the film ends, she decides that now she wants to play with dolls, picking up a beautiful plastic baby that was sitting in a child's chair.
“Look, auntie, it’s my new doll!” Alice said happily, practically rubbing the new toy in you face. “She even talks!” The girl presses the doll's chest with both thumbs.
Mommy, I love you.
"Cool!" You feign excitement at the irritatingly childish voice coming out of the object. Dolls hadn't been her thing for years.
“I’ll get another doll upstairs for us to play.” Alice places the toy in you lap and runs upstairs.
Being left alone with that silly toy, you squeeze the doll's chest to hear what other phrases she had.
Let's play!
You squeeze again.
Mommy, I'm hungry.
Again.
Can we go to the park?
One more time.
If you keep going, he'll come get you.
You are startled and let the doll fall from your hands, hurriedly getting up from the floor and moving away. For a moment, you fear that thing will rise up and start attacking you, similar to the killer doll movie. However, seconds pass and the toy remains stagnant on the floor, as lifeless as it always was.
Something in the previously said phrase arouses your curiosity and you raise an eyebrow, wondering who would come to pick you up or if it was just some hideous factory defect, as even the toy's irritating voice had become less childish and more morbid.
Even though you were afraid, you approached and picked her up, squeezing the doll's chest again to see what else she could say.
Mommy, I love you.
You snort, annoyed.
[…]
Ace arrives at eight o'clock, a little later than usual.
“Alice is already in bed.” You tell him as you watch him take off his dress shoes and coat, placing the latter on the hanger.
“Sorry to make you stay late.” He laughs awkwardly and you can tell by the expression on his face that the redhead looks haggard.
“Oh, no. It’s ok.” You reassure him with a gentle smile. “You look tired, is everything okay?”
“It’s just the job.” Ace lets out a heavy sigh, walks over to the sofa you were sitting on and sprawls his body on it, arms completely open under the upholstery.
“What exactly do you do?” You ask curiously, as you never knew about your neighbor's job.
"Counter." Ace responds dejectedly.
You also don't help improve his mood when you burst into laughter, disbelieving that this was the cynical Ace's profession.
"Hey!" The redhead exclaims, annoyed that you're laughing in his face.
“I’m sorry, but this doesn’t suit you at all.” Wiping a tear from your eye, you continue laughing in a less outrageous way.
“Obviously not.” He snorts. “But it’s not like I had a lot of choices.”
"What do you mean?" Calmer after the explosion of laughter, you ask intrigued.
“I was twenty-three when Elisa became pregnant with Alice.” Ace looks towards the stairs where the rooms were, turns his attention to you and lowers his voice. “It was an accident.”
“Oh!” You exclaim, surprised.
“Because of that, I dropped out of college and got a job so I could take care of the baby-”
“College of what?” Although it would be appropriate to continue listening to your friend's story without interrupting, your curiosity gets the better of you and your mouth moves before you can even think.
“Nah, you’ll laugh.”
"No! I won’t, I promise.” You bring your index fingers together to form an “x”, bringing them to your mouth. “Tell me!”
"Teacher." He responds without much ceremony.
You actually keep your promise and don't laugh, but you are truly incredulous that this would be the profession chosen by the mischievous Ace.
“Professor Ace Trappola.” You say slowly, testing how the taste of those words sound to your ears. “Sounds good.”
“Do you think so?” He smiles, apparently more excited by those simple words.
Yes yes." You agree smiling. “But tell me more! What’s the rest of the story?” You question, curious to know more about the redhead's life.
“After two years, Elisa and I got married. We thought it would be good if we got our shit together.” He shrugs and becomes discouraged again. “We already had a baby, we just needed the rings.”
"I'm very sorry." You say painfully, although you didn't know exactly why you were sorry. Maybe because Ace's dreams never came true? For the years lost in a life he never wanted?
“It’s okay, I kind of like being a father.” He gave you a sincere smile and you knew Ace wasn't lying.
“What about Elisa?”
“I like her too.” He responds without the sincere smile from before, just a blank facet. There was no sparkle in his eyes when he mentioned his own wife, you noticed. “You know, I saw you yesterday.” Ace suddenly changes the subject, straightening his posture on the couch to face you.
"As? I didn’t even leave the house.” You raise an eyebrow in disbelief.
“In the window, answering an old phone.” A dirty little smile appears on Ace's lips and you feel like you were missing something.
It still takes a few seconds to understand exactly when that happened, until the penny falls heavily on your head.
“Oh, my God!” You cover your face with the palms of your hands, too embarrassed to look at the redhead. “I’m not a pervert, I swear it was accidental!”
“Hahaha.” It's his turn to laugh about your misfortune and it makes you feel even worse, groaning in annoyance between your fingers. Seeing that you really felt bad about that, Ace immediately stopped laughing. “Okay, okay.” He holds your wrists delicately, gradually lowering the hands that covered your face so that you can face him again. Seeing him now, he seemed to have gotten even closer to you face. “Honestly, I liked the view.” The redhead gives you that stupid smile again.
“Hmm.” You just moan in agreement, still embarrassed and not knowing exactly how to react to Ace's compliment.
“You’re kind of bad at reading the climate.” He laughs one last time, before closing his eyes and breaking the distance that separated your lips from his.
Ace is quick to wrap his tongue around yours when you opened your mouth a little in surprise from the sudden kiss, involuntarily allowing the redhead to explore the inside of your mouth.
Even though you're shocked, it doesn't take you more than three seconds to close your eyelids and let yourself be carried away by the moment. Their tongues come together in a delicate way, exactly like a calm sailing at sea.
His brain gradually fills with pleasure, which was provided by the kiss that became more steamy as time passed. His tongue moved with an impressive mastery that you never had with boys your age.
Inside you there was a damn explosion of happiness, which internally clashed with some bitter emotions present, but which were being furiously crushed as the kiss progressed from a peaceful way to a hotter and wetter one.
Ace didn't seem very distant, wanting you more and more to the point of wanting to become just one with you through your lips that he so wished to kiss. The redhead takes his hand to you head and sinks his fingers into you locks, giving more depth to the kiss, but also making the air in her lungs become increasingly scarce.
The fact that you both needed to breathe became an obstacle in the midst of the pleasure you felt, which forced Ace to stop the kiss and move away a little.
He carefully visualizes the delicate features of your face, as he had done so many times without you noticing, considering that your pink cheeks due to embarrassment or the possible ecstasy of the kiss left you very cute. However, the redhead's greatest attention ended up once again falling on his parted lips, which were now slightly swollen and red. Ace couldn't help but feel attracted and mesmerized by them again, as he had been for a long time.
After normalizing his breathing, he was going towards you for a second kiss, but you stopped him by putting your hand in front of his mouth, preventing Ace from kissing you again.
“Ace, you have a wife.” You do your best not to fall into temptation again.
Although you couldn't deny that you had some conflicted feelings regarding what you felt for Ace, it wasn't fair to stab Elisa in the back. You liked her and didn't want to be a home wrecker. Not only would it harm her, it would also harm little Alice.
"I understand." He says placidly, stepping back. “But Elisa and I are going to separate.”
"Huh!?" You face forms into a clearly confused expression.
“Before you even arrived, things were complicated.” He lets out a tired sigh. “She went to her parents’ house to stay away from me for a while.”
“Did something happen?” Maybe it was rude to ask, but you needed to know if that story was really true.
“We fought yesterday.” His shoulders slumped in dismay. “I wasn’t lying when I said I liked Elisa. I like, but I don't love her anymore.”
“Is it possible for someone to stop loving another person?” A line of disbelief forms on his forehead, doubtful that something like this would be possible between two people who have lived together for so many years.
“In my case, apparently yes.” He laughed half-heartedly. “Elisa and I stayed together for Alice and tried to stay together as a family for her.” The redhead looks away to look at his own bare feet. There was a light of regret and sadness in his crimson eyes. “But we hurt ourselves in the process.” You stay silent, feeling a little sorry for Ace and Elisa, but mostly for Alice. Trappola looks at you again and once again gets dangerously close to you, but he doesn't kiss you. Instead, he places one of his hands on the side of her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb in a clear sign of affection and kindness. "I want you."
You don't know exactly how to feel about this statement. The doubts were still present in his head and apparently the only way to dismiss them was to confirm the words previously said by Ace.
“Are you really going to break up? I don’t want to be a home wrecker, much less be your lover.” You firmly admit.
“In a month. Only a month left until the divorce papers are ready.”
In a bold and unpredictable move that you never expected to come out of your own mouth, the next words would surprise you when you remembered them the next day.
“Let’s go to your room.”
Trappola's crimson eyes shine and a smile of genuine happiness emerges from the corners of his mouth. He jumps off the couch and grabs your hand, dragging you upstairs.
[…]
Before you knew it, Ace already had his face buried between your legs.
His mouth was firmly attached to your intimacy, teasing hickeys with wet and obscene sounds, tasting every bit of your pussy to engrave the taste in his memory.
“You’re so hot.” Ace praises, placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh and then returning to attack her sensitive parts.
Even with one hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, you still moan loudly, feeling him focus exclusively on your clit, licking and sucking with such devotion that you can't stop yourself from taking your other free hand to locks Ace, squeezing a bundle of unruly red strands. He was very good at making your pussy the most appetizing thing in the world.
It had only been a few minutes since Ace was fucking you so fervently, but even in that short time you already felt the heat in your belly building up more and more, ready to explode. He was amazing at oral sex, probably due to years of experience. Your hand would never satisfy you in the same way again after experiencing the wonder that Ace mouth was capable of provi.
Trappola's teeth graze over your sensitive spot and you let out a whiny moan, drops of tears splashing your eyes due to the ecstasy you've never felt. Your soaked little hole was begging for a piece of meat, to the point where your warm, velvety walls tightened around nothing as Ace fucked you with his tongue.
You involuntarily lift your hips several times, while sparks of pleasure cross your body in a clear sign that you were close to finally reaching the fullness of pleasure.
“Ace I… Ah!… I… Ngh… I’m going to…” You remove your hand from in front of your mouth to warn him, but your moans were making it difficult for you to form a coherent sentence.
He looks deeply at you with his scarlet orbs filled with lust and possession, before pulling away to give you that stupid little smile and order in a husky voice.
“Cum for me, dear.” It's the last thing Ace says before he goes back to attacking your sensitive pussy with more frenzy than before, without taking his eyes off you.
You don't know if it's because of the eroticism of those words, the way he looks at you or even the most obvious reason that his mouth was on your vulva, but you scream and finally reach your limit. The knot that had formed in your abdomen dissolves in a hot orgasm and your hips rise again, at the same time that your entire body spasms constantly with pleasure.
Even after he has successfully made you cum, Ace continues to lick you more gently, sucking the clear fluid that comes out of your tight hole. He only moves away when he feels sufficiently satisfied, a thick thread of drool connecting your wet pussy to his mouth, but which soon falls apart the further away these two are.
“Please tell me your room has thick walls.” You inquire heavily, recovering from the newly felt high.
“Don’t worry about making loud noises.” Ace laughs and crawls until he is at the height of your face, kissing you and making you feel your own taste still present in the older man's mouth. Your arms circle around his neck and you reciprocate without any reluctance in that act.
Ace's hand roams your already fully naked body, sliding from your soft abdomen to your newly stimulated crotch, touching your hole. Upon noticing what he was about to do, you quickly close your legs and stop Trappola from continuing with his actions. You break the kiss and moderately push him away with your elbow, sitting on the bed.
“What’s the matter?” Ace asks as he puts his weight under his knees, clearly confused by your quick change in attitude.
“That's kind of embarrassing to say.” An awkward laugh passes your lips and you look away. “I’m still a virgin.”
Ace remains silent for about three seconds, before exclaiming in perplexity:
“Whoa, really?” He quickly removes his hand from between your legs.
“Yes, but I hope that’s not a problem for you.” You bite your bottom lip nervously and look back at him.
“Haha, that’s no problem at all.” Ace laughed, that beautiful energetic smile you loved so much adorning the mature features of his face. “I’m just surprised by that. I mean, you’re so pretty.” You were taken aback by the compliment and your face heated up as you watched the way he looked at you affectionately.
“I don’t want you to take my virginity with your fingers.” You laughed at your own words, quickly changing the subject. Honestly, you didn't want to ruin the mood by commenting on your practically non-existent love life. “And honestly, I think I’m already wet enough to welcome you.” You direct your eyes to Ace's intimacy, noticing a voluminous bulge in his underwear, as well as a dark stain on the tip of his cock protruding forward. "Do you have a condom?"
“Look, married people don’t use condoms.” He mocked with a stupid little smile.
Shit.
“Seriously, I always told myself I would never do this without a condom.” You laughed, disbelieving that you would end up breaking the only rule you had made when you had your first time. However, even more disbelieved given how much you trusted Ace to give in so easily without even thinking twice.
“Does that mean?” Ace inquires expectantly.
You respond to him with actions, lying back on the bed and vulgarly opening your legs, exposing your intimate area with the clear intention of someone waiting to be fucked.
Trappola swallows hard, feeling his cock throb at how beautifully erotic you were as you so willingly gave yourself to him. Even kneeling on the bed, Ace is quick, practically euphoric in getting rid of the only piece of clothing that prevented him from fucking you. The redhead positions himself above you and places one hand on your hip, while the other is responsible for guiding his own cock towards your slippery hole.
“Can I?” Ace checks before taking any action, although his breathing was clearly heavy, yearning to fuck you.
"Yes." You say a little shyly, even though your actions so far have been quite naughty.
With the confirmation Ace needed, he slowly pushes his erect member inside you, sighing in delight at finally being able to feel your warm, velvety walls wrapped around his cock.
On the other hand, the sensation was a little strange at first, until it became painful as Trappola advanced further inside, breaking your hymen and then filling you with his cock. The length of Ace's member inside your vaginal canal was more than acceptable, but you squeeze the bed sheets between your fingers and let out a low moan of pain.
"You are incredible." Ace comments with restrained euphoria, marveling at having you all to himself. However, upon noticing his expression of pain, he asks worriedly. “Does it hurt?”
"A little." You shift uncomfortably in bed. “But you can continue.” You calm down with a sweet smile on your lips, not minding being a little hasty even after having graduated from your virginity literally seconds ago. You hands circle around the redhead's neck again and bring him for you lips touch his in a warm kiss.
He reciprocates immediately, but it doesn't take long for Ace to pull away from your mouth and decide it's time to move after feeling his cock throb in excitement, practically begging to be moved and finally fuck you rough.
The redhead moves his hips away a little, enough so that half of his rigid penis remains outside your gummy walls, then returns entirely inside you with a hard thrust all the way to the bottom. Ace lets out a heavy sigh as soon as he receives a delicious grip around his member, intensely loving that pleasurable sensation of a young pussy like yours.
However, this action was responsible for causing you to gasp in pain, but unlike the first time it was completely ignored by Ace, as he no longer cared about trying to be gentle after you yourself approved that he continued to fuck you.
Addicted to getting more of those delicious squeezes, Ace successively starts to do the same actions mentioned above, but in a slower back and forth so that he doesn't reach orgasm so soon. After all, he didn't imagine that you virgin pussy would be so hot.
You periodically continue to let out one or another moan of pain, without having yet been able to feel any trace of pleasure in it, although it is no longer as agonizing as it was at first. Trying to feel as good as Ace felt when he fucked you, you take one of your hands towards your clitoris, rubbing it with your index and middle fingers. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as spikes of delight begin to circulate through your body even in the midst of the feeling of agony.
“Still bothered?” Ace laughs softly when he realizes what was happening and removes his hand so he can take care of the situation himself, too proud to let you pleasure yourself. “Let me do this for you.” He asks, at the same time that Ace's thumb touches your sensitive spot, making rotating movements with a fixation much greater than you could alone.
“Oh!” You exclaim not only in surprise, but also in jubilation. Touching herself felt good, but being touched by someone else felt even better, bringing her a never-before-felt feeling of ecstasy.
The older man bends down a little and dips his face into the side of your neck, licking and leaving marks of love on your previously immaculate skin. A heavy sigh escapes your lips and your previously rigid body begins to relax on the bed as Ace continues to stimulate you in different ways. His dick inside you wasn't so bad anymore, starting to become less strange and more dizzying.
“Ace, this feels so good.” You say with a ragged breath, enchanted by how sex could be something wonderful and addictive. You didn't regret giving your virginity to Trappola one bit.
“I feel good too.” Ace whispers close to your ear, before gently biting your earlobe in teasing. A pleasant shiver runs through your body through this action and you reciprocate by biting his neck gently, weak enough to not leave marks. You wouldn't be stupid enough to do that when Ace was still married. “Oh, how cute.” He comments with a wicked laugh and you are indignant, taking revenge on him by putting a little more pressure against the redhead's skin, consequently hearing him moan in pain. “I take back what I said.”
You both laugh through sex, captivated by each other. However, Ace breaks the romantic mood by pulling away and removing his still hard penis from inside you. A groan leaves your lips, dissatisfied by the sudden absence of your intimacy.
“It’s okay, I won’t stop.” Ace soothes by kissing the top of his head. “But wouldn’t you like to try other positions?” He suggests, but before you can say anything, Trappola easily handles your body that had been claimed by himself, placing you on your side and positioning himself behind you, resulting in the redhead's penis touching the soft and warm skin of your buttock. Ace appreciates the slightest touch, letting out a sigh and feeling terribly tempted to give you a bite in that area, but deciding to leave that for another time. “What do you think?” He asks, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck.
“As long as it’s good…” You mutter without having an opinion of your own due to a complete lack of experience.
Ace slowly passes his hand down the length of your incredibly hot body, starting at your shoulder, sliding down your waist, feeling your hip and hovering over your thigh, lifting the latter without the slightest difficulty so that he could have better access to your hole and thus calm down his greedy hormones.
You were so deliciously wet, that Ace's member practically slid inside, being immediately massaged by your pussy that already responded to his thrust. Feeling like that, stretching and welcoming him as if Ace's member was already a natural part of your body, was like pouring gasoline on a fire.
It was inevitable. He felt the need to move quickly inside. And with a powerful thrust of his hips, the redhead delighted in feeling the limits of his tight intimacy, at the same time as he was gifted with a heavy moan from you, which only served to elevate his ego even more.
Ace's other free hand reached under your body to return to the work from before, which involved stimulating your sensitive clit. He started to move his hips faster, making a complete mess of you and eliciting several moans. However, if you continued moaning so sweetly for him, the redhead wouldn't be able to last two minutes in the paradise he was in.
Even though he wanted to prolong the fuck he was having, Trappola's body no longer seemed to obey his wishes due to the pleasure that had accumulated in his cock. Fortunately, you don't seem too far from that.
“Y/n!” Ace pants your name and closes his eyes, letting his seed fill your previously virgin hole with hot steady streams.
You come soon after, letting out a sharp scream as your pussy milks him with constant squeezes until the last drop fills you.
When Ace's pleasure is finally released inside you, your body becomes completely limp and your breathing is labored.
The redhead rested your leg on the bed and with the hand that was previously holding it he began to caress and eventually squeeze your buttocks, admiring the sperm that dripped from your pussy and slid down your thighs. Ace had come in very large amounts, pleased that you took all of him
“You were amazing.” Ace praised sincerely, placing an affectionate kiss on her reddened cheek. It was actually funny of him to say that, after all, you did absolutely nothing during sex.
“I hope your wife has some birth control.” You murmured as you recovered from your orgasmic high.
“She can’t get pregnant anymore.” He lets out a muffled laugh against your neck.
“Urgh.” An annoyed grumble leaves his lips.
You would have to buy contraceptives the next day or Alice would end up getting a new baby brother.
[…]
You left minutes after sex.
Although Ace insisted that you spend the night with him, you couldn't because of your parents. They wouldn't be stupid enough to believe any excuse you came up with to stay at the redhead's house all night, especially when your house was literally opposite his. At least you already had an excuse ready for his delay, saying that Trappola had arrived late from work, which actually happened.
Oh, yes. You also stole that doll from hell.
Although he felt sorry for knowing that Alice would be sad to wake up and no longer find her new toy, it was still better than leaving a seemingly cursed doll in her arms.
You burned her the next day and the doll no longer made a sound.
Thank you for reading this far! Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Tw: kidnapping, stalking, non-con, breaking and entering, slight somnophilia, misogynistic undertones, traditional gender roles, mentions of forced breeding/forced motherhood, murder, violence, lots of descriptions of killing methodologies, slight mentions of self induced wounds, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 11K
DARLING PROFILE:
Gentle
It takes Illumi a long time to develop feelings for his darling for a multitude of reasons.
Emotional unavailability, high expectations, and disinterest, just to name a few, and while he isn’t actively searching for a partner, there are a few base requirements he knows his future partner must meet.
Strong, intelligent, hard working, everything desirable that he knows both he and his family would approve of.
But once he meets his darling, his interest slightly peaked in them, that list begins changing slightly.
Because while the feelings are slow to solidify, Illumi notices quickly that his darling is so, so painfully averse to being harsh.
They’re not confrontational, treat others with a level of attentiveness and care that initially makes him scoff, and he doesn’t think he’s once seem them ever lose control of themselves and explode.
It’s uncanny, unnatural, as far as Illumi is concerned, and yet it’s fascinating. He slowly grows to admire this trait in his darling, how they can be so unconditionally soft with everything and everyone around them, eventually finding himself more and more attracted to them with every kind deed they do. It makes them weak, easy to manipulate, easy to kill, but Illumi finds it oddly endearing.
He’s always firmly believed that mothers should be nurturing to their children, to help them grow and shape them into the best versions of themselves possible, and while they’re opposite to his mother in many ways, maybe that gentility they possess is a the perfect thing needed.
Once he’s decided that his darling is his future wife, he’s immediately moving to experience this kindness for himself.
He comes back from missions with a little more blood and bruising than was necessary, but the way his darling gasps and quickly grabs the medical kit makes Illumi blink in wide fascination, unsure what drives them to eagerly spring into action but more than ready to feel their soft touch.
(They don’t need to know that Illumi allowed the target to get a few more hits in than necessary, just to keep them fawning over him as long as possible, or that he had to refuse ten different medical personnel in the mansion before making it to their shared ‘bedroom’.)
He likes the juxtaposition between his darling and him, and while it occasionally irritates him that they’re so soft and weak, it’s more endearing than anything else – just don’t be soft with anyone else but him, yes?
Smart
Illumi may be morally misguided, but the man is intelligent. He knows more about the human body than many doctors, and is skilled beyond belief in the art of combat and stealth.
He understands the best ways to go about gathering intel on a target without being traced or caught, and is able to apply that knowledge to set up traps correlating to his employers’ requests.
And this is a trait he’s simply unwilling to compromise when it comes to a partner – they must be able to keep up with him mentally.
They don’t need to have the same kind of intelligence as him, but the ability to critically think and quickly understand is a necessity. Illumi has very little patience for stupidity, and the thought of spending time with someone who doesn’t understand most of what he says is irritating.
And so, once his feelings for his darling begin appearing, Illumi is putting them through a small series of tests to make sure they live up to his expectations. It’s nothing too intense, nothing he wouldn’t be able to do himself.
He’s leaving extra clues that he’s been in his darling’s apartment – clumsy signs that he’d never normally leave, in the hopes that they’ll realize they’ve had an unwanted guest.
Cabinets are left ajar, their bed slightly unmade, though the thing that really clues them in is the presence of long, dark locks of hair around their apartment that they know aren’t theirs.
They’d never leave hair on the kitchen table; they’d see it and remove it, mildly disgusted. And yet, here three locks lay, making them a bit paranoid as they call the police.
Illumi intercepts the call, making sure it never rings through, but he’s still proud of his darling, satisfaction pooling in his chest because he just knew they’d pick up on it.
He likes knowing his darling is competent, and that their future children will be so too – the next Zoldyck heirs can’t be clueless, after all.
Generous
In general, Illumi isn’t particularly selfish with those he holds dear.
With the exception of Killua, Illumi has always willingly done as he’s been told.
He’s never demanded much from his parents, never insisting on material goods. He’s never felt cheated out of anything, either – his parents have molded him into the perfect assassin, and he couldn’t be more grateful for the rigor and training he received as a child.
And yet, once his darling enters his life, Illumi finds himself feeling strangely overwhelmed. They always seem to be giving things away – their time, bits of food they’ve cooked, their love, other things material and not alike.
It confuses Illumi; it makes him wonder why they’re wasting their resources on people they don’t know well, on those who likely wouldn’t reciprocate.
It’s a mystery, and frankly he finds his darling to be foolish for it – until one day it’s focused at him.
Illumi can’t comprehend why his darling is willingly giving away a bit of their time when they encounters him – in another body – disguised as a homeless man begging for change.
There’s a pitied look in their eye as they hand him the bills – two dollars, just what they had in change and could afford to give away – and tells him there’s a gas station nearby with cheap snacks he can eat.
Illumi just stares at them, not understanding why they’re helping, and soon he’s asking just that.
They startle and awkwardly laugh, telling him it’s because they don’t like seeing others in need, and they were only planning on spending that money to buy junk foods for themselves, anyways.
Illumi blinks, but his darling is soon speed walking away, the interaction feeling strange and uncomfortable.
Illumi still doesn’t understand, but it becomes another one of the facets of his darling that he simply learns to enjoy.
He yearns to understand what compels them to put others before themselves (something that yet again irritates him a bit), but he finds that the more he interacts with them, the more he enjoys being the recipient of it.
He’s finally receiving a bit of love and support that isn’t forced from his parents, and he quickly grows addicted.
Enjoys children
The reality of the situation is that as Illumi’s darling, they will be forced to interact with children whether they want to or not.
Namely, their own.
Having a family with him is not optional, and Illumi will never present it as such – once he decides his darling is to be his partner, they automatically become his future wife, the future mother of his children.
He cannot be swayed, regardless of what his darling wants.
However, while it’s still possible for him to grow obsessed with a darling who isn’t especially fond of kids, it’s much more likely that he grows attracted to the ease with which they’re able to communicate with them.
He likes the way they get so happy when a child walks up to them, how they’re immediately squatting down and smiling, playing hide and seek with their own face as the child giggles and beams.
He never knew that sort of innocent and sweet interaction when he himself was a child, but he doesn’t view it as a bad thing if his darling is able to make a child happy.
It’ll only benefit them as parents – it’ll help strengthen the bond, and make their children more malleable and receptive to their guidance.
Besides, there’s something about seeing his darling next to a baby that makes his skin feel hot, eyes blowing wide and his trousers tightening.
The image just looks so right, so natural and perfect that Illumi has to hold himself back from bending them over and fucking them right then and there.
Talent with children is an incredibly attractive trait for Illumi, and likely it's the final nail in the coffin that seals his obsession with his darling – one giggling toddler is all that’s needed to seal their fate.
GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:
Stalker
More than anything, stalking you is the only method of ‘interaction’ with you that Illumi feels truly comfortable with.
He knows how to stay invisible; tracking others is easy, as is staying in the shadows and keeping that wide, unnaturally glassy stare on them. He’s used to watching but not being seen, and it’s only natural to extend this towards you. It feels right to be watching you, like he’s where he’s meant to be, and for the beginning of his obsession he spends every free moment stalking you, hiding in corners or shadows and just staring.
(And really, this behavior lasts all throughout his infatuation, even when he’s got you trapped in the Zoldyck manor, even when you’re nursing his baby, even when you’ve both grown old and death approaches – it’s just that in the beginning, you’re not aware of the black eyes that follow your every move. And that’s a luxury that gets taken all too soon, as you find yourself longing for ignorance of Illumi in every possible way.)
Not to mention, there is no part of him that feels any guilt for it – he’s a cold-blooded assassin, of course, but at no point does it occur to him that it may be strange to be following you, or that you wouldn’t appreciate him watching over you (and watching you, generally).
He doesn’t understand that he shouldn’t approach you like he approaches a target – of course, you won’t be on the receiving end of his needles (at least, not with death his ultimate goal – perhaps something less lethal, like love or submission or lust), but otherwise his intentions are the same.
(Well, mostly – not really, actually, because Illumi doesn’t feel this strange, pleasant warmth in his chest when he’s watching his targets, nor does he feel particularly intrigued when he’s staring at them as they sleep, watching their chest rise and fall and the relaxed, utterly content expression on their face.)
The process of stalking you is remarkably similar to his jobs – first, he’ll choose a place within your home that gives him a good, solid vantage point with minimal risk that he’ll be noticed.
(Though, it’s not exactly hard to hide when you’re so damn oblivious – Illumi swears you have little to no awareness of your surroundings, if the way you sometimes knock into tables or trip over shoes in your doorway is anything to go by.)
His stand-by places are usually in a rarely used storage closet with the door cracked open, just wide enough for his dark eyes to peer through, or perhaps behind a chair you rarely use, crouched and peeking behind the cloth, and when you sit down in said chair, it gives Illumi the opportunity to stand up slightly, towering over you and getting a perfect view of your pretty body and smelling your hair.
But if it’s nighttime and you’re already snuggled up in your bed, eyes glued to your phone screen as you scroll and scroll and neglect your sleep, he'll stand silently and deathly still in the corner.
He’s able to stay perfectly still and maintain the same position for hours at a time, hardly blinking, hardly moving, hardly even breathing, it seems.
And he’s utilizing this skill set to its full potential when it comes to you – Illumi is greedy, and while this doesn’t initially get channeled into being overly possessive of you (though that certainly comes later), it instead translates into this insatiable need to constantly have his eyes on you and to be in your presence every moment he isn’t needed on a job.
There are no boundaries with him, because Illumi genuinely doesn’t see the need to have them. You’re already destined to spend your lives together, so why shouldn’t he start the process of learning more about you?
Autonomy doesn’t really exist with him – he could be considered clingy if his view of your lives being so irreversibly intertwined wasn’t as clinical and matter of fact.
And so Illumi doesn’t operate barred by any sort of moral guidelines – so when he’s using his needles to morph into another face so that he can practice the lines and compliments he’s been told by his mother that will make you swoon, it doesn’t register to him that it might be creepy that he’s practicing wooing you in another body.
(The man is disturbing, and you’re uncomfortable with the way this stranger doesn’t seem to be getting the hint that you want him to leave you alone; why is he standing so close to you? Why is he staring at you like that? Why is he following you?)
It doesn’t register to him that it’s a breach of trust to be pretending to be someone you love and trust, just to extract more information about you.
(Your cousin is acting strangely when they speak to you – their words are clipped and sound just slightly off, and you’re sure they already know what your dreams for the future are. You’ve talked about this with them before, so why are they questioning you on what your ideal house looks like, your ideal partner, your favorite baby names?)
He spends a lot of time observing you, collecting information on you in every way he can, and this doesn’t stop once you’re trapped by his side and with the rest of his crazy, horrible family – it’s a habit, more than anything, but it’s so much worse when you’re aware, when you can see and feel his dark eyes boring into you, making you squirm under the intensity of his gaze.
Of course, talking to him about it won’t do a single thing – only earning you a slight head tilt and a question of does it bother you when I watch you? I apologize, I only meant to keep an eye on you, my dear.
He genuinely doesn’t understand that stalking you and keeping a tab on you at all times is something that you very much don’t appreciate, but you’ll quickly come to learn that with Illumi, there’s only so much you can change – so much being quite literally nothing.
Controlling
This particular manifestation of his obsession with you is a culmination of many different things.
Firstly, it’s simply his personality – when he loves, he possesses, this ugly, carnal feeling stirring in his gut that pushes him to be in control, to guide and oversee every little thing the target of his love does. He’s always felt this way with Killua – he loves his brother immensely, but that love translates as being controlling and always keeping a finger on what Killua does, says, and feels.
Secondly, it’s the intense pressure coming from his family. Kikyo expects your total obedience both to her and her son, and while Illumi can sometimes stand up to his mother on matters where your safety and wellbeing are concerned, he can’t deny her expectations of you being absolutely subservient to him, bending to his every whim and allowing him to dictate every aspect of your life.
And finally, it’s his own paranoia that pushes him to micromanage you in every way possible. He’s never had someone to call his before – he’s unselfish in nature, dedicating himself to his family in every possible way, and now that he’s been given a woman to call his own, to spoil and love and keep by his side, he’s not entirely sure how to react.
Your presence soothes him in a way he’s never experienced before; you’re so soft and caring and warm, all things he’s never had. His life has been hardships and tough love, training and never being good enough, and now that you’re in the picture, Illumi isn’t entirely sure how to handle himself.
He doesn’t doubt himself, per se, but he’s unsure how to successfully navigate a marriage. Would you like it if he was more physical with you? Perhaps you’d like more hugs or for him to hold your hand or kiss you more often – that’s what all the popular media resources he’s looked into have told him.
Or maybe you’d prefer a more quiet, subtle kind of love, where you both support one another with meaningful looks and the occasional touch, whispered words that carry more weight than they seem.
He’s not sure, despite all the stalking and information retrieving he’s preformed in your name, and that makes him nervous. He doesn’t like that he can’t anticipate what you’ll want or how to make you happy – it makes him feel less-than, as if he’s not quite the perfect match that his mother and father have always said his wife will be.
He doesn’t like not being sure of himself, and so this worry manifests itself as becoming firmer in his treatment of you, locking down on the few things he’s absolutely sure of.
It comes off as controlling, sure, but Illumi doesn’t mean to be when he’s telling you what to wear, rifling through the closet he procured for you and pulling out a dress he thinks suits your complexion – you may hate it, but he likes it, so you’ll wear it.
He’s not trying to be controlling when he’s clicking his tongue lightly and telling you to keep your posture straight, dear every time you sit down, even if your shoulders are only barely, slightly slumped.
He’s not trying to be controlling when he’s standing over the bathtub and watching you wash yourself, telling you to use more soap, darling, don’t you want to be clean?
(Nevermind his dark eyes blinking slowly and getting stuck on the soapy outline of your breasts under the warm water – surely you’re just imagining that, along with the tent forming in his trousers.)
He’s not trying to be controlling when he’s roughly grabbing your hand and forcing you behind him when you’re walking through the hallways of the manor, his gaze narrowing at the butler standing at attention, paranoia eating away at him because he could have sworn the man was staring at you as you entered the room, and he can’t have that. Even as an employee of the family, no one but Illumi can look at you with any degree of desire – you are his, and if it means cleaning up a body and finding a new butler to replace him, Illumi will do what is needed to keep you his.
IIlumi is quite frankly totally unaware of his controlling behavior – he doesn’t realize anything is wrong because in his eyes nothing is wrong. This is love – it’s how his father always treated his mother when he was young, his eyes cold and his heart even colder, his words cutting her down and remolding her into a woman more fitting of being the matriarch of the Zoldycks.
And while he doesn’t want to break you down or remake you, he’s following his father’s example in making sure that you’re entirely accounted for. You’re his responsibility, and while he doesn’t view you as merely a pet, you’ll often feel like a glorified dog with the way he controls your life down to every second, always telling you that it’s time to go eat, or time to sleep, or time to shower, or time to kiss him and let him undress you.
He's pushy without even meaning to be, but if you bring this behavior up to him, he’ll be surprised. Genuinely – his brows will quirk up ever so slightly, his already wide eyes getting a hair wider because really? I had no idea, my dear. Thank you for bringing this to my attention; I will reduce the frequency on my instructions towards you.
But he doesn’t, even if he promises he will.
And it’s not entirely his fault – he thinks he is, even going so far as to be expectant of your praise when he holds himself back from telling you to use the other fork when he’s dining with you privately. Surely you must be proud of him – he’s doing as you asked, being a good husband and fulfilling your desires and wishes.
So why aren’t you praising him?
Why aren’t you mentioning anything about how generous he’s being, how considerate he is?
You’ve blatantly disregarded his attempts at trying to be less ‘controlling’, as you claim, and Illumi takes this as a sign to only double down and become more omnipresent, because obviously you haven’t quite learned how to be a kind, grateful, adoring wife.
You haven’t quite yet learned the lessons he’s been trying to teach you – so you need more guidance. You need more advice, a firmer hand to push you towards becoming the best, most noble version of yourself, and lucky, lucky you has a loving, oh so eager husband right there willing to step into that role.
He’s domineering and in control of every aspect of your life, but there’s almost a small sense of relief that you’ll eventually feel. Because really, while it makes you feel weak and pathetic and pitiful to have him controlling how long you brush your teeth every morning and night, isn’t there something kind of nice about relinquishing your responsibilities? Isn’t there something oddly nice about not having to make your own decisions, to let Illumi take care of everything, to not have to worry about anything ever again?
It's the Stockholm Syndrome talking, and you may even know it – but it doesn’t matter, because the longer you spend under Illumi’s thumb, the less you’ll find yourself caring about things like choice and autonomy and preference. All that matter is what he wants, what he thinks is best – because really, doesn’t he know best?
Isn’t he superior to you in every possible way?
Protective
Illumi has a very, very good understanding of the human body.
He has to – his job depends on it, after all, and Illumi is nothing if not dedicated to his work. He knows every muscle, vein, and bone, their purpose and exactly what it would mean if it was removed.
He knows what organs must stay in tact for survival, how much blood a person can lose and stay conscious, how cold temperature can drop before hypothermia begins, even how long a person can survive without sleeping.
And it’s this wide breadth of knowledge that leads Illumi to know just how pathetically weak you are.
There are so many possible ways to hurt you – everything from a gunshot to a paper cut could potentially end your tragically fragile life, and the longer Illumi watches you, the more uncomfortable this knowledge becomes.
It’s not that you’re objectively incapable of defending yourself – perhaps you know some basic self-defense, or perhaps your survival instincts are sharp enough to keep you away from dangerous situations. No – it’s more that Illumi knows what other people are capable of, what nen is capable of, and he knows that you’d simply be no match if someone were to attack you.
And so, this puts him into a rather uncomfortable spot; at the beginning of his obsession with you, when his feels were still freshly formed and underdeveloped, he felt no sense of protectiveness over you. You’re an adult, you can care for yourself – you’ve survived this long, haven’t you?
But then he starts noticing how wide your smile can get, or how soft your hand is when you’re sleeping, or how pretty your voice sounds when you’re singing in your kitchen and making yourself dinner.
He starts noticing that you’ve been biting your lip, the skin a little puffy and swollen and stinging a bit. Did you know that your lip could get infected, and if you don’t get to a doctor fast enough, that infection could cost you your life?
He starts noticing that the skin of your hands is a little dry, and you keep getting hangnails. Did you know that dry skin can be a sign of serious nutrition deficiencies, and if you don’t enough potassium you could end up in the hospital and slowly waste away until you eventually can no longer hold on?
He starts noticing that sometimes your voice gets a little hoarse after you try to sing a particularly high note, your voice cracking and a series of coughs racking your body. Did you know that if you cough too hard, you can actually strain your lungs and affect their ability to take in oxygen, potentially suffocating you?
Time passing brings him to the realization that the idea of you dying makes him frown, something unpleasant brewing in his chest that he guesses is sadness. He doesn’t like the idea of you passing away – he wants you alive, and if you were to die, he wouldn’t be able to watch you anymore, to feel that warm, addicting feeling in his heart you give him. If you were to suddenly keel over and die, he’d be left all alone – like normal, yes, but now that he knows what it's like to have someone, to want someone, Illumi doesn’t think he could return to his old existence.
And so, the solution is simple: keep you alive.
Except, it’s much harder to keep someone living and breathing than it is to simply kill them, and quickly Illumi is realizing just how tall an order this is. Because really, there’s just so much that could potentially injure you, that could potentially lead to your life being in danger.
You’re just so damn clumsy – he’s watched you trip over air, and if you’re that naturally unaware of your surroundings, who’s to say you wouldn’t be susceptible to even the most minor injuries? How can he be sure that you’ll manage to evade even the most innocent of accidents?
You won’t. He’s sure of it.
And so, he’s growing slightly paranoid because every new object you encounter is immediately a threat to him, five different ways that object could endanger you immediately flashing through his mind.
A pair of car keys? They’re dull and blunt, sure, but if they were thrust into your chest just right they could rupture something, cause you to bleed out, give you tetanus or metal poisoning.
A book you’re obsessing over? You could get a papercut, a slice across your pretty skin, and Kalluto has proven that paper can be incredibly deadly.
Your damn cell phone? Well, the screen is horrible for your eyes, your information could be sold and land in the hands of someone nefarious, and he knows you look at it while you’re walking on busy streets.
There’s just so many avenues for you to get hurt, and Illumi works himself to the bone to prevent any of them from successfully causing you harm. And he’s effective, too – you’ll find your knives have suddenly disappeared, your razors too, even any sort of pill you have that’s stronger than Ibuprofen.
All your outlets have suddenly stopped working, your ovens too, even your dishwasher.
Your shower doesn’t seem to be able to get as hot as it used to, and you don’t remember your pillows being as fluffy or numerous as they currently are.
You’ll know something is wrong, your anxiety shooting through the roof because someone must be robbing you, setting foot into your home and stealing all your things.
The reality is much more sinister, much more terrifying, and as soon as you wake up in Illumi’s hold, you’ll realize that your situation is much, much worse than you’d imagined.
He’s going to every length to keep you safe and sound from potential harm, even if it leaves you feeling pitiful and beyond ashamed, the babyproofed bathroom he lets you use making you ill when you see the way there’s locks on the cabinets to prevent you from rooting around for anything that could cause irreparable damage.
It’ll make you feel incompetent, embarrassed even when Illumi tries to comfort you by saying that he doesn’t think you’re incapable, just not entirely trustworthy, my dear. There’s a difference.
(His voice is always just slightly condescending when he talks to you, and this is surely no exception – it’ll make you feel worse, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.)
Because really, all that matters to Illumi is making sure that you stay alive – he’s selfish, wanting to keep you solely to himself, and even if that means making sure you go nowhere unaccompanied, to nothing without his help, make no decisions by yourself, he doesn’t mind.
He’s doing it for you, for your shared love, for the good of your relationship.
And if you don’t seem to understand that for now, he’s sure someday you will. Someday you’ll realize the extent to which Illumi cares for you – why else would he do so very much for you, his devotion to you spanning long before he finally got to sink his claws (and cock) into you?
So really, shouldn’t you be grateful?
DEALING WITH RIVALS:
Jealousy is very much not something Illumi has ever really had to deal with.
His whole life has been training, killing, devotion to his family and the Zoldyck name, and as an assassin he’s never really been envious of anyone, or really had strong enough feelings about anything to want something.
It’s a concept he understands in theory but begins questioning it when it comes to the way it makes people crazy, the way people act so strangely in circumstances where envy and jealousy are concerned. It seems entirely stupid, something that only serves to derail situations.
And yet, once a strange nagging feeling begins at the edges of his mind, Illumi finds himself wondering if this is the famous jealousy he’s always heard of.
It doesn’t feel good – it’s like there’s something pulling at his heart, a hand wrapped around it and squeezing every so often, the feeling almost painful and certainly irritating.
But the more he’s around you, the more it persists – almost seeming to grow by the day, even if you’re fully alone, in your apartment reading a book or scrolling through your phone. Illumi very suddenly understands why jealousy is known as something so horrible, something that eats you up inside and won’t leave you alone – that is, Illumi quickly begins noticing that he isn’t the only man vying for your attention and love.
Because he’s constantly watching you, following you and making sure that he knows everything there is to know about your life and relationships with others, he doesn’t miss the situations where you interact with another man, where you smile and laugh and even compliment other men, all right in front of him.
(Illumi tends to conveniently disregard the fact that you aren’t able to sense him, that you aren’t aware that you have a dangerous, murderous stalker trailing your every move.)
It’s irritating, frustrating, distracting enough to be seriously affecting his work – he’ll have a fleeting thought of the way you’d smiled at that other man a week ago as he goes for the final stab into the target’s chest, but the slight snarl he lets out has him missing just slightly, instead nicking the target in the shoulder and giving them an opportunity to scramble away.
Illumi’s irritation only increases at that, and soon there’s blood splattered along the floor as he breaths deeply, the red staining his clothing standing out bright.
He really tried to ignore it at first, but once it began affecting him even when he’s not in your presence, Illumi knew he had to solve the problem. And after a quick, rather detached conversation with his father about it, Illumi was quickly enlightened that he was in fact jealous, his father having laughed lightly and patting him on the arm, telling him that it’s natural to feel that way about your wife, Illumi. Your duty is as an assassin, but as a member of this family. If the woman you’ve chosen to bear your heir is giving you such feelings, I see no harm in acting upon them. It will serve you well to focus more on your work, as well.
And so Illumi embraces this newfound permission to foster this emotion - it’s odd, the way what he’s fairly confident is anger coils around his heart, making his fists clench slightly, his nails digging into his palms as he watches you talk and laugh with that man. That man, who probably doesn’t even know how to use nen, who probably doesn’t even understand how perfect of a wife you could be, how good of a mother and perfect addition to his family you’d be.
It’s strange, and while Illumi doesn’t particularly enjoy it, he can’t deny the odd sense of finality that comes with killing without being paid to, the strange sensation of enjoying ending a life. He finds himself smiling after plunging his nails into a man’s jugular, but Illumi isn’t too horribly bothered.
It’s new and strange, but so is everything else you make Illumi experience, after all. Why should this be any different?
As he trails behind you in the shadows, his dark eyes train in on your figure as you bite your lip and look over the selection of fruit displayed out on the cart of the farmer’s market.
Illumi stays perfectly still, completely focused on watching you. You’re wearing a pair of jeans today, pants that hug your figure a little too tightly for his tastes, along with a sweatshirt that does quite the opposite – hiding your upper body, which Illumi only finds slightly more agreeable.
(In the back of his mind, he makes a mental note to have a talk with you about proper dress for a woman such as yourself – a woman who’s to become part of a powerful, wealthy family, and as such must represent them - and her husband - with her head held high and confidence oozing from her. He’s sure a nice skirt and blouse will do the trick – silky or satin, shimmery and soft like you. Or, perhaps, a dress – maybe a floral pattern or a deep magenta. Of course, you’ll eventually be wearing purple, the Zoldyck family color, but he knows women enjoy fashion, and he's interested to see what you’d pick.)
As he thinks through what he’ll say to you, already planning out how the conversation will go, he notices a man with shaggy brown hair and honey brown eyes take a deep breath and walk beside you, standing next to you and looking over the selection of apples, pears, oranges and various other fruits.
Illumi’s expression makes no change as the brunette says something about how there’s always too many options at markets like these, types of fruit that he’s never heard of making it difficult to choose, to which you laugh and full heartedly agree.
The assassin makes no move, but as he watches and listens with distaste lodged in the back of his throat, you continue on the conversation, asking the man’s advice on which type of apple you should get.
It’s a short interaction, in all honesty - maybe a minute maximum, but Illumi is still watching with a heavy, piercing gaze, feeling the same odd, sickly feeling rise up from his chest.
He’s already decided that if the man moves to lay even a finger on you he’ll emerge from the shadows, swiftly and triumphantly piercing his chest with his entire hand.
Maybe that’ll get him to stop talking.
But the man doesn’t, and so Illumi begrudgingly lets the conversation run its course. You eventually say goodbye to the man and ask him if he’d like to meet up at the same booth in a week to compare the types of fruit.
Immediately Illumi’s fist clenches, his nails sharpening and digging into his palms, drops of blood littering the pavement below him as his eyes never stray, keeping trained on you as you walk in the opposite direction of the man, who is now blushing and smiling like a fool.
Disgusting, Illumi thinks as he follows the man.
The world won’t miss him, is all he’s thinking as he pulls a pin and flicks his wrist, the needle sinking into his neck. He watches with a dull gaze as the fast acting poison renders the man immobile, falling to his knees as his chest slows its breaths, eventually no longer moving.
You most certainly won’t, he thinks as he picks up the body, unsheathing the needle after life has left the body, finding a nearby trash bin to stuff the man into.
It isn’t the most efficient method of dealing with a body, but Illumi can’t be bothered – after all, in the some thirty seconds it’s taken him to deal with the man who thought he had a chance with what Illumi has already claimed as his, you’ve managed to make it a bit further from him, wandering through the maze of stalls with the bag full of produce in your hands.
He’s immediately falling into step behind you, the flexing of his fingers doing nothing to distract him as he brings back his stare, internally sighing as he sees another man – this time blond – look over at you and not so subtly rake his eyes up and down your body.
Illumi’s brow twitches – he only brought twenty needles this morning, and you’ve only been at the market for some fifteen minutes. Already he only has three left, and with a small sigh he reminds himself to bring more tomorrow, as he’ll surely use them.
And really, while Illumi doesn’t enjoy that other men are looking at you, being deluded enough to believe that they have a chance with you, he needs to make sure that there are no complications with your union, that there will be no problems to take care of when he eventually whirls you away to his home, where you’ll be his lovely wife that provides him with children and a warmth he can’t explain.
There’s a certain thrill that comes with letting himself feel, with not pushing down the emotion as his father said – a certain thrill that he can only feel where you’re concerned.
After all, you’re just that special.
TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:
From the moment Illumi decides that you’re a good match for him, it becomes a known fact (at least, among his family) that you would eventually be living alongside him in the Zoldyck manor.
You don’t have a choice, really – all of his family lives together on the mountain, and you will be no exception, despite your temporary status as an honorary member.
(This status is temporary if only because now you aren’t an official Zoldyck, but the moment you become pregnant with his child, this status changes – you’re a real Zoldyck then, because inside you grows the family’s next assassin, a product of Illumi’s devotion to you and proof of your resolve to commit yourself to the Zoldycks. It’s all terribly romantic to Illumi, even if it makes you want to hurl, and he’ll have no qualms telling you this information – he’ll even frame it as if it’s some sort of incentive to get you eagerly spreading your legs for him. He treats it like you want to be accepted into the family – like it’s your deepest desire, and no amount of arguing or pleading with him will convince him otherwise.)
You will be sharing a bed with him, living under the same roof and spending all your time beside him when he’s not away for a job, whether you like it or not, and Illumi has known this from the very beginning. You’ll be curled up in his arms, his skin cold and slightly clammy as he holds you, his grip much too tight and stiff even as he sleeps – you can hardly move, every breath you take feeling constricted and controlled, as if Illumi is doing you a favor by allowing you just a bit of space to breathe.
It takes him a while to fully develop and understand what his feelings mean, but once he does he isn’t holding back in any form - his family was, for lack of a better word, floored the night that their eldest son casually mentioned having selected his future wife. Kikyo was immediately pressing him for details, wanting to know every fact and scrap of information about her future daughter in law, which Illumi was happy to provide.
He immediately spouted off your name, age, basic personality, physical features, hobbies, interests, important life events, past and current jobs, relationships with your parents, friends, partners, anything and everything he can think of, Kikyo listening all the while with a scowl on her face. She’s confused on why her precious son has chosen you, considering you weren’t a skilled nen user, a fighter or even someone of great importance.
She’s not completely convinced of her son’s choice, but there’s a strange determination to Illumi’s normally lifeless eyes that she can see that makes her back off a bit, leaving her with an odd sense of finality in his words, confidence in his decision that makes it hard to argue.
(Besides, everyone knows Killua is the true heir of the family – as long as Illumi produces members to join the Zoldyck ranks, it’s not so important who chooses to wed. As long as they’re suitable for conception, she’ll begrudgingly accept – perhaps not with enthusiasm, but she’ll relent nonetheless.)
Silva is listening as well, though not as intensely as his wife, and after Illumi finishes his some twenty minute recall of your information, he merely takes a sip of his drink and nods, telling his son to treat her with care, she sounds weak in comparison to you.
Milluki is rolling his eyes, wondering why his brother decided on someone so normal, though he doesn’t dare say anything. Internally, though, he’s already imagining what you look like, his mental picture of you built upon Illumi’s descriptions, but with just a bit more detail – things his brother hadn’t mentioned, like the size of your chest or if you’re clumsy or if your voice is high and feminine and whiny.
Kalluto only nods, wondering what you’ll be like in person if you’ve managed to catch his older brother’s eye.
His mother is still disappointed in his choice, but wastes no time helping Illumi prepare for your eventual arrival, helping him create a regiment for how to integrate you into the family, how to work with your needs, considering your status as a mere commoner.
And while Illumi lets his mother plan and schedule and bustle about, he’s merely thinking of how he should take you away, tuning out his mother’s shrill words as she yells and commands butlers, telling them to prepare and clean and do everything so that Illumi’s new wife will be received well.
In all reality, Illumi – while very much concerned with his family’s acceptance of you, considering the tightness and loyalty instilled into him – isn’t especially concerned about the plans his mother is running wild preparing. He knows that with enough time and training, you’ll eventually fit right into the mold his mother wants you to, or at least as far into it as Illumi is allowing.
Because really, while he agrees that you need to be toughened up at least a little bit in order to survive in the mansion and be strong enough to bear his children, he doesn’t want your core personality to change – he fell in love with you for a reason, and while you must be trained a bit to survive as a Zoldyck, he doesn’t want you to become a stranger.
And so instead of listening to his mother’s plans, he’s slipping out under the cover of nightfall and climbing through the familiar window of your bedroom, your sleeping form laying so still and peaceful, like you’re just waiting for him to come steal you away.
A pin (as much as he hates piercing your skin with the needle, it must be done) is applied to your shoulder and your sleep is suddenly much heavier, your body visibly going limp, your breaths getting longer and deeper, and for a moment he worries that he’s infused too much nen into the needle, that your breathing will just keep slowing until it eventually stops.
His grip against his spare needles tightens at the thought, the force so strong that it snaps the metal in half, the sound knocking him from his thoughts as he blinks down at you, a small sense of relief filling him because your chest is still steadily rising and falling.
Illumi carries you in his arms back to the manor, not minding the weight of your body holding him down.
And just as he passes through the gates, he feels what he thinks might be excitement brewing in his chest.
Life with Illumi will be, in all honesty, hell.
It’s not so much that he enjoys making you miserable or seeing you uncomfortable, but rather that he’s grown up with such intense expectations, such strict regimes and schedules that he upholds you to similar standards.
Of course, you won’t be going through training to become an assassin while you’re with him – no practice with combat or anything so violent, if only because Illumi’s worry over your safety prohibits him from allowing you anywhere near a knife or a fist cocked and ready to be swung.
(Not to mention the fact that he plans on you going absolutely nowhere without him, and as such there’s no reason for you to learn how to defend yourself. You don’t need to build up immunity to poison, how to most effectively snap a neck, or to learn any number of the cruel things that he thinks are much too unwomanly for someone like you.)
No, the schedule and timetables he puts you on are much more general, humiliating, dehumanizing – being told when you can and can’t use the restroom is something you’ll quickly come to realize takes away even the barest scrap of dignity and independence you have left under Illumi’s control.
He dictates what time you wake up, what you eat for each meal of the day, and your activities between meals - comprised mostly of more feminine things, as his mother advised you learn, like sewing and mending, floral arrangement, proper dining etiquette, and of course, lessons on how to properly raise children, taught by Kikyo herself.
(From the get go, it will be extremely apparent to you that the entirety of the Zoldyck family – Illumi included – expect offspring, assuming with little thought that you’ll be bearing the eldest son’s children in what Silva has expressed as sooner than you think with a small nod and poignant stare. Shivers had run down your spine at the way Illumi’s gaze on you seemed to only grow in intensity at his father’s comment, his cold fingers pressing against the small of your back in a way that made your skin crawl. Besides, the built in conception time, as Illumi so lovingly puts it, makes it more than obvious that he’s fucking you with the intent of getting you pregnant.)
It’s demeaning, the way you’re treated like some toddler, some incompetent idiot with the way Kikyo flutters around you, her shrill voice echoing through the corridors as you cower and obey.
It isn’t that you want to be obedient to a family you’ve come to realize is beyond fucked up, but you’ve also seen Illumi at work. He’s come home to you covered in blood, giving you a small smile as he awkwardly leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips, his dark eyes staying open the whole time.
You don’t particularly want to be the submissive, obedient future mother of Illumi’s children like everyone in the manor is expecting you to be (with the exception of Killua, whom Illumi desperately wants you to get along with, and he may honestly be the only ray of light within this dark, musty home – at least he somewhat understands how fucked up the situation is, though he’s told you many times that there’s nothing he can do to help you).
But the constant threat of the fact that anyone in the house could kill you with a simple flick of the wrist is not lost on you, and while Illumi genuinely terrifies you for much of the first few months of your captivity, you quickly learn to obey his every word, to live to please him.
He’s really the only ally you have – he’s more forgiving, easier to try and wiggle your way out of a less severe punishment with, especially as you learn to predict his wishes.
He wants you to wear a certain kimono that he thinks looks beautiful on you? You hate the pattern on it and the way the style makes your figure look, but you scramble to slide into the fabric, trying to ignore his ever present stare boring into your naked body.
He wants you to come play with his hair, because he’s been told by his father that it feels nice and he’s seen couples do it? immediately you’re clambering to sit on the chair behind his seated position on the floor, running your fingers through his dark locks while he sits stick straight, silence enveloping the two of you.
He wants you to lay beside him while he rests, recovering his energy from a recent mission? You’re already slipping underneath the sheets, clearing a space for him and letting him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against him.
(He’s so stiff even when he ‘cuddles’ you – his skin is so cold, his back straight, his grip on you tight enough to make you squirm, and the hot breath against your neck when he tells you that he’s missed you, my dear, my day is less bright without your presence will make you wince.)
Some of his wishes are, admittedly, much more difficult to obey than others, however – when he tells you to lay back and spread your legs while he’s shimmying off his pants, it’s difficult to not fight, to not cry and scream as he pushes into you, his eyebrows twitching together and his pale fists clenching by your head as he slowly begins humping into you.
He isn’t necessarily bad to you per se, though quickly his family picks up on his cluelessness on how to truly treat a spouse, and so after a few comments from Silva about how to properly woo you (maybe she will be less unruly, and you may have more luck producing children this way as well) he actually does take his advice and try to make at least some attempt at romancing you.
He’s telling you robotically delivered compliments, buying you bouquets of roses, even rewarding your good behavior with small knick knacks from your old apartment and life – but it’s not enough; the fear of him is still far greater than the almost charming awkwardness he exudes in moments of intimacy and tenderness will ever be.
You’ll essentially become a submissive, sweet little housewife under Illumi’s care, and even if you hate it, even if you try with everything you have to not be subjected to the future of bearing his children, holding the famous last name of Zoldyck, and being completely subservient to the man who kidnapped you and forcefully began a ‘relationship’ with you, Illumi and the rest of his family have ways of making sure you stay in line.
And before long, you’ll grow to accept your place, to realize that there is absolutely nothing you can do.
PUNISHMENTS:
In all honesty, Illumi rarely gets actually mad at you – he’s much more frequently disappointed when you don’t behave correctly, when you fight him or make some weak attempt at escaping.
He doesn’t get mad, but there is this small sense of pity that he feels when he watches you cry and beg him to not come any closer, to please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone what happened! Please, I don’t want to be with you or your sick family!
It hurts, if he’s being honest, but he knows that in order to train you, to mold you into the perfect spouse and future mother of his children, he needs to be patient.
Dogs can’t be expected to follow commands from the very beginning, right?
And so, when he kneels down to where you’re curled up in the corner of your shared room, his dark hair hanging around you like a curtain while his wide eyes never blink and stay situated on you, he’s merely tilting his head and asking in a voice much too serious to be natural, oh but darling, can’t you see you’re already part of this family? Now, dinner is to be ready in thirty minutes. I need to properly prepare you.
He actually has a surprising amount of patience with you – you make him soft (or at least as soft as he can be, though anyone that knows him well can spot the differences in his treatment and air around you), and he doesn’t really want to harm you or scare you.
It’s a necessary evil in his eyes, though if he had his way, he’d train you to the point where you’re willingly looking at him with love.
He’d train you until you’re welcoming him home with a sweet kiss to his cheek after a long job with a toddler clutching at your legs, a baby suckling at your breast and a swollen belly telling him and the rest of the world exactly who you belong to, your lovesick cry of his name when you see him making the smile plastered onto his lips that much more genuine.
You make him feel, something so foreign and strange, and to Illumi this new, small amount of emotion feels downright overwhelming, something so strong and powerful and wonderful. It’s addicting, truly, something that he finds himself actively wanting, a concept he’s never felt before towards anything except bringing back Killua.
And so while he doesn’t particularly enjoy punishing you, it’s worth it to keep those feelings alive, to build up to the point where his fantasies of your domestic future with one another come to fruition.
So really, while he doesn’t get mad at you very often, he won’t hesitate to dole out punishments where he sees fit – it’s all for a greater purpose, he tells you, though you have your doubts.
Besides, there’s something even more disturbing about him punishing you when he isn’t even angry – it’s worse because it all just seems so pointless; maybe if he was yelling you would understand why he’s doing what he’s doing. He’d seem human, maybe, capable of emotion – instead, you get those familiar, dead eyes staring at you, his expression carefully neutral as he tells you that this is for your own sake, my dear, and one day you’ll see that.
When it comes to actually punishing you, Illumi’s aversion to causing you any sort of physical harm prevents him from inflicting a whole varietyof punishments onto you – he doesn’t want to taint your delicate skin, to break a bone, to do any number of things that he’s been told over and over by his family would help.
(Milluki insists that breaking both of your legs would be a good way to prevent any kind of behavior targeted around trying to escape, and while Illumi understands the logic and even agrees with it, the look of your teary eyes staring up at him and your desperate pleads to not hurt you are simply too much.)
(Milluki also suggests, with a crude grin and a gulp, that perhaps letting him try a hand at getting you to cooperate would be helpful – besides, he’ll add with a smarmy smile and his tongue flicking out over his lips, a Zoldyck heir is a Zoldyck heir, doesn’t matter who knocked her up, right? That night, Milluki ended up with the broken bone rather than you.)
He isn’t sure why he’s so incapable of hurting you considering his profession, but he just can’t – and so, he finds other methods.
Namely, your mental state is completely fair game; he’s training you after all, and when the basement of the Zoldyck mansion is just so expansive, so cold and wet and so very dark, how can he not use that to his advantage?
Your eyes are casted downwards, your voice soft and unsure as you ask if you can see my family again? Kikyo mentioned that it’s December, and there’s an important birthday in the family this month that I’d like to celebrate with them…
Illumi had been cuddling you (or, at least holding you in his arms while he lay on his side, completely frozen and inhaling the scent of your hair again and again while you uncomfortably squirmed around), but the moment those words tumble from your lips, he’s blinking pensively, pondering your statement.
I don’t know of any birthdays in the family this month.
When you try again, telling him that it’s your family you’re talking about, the one you were raised in and that you love, immediately he’s cutting you off.
My dear, you must be mistaken. The nearest birthday is Grandfather’s, and that isn’t for another month.
His voice is firmer this time, as if he’s trying to tell you something, but some part of you refuses to silently accept his blatant dismissal of your request.
Illumi you don’t understand, it’s –
his grip is tightening even more, practically suffocating you as his nails dig into your exposed arms, his voice somewhere between a hiss and a scold.
No, my love, you don’t understand. Don’t speak of them. They are no longer your family – you are a Zoldyck now, and you’ll forget all of those past imposters. You will not, under any circumstances, be allowed to see them again. Now, come with me.
And it’s not like you have much of a choice – as he picks you up and brings you down the stairs, endless winding hallways that steadily grow colder and colder the deeper you head, you’re flailing, apologizing profusely, anything to not have to spend another few nights in the basement.
And while Illumi doesn’t enjoy the tears that stream down your cheeks, he stays strong and ties you to the chains connected to the walls – loose enough that you can be seated on the ground, but tight enough to restrict any movement.
Once you’re stationary, he stands before you and stares, the light from the door behind him illuminating his figure.
I expect you to tell me who your real family is when I return.
And with that, he’s walking out the room and slamming the door shut behind him, leaving you shrouded in darkness, with nothing but the sound of your own breathing and heartbeat to entertain you.
He generally leaves you down there for three days, give or take – enough to have you dehydrated, your stomach growling and rumbling painfully at the lack of food, cold seeping into your bones and leaving you shivering and shaking, all the while fear envelopes you because there’s something here with you, you just know it.
The sounds coming from the corner of the room are too difficult to ignore, though you have no idea what it could be. You presume it’s some sort of creature, designed to kill you if Illumi so desires, the scuttling noise making fear creep up your spine every time you hear it. The sounds are ryhtmic, predictable, always going off in roughly thirty minute intervals, leading you to believe the creature is smart, or at least trained to be so.
It’s terrifying and your mind will conjure up images of terrifying, grotesque beasts in its bored and fearful state, but in reality the monster in question is Illumi himself – he grows so dependent on you that he can’t be away from you for more than about a day, so he treats himself to hiding in the shadows and simply watching you.
You’re very pretty, even when you’re crying and covered in dirt and covered in your own piss, and it’s in those moments that Illumi truly realizes how deeply his feelings for you run, how badly he wants you to be his everything. He just can’t stop looking at you, those dark eyes raking over your figure over and over and over, moving his position roughly every thirty minutes to get a new angle of you.
(Though, it’s not like he needs to see you to remember what you look like from this angle, he’s stalked you so thoroughly and so heavily that he could draw your face in his sleep with pinpoint accuracy, your features metaphorically carved behind his eyelids so that he’ll always see you you you when he blinks.)
And when he eventually opens the door once more, light cracking into the room and making you violently blink, he’s asking if you’ve learned your lesson yet, if you’re finally understanding who your real family is, and immediately you’re practically yelling that yes, I understand! I’m a Zoldyck, the Zoldycks are my real family! I love them and I love you, Illumi, because I’m your wife and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be!
(If you were in a better state of mind you’d have the energy to be ashamed of yourself, but you’re so desperate to get out of this cellar and into the warmth, to drink something and eat something and be away from the thing trapped in there with you that you just don’t care.)
He nods, satisfied, and opens the locks, only to blink in surprise when you wobbly embrace him, sobbing into his chest and clutching onto his clothes because even though he’s unnaturally cold, he’s still warmer than the hell you’ve been in for the last three days.
And while he’s not the best at physical affection, he’ll wrap his arms around you and pull you tighter, crushing you against his hard chest whispering in your ear that he’s so glad you’ve finally accepted your place.
OVERALL DANGER:
9/10
The danger that lies with being Illumi’s darling is honestly just the fact that once he chooses you, there is absolutely no chance of escaping him.
He’s a trained assassin with connections everywhere; outside of death itself, there’s no way for you to get away from him, no matter how hard you try or who you manage to recruit into aiding you.
(And even if you were to somehow manage to kill yourself, Illumi will keep your dead body by his side – holding it at night while he sleeps, propping you in a chair across from him while he eats and carries on a one sided conversation about work that day, even going so far as to fuck your cold, lifeless body just to feel you.)
He’s lived his whole life feeling nothing at all, and the second that you inspire any bit of emotion within him, his whole perspective seems to alter just slightly, something warm and strange and good blooming in his chest. It’s something completely foreign, but the longer it goes on the more he decides the likes it, growing used to the feeling and craving more of it, finding himself yearning – yes, yearning – to feel it once more when he’s been away from you for long periods of time.
Once he realizes that the common cause of this feeling is you, Illumi is deciding that you’re the one he’ll be adding to the Zoldyck family as his partner, his spouse, his lover.
You’ll be the one to bear his children and continue on the name, all while he gets to enjoy the strange warmth in his chest, the odd protectiveness that forces him to keep you locked up, safe from the outside world, the strange urge he feels to reach out and touch you, to see you smile, to feel your lips against his own.
And so while he won’t ever directly physically harm you, your mental state will be destroyed, and you’ll be in constant fear that someday he’ll decide you aren’t worth the trouble, that once he impregnates you and you give him a few heirs, he’ll kill you off effortlessly.
These fears will never, ever see fruition of course, but the trouble with Illumi is that you just never know.
He’s skilled in the art of killing, but his skills in lying are quite formidable as well – you can never truly tell when he’s being honest with you, and while he’s never fully lied to you (only misrepresented facts and led you to believe something that may not be entirely true), you’ll live in a constant state of unease because you’re so, so very aware that he could kill you with a mere flick of his wrist if he so desired, and what’s stopping him? He claims to be in love, but in what world is this love?
And you, lucky lucky you, get the lovely package deal of not only him, but his fucked up family as well – so good luck, and really, just let him mold you into the perfect, obedient little wife he wants you to be.
Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately.
Now onto the smut :)
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
His hands caressed the bare skin of your back under your shirt, light fluttery touches that heated every inch of skin he stroked.
The male's face was hidden in between your breast, his pupilless optics closed as he breathed soundly. Your scent filled his nose, a scent that reminded him of the ocean breeze.
Like a splash of orange bergamot mixed with woody base notes, a freshness that was like a relaxing fragrance.
He could breathe that scent every day if he could. The smell of his wife, the only human - other than his younger brother Killua - that he dare ever 'exhibit' the emotion of love.
Your hands diligently ran through his sleek midnight black locks, never encountering a tangle or knot. Perfect silky hair, that you couldn't help but be jealous of a few times.
Tenderly you kissed his cold pale forehead, a contrast to your warm lips that radiated heat. It was an intimate moment, something Illumi wasn't used to executing but was gradually becoming accustomed to it.
Slowly the eldest Zoldyck son raised his head and indolently opened his orbs to gaze up at your face. You glanced down at him and smiled soothingly, continuing to run your hands through his hair.
His hand that ran up and down your spine intimately halted for a moment, his cold fingertips lingering on your skin.
"(Y/n)." He called your name in a quiet tone, you could feel the vibration of his speech against your stomach.
"Yes?" You answered him in a palliative manner on that quiet night.
"I really do care about you."
Your hands ceased their movement in his hair, your breath becoming caught in your throat for a second before you laughed gently.
"Oh, Illumi." You cooed and enclosed your arms around his head, pressing his face back into your chest. "I love you too."
The brunet found himself rolling his jade black optics before closing them again and continuing his tender strokes on your spine.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
A heavy sigh echoed from your lips. The memory of your intimate moment with your husband when you were freshly married danced across your vision like an old film.
Or more like a childhood movie that gave you a sense of nostalgia watching it years later. Gradually closing the child book in your hand, you gazed down at your son's sleeping face.
The frown on your lips twitched into a small smile that quickly fell asunder when you thought about the memory again.
Xenon's tranquil expression had you carefully relocate a lock of his midnight black hair out of his face. The six-year-old was a spitting image of his father and only really displayed your skin color.
His hair was lengthy, refusing to cut it so it was similar to his father. The same black pupilless optics retained a better vision than an ordinary individual.
When the boy grows up he'll look like a copy, taking almost all of the Zoldyck genes. You huffed quietly at the thought but leaned forward to place a tender kiss on his warm forehead.
"Goodnight, Xenon." You whispered silently and withdrew from his lavish bedroom. Quietly closing his door your attention trained down the hall at Illumi's office.
It has been a while since you've spoken to your husband, ages since you've held a decent conversion. He was either too occupied with work or out on an assigned mission.
You sighed wearily, your stomach abruptly feeling heavy as you ambled closer to his office. Knocking on it with the back of your fist, there was no response.
Behind the door, you could hear the sound of paper shuffling and the pressing of keys on a keyboard. You knocked louder, regarding a slight strain in your knuckles now.
This time you received a response.
"What is it, (Y/n)?"
You turned the diamond handle and peered inside the dim office. Your husband sat in his chair at his desk, his long nimble fingers aggressively typing away at something.
Stacks of paper decorated his table and the bowl of soup you gave him this morning was still uneaten. You frowned at the sight. It had been more than twelve hours since eleven o'clock am when you first handed him the dish.
He didn't even touch it. And you knew he hadn't left his office all day which meant that he was skipping meals.
"Illumi, my husband, why haven't you touched the soup?" You questioned him, fully stepping into the room and closing the door behind you.
The male simply hummed in response and shifted his gaze to a packet next to his laptop. Biting the inside of your cheek you strode forward and stood in front of his metal desk.
"Illumi, it's not good to skip meals just because you are busy. I know you can last days without eating but while you are home...I would appreciate it if you wouldn't underfeed yourself like this."
Your husband's tapping came to a halt, his pupilless orbs glancing up at your face for only a second before returning to his screen.
You took that as his response to your sentence and sighed profoundly. Striding around his table you paused behind him and lightly settled your hands on his broad shoulders.
"Illumi, it's late and I'm going to be retiring for bed. Will you...perhaps be joining me tonight? I would really appreciate it." You articulated with a hopeful expression displaying on your face.
For some time you've been sleeping alone at night, retreating to bed first with Illumi joining you much later only to wake first and leave you alone in the morning.
It had been like that for a long time and only once In a blue moon would he ever leave the safety of his desk to join you in bed.
You couldn't help but feel distraught by his actions but you knew Illumi was different than the normal person. He saw most things as useless and demeaning, a waste of time or bothersome.
But when he did care or attempt to ever show any emotion other than aloof or stoic, he was at least trying. It was the effort that counted and that's what really drew you into your husband.
You understood him unusually well, complimenting his lack of interest with your enthusiastic attitude. And your ability to always look for even the most minute details allowed for you to see the tiny smiles he may display or the small gestures he would do for you.
He was like dark rain clouds rolling in on a sunny day. Most wouldn't enjoy it for it being as if he was ruining a once bright day that held warm air and cool wind.
But to you, you didn't see him as such a misfortune. Yes, the glow of the sun might be gone now, but the soothing sound of rain pelting your roof was cathartic.
And the cool wind was palliative as you were able to bundle yourself in blankets and cozy up to the fireplace.
You found more positives in Illumi than negatives; a man that was just different than the rest but it did not mean he didn't deserve the same amount of love.
Even if he were busy every night, engrossed in his work or possibly being entertained by someone other than you, you still wouldn't love him any less.
Your love for your husband runs deep like the ocean and never strays from its origin. You don't want to lose the man who you believed was your only love, so you avoided speaking about any of your fears that might make him snap.
Or conveying confrontations that he would just ignore or propose to speak about on another day for he was too busy. You don't think your heart could handle such a thing if it were to transpire.
So you would just stay the perfect compliant wife for your husband.
There was no response for a moment before the male flipped the page in his document, "No, I have too much to do tonight. You shouldn't stay up waiting for me and compromise your health."
The smile instantly sank from your lips and your shoulders deflated. You could feel your throat tightening for a second as tears glazed over your (e/c) optics.
A sob was stuck in your throat, unable to echo out into the room. Attempting to sniffle quietly, you released his shoulders and shuffled back.
"A-Are you sure?" You sought, your voice growing weaker at the end.
He barely even nodded his head in acknowledgment. Heavy tears escaped your bottom lids and cascaded down your (s/c) hued cheeks.
For once you were glad Illumi wasn't looking at you. You would find it embarrassing if he noticed you weeping over a silly little thing.
He wouldn't fathom why the tears ran like a river from his rejection. And you knew he wouldn't do what you wanted because he just didn't understand.
A deep exhalation rang from beneath your lungs as you wiped the tears off your face and stepped toward his office door. Quietly you opened it, turning back slightly to get one more glance of your handsome husband before bedtime.
"Good night, Illumi. I love you, and please...get some rest."
Your husband's tapping halted and his gaze gradually rose to meet yours. His blank stare appeared rather longing for a moment with his lips twitching down into a frown.
Oh, that beautiful dark, jade black eyes of his always showed more emotion than his pale face ever would. You could see that emotion he refuses to admit he has surrendered to.
Or at least you think you can.
"Sleep well, (Y/n). Do not stay up late." He mumbled, tilting his head back slightly to smooth a knot in his neck.
His words made you smile scarcely, ambling back towards his desk. Your hands reached for his head and carefully - as if he was a newborn babe - held him securely.
You leaned down, your warm lips connecting with his cool forehead for a few seconds. Pulling back, you gave him a large closed-eyed smile.
"Ok." Your voice was barely above a whisper as you released his head and stepped out of his office, closing his door with shaky hands.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
It felt as if eyes were observing you, staring holes into your frame that had your skin ignite. It was as if ants were biting at your flesh, irritating it and stirring you awake from your slumber.
Gradually you opened your (e/c) orbs and pulled the blanket from over your head. When you turned your head to the empty space where Ilumi lay, you did not expect to see your six-year-old son sitting with his legs crossed.
His jade black pupilless optics stared down at you with an observing gaze, almost too serious for his young age.
"Xenon..." Your voice cracked as you gradually slid up and leaned against the headboard. "What are you doing, little one?"
The boy hummed at your question and flicked a strand of his long hair behind his head. "I just missed you." He replied, voice almost void of emotion like his father.
You puckered your lips and crossed your arms under your chest. "That's cute but I know there's more to it."
"Father requested that I spend more time with you."
The two of you didn't say anything as you just stared at each other with blank expressions. It was eerily quiet in your spacious bedroom, the only sound coming from the open door of your terrace.
Swiftly before your son could react, your grasped his arms and pulled him against your body. His already large eyes went wide, grunting slightly as he fell into your lap.
"M-Mother!" He hissed, but you simply squeezed his frame against your plumper one. "Stop it this instant!"
"No~." You hummed, embracing him closer and peppering his face with kisses.
Your son grunted and attempted to shimmy himself free but your grip was much tighter than he assumed. "Come on, let me go. Your breath stinks."
You stopped hugging him, freezing like a statue before hurling the boy in the air and letting him fall on the bouncy mattress.
Covering your mouth, you turned away and steered to your bathroom.
"YOU DON'T EMBARRASS YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT!" You yelled in the echoing room.
"WELL, WHY DON'T YOU BRUSH YOUR TEETH FIRST!?"
"WHAT DO YOU EXPECT WHEN YOU'RE RIGHT THERE WHEN I WAKE UP!?" Your voice was still loud through the closed door.
Xenon threw a pillow at your bathroom door and left a dent in the wooden barrier. "Just brush your teeth already."
You groaned from inside the bathroom and aggressively scrubbed at your teeth, vexed that your own six-year-old son called you out.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Staring at the closed book in your hand, you inhaled deeply and threw the thick object on the coffee table.
Air blew out of your nose like an animal as you began roaming aimlessly around the wing. For a while now you've been losing interest in things that used to give you joy.
It was hard to read, the exhilaration you used to feel in your chest reading a story no longer sparked within your heart and your attention now started to drift off the page.
You were angered that you couldn't read like you used to, and even more enraged at the fact that this lack of interest and focus was starting to gravitate towards your other hobbies and joys.
The days were rather quiet, lonesome as the span of time passed by. It felt as though the days were repeating, virtually the same every time.
However each day grew dimmer, your lack of interest soon being accompanied by your lack of self-care. You struggled to even leave your bed and take care of your body.
If it wasn't for Xenon who visited you early in the morning to awaken you and remind you to brush your teeth and eat, you would have never even done it for yourself.
Unfortunately, your dear soon would depart soon after for his lessons with his great-grandfather Zeno and grandfather Sylva, leaving you home alone in the wing.
It seemed as though you were seeing your husband less and less. The man left for longer assassinations and you couldn't help but feel as if he was intentionally disregarding you.
You were always someone that took on guilt, even if it was never your fault. You could have done nothing wrong and still feel as though you were the problem.
Blame it on your kind heart or blame it on your trauma, this was just how you were. A little too empathetic for the harsh world you lived in.
And you had to keep telling yourself the same things over and over again.
That's what you thought. That's what you told yourself. But you couldn't help it when those dark shadowy thoughts rained over your head and whispered its deceit in your ears.
Some days it felt as though they sat upon your chest, weighing down on you and refusing to let you up. Just sitting there, whispering like it always does.
Gossiping about the same things again and again.
This is all your fault. It's because you're ugly. It's because you can't satisfy him anymore. It's because you're boring. It's because he doesn't need you anymore.
It's because you stress him out. It's because you're nothing special. It's because you can't do anything right. It's because you're emotionally unstable. It's because you push him away with your neediness.
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.
"Ahh!"
You jumped in fright from the ringing noise that brought you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your heart still thumped audibly in your chest and you could feel the beads of sweat on the back of your neck.
Somewhere in the wing of the Zoldyck mansion, you were lost and paranoid. The surroundings to you are unfamiliar and foreign.
At the moment you were shaken up, you'll admit it and it was all from the shadow thoughts you tried to suppress.
With shaky hands, you grasped the (f/c) phone from the pocket of your apron and glanced down at the screen. A number you never expected to be calling was displayed across your cellular device.
Answering it, you called out in an uncertain tone. "H-Hello."
"(Y/n)~♥."
A breath you didn't know you were holding in was released. You laughed almost thankfully and scratched the top of your head.
"Hisoka, hey. I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you in so long. I've just...I've just been busy with family life. Taking care of Xenon...and Illumi."
The fuchsia-haired male hummed on the line. "I'll forgive you, for now~♠. Ignoring your oldest friend since childhood really puts a damper on my mood you know~♦."
A laugh reverberated from your mouth as you began retracing your steps and making your way back to your floor.
"Friendship? I think It was more of me using my nen to heal you every time I found you dying against my front door! Remember when you tried to kill me the first time!? We were only twelve years old, If I didn't have you sedated I would have been dead!"
It was silent for a moment before the two of you shared a laugh. A genuine laugh that had your mouth hurt from smiling.
"See, it all worked out in the end~♣!"
"You homicidal joker!" You snapped back in a playful manner before shaking your head. "Anyway, as much as I am thankful for your call, you wouldn't be contacting me for no reason."
One of your hands diligently grasped onto the railing as you carefully strolled up the swirling stairs.
"Ah, my little (Y/n), you are so smart~♥!"
"You are just flattering me, Hisoka. Now get to the point!"
"Fiesty girl~♦!" He hollered, laughing narrowly at his own words which caused you to roll your own eyes. "I'm going to be in town tomorrow and of course, I would like the chance to see my best friend~♠. We can go into the city do a little shopping, eat around, scout for strong competitors~♣!"
You laughed aloud, grasping the handle to your bedroom door and opening it with a little too much enthusiasm.
"Really!?" You sought, your voice rising and you could feel your eyes grow slightly wide. "I'm in for the shopping and food but please leave your odd lust for the strong out of it! I haven't been out of the mansion in years, let alone spoken with anyone else other than the Zoldyck Family!"
"I'm glad that you are excited but (Y/n), please don't leave the last part out~♥!"
"No! Remember what happened last time!?"
Before Hisoka could respond the voice of your son filled your room. "Mom, who are laughing with on the phone?" He inquired, only his head visible as he stuck it out from behind the wall.
"Hold up, it's Xenon." You placed your phone against your chest as if attempting the muffle any noise that could be heard. "It's just an old friend."
The boy pursed his lips, grumbling to himself slightly before revealing his full form. Unexpectedly, in a matter of seconds, Xenon was standing atop your bed, your phone in his hands as he hung up the call.
"What the- Xenon, what the hell!?"
You snatched the cellular device back from your child and crossed your arms under your chest. "That's rude of you, boy. Where are your manners?" You sought.
The midnight-haired boy let his legs give out so he could bounce on the mattress. His thigh-length hair sprawling around and his body and the bed.
"He sounded weird." He declared while gazing up at you with his pupilless optics. You opened your mouth to reply but the words were stuck in your throat.
'Damn, he's right though.' You thought. Awkwardly you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck while thinking about what to say.
"Well, Hisoka is a bit odd...but he has always taken care of me since we were children. Kind of like Killua and your relationship. Killua has babysat you multiple times and cared for you like a brother."
Your son jerked his head, his fingers playing through his hair while you took a seat next to him on the bed.
With the way the bed shook and how your son bounced on the mattress, heat rushed to your cheeks. Your fingers twitched from the mortification, you don't remember weighing so much enough to make such a huge reaction.
Xenon furrowed his brows at your face and frowned. "Mom?" He asked quietly.
"Oh, um!" A laugh reverberated from your lips. You placed a hand on the boy's head, feeling the texture of his hair under the tender skin of your palm. "It's nothing."
The boy observed you with attentive dark eyes. Your hand carefully migrated to his cheek where you began to caress his warm (s/c) skin. "I just love you so much, you know."
Slight, very slight color rose to his face as he dropped his gaze and puckered his lips. "I know." He murmured softly, letting you continue to rub his cheek intimately.
Another sigh left your lips, your chest feeling heavy once again until you remember your plans for the next day.
A chance to be out of this mansion, a chance to meet one of your oldest friends, a chance to not be bothered by the looming shadows that whispered like chaotic bugs when you were alone.
"Alright baby, it's almost time for dinner. I believe your grandmother wanted to eat with us today."
"That old hag?"
"Xenon! ...Make sure you don't call her that to her face."
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Removing the towel from over your torso, you dressed in your undergarments while humming to yourself.
Turning around you glanced at your reflection and you could feel your fingers clench. You swallowed thickly, stepping closer to the wall-length mirror.
A shaky breath left your lips, it's been a while since you've looked at your reflection. No, really looked at it.
Your breath was caught in your throat, your teeth biting into your shaky bottom lip. You were much different than what you used to look like.
You don't look as good as you used to when Illumi first fell in love with you.
With a feather-like touch, you trailed your fingers down your sides. You noted how much accentuated your curves are now.
Your waist dipped in while your hips protruded outwards. You had to stop wearing your tight-fitting clothes and opt for more stretchy garments or dresses.
Not only did your mid-section grow in size but so did your bottom and stomach. Your bottom was much rounder, thicker with cellulite and stretch marks scoring your skin.
The same could be said for your stomach. Plumper and soft it was around your mid-section. A prominent scar below the curve of your bellow from Xenon's birth.
Slowly you rose your arms up and shook them, observing as the skin around your biceps jiggled and so did your thighs.
You were much bigger than what you once were, and maybe that's why your relationship with your husband has turned sour.
Illumi may have always had a blunt tongue but when he fell in love with you, he learned how to hold back from what he would think to not hurt your feelings.
That's why he stayed away, that's why he didn't kiss you anymore, that's why he wouldn't touch you.
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦.
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦.
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦.
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦.
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦.
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦.
Your hands covered your face, your eyes wide as you struggled to breathe. It was compressing down on your lungs, clenching down on your throat.
As if you were hyperventilating, gasping, and wheezing while you fell to your knees. Curling into a fetal position, hiding.
It hurt, the way everything just throbbed. Your own thoughts made you ache with a pain that felt greater than a physical injury.
And then your phone rang.
The sudden sensation of your throat opening up and your lungs functioning again allowed you to breathe in the air you've been so desperate for.
Swallowing thickly it took you a few moments to collect yourself. Tears could be felt trailing down your face, trickling down your chin, and connecting with the skin of your chest.
It took a lot of energy to crawl yourself up onto your bed and grasp your phone that continued to ring. Answering it, your voice was much weaker than you intended.
"Hello."
"(Y/n)~♥. I'm almost to the Zoldyck estate, you better be ready for when I arive~♣!"
You let out a deep breath, wiping your face with the back of your hand while a weak laugh reverberated from your mouth.
"Ok, ok, I'm still getting ready so I'm going to hang up and finish dressing." The male hummed on the other line before hanging up and leaving you in silence once again.
You swallowed thickly, slowly lowering your phone and grasping for the lamp next to you on the bed. Once the cool metal touched the delicate skin of your palm, you snatched it and hurled it at the mirror.
Glass shattering echoed in the room, its shards connected with your marble flooring and dusting it with microscopic particles.
A little longer of just sitting in silence did you wait before you decided to get ready. It was around spring, warm with some cool wind so you decided on a periwinkle-hued maxi dress with thin straps around over your shoulders.
Lilia-white kimono dressed over your arms to conceal your upper torso as you slipped on a pair of open-toed wedges.
You didn't even want to look in the mirror again so you just blindly did your hair and make-up. There wasn't much you could do without seeing your reflection so you hoped you at least appeared decent.
A text buzzed on your phone, Hisoka was here at the front waiting for you.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
When you sped out from the Zoldyck estate, The fuchsia-haired male gradually turned to face you and you watched as his jaw slackened.
"It's been 5 years since you were married and you look even more stunning than you did in that wedding dress~♦."
You could feel your cheeks warm up and your eyes widening from his words. "Hisoka!" Thankfully as you dipped your head, the floppy straw hat hid your flattered expression.
The male grinned from your reaction and came close, hugging your frame tight against his body. You could hear him inhale deeply, the scent of your perfume was rather strong today.
"You smell absolute divine, (Y/n). I could just eat you up~♥."
Biting your lip, you returned his hug tightly. It's been too long since you've had any physical contact with anyone that wasn't family, especially another male.
You've forgotten what it felt like. A hug, the feeling of someone's arms around you. Holding you tightly, pressing your face into their chest while their chin pressed atop your head.
The smell of a man, the fragrance of their strong cologne, the scent of their strength. You have really missed it all.
Gradually you softened into his embrace, holding back tears that wanted to flow like a rapid current.
"Hisoka..." His name came out of your mouth like a whisper that was muffled by his chest. "Hasn't anyone told you not to flirt with a married woman?"
Your long-time friend since childhood laughed aloud, you could feel the rumble of his speech against his chest on your own.
"How could I not~♣?" He asked, one of his hands caressing the base of your neck. "When the most beautiful woman in the world stands before me~♠."
His words made your heart skip a beat, the blood flowing rapidly through your veins like a flurry. How long has it been since you've received a compliment? How long has it been since you've felt good about yourself?
Any more of this and you just might fall in love with the fuchsia-haired Joker...
No, that could never happen. You loved Illumi with all your heart, with every fiber of your being. You're just feeling like this because you haven't had any male attention in years.
"Do not forget that I am married to Illumi." You reminded him, maybe even reminding yourself.
With slow careful motions, Hisoka pulled back while sticking out his long tongue. "As if a ring on your finger could ever stop me from getting what I wanted~♥. Don't you also think it is a bit more exciting when you have to sneak around~♦?"
You had to pull yourself away to hide the flattered expression on your face and remove yourself from his entrapping embrace. "Hisoka, please. You are too much, I swear." You told him lightly.
The joker just hummed playfully, a dazzling smile displaying across his porcelain-hued skin. "Just making up for lost time~♠!"
Shaking your head lightly, you gripped onto the straps of your purse and tilted your head down the road. "Come on; I'd like to make it into town before lunchtime."
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Your body felt heavy, striding into the kitchen and setting the treats from your afternoon getaway on the counter. The high of being out and laughing nearly every minute was starting to diminish and the reality of your home set in.
It was back to mundane quietness and lonely nights. But it should be alright; Xenon's messages of missing you were a pleasant reminder of your loving family.
The first thing you did was step into the hallway and reach for your husband's office. You knocked on it audibly, waiting for a response but you heard no noise from inside.
You quirked a brow, twisting the diamond handle and meeting absolute darkness. His lamp was turned off and from the light peering in from the hallway, you could see that his laptop was closed and even his packets were put away in his cabinets.
Confusion rang in your head, your husband had no mission today and if he did Kykyo usually messaged you so you would know.
Cautiously you shut the door and neared your son's room. He slept peacefully in his bed, his long hair sprawled out behind his head as he breathed rhythmically.
You attempted to make your footsteps as light as possible to reach his sleeping frame, and kiss his forehead tenderly.
Next time the both of you should go out into the city and spend some time together. If you asked nice enough Sylva should give the boy a day off of training.
He was rather fond of you, the whole Zoldyck family was. They appreciated your effort in taking care of Illumi and even spending your time assisting the family members in anything they needed.
You nodded your head, agreeing with the thought, and decided you would ask your father-in-law tomorrow.
Leaving your son to resume his tranquil slumber, your footsteps grew slower as you reached the other end of the hall and stopped at your bedroom door.
When you opened it, the sight of your husband sleeping on your shared bed was not something you expected.
The comforter piled at his hips, his bare toned chest glowing from the moonlight that streamed in. Even his hair glistened, sprawled behind his head just as Xenons were.
Illumi's appearance would have been genuinely relished in if it were not for your grim thoughts coming forward.
Every day you waited for him to join you in bed and he rarely ever did. When he would, it was never long enough for you to realize he was even there.
You pleaded and begged for your husband to leave to comforts of his office but all your work was always fruitless. And the day you go out to spend time with a friend is the day he finally rests in your room.
Fury spewed through your veins, skin ignited in vexation that you had to breathe deeply to settle. As much as you were enranged, you didn't want to disrupt his slumber.
He rarely slept, much less let down his barrier and relax. He needed his sleep and you needed to calm down.
With faint careful steps, you entered the connected bathroom and shed yourself of your clothes. You needed a shower from your long day out and hopefully, it could help you unwind.
Steam wafted into the room, the mirror becoming misty and fogged as you stepped into the shower. The firm beating of water striking your skin was relaxing, almost massaging your tense muscles.
Creeping down you set yourself on the floor of the bathtub, pulling your legs to your chest and shielding your face in the space of your knees.
You were relaxing alright but a little too much. Instead of fuming with rage, you were wallowing in self-pity. The weight of the circumstances, all your heavy thoughts just displaying past your eyes was hard to bear.
It's been a while since you've cried, it felt like admitting weakness and doubt that lingered in your heart. But at the moment you wanted nothing more to release that tight throbbing sensation in the back of your throat.
You tried to keep your cries quiet, silent almost to not wake your husband but that was harder said than done.
It was more difficult to hold back those vicious wails than it was to just to let it all out. Despite that you did it, Illumi's sleep meant more than the pain coursing through every possible vein on your body.
You loved him maybe more than you loved yourself.
...
After releasing your inner anguish and finishing up with your shower, you concealed your naked frame under a warm towel and entered the bedroom silently.
Your footsteps were near impossible to hear as you inched to your dresser and slowly opened the drawer.
Changing into your undergarments you reached for an oversized white shirt only for that wrist to get snatched and your back to collide against the walls.
A scream wanted to resonate from your parted lips but the hand around your throat ceased any cries for help.
Fear, something you hadn't felt in so long crept up your spine, and just like earlier in the shower, you released your fury with a set of tears that dribbled down your warm cheeks.
"(Y/n)."
Your head flung up, barely making out your husband's face in the complete darkness. You could hear him lean down and feel his warm breath against the shell of your ear.
"I don't appreciate you having fun with my acquaintance without my knowledge."
(e/c) optics widened at his words, your heart thumping in your ear as his other hand reached for the front of your towel.
"I don't like feeling jealous and right now, you're making me feel very, very jealous."
Gazing into the deep dark voids of his pupilless orbs you swallowed strenuously. "Illumi, my husband you can't be upset that I spent one day to me with someone I knew way longer than you." The words were hushed, well thought as you attempted to deescalate the situation. "I even texted you about my plans and all you said was, 'cool enjoy', it was obvious you didn't even look at it carefully."
The man was noiseless for a moment and that stillness made sweat ooze out of the skin on the back of your neck. It was haunting how he said nothing, expressed nothing and the gloaming was no help.
It wasn't until his hands migrated to your wrist, pinning them by your head on the wall did you feel the wrath of his ren encasing your body.
He was mad, he was angry...and he had no right to be.
Slipping one of your wrists free thanks to it being soft from lotion, you didn't even register your own hand swiping across his face and reddening his skin.
At the moment both of you appeared shocked, your husband's eyes widened more than usual and your own lips agape.
You would have apologized, taken back your actions but you realized that now is going to be the only time to communicate with your husband when you had his attention for the first time in forever.
"You are the one that is constantly busy, ignoring everything and anybody that wasn't your work." You snapped, unveiling your voice with every word.
"You are the one that neglects me! You act as if I'm a servant and even then I'm barely even a speck of dust that you acknowledge!"
Ripping your other wrist free from his hold you grasped your towel firmly by the front and tightened it across your body.
"You're mad that I went out once with a friend when every time I ask you to go out you either ignore me or give me excuses! As if I'm a bother that you can't wait to get rid of! And now that I enjoyed myself with someone else you suddenly want to give me your unwavering attention!?"
Your limbs were shaking from your unreleased fury, your (e/c)'s seething with rage as once again your hand flew down across his face and he let it connect.
The sound of skin-on-skin contact was vociferous but not as loud as your voice which was strained with distress and annoyance.
"You just don't want to let something that's part of your possession go to somebody else, even if you're not even attracted to them anymore!" You could sense that sting in the corner of your eyes, your vision that was already barely visible obfuscating. "I know I'm not the same anymore! I know that I've gained weight! I know I'm not pretty like before! So if that's the reason for all this neglect then just tell me!"
A strike of lightning hit the dirt terrain, illuminating your bedroom and allowing you to thoroughly see your husband's face.
His face was as stoic as ever, but those eyes... those damn eyes that were the only way you could see into his emotion had pools of sentiment swirling inside... you could normally sense how he was feeling.
But this time you couldn't tell.
Shielding your eyes behind your forearm you inhaled shakily and endeavored to alleviate your breathing.
"All I have is our son, Illumi! Every day I am alone, all by myself and I only get to see Xenon a few hours a day! If my appearance is what's keeping you away then you need to tell me! You need to stop ignoring me like am nothing but a disgusting person living in the same home as you!"
The man brought a finger to your wet cheek, the coldness of his skin rendering a shiver to arise up your back. "(Y/n)..."
Just hearing your husband's voice made your throat tighten and teeth grind against each other. Releasing your hold on your towel your hands slammed into his toned chest and pushed him onto the bed.
His hair sprawled across the mattress, his expressionless face now narrowly one of surprise. Your body was quick to appear over his, legs straddling his hips with your hands burrowing next to his head.
"Shut up!" Your voice cracked as tears descended from your eyes and trickled onto the man's pale cheeks.
"I'm tired, Illumi! I'm so exhausted, I'm in so much pain! You don't even know how hard it is every day to wake up in the morning! How I have no energy to even continue living and the only thing keeping me even slightly afloat is you and Xenon! My husband and son and at times... I don't even feel as if I even have a family. I feel like I am nothing..."
You could barely even breathe, your head pounding like a rainstorm as everything you've ever held your tongue about finally was let go.
"I love you so much but I am so tired, Illumi. So tired of being the neglected wife, just the mother to your child. You don't even understand how much it's hurt to even breathe."
It was quiet, with the only sound being from your sniffling and the now pouring rain that sprayed down on earth in an angry manner.
Your husband rose his hands slowly upwards, reaching your face and grasping your burning hot cheeks in his cool hands.
He stared up at you with his solemn gaze and stroked his thumbs over your watery cheeks. It was the first time in years since he's touched you and was just a bit of caressing but it had your heart squeezing.
"I could never be disgusted with you (Y/n)." He stated, voice not as monotone but more earnest than before. "I didn't marry your appearance, I married you."
One of his hands dipped from your face and grasped your bare thigh just below the provocative towel, the pads of his fingertips pressing into the soft plush flesh of your leg.
Your breath hitched, sending immediate sensations of desire through your touched starved body.
"So why?" You asked under your breath. "Why do you ignore me? Why do you shut me out? It wasn't like this before."
For once, his expression looked pained, those thin brows furrowed with his pale succulent limps twitching down into a grimace.
The words appeared stuck in his throat as if he was afraid to speak, or maybe he didn't know what to say.
You waited for him to articulate, desperate to know his answer but his mouth remained fastened shut.
"Illumi, please." You begged, your howling voice from earlier had long departed and left you with a barely audible manner. "Just talk to me... I'm your wife."
The man appeared as if he was struggling to breathe, his chest rising raggedly with both of his hands grasping the flesh of your plush thighs.
His hands were shaking, his fingers twitching before he closed his eyes to calm himself. That adam's apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed strenuously.
"I don't... I don't know how to."
Your lip quivered from his words. You knew he struggled with expressing his emotions clearly but you thought with all the years you've been together he had at least comprehended just a little.
"Just tell me what started it, where it all began." You pleaded.
Illumi let out a heavy sigh, shifting his gaze to the side of the wall before removing your body from atop of his.
He positioned you gently onto your back, relocating stray damp hairs out of your face with careful hands before quickly removing his body from yours.
The man sat at the edge of the bed, hands hanging loosely off of his thighs as he inhaled deeply.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
It was a typical day, nothing out of the ordinary as he held your hand through the garden. You were bored of resting inside all the time and expressed the want for fresh air.
He was hesitant at first, cautious of every little thing ever since you were revealed to be pregnant. But with just one look and one simple touch on his skin left him weak.
Illumi didn't look like it but the affection showed by his wife in any amount had his stomach executing flips.
It was something that was rare in his family, tenderness, kindness. It wasn't something he grew up with it so it left him significantly distant from it all.
But he was slowly learning, a pretty woman had entered his life and treated him like no other. With so much love and adoration that he was easily overwhelmed.
You loved him like how someone needed air to live, accepting his harsh blunt words and quickly turning it around into something else that had his insensitive heart flutter.
It was hard to express it but... the man loved you, and he loved the child growing in your womb that was a product of your devotion.
Your smile that was ever so bright had quickly fallen from your face, however. The movements in your legs halted as the hand that held his own flew to your bulging stomach.
The gasp that left your lips was airy, barely any sound tracing it as you hunched over. Illumi remembered calling your name, concerned only slightly until a scream rippled through the area.
He could never forget those exclamations, the wails that echoed out of your chest as you collapsed to your knees.
He couldn't forget the way your face scrunched in distress, tears pouring like a waterfall down your cheeks. Your nails dug into the skin of your arms and drew blood while more wails infiltrated his ears.
Something was wrong, you were too early. You shouldn't be having your contraction for another two months.
"Illumi!"
You had cried his name with a violent voice; face as if you were dipped in water, hair sticking to the sweaty skin of your face.
There wasn't a moment to waste as he swept you up in his arms and bolted back into the Zoldyck residents. His legs had advanced faster than they ever had before, swift and brisk.
His ren was spiking, the dangerous aura of it outstretching across the entire Kukuroo Mountain. Everyone on the estate was notified of the intense atmosphere and every available Zoldyck member was quick to appear by the eighteen-year-old at the time.
Your body was swiftly laid onto a bed in the medical room of the mansion while Kikyo quickly alerted the family nurse and doctor of your situation.
The cramps that spread across your abdomen were gut-wrenching, you could barely even think let alone breathe as they hit you like never-ending waves.
Tension so thick it could make diamonds surround the atmosphere in the bay. It only grew worse with every deafening cry from your mouth.
Your cheeks were drenched in tears, lashes dark and wet with your teeth biting into your bottom lip; a reaction to attempting to silence your own cries.
Illumi had never felt so unnerved by another person's pain, usually, he rejoiced in it - thrived off of it - but this was different.
This was his wife, the woman he grew to care about so helplessly who also was carrying his child. He wanted to do everything he could to take away your pain.
He would willingly trade places, be the recipient of its ache but he couldn't. There wasn't anything he could do, and that killed him with every passing second.
"Your child, it wants out now but Mistress isn't ready! And- And we don't have enough time for her to dilate!"
The doctor himself attempted to appear calm and collected but the bead of sweat on the side of his face was a dead giveaway.
His own hands were shaking by his side from the tension that the Zoldyck family was creating but more importantly from your husband.
"We can't go through natural birth as you planned! We are going to have to surgically remove the heir from her womb."
Illumi's heart had never stopped pounding like it did when he heard the doctor's words. It was imaginary, but the man felt as if something was crawling up his spine and diggings its claws down into his bones.
He knew what he was feeling, he knew what was taking hold of every fiber in his body. Fear had invaded his mind and provided him with scenes of the possible future.
And all of them lead to one thing...your death.
"No!"
The young man startled himself as well as his family from the audible shrill demand of his voice. He had never spoken in such a prominently human manner; his own teeth-gritting into each other.
"Young Master, please! The baby needs medical care that we can provide out here! If we don't surgically remove him now he won't make it and neither will the Mistress!"
The doctor's words were manifesting into arms that clawed at his body, attempting to pull him down into the dark suffocation of his fears.
His lips parted to speak but whatever he wanted to say was stuck along the walls of his esophagus. It was a lump that made it hard to breathe, to let him inflate his starving lungs.
All of his life his father had trained him to be wary of the fear, to know the limitations of his strengths. What he didn't understand he should abandon for the sake of his life.
But this... but you, he was just wary of it. Fear was all he could think of and how could he ever abandon the cause of it?
He was a genius at deducing what outcomes were the most successful for his missions. But at this very moment, he didn't know what to do.
For the first time ever, Illumi Zoldyck was stunned and he was scared.
The thought of losing his firstborn and/or losing you, all made the feelings in his legs dissipate and he almost keeled over right there.
He was just a kid - granted eighteen and raised in the Zoldyck estate - but he was in no way knowledgeable about being a father or even a proper husband.
The man married you to save you but it seems like he saved you from one situation only to prolong your demise.
Kikyo lightly placed her hand on her oldest son's shoulder and squeezed it. His gaze shifted to his mother's visor and for once he longed to ask her what to do.
But thankfully, the woman understood and directed their gaze back to the doctor and nurse who were prepping everything for the removal of his son.
"Some things are inevitable, no matter how hard we want to make it different." She hummed, small pinkish lips pursed curtly. "So do what you can."
He shook his head instinctively, his mouth opening to reply but what he wanted to say was all scrambled and mixed with his other hazy thoughts.
"How...?" It was under his breath, overtaken by your cry of pain but the woman still heard it. "How do I-"
"You be there for your wife, Illumi." She interjected. "She has no one but you, but us. You're the one she needs. Hold her hand, and support her through it."
The Madame of the Zoldyck family dropped her hand to his elbow and guided him to your side. Her free one grasped the back of his hand and made it connect with your own.
"A woman going through this situation, sometimes the only thing she needs is someone by her side... Not many people have that." Her voice cracked yielding Illumi to swallow thickly. "I didn't have that."
She spoke that last part willingly hushed as if she didn't want anyone to hear. His mother gave his elbow one last squeeze before leaving her son's side and the room to wait with the other members of his family.
Everything he felt before had magnified tenfold. The screams had only died down once the epidural had been shot into your spine to numb your lower body.
Illumi could see it in your eyes. There was so much you must have been feeling. Scared, hurt, alone?
Oh, how he wishes he could help but for now, the most he could do was hold your hand and kiss the back of it with his cold lips.
He wasn't listening to anybody, everything just zoned in on you. You were fine one minute, the next he turned his head watched the specialist cut underside of your bulging belly.
Your husband's breath hitched, his lips falling agape as he watched your blood seep from the incision. That day... it was burned into his memory.
There was so much blood.
So much gore.
His stomach churned at the sight of his wife being picked and prodded, your organs on display as they worked to remove his son.
A prominent assassin since he was a child and the sight of before him made every villainous execution he had ever preform kiddie play.
No matter what he never ever wanted to see you like that. You could barely even keep your eyes open.
Time passed by quickly for him and before he knew it his son was risen from your womb and into the air so they could look at him.
He was covered in just red.
And most importantly he wasn't breathing properly. His little chest wasn't rising or falling with its minute breaths.
His blood ran cold, his hands becoming clammy as dread filled every pore in his body.
Illumi remembered that you barely had any strength to cry, just weakly reaching for your child. You held his bloody form on your chest, holding him, caressing him, telling him how much you loved the little boy.
But like the child, your own breathing came to halt. The movement of your chest ceased as you bled and bled, the doctor and nurse rushing with everything they could.
Your head turned the slightest, your gaze meeting his as a pathetic smile attempted to appear on your lips.
"Our... Our Xenon..."
The heart rate had dropped to a blaring flatline, misty clouds befogged your conjunctiva as all life appeared to still as time stopped.
"(Y/n)?"
Why did he call out your name?
Why did he reach for your face, your once warm skin now matching the chilliness of his own?
Why did his eyes burn as it glazed over and released salty liquids that trickled down his face?
In the late evening that day, Illumi Zoldyck lost both his wife... (Y/n) Zoldyck and his son Xenon Zoldyck at the same time.
Everything within him tore apart, the smallest bit of emotion shattered like china.
Illumi kept calling your name and begged for you to come back to him. He pleaded... he threatened... he cried.
It shouldn't have ended like this, you shouldn't have gone before him and neither should have Xenon.
His hold on your hand was released as he launched a stool at the wall.
"F*ck!"
His ren spiked, his hands burrowing into his midnight-hued locks.
He lost everything, he lost what made him something.
The man couldn't breathe nor could he hear. He couldn't see as well smell. Everything was shut off. He felt numb like he was nothing but air that was to be picked up and blown away.
His mother placed a tender hand on his shoulder, her mouth opening to speak but an anomaly stopped her.
A beep, a gasping breath, and the wailing of a newborn baby.
Everyone's attention was flung to your frame, your chest beginning to rise and fall with the child wiggling around under your arms.
You looked over at your husband and inhaled a hefty breath. "Why is my husband crying?"
How he was glad you didn't know about what happened, with him and with you. He didn't want you to know that...
That you and Xenon were dead for four minutes.
And none of it would have happened if he had never given in to his urges. He should have been more careful, he should have never gotten you pregnant.
It was his fault, and he almost lost his wife because of it.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
You didn't even know what to say, there wasn't anything you could possibly say after hearing about it.
His worst fears had come alive that day. He was traumatized by the event and ever since he hasn't been the same.
He was afraid to touch you... like you were glass. He was afraid to look at you... because with one loving looking he'd want to ravish you like a beast.
It was hard to be in the same vicinity as you. All he wanted was to just hold his wife in his arms and relish in your touch again.
But he was scared - traumatized - and it's stuck with him for six years.
Slowly you sat your body upwards and gripped onto the falling towel to secure it. "I..." You didn't even know what to say but you knew it couldn't just be silent anymore.
"Illumi, I love you."
He redirected his gaze to slightly look at your dim face.
"I wish you would have told me. You've been carrying...all of that on your shoulders by yourself." You stated, shifting closer to his body at the edge of the bed.
Your husband shook his midnight black hair and turned his head away so you couldn't view his face. "Why? Because of me, you perished. It was essentially me killing you with my own hands."
"Hey!" You hissed and stepped off the mattress so you could stand in front of him in between his legs. "That was not your fault! It was no one's fault! We wanted-I wanted a child."
The man didn't respond to your words, keeping his gaze concealed.
"And because of me, I made you hate your body that I..." His breath hitched, shaky even. He swallowed thickly and stood to his feet.
He now towered above your frame while he slowly turned to meet your (e/c) optics with his dark pupilless ones.
"-That I lust for more and more with every passing day."
Your heart throbbed as words you never believed you would hear left his lips.
One of his hands reached for your jaw, caressing it with his calloused thumbs while keeping his gaze on your face.
His touch was foreign but was quickly welcomed back into familiarity.
"I love you."
Words couldn't explain what you were feeling. He didn't ever say that phrase, he didn't believe it was necessary because you already knew that.
Illumi leaned down from his imposing height and for the first time in years, he placed a kiss on your lips. You wanted more, you wanted deeper but he pulled away quickly to your dismay.
"I loved you then and I love you more now." He whispered, running his thumb along your bottom lip. "And I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you."
His eyes shimmered, glossing over and he quickly removed his gaze while stepping away from your frame.
"Please dress comfortably and get some rest. We can talk...if you want tomorrow." He muttered while strutting to the bedroom door.
The sight of his frame getting farther away from yours had you breathe irregularly. You didn't want him to leave, no not after everything that had blown down.
"Illumi-" His steps halted. "-please stay. I don't want to be alone, I just want you here with me."
He inhaled audibly, his fingers twitching by his side before he reached for the doorknob.
"If I stay any longer I won't be able to resist ravaging every inch of your skin." His head turned so you could see his eyes...and you could read them.
You could see how a deep hunger was sealed down deep beneath. It was clawing, scraping, wailing for a way out, and for a moment he even looked predatorial.
"And that's six years of lust and desire I kept locked away for your safety."
Swallowing thickly, you shook your head and reached a hand towards him. "But I'm not glass; I beat death."
"Maybe, but I can't control myself. And you can't beat me."
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
It was quiet today, the events that transpired last night almost seemed like a distant dream, but the bruises from his firm grip on your thighs were evidence enough.
You were still sort of in a daze, realizing how a lack of communication really separated the two of you for years.
Such a simple thing that should have come naturally was an issue you didn't really think needed to be resolved.
There was a fear in your heart that if you were to communicate your own issues it would anger or upset your husband.
But that was most likely one of the multitudes of reasons why your marriage has been rocky as such. The best thing you had to work on with each other was communication and verbalization.
It was certainly going to take some work from both of you.
"(Y/n)."
You nearly fell off the couch if you hadn't quickly stabilized yourself. Peeking behind the sofa it was a shock to see your husband entering the living room.
There wasn't even a clear memory in your head of the last time you witnessed him in places other than his office or your bedroom.
"Illumi!" You scrambled to your feet but the man shook his head as he set himself lightly on the cushion next to you.
The scent of his light cologne was being greedily devoured by your lungs. Before you could even say anything the man leaned down so his succulent lips were on yours.
This time you didn't let the opportunity go to waste. Your hands flung to his face to push him deeper into the kiss, desperately moving against his in a needy manner.
He responded just as eagerly with his hands reaching to hold your waist but only to pull himself away.
Your face burned like fire, lips aching for more.
Illumi hummed before breathing deeply. "Let's start with that." He stated, even quirking the corner of his lips into a coy grin.
"I'm not fragile, Illumi. I can handle my husband." You pressed but it only made the man shake his head.
"(Y/n), it's for your sake and my own." He replied, the grin growing. "An addict doesn't start off with the same dose's they used to do, you have to start off slow."
You huffed, crossing your arms under your chest and shifting your whole body to turn away from him on the couch.
"Well, I don't want to start off slow!"
The cushions rustled as he moved closer to your frame and pressed his chest against your back. His breath fanned the outer shell of your ear as you felt him chortle in his throat.
"Trust me..." A delicate hand reached for your neck and lightly traced down to your collarbone. "You'd want to start off slow with me."
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Your definition of slow and his definition must be two very different things.
Now that he starting to put in the effort and acknowledge you more, there was nothing more you wanted other than to jump his bones.
But he was so careful of how long he kissed you, where he touched you. You knew he was trying to hold himself back you didn't want that.
He didn't need to, he needed to see that you weren't this porcelain doll he was too afraid to break. The man can't keep blaming himself for putting you through pregnancy and dying for some time.
The both of you needed to work through your issues and Illumi needed to be guided through it. Which is exactly why you wore that short skirt from the mall and a button-up shirt.
Your breast pressed against the fabric of your top with the first few buttons undone.
The skirt could barely hide your bottom that peaked through. The deep ebony-hued stockings couldn't have been any less eye-catching with the way your plush thighs spilled over them.
It's a good thing your dear son was out of his grandfather, you hoped it would be a while too.
Knocking on the door with the back of your fist you called out to your husband. He responded quietly, his gaze still on the laptop as you entered his office.
He hadn't seen your clothes yet, good.
Creeping close with slow tantalizing steps you reached around the desk and leaned against it with your bottom pressing into the edge.
Your husband glanced at your figure quickly before flinging his gaze back to your body. His long dexterous fingers halted above the keyboard and his head tilted to the side.
"(Y/n)?" He asked.
"Illumi." You replied and smiled at him with the most innocent grin you could present. "You know when we talked about how we needed to communicate better?"
The man swallowed thickly, his adam apple bobbing before he slowly nodded his head.
"Well-" Pushing off of the desk you forced yourself between his legs and leaned back on the table. His gaze followed up from your plush thighs and when you leaned back he caught a glimpse of your c*nt, a shimmering slick string connecting it to your inner leg.
"-I think you owe me a little something, don't you think?"
Your husband swallowed again while his shaky hands reached for your succulent thighs. He inhaled strenuously, his grip growing firmer.
"You're torturing me, my wife." He huffed.
You moved his laptop and heaved yourself up to sit on the desk. Once you rested on the steal surface you opened your legs to the man, allowing for him to witness your glimmering wet lower lips.
And when you reached down, two fingers spreading your slits apart so he could have a view of something he hadn't seen in years...it was all downhill from there.
Illumi pulled your body closer to the edge, your back flopping onto the surface of the table as his hands traveled up to the back of your knee.
The cool air against your exposed lower body permitted a shiver to run up your back. The exhilaration was flooding through your veins, your breathing already becoming irregular.
It was like you could feel a heartbeat in your cl*t with the way it throbbed and pulsated. Already you were feeling flustered, overwhelmed even.
This was the most interaction he's ever had with you in years and it was making your palms sweaty.
Your husband leaned down, his pupilless optics closing as he placed soft smooches around the inner parts of your thighs.
Each kiss grew closer to your c*nt; every sensation of his lips connecting with your skin went right to your cl*t.
You swallowed thickly, leaning upon your elbows to watch the man you love inch his way to the space between your legs.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
You were pushing his boundaries, teasing him, testing him until he couldn't hold back anymore and indulge in his desperate hunger.
He wanted to take things slow, but you weren't as patient as you once were. And because of that, you were unleashing a starved beast that was utterly obsessed with you.
It was to the point where you no longer were the one who instigated lustful renditions, and it was now your husband taking everything into his hands.
Literally.
A light sigh was drowned out by the music from your radio on the counter. Your gloved hands diligently grasped the next plate in the sink as you swayed smoothly to the music.
The air smelled of soap, bubbles covering the surface of plugged water that eagerly needed to be cleaned.
Your focus was solely on the sink until a presence was felt behind you. You were about to turn to face the figure until it pressed up against your back, and your husband's light cologne flooded your senses.
It was like you were melting in his hold, absolutely adoring any attention or affection he gave. His long arms wrapped around your stomach while his face hid in the crook of your neck.
"Good morning, my husband." You hummed aloud and returned your attention to the dishes. You grabbed another with your yellow-gloved hands and reached for the sponge. "Did you sleep well?"
The man huffed, tightening his hold and letting his succulent lips press along the smooth skin of your shoulder.
You swallowed thickly, becoming distracted slightly from even the slightest bit of attention from the handsome midnight-haired male.
"Is Xenon with your father?" You sought, attempting to sway your debauched thoughts, but it was far more difficult as the man let his hand wander and snake behind your tan apron.
His cold nimble fingers played with the hem of your shirt as he spoke. "Grandfather took him this time." He uttered, his silky hair tickling your neck.
"Did he?" Your reply was rhetorical as you reached for a bowl you used to bake cupcakes for your son.
Illumi didn't speak; instead, his hands crept under your shirt and immediately caressed your bare stomach.
Your teeth clenched, the grip on the bowl growing firmer from the sudden sensation. "You're so warm." He mused in your ear, his voice only a whisper.
You didn't respond; instead, you stood silently and allowed for your husband to follow his fingers along the scar from Xenon's birth.
His lips touched just below your ear as he trailed small kisses up the side of your face. "How warm do you think you would be if my hands reached lower?"
Oh, he was the one starting things this time.
Too distracted from his words your husband didn't wait for a reply and instead removed one of his hands from your shirt to reach under the long skirt.
His calloused finger trips trailed up your inner thigh, brushing against bruises and contusions from his earlier 'play time'.
He wouldn't stop attempting to make it up to you one night after he marked your skin so woefully dark. The man had lost himself the other night, unable to control how hard he wanted to hold you and how desperate he was to cover your skin in his markings.
Apologies rolled off his tongue like one would do as if caught being naughty. He berated himself for losing control and wouldn't even look you in the eye until you smacked his head.
You reassured him with many words, kisses, and tender caresses until he could look at you again.
"They're becoming lighter and soon will be gone." You stated, scrubbing another dirty dish to hide the grin on your lips. "I wouldn't mind if you were to add more once they fade..."
His fingertips ceased their movements from your words, his breathing suddenly shifting to become more audible until you felt a grumble reverberate off his chest.
"I might lose control again." He replied, resuming the stroking of his fingers upwards until the pads of his extremities brushed against your clothed cl*t.
You clenched over nothing, stomach tensing against his other hand as you swallowed. "What if that is what I want?" You teased.
Illumi's breathing grew ragged as if he was already beginning to lose his self-constraint.
"Then I would have to say you're a bit of a fool, my wife." He kissed just below your jaw. "Holding back is the only way I can keep from really hurting you."
Your lips parted to reply and instead of words leaving your mouth, a satisfied sigh did. His fingers had pushed aside your bottom undergarments and grazed against your slickened folds.
"I only want for you to feel good. I owe it to you after all." He whispered as he pressed and prodded against your hole before entering his cool fingers tenderly.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
It has been a while, some months that passed since the two of you had finally revealed your issues and insecurities to each other.
You both had been working through it together and even engaging in tender touches that lead to only you reaching your climaxes.
However, you wanted more than just his mouth or fingers. You wanted all of him, everything he had to offer.
But he was still afraid to drive so far, to really let himself go and be one with your body once again. You didn't know how to get him to just f*ck you, but there was an idea you were unsure was going to work.
Knocking on the man's office door you didn't even wait for a response and instead let yourself in.
Illumi glanced up from a packet in his hand before shaking his head, the faintest smile gracing his lips and already making your cl*t throb.
"I would like to talk to you about something." You expressed, smiling at his figure.
He leaned back in his swivel chair and clasped his fingers together on his lap. "What is it, my wife?"
Communication has been better.
You skipped slightly to his desk, angling forward on the surface and holding your head in your hands. It was difficult to keep the grin off your lips and ultimately, you failed.
"I want you to hurt me."
Even if the man's normal expression was one of blankness, he now appeared visibly dumbfounded. "What?" His words were slightly above a whisper.
You couldn't help but release a bout of laughter from his response and tilt up so you were thoroughly standing straight.
"Not in the way you think, silly. I want you to stop holding back. I want you to just f*ck me already."
The man pursed his pale lips tightly together, his thin brows visibly furrowing as he appeared deep in thought.
You twiddled your fingers together and swayed back and forth on the balls of your feet.
"(Y/n), you know how I feel." He replied after a moment of hesitation.
His words made you wrinkle your nose and grimace visibly. Without thinking, your hand came down on the surface of his table as the other pointed an accusing finger at the male.
"I want you to f*ck me raw like when we were younger. When you would hold me down by the throat and make me look like a dumb b*tch in heat!"
There was no holding back now; there shouldn't be. The agreement between the two of you was that you would work on communication, and if there was something really bothering you, then there should be no fear of speaking your minds.
It was silent in his office, not a sound but your beating hearts.
Illumi's gaze fell from your flustered expression to the golden band on his ring finger. He was once again in deep thought.
"I don't want what happened before to happen again, (Y/n). I don't want to see you go through the pain, your death again."
You groaned aloud and shook your head. "I may be a fat f*ck but that doesn't mean I can't beat death again. I have too much to live for."
He sighed, one of his hands reaching for your face and caressing your bottom lip. "What did I say about calling yourself things like that?" He sought, voice hard and stern.
Before you could respond that hand on your cheek let itself make its way to your throat where he squeezed.
Immediately you inhaled shakily but the feeling of the pressure on your larynx had you just about become a puddle on his desk.
"Let's play a game, Illumi."
The man raised an eyebrow for a moment before releasing your throat much to your dismay. "What kind of game?"
Shrugging your shoulders obtusely, you turned your attention to his desk, mindlessly drawing circles on its frigid surface.
"See, I'm going to start running and you know that I'm serious if I'm running."
Your husband chortled in his throat and you couldn't help but smile at his response.
"I get to have a five-minute start where I try to find somewhere to hide. If you can find me - and catch me - within ten minutes after my head start we get to have a safe word and you can stop at any moment since you're so scared about hurting me-"
Illumi rolled his eyes at the last part.
"-But if it takes longer than ten minutes - even if it's just a second or two - You get to give me what I want and that's just raw animalistic f*cking until I can't even think anymore."
Your husband wasn't stupid, he knew why you offered the game. He was cruel, a hunter, and when he hunts he loses himself to his sadistic tendencies.
Everything in him would become heightened and his self-control would be almost non-existent. You knew him well and knew what to do to get what you wanted.
So if this is your game he'll play, humor you even but he won't give in so easily.
"Okay." He nodded his head in agreement before standing to his feet. His 6'1 (185 cm) figure towered over you as he hid his pale hands in his black slacks. "I'll play, but don't think you're going to get the outcome you want."
Your tongue swept along your bottom lip as you reached forward to his collar and yanked him down to your height.
"I'm tired of you underestimating me, Illumi. No nen or ren to detect me, that would be cheating. And I'll know if you're cheating. You wouldn't want to disappoint me now, would you?"
The man raised his arched eyebrows, not used to your straightforwardness but undoubtedly up for your challenge.
He leaned forward so his noise briefly brushed against yours. "Disappoint my wife?" His lips quirked into a coy grin. "Never."
Removing the gap between your faces you let his lips meet yours and pulled him into such a needy kiss. He responded just as desperate and reached for your waist but before he could touch you, you released his lips and his shirt.
His expression was one of slight disappointment as you merely giggled at him.
"See you soon, my husband." You crooned lightly.
"In five minutes, my dear." He responded.
Halting with your hands on the doorknob, you turned back to him and waved. "Make that fifteen."
"We'll see."
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Oh, you hate f*cking running.
But you loved the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins at the moment. The exhilaration of the chase, the thrill of fear making your head dizzy.
Either way whatever was the result of this chase you were going to have some fun. Especially with The Zoldyck family taking Xenon on his first assassination mission.
You prepared for this game and weren't going to allow your husband to win. Not when the thought of his toned his hips utilizing every prominent muscle of his lower body to plunge deep inside of you.
Giddily you skipped down the stairs of your wing and ran past the laundry room. A quick glance at the clock on the wall showed three minutes had already passed.
Two minutes.
You had only two minutes until your grace period would be over. A hundred and twenty seconds until the man began his hunt.
God(s) you were scared but so absolutely zealous.
It was like you were hot under the skin with how warm you felt. Your hair was already sticking to the back of your neck, heat radiating off of your thighs that rubbed together with every step.
A shower after being made a complete f*cking mess would be such a nice idea. Soothing your muscles, aiding the aches in your limbs and joints.
Dodging a low hanging light you squeezed through a slim hallway and made yourself finally reach the other wing all the way on the other side of Kukuroo Mountain.
The sudden sensation of Illumi's ren spiking before dispersing into nothing made your throat tighten.
Two minutes were up.
He was on the hunt, and he wanted you to know he was starting.
Now began the countdown of ten minutes. You had nine minutes and 59 seconds to evade his capture.
You didn't want that safe word, you didn't want for him to have the ability to stop when he felt like he was taking things too far.
It was time to get him back to how he used to be.
Illumi knew you weren't stupid enough to hide in your personalized wing so he had at least four other separate wings to check.
it was like a clock was ticking in your head with every passing second. It was haunting, terrifying but also exhilarating.
You didn't know if you should find somewhere to hide or just keep moving to avoid getting caught in one place.
There was a faint thump in the background that had your heart leap into your throat. Your breathing halted for a moment, everything becoming absolutely silent with the golden glow of the lowering sun drifting through the window.
Do you move?
Do you run?
Do you hide?
The faint thump sounded as if it was closer to your frame. You had to do something other than just stand frozen in the middle of a hall.
A ticking noise from a clock gained your attention. Your head snapped to its place on the wall and you estimated how much time had passed.
Seven minutes and twenty seconds left.
Dammit, only four minutes had just barely passed. Six minutes left. Just six minutes until you can win the game.
The closes door was on your left and you had to choose what to do. Glancing behind you one last time you quietly turned the diamond knob and crept inside the darkroom.
Slowly but cautiously, you shut it behind you, your heart thumping its music in your ears. You directed your attention to the darkness of the room.
It stank of metal, like iron and it made your nose tingle inside. Turning on the light switch would be detrimental; the light would reveal through the sides of the door, obviously.
Inhaling profoundly, you attempted to breathe in more than just the smell of iron. There had to be more. You weren't someone with inhuman senses like Gon or Killua but you had to try your best.
The odor, there was something else...something very faint. It was masked by the metallic undertone but it was there.
It smelled sweet and salty...like chips.
Coming to the realization of the smell you knew only one room in the mansion had this odor. You were in Milluki's rooms.
"F*ck!" You hissed under your breath and just as you whispered it faint light erupted from the dark corner of the bedroom.
Milluki's fat face was illuminated hauntingly by the computer light, his coy grin making your stomach sink.
"(Y/n), (Y/n)...What is a married woman doing barging into my room?" He teased, leaning back in his swivel chair.
Your mouth felt dry, half due to your running and the other half due to the fact the most immature Zoldyck son just had to catch you.
"Listen, Milluki." You hissed under your breath and stepped forward, your face glowering with your lips twitching into a sneer. "Don't you dare call him out, okay?"
The second oldest obviously knew what was going on; he kept track of the cameras in the other wings. You destroyed all the ones he tried to set up in your's and Illumi's part of the mansion.
"Why not?" He pressed, his arms crossing over his chest. "What's in it for me?"
'Selfish piece of sh*t!'
Illumi's ren flared...he was riled. You glanced at the electric clock on his desk.
Three minutes left.
Your husband must be slightly anxious now. Three minutes weren't long, but they also weren't that short either.
"What do you want? I don't have much to offer." You stated and the twenty-year-old nodded his head in understanding.
"You're right." He agreed while facing a palm to the ceiling. "But your husband has much much more to offer."
You pressed your lips tightly together. It wasn't your right to give off whatever was part of your husband's assets but...you'll find a way to make it up to him.
Illumi's ren flared; only a minute and a half left.
"Okay, okay! What do you want?"
Milluki didn't say anything, instead, he reached under his desk and flicked a switch. A latch puffed up from the floor, a visible white wisp leaking from the space.
He turned his gaze back to his computer before reaching for a manga. "We'll talk about it after he finishes rearranging your organs."
Heat rushed to your cheeks, embarrassment sticking to every part of your thoughts. "Milluki!"
Illumi's ren was too close for comfort.
The second oldest son shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Come on, (Y/n). With a body like that, you look like you'd want-"
Your hands scrunched his fat cheeks to shut him up. "I'm not an assassin like this family nor a killer but-" You squeezed his cheeks harder, permitting a sudden cry from him. "-I'll rip your balls off if you talk about my body like that."
He nodded his head quickly, sweating which made you abruptly rip your hands off of his face. You skidded over to the latch and lifted it up to see the entrance to its dim dungeon-like basement.
Milluki wiped his forehead before returning his gaze to his forgotten manga. "He might kill you with his di-"
"I'll kill you with my fist if you don't shut up." You interjected as you carefully lowered down its metal ladder.
The man simply waved his hand nonchalantly before flicking the switch again and the small square platform closed and sealed to hide the hidden entrance beneath.
You managed to gain some distance now, less than a minute should be left. Almost giddily you ran down the corridor of the basement, its hall appearing never-ending as you passed rooms with steel bars.
Just a little longer, you're almost there.
You're going to win! You're going to beat Illumi! The smile couldn't be wiped from your face even if you tried.
A door was coming into view, the main door to the basement. It led to the middle of the mansion and Illumi must still be on Milluki's far side.
Or that's at least what you thought until the cellar suddenly dropped in degrees. Sweat that glistened on your visible skin chilled from the presence of your husband's intense ren.
Run
Your skipping shifted into full-blown hauling a** as you realized he was down here with you.
No! NO!
You were already exhausted, your limbs aching from the exertion you were most definitely not used to. But you pushed them regardless of the burn in your muscles.
The chase was exciting but terrifying. You would say this was the most fun you've had since Hisoka took you out into town.
And when you could hear his sudden footsteps growing closer, you nearly screamed.
"(Y/n)."
His voice was so cold it felt as they were attempting to freeze your limbs solid to immobilize you. You swallowed, the saliva irritating your already dry and itchy throat from the constant running.
"Come here."
He commanded, his voice closer this time but it was overtaken by the raging palpations of your heart in your eardrums.
"Don't run from me."
He had to be right on your heels, suffocating you with his ren that you could barely even breathe.
That was playing dirty.
The door, the door was right there! You reached for it, choking slightly on the lack of air and the only sound that broke through your beating heart was the ringing of an alarm.
One of his hands grasped your wrist before It was like a flash of light, your hearing buzzing as white danced through your vision.
The sensation of coming down from the high of the chase was overwhelming. You had to shut your eyes and attempt to focus but the desperate need for air was stealing all of your attention.
Rise and fall
In and out
Slowly but surely it didn't take long for everything to begin returning back to you. The sound of your ragged breathing was first and it wasn't just yours either.
Illumi's was just barely audible but you could hear it, the strain in the back of his throat. Next was your touch, cooled marble underneath your figure that was greedily honored for your burning body.
Finally, your sight had returned. Opening your eyelids gradually the form of your husband was the first thing you could see.
Your body rested on the floor with the man caging his hands by your head, your hands unconsciously gripping his wrist for support.
"Illumi-" He ceased your speech by closing the gap and connecting his lips with yours. You didn't even hesitate to respond, desperately pressing into him deeply.
You let out a delighted hum, relishing the way his lips moved along yours and his tongue nudging his way into your mouth.
"You won." He murmured against your face when he finally pulled away for air. "You beat me?"
He sounded almost bewildered by the fact and it brought a grin to your lips. "What did I say about underestimating me?" You teased under your breath.
His expression was blank, his wide eyes unreadable for a moment before something flashed into the dark voids of his iris'.
Your mouth parted to speak but instead, you gasped when one of his hands took its place on your throat.
Illumi's chilled palm pressed along your larynx, the pads of his calloused fingers digging into the flesh of your neck.
A shaky breath was exhaled from your lungs as your optics widened. The pressure, his sudden aggressive action all went straight to your cl*t.
"You earned it, you deserve it." He mussed, the silky strands of his hair cascaded down by your head like a smooth waterfall.
"So I'll f*ck you until you can't think straight."
His grip grew tighter.
"I'll make it so you can't even breathe anymore."
He brought his face closer to yours.
"You're going to look like a mess swathed in tears and my c*m."
Illumi blessed you with a rare grin.
"You got me all riled up just so I could drill inside mercilessly."
You didn't speak, you couldn't as the lack of oxygen created dancing voidness across your vision. Laying limply was your figure only a second longer before he removed his hand from your throat.
Immediately you took the chance to inhale air greedily and cough clamorously. He didn't give you much of an opportunity to recover as your body was flung over his shoulder.
Flaccidly you hung, the strength to fight back or react stolen from your limbs. It felt as if only seconds passed until the familiar setting of your bedroom appeared before your vision.
Your back had connected against your mattress, your pants being ferociously removed along with your lower undergarment.
You were being manhandled, treated like a ragdoll as he worked to remove every other clothing item that shielded your deliciously succulent frame from his gaze.
You liked that. You liked it a lot.
His movements were frantic, barbaric as if your naked body would give him the air he so hopelessly needed.
Illumi's hands left your body only for a moment so he could be just as bare, just as vulnerable. Through half-lidded eyes, you admired his tone and muscled abdomen.
Of course, your gaze dropped lower to his crotch and you soaked in the sight of his meaty length.
"Yes, oh yes, please!" You pleaded, already chiming like a harlot.
He gripped the back of your knees and yanked your body so your bottom just barely hung over the edge.
The action made you clench over nothing. One of his hands released your leg so he could reach down and lift his c*ck and place it on your stomach.
His pelvis met yours as the two of you observed the way his fatty tip stopped just above your navel.
The weight of his extremity, the heat of it had you almost climax on the spot. It had been so long since you saw it and it looked just as pretty as you remembered.
Lengthy, it could reach the deepest parts inside of you with little to no effort and having you writhing beneath him.
His tip was wide, fat, corresponding with his girth that had you holding it with two hands when you desired to suck him down your throat.
God(s), you love him so much and his c*ck that had your legs quivering for days.
Illumi hummed at your debauched expression, his wide pupilless optics now half-lidded with the lack of self-control.
"Look at you." He announced with the dreary cold tone to his voice nonexistent. It was breathy, course, and deeper than usual. "You like looking at my c*ck, hmm?"
You nodded your head without hesitation however that didn't seem to be the right response. He reached down to your hair, tugging your head back to reveal your bare throat to him.
The pain shot through your scalp but the sensation didn't hurt. No, it just made you even more insatiable for your husband.
"I want to hear you speak (Y/n). If I say something you answer me with those pretty lips."
You grinned, rolling your hips so you could grind against the hardened c*ck that rested above it. "You think I'm pretty~?" You sought with a breathy voice.
His hand on the back of your knee tightened.
"I'll answer when you're stuffed full of my c*m."
You squealed giddily and reached down to his length but he released your hair so he could snatch your wrist. He pinned it above your head while his other hand latched onto his cock and pressed the dripping head at your entrance.
It took everything in you not to grind against the tip.
He pressed and prodded it, just barely stretching your hole until he drove in with no remorse. Your (e/c)'s eyes widened, a gasp stuck in your throat as an arch formed in your spine.
The stretch hurt, you were wet enough but the size of him required your walls to stretch to remold around his veiny c*ck.
The pain had you quivering, eyes glazing over with tears. The sight had your husband's hold on your wrist slacken, a pang of guilt arising in his eyes.
At the sight, you furrowed your brows and reached upwards to yank on some strands of silky midnight locks.
"Do not dare look at me like that, Illumi." You seethed. "I won so f*ck me like you don't care! Make it hurt, make it hurt so good that I'm begging for more."
Like a switch flipping, the slightest acknowledgment of guilt was gone and all you could see was primal desire.
He released your wrist only to slap his hand over your mouth and shove your head into the mattress. Your husband gripped your left thigh, pressing it down against your chest so he could visibly observe your c*nt.
When he drove his hips back so his c*ck could pull away from the warm depths of your body, your lips could be seen holding him down as if begging him to never go.
He liked that.
The force he used to rock back into you had your whole body jolting on the bed. You cried, wailing audible but muffled under his hand from the forceful thrust.
It hurt so good.
Like the sadistic man he is, he f*cked you as if you were nothing. Plunging himself so deeply that he brushed against every sensitive spot inside and reached your cervix.
His trapezius muscles flexed as he thrust so heavily violent, the arch in your back developing greater.
Your whines and pleads of pleasure were incoherent, vibrating against his cool palm with saliva already dripping from the corner of your lips.
His hips jerked as he quickly gained momentum and rolled his hips continuously. He beat into you as if he owned you.
"Can't even focus, huh? Lookin already dazed, my wife."
Your abdomen tingled, stomach tensing as your climax already began to approach. You knew you should have lasted longer but when he was drilling into you so carelessly as you've always wanted...well how could you not c*m so quickly.
The male was being clenched down by your inner walls, sucking him in even deeper. The head of his c*ck kissed the barrier with heavy thrust.
Your insides that were being gripped down on his member, walls fitting tighter around him so perfectly, allowing you to feel every thick vein that protruded against the skin of his c*ck.
The ridges were a bout of added pleasure that you were obsessed with. They skimmed effortlessly along with the tender areas that had you squirming, quivering, just about c*mming on his d*ck.
You molded so tightly around him as if your body was trying to keep him inside as much as possible. As if you never wanted to let him go and keep him all to yourself.
The pace of his gloriously rocking hips grew. Every time he rocked his pelvis forward he pressed the head of his c*ck against the entrance to your womb.
There was so much of him left, so much that wanted to be in you but couldn't due to the barrier deep inside. It enranged him.
He desired for all of himself to be inside, clenched by velvety walls, burning from your warmth inside.
So, he took his sudden anger out on you and drove harder inside instead.
"Ah~!" The scream was hoarse, broken under his hands as your eyes rolled back inside your head. You clamped down so firmly on him that his hips quivered and jerked for a moment.
The tingling in your abdomen grew intense before it flushed through every nerve inside your body. Your insides were fluttering, tensing up all nice and tight.
It was a wave of ecstasy and euphoria that blanketed your mind.
You couldn't even speak, or think as you felt your walls pulsate to the beat of your ragged heart.
Your stomach contracted, the abdominal muscles were tight from how much you sucked in your gut. The free leg that wasn't being held down slammed against his side, pressing into him as you threw your head back into the mattress.
"C*mming already?" He sought. "Can't handle a little force huh?"
You could only whimper, jolting from the oversensitive from his c*ck that continued to be drilled inside unremorsefully.
His fingers gripped below your jaw and forced your dazed expression to face him.
"Hey, Hey. Speak so I know when you're too f*cked to produce coherent words."
You swallowed strenuously, having to force yourself to focus and think of something to say back.
"Illumi~." You sang his name like a breathless hymn and reached for his wrist, digging your nails into his flesh that you were sure you'd reach the bone.
The man grunted in acknowledgment and switched his hold to be grasping your throat. He pressed down firmly, removing the ability to breathe comfortably as you sucked in air helplessly.
Your hips bucked upwards, tears glazing over as the inner corner of your eyes burned from the bliss.
Choked moans and mewls along with the wet squishing noise of his crotch barely meeting yours echoed in the bedroom.
Your free leg dropped onto the bed, your body becoming limp from how high the choking made you feel.
"Going limp on my d*ck already? Should I f*ck you unconscious and drive so deep until you wake up again?"
You struggled to speak against his hand but the male rose his arched brows, pretending like he heard a legible response.
Drool dribbled down your chin and trailed down your jaw, your teeth clenching into each other as you barely had any strength to hold his wrist.
Your body coated itself in sweat in an attempt to cool down. Hair stuck to your face, neck, and any possible slicked skin that it could touch.
The lack of air made everything twice as sensitive, it compelled all your senses to push into overdrive.
Illumi's hand that applied pressure on your larynx ached but you wanted more. You wanted harder even though your vision was blurring, darkened voids takings their place over the sight of your husband.
Right before the apex of your choking could lead you into unconsciousness he released your throat. You inhaled sharply, devouring proper air that had your stomach tingle intensely once again.
Your husband brushed his thumb tenderly over your swollen bottom lip only for a moment. That tenderness was quickly removed as he planted his open hand on the side of your face and drove it down harshly into the mattress.
The force, the aggression, it wasn't long until the tingling grew far more intense. It had you quivering, crying as you wailed and whimpered.
Tears and drool glistened on the skin of your face, such a pretty sight for your husband.
"You're so needy. You want to c*m again, don't you?" He questioned. You didn't respond, his words were taking a moment to register in your head.
The lack of response had the male scowl. His hips jutted forward so he could press so deeply inside that his tip did more than just kiss the entrance to your womb.
"F-F*ck!" You cursed under your breath.
"Talk, (Y/n)! Don't disobey your husband now."
Your teeth chattered against each other, your lids flickering open and closed. Barely even focusing your gaze on the sweaty built frame of your husband had your expression one of absolute daze.
"Please." You could barely even squeeze the words out. "Please let me c*m. I-I need to c*m so bad it h-hurts!"
"Oh?" He expressed lightly. "So you can speak still."
The ache in your neck throbbed from how he forced your head to the side but you welcomed it with open arms.
This was everything you wanted, everything you've been craving for years.
Both of his hands dropped to your hip and pressed his fingertips into your skin which was soon accompanied by his nails.
The hold allowed for him to not only just rut into you but also guide your lower body to meet every heavy forceful thrust.
You tightened, memorizing where the thickest vein to the thinnest rubbed against your walls around him. The man swallowed thickly, rolling his eyes slightly in the back of his head as his c*ck twitched inside.
He was close to his end, pulsating with every thrust and rut that matched your guided hips.
"F*ck. I'm going to c*m and you're going to take it all like a good little wife, right?"
You nodded eagerly and reached for the back of your thighs to pull your legs wider open.
Illumi groaned, the vein on his neck throbbing as he audibly huffed. "You better not let a single drop seep out. All of it, every single f*cking drop better stay inside your greedy f*cking c*nt."
He tilted his head to the side, his midnight hair sticking to his broad back and shoulders. "You hear me?"
"Y-Yes."
"That's what I like to hear."
It didn't take much longer for you to reach another orgasm. The tight tingling sensation in your lower abdomen pulsated and throbbed before it all flushed through your system.
Only choked gasps and whimpering left your lips as your stomach flexed and contracted due to the pressure.
The liquids of your org*sm milked his c*ck, the presence of it being seen on it every time he had pulled out and drilled back in.
Reaching the very peak of your ecstasy it burst and spread all throughout your body. Pleasure coursed throughout your veins as adrenaline would, with eyes rolling back in your head drool dribbled down the corner of your lips.
You saw white with your hearing abruptly zoning in and out, the only thing you could hear was your husband's muffled grunts and groans above you.
He was hitting the deepest areas of your body while the heat of his skin wafted off onto yours. His large hands held you so close and tight on your hips.
The creamy white liquid of your org*sm pooled around the base of his c*ck and spread across your folds that were already sopping wet.
"Look at the mess your making on yourself, darling."
So tight, so firm you clenched around his c*ck and that was all he need to finally reach his own release. His abdomen tensed and tingled, contracting as the ecstasy burst through his veins.
You could feel him twitching, throbbing inside of you. He swelled up nicely as his balls tensed. His seed flooded through his c*ck before it finally released through the tip.
Illumi's c*ck that brushed against the entrance of your womb had now kissed it stiffly, a spray of his heated liquid pouring into it.
"Take it, take it all like the greedy little wife you are."
Your teeth clenched down at the sensation, gripping over him to draw every bit of his seed into you.
His hips jerk, the angle of your bottom allowing for every hearty spurt of his seed to drip and gush into your womb and stay there.
The man was greedy, desiring for everything that came from him to coat your insides and pool within the very deep sensitive area of your body.
Your body sucked and gripped down on him, begging for every last drop from his sturdy balls that pressed firmly against your bottom.
"F*ck." His own voice cracked, eyes shutting tightly from one of his strongest climaxes to ever ripple through his veins.
The both of you were breathing heavily, chest falling and rising rapidly with the weight of exhaustion taking over. It hurt to keep your eyes open, the weariness from the chase and the very rough intercourse had drained you of all energy.
"(Y/n), hey." He slapped your face lightly to you wake you. You groaned, swallowing saliva to ease the itchiness in the back of your throat.
Your husband slowly removed himself from inside, observing the way his slightly pink c*ck now shimmered in your glistening mixed climaxes.
When he was fully out it wasn't long before his c*m was attempting to leak out of your used and abused hole.
"What did I say, (Y/n)." There was an undertone of vexation. "Keep it all inside. Keep all of me inside or I swear I'm f*cking you stupid."
You had no strength, absolutely exhausted. You couldn't do it, it wasn't possible. Attempting to keep the thick liquid inside was a challenge you already failed from the start.
There was so much that he had held back, so much pent up that when he reached his climax he couldn't help but paint your insides white and fill it with his overwhelming amount of seed.
So when your husband witnessed the smallest stream escape your hole and dribble down your bottom... his hands were back on your body.
Illumi grasped your flaccid limbs and lifted you up onto your feet. You couldn't stand, already falling over from the ache in your thighs but he held you up by your throat.
He bore a seat on the bed where you once were and laid your body over his lap. Your breast hanging over the edge of his thigh with your bottom resting in the air, your legs quivering.
"You want to disobey me right? You want to defy your husband and ignore what he tells you?"
You shook your head at his words and whispered out a weak 'no'.
The man let a large hand reach down to your bottom, caressing the thickness before digging the pads of his calloused fingertips into your warm flesh.
His gaze turned over to your backside and grasped both of your bottoms, spreading apart your cheeks so your c*nt lips could flare open.
More of his seed dripped out, cascading down your warm thighs and sticking to your skin.
He observed it intently, his expression stoic for a moment before his arched brows furrowed.
"My wife needs to learn her lesson, yes?"
A shiver ran up your bare spine, dispositions of potential outcomes danced through your head. What do you say? What do you do?
You didn't know, only rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to create friction and subdue that returning heartbeat in your cl*t.
Abruptly one of his hands came down upon one of your bottom cheeks, his hand opened with full contact on your skin.
"Ah!" You wailed out audibly, the burning of the corner of your eyes starting as it glazed over with tears.
Your a** jiggled, your thighs rippling from the force as you push your bottom up unconsciously. Throbbing stinging pain flushed through your skin and spread down your legs.
"You still don't answer me? Did I f*ck you stupid already?" He sought, the rumbling of his speech felt against your side that pressed on his chest.
Swallowing thickly you reached over to the bed to dig your nails into the soft cushion. "N-No." It was barely above a whisper.
His open hand came down on the opposite cheek, this time harder and more forceful. The gasp halted in your throat, your whole body jolting from the violent might of his slap.
"Who do you think you're talking to!? You better speak louder!?"
Your bottom began to ache, throbbing as heat rushed to the spanked skin. It made your cl*t throb, the force, how treated you like a ragdoll, throwing you around and holding you down.
There was no denying that you liked it. Becoming even more turned on with every domineering slap that hurt so good.
"Y-Yes! God(s), please Illumi."
The man dragged his fingers down your thighs with feather-like touches up and down until he reached dripping c*nt.
He gave you no preparation or warning as two of his fingers drove into your c*m filled inside and passed downwards against your bladder.
You clenched so tightly, spasm almost from the overstimulation. One of your hands gripped onto his thighs and you attempted to remove yourself from over his lap but it was futile.
He gripped the back of your neck and forced your head down, essentially keeping your body over his lap as he began pumping his fingers inside.
His chilled long nimble fingers reached deep and grazed over the stimulants inside. Your hips were bucking, body spams as you cried and wailed.
"You're so pretty." He complimented, squeezing his fingers over the back of your neck while driving his fingers harder.
Illumi leaned down for a moment to kiss the middle of your back, his cold lips a soothing touch on your burning skin.
"So f*cking pretty I lose my mind." He huffed, almost overwhelmed by your quivering form on his lap.
For a moment he removed his drenched fingers and slammed them down on your heated cheeks. You screamed, eyes rolling back in your head as hit your other cheek with an open hand.
Two...three...four, he hit you four times with intense force before resuming his fingers place back inside. Your stomach was tingling, your org*sm reaching closer and bringing you closer to the edge.
"Desperate, desperate you are getting off on being hit. I can feel how close you are, it's funny."
You pressed your stomach more into his lap, back arching as your hips swayed from the overstimulation.
The tingling grew more intense, spreading across your abdomen as adrenaline coursed through your veins.
Removing his fingers from inside he grasped your hair, throwing your head back as his other hand forced your body upwards.
He guided your body hurridly to be straddling his lap, the tip of his leaking c*ck at your sopping wet entrance.
Your husband was quick to plunge inside again so your org*sm couldn't dissipate. He reached so far inside, your walls spamming as they worked to stretch and form around him again.
Pressing your sweaty chest against him, hands flew to his shoulders where you dug your nails into his pale flesh.
Illumi griped your hip, fingers driving into your plump skin so he could use his strength and guide your body to bounce on him.
Quicker, faster his c*ck pounding inside that pressed against the entrance to your womb was bringing your climax closer at a rapid rate.
Your husband tugged on your hair and forced your head back so your throat was open to him. He wasted no time attaching his lips to your skin, sucking, marking it all with contusions and love bites.
You couldn't help but smile. Ecstasy and euphoria were infused with every nerve inside of your body. This was exactly what you wanted.
Illumi manhandled your body, throwing you around, and doing whatever he wanted. The chase had heightened every one of his senses and slowly broke his self-control.
If you hadn't won he wouldn't be like this. He wouldn't just be treating you like a f*ck toy and abusing his strength over yours.
You loved it, you loved it all.
With his fat c*ck brushing against the stimulants inside, driving in so deeply, it was all you needed to release for the third time.
Your lips parted as you shakily inhaled. You drew blood from his shoulders while pressing against his chest.
Rolling your eyes back into your head your lids flickered. Your walls tightened and squeezed, convulsing around his pounding c*ck.
"You look so f*cking pretty c*mming on my c*ck." He breathed against your skin, pulling back so he could fully see your debauched expression.
The creamy liquids of your org*sm milked his length, drenching his pubic hair and dripping down your thighs.
Your walls fluttered, coursing through every vein and boiling the blood below your skin. Sucking and goading him for more.
You were shaking with your whole body trembling above him. It didn't take long for Illumi to move you once again.
He lifted your succulent body with his firm hands and flopped your frame on your left side on the bed. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed while holding your right thigh open to reveal your c*nt to him.
Aggressively he plunged inside and held your lifted leg over his arm as both hands held onto your curved waist.
You unconsciously ground against him, back stretching as you reached behind your frame to grip the bedsheets drenched in your sweat.
With every prominent thrust of his hips, he made your a** jiggle and ripple. He hummed blissfully, his pupilless optics keeping their gaze on your plush bottom.
He stroked so deeply, so profoundly as he lost himself in the wet warmth of your insides. He couldn't get enough of the whole rendition.
Your moans and mewls were encouragement. Rippling bruised cheeks from his spankings fueled him harder.
He was close again, stomach tingling and balls tensing. The thoughts of spilling into you again were what he needed to grip so tightly he bruised your skin.
His perfectly straightened teeth ground against each other as they felt his stomach start to contract and tense.
"I'm going to c*m again and this time you'll listen to me right?" He didn't wait for an answer as he spoke again. "Be the little vixen you are and suck it all from me. Hold it in as if your life depends on it."
At the moment he mostly meant that last part.
By now you most definitely couldn't produce any words. Your throat was raw from moaning and ached from the dryness of your esophagus.
(e/c) optics rolled back into your head, eyelids barely able to keep open as your husband swelled inside of you once again.
His c*ck was felt twitching inside your clenching walls, molded around him in a tight hold that was constraining.
You were eager to feel the sensation of his seed filling into your womb and Illumi was just as impatient to give you what you wanted.
The man's hips jerked upwards, the tip of his member kissing your cervix as his body finally released and he was met with his climax.
He inhaled audibly, grunting aloud and calling out your name in an almost desperate plea.
Warm spurts of his c*m sprayed from his tip into your womb that amassed all of it greedily. They were thick, painting your insides white with his slow lascivious thrust.
Your belly felt full, heavy even as the comforting feeling drove through every nerve in your body and numbed your brain.
He continued to roll his member inside, making sure every last drop was drained from his firm balls before finally, he allowed himself to still and plug his seed.
Almost frantically he captured your lips again while surrounding your torso with his long muscular arms.
Illumi held you tightly to his chest, desperately attempting to be closer to you both physically and spiritually. No matter how much he could press your body against his it never felt enough.
"I love you." He murmured in your ear, placing much softer smooches below your ear. "I must apologize if I went too far.
You shook your head blissfully and weekly rested a hand atop his head. "I love you too. And I don't think I require an apology tonight, my husband."
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
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