#hunterxhunter x reader

[winxanity-ii]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏

╚»★«╝ 𝐇𝐱𝐇 𝐌𝐞𝐧: 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐚 x 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ╚»★«╝

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: angst/fuff-ish

‌🇷‌🇦‌🇹‌🇮‌🇳‌🇬‌: non-explicit

🇵‌🇴‌🇻‌: 2nd person; You/Your

🇩‌🇪‌🇸‌🇨‌🇷‌🇮‌🇵‌🇹‌🇮‌🇴‌🇳‌: in which, fate hears your prayers of hurt and pain and you're saved in more ways than one.

🇼‌🇴‌🇷‌🇩‌ 🇨‌🇴‌🇺‌🇳‌🇹‌: 4.6k

🇦‌/🇳‌‌: Lololo I lowkey wandere how long it was gonn a be before i pop out with a HxH one-shot.

★·.·´🇭‌🇺‌🇳‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ × 🇭‌🇺‌🇳‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You're a shadow among shadows in the 247th Hunter Exam, another face in the crowd, but with a secret that sets you apart.

Behind the dark glasses you wear lies a secret—your eyes, usually a simple shade of brown, transform into a deep, vivid crimson when your emotions surge. This striking change is a remnant of your Kurta heritage, a beautiful yet haunting reminder of a past steeped in tragedy. You're a lone survivor, the massacre by the Phantom Troupe a scar that never fades.

You've learned to hide your eyes not only to blend in but to shield yourself from unwanted attention. The fluctuation in color from brown to red is a giveaway of your emotional state, a vulnerability you can't afford in situations that demand composure. These glasses are your armor, concealing the turmoil within and helping you maintain an air of normalcy amidst the chaos of the exam.

You watch them from a distance. There's the boy with the innocent face and spiky black hair—he exudes an unmistakable aura of purity. Beside him, a silver-haired kid, his demeanor screams 'trouble', but there's a hint of loyalty in his eyes. A tall guy in a suit, barking louder than his bite, is impossible to miss.

And then, there's him—one who unknowingly mirrors a part of your hidden past.

You don't know his name yet, but he's different. He has hair like sunlit gold and eyes of a striking gray, eyes that don't miss much. He moves with a certain calculated precision, every step, every gesture steeped in purpose.

You feel an inexcusable urge to go over and make friends with the group, but you don't. Sadly, you've learned the hard way—trust is a luxury, and solitude is your best friend. So, you watch and listen from a distance, absorbing fragments of their conversations as much as you could—their dreams, their fears, their determination to win. Despite the bustling environment of the exam, you're like a ghost—always there, unseen, unheard, yet moving through the exam with a silent vow to keep your identity and your pain securely locked away.

☆

☆

In the suffocating confines of Trick Tower, you're caught in a psychological battle, the air thick with tension. Your adversary is no ordinary opponent; he's a prisoner, his smile not just cruel but dripping with wicked intent. The game's rules are simple, yet twisted in their own way: he has five minutes to provoke you into attacking him. The rule is clear—the quicker you lose your cool, the more hours you'll owe. If you somehow manage to withstand the full five minutes without lashing out, you'll escape any penalty. But this guy knows exactly how to push your buttons.

At the start, his insults are mere jabs, testing your defenses...

"Look at you, trying to act all tough." he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. "Why so quiet? Afraid you'll break a nail, sweetheart?

...however, as the clock ticks, his words turn increasingly vile and misogynistic....

"Aren't you going to entertain me? Don't be shy. Come over here so I can show you what a real man is."

You feel a twitch in your jaw, your calm facade beginning to crack. You scoff as you lift your head in defiance, your glasses slip, revealing a flash of crimson. It's only a moment, but he catches it.

He falls silent, and for a moment, you think he's done. But then, slowly, almost thoughtfully, he speaks again. "Never thought I'd see the famed Kurta fire in person," he says, a twisted awe in his voice. "Bet the Phantom Troupe had a field day with your kind getting those." His words crawl under your skin, each syllable laced with malice.

The timer hits around 5 minutes and 30 seconds when he crosses the final line. "Man, I should've bought a pair off the Phantom Troupe before landing in here. Would've made a nice trinket to gaze at and pass time," he smirks.

That's the last straw.

Your restraint shatters. You're on him before you know it, driven by a surge of raw, unbridled fury. Your fists are relentless, each strike a release of years of pent-up anger and grief. The world turns a shade of red, both from your eyes and your rage.

As the guards pull you off, his laughter turns into a painful gasp, a sound that echoes in your mind long after. "You lose," he chokes out, his twisted grin the last thing you see before he passes out.

Your short victory is hollow as you're given a swift verdict by the Tower Guard for losing he game—a penalty of ten lost hours, ten hours of isolation. Forced into isolation, you find yourself in a room shared with the very individuals you've been silently observing.

It's a bizarre twist of fate.

You learn their names in snippets of conversation. Gon, with his boundless energy. Killua, always cool and collected. Leorio, loud and passionate. And Kurapika, his voice a soft, determined thread in the tapestry of their chatter.

Oh, and this weird fat guy named Tonpa, as well.

The room feels smaller with their presence. You curl up on the other side of the room, a silent, watchful presence. Your body aches from the fight, your heart heavy with the weight of your past. As sleep tugs at your consciousness, you drift off, missing Kurapika's confession about his own quest for revenge, his own clan's tragedy.

Coming to, you're gently roused by Gon's voice, tinged with his usual cheerfulness. "Hey, your time's almost up!" he informs you. Gratefully, you murmur a soft "thanks" and sit up, stretching out the stiffness in your muscles.

Your gaze drifts across the room, taking in the scene. Killua is by himself, idly fiddling with Gon's fishing line, lost in thought. Leorio and Tonpa are sprawled on a sofa, an amusing picture with their feet comically entangled in each other's faces. Kurapika sits in quiet repose, absorbed in a book.

As your eyes linger on Kurapika, he seems to sense it, lifting his gaze from the pages to meet yours. Despite your shades, his piercing look makes you feel exposed, vulnerable. Quickly, you shift your gaze away.

Turning to your side, you notice Gon still sitting beside you, a slight blush on his cheeks. "Sorry," he begins hesitantly, "I was just wondering... why do you always wear those shades?" His finger points innocently at your glasses.

You reflexively reach up to your shades, ensuring they're in place, covering your revealing eyes. With a reassuring smile, you answer, "I have sensitive eyes. The shades help protect them from bright lights."

Gon's response is full of childlike wonder. "Like vampires?" he asks, his eyes wide.

Your laughter is soft, a rare sound amidst the tension of the Hunter Exam. "Yeah, kind of like vampires," you agree, amused by his analogy.

As you're chuckling, the Tower God's announcement interrupts, declaring the end of your penalty. Standing up, you gather your things, including a hoodie draped over a chair. You nod to Gon in appreciation. "Thank you... Gon, right?"

"Yup! My name's Gon! What's yours?" he asks with an infectious enthusiasm.

"Y/N," you reply with a smile. "Thanks again, Gon. Hope to see you in the next phase."

Gon's giggle rings out as you pat his head gently. "You too, Y/N!" he replies, still chuckling.

As you step out of the room, leaving behind the peculiar mix of companions, a sense of readiness fills you. The next phase of the Hunter Exam awaits, and with it, new challenges and opportunities. But for now, the brief interaction with Gon leaves a small, warm glow in your heart amidst the trials ahead.

☆

☆

Sweat trickled down the side of your face as you raced through the dense underbrush of the forest.

C'mon Y/N! You got this! Phase 4! You've come so far! You kept repeating the mantra in your head, pushing yourself harder.

Phase 4 of the Hunter Exam, taking place on Zevil Island, was unlike any challenge you had faced before. Each participant was assigned a target, their badge the key to progressing further. Your assigned target: number 405.

Gon.

As soon as you saw the number, recognition flooded you. The thought of hunting down the boy and taking his badge didn't sit right with you. Besides, you knew better than to underestimate the solidarity of his group. So, you chose the alternative route—gathering three badges to compensate for not pursuing Gon's.

So far, you had managed to collect two other badges. But your success had drawn unwanted attention. A mercenary, furious that you had inadvertently taken his target, was now hot on your heels, seeking both vengeance and the badges you carried.

You pushed through the forest, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. The sounds of the island were a distant blur, the rustle of leaves and distant animal calls fading behind the adrenaline-fueled pounding of your heart. You had to lose him, had to be smart. This wasn't just about survival in the exam anymore—it was about surviving period.

You glanced back, catching a fleeting glimpse of your pursuer weaving through the trees. His determination matched your own, but for vastly different reasons. With a deep breath, you surged forward, your mind racing as fast as your feet. You needed a plan, and you needed it fast. The stakes were high, and failure wasn't an option.

Your legs burned with exertion, each step more labored than the last. Realizing that running wasn't a sustainable option, you made a split-second decision. It was time to face your pursuer head-on. The alternative—constantly looking over your shoulder for the next three days—was a prospect filled with dread and uncertainty.

You veered off the path, heading towards an open field nearby. There, you turned to face the direction you had come from, your breathing heavy, but determined. This was it—a confrontation was inevitable.

Moments later, the mercenary emerged from the break in the trees, his approach confident, almost cocky. He sauntered into the clearing, a sly grin plastered on his face, clearly thinking he had the upper hand.

As he stepped into the open, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the field, creating an almost surreal backdrop for the impending battle. The air was still, the usual sounds of the forest seemingly holding their breath in anticipation.

You stood your ground, eyes fixed on the mercenary. Your hand instinctively reached for your weapon, gripping it tightly. The tension was palpable, a tangible force in the air between you two.

"You think you can take me?" the mercenary taunted, his voice a low hum in the heavy air. "A nobody thinks they can best me for a badge?"

"I don't think," you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of nerves inside you. "I know."

The battle commenced without another word. The forest became an arena, the trees pillars in the hall of combat. As you weave through the forest, the battle intensifies. The mercenary's knives are more than mere steel; they're extensions of his will, each strike aimed with deadly intent. You can almost feel the air parting as they whistle past, a mere hair's breadth from your skin.

"Can't touch me," you taunt under your breath, your voice a mix of bravado and focus. Your feet barely touch the ground as you dodge, pivot, and retaliate with a series of calculated blows and kicks.

The forest, with its towering trees and dappled sunlight, transforms into a blur around you. You're in the eye of the storm, where every breath is measured, every movement a dance with destiny. The mercenary lunges, and you hear the sharp intake of breath, the rustle of leaves underfoot—a symphony of survival.

Suddenly, pain sears through your shoulder, a sharp, hot line where his knife finds its mark. "Gotcha," he hisses, a shadowy figure with a smirk that chills your blood.

You grit your teeth, feeling the warm trickle of blood, a stark reminder of your mortality. You're a whirlwind of motion, each step an intricate part of this deadly dance, but the mercenary is a step ahead, his knives a blur of silver and shadow. You hear the slicing of air, feel the sting as one blade after another grazes your skin, leaving behind a trail of shallow cuts; blood beading on your arm creating a vivid contrast against your skin.

"I'm impressed," he taunts, his voice a low rumble in the chaos. "But not enough."

You dodge another swipe, the air humming with the missed connection. It's a relentless assault, and you're pushed to your limits, each movement driven by sheer willpower. The forest around you is both arena and witness, the rustling leaves a hushed audience to your struggle.

Then, a sharp pain seizes your side—a knife, lodged deep. You gasp, the shock almost buckling your knees. Your vision begins to blur, edges fringing with black. You hear your breathing, ragged and wet, each inhale tainted with the metallic tang of blood. It's like drowning on dry land, the taste of iron filling your mouth, a stark reminder of the blood you're losing. Your head spins, the forest around you swaying in a nauseating dance.

The mercenary looms closer, a shadow preying on your weakened state. "Looks like I got you, again~" he smirks, already reaching for another blade to finish the job.

The pain is intense, a burning fire in your side...but in this moment of despair, something within you stirs. A distant echo, the cries and shouts of your clan, resonating through the haze of pain. Their voices, filled with courage and defiance in their final stand against the Phantom Troupe, ignite a fire in your soul. It's a call to arms, a call to honor their memory.

You shake your head, clearing the fog of pain and despair. Your heart pounds in your chest, a drumbeat of survival. "For my clan," you whisper, the words a lifeline pulling you back from the edge of defeat.

Time seems to slow, each second stretching out as you summon the last reserves of your strength. With a deep, shuddering breath, you focus. The pain is still there, a constant companion, but now it fuels your resolve. You grip the hilt of the knife in your side, a grim determination setting in your features. With a swift, decisive motion, you pull it out, ignoring the fresh wave of pain that threatens to overwhelm you.

The mercenary pauses as his eyes widen, a flicker of surprise at your unwavering spirit. You can see the calculation in his gaze, the reassessment of his prey. But you don't afford him the luxury of time. With the last of your strength, you launch forward, using his momentary hesitation. Your movements are a blend of instinct and desperation, a final stand against the inevitable as you channel your pain into action

There's a clash of steel, a grunt of effort. The mercenary staggers back, his knife clattering to the ground. You stand there, breathing heavily, the pain in your side a constant throb, but you're still standing.

"You're... not bad," he concedes, a grudging respect in his voice as he eyes you warily, reassessing you at a closer distance as he tries to puts a few feet between the two of you.

You don't have time for words. You're wounded, every breath a battle, but this fight is yours. With a last effort, before he can gather his bearing and attack you once more, you advance, your own blade steady in your grip. The forest holds its breath, the final act about to unfold.

In a blur, you twist, your foot sweeping out in a calculated arc, knocking his legs from under him. The world tilts as you both crash to the forest floor. With a desperate, precise thrust, you drive your blade into the side of his neck.

The mercenary lets out a choked laugh, a grotesque symphony of pain and disbelief, as blood blooms from the wound and stains his lips. "Good luck, doll. You're gonna need it," he gasps, his voice a gurgling whisper.

Stiffly, you snatch his badge off of his shirt before staggering back, your legs shaky and unreliable. The forest spins around you, trees blurring into indistinct shapes as you bump into them, each impact a jolt of pain. Your vision dims, the edges closing in, a tunnel of darkness encroaching as blood loss takes its toll.

You push forward, each step a battle against the relentless pull of your injuries. The forest, once a vibrant tapestry of green and gold, now seems muted, the colors fading as your strength wanes. Your breathing is ragged, a harsh symphony punctuated by the throb of your wounded side. You can taste blood in your mouth, the iron tang a stark reminder of the price you've paid.

The ground beneath your feet feels unsteady, as if you're walking through a dream. You lean against a tree, its bark rough under your palm, seeking a moment's respite. The texture under your palm is a reminder of that you're still here, despite the overwhelming pain that roars in your ear. You close your tightly eyes, willing yourself to stay conscious, to keep moving.

In the haze of exhaustion, your mind drifts, not to the pain or the blood you've shed, but to the deeper meaning of your struggle. You realize—even in this weakened state—that your victory extends beyond the physical realm. You've honored your heritage, upheld the values and legacy of your clan. Their voices, which once echoed faintly in the recesses of your memory, now resound within you, clear and strong, filling you with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

And in this quiet moment, if you focus just enough, you can almost sense the presence of your parents. It's as if their voices whisper in the wind—congratulating you—their words a soothing balm to your battered spirit. You imagine the warmth of their hands enveloping you in an embrace of love and approval. Their presence, though intangible, is a vivid sensation that momentarily lessens the physical pain, filling you with a sense of peace and the strength to persevere.

You reach into your pockets to fetch the source of your physical pain—those stupid badges. And since your recent victory with the mercenary, you know had all the points needed to succeed to the next phase.

"...you're gonna need it..." The mercenary's last words rings in your ears, haunting you; a prophecy or a curse, you can't tell.

You clutched the badges like a lifeline as your vision blurred, the edges darkening, and in that encroaching shadow, you saw him—Kurapika.

At first, you thought he was a figment of your imagination, but his gasp cut through the silence of the forest, a soft but sharp intake of breath that seemed to pierce the veil of your pain.

"Your eyes..." Kurapika's voice was a thread of sound, woven with shock and a dawning realization as he approached cautiously, his footsteps barely a whisper on the forest floor. "...Kurta?" Kurapika murmured, the word laced with uncertainty and disbelief.

As your eyes met his, a visible change overtook him. His gaze intensified, the hue of his eyes deepening into a vivid red, mirroring the tumult of emotions within as he recognized the truth before him.

Your state was dire, a vivid canvas of your recent battle. Blood was smeared across the side of your face, stark against your skin, and your eyes were unfocused, hazy with pain and the effort to remain conscious. Kurapika's steps faltered, a mix of shock and concern etching his features as he kneeled beside you.

You couldn't help but look into his eyes—praying that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. And there you saw it, a reflection of your own—a crimson shade that told a story of loss and of a lineage almost erased from the world. The sight of his crimson eyes ignited a glimmer of hope within you. You weren't alone; another Kurta still walked this earth.

His hands hovered over your broken form, trembling slightly, betraying his inner turmoil. He was mumbling, words lost in a stream of consciousness, as if he were trying to piece together the reality before him.

You attempted to speak—to express your happiness—but the effort was too much. Blood trickled from the corner of your lips, and a pained sigh escaped you as you tried to shift away from your injured side. Kurapika's reaction was immediate, a soft, soothing coo escaping him. "It's okay, don't push yourself; you don't have to saying anything. I'm here," he reassured, his voice a calming presence in the chaos of your agony.

But the darkness was calling, an embrace that promised respite from the pain. You leaned into it, even as Kurapika's voice became the anchor trying to hold you in the light. "No more worries," he whispered, his hands warm against the cool touch of your skin. "You'll be safe with me."

With the last of you strength, you whispered a faint, "...okay..." before falling unconscious.

As the shadows embraced you, Kurapika's world became a whirlwind of emotion, and you slipped into unconsciousness, cradled in his arms. His hands, now protectors, held you close, your head against his chest. His fingers grazed your skin, feeling the rise and fall of your labored breaths, his touch a silent vow against the dark.

"No, not again," he murmured to himself, a haunted lullaby for two souls intertwined by fate and tragedy. His arms tightened around you, as if his embrace alone could shield you from the world's cruelty. "I can't... I won't let it happen again."

The memory of his clan—of crimson eyes dimmed forever—flashed in his mind, an echo of the past threatening to repeat itself. He rocked gently, a motion born from an instinct to comfort, to soothe, even as his own heart screamed in anguish.

In the quiet forest, he leaned back and beheld your face—brown skin illuminated by the moon's touch, your hair a soft crown of twisted locks framing your peaceful expression. His fingertips traced the contours of your face with reverence, a silent apology to every moment he had unknowingly left you alone in a world that had taken so much from both of you.

"You're here," he whispered, more to himself than to you, a prayer in the solitude. "You're alive, and as long as I breathe, I will fight for you... with you. I will not let this light go out."

Kurapika's breath was a warm whisper against your skin as he nosed the side of your face. His hands, trembling with an intensity born of fear and love, cupped your cheek gently, as his eyes fluttered closed, savoring a fleeting moment of bliss amid the chaos.

A rustle in the underbrush broke the stillness, and Leorio's voice cut through the quiet. "Kurapika? What happened? Are you—"

His words hung unfinished as he stumbled into the clearing, his eyes landing on the two of you. Kurapika's head snapped up, his eyes glowing fiercely, a reflection of the turmoil within.

"Kurapika, your eyes..." Leorio's voice was thick with concern and confusion.

"They are the eyes of my clan," Kurapika stated, the flames in his eyes not dimming but burning brighter with resolve. "And she shares them. She shares my pain, my burden. She is Kurta, and I will not fail her as I failed... the others."

Leorio stepped forward, his intentions clear and his resolve unshakable. "We'll help her, Kurapika. We're going to get through this. Together," he stated firmly, ready to extend his hand and offer his strength.

But Kurapika's reaction was immediate and sharp, a sudden tension seizing his body. "No," he said quickly, almost vehemently, his voice low and possessive. "She's mine to protect. She's a Kurta—my responsibility." His words cut through the air, a clear boundary drawn in the wake of Leorio's offer.

Leorio halted, confusion etching his features as he assessed his friend's guarded posture and the fierce, protective glare that seemed out of place on Kurapika's usually composed face.

"Kurapika, we're all friends here," Leorio tried to reason, his concern growing with each passing second. "We want to help—"

"No, Leorio!" Kurapika's interruption was firm, brooking no argument. "She's not just anyone. Our pain is shared, our past... our vengeance." His arms instinctively tightened around you, his movements a physical manifestation of his unspoken vow to protect you.

Leorio's brow furrowed, the weight of Kurapika's isolation dawning on him. Yet, he understood the unspoken language of trauma that seemed to emanate from Kurapika's every pore.

There was a silent promise exchanged in the look that passed between them, a pact made under the witness of stars and stillness. With a slow nod, he stepped back, giving space and respect to the silent plea for solitude and stewardship that Kurapika was asserting.

"We'll be here... when you're ready," Leorio conceded, offering support in his retreat, an acknowledgment of Kurapika's unyielding will to be the shield, the keeper of the last of his clan.

In the quiet that followed, Kurapika's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his demeanor shifting from defensive to tender. "I will keep you safe," he whispered, as if the words were a talisman against the world. "You are mine to defend, and I will lay down my life before I see this light extinguished."

He gently cupped the back of your head, drawing you in closer, until your head nestled securely beneath his chin. The side of his chin acted as a shield, a subtle yet powerful barrier, symbolizing his determination to guard you against any harm.

He would keep you safe, no matter what storms may come, for in you, he had found a piece of hope—a precious echo of a home lost to whispers and to time.

🙈🙈hehehe just me being delusional as usual, carry on

[gaybitchfx]

✰𝓩. 𝓘𝓵𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓲✰

you showed me things—★

I've only seen in dreams

★—and there's something magic

about this whole thing —alice phoebe lou

𝓣𝓦: a/b/o au, spelling and grammar errors, intentional lowercase

✰ ILLUMI who was forced to attend a ball by his family due to them wanting an heir and for him to get married as the eldest son of the zoldyck family, a very well known last name amongst the kingdoms.. all the different scents there bothered him, some smelt musky, others smelt artificial but there was one that stood out from the rest. it was sweet and bitter at the same time. before he could even follow the scent your parents came with big smiles on their faces. “good afternoon, mr. zoldyck.” your mother and father said before moving their daughter, your sister, in front of them. “good afternoon.” she said with a smile that mimicked her parents. “afternoon.” he said plainly as he looked over the three, he found their smiles irritating, but didn’t say anything as to not be rude. “i’ve heard your here to look for a potential wife.” your mother said as she glanced at her daughter. she looked like a chandelier had gone wrong due to her wearing far too much jewelry. “yes, i am. now if you’ll excuse me i have something to do.” he said as he bowed his head a little before walking away to go and look for the person who had that peculiar scent.

✰ ILLUMI who was now struggling to find them grew agitated. it was as if whoever had that scent kept moving around farther and farther away from him making them hard to find. it didn’t help how your sister and parents kept pestering him, it was clear they wanted her to marry him and be apart of the zoldyck family since it came with benefits. as your parents talked to him the scent grew closer and more stronger until—“mom, when are we going home?” you asked as you yawned, arms folded over your chest as you had a look of annoyance spreading over your features. it finally clicked, you were the one producing such a sweet and bitter scent that drew illumi. his gaze stayed on you as he looked you over, examining your features and your attire, you were the youngest amongst your family. “not now (name).” your mother said through gritted teeth as she looked at you with a smile, of course it was fake. “so, your name is (name)?” illumi finally said as he approached you abruptly. “yeah? who’s askin’?” you mumbled as you looked at him with a raised brow.

✰ ILLUMI who was beyond happy and ecstatic to have finally found the person with the scent he’s been looking for all night. he was also happy that you were quiet the beauty as well and an omega nonetheless. it was clear your family was upset that he was now paying attention to you, even the look on his face annoyed them due to it h showing how interested he was in you. “may i take your hand in marriage and make you my wife?” he asked, his tone soft as he examined your face, noticing how your eyebrows raised and how your eyes widened just a smidge. “but..but your highness, he’s our youngest (20yrs) let alone a male omega, why not take our daughters hand in marriage? she could—” “no thank you.” he said sternly, cutting your father off making a look of shock spread across his and his wife’s face. “so, (name), do you take the offer?” he asked as he gently took his hand in yours. you glanced over at your parents who were enraged and hoping you wouldn’t agree to his proposal. but of course you felt like being petty since they never really paid attention to you and this was your only opportunity to actually have some recognition in this damn family. “yes, i’ll accept your proposal.” you said with a smile, illumi’s scent had a hint of excitement to it as he nodded his head. “very well, tomorrow we’ll have all your items transferred to the zoldyck families kingdom. as for the wedding it’ll be in a weeks time, i want to marry you as soon as possible.” he said as he released your hand, a small smile forming on his lips as he looked at you.

✰—tags: @jkloserdazai @reallyromealone @lostsomewhereinthegarden

[chrollohearttags]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫: 𝐡𝐱𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏/𝟑)

extra incentive • c. lucifer

synopsis: your study buddy has always been the laid back type, never really showing interest in anything other than books…that is until the two of you decide to relieve some stress before an upcoming exam.

“You know what they say about the quiet ones. Is it true?” “You’re more than welcome to come find out.”

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content warning: modern/college au, black fem reader, fingering, hair pulling, corruption (ish) kink unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), riding, squirting, choking, nerd!Chrollo, talk of sex/inexperience

word count: 3.8K

this is the first installment to a three part commission from @annie-franny. Thank you so much for your support and entrusting me with this piece! HunterxHunter is my all time favorite show and I’m happy to be writing for some of my favorite characters. Hope you enjoy, love! 💕

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faint raindrops rang outside the windowpane of the fourth floor dormitory..co-ed and co-opted by bright eyed, eager attendees of Yorknew State College. A learning facility of the highest caliber; regarded in the ranks of Cambridge and Oxford in terms of intelligence. Among those in the top bracket of brilliant minds were none other than Chrollo Lucifer. A prodigal genius who came from very humble beginnings and managed to secure a full ride scholarship to the school due to his exceptional educational achievements. Including two award winning literary dissertations on inequality and disproportionate educational opportunities in lower income neighborhoods. A life he knew all too well. Doing so while only being a senior in a vocational school. A man who was as handsome as he was mysterious, leaving many to wonder how he ended up at such a prestigious place. His knowledge only ascended from there and now, he sat as a shoe-in for valedictorian and alongside him was the only person who could probably be considered his equal and quite honestly, one of his only friends.

(Y/N) (L/N), a bright eyed beauty with a kind soul and kindred spirit. Born with an innate gift for reading and all things literature related, you excelled above your peers in no time, surpassing even the most intelligent in every subject. You would spend your lunchtime in the library, grasping every novel, book or composition pertaining to the studies of history; more so specifically your own that the school system refused to teach. Such a curious mind so it came as a surprise to no one when doing college applications, you were among the first to receive an acceptance letter from Yorknew State College nonetheless. Somehow, someway..you and Lucifer ended up intertwining and crossing paths in the campus bookstore. Where a bond formed and you’ve been close ever since, bouncing off ideas, sharing your love of reading and always studying together..hence why now, he was seated in the middle of your floor, cross legged and glued to a textbook as he tapped the back of his pen to the edge of the small table in front of him.

“Damn, Chro. You’re gonna drive me up a wall with that. You’ve been doing it for the past ten minutes.” An obviously irate (y/n) blurting out from the comfort of your bed, knees cradled to your chest with your laptop secured on top of them. You weren’t one to be on edge ever but in comparison to this man, he’d make even the most serene person look mad. Never even getting angry once in all the time you had known him, he truly had the patience of a saint. Oftentimes leaving you to wonder would anything make him tick..

“Oh, I’m sorry, (y/n). Didn’t even realize it. I’ll stop.”

but today, you were both a bit nervous, due in part to a huge assignment coming up in your most important course. One that would determine many things going forward for both of you. More so in terms of personal achievements but important nonetheless. In a frustrated huff, you’d close your computer and slump over, releasing a whiny sigh. “Ugh, I can’t wait for this stupid test to be over. I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I’ve read at least ten different books in the past two days. My head is about to explode.” As dramatic as it sounded, Chrollo most certainly mirrored your sentiments, even if he wasn’t as expressive of it. An exam with over two hundred questions pertaining various works throughout time on random subjects and you’d have to quote excerpts, pick out lines from precise chapters and remember not only the details but page numbers as well. It was so much. “Patience, my sweet (y/n). We’ll knock this exam out of the park and it’ll be done before you know it.”

but luckily you had one another to bounce ideas off of and keep each other accountable. However, it wasn’t lost on you that it was Saturday evening and you were spending it holed up in a room, studying. Normally, it was something that never really crossed your mind. Truthfully, a lot of your peers lacked focus and drive. Not too worried about their failures or fuck ups because they had a silver spoon awaiting them if they couldn’t feed themselves. It infuriated Chrollo and thus, he withdrew even more from his classmates. Isolated and feeling like a loner, he clung to you like a moth to a flame shockingly. So much so, he had eyes for no one else. Even when girls all around campus practically threw themselves at him constantly and had paid them no mind. Dating, relationships, hookups…it all seemed like such a hassle. Trivial things that served him no purpose. He much rather be nose deep in a book, expanding his knowledge than doing anything else. Still, he’d be lying if he said his mind didn’t wander from time to time…

about that girl with these wired rim, round glasses…concealing those dark, deep set eyes. Black coils setting pretty atop your head, skin like honey of the richest variety…needless to say, Chrollo was rather smitten and it wasn’t an honor that he wielded loosely. It took a lot to catch the eyes of the prodigal genius. So when you posed a rather peculiar question, he was a bit nervous to answer.

“Hey, Chro?”

“Yes?”

turning his attention towards you with his signature flat smile..those handsome boyish looks that always caused a flutter or two in your heart. Jet black tufts fluttering on either side of his porcelain smooth face, tied by a headband to keep strays tucked back. Tonight, sporting a hoodie with the school insignia along with a pair of gym shorts covering his lanky frame. It was easy to see why he had everyone’s attention.

“Why don’t we ever go to any parties? Are we like the only ones on campus reading like an old couple on a Saturday night?” However, it wasn’t something that phased him in the slightest and rather than being offended, Chrollo would just laugh and flip to the next page of his very intriguing novel.

“You’re free to go if you’d like, no one’s stopping you from attending any of them.” Stating so matter of factly without so much as even glancing in your direction. To most, things like that came off as condescending but you knew that he just didn’t show much emotion about anything. If you asked him a question, he’d simply answer it with no motive or malice behind it. It was something that initially frustrated you but that you had now grown to love. As with many things about this enigma of a man. Slouching off of the bed, (y/n) crawled a few feet over to him, slinging an arm around the back of his neck in a flustered huff. “I knowww, but they wouldn’t even be fun without you.” “I couldn’t understand why. I’m not much for gatherings so I’d be nothing more than a wallflower..if anything, I’d be rather boring." That's when you’d probe him with another question, still hanging onto his slender frame..your head resting on his back. With your hands coiling his chest, you could feel his heart racing and obviously, nothing ever got him excited but it was something so different about you. He wasn’t much for affection or physical touch but somehow, he didn’t mind when you held him. You guys were incredibly close and comfortable so it came as no surprise that you’d ask him such a thing with no shame. “…Chro..are you a virgin?”

causing the dark haired man to choke up in laughter. You two rarely ever kept secrets from one another but then again, most information relayed between you guys was pertaining to academics and knowledge. None of this trivial nonsense. However, something must’ve sparked this sudden curiosity about his intimate life. “That’s a bit invasive, don’t you think?” “Just answer the question please.” obvious that you were going to persist on this, he’d release a deep breath and shut his book, turning to properly face you as he gave you his response. “If you must know…no, I am not a virgin.” He was, however, completely celibate until the proper person came along and changed it. Even so, it shocked you and he’d cackle, wondering why your mouth was agape.

“What? Are you surprised?” And as horrible as it sounded to admit, you were a bit taken aback. “A little bit! Just doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d be into. No offense.” You figured him to be completely clueless on the topic of sex but alas, he had been with two people in his young lifetime. Some woman he lost his virginity to and a girl he hooked up with in a one off exchange. Neither time was some profound experience that kept him coming back for more or even drew him closer to the girls. It was just something that happened and it wasn’t something that he had ever pondered on. However, spending the last year or so growing closer to you had his mind wandering. Believe it or not, he was rather smitten with you. The only one to really make him take a second look nowadays. Watching you switch around in those frilly dresses and tight little skirts, looking all cute and bubbly. He’d oftentimes find himself blushing as he watched you part your curls, moisturizing them after wash day. Even offering to help..just because he enjoyed your presence. Carrying your stuff to class and always lingering around, waiting on you to get out as if you were still in high school. How you hadn’t seen it yet was beyond him. Hence why he didn’t do random hookups..you were the sole object of his carnal desires when they arose. Like this current moment.

“None taken. But I have to ask, why the sudden inquisition?..something on your mind?” Questioning so casually with that soft smug smirk on his face. He had to know where this was coming from. Roping a hand around his shoulder blade and collar bone, (y/n) teased his black wefts between your fingertips and giggled. There were a lot of things running through your mind at this point. Things that you weren’t certain you should say out loud…out of fear of rejection or sounding too forward. But since you could trust one another so well…there was no point in hiding it.

“You could say that..I guess what I’m trying to say is..I could use a distraction for a while.” Admitting as you teased your fingertips across his chest. And it didn’t take long for him to pick up the hint you had so blatantly thrown down. Flicking his tongue across his lips, Chrollo ogled back at you for a moment, turning to tip your chin up. It was obvious that there was rising tension between you two that could only be solved one way. That festering desire wasn’t going to disappear unless one of you acted on it.

“So what you’re saying is..” talking so smoothly that in one fell swoop, Chrollo was able to spin and capture you in his grasp, landing both of you on the carpet, his body atop yours and your faces only mere inches apart. “You want me to fuck you? Is that it?” Having never heard him use such brash language. Either way, it was so attractive and sexy. There was a certain glare in his eyes, as if he too had been waiting on this moment. Snaking a hand up your outer thigh, he’d crawl slowly between your parted legs. He wanted you and desperately, all you had to do was give him the say so and he’d dispel any and all preconceived notions you’d had about him. “I mean…I’m simply hoping to test a theory. You do know what they say about the quiet ones. Is it true?” “You’re more than welcome to come find out.”

with that, it was all the declaration you needed. The two of you began engaging in a heated makeout session. Cupping your hands to his face, shoving your tongues into each other’s mouths…trying to peel back layers of one another’s clothing. Swirling them around one another in a flustered haze. Moaning and whimpering whilst things became much more intense. It didn’t take long for either of you to render the other nude or even find your hands roaming all over your entangled bodies…his hands on your hips, running along the seams of your clothing. Sharp gasps elicited by subtle neck sucking; the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin…even whimpering and tossing your head back when he’d glide down to your nipples, faintly licking them just to make you shudder. He’d then work his way between your thighs, glaring up at you with those usually cold, dark eyes; so full of life and lust as he hungrily parted your thighs. His primal instincts took over in an instant. As were your own. “..look at that. So sexy..” in reference to that slick covered slit and swollen pearl protruding through those plump lips. A sight like he had never witnessed before; it was beautiful. “You won’t be mad if I get a taste, will you?” Shaking your head with a slight whimper, anticipating his next move. Mere seconds later, you’d find him greedily feasting on your soaked sex. Flicking his tongue so delicately throughout the sensitive area; teasing the clit, sucking on those folds and leaving soft kisses on that pretty pussy of yours. “Haah!—ahh, Chro! Fuck!..” crying out in a fit of pleasure, sandwiching his head between your hands. Curling your fingers through his soft hair, gently tugging at them but trust, he needed no assistance. “You taste so sweet, my love.” Not with the way he was sloppily spitting and lapping on your cunt. He was so skilled and intricate with the way he did it, you were sure you’d be seeing stars. “Mmmm! Ahh..” making all of those pitiful babbling noises that were only further fueling his desire to devour you. Fucking you tirelessly with his tongue. Feasting until your legs began to shake violently and those sweet nectar-like fluids could no longer be contained and you’d find yourself coming on his tongue..squirting from his impeccable oral. You’d cover your face, in half embarrassment and shock as it riddled your body. “Don’t be shy now, let me see that pretty face..” It wasn’t until he came up for air, his hands softly groping at your breasts did it really dawn on the two of you what was transpiring. But it was a tad bit too late to back out now. Instead, he’d shift to his side midway, propping your smaller frame up on his thigh as to balance you against it. That docile demeanor seemed to dissipate before your eyes and a side you’d never think to see began to awaken..one you’d like very much.

“You see, my sweet (y/n)…what I lack isn’t knowledge, not by a long shot. But experience..experience with the right person.” declaring so sweetly as he stroked the side of your face to help you calm down from your climatic high, only to induce another. Working those pale, slender digits between your jaws and whirled them around. “See..I know things that would make your body tick. Things that would send you into shock and make you cry my name out to the heavens. I would make love to you in ways that would cause your soul to erupt into flames. Every little movement, I’d make certain you fell deeper for me..so addicted that you won’t even dream of another man touching you..alas, I never found that person.” was a mere taste of what I’m capable of.”

all the while he was speaking to you, filling your ear and head with perverse thoughts, Chrollo’s opposite hand snaked around your throat and his eyes averted downward. By now, you were a drooling mess…letting that trail lube your already dripping folds as he shoved those same digits inside of you..working them around. “Hnghh!” “Shhh..just relax.” But he wouldn’t be the only one at work. Soon, he’d instruct you to grasp at his exposed member and coil your fingers around his shaft, slowly working it over. Not for nothing, but he wasn’t lacking in size either..girthy and thick but long also. That pink tip emitting pearlescent white precum. You were so needy and impatient, wanting to feel him right away but it wasn’t plausible. He doubted that you couldn’t even take it…

“That is until now. Until I met you, (y/n). I’ve dreamed of this moment and having you all to myself..now I’ve gotten it.” grunting into your ear, sucking on his teeth as you continued to massage him between your fingertips. Neither of you could maintain this charade of teasing much longer so with one final kiss to your temple, Chrollo hoisted you up ever so slightly, barely breaking the contact of your skin and gave one last command:

“Go ahead, put it in yourself.”

something about that primal energy he was tapping into really turned you on. Making you yelp while you worked yourself down to his aching tip. Pulsating as it split you open..causing you both to audibly gasp once it met the silky warmth of your insides. He had to all but restrain himself from hammering up into you but it had been quite some time since he felt a sensation like this one. “Mmmm…God, you’re so tight. But don’t worry..I won’t go too fast. We’ll take our time until you can fit all of me. We won’t rush it.”

talking you through those movements his palms placed to your hips and your back to his chest. It was while you were becoming one and getting acclimated with those strokes did he begin to buck upward very gently; meeting you halfway while giving you steamy, sloppy tongue kisses. You couldn’t stop moaning into his open mouth and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wanted to squeeze on those beautiful breasts, pinch your nipples between his fingertips and especially, massage that swollen clit. Although, he’d save that last one for the right moment. You’d more than likely come entirely too quickly. So he’d settle for giving you affirmations to keep you going. Bouncing up and down on his dick, trying to eventually make it disappear inside of that pretty pink flesh. But as it stood, you could only take it about halfway to the hilt. Sounds of squelching and colliding flesh filled your tiny room and right there on that floor, your bodies clashed in heated ecstasy and bliss. Eventually, he was able to push it in a bit more before you found an established rhythm. “Keep going. Yes..you’re doing so good. Riding me like this…and you’re creaming all over it. Are you going to milk me too, sweetheart?” Cooing whilst sucking on his teeth, tossing his head back in pure pleasure. That pussy was something special and he wanted to savor it for as long as possible.

“Yes, ‘wanna make you come for me…fuck!” Whimpering so pathetically and sweetly, it made his cock twitch..that throbbing, continuing to fill your flesh. By now, the two of you had established a synchronized rhythm and pace. (Y/N) riding him, rolling your hips and subtly shaking your ass; standing atop your tiptoes even, when he fucked you. “Ooh, just like that. Look at how nicely you’re taking me now. Opening up so good..” now gripping the thick of your plump ass, now starting to thrust upward. He was enjoying your little tricks and show but he couldn’t hold back any longer. Having not been releasing pent up energy or realizing that he needed to, Chrollo was coming undone by the second, rutting his hips into you with that firm grip. “You don’t have to hold back, sweetheart. Come..make a mess of me. Let it all out..” with that affirmation, you’d release every drop of your sweet, squirting cum..as well as any stress or agitation in your body. Those much needed endorphins rushing through your systems. Spent and out of breath, you’d collapse against one another right there on the floor..panting and laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time either of you had felt this good.

“That was…something.”

“Yes it was..”

most certainly agreeing on that front. Something that was beneficial for the both of you. Now he felt as if they were able to conquer anything after that. And so did you!..clutching your arm, he’d gently caress it and kiss your forehead. “Well I suppose that’s one way to clear your mind.” Making the joke as he turned to face you, staring at you in a way he’d never stared at anyone in his entire life. Because in all honesty, he had never shared a connection like that with anyone. He’d never been one for a relationship or even casually hooking up..his sole focus was academics but after this? He felt as if he could make an exception for his favorite person perhaps. Clasping your fingers together, Chrollo made another declaration, one you couldn’t refuse. “I don't know about you, but I’m ready for this test now. My head is ten times more clear than it was.” “I’m glad to hear it. Tell you what…pass it and I have much more where that came from.” Just then, your features illuminated with a sparkle he had never quite seen in those beautiful eyes of yours..

“Mmm..I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.”

giving you all the extra incentive you need.

[randoimago]

Meruem, Pitou and Uvogin with gremlin S/O, please? Like that Kingdom Hearts request.

With a Gremlin S/O

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Character(s): Mereum, Pitou, Uvogin

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Whoo first HxH request !!

Meruem

He does not appreciate your gremlin energy. Especially when he's trying to get something done and you're being a distraction.

You're his S/O so he won't hurt you. He thinks about it but sighs and asks you to try and sit still for another minute. If you really want to be chaotic then he'll find a human for you to play with. Might just task Pitou to babysit you.

His personality just doesn't match with your chaotic nature. That said, if he is in the mood to fight something or show his power then he'll take you along just to let you run around a bit and get your energy out.

Pitou

Oh they absolutely want to be a gremlin with you. The idea of play wrestling or just causing chaos to others sounds great to them.

There are a couple times when Pitou will ask that you save it for later. It's very difficult for them to request that as they want nothing more than to join you, but the situation calls for other things.

Sometimes, they will just watch you and see how you decide to be a gremlin for that day. Pitou might join you, but they might not. They just find it amusing to watch.

Uvogin

He's a chaotic bastard so your gremlin energy compliments him well. Will just carry you on his shoulders while you direct him to find whatever chaos awaits you both.

There are times when he'll just stay back and cheer you on. If someone bigger than you tries to step in because your gremlin energy is too strong then Uvo will gladly take a step closer to you just to intimidate the other person to back off.

If he's in a mood or doesn't have the energy for your gremlin energy then he'll throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and just carry you around. That way you can be like his backpack that yells at people while he's going about his day.

[vampi-fixx]

day 4, illumi: sexting

kinktobruary day 4

illumi zoldyck x reader // hunter x hunter

summary: while you consider yourself a fairly well adjusted and versatile person, you have needs. needs that transcend the boring, missionary-style, often impersonal sex the two of you have. which is why one day, you mention to him: “illu… let’s spice up our sex life.” 

he turns to you with a pensive frown.

“since when have seasonings belonged in sex?”

tw/cw: 18+ only, minors dni, sexting (attempted), phone sex, dirty talk (attempted)

--note: i’ve done it. i’ve created the crackiest illumi smut. probably ooc. the only way illumi would agree to this. also the only way Illumi would have a boo who isn’t the result of an arranged marriage/who his fam doesn’t kill. hopefully not too unbelievable ahslfjh

word count: 2.4K

You consider yourself to be a rather open-minded person. Your romantic interests range from the guy next door to world-class athletes. Of course, that’s how you somehow end up smack-dab in the middle of that range with Illumi Zoldyck, a member of one of the world’s most feared assassin families. How your paths crossed and you got together was a thing of chance and luck. While his wooing of you consisted of him admitting, with a blank stare, “I suppose you wouldn’t be the worst person to marry,” you typically enjoyed a different approach, a more romantic one. (“Later on, dear, maybe two years down the line,” you responded, entwining your hands together. He seemed unamused.)

However, Illumi and romance are like two planets constantly orbiting each other, never crossing paths. He thinks of anniversaries as nothing more than days on a page, and it’s only after much prodding and hinting from you that you find a bouquet of flowers on your bedside table, the card accompanying it bearing a sparse, generic message in what looked suspiciously like Gotoh’s handwriting Illumi’s cursive.

Anything else about romance, he hardly bothers to learn. Or rather, he has no interest in. After meeting his family in what was possibly the most awkward dinner ever (his younger, portly brother made disparaging remarks about your figure, his father said nothing, but his steel gaze seemed to judge every aspect of your appearance, and his mother gave you an endless stream of backhanded compliments), you can see why Illumi is so... detached. He had to be, to be able to deal with these unhinged family members.

And you try to be understanding. But you soon learn with Illumi that if you aren’t vocal, he tends to forget about you. And while you consider yourself a fairly-well adjusted and versatile person, you have needs. Needs that transcend the boring, missionary-style, impersonal sex the two of you often have. Which is why one day, you mention to him: “Illu… let’s spice up our sex life.”

He turns to you with a pensive frown.

“Since when have seasonings belonged in sex?”

“Ah...”

It appears you have your work cut out for you. 

—

Your first attempt to diversify your sex life involves sexting. Something simple and easy, right? Even the most obtuse of men could understand how to respond to a risque message. Plus, Illumi always responded when you asked him to grab cookies on the way home, telling you to get it yourself, or that Gotoh, his bitch, was already on it.

“Hey there, handsome. Whatcha wearing?” you send him.

He responds soon enough. “(Y/N), you saw me two weeks ago. I am wearing the exact same outfit.”

Undeterred, you try again. “Whatcha wearing under that?”

“Undergarments.”

Maybe this approach isn’t working for you.

The next day, you try again.

“Thinking of you…. ;)”

That garners no response for several hours, and when he finally does respond, it’s a mere, “OK.” With all caps.

You decide to step up your efforts. The next time you text him somewhat scandalous photo of you, in only an oversized shirt of his and panties. You angle the picture so that the focus is on the way your curves press against the material, and the way his shirt rides up on your stomach to show a peek of flesh with that black lace. It takes you probably close to an hour to pose in a way that looks suggestive enough, but not overtly seductive. You don’t want to scare off his inexperienced sensibilities, and risk spurning him. Then you click send.

The text you receive back is wordy, compared to his usual ones. “It is not wise to save such pictures of yourself on your phone, when you can easily be hacked.” You can practically smell the disapproval through the phone screen.

Frustrated and more than a little worked up from the imagined, idealresponses to your text you were envisioning, involving him responding with some equal kind of ardor—or as much as Illumi could muster up—you call him; to your surprise, he picks up.

“(Y/N),” he greets, not even sounding the slightest bit aroused, or bothered by your photos. Your eye twitches unconsciously.

There’s a cacophony of sounds in the background. “Illumi, what are you—” Screams, bodies slamming into each other. The ring of something metallic slicing through the air, accompanied by choked groans.

“I’m in the middle of a kill,” he says casually. “Normally, I wouldn’t entertain such calls, but I do think it is important to impress on you the odds of your phone getting hacked.”

Illumi spends a good fifteen minutes lecturing on you how easy it would be for Milluki to hack your phone and spread your risqué photos online, and only ends the conversation once you promise him you’ll delete all them.

But of course, once you end the call, you’re backing up those pictures, because it’s not often you look this fine. Illumi doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.

—

Later that night, to your surprise, he’s the one to call you. But the timing of his call is less than ideal. Still clothes in your getup from earlier, your fingers are just about to delve into your panties when your phone lights up with his name. You glower at it, debating whether or not you’ll even give him the time of day, much less your personal time. Out of even greater frustration with him, however, and the slightest hope that something good may come out of this, you answer.

“Yes?”

“Are you occupied?”

Occupied. How you wish you were, but since he isn’t here, and he threw away your dildo stash once he found it...

“Oh no,” you say, more than a touch irritated at the memory, and of his imperviousness to your attempts. “I was just in the middle of deleting all my risqué photos, because god knows they end up on the internet somehow from your brother hacking my phone.”

You can just picture his nod. “A wise decision.”

You scowl at him through the phone screen. There’s a pause. He seems to sense something amiss. “Were you about to take part in something?”

“Goodbye!” You end the call swiftly, tossing your phone to the side.

When he calls again, you’ve only managed a few strokes to your clit, just barely on the edge of starting to feel something. You know it’s him; you don’t bother responding. However, when the phone starts ringing again, you snatch the phone, putting it to your ear.

“What?”

He’s silent for a beat. “Are you pleasuring yourself?”

Your mouth goes dry. For some reason, his usual flat tone combined with the question has shame creeping up your spine. “I—“ Your silence is the answer.

What sounds like cloth shifting—was he getting comfortable? Lounging in a bed as well? “I… would not be averse to you sending me more images like that last one.”

Your mind stutters to a halt, gears locking. “Provided you still have them,” he continues. “I assumed... well, you always find ways around my orders, anyways. “

And then the gears are starting up again. “Didn’t you just say—”

“I—know what I said.” Illumi’s usual flat tone has a slight inflection to it. He sounds just as out of his element as you feel. “Given the circumstances, I don’t think it’s wise. However….”

At this point you can hear the slightest rustle of clothing, the hint of illumi’s measured breathing not being quite so. He’s an assassin, he knows how to control his body as well as others, yet still—

“Are you—are you also…”

“It has been awhile since we last saw each other,” he answers, sounding somewhat distracted.

It’s quiet, awkwardly so. Clearly Illumi has no idea how to proceed, so you caution. “What are you thinking of?”

“I am waiting for you to provide me with stimuli,” he says bluntly.

You try not to falter in your approach, opting for a different route. “I didn’t know you masturbated.”

“I…. I never made a habit of it, but lately…” He quiets as he becomes aware of the slight squelching sounds of your finger stroking along the walls of your entrance. You can’t help it; just the thought of your taciturn, sexually repressed lover jerking himself off to the thought of you...

“What are you inserting? Inside of you.”

“My fingers,” you say, your voice growing more breathy.

“I—”

“Someone threw me away my toys.” You send him a withering look through the phone.

“You don’t need those things.”

“If only my fiance wasn’t gone so often I wouldn’t.”

His next words are inflected with a curious kind of pensivity. “You would like me to be home more often.” It’s not a question but it does sound like one.

“Yes, I would. I miss you, Ilu. These nights gets so lonely without you. And your—” Your breath catches as you stroke a spot inside you that has your toes curling. “Your touch.”

“I am an assassin. It’s my job to be away.” He hesitates. “However... you are my fiancée. You are also, in a sense, my responsibility.”

The admission is as earnest as a confession you’ll ever get out of him.

“T-tell me, Ilu,” you gasp. “What do you want to be responsible for?”

“Your... sexual gratification.”

Illumi’s flat, bland tone doesn’t naturally invoke sexiness, but you’re so starved for responsiveness that it sounds like it to you.

You’re louder now, moaning softly into the receiver, and Illumi doesn’t say anything, but you do hear more of fabric rustling. You can just picture him uncovering his length, stroking it slightly, unsurely, as if he’s not sure himself if he should be doing this.

It’s a risky attack, but you know this isn’t his area of expertise, so you ask.

“Illu… are you touching yourself?”

“I am,” he states, matter-of-factly.

“What are you thinking of?”

“I…” He pauses. “...You.” Youto let him press on, but when he doesn’t, you continue.

“What… about me, Illu?”

He sighs, as if it’s a chore to state the obvious. “Your snugness. When I enter you. It’s…” you can just picture his owlish blinking. “Pleasant.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” This time, he sounds impatient. You bite back a laugh.

Curious about how Illumi will respond to a more vulgar kind of dirty talk, you say, “You know... you’re so big, Ilu. You always hit all the nice spots. My fingers could never replace you. I’m almost jealous I don’t get to see you right now.”

“Ah... is that so.” He coughs slightly, and you’d like to think he’s affected.

You continue stroking, voicing soft moans into the receiver, and Illumi makes a frustrated sound. “What is it?”

“I…” You can picture his tensed brow. He sounds unusually annoyed. “This is… unsatisfactory.”

You choke on your next words, and he continues. “I would prefer to be able to see you. This way, I can’t finish.”

Just as your heart plummets as you consider he doesn’t want to continue, he’s going to hang up, the door slams open. You scramble to cover yourself with the sheets, then you’re staring up at a familiar pair of large, black eyes. “Illu?!?”

He tosses his phone to the side, before surging forwards to press his mouth to yours firmly. It’s a little awkward, like all forms of affection with him are, his lips pressing against you but not moving at all. What’s not awkward, to you at least, is the way his tented groin nudges against you. When you break the kiss, he’s frowning. 

“This is better,” he says, not a trace of emotion on his face.

“How did you—”

“I certainly need to ensure your windows are reinforced,” he says offhandedly. “But also... what did I say about making sure no one else is in your apartment?” His frown deepens at the corners.

“Wait, where you—here, this whole time?”

He stares at you as if the answer is obvious. “Of course. I was just about to inform you over the phone, when I heard you were... preoccupied.”

Heat creeps up your face. “I was going to let you finish, however...”

He grabs your phone from your hand, tossing it aside as well. He’s deftly removing his pants with one hand, while yanking your fingers out from inside of you, but not before scrutinizing your drenched fingers with his blank stare. Then his hand is entwining with yours, and he’s surging into you. You choke back a moan. 

“Ah... yes.” Illumi makes a sound in his throat that sounds close to a purr. For him at least. “This is much better.” His hips begin pistoning into you.

You arch your back, releasing a staggered cry of his name. Illumi is spurred to pound into you, his thin hips slapping into your ass with every thrust. His eyes are wide-open, betraying little as usual, but you can spot a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead, a frantic intensity about him. His long hair falls like a curtain over you two and you push some behind his ear, the brush of your palm lingering near his cheek.

He tilts his head to the side, slamming into you with a force that has your body tensing up. When his long, dexterous fingers dip between your bodies to rub against your throbbing nub, you’re hurtling towards a quick end, your orgasm bursting inside of you as you cry out his name once more.

Your free hand comes to grasp his wrist. A warning to stop. His fingers twitch, as if wanting to defy it, but with your spasms drawing him in closer, he concedes to wrapping his hand around your shoulder as his hips thrust into you for a final time, his hot spend shooting out in spurts inside of you.

Your hand slacks in his hold, and he relaxes his form against you, his eyes slipping shut. Your labored breathing is a contrast to his silent cooldown, but when he finally glances up, you’re grinning at him.

He feels the bite of irritation before he even knows what you’re up to. “What?”

“The sexting totally worked,” you say smugly.

“The... you mean those awful messages you sent me?” If he could, Illumi would be rolling his eyes. As it is, his tone conveys that well enough. “Those were hardly comparable to the real thing.”

“Admit it, though. It kind of worked.”

Illumi, in fact, will not admit it. He will also not admit that he saved that picture of you in his shirt in an extremely private, password-protected, Milluki’s-computer-will-automatically-catch-on-fire-if-he-attempts-to-breach-it folder.

Instead, he shows you how technology pales to his skills over and over that night.

[manias-wordcount]

With Yandere Chrollo… or normal Chrollo… i’m guessing he would want to have his s/o by his side at all times… considering the phantom troupe moves a lot and doesn’t have a specific place where they live… where do you think their s/o would go? like how would they shower and where would they sleep… or does Fhrollo just keep them by him at all times kind of

Useless (Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝘂𝘆𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿! 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳 "𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲" 𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗲'𝗿𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲- 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗯𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 (𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗮 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗞 𝗟𝗢𝗟), 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲'𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗯𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘂𝗽. 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

“Um…Chrollo? I was wondering…”

  You hate this feeling.

  “...Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Yet it follows you everywhere.

  “Hmm?” A soft hum is your only verbal response. For now, at least.

  At your question, Chrollo’s eyes turn to the side and fall onto you. His gaze is warm- it always is warm when it lands onto you. He always carries that soft look about him whenever he gazes in your direction. It’s a kind, sweet look. One that shows he’s doting. One that shows he’s loving. One that shows he cares. As if that’s all he ever does. And sure, you’ve come to learn that he has the utmost care and respect for the other members of the Phantom Troupe. But you were never like the other spiders. Hell, you’re not even really a spider. You will never be a real spider. Not like the rest of them. The way he looks at you tells you that every single day. But still, you have to…

  “Please Chrollo! I want to help!” 

  …you have to at least try.

  You hate begging. And you hate begging him of all people. He’s always the first person to give you whatever you want. He’s always the first person to get you whatever you need. Whenever your eyes linger too long on an item in a display case, he’s quick to just snap and order someone to fetch it for you. You don’t even have to say a word. You don’t even have to lift a finger. He gives you so, so much without question. And so much more without fail. It feels wrong to beg him for something. But this is the one thing. The one thing you can’t help but grow desperate for. Because your fight against this feeling is making you grow weak. Weaker than you already are, and you hate this feeling. You hate it. You hate it. You hate it. 

  “Hmm…I think it’s better if you just stay right here, yeah?”

  But Chrollo seems to love that for you.

  Even as you look up at him with a quivering lip and tears threatening to line your eyes, he just stares back and gives you a warm smile. He pats the small floor pillow on the ground right next to him expectantly. He pats your seat, and his raised eyebrow tells you that it's not looking for a challenge- just for you to comply. And it would be so easy. It would be so easy. He gives you so much. He takes care of you all the time. He protects you. He spoils you. He feeds and clothes and he loves you. And you truly believe him whenever he holds you close at night and tells you how he would burn the world for you if you would ever put in the request.

  But you can’t. You can’t put in any more requests. You’re tired of putting in requests. You’re tired of it all. You’re tired of sitting idly by watching people run in and out of danger all because it’s what your boyfriend commanded. You’re tired of watching people run and out of danger because they’re doing something for you. 

  “Please Chrollo…I won’t go far, I promise! I just want to help the others!” You try asking again, this time with even more desperation in your voice. You know might be fruitless. That he might not even spare another thought in this direction. And you know you’re not as strong as the others. You know you don’t have the same toughness as someone who grew up in Meteor City. You know you don’t have the same strength as someone with large muscles or powerful Nen. You know you’re nothing but an ant compared to a great and powerful beast like a spider. You know it all too well. But still… “I just…I just don’t want to be useless anymore…”

  You have to at least try.

  “What did you just say?”

  At his response, you couldn’t help but freeze. There was something chilling about this voice that he used with you. It wasn’t harsh. But it certainly wasn’t something that you were used to. That warm look that you grew so used to had already been wiped clean off his face. Now, you were met with a firm frown and eyes that had grown dangerously cold. You can’t recall a moment you had ever seen him with such an emotion on his face. At least, when the feeling was directed toward you. And right now? You’re just not sure what to do.

  You didn’t mean to trail off when you spoke your last words. You didn’t mean to show him any form of weakness. You owe so much of your life and your comfort and your happiness to him. But at the same time- it’s like you’re suffocating. You’re always by his side. And when you’re not, you’re at least within his sight. Or much to his favor, within arm’s length. Before him, you were a functioning human being. A person with a life. A person who was able to get by, even if all you did was exist in a mundane little bubble. But now with him and the troupe in your life, everything was able to change. 

  Sure, you were always by at least 3 major criminals every second of your life, but you got to meet so many new people. And sure, you were always being dragged along from hideout to hideout while staying out of view from the general public in favor of being Chrollo’s protected little pet, but you got to have so many new things. Things you always wanted. Things you never thought you would get. Things you never heard of before. All of them- delivered on a silver platter just for you.

  “I just said I wanted to help…” Begin in an almost silent whisper. “That’s all I wanted to do…”

  But this new lifestyle made you feel like you were unable to care for your own well-being. Chrollo is your bodyguard to the bathroom. Chrollo is your blanket, your pillow, and your security system all wrapped into one. He gives you everything. He provides you with everything. Yet the only thing you’re good for is sitting right next to him. Letting him curl his fingers through your hair as he reads. Climbing onto him and wrapping your arms around him whenever he pats his lap. Smiling at him- just because he wanted to see that his dearest was still happy. Just because he wanted to see if his dearest needed anything. But compared to all that he does- this is nothing. It will always be nothing. So that’s why you had to ask. That’s why you have to do this. For troupe. For him. 

  For yourself.

  “I’m sorry, Chrollo! But I really do want to help!” You continue, your eyes now alight with a new flame. A new desire to take back what was once yours in your life. “Please? You have to let me! I just don’t want to be useless any-”

  “Don’t.”

  The word is barked at you. With all the ferocity of a wild dog. With all the strength of a thousand men. It shatters glass. It sets off bombs. The word is barked at you. With the same chilling feeling as hell freezing over. And that frozen mess- it reaches you quickly. It reaches you easily. Taking over your body and filling you with fear. And in no time at all, it stops your heart. In fact, you swear it stops time itself. All you’re left with is the echo of his voice saying that same word in that same voice, over and over again. 

  You don’t even realize that you’re shaking until you see his hands slowly reaching and grabbing yours. You peel your eyes away from the now worried expression he has on his face to look down at your joined hands. You don’t think about how his brow was knitted together. You just think about how your hands fit into his comfortably, like they always do. You don’t think about how the corner of his lips was tugged downwards into a small frown. You just think about warm his palms are are his fingers lace between yours. And you don’t think about the pain welling up in his eyes at the very thought of potentially hurting you. You just think about useless you are when it comes to comforting him. 

  You just think about how he’s already taking care of you.

   “Don’t…say that.” He continues, his voice in a low murmur as he tugs you closer to him. His words feel heavy. Your heart feels heavy. One minute you’re begging him to allow you to help in some way. The next minute, you’re terrified- left shaking in fear at the sight of a side of him you thought you would have never seen. And the minute after that? You’re regretting the whole mess you started. “You’re not useless. You’ve never been useless. Not to me.”

  When you’re finally close enough, his hands pull always from yours and settle on your hips. He brings you into his chest. He holds you tight. And when that isn’t enough? He holds you tighter. And even as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin? Even as he whispers compliments and praises into your body? Your mind can’t help but settle on that feeling once more. That feeling that you hate, hate, hate so much. A feeling that Chrollo inadvertently gives you. A feeling that you know Chrollo hates for you too.

  “I won’t say it anymore. I promise…”

  Even if he has a funny way of showing it.

[his0kaswife]

🦆

[matchaxberries]

Request/Writing Rules 🫐

Requests are open :3

I default with gender neutral (gn!) reader. Using they/them pronouns, and no proper description of a body and that sort. If you want something specific, please specify. If it is NSFW (smut wise) please specify their biological gender, and pronouns if you don’t want them referred as that. If you do not specify, I will do what I think fits the plot, or I will try to go by your profile if it’s a non-anon request. (Please don’t be offended if I do that, and I default it to something you didn’t want.)

I will write;

-character x reader

-character x character

-character x oc

-oc x reader

-male x male

-female x female

male x female

polyamory

Absolutely anything basically.

Fandoms/Things I write for,

(Not including literal children.)

Oc’s/No specific fandom.

Overwatch

Genshin Impact

Valorant

Humanoid! FNAF (I am not writing an entire robot love story, no thank you.)

Danganronpa

My Hero Academia

Naruto

Bungo Stray Dogs

Re:ZERO

The Seven Deadly Sins (anime)

Fullmetal Alchemist

Tokyo Ghoul

Hunter X Hunter (no smut unless aged up/the adults)

Haikyu!!

Sword Art Online

Fairy Tail

Jujutsu Kaisen

In Another World With My Smartphone

How Not to Summon a Demon Lord

Black Clover

So much more, but these are what comes to mind. Literally just ask and if I don’t know it I’ll say so, or I’ll watch it.

Things I write about,

Angst happy ending and not happy ending

Fluff

Hurt/Comfort

Smut (I will write kinks, specify what. Also specify top/bottom or I’ll make the judgment, and biological gender if it is a reader insert.)

Any combination of those

Polyamorous relationships

AU’s (Specify.)

“Yandere”

Omegaverse (Preferably specify if you want a certain character to be a certain role. If not, I will make judgement myself.)

Mental Health

Age-Regression (Not sexual.)

Dark and heavy topics

Just ask if you do not see your topic here, and you’re unsure if I write it.

Things I won’t write,

Pregnancy (It makes me kinda uncomfortable, I’ll write with kids and stuff but I won’t write actual pregnancy.)

Breastfeeding

Vomit/Scat kinks

I have no idea, just don’t be extremely odd or disgusting.

Extra/Other,

Are you unsure how to ask for a request, or don’t know how to word it? Here is an example to go off of. Using something random as an example.

“Hey, may I have a Sakura from Naruto x f!reader, where they go on a date to the ramen shop? I think it would be fun if after they went home, and it was a lot of fluff.”

“Can I have a Kankuro from Naruto x reader smut where he uses his chakra strings to make the reader do whatever he wants? Female body reader please!”

“Can I get some drabbles about how Kakashi, Gai/Guy, and Asuma would treat a sensitive male reader in a relationship? Smut and fluff! Thank you.”

“I think Rock Lee would simp so hard over a reader who is taller than him, can you write some fluffy drabbles about that?”

I hope that might help you if you’re feeling confused, if not give it your best shot and I’ll do my best too. I of course will reply to requests that look nothing like that, they are just guides if you’re confused and have no idea.

Introduction Post

Masterlist

[usagi-best-boy]

Chrollo Lucilfer

Hunter x Hunter

[winxanity-ii]

HUNTER X HUNTER MASTERLIST

╰ ⌞🇲‌🇦‌🇮‌🇳‌-🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌⌝

⨂ LEORIO PARADINIGHT

⨁ ILLUMI ZOLDYCK

⨂ PARISTON HILL

⨁ SHALNARK RYUSEIH

⨂ KURAPIKA KURTA

⨁ GING FREECSS

⨂ POKKURU

⨂ CHROLLO LUCILFER

⨁ HANZŌ HATTORI

⨂ HISOKA MOROW

⨁ KAITO/KITE

⨂ MERUEM

⨁ KNOV

⨂ FEITAN PORTOR

⨁ UVOGIN

⨂ WING/UINGU

⨁ GON FREECSS

⨂ KALLUTO ZOLDYCK

⨁ KILLUA ZOLDYCK

⨂ NEFERPITOU

⨁ SHAIAPOUF

⨂ COLT

⨁ MENTHUTHUYOUPI

⨂ MULTI-SHIPS

**There will be NO smut/semi-smut work written about Gon, Killua, nor Kalluto—frankly any minor during the HunterxHunter era—1) they're minors and if you're writing sexual things about/having to do with minors, please go to the nearest police station and turn yourself in & 2) I grew up reading/watching HunterxHunter so they are practically my babies—no matter how beefed up they make them in Chimera Ant Arc; the most you'll get out of me is innocent highschool romance, lol.

[plutogist]

FIRST MEET

i. part one: your first meet with these characters. (part two here)

ii. gender neutral. reader | not proofread (lmk if I used any gendered terms!)

iii. characters: gon freecs, killua zoldyck, kurapika kurta, chrollo lucilfer, feitan portor.

GON FREECS

You and your family just recently relocated to Whale Island, primarily due to financial problems. You weren't particularly against the notion of relocating to the countryside, but you'll miss the city life in YorkNew. In order to become accustomed with the town, you first wanted to explore it.

While you were exploring, some of the locals approached you due to your new demeanor. Speaking with so many new individuals was a little challenging for you, but it was also quite a bit of enjoyment. You were strolling after shopping for new clothes in a store when you stumbled into a person and fell.

"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed an optimistic voice. You looked up and noticed a boy that seems to be in your age with green spiky hair and hazel eyes. He extended his hand, and you grabbed it.

"It's fine, don't worry," you said with a smile on your face.

"Are you new here? I don't recognize your face; by the way, my name is Gon Freecs!" He introduced himself to you.

"Yeah, I just moved here yesterday. My name is Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you, Gon," you introduced yourself, and the two of you have been acquainted since then.

KILLUA ZOLDYCK

You're Gon's cousin, who also stays on Whale Island. You agreed to accompany him to the 287th hunting exam after learning of his objectives. You were concerned that Gon's negligent conduct may bring him a lot of suffering or, worse, death because he can be rather impetuous when making judgments.

You met Kurapika and Leorio since you were on the same ship as them. During the first phase, you and Gon met a boy your age who had silvery locks and stunning blue eyes that captivated you.

"So, you two are cousins?" Killua asked while the three of you were running. Some of the participants were falling like dominoes due to how exhausted they were, but you chose to ignore them. This is just an endurance test, but they're already failing.

"Yup! Actually, we're like siblings with how close we are and we also grew up together," Gon explained and his smile grew wider. Killua just hummed as a response, while the three of you simultaneously ran together.

Killua is considerably closer to Gon, yet the two of you interact and converse every now and then. Nonetheless, you wished to be more connected to the boy.

KURAPIKA KURTA

You grew up in Lukso Province along with your grandparents (mother side). Ever since your parents were assassinated by an elite assassin when you were 8 years old, your grandparents have taken care of you and ever since that day, you have pledged to seek vengeance on the assassin that killed your parents.

Your grandparents live in the Lukso Province predominantly because it is isolated from the rest of the world, which your grandparents prefer. Your mother moved to Zaban City, where your father dwells, after marrying your father, and shortly thereafter gave birth to you.

You spend your free time keeping an eye on your grandparents' nearby fruit and vegetable shop and entertaining the customers who stop by. A boy with grey eyes and medium golden locks appeared one day. He was a kind customer. He would stop by sometimes and you find him to be quite intriguing.

You later learned his name and that he is a member of the Kurta clan. You two grew closer to one another, and you also met Pairo, his other friend. But the day where he stopped visiting you came and the day turned into months. It was a normal day for you until you heard about the tragedy that was brought upon the Kurta clan. You were substantially devastated by his murder and the death of his clan once the word of their assassination spread throughout the neighborhood and worldwide. But you never knew that he wasn't killed and is the sole survivor of the clan.

CHROLLO LUCILFER

You are a resident of Meteor City, a forsaken city where citizens are not listed in the official records. You have no recollection of your parents or how you ended yourself in the city. You had no idea how you'd survive on your own as a child.

And you're completely aware that you'll die within a week. You're famished, and struggling to move. Your clothes are filthy and coated in dust spots. You witnessed a church while wandering around looking for food and approaching it carefully, utilizing your residual stamina.

The church's doors were closed, but not locked, thus you were able to open them by pushing them. The church was not equally huge as cathedrals, but it was vast and expansive for a city that had been abandoned. The walls have been coated white and are immaculate, but the ceiling was embellished with various fresco paintings pertaining to Christianity - quite reminiscent of Michelangelo's masterpiece in the Sistine Chapel Ceiling. The windows were shut down, so the sole source of illumination was coming from outside the door.

You sat on the long wooden pew bench, gazing at the hardened asphalt surface, absorbing the misery and starvation that had been devouring your body for days. Your eyes were gradually giving up until you felt a tap on your shoulder that made you flinch. When you turned around, you saw a boy with medium-length black hair and grey eyes, who was looking at you with a smile.

"Hello. My name is Chrollo. Who are you?" he sought out directly, an inquisitive expression on his face. You didn't respond promptly because you were considering all of the possibilities, but you concluded that he might be able to help you. "I'm Y/N...Nice to meet you, Chrollo...," you sloppily said, your hunger returning, and Chrollo appeared to notice.

He reached deep into his pocket and offered you an edible treat. "I'm sorry, this is all I have," he responded nervously, chuckling. While glancing at the snack on his palm, your eyes gleamed. You took it away and opened the treat, but before you bit through it, you smiled at the boy. "Thank you, Chrollo," you said as you devoured the snack. Unbeknownst to you, a pink hue was prominent in his cheeks, but you were too busy eating the food to notice it.

FEITAN PORTOR

You work as a clerk in a game store at YorkNew City's Saloma Mall. Even though working as a clerk isn't really your thing or something you'd enjoy performing, you don't want to rely excessively on your parents when it comes to buying the items you need and paying for your tuition as a college student. You opted to work as a cashier at a game store in order to make money because you are completely aware of how much they are paying and it makes you ashamed to ask them for something you desire.

However, it is a minimal wage. You work for a full 14 hours without ceasing to sleep or even take a break, but periodically you take a nap if there isn't a customer or if your friend Aki is there. You earn 1000 jenny every hour. (I based this on the currency of Japan [yen] + I also searched on Google abt this, so I'm sorry if it's inaccurate.)

It's Thursday, and it's 10:45 p.m. You yawned as you flipped through the pages of the novel you're reading, rereading the lines because all you've been doing for the past few seconds is reading the sentences and not processing or understanding them. "I'm so exhausted..." you whispered to yourself as you flipped over the pages of the book.

But your lackadaisical manner was shattered when a bell on above of the doors chimed, indicating that someone had entered. You noticed two persons enter the shop: a guy with blond hair and two green eyes, and a boy wearing baggy clothes and a skull-embroidered scarf concealing his mouth. He's also much shorter than the guy he's with.

You noticed the two walking around the aisles, looking for a game that piqued their interest. However, based on your insights, the boy with black hair appears to be apathetic in anything, as he simply follows the other person about, sporadically examining something but quickly leaving it, in contrast to the other, who seemed to be extremely thrilled skimming at various videogames.

"Hello, this is what we're getting," you didn't realize that they'd already arrived at the counter. You simply nodded and scanned the three objects he set on the counter.

"Your total is 3500 jenny," you said and placed the three items in a bag. He placed his money on the counter while you gave him the bag, and you began to count the money that he gave. "Oh, but before we leave, my friend here thinks you're attractive; my name is Shalnark, and his name is Feitan! See you later, Miss!" The person dashed away, while the other gazed at you for a brief time before chasing him down.

You're still perplexed by what just occurred while your hand is still occupied with the coins. And it turns out that as Feitan was sitting on the seats inside Saloma Mall waiting for the rest of the troupe, he noticed you wandering about in your uniform. And we'll...he's been watching you ever that particular day, but he's reluctant to approach you.

Here are your ages:

Gon - 12

You - 12

Killua & You ^

Kurapika (when you first meet) - 13

You - 13

Chrollo (when you first meet) - 11

You - 11

Feitan - 25

You - 21

[chrollohearttags]

Cherry’s Songfic Soiree

so I finally decided on a theme for my 4K/Valentines Day Event..welcome to Cherry’s SongFic Soirée! Where I’ll be writing fics based on a song and character of your choosing. There’s really no specific rules other than no underage characters, no inappropriate themes (race play, age play, etc.) and no spam requesting! Other than that, you can feel free to send me:

character name:

song you want the fic to be based from:

full fic or drabble?:

smut, fluff, angst?:

fandoms and verses

the fandoms I’ll more than likely write for are AOT (obv), JJK, HunterxHunter, JJBA, Haikyuu and My Hero Academia. I do prefer modern au’s but if you request a canonical fic, I don’t mind.

running this from now, February 13th till the end of this month so send them in! Send requests through either asks or DM’s. These aren’t really commissions but if you’d like to tip, I’d greatly appreciate it. 🫶🏾 also opening this up as a collab as well if anyone would like to join in and participate!!! It’s fine if characters repeat, just message and let me know who you’re doing, as well as the song.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Flu Season.

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Mentions of Guns, and Imprisonment.

[I have a fever. Excuse the self-indulgence.]

It should’ve been enough that you’d just been kidnapped.

Dragged into the storage closet of an art gallery you could barely afford to visit, bound and gagged and blindfolded, the barrel of a gun shoved into the notch underneath your diaphragm as a man with slicked-back hair and a woman in a wine-red suit walked you out of an obscured backdoor and into a windowless van, already stocked with haphazardly packaged paintings and sculptures. It was just business as usual, the woman had explained, as if that would make you feel any better. They’d keep you as a hostage until attention died down, sell off the stolen artwork, and drop you off on the outskirts of the nearest city, alive and unharmed. As long as you didn’t put up a fight or get on anyone’s nerves, you’d walk away just fine.

Or, mostly fine, at least. Really, you had to be the unluckiest person in the world.

It wasn’t enough that you’d just been kidnapped by some shady, hyper-violent gang of thieves.

You had to get kidnapped, then come down with a cold.

Or the flu. It might’ve been the flu. You definitely had a fever. You couldn’t take your temperature, but you could feel those tell-tale chills, the splitting headaches, the constant pull of an exhaustion no amount of sleep would’ve been able to sedate. Your throat was raw from coughing, your head pounding and your tongue permanently dry, but you’d resigned yourself to nursing the lukewarm glass of stale water you’d gathered the strength to get for yourself more than a few hours ago. You barely had the energy to stand, but it wasn’t as if you could ask your kidnappers to wait on you. They seemed begrudgingly tolerant of your presence – vaguely amused at best, mildly annoyed at worst. It was safer not to draw any attention to yourself, even if that meant suffering alone for another few days.

Another sudden chill, another knot of ache in the back of your skull. You shuddered, pulling the small pile of blankets and quilts you’d amassed that much closer. The abandoned mansion they’d chosen as their temporary lair was an awful, drafty structure – all rotting wood and dirt-caked windows and thin walls that did nothing to keep out the winter air. You’d holed yourself up in one of the countless decaying bedrooms, but even the surprisingly clean king-sized mattress offered little consolation. That, paired with the holes in the walls, the layer of dust coated over every surface, didn’t make you feel very—

Your bleary thoughts were cut off by the sound of your bedroom door creaking open, of quiet footsteps approaching the spot where you laid. You shot up on reflex, but that immediately proved to be a mistake – a jolt of pure agony racing from the nape of your neck to your temples and settling in the space just behind your eyes. Cursing under your breath, you buried your face in your hands, doing your best to block out the light and soothe the sudden pain, but you didn’t have much time to console yourself. The intruder had already reached your bedside, the plush mattress dipping under their weight as they settled into your space. You spared them a withering glance, but once again, that only seemed to make things worse.

For whatever reason, the thieves’ leader himself – Chrollo, if memory served – had seen fit to pay you a visit.

And just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse.

You stiffened, pressed your back into the dilapidated headboard, did what you could to make yourself look small and unremarkable without giving him the impression that you were meek enough to go down without a fight (despite the fact that, if worst came to worst, you probably would). For what it was worth, he didn’t seem hostile. If anything, the expression written across his face was one of pleasant neutrality – a slight smirk paired with a distant look in his eyes, like he had a million things to do and whatever he’d come to you for barely ranked on his list of concerns. When he noticed you were looking at him, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Rather, he only lifted the hand furthest from you, bringing a nondescript plastic bag into your line of sight and placing it in front of you gingerly, as if he was leaving a hunk of raw meat in front of some exotic beast.

It was only when you failed to react that he started to explain himself. “I heard you were sick.”

Fuck. And you thought you’d managed to fly under his radar.

“I… I think it’s just a cold.” Because colds were safer than flus, easier to recover from and only half as contagious. Because they were less likely to decide you weren’t worth the effort it’d take to keep you around if you just had a cold. “I should be alright in a couple of days, but if you think we’ll need to move before that—”

“Oh, no, it’ll be another week or so before we move on. You'll have plenty of time to recover.” He spoke casually, as if they weren’t wanted fugitives. As if you weren’t a bargaining chip for them to flaunt in front of the police if things went south. He gestured towards the bag, his grin growing just a little wider. “Let me know if I missed something. I tried for variety, but I can make a second trip if you find that your needs haven’t been met.”

Hesitantly, you took up the bag, dragging it into your lap and pulling it open. The contents consisted of what a friend might’ve brought over after you’d missed a morning lecture to a particularly bad hangover. Mineral water, tissues, brand-name painkillers and generic cough medicine. There were a few sporadic add-ons, too – chocolate bars, two bracelets with matching broken clasps and a silver wedding band, a miniature teddy bear that’d clearly been plucked off of a Valentine’s Day clearance rack, but you choose not to linger on those any longer than you had to. Honestly, you were just glad not to find any bullet casings or disembodied extremities. “One of nen’s many silver linings. Once your body surpasses a certain point, illness tends to be more of a peripheral hazard than a daily inconvenience,” he went on, as you rummaged through the bag. “I’m a little out of practice, but hopefully, this will suffice.”

You weren’t exactly sure what he was talking about, but you did your best to nod along, only letting a small portion of your confusion shine through. None of this made sense, none of this was anything you’d ever thought to prepare yourself for, but when he finished, you scrambled to respond, as eager to please as he seemed to be to soak in your praise. “Thank you. It’s perfect, I—” The air hitched in your throat, and anything you might’ve said broke down into a violent coughing fit, only somewhat stifled by the back of your hand. He was still staring at you, when you found the strength to look toward him again, still wearing that fucking smile. Something quirked inside of your chest, and you turned away from him sharply. “I appreciate it, I really do, b-but I’m not sure what’s going on, and I don’t want to disrespect the— your—”

“The Phantom Troupe,” he finished. “My Spiders.”

“Right. That. I don't know how to deal with that.” You shook your head, letting out a slight sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t really keep up with the world of high-class art theft.”

“Oh, we steal all sorts of things. Art, antiques, the occasional organ.” He paused, then seemed to brighten, his tone taking on a kind of childlike eagerness. “A few years ago, a buyer I’m closely acquainted with was interested in amassing a collection of teeth from notable living figures. It was a dull job, but it paid well enough, and my group made the most of it. We're very versatile.”

There was another chill, this time with a source other than your smoldering fever. You wrapped your arms over your chest, shrinking into yourself, but if Chrollo cared about how reflexively you pulled away from him, he didn’t seem to think of it as a mistake that couldn’t be corrected with a breath of a laugh, a slight tap to his knee. “Come here.”

It wasn’t a question, a request, but you considered refusing for one brief, delusional second before ignoring your better judgment and moving towards him – gradually, at first, as slowly as you were able to, until you’d gotten just a little too close and he was able to lash out, to snake an arm around your waist and pull you against his chest. There was a low chuckle, a hand brought to your cheek before it was used to brush the hair away from your face. He held you like that for a long moment – tucked against him, fingers tangled in your hair, his lips ghosting over your forehead – before his grip slackened and his hand fell back to your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. “Poor thing,” he muttered, his voice muffled by your skin. “You’re burning up.”

He let you go as quickly as he’d taken you up, unraveling himself from you and rising to his feet. There was a click of his tongue, a new lilt to his smile, and when he spoke, he did so with a certain lightness – as if he was playing a role he’d spent just a little too long preparing for. “I’ll make tea. Try to get some rest while I’m gone.”

You waited for him to leave, but he didn’t move, didn't look away from you. With no small amount of trepidation, you turned your back to him, lying on your side and drawing the tussled blankets over yourself.  That earned a hum of approval, but you didn’t let yourself so much as breathe until you heard his light footsteps, until the bedroom door groaned closed and you were left alone with only the impending knowledge that you wouldn’t be, for very long.

At least things couldn’t get any worse, right?

[vampi-fixx]

ornament

chrollo lucilfer x reader // hunter x hunter // fluff // 1.1k+ words

not me forgetting i had a whole christmas fic for this man. oops. a spruced up repost.

Chrollo has a thief's eye. Wherever he looks is calculated, measured—as if he’s mapping out the quickest escape route, or a clever move to gain the upper hand. His gaze is always shrewd, attuned to endless possibilities. 

Which is perhaps why he catches your shift in mood so quickly.

The two of you are strolling down the main street. Now that the hustle and bustle of Christmas has ended, and people no longer crowd the streets, you brought up the idea of venturing into the nicer part of town to admire the lavishly decorated streets.  

While conversation flows easy between you two, as if often does, your voice dies down once you spot something. Chrollo pauses as well, noticing your attention has been caught by something else: a small, decorative Christmas tree perched in the window of a store, which you stare at with something akin to discontent.

“What’s wrong? Is it not to your liking?”

“Ah.” You're startle; you weren’t expecting him to notice. (How quaint. It's almost as if you don't know him—once he finds something that catches his eye, he wants to study every inch of it.) “I was just thinking. I-It’s nothing.” You wave your hand dismissively. His curiosity piques. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me,” he says, his voice a saccharine concoction you could spend your entire life indulging in. And you have spent hours getting lost in it, listening to the syllables rolling off his tongue like caramel, sometimes in languages you couldn't hope to understand, yet just as entrancing. You suppose that’s what attracts others to the Phantom Troupe—their leader's subtle yet undeniable charisma, his manner of speaking and carrying himself that entices one's attention long before they realize they've fallen into his web.

Including you.

“People like to... decorate things,” you finally say, working past your trepidation. “They like putting ornaments on trees.”

“Mmhmm."

“Well...” You fiddle with the straps of your bag, needing something to ground yourself. “Ornaments have no practical purpose, though. They’re just there to make things look pretty, right?”

“Hmm, yes. That is their function.” You’ve definitely roused his interest now. He draws closer to your side, his eyes bright with curiosity. The way other people’s minds worked has always amused Chrollo; this isn’t the first intriguing question you’ve asked him. He once told you that’s what drew him to you. 

We both have an insatiable curiosity for the secrets of the world, he said. 

(You wonder, however, in the back of your mind, if this is a Pandora’s box you should leave closed. To open it might change things irrevocably.)

“It just makes me wonder... if... you know, between us... if I’m just--is that all I am to you?” You release the last few words in a rush, with the air of someone voicing something into existence that not even they want to acknowledge.

And it’s true. You feel ashamed that these worries plague you. Chrollo is polite, pleasant, the picture of a good boyfriend. 

But that’s the thing. Perfection is sometimes a curse in itself. He’s too perfect. Uneasily so. Too kind. You can’t help but fiddle with the ribbon neatly binding your relationship, wondering what would happen if you pulled the edges apart. What kind of surprise would you find waiting for you?

“Are you making some strange connection between yourself and a Christmas decoration?” Amusement rings heavy in his tone, and it flusters you further. 

You know that he’s a renowned thief. What possible interest does he have in you? What connections could he gleam from you, a mere civilian?

What if you really are just a pretty, silly thing for him to have on his arm? An alibi, a cover-up?

Chrollo, noting your discomfort, breaks the silence.

“Well...” he says, his tone rich with delight. “You’re forgetting something, dear. Ornaments may have no practical purpose, yes, but they add immeasurable value to a tree. Even the smallest ones.”

“You could say the same thing about a blank canvas,” he continues. “It has no value until an artist paints on it. Then it can sell for millions. Or rather, be coveted by just as many.”

You catch his gaze in the mirror, gleaming with intrigue.

“So, while you are pretty...” he says, using your words from earlier, enjoying the way the compliment visibly flusters you. Reaching out, he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek. “I would argue that you do have value, if that’s what you’re concerned about."

He’s so smooth. It’s like he knows exactly what to say to ease any worries away, regardless of how silly or foolish you think they are.

Almost like he can read into you too well. 

You try and think of a response to him, you really do. Your mouth opens with a retort before closing once you realize its futility. Nothing you say could even think of topping that. It’s like he leaves no room for doubt in any conversation.

“Oh... well. That's... good?" you say lamely, all too aware of just how in-eloquent your response is compared to his.

He takes the hint, sparing you further embarassment.

“I take it you won’t want to bring back a discounted Christmas tree, however?” His tone is conversational. He's always good at turning the tides of conversation his way.

You wrinkle your nose. “No thanks. It’s a lot of work.”

“Yes... I don’t believe any of the Troupe has the patience to decorate it.” He chuckles. “Not entirely practical, either, if we’re using your terms.”

"No. It really isn't."

He tilts his head. "Of course, if you really wanted a tree, I suppose... I have my own pretty thing to decorate with, right here,” he says, squeezing your shoulder, drawing you close to him. You stiffen at the unexpected gesture.

His eyes shine with mirth, a rare, playful side to him. One that only you’ve seen. “Maybe you can be the topping to my tree. You’d probably outshine every other decoration.”

“Chrollo!” you hiss, feeling your face grow hot. You know he’s only doing this because you’re out in public, and he knows very well of your bashfulness with public displays of affection. It’s why he only pulls them out to ruffle you.

“What’s wrong? You wanted me to humor you at first, but now it looks like you can’t wait to get away from me.” He flashes you an innocent, wide-eyed look, one that you know entirely masks his sadistic streak.

He spends the rest of the day making quips about trees, and you being the star of his. Enjoying every second of your chagrin. Eventually, his musings are loud enough to attract the attention of a tree seller, who decides a couple “so young and in love” like the two you of you should get your own tree, free of charge.

“Well now,” Chrollo glances between you and the tree. “I suppose we can make your dreams a reality—”

“Please no.”

The eyes of a thief he may have. But coupled with the mouth and unrelenting wit of a sadist? A deadly combination that only Chrollo Lucilfer could encompass.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Home | Yandere HunterXHunter x Fem Reader

“I-I hope the next time you go away you’ll stay gone forever!”

Forcing your lower jaw not to drop any further, you called your son’s name. The sentiment was said with such malice too. It amazed you it even came from his mouth in the first place. Kimmy was such a kind and thoughtful little boy. You knew he missed his father but this couldn’t be a normal response. 

“That’s not very nice.”

Of course, Chrollo did what he does best. Antagonizing those weaker than him. Which is the worst kind of response to give to an upset kid. Kimmy puffed his cheeks and angrily used his fork to prick at the vegetables on his plate. He mumbled something with his cheeks filled but you caught it and you’re certain Chrollo did too.

“You don’t deserve anyone being nice.”

“Kimmy. Upstairs now.”

He almost looked shocked when you told him off but he obeyed, quickly shoving what he could in his mouth before putting his plate in the sink. When he looked over his shoulder at you his bottom lip quivered; you held firm even though it hurt.+ He dropped his head turning to the stairs, he made sure to glare at his father as he made his way up. Who in turn had a ghost of a smile on his face as he watched his child stomp up the steps.

When you heard the eventual slam, a muffled apology, and the softer reclosing of the door you let yourself breathe again. Holding your head in your hands you prepared yourself for the talk you needed to have. All too soon the clinking of a fork against ceramic was heard once again. Slowly taking your hands from your face you glared at the thief, who was continuing to eat. Letting out a groan you were once again reminded of why you considered Chrollo Lucilfer a deadbeat. Somehow you sympathized with your son.

“See? You set yourself up for this.”

“It’s a phase. A normal response for a kid his age.”

“A normal response? For the boy who used to celebrate you’re visiting more than his birthday? I don’t think so. ”

You stood up taking your unfinished plate with you as you went to the kitchen. Looking over at the food still on the plate in the sink. 

“What’s normal is for a teenager to express their anger this way, not a six-year-old.” 

You leaned on the counter waiting for him to turn and defend himself. Chrollo didn’t look up from his plate so you continued.

“Don’t you remember how excited he used to be to see you?”

“Of course, I remember.” He cleared his plate. “But I also remember reading that psychiatrist’s diagnosis. It was bound to happen.”

“Later.”

He silently stood up with the plate joining you in the kitchen, moving to wash the dishes in the sink. You glared at him to which he smiled, making you roll your eyes. Taking your plate with you, you headed up the stairs.

______________________________________________________________

“I saw that you ate all your veggies. I’m really proud of you bud.”

You spoke through the door, sitting with your back to it as you played with the food on your plate. Hearing nothing from the other side, you went on. 

“But you didn’t eat your cornbread.”

“‘M not hungry.”

Smiling to yourself. You leaned your head against the wooden door. 

“You sure? Then you’re too full to help me finish?”

You caught yourself as the door opened up, closing the door behind you. You joined Kimmy sitting on the floor leaning against the wall. Playfully bumping into him you handed over the muffin-shaped bread over to him while you busied yourself with the rest of your food. 

You two sat in silence each eating on your own. Finishing first, you quietly set your plate on the ground, turning to the boy beside you who was woefully looking at his unfinished bread. Letting your head lean onto his you waited for him to playfully push back letting a small smile come on his face. 

“What was that about bud?”

He hesitated twirling the bread around in his hands. 

“It’s just hard…for me.”

You scooped him into your lap hugging him tight as you kissed the top of his head. Tenderly wiggling your fingers in his black locks and squeezing him tight. He returned the hug holding onto your arms. 

“I know it is bud. But I’m here and I always will be.”

*Smek.*

*Smek.* *Smek.* *Smek.* *Smek.*

“Okay okay! I’m sorry for doing…that at dinner.”

“Thank you, mister. Now finish your cornbread, we have to get you ready for bed. You have school in the morning.”

“Okay!”

______________________________________________________________

The hollering and nonsensical cacophony of a children’s playground wasn’t music to many. But it was to Kimmy. For him it meant more than just time to play with the other kids, it was the perfect cover for information exchanges. 

“Hey, Kim-Kim do you want to play Cops n’ Robbers with us?”

“Sorry guys I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh…uh…right we’ll see you after recess.”

Kimmy couldn't help but smile as he dismissed himself back into the school building from the playground. Shaking his head, he had to come up with a better excuse. In all the comics he’s read the extras get suspicious after using the same excuse after a while. He’ll have to come up with something soon. 

“Oya Kimmy-chan you slipped away again. So naughty~”

Kimmy feigned guilt as he put his hands up.

“Uh oh, Mr. Morrow you caught me!”

Like clockwork, they both returned to the classroom where they’d have their secret meeting.

“So I heard he came back yesterday.” 

“Yeah, he even tried to win me back with the gifts just like you told me!”

Hisoka leaned his head on the back of his folded hands as he watched the little boy pace. His eyes resembled crescent moons as he smiled.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, and he was being really kissy with Mom! But I stopped it…or at least I tried to.”

His smile wavered.

“Tried to?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure when I went to bed they did more kissing! It was like no one was mad in the morning. She even hugged him before we left.”

“Hmmm.”

“I don’t know what to do. How can I get him to stay away if they still like each other so much?”

Hisoka held his chin as he pretended to think hard before lifting his finger at a grand idea. Kimmy listened expectantly.

“I have an idea. How about I become your Papa?”

Kimmy’s nose scrunched and his eyebrow raised. 

“Think about it he comes back because he’s your Papa if he weren’t you’re Papa anymore he would need to be with (Y/n).”

“T-that’s a great idea!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! I just have to convince Mom to marry you instead. It should work! They don’t even wear the ring anymore so maybe…”

The school bell rang. And it wasn’t long before the other children came pouring in. With a final look of confidence, Kimmy made his way back to his seat. Giddy with excitement, he was going to save his mom. Chase away the thieving monster that always came crawling back. 

“Alright class, does anyone know the traits of Bungee Gum?”

______________________________________________________________

“Hisoka we need to talk.” 

The chirping of birds and the distant sound of children’s laughter took away from your serious visage. Nonetheless, you kept your arms crossed and you’re tone leveled. In turn, your guest remained reclined against the park bench. 

“Oh? You didn’t come to simply spend time with me?”

“Haha very funny. Let’s go.” You silently ushered the teacher to the parking lot. Where your car awaits. Wasting no time at all he slid into your passenger seat and you into the driver’s. Turning out from the lot you made you’re way to a familiar cafe, one you both were expected guests of.

“Kimmy is at karate so we have time.” As if he didn’t already know.+

“Ah, I see. I take it you’re treating me then?”

You groaned but relented as you both walked into the building. Ordering your respective favorites you sat in your favorite booth, tucked away from the main floor. Allowing you to have some semblance of privacy.

“Look you know I appreciate you nurturing Kimmy, he doesn’t have many men in his life and it helps him a lot.”

“Well, I’m glad. I can be of help.” You didn’t bother to comment on the fakeness of that comment.

“Which is the only reason why I thought I should bring this up.” You took a pensive sip of your drink before starting,” So recently he’s been talking about me getting married again.”

“Oh?” “And to you of all people.”

“Oh really?”

His smile and eyes brought no comfort, nor did it convince you that this was some random revelation. But you had no evidence and it very well could be a new aspiration of your suddenly rowdy son. 

“Look, I just need you to tell him how that wouldn’t be a good idea.” 

“Why should I do that?” 

The gleeful smile was held up by his folded fingers. He tilted his head to the side maintaining his faux curiousity. Taking a nervous sip of your drink, you prepared for the lacking logic of a rebuttal he’d no doubt spearhead.

“Because it isn’t right. He doesn’t understand relationships well enough to have any say.”

“Then why be bothered at all?”

You groaned,” Because it’s unbecoming of a kid to claim your his father for no other reason than petty revenge.”

“Revenge? Again, who?” 

You clicked your tongue in annoyance as you focused on the wooden grooves of the cafe’s table. You weren’t planning on informing him of the state of your home, knowing Hisoka he’d be the first to pounce on the mess that had sprouted suddenly. To play with the shambles of the family you were in. You didn’t need that.

“None of your business.” You paused when his eyes stopped smiling. “Look, just tell him you’ve got a girlfriend or something…there’s Illumi isn’t there?”

He hid a snicker behind his hand before taking a long drag of his fruity drink. Putting a wistful hand on his cheek he watches you’re fluster at his silence. The lighting does no favors for anyone but under the warm lighting, you still glowed. 

To so kindly ask him was the equivalent of reasoning with a hunting lion. He’d already decided he’d enjoy inserting himself into your little home. As small and as unconventional as it was you all were thriving. But Hisoka wouldn’t call a spider’s infestation the trait of a blooming household and he’d enjoy wiping out the infestation.

“Ah, that is true.” 

The perimeter was set. A line of traps waiting for the floating arachnid who failed to see the skeleton of a gorgeous life. Too focused on weaving their webs in the next treasure trove; he’d lose them both before he even realized. 

“Hey, after this you want to go to the aquarium with me and Kimmy?”

“I’d love to~! But wouldn’t it be right to ask my girlfriend if that’s alright?”

“Please, he’d sooner smile than actually attend.”

“Want to bet?” 

____________________________________________________

The sound of glass cracking broke the hacker’s attention, only for a minute though. Looking in the reflection of his bright screen he watched his leader and friend destroy the newest model of phone.

“Another one? Leader?” 

It didn’t bother him. The troupe he was a part of had collected over ten shipments of them seven of which we’re going to a client. He only hoped to ease the fury that would no doubt be dictating their actions for the next month. 

Chrollo didn’t respond. 

A foreboding sign. 

So Shalnark had to guess. Was the next heist leaked? The loss of a client? Or was it–?

“(Y/n) and Kimmy.”

The names were familiar but heavy on his tongue. Not because he was scared of them but for whatever reason lies stung the most when reporting to you two. Was it their embodiment of homeliness? Or the sweet warmth that spread just being around you two? 

“My eyes were sniped.”

Chrollo wasn’t actually saying his eyes were gone. It was his contact. Employed solely for the purpose of watching the wife and children of one of the most notorious thieving leaders. They were gone. 

“Any suspects?”

He was already accessing the satellite CCTV of the town and home of his leader’s spouse. Only to find a formidable firewall identical to that of government intelligence. A convincing copy but the attempt to shut him out wouldn’t be met without a persistent onslaught from this day forward.

“Whoever they are, they work quickly.”

Speaking to the leader who was staring intensely at the pop-up from over his shoulder. The lack of response only promised that Chrollo’s fury would not cease anytime soon. 

“Guess we’ll be going back home soon.”

“Yup!”

Shalnark was prepared for the coming bloodshed.  

[marvelmymarvel]

Heir

Silva x Reader

Synopsis: His wife was crazy, hell, you'd be crazy too if you knew your husband was sleeping around... But it wasn't your fault he loved you and not her.

Her shrill cry hit your ears, making you wince from your spot next to Silva. He currently had you wrapped up under his arm, hand absentmindedly caressing the bare skin of your arm. "Kikyo" he warned, eyes darkening a bit as she continue to wail about how evil he was for having a mistress.

This wasn't new knowledge, she had known about it for some time now. This was just her weekly temper tantrum. "I just don't understand how you could do this to me. The woman who gave you your CHILDREN"

Silva's lip curled into a snarl, there was that jab again... The classic 'mother of your children' saying was always the stab she took in the hopes that it would wake him up, but it only ever angered him. Your eyebrows crinkled in distress as you felt the bloodlust oozing from the man who was now gripping you tightly against him. You couldn't run and hide from his anger if you tried. You were just thankful it wasn't directed at you.

"Kikyo."

The woman stopped wailing as the venomous tone and bloodlust hit her finally. You could see her hands shaking, and you felt bad. Not bad enough to stop the relationship you had with the head of the Zoldyck family, but enough to put your hand on his thigh, hoping it would calm him even a little.

And it seemed to work.

He let out a deep exhale, free hand coming up to rub at his eyes. If he could leave her he would, he would much rather be married to you than to her, but he hadn't met you when he needed to settle down some 26 years ago. "I've been nothing but loving towards you, what does she have that I don't?"

You lightly gasped at the question, eyes flicking from Kikyo to Silva in shock. He sat there in silence, staring into her soul as if trying to banish her from the earth altogether. "She was the one who gave me Killua" your eyes widened at his statement. Many things were well-known and talked about, but this was not one of them.

You cringed as Kikyo's sniffles hit your ears. Having Killua with Silva was not something you were proud of, the guilt ate you up to the point where you gave him up to Kikyo, allowing her to care for him as if she carried and birthed him herself. It seemed to have appeased her, and she went on to have two more children with Silva after. But you knew the reason for that was just her trying to prove that she too could give Silva what you did.

An heir.

It was a low blow though, and it made all of the guilt rush through you like a violent hurricane. "Silva..." you whispered out, tone teetering on guilt and warning. He paid no mind to you though. Standing from his spot, he walked towards a sobbing Kikyo. His hands rose to cup her cheeks and while you'd normally feel jealous, all you felt was shame.

You should have never slept with him 12 years ago. Should have never given in to his blue eyes and blonde hair, but you did and now you were here. Stuck in the middle of the family drama that you yourself caused.

He leaned down to be eye level with her, a passerby would have found it sweet, but you knew better. "You mean nothing to me. The children you've given mean nothing to me. I don't know what else I need to do to get you to see that"

That was a lie, the children part at least was. He cared deeply for all of his children, Killua was just special to him. You knew that the hurtful words were only spewed to bite back at her stab but you wished he would have let it go. "Silva" you called out as you shakily stood from the pillow.

Kikyo was now sobbing so hard that she was choking, the sound didn't do anything to Silva, but it was breaking your heart. "Silva leave her alone..." you whispered out as your fingers ghosted his arm before gripping the flesh to pull him away from her. He let you move him away from her, something Kikyo has never been able to do.

The sight only made her sob harder. How could you, of all people, make the man she loved do anything you asked of him? She gave him everything and loved him through everything. But you? You did nothing and yet can control everything about him. Before he goes on jobs, he asks you about your opinion on the danger of the task at hand. When he leaves the house, he asks you if you'd like to join him. When it's time for bed, he'll wait for you because he can't seem to sleep without you.

Her eyes snapped to yours as you looked back at her over your shoulder. "Can you please go get Gotoh" you called out to the butler by the door. The butler left without another word, rushing down the hall to get the head butler who helped Kikyo remain calm. Silva sat back down with a huff, legs crossing as he leaned back in annoyance. You turned back fully to Kikyo, sadness and regret written all over your face.

"I'm sorry Kikyo" you stated firmly, but anyone who knew you could hear the nervous waver in your voice. Despite being annoying, Kikyo was far from weak. She could kill you in two seconds if she really wanted to.

And she really wanted to right now.

But you didn't care anymore. Walking towards her slowly, you waited for her to break down again. But she was silent. You stopped just feet from her, lips pursing as you took in just how tense the air was. Silva called your name out in warning as if he knew deep down that she would attack you while he wasn't by your side.

But maybe you deserved it.

"I'm sorry for everything" your words caused her to inhale sharply, hands forming into fists as she shook in her place. You had no right to apologize. The only way to make this right was for you to leave. But Silva would never let you leave. So there was only one other way to make this right.

You had to die.

Silva felt the shift in the air quicker than you did. Kikyo's hand shot towards your chest, fingers shaped into a sharp form. Your breath hitched but you knew there was no escaping it. You should have been faster...

But Silva was fast enough.

His hand stopped hers right as the fingernails pierced the skin of your chest. She could feel the way your heart was beating frantically under her fingertips. Oh, how she wanted to feel it pound in her hand as she watched the life drain from your eyes. But, with the way Silva was gripping her did she realize she had made a grave mistake.

Silva pushed you behind him as he ripped Kikyo up to him angrily "Lay a hand on her again and I will feed you to the dogs" the words hit your ears, and you would have scolded him for uttering them, but you couldn't think straight - not with all the adrenaline in your veins and the tension in the air.

Kikyo sputtered out apologies but it only angered the silver haired man more.

It all went silent though when the door opened. "Madame. I was called to retrieve you" Gotohs voice broke the tension and you sighed in relief. Silva let her go, allowing her to run to Gotoh in fear. Gotoh didn't say anything, only grabbed her by the shoulder and moved her out of the room.

The sound of the door closing echoed in the room and mixed with your heavy breathing. Silva was in front of you before you could blink, hand reaching for your shirt where blood was pooling. "I'll be okay" you croaked out but he ripped the shirt open regardless, eyes narrowing at the cuts Kikyo marred you with.

"She will be dealt with accordingly" he whispered as he applied pressure to one of the heavier bleeding wounds. You didn't say anything, knowing that not even you could stop what would happen to her. He loved you a lot, maybe even too much. But you couldn't deny that you loved him as well. You reached up to pull his hand away, smiling softly at the confused look on his face.

Dropping his hand, you stepped forward before wrapping your arms around his torso, hiding your face in his chest as you gave into the part of you that needed him close. You didn't care if you were hurt. You didn't care that Kikyo would try to kill you every chance she got. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was him. And as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head -

You knew he felt the same.