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niilue · 5 months ago

Note

For your 3k event can i request Feitan + bratty sub + feminization + male reader? I’m starved for sub/bottom Feitan content!

⎯ feitan portor • hunter x hunter

cw: dom reader, male reader, bratty feitan, feminization, rough sex, dirty talk. written in third person.. babe i know the lack of sub feitan its a sin :(

niilue’s 3k event

feitan groaned, his muscles tensing as he felt himself being fucked hard and fast. he cursed under his breath, the sensation of his lover's thick cock sliding in and out of him, hitting his prostate with each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. his dominant partner seemed to be enjoying it just as much, their hips meeting in a frenzy of lust as they fucked on the bed.

gespite his initial protests, feitan couldn't help but arch his back and moan as he felt himself getting closer to orgasm. the combination of his lover's rough treatment and the feminine lingerie, with its soft, delicate fabric and vibrant colors, was driving him wild. he knew he shouldn't be enjoying it this much, but there was something about giving in to his dominant partner's demands that made him feel incredibly turned on.

his lover reached down, roughly grabbing a fistful of feitan's hair and yanking his head back, exposing his throat. "you like this, don't you, brat?" he growled, spit landing on feitan's skin. "you like being my little slut, wearing my panties and getting fucked like the whore you are?" feitan whimpered, his eyes darting back and forth between his lover's face and the ceiling, trying to decide if he should lie or tell the truth. "yeah," he finally managed to choke out, "i like it."

feitan's lover chuckled darkly at his admission, a smug smile playing on his lips as he tightened his grip on the little man's hair. "that's what i thought," he murmured, leaning down to nip at feitan's earlobe, sending shivers down his spine. he pulled back to admire the way feitan's cheeks flushed pink, matching the delicate lace that adorned his body. "beg for it, then," he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

feitan clenched his teeth, his pride warring with his desire. he hated admitting defeat, but the need for release was becoming unbearable. "p-please (name)," he stuttered, his voice shaking with need, "fuck me harder, i'm begging you."

(name) chuckled again, pleased with the response. he complied, his strokes becoming more powerful and relentless, pushing feitan closer and closer to the edge. "that's it," he encouraged, "ask for what you want, my pretty little thing."

feitan bit his bottom lip, his eyes squeezed shut as he moaned, "more, i need more!" his body was a writhing mess of pleasure and pain, the feminine lingerie feeling both humiliating and exhilarating against his sweat-slicked skin.

with a wicked grin, (name) reached around and pinched feitan's nipples, eliciting a high-pitched squeal. "you're going to cum for me, aren't you?" he taunted, his voice thick with lust. "you're going to fill you're panties like a good little girl."

feitan's eyes snapped open, glaring up at his partner with a mix of anger and arousal. "fuck you," he spat, his voice filled with passion.

(name) simply smirked, leaning in to whisper, "that's the spirit," before pushing feitan over the edge, making him scream out his orgasm, his body shaking uncontrollably as he came in the pink and white lace.

feitan's body went limp as the last tremors of his orgasm faded away, leaving him panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. he felt the weight of his lover's body pressing down on him, but instead of relief, he was filled with a sudden burst of energy. his bratty side resurfaced, and he couldn't help but smirk up at (name). "is that all you've got?" he challenged, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "i thought you'd make me scream louder than that."

(name) lift an eyebrow, his grip on feitan's hips tightening. "you want more?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

feitan nodded, a glint of mischief in his eye. "yeah," he said, his voice a breathy pant, "i want to feel like i'm really being fucked by a man, not just some wimpy excuse for one."

(name's) smile turned predatory, and he pulled out of feitan with a wet pop, leaving the bratty sub gasping. he grabbed a handful of the soft lingerie, wadding it up in his fist and using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. "you're really asking for it now," he said, his voice a low rumble. "but if you want more, you're going to have to beg for it properly."

feitan huffed, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "fine," he snarled, "but you'd better make it worth it."

(name) chuckled, his eyes dark with desire. "oh, I will," he promised, leaning down to whisper in feitan's ear, "and you'll be the one begging for mercy by the end of it." he reached for the nightstand, grabbing a small bottle of lube and a new toy, one that looked particularly intimidating.

feitan's eyes went wide, and he swallowed hard. "what the fuck is that?" he demanded, his bravado slipping a little.

"this," (name) said, holding up the toy with a wicked smile, "is your next lesson in obedience." he lubed it up, the sound of the gel spreading over the smooth surface making feitan's heart race. "now, be a good girl and spread those legs for me."

feitan's cheeks burned with a mix of anger and excitement as he reluctantly did as he was told, bracing himself for whatever was to come. he knew that with each challenge he threw, (name) would only push him further, but the thrill of the game was what kept him coming back for more. he was going to make him work for it, though. he was going to push back and make him earn every single moan and scream. the air was thick with tension as the toy was positioned at his entrance, and with a quick thrust, it was inside him, stretching him wider than he'd ever been before.

the pain was intense, but it only served to fuel feitan's brattiness. "is that all you've got?" he goaded, his voice strained but determined. "i can take more than that!"

(name's) smile grew, and he began to move the toy in and out, twisting it as he went, making feitan's eyes roll back in his head. "oh, i know you can," he said, "but the question is, will you beg for it?"

and with that, he began to pick up the pace, driving the toy deeper and deeper into feitan's ass, the black-haired man's moans and curses filling the room as he struggled to keep his pride intact.

feitan's breath came in ragged gasps as the toy stretched him, filling him to the brim. his body was on fire, his muscles straining against the sensation of being so thoroughly used. but he wouldn't give in. he wouldn't beg. not yet.

(name's) eyes glinted with determination, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. "come on, feitan," he growled, "give in to the pleasure. beg for more."

but feitan only gritted his teeth and dug his nails into the sheets, refusing to break. the pleasure-pain bordering on agony was almost too much to bear, but he knew that if he gave in now, he'd never hear the end of it. his eyes rolled back in his head as he felt the toy brush against something deep inside him, triggering a shockwave of pleasure through his entire body.

"that's it", (name) whispered, his voice laced with lust. "you like that, don't you? you want more." his hips began to move faster, his thrusts more powerful. "say it," he demanded. "tell me you want more."

feitan's chest heaved as he struggled to keep his composure, but his voice, when it came out, was a hoarse whisper. "more," he managed to choke out. "please."

word count: 1,272

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jjkamochoso · 7 months ago

Text

Order Up!

Fluff

Feitan Portor x gn!reader

Feitan would do anything to keep you happy--including threatening a chef who messes up your order.

Warnings: mentions of violence and blood, some suggestive dialogue

"Feitan! Please, will you eat there with me?"

You and Feitan had been enjoying your free time without jobs lately. The last heist the whole Phantom Troupe was on had a huge payout meaning you could live more than comfortably for a while and you figured this was the best time to try the super fancy restaurant you had been eyeing ever since you stepped foot in the city you and your boyfriend were staying in. Feitan had his cowl pulled up but you could tell he was frowning.

"Why waste money? Good food for cheaper elsewhere."

You wore a pout, hoping to convince the stubborn man. "But it's our one chance to enjoy a nice date! We don't have opportunities like this often, you know."

Feitan couldn't disagree with that. There were times where you two had to survive on eating food from a trash can and now you were practically drowning in money. He still didn't like the idea of spending so much on something that wasn't tangible, though. He'd much rather save his money and steal you something nice that you could keep forever, like jewelry.

"I could wear that outfit you love so much," you suggested, turning on your charm the best you could. "What do you think, Fei?"

You heard him growl softly and you knew you broke his resolve.

"Fine. I take you there. Go get ready."

You couldn't contain your excitement as you gave him a quick hug and ran off to the shower in your hotel room. The person whose credit card you stole must've had deep pockets because you'd been staying here for about a month and haven't been kicked out yet. That, or Feitan tracked him down and killed him so he couldn't dispute the charges. Either way, it didn't matter to you since you were relishing the high life while you could. You took your time under the warm water, letting the smell of luxury soap wrap around you. When you were finished, you dried off with a big fluffy towel. As you applied lotion, you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

"Hurry up in there. I take shower too."

You were lucky Feitan couldn't see the shock on your face. He rarely showered and often had a scent of blood that trailed after him. This, of course, didn't bother you as you found him quite attractive in his greasy, metallic smelling state of being, but the fact that he wanted to show you he was taking this date seriously meant the world to you. You rubbed in the last of the lotion and put on your soft white bathrobe. It came with the hotel but it would definitely be leaving with you. You opened the door and hurried out of the way so Feitan could wash off. You let out a surprised gasp as his super fast reflexes caught you off guard, grabbing your hand before you could pass him by. His cowl and jacket were thrown on the floor and you were pulled into his t-shirt clad body, a rare moment of affection from the Spider.

"You smell yummy," he said, his nose rubbing against the crook of your neck, "I could just eat you for dinner instead."

"Feitan!" you whined, feeling your entire body heat up from his words. "As lovely as that sounds, we need actual food."

"Just one bite? A little taste?" he whispered, his razor sharp teeth grazing your now bare shoulder.

As much as you were enjoying this softer side of Feitan, you were getting to that restaurant in a timely fashion.

"Get into the shower or I'll throw you in the bathtub and scrub you like a dog."

He pulled away reluctantly, grey eyes ablaze with something less reminiscent of love and more akin to the blood lust of a predator toying with its prey. Whatever it was, you knew you wouldn't be leaving any time soon if you kept playing into his game.

"Go," you said sternly, pointing to the open bathroom door and pulling your robe back up on your shoulders. Feitan just cackled as he closed the door behind him and you knew tonight was going to be very interesting.

As he emerged from the bathroom, his hair freshly washed and styled, barely worn tuxedo gracing his small frame, Feitan caught a glimpse of you. He was often quiet, choosing to observe rather than speak his mind most times, but for once, he was genuinely speechless. Your outfit brought out your most attractive features and he couldn't stop staring. You felt his gaze from the corner of your eye and started to feel a bit self conscious being under such serious scrutiny.

"Is it too much? I think maybe I should change-"

Feitan cut you off with words in his native tongue. You were too afraid to ask what he said but he continued, effectively answering your question.

"Stunning. You perfect."

Self doubt threatened to overcome you but you swallowed it down. Feitan doesn't lie and certainly doesn't sugarcoat anything. If he said something, it was the truth. To him, you were everything he could ever ask for. To you, he was the whole world.

"You look handsome yourself, my love. Thank you for doing this for me."

"This for us. We deserve it."

You two put the finishing touches on your outfits, you attaching Feitan's bowtie while he clasped your jewelry. Walking out of the hotel lobby, you turned many heads as onlookers watched you with jealousy. You were a sight to behold, the true definition of a power couple. The walk to the restaurant was short and you were there before you knew it. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Feitan opened the door for you. The ambiance inside was like nothing you had ever seen. It was dark, no overhead lighting to be seen, and candles were lit everywhere your eyes landed. There was someone playing the piano in a corner of the restaurant and you overheard one of the staff members talking about a reservation for a big name celebrity that was going to be there later. You were almost overwhelmed by the whole atmosphere being completely foreign to you but were brought back down to earth by Feitan's hand barely resting on your lower back. You knew he wasn't into touching or PDA of any kind so you wondered if he was turning to you for reassurance in this strange place as well. You gave him a soft smile as you walked up to the hostess. Feitan told her a name the reservation was under, which surprised you. There was no way he could've gotten one without you noticing, especially in only a few hours. You were fully expecting to have to wait for an open spot so when she quickly ushered the two of you to a secluded table, you were taken aback. You thanked her as she left menus for you to peruse.

"Did you do this for me?" you asked, gesturing to the table.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Feitan didn't give you a verbal response but you knew he took your appreciativeness to heart. He didn't want to spoil the romantic mood right now but couldn't wait to tell you how he tracked down the maitre d' in record time and offered to help him lose some weight in the form of less limbs if he didn't secure the best table for you. You saw the menu didn't have prices and you knew you were in for one expensive meal, but you were practically vibrating with excitement to try one of everything. Feitan still didn't get the appeal of this place but he wasn't going to put a damper on your fun so he stayed silent as you rambled off your order. He put in his order as well and the waiter was off, leaving you to bask in the candlelight.

"This must be the life that boss lives every night," you mused, earning a slight smile from the man across from you. As you waited for your food, you both chatted about whatever crossed your minds at the time, enjoying the calm dining experience. Your appetizers finally came and you dug right in. You had never eaten anything so delicious in your entire life. You didn't even know food could taste like this! As you devoured your helping, Feitan was more apprehensive. The presentation of his dish was much too fancy. People eat like this every day? He didn't understand it but wasn't going to keep putting much thought to something that didn't really matter. When the food hit his tastebuds, he was pleasantly surprised. The composition may look silly, putting that much work into something that wouldn't last more than a few minutes, but it was so flavorful. You sneaked a bite off each other's plates, complimenting one another on your choices. You eagerly awaited the main course as Feitan was coming to terms with wasting his money here. When your new plates were set down in front of you, Feitan immediately put his fork into it and started shoveling. You, on the other hand, frowned.

"Aww man! I asked for no cheese."

You heard a loud clink of silverware striking porcelain. Feitan had dropped his fork and reached for your plate while you swatted him away.

"What are you doing?"

His eyes narrowed. "You no like it? They fix for you. I make sure."

"It's not a big deal, I promise," you sighed, but he wasn't having it.

"They mess up, they fix. You don't eat what you don't want. Not today, not ever."

He was usually headstrong but you had never seen him so adamant about something.

"Okay, if you want, you can let them know. Just, please, be nice about it? I want to be able to come back here in the future."

Feitan's smile did nothing to quell your fears; that made you worry even more about what he was planning to do. When he stalked off into the kitchen with your plate, you gathered your things to be ready to make a run for it in case the police were called.

Feitan was just beginning to not hate this place when they had the audacity to mess up your order. Of course he was going to fix it, he wasn’t going to let you eat something you didn't find enjoyable. He meandered into the kitchen, kicking open the doors loud enough to gather everyone's attention in there.

"Which one of you cook this?" he asked, showcasing the plate before resting it on the counter. A few of the staff rushed toward him, faces red with anger.

"You can't be in here!" one of them yelled. The staff member went to grab Feitan to drag him out but Feitan acted fast, grabbing a knife from the block and slamming the guy's hand down on the counter. He kept the knife poised over one of the man's fingers, drawing blood, as he addressed everyone.

"If you no answer question, man's fingers will be chopped like carrot. Who cooked this?"

One chef nervously stepped away from the others, raising his hand in trepidation. "I-I did, s-sir. Was it not to... to your satisfaction?"

"My partner asked no cheese. Cheese was there. You fix or your eyeballs end up in spaghetti. Got it?"

The chef, fighting back tears, shook his head and quickly re fired the dish. Feitan, now content, released the first man he apprehended and hurried back to you. He would never want to keep you waiting unnecessarily.

When Feitan came back, you were relieved that no one was screaming and his tuxedo wasn't covered in blood.

"I take it that it went well?" you asked.

"Yep. Your food will be out soon. Right, this time."

"You didn't have to do that for me. But thank you for showing you care."

You couldn't tell if it was a trick of the light or if his eyes actually softened for a second.

"You're welcome. I care all the time. I try to show more."

You reached over and gave his hand a short squeeze and he readily accepted it. When your main course came out again, the waiter dropped it off and practically ran away, leaving you happy with your correct order and Feitan happy at the fear he ignited in the staff.

"Better?" he asked, taking a bite of his own meal.

"Much," you replied.

The rest of the night went smoothly and the waiter informed you that the bill was being covered by the chef who messed up your main course. In addition, he comped two desserts as a sign of good faith and you were elated when they arrived at your table.

"You're not gonna have anything?" you asked, a big piece of cake dangling from the confines of your spoon. Feitan looked you up and down, a mischievous smirk appearing on his face.

"I'm saving room for my dessert at home."

#feitan portor #feitan x reader #feitan #phantom troupe x reader #feitan x reader fluff #fluff #feitan porter x reader #feitan portor x reader #phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader fluff #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hxh x you #hxh x y/n

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illubean · 8 months ago

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Can you do would diff Hunter X Hunter characters care if they had a short s/o if you haven’t already? (like 4’11, 5 foot)

HXH With a Short!S/o

Characers: Kurapika Kurta, Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Feitan Porter Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

I've already written a Chrollo version which you can read here

Warnings: none

Kurapika Kurta

he doesn't really pay much mind to your height

it doesn't bother him or anything and its not like he could change your genetics

he's a huge help though

if you can't reach something he'll grab it for you and makes sure there's a stool in the house for times he's not around

Kurapika is around average height (some people still think 5'7 is short for a guy tho) sooo sometimes he needs the stool tool... (for some reason the kitchen cabinets in my house are SO HIGH UP)

Leorio Paladaknight

he's the tallest one out of all the characters on this list soo good luck

he's also the biggest tease about it too

he likes to lean his arm on the top of your head, pretend not to see you when you call him or hold things over your head and watch you jump for them

it's annoying. kick him in the shins.

sometimes when you try to give him kisses he likes to stand as straight as possible so you either have to climb him somehow or make him double over in pain lean down

Illumi Zoldyck

he's about a foot (if not more) taller than you so he will quite literally look over you

not even in a teasing way or anything he just genuinely did not see you

tbh he has no interest in you like at all unless you have some sort of ability or skill that makes up for your lack in height 🧍‍♂️

sooo being his s/o you've found a way to use your height to your advantage when it comes to combat

Illumi dates to marry and eventually have kids so if you're capable of birth he really really hopes his kids do NOT get the short gene 😭

Feitan Porter

Feitan is already only like 5'1 so if you're STILL shorter than that...I have no words

he doesn't give you shit for being short since he can relate to you

if anyone makes fun of either of you for your height he will beat them up

one upside to you guys being around the same height is you don't have to lean too far to kiss him <3

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luffyvace · 11 months ago

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HIIII hru !!! may i please ask for some feitan fluffs hcs 😩 i love this tiny man with all my soul

IM DOING GOOD!! YES YOU MAY!!! I ACTUALLY HAVE SUCH A DEEP ROOTED LOVE FOR HIM I DONT TALK ABOUT HIM OFTEN ENOUGH💥💥

(omg this reminds me i’m supposed to be doing the whole troupe and chuuya x male reader- i’m so all over the place but the point is another dabble of feitan hcs will be here in the future! 😋)

also ooc/fanon him since this is fluff :)

tw: death…and torture (i use “unalive” instead of d!e/k!ll)

alrighty so you said fluff headcanons and it’s highly likely you’ll get fluffy feitan if you’ve known each other for a long time (since meteor)

i’m going to dabble in reader that is both in and outside of the troupe because i can :)

so for reader that’s in the troupe first of all no pda

hardly any weakness was displayed besides sadness/anger or mourning (and some funny moments)

theres no need for cuddles during business

unless your like uvo and simply don’t care

then it annoys the crap out of him <3

it’s not like he doesn’t want your affection—just not in public

will cuddle you in private tho

y’all usually sit there in silence or read together

he can be a little spoon or big spoon it doesn’t bother him

he tries his best but he’s never let anyone else so close to him before

if you introduce something to him and he likes it he’ll do it back

because why would you do it to him if you wouldn’t want it done to you right?

im gonna assume you have either a apartment which you unalived the owner of or y’all live in meteor still

he’ll let you choose really he doesn’t care where you stay

he’d even unalive a high status person to steal their mansion if that’s what you want

your obviously strong and have some sort of nen if your in the troupe so he doesn’t bother worrying

although if your like kortopi he’ll stay vigilant for you

even though you can use nen to defend yourself as well

btw if your not a pda person the troupe is grateful

aint no body wanna see allat-

he doesn’t know how to cook or clean and since your both from meteor so i hope you learn or already know how

otherwise y’all eat what y’all can when y’all can

whether you steal a five star gourmet meal or just wait for the next opportunity like a vending machine

i don’t advise you ask for a pet by the way

he’ll tortu£ it and i’m not talking about strapping it down or anything

just purely scarring them 😭

if you be firm about him stopping he will

unless it’s a big scary dog or smth

then he’s more likely to take em under his wing and train them to be vicious

will scare people with said animal

for stay at home reader…. (most of these also apply for troupe reader<3)

i say stay at home bc with his portion of money you could buy anything you want

if you tell him what you want u can get it for free cuz he steals it

but

if you want to take a bath together it would take more than a god to convince him

seriously he sees no reason in it

once you do tho

at first he is on one end of the tub and your on the other

as time goes on he’ll let you lean back into his chest as he scrubs your hair

he lets you play in his hair

don’t tell ANYONE

he don’t like vulnerability so if you tell someone he won’t do it for like 2 weeks

you think he’s never gonna do it again until you crawl into his lap while he’s reading on the bed and ask really sweetly

he’s all yours after that

HIS HAIR IS SO FLUFFY!!

and yes he lets you play with it :)

you get to put it into all types of styles!!

especially since it’s a decent length!

not really interested in playing in your hair

he tries but the rubber band always ends up tangled in your hair

if you kiss him goodnight he will start to initiate it as well

thats one thing he will forever reciprocate

loves your humor

no matter the type

but he especially loves when you laugh at his dark jokes

youve seen him smile before 💖

warms your heart knowing no one else gets this side of him

not judgmental of your looks for obvious reasons

yall got bigger problems

dismisses anytime you degrade yourself

he be speaking facts

”the way your hair looks gonna unalive you?”

”your pimples will st^b you while sleeping?”

no? you goofy goober so why does it matter

don’t argue him on this

genuinely doesn’t like the idea of you being hurt

by him or someone else

dont expect anyone who does harm to you to see the tomorrow sun

even if you plead for them don’t waste your breath pleading you need to be saying goodbye

real loyal partner

as loyal to you as he is the troupe

you and the troupe are his forever commitments

no matter what he could never stop loving you

you guys practically never argue

hes not necessarily hotheaded but will say what’s on his mind and if someone disagrees he does it anyway

thing is he compensates with you💗

if he knows your nitpicking he ignores it but if it’s genuinely something you don’t like he won’t fight it

also he cleans up well if you don’t like to see blood/gore in your place after he’s done t•rturing someone

he respects and listens to your opinions and feelings

would love if your a sadistic person as well but he understands if your not

also if your not in the troupe he teaches you nen

only the troupe knows your together and where you stay for your safety

your safety is definitely on his priority list

truly cares about and loves you

enjoy!!!! i’ll prob come back and read my own hcs bc I LOVE HIM

thank you for this request i loved writing every letter of it♡

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ataraxiaspainting · 9 months ago

Text

Cherry Wine.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Synopsis: It is your last day of actual freedom, and Chrollo intends to have it end with a mix of your design and his own. Everything is perfectly set. All he has to do now is wait for you to come into the web.

Warnings: Yandere themes, a wild Feitan appears, stalking, drugging/restraining (chloroform/handcuffs), and kidnapping.

Word Count: 1k.

*~*~*~*

A familiar jingle accompanies the turntable’s rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers. It is your keychain, moving with your key as you unlock your apartment door, moving as your feet shuffle on your doormat to get rid of the dirt the soles had acquired from walking. The sounds of tired sighs, your headphones being placed beside the rack where your jackets and umbrellas and shoes are placed. Chrollo knows all of these melodies by heart because those notes make up the beautiful orchestra that is you.

He hears the little creaking noise of the door closing, along with the lock being turned, sealing your fate. A small sound of the closet you keep near the entrance, which holds your bags and fancier footwear like high heels. Chrollo respected the silent rule of never wearing shoes inside, something that is out of character for him whenever he breaks into other peoples’ homes, and had placed his own black loafers behind that one expensive purse you only used one time for a presentation you had to make for your professors and peers.

He had Shalnark record the entire thing and has rewatched it multiple times, each one seeming better than the last.

Everything about you, from how you walked, how you were so expressive with your facial expressions, how you seemed to be able to befriend anyone, everything about you felt like it came from another world. Or perhaps he is the one who came from another world, metaphorically? Chrollo chuckles at the thought. It would make sense, really, Meteor City felt like another world, that is for certain.

One of your cats meows loudly, the larger but older one from the way the meow was scratchy like nails on a blackboard, most likely being right next to you. He is distressed, perhaps. Chrollo is an unwanted visitor, after all, and despite being more of a cat person, he had to deal with your cats more than your dog, oddly enough. While your dog cowered and hid under the table, whining like she had been reduced to that of the small puppy she was when you first adopted her, your cats teamed up to attempt to scratch his eyes out whenever they jumped on the kitchen table or couch, hissing and possibly screaming bloody murder. Somewhere deep within Chrollo’s heart, it hurts a bit.

He knows that because of your naivety, you will just pet the cat, take off your coat, and your boots, and go upstairs, where your dining table has been set by Chrollo. It’s a welcome gift, in Chrollo’s opinion, but also perhaps an apology one as well.

As soon as you walk into the kitchen, your fate is as doomed as a little fly caught in a spider’s web.

“Come on,” You grumble. “Already? Geez. I just got that bag too…” Are you talking to your cat? “What the hell? I know you have stomach problems but… gosh.”

Ah. Do you plan on switching out the brand of cat food again?

“I guess that’s my own fault though for getting a cat I knew has digestive issues, huh? I can’t be mad at you. You’re almost the same age as me and… that’s a lot in cat years.” Chrollo hears the sound of a yawn as he presumes you are stretching. You must be tired, you have been on your feet all day today helping out your peers with their assignments, as usual. “It’s just now I have to clean up all this puke… argh.”

Should I speed things along?

A text message from Feitan, who has been outside your apartment door, though you didn’t see him, unsurprisingly. He is most likely getting annoyed, from the tone of the writing, because Feitan can be doing much more important things for the Troupe instead of helping you “settle in” as Chrollo put it.

That won’t be necessary. Trust me. Everything is going as planned so far, even if this is a minor setback.

The reason why Chrollo didn’t choose someone like Phinks or Nobunaga to help him with this task is because Feitan is the most silent. He can easily imagine the other two scaring you away accidentally if they accidentally lose their cover.

The table is set, with flowers and books and other things you love. All he has to do is wait.

You should have just brought Machi.

Chrollo sighs at that, just barely audible. But he knows Feitan is nothing but loyal to him, so he knows that he will not try anything that he does not like.

Machi is busy shopping with Paku and Shizuku for the other things I need for [First], it would be rude to ruin their own task, Fei.

With that, Chrollo’s message is left on read.

Everything is going according to plan, and Feitan will not ruin it, even if he had wanted to.

All that is left is to wait. You’ll come on your own.

Feitan is only here if you attempt to run afterward, after you see your gifts, after all.

He hears footsteps, coming up the stairs, at long last.

One.

Two.

A large meal is placed on the side of the table that has an empty chair. Chrollo sits across, smiling. Plates and bowls filled with things that are sweet, savory, and everything else in between. They are all your favorites, Chrollo double-checked with Shalnark before he had left. Other items are placed on the table as well, like that jewelry set you were eyeing last week but unfortunately was too expensive for you. You were trying to limit how much you spend, a good habit to build surely. It is a shame you will never get to use that skill, though. Unless Chrollo gives you an allowance each week based on how well you behave, an entertaining concept in his opinion, but if it ever becomes reality it will have to wait a few weeks at the very least.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Chrollo also had Feitan carry handcuffs, in case the chloroform does not work as it was intended to.

But that is after you two talk, it would be rude to not introduce himself and show off everything he has bought for you.

Seven.

#aya abstractions #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #yandere hxh x reader #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x reader

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jujutsukgojo · 4 months ago

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Can you see me too?

feitan x reader

Summary:

“Can you see me too?” He leans in slightly, your hands still in his. You don’t know how to actually answer that. You’re looking right at him so that can’t be what he means. Or that you see him everyday at school. Feitan is asking something deeper, something you were probably wrong about. “I’m learning too, Feitan.”

tw: mention of violence, drugs, fluff. ooc Feiten? a VERY quick write might be mistakes

“Dismissed.”

You stretch your legs before getting up. It’s happening again, that heavy feeling that creeps up on you. This has been happening a lot and you don’t like it. The chill is running up your back, making you stiff. Quickly, you gather your things and leave. Being one of the first ones out of the class, the sensation of someone’s eyes leaves.

Taking a deep breath, you begin to relax for a moment. Lately, someone’s been watching you and you are too afraid to see who it is. At first, you wanted to turn around and spot the gremlin. However, the person who was next to you had fear in his eyes when he looked over your shoulder. After seeing that, you gave up that idea. Especially when you had a feeling of who it or they were.

Being a senior, there is a group that grew up with you in elementary before you moved away for some time. Unfortunately, rather than just be normal human beings, the rumors say otherwise. Shady shit that’s illegal and atrocious. Violence and blood paint their fingertips like polish, the red not leaving without prayer for the sin. And possibly, if the rumors are true, the drugs that leave the addicts and the curious in a trance.

At first, you just addressed them by their names since you all went to school together. But by the time everyone went into high school, they collectively were called the Phantom Troupe, or the Spider. You want to laugh at the name of their little gang since they were big nerds back in the third grade plays.

Their acting troupe name.

Hearing it for the first time, you didn’t take it seriously until you saw it with your own eyes. Each of them ganged up on a group from another school. The Troupe was vicious and merciless. Only a few witnessed the fight, you being one of them on accident. You barely saw what scared the hell out of everyone.

Someone lost their eyes. You could see a few moments of the fight but you missed that gruesome part. And thank God you did.

After that, you became fearful and no longer saw them as the kids that shared a class with you since kindergarten.

Now, the eyes that have been watching you everyday, you are sure it belongs to one of them. Or maybe that one stiff doll-like guy Illumi? Or the Troupe’s newest member that is the biggest flirt and an absolute freak, Hisoka.

When people talk to you, they must see who's watching. The reactions are all the same. Even your friend who is quick to grab you and lead you away from the stalker.

Did you do something wrong? Are they after you or something? Want to sell you some drugs? That little one with the long hair, Kortopi, always stands in the corners watching everyone whenever he’s not with his gang. You’re sure he’s the main dealer. Just look at him.

So badly do you want to turn around and stomp into the classroom and demand who the fuck has been staring at you. Alas, it’s not a smart move. At least not right now. After you put your school shoes in your cubby, you feel it again. That cold intensity that causes you to shiver. For the first time, you feel it closer. Like, a few feet away type thing.

You shove your regular shoes on and take off out the door, not bothering to wait and say goodbye to your friend. On your way home, you still feel the eyes on you. This is exhausting beyond belief. This is worse than gym class.

How long can this person keep this up? Why are they watching you in the first place? Do they just want to talk to you and they’re too shy? If that’s the case, you’d show some leniency since you can be a bit of a shy bug, too.

As you turn the corner and see the small, family owned diner to your left, the eyes disappear. You walk faster with a light and peppy step. They could have gone home and abandoned the stalking.

Suddenly, you’re against a tree with someone’s arms placed firmly against it, trapping you. The sun has decided to shine brightly and highlight his face. It is none other than Feitan Portor.

Never have the two of you been so close. Not friendly or physically. His lower face is covered by a cowl for some reason and his eyes are, surprisingly, looking like they’re different colors. They’re dark, but one is slightly deeper. His cheekbones are defined and right on top are slight freckles against his ghostly pale skin.

Words are stolen for what feels like minutes. Finally, your fears get the best of you.

“Oh my God…you want to sell me drugs?” You are on the verge of crying when he has narrowed eyes. “My mom’s gonna be so mad at me. I don’t want drugs!”

“Fei, is this her?” A tall blond, Phinks, if you remember right, comes around the corner with extremely light steps. The rest of the Troupe appear too. “No, God no. Don’t sell me drugs!”

They all stop and look at you. Each bearing an expression fit for a sitcom scene.

“She’s not allowed to be high. Look at her, she’s the paranoid type.” The biggest one, Uvo, states. “She’s gonna turn herself in for something she didn’t even do.”

Dear Lord, they already know how high you’d be? What are they planning? You can’t go home like that.

Portor says nothing. He doesn’t even bother to ask which drug you’d want. Phinks steps forward. “Look, Fe-”

“Oh God…I don’t have money! Stopping giving me drugs.” Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head slowly, facing the ground.

“We didn’t…give you anything? No one wants to give you drugs. Trust me.” You hear someone promise.

“Why you here?” He asks with his whispery voice.

“Because I was going home and you-” He shuts you up with one look.

They talk among themselves while Feitan Portor doesn’t move himself away from you. Your mom is going to be pissed if you come with drugs.

“Is it crack?” You whisper. ��For God’s sake-stop that! No one is going to give you anything!” Machi puts her hand on her hips as she yells at you.

“Is it, like, a toe? An eyeball? Please no, no-”

Porter’s soft voice cuts through yours. “Stop.”

“Mom’s going to be so mad at me if I have a random toe again.” You try to wiggle out from his trap with no avail.

He grabs your head. “Enough,” He turns around to face his friends, covering you. Well, somewhat since he’s on the smaller side. “Go.”

Immediately you realize that command is for you, and you take off.

---

The next day is no better. He is still staring at you but at a closer distance. He moved someone from their seat just to sit behind you. And at lunch, he sat at another table facing you. He must want something, especially when he barely shows up for school. And now he does?

It’s drugs or blackmail. Murder?

Before the day was even over, the principal called for an assembly. Begrudgingly, you enter the gym and stay close to the edge rather than the stairs. You look around for your friend but find Portor next to you instead. His thigh touches yours contently. There is not a single thing out of place with him. He looks like this is normal, regular for you two to be this close. Everyone else has a few inches between them yet he wants to be glued to you.

You say nothing to object. In the corner sits your friend. She “subtly” points her finger at him and mouths what he’s doing. You can’t make any sudden movements or he’ll notice.

“You answer her?” His voice is so soft, almost drowned out from the teenagers that the principal slowly reins in. Lucky for him, his mouth is close to your ear.

“No need. It’s, um, like, right here. She can see this.”

He furrows his brows and asks, “Is it bad?”

You shift awkwardly, fully realizing that you’re brushing up against him. “N-no, just surprising. I mean, we haven’t talked since elementary.”

He looks forward and says with confidence, “That change. We talk now.”

Why?

The principal goes on about the violence in school and how it will not be tolerated. If this continues, he will sort out that police will patrol the school. You side eye Feitan Portor who still wears his cowl covering his lower face but cannot hide his smile.

You’re scared.

When the assembly is over, you jump up and try to walk down the seats rather than pass Portor to go to the stairs. A teacher yells to stop walking on the benches. You ignore her completely and blend with the crowd. Your heart is pounding. You rub your chest in an attempt to calm it. Suddenly, you feel something pressed against you right as you are seconds away from the door.

“God!” You shout as you see that he is right next to you with his hands in his jacket’s pockets. “Let’s go.”

“W-what about your friends? They gotta be looking for you.” He walks towards you, causing you to press against the wall and walk to the door. It’s like he’s herding you out the door. You walk stiffly next to him. The sun is hiding behind the clouds, causing the shadows to emphasize his paleness.

Your bag and book is snatched out of your hand. He’s carrying it and continues to walk. “H-hey!”

“Walk.” Why is he carrying your stuff? Is it collateral or something? He’s holding them hostage? Oh God, what if he wants you to do something illegal or sexual in exchange for your stuff?

Quietly, the two of you walk to that familiar tree. “Where’s your home?”

No, no, he can’t walk you home. He’ll know where you live and that would be awful. Him having that kind of information? That’s deadly. “I-I can go the rest of the way. You probably have to head home too.”

You reach for your things. “No. Where is it?”

“I don’t have one.” You lie. The things he could do with your address…Lord have mercy. “Lie. Where is it? I take you home.”

“I can go-”

“(Y/n).” He remembers your name? You remember his because so much has happened and the whole class were friends. Since you didn’t talk when you moved back this year, you didn’t think he’d remember you.

“Portor…”

“I walk you.” Too scared, you just agree and walk to your house with the short guy in tow. Your house comes to view. “Oh, your dad’s?”

“How did-”

“Pool?” Your eyes dart around until you remember that you hosted a pool party once. There was a slip and slide, a kiddie pool, and sprinklers. Everyone had fun and sandwiches and chips. A few of your classmates didn’t have swimsuits so your dad had them wear old shirts for them so they could play too. Now that you think of it, he was one of those that didn’t have anything.

“I can’t believe you remember that.” Everything to do with your dad is mostly tucked away from your mind. Portor bringing up a memory that you vowed to cherish makes you remember how much fun everything was. It was so long ago, though. Times and people change regularly. There is no reason to hold onto a memory that didn’t last long enough, right?

“I remember that what’s-his-name slid right through the slip and slide and into the fence.” You snap your fingers repeatedly trying to remember his name. Feitan is still friends with him.

“Bonolenov. He wore bandages for a while.”

“Ah, I remember that. It still didn’t slow him down.” The two of you stand there in silence. “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me home.”

You reach for the bag but he walks out of your reach and heads to the door. His steps are so quiet they don’t even disturb the bugs that tread along the sidewalk to your house.

He stops at your door, waiting for you. “I walk you home. Not on the sidewalk.” Even though he’s surrounded with violence and blood, you can’t deny that this is sweet. Suspicious as hell, but sweet nonetheless.

“Thank you Portor.” You bounce on your feet. “It was nice talking to you.” And for reminding me of that sunny memory.

When you finally finish the day, you don’t feel as scared as you did for some reason.

“So…what’s going on? Where’s your shadow?” Your friend whispers lowly. There is a nice breeze that refreshes the overheated students. Unfortunately, there is a terrible heat advisory that is really showing its head. You have a loose blue tank top on and blue jeans which you wished you’d traded for something shorter. If this heat is making you wear a tank top and wish for shorts or a skirt, then it is hotter than satan’s breath.

Speak of the devil and he’ll appear, cutting right through the crowd of students under the shade, Chrollo and his posse silently intimidate those who hid under the leaves of the school’s trees. You can’t help but roll your eyes. They throw their weight around like a 1950s gang with leather jackets and a comb to fix their over gelled hair. Hell, Chrollo actually looks like the part.

Your friend groans next to you and fans herself and you do the same. The principal is expecting too much. You and the rest of the crowd are liable to run back inside if they don’t finish this fire drill.

“It isn’t a drill, you know.” She whispers yet again. You turn to her, confused. “What’re you talking about?”

“Do you wonder why they were the last ones out?”

“What do you think happened?” She shrugs. “I have no idea. But it’s suspicious. People are whispering about this. I mean, isn’t it weird? This happens right after the assembly that was basically for them?”

You contribute to her curiosity. “Not to mention the lack of patrols…”

“Oh no, there were some. Where are they now, though? They were here this morning.”

You want to change the subject. For some reason, you do feel a slight sliver of protectiveness towards them due to the memories. “This fucking heat. I can’t take this…”

Then, a shadow stands in front of you. “Come.”

“No.” She grabs your wrist, frowning at Portor. She doesn’t trust him at all. Honestly, she has a right not to. All of the rumors that are whispered through the walls surround him like a blanket. And his demeanor doesn't help his case. “Why?” You cut in.

“Come with me.” Everyone is staring at the exchange. “This isn’t funny, Portor. Pick on someone else.”

You put your other arm around her protectively. “Um, I’ll go. It’s fine.” You try to reassure her in some kind of way. “Then I’m coming too. What’s one more person?”

His cowl isn’t very good at hiding his expressions. He leads the two of you without a word. Under the tree is so much cooler than you expected. You feel bad for the others.

“Don’t worry, there are no drugs.” Phinks says, causing his other friends to laugh at your expense.

“What’s he talking about?” Your friend leans in and “whispers”.

“They tried to make me take drugs.” You answer. Honestly, you can’t get over that. Not the drug part but how he trapped you against a tree. It was scary and unexpected.

“No we didn’t!” Machi or Mochi corrects with her hands on her hips. Your friend rolls her eyes at her. Normally, your friend is a little on the timid side. But when it comes to these guys, she shows her dislike as if she doesn’t shake when ordering food.

Portor tugs you down to the ground for you to sit. Your legs are at the side of you, curled. The normally timid friend sits in between you and Portor. “I don’t trust him…”

“You can’t whisper at all.” You tell her. She looks offended and pouts. The only noises are the few murmurs among the schoolmates and the subtle wind in the air. Still, there has been no word from the teachers. Perhaps your friend was right.

“Move.” Portor’s voice is soft yet firm. He stares directly at your friend with an indifferent expression. She scoffs and answers with a no. “Absolutely not.”

“Babe, I don’t think this is a good idea.” You actually whisper. She turns to you wearing a frown. “And these people have good ones?”

“You have no idea.” Bonolenov says. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not. There is a tense feeling in the atmosphere that reminds you of anxiety. That fight or flight response that just won’t go away as you sit in front of them.

“Babe…please do what he says.” You squeeze her hand once. With nonverbal agreement, she moves over for him to sit next to you. “I sit here, okay?”

“Okay, Portor.” Your friend glares at everyone. She is rightfully suspicious of everyone. There are so many negative things said that taints their image. And their teasing isn’t doing them any favors against the allegations.

Your thighs touch his on accident. The wind gives a harsh blow, slightly moving his cowl. You spot a flush on his cheeks. “Are you hot? Why not take this off?”

You give light tugs to his jacket. “No.”

“This?” You gently move the fabric from his face. His cheeks are warm and have a youthful roundness to them. “There’s no reason to bake in the sun.”

He removes it then to your surprise, gives it to you. You thank him and don’t mention that his face is red. If you were vain, you’d think it’s because of you. But the sun is out and it’s hot.

Your friend is bug eyed at the sight with her head cocked slightly.

“So, this has been weird. We’re going home.” She picks you up by your arm and makes way out of the shade. You are quickly pulled towards your shadow. “Go away.”

“Portor…”

“And leave her with you? ” She points to him. His face hardens and before anyone can make a move, you rush to intervene. “It’s alright!” You say a little too quickly and grab his hand and leave. She shouts at you as you run away. “Toots! Are you crazy?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You yell back at her. “If you live that long! He even smells insane!”

“ Bye!”

You take him and run, completely sure that you’re safe. Maybe it’s because he was nice to you and remembered the pool party. It could be how quiet he is, not needing to fill the silence. It’s relaxing that way.

“Here we are.” You stop in front of your house again. The plain beige paneling and the lackluster decor. The lawn needs to be mowed, you note.

Just as you are about to head inside your home, he grabs your hand and leads you away. His hands have calluses on them and are bigger than yours. They are paler than the upper part of his face, too. He puts them in his pockets and occasionally wears gloves, so that could be the culprit.

You turn around and look back at your house. Feitan squeezes your hand roughly and yanks you. You frown and debate on tugging it free. Like he read your mind, he pulls you closer. His already thin eyes squint in suspicion.

The little shop is small and has large windows with writing on them. The drawings are clearly done by kids. A sun in the upper corner, a tiny snowman with a large nose and a crooked hat, and so many more.

The bell dings when the two of you open the door. The old man at the counter perks up at the sound and smiles widely at you.

“Well aren’t you cute!” The old man coos. The apples of his cheeks are red and his smile makes his laugh lines more prominent, a testimony of the joy in his life. His brown eyes are small but they have a twinkle in them. He reminds you of Old Saint Nick but without the beard.

Portor holds two fingers up. “Crepe.” The old man puts his hand on his chin then leans into Portor’’s ear. The old baker doesn’t notice the glare he’s getting or the danger leaking from him.

“How about you two share?” He whispers. Portor side eyes the old man. The guy clicks his tongue and finger guns at Portor. All the while, he remains silent.

“What flavor?”

“Um, what would you like?” You don’t know if he likes the same thing as you. He answers with confidence. “Chocolate. You like chocolate.”

“Well, how about the lover’s special? It’s the right amount of sweet and pretty, just like your lady.” Your cheeks get warm and you instinctively cover them.

“My lady would like something to drink.” My lady. Just what is he getting at? You haven’t talked to him since the science fair or a play, maybe? Nah, he’s probably being sarcastic because of what the old man said.

“One lover’s twist, coming up.”

You see a table and walk towards it then are interrupted by the older man who decides to direct you to a red booth that has a rounded top. If you were to look at it right, it’d remind you of a heart. “The lighting is better over here, if I may.”

Portor sits in front of you as quiet as ever. “Why did you want to come here? I’m sure you and your friends have something to do.”

Something illegal, no doubt.

Portor taps his fingers on the table. His eyes snap to yours when he catches you staring at his long fingers.

“You know already.” You frown and think back. You don’t have a clue and he’s looking at you expectantly. Right before you could ask some more questions, the old man brings out the crepe and a shake that has a cherry on top with two straws coming out of the tall glass. You thank him and dig into the shake first. As you are sipping, Portor does the same. In the corner of your eye, you see the old man trying to make it seem like he isn’t paying attention to you.

You take a small bite of the crepe. The flavor bursts in your mouth. The sweetness isn’t too sweet but does hit the spot. You take another bite and chew slowly, realizing that Portor hasn’t touched it. Then, you feel the pad of his thumb brush across the corner of your mouth.

Your cheeks are on fire. “I’m sorry. I’m a messy eater, that’s why I was going slow.”

His face holds no expression. The weird and heavy feeling makes you uncomfortable. “Sorry if I disgusted you.”

“No. You okay.” Eating in front of people has made you a little insecure over the years. Your dad was a messy eater and you got that from him. “Thank you, Portor.”

He stops eating mid chew when you two hear sniffles. The old man at the counter wipes his eyes. “So cute…so many memories.” He whispers.

Afterwards, he walked you home with your hand in his, guiding you back. This entire thing has been so, so weird. Yet it feels…right? Casual or normal. Nothing feels out of place except for the fact that he’s dangerous and scary. It is the shock of randomness that gets you. Walking you home, sitting next to you, and the amount of staring is so jarring it’s a fright on its own.

The anxiety is what you’ve been feeling under his intense stare is like being the center of attention under a microscope. It is uncomfortable. However, the heat in your cheeks isn't from embarrassment as he links his fingers through yours.

“Thank you for the crepe, Portor.”

“ Feitan. Not Portor.” You smile and hum, missing how his cheeks are pink and eyes twinkle for the first time in years. It’s cute.

You come across your house once again, already dreading going inside to face your parent’s wrath for being late and not wanting this day to end. “I had fun, Feitan.”

He’s still holding your hand like it’s something precious he stole. “Me too.”

You don’t make a move to let go and neither does he. You know you should. You should be running away from him. A drug dealer, fighter, gangster, maybe even a murderer or at least will be one. You should pull away. You shouldn’t have entertained this for so long.

Yet you feel content? Happy? Comforted, maybe? There’s a word for it but you don’t know the answer right now. Not when he takes your hand and places a delicate kiss on your knuckle.

So, that’s why. He likes you. As in, like-like. You smile wide and try to hide your face. You’d never thought he’d have a crush on you or anyone for that matter. How sweet this is and what a cherished memory it will be.

And to think, that old man understood before you did.

“Boss said you like that. It’s in books.” Boss? He must mean Chrollo. “Yeah, I do. It’s not everyday I’m treated like this.”

He says nothing for a moment. A moment you cherish so you can regain your thoughts and attempt to stop you from being so flustered. So you can actually see him clearly. His eyes are shiny and his face is slightly flushed. You finally notice that his hair wasn’t in its usual state. Long and slightly unkempt. Instead, it looks smoother and better brushed.

This is a date.

Your first date. Is it his, too?

“I can see you everyday. You smile nice.” He says. His voice is still quiet and now even moreso, wanting to hide the compliment. “You have a nice smile too.”

“Feit-”

“Can you see me too?” He leans in slightly, your hands still in his.

You don’t know how to actually answer that. You’re looking right at him so that can’t be what he means. Or that you see him everyday at school. Feitan is asking something deeper, something you were probably wrong about.

“I’m learning too, Feitan.” You are. In a short amount of time you’ve seen something different. Something that was hiding in plain sight. There are still reservations because of what he does. But that’s it. It isn’t him that holds you back, it is the rumors and the fights. From what you see, this side of Feitan is sweet. This moment is something you’ll keep and hope for more of them.

You can see him.

He kisses your knuckle again. “A start.”

#feitan portor #feitan porter x reader #feitan x reader #hxh feitan #hxh fanfic #fluff fic #hxh #barely edited #q

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after-witch · 1 year ago

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Interdimensional Apartment 4A [Yandere Feitan x Reader]

Title: Interdimensional Apartment 4A [Yandere Feitan x Reader[

Synopsis: Feitan doesn’t know that you’re an interdimensional traveler with a penchant for period films and novels from home at first–but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you.

Word Count: 3000ish

notes: yandere, some violence and blood, stalking

You don’t leave your apartment all that often. You don’t have many friends--though the few you have, you seem close with, a little less guarded, a little less wary. You’re quieter around strangers, around people whom you pass on the way into your apartment but have no connection with otherwise. You like books, and he’s seen you travel to the library and the bookstore more often than anywhere else. Though sometimes your TV blares out from behind the walls of your apartment, with sounds and music unfamiliar to him.

Your appearance is more vibrant than your personality, at least in front of people other than your friends. You have multiple piercings--six, he’s counted, including one of your bellybutton that he glimpsed when you had to reach up high to grab something on a library shelf. When you smile, a gem shows on your teeth; a gem, he thinks, that only your friends have seen, considering your tendency to keep to yourself around others.

You seem normal enough. Quiet enough. Not exactly a wallflower, but not some social butterfly either. Somewhere in between.

So what is it that draws him towards you? What has him returning to your apartment, your space, day after day?

You don’t have nen. You’re not a fighter. You don’t seem to do anything remarkable, day in, day out.

It couldn’t be your ordinariness that attracts him, could it? That is something he left behind so long ago that he doesn’t recall a time when ‘ordinary’ was even in his grasp. Maybe he’s more nostalgic than he knows, and he’s pulled to you for something he can’t have in his own waking life.

Maybe not.

It could be your appearance. You’re pleasant to look at, he can admit. But it’s not like he normally cares about things like that. Maybe he could admit that the way your vibrant pink curls sometimes bounce around while you walk, the way they frame your face, is… nice. Pleasing. Something he thinks about at night a few times, unwilling, before shutting the image out of his head.

It’s you, really, that won’t leave his head. That’s why he’s here right now, in the hallway leading to your apartment. You’re out and about… you probably left before he arrived this morning. Maybe to the bookstore, maybe to the coffee shop. Or both.

It was easy enough to get a copy of your key. Child’s play, really. It’s simpler this way: no need to worry about neighbors hearing a window or door breaking, no signs that he was inside at all. That’s just what he wants. To sit and wait for you to get back, snatch you up, and take you away.

It will help rid him of his incessant thoughts about you, if he’s able to keep you in one place. Then he can simply visit you whenever he wants, and do whatever he wants, and say whatever he wants. He can be satisfied knowing that you are under his thumb and he’s no longer controlled by this pulling, tugging thoughts of you.

Or so he hopes.

The outside of your apartment is an ordinary brown door, and he’s not thinking about it at all until he unlocks it and swiftly enters, locking the door behind him. He’s not thinking about it because why would he assume your apartment is anything but normal--

Only it’s not.

There’s something very, very wrong the moment he enters the apartment. Because once he takes a look around, he sees that it’s impossibly large. Outside, there are two windows: one for each room, a bedroom and the rest of your place. Small. Cheap.

But inside? No, this is not the inside of a one bedroom apartment. You have a large kitchen and a separate dining room, a living room, he spots at least one bathroom and several bedrooms. This is a sprawling house.

He pinches his arm with his fingernails, waiting until blood bubbles up to stop. No, he isn’t dreaming.

Perhaps it’s some type of nen? But he didn’t detect any nen on you. But obviously this is no ordinary space, and you must have some secret he’s missed, despite his dedicated watching of you over the past few weeks.

He takes a tentative step forward. It’s a real floor. Real as anything outside. He walks until he’s in front of shelves shoved up against your wall, stacked with movies. He runs a finger over them. He hasn’t heard of these titles, which wouldn’t normally come to mind but… it makes him wonder. There’s something off about the movies, the way they’re packaged, their names. There’s something off about this place. And you, clearly.

But what?

He waits for only a few moments before making a new plan. He can’t simply kidnap you and take you. Not unless he knows what he’s in for. He leaves just as easily as he came, locking the door with his duplicate key.

Outside, your apartment looks just as small as it always had. But now he knows there’s something secret underneath. Something he’ll need to dig his nails into, pulling the truth out of you, before the end of things.

It’s not the first time you’ve had an inkling that someone has been inside your apartment.

After all, it’s not terribly uncommon for someone to track you down for one reason or another. It’s always been someone from another dimension--yours, most often, but not always--who has been watching your movements through portals before making a move.

True, you weren’t supposed to use dimension travel for such casual means, but who cared about the rules when you were having such fun? It wasn’t like you were the type to go on wild sprees, stealing or robbing or causing havoc in another dimension for popping off to another one.

You were just enjoying life here, occasionally popping back home to grab your favorite things. I mean, how could anyone survive without a copy of James Cameron’s Titanic on DVD, or the full series box set of Sailor Moon? Just quick trips before heading back to your apartment here.

But for once, you don’t think that the person in your room was someone following you from your home dimension or anywhere else that you’ve traveled. There are signs, normally, that they’ve been here--and none of them are present now.

There’s just the soft, innate realization that your space has been occupied by someone who isn’t you. Something primal.

It makes you wonder.

It makes you worry.

Shalnark did most of the legwork here. Feitan will owe him, which isn’t something he likes to do--but it’s worth it, in some cases. Like this one. He’s found out more about you than he might have, even sifting through the belongings of your unusual apartment. Though that hasn’t stopped him from revisiting when you’re not home, taking souvenirs--a book, a knickknack, one of your worn shirts--for his own use.

But it’s Shalnark who tells him the details.

For one, he now knows that you can travel dimensions, or worlds, or whatever it is. It’s not nen that you have, which would explain why he’s never detected anything. It also means that it’s not something which can be stolen from you. He’d never admit it, not with words, but there’s a part of him that is glad the boss won’t get it. Such a talent would surely benefit the Troupe, but it would take something away from you.

And the thought of that doesn’t sit right with him. It’s sour, hard, bitter in his stomach.

The very first time that you see Feitan in your apartment--though you won’t know his name until later--also happens to be the exact moment you stumble back inside, closing the portal behind you in a rush, hands pressed to the bleeding wound on your side.

Feitan is standing there, one of his books in his hand, staring at you with slightly widened eyes. He blinks. Then he looks down, and sees your hands pressed to your shirt, red blood seeping through the shimmering pink fabric of your tank top.

“You’re bleeding,” he says. Shortly. Simply.

You stammer over your words, adrenaline already pumping through you from being attacked, now going even faster at the sight of a stranger in your home.

“Who--who are you?”

He smirks behind his cowl, or you imagine he does, because you can’t see anything beneath it. But the way his eyes crinkle and the gleam in them makes you assume it is a smirk.

“Talk first?” He asks, and something in his voice reminds you of metal. Sharp and tangy. “Or stop the bleeding?”

It’s your turn to blink. Underneath your fingers, warm red seeps out. A slash with a knife. Not too deep… but deep enough to worry you. You swallow, throat dry.

“Stop the bleeding.”

He jerks his head toward the bathroom--your bathroom, in your apartment, where this stranger is for some unknown reason. Your brain doesn’t allow you to think of that right now, with blood pooling between your fingers. Instead it forces you to sit on the toilet and let this stranger pull out a first aid kit, disinfecting and smoothing and sewing up your wound like he’s done this a million times before.

When he’s swiping on the last of the disinfectant over your stitches, your voice returns.

“You’re the one that’s been taking stuff from my apartment. That’s been stalking me.”

The man smirks.

“Smart girl.”

You’re afraid, but you’re not. You’ve seen a lot, done a lot, dealt with a lot. You swallow against the grit of your throat, and glare, despite the pain and blood loss.

“Get out.”

The man blinks at you.

Then he shrugs.

And leaves, without a fight or word.

“Oh, f--” You say, hissing, stopping yourself from swearing entirely.

He should be endeared, but instead, Feitan is listening to the audio tracker he planted in your apartment with an increasingly hot fury.

He hates you. He can’t stop listening. He can’t stop checking in.

He can’t stop thinking about you.

He hates it, even as thinking about you stirs something in his stomach, his chest, every nerve of his body.

“Is it supposed to be oozing?” You murmur, before letting out another pained little cry.

He sighs. He clenches his fingers tighter.

Then he leaves.

You hear the lock in your apartment door, register the sound of it clicking, just before the door swings open and the stranger from before walks in.

He has a key--he has a key?!

You jump, and the movement makes you wince.

He stares at you.

You stare at him.

He glances down, where you’re currently cradling your wound.

“Um,” you say. And it’s not much, but in the little sound, in the way you look at him, eyes wide, it says much more than you realize in the moment.

You could swear he’s scowling behind the black cowl over his face. His eyes look intense enough.

“Stupid,” he says. “You didn’t clean it right.”

He jerks his chin towards the bathroom and you only hesitate a moment before following him into a repeated routine of disinfecting and awkward silences.

Only this time, you start talking. About yourself. About how you tried to clean it, really, but you’re a bit squeamish. About how your favorite pink shirt is stained now--he glances up at that, how odd--and you’ll have to find a new one.

More silence. More stinging from efficient swipes of a disinfected cloth.

“What’s your name?” You ask.

He pauses entirely. Like he’s been frozen in time, and for the silliest of seconds you think maybe he was and perhaps he travels time like you travel dimensions--and then he sets the cloth down and looks straight at your face. It’s unnerving. You break his gaze before he speaks.

“Feitan,” he says.

And then he waits until the silence has stretched out so long that you look back at him, to find he’s still staring at you.

This time, when he speaks, he tells you your name. And where you were born. And that you travel dimensions.

Ah.

Is it strange that you can only let out a little laugh?

“I like to travel,” you say, letting your lower lip slide through your teeth. You catch him staring at your tooth gem, and somehow that feels nice, despite the absolute shitshow of a situation you’re currently in.

“Not by plane,” he murmurs. You get the sense that it’s his idea of a joke, and you laugh, a short, disbelieving little thing.

When he’s completely finished, you stand up.

“Why did you help me?”

He shrugs, and seems to be genuinely considering the answer.

“Don’t want to deal with your dead body. Too much work. Too many favors to call in.”

You don’t ask to whom he would owe favors, or what kind of work he’d have to do. Instead you let out a sigh and double check your freshly cleaned wound in the mirror, keeping an eye on him in the glass.

“Hey, Feitan?” He doesn’t respond, but locks eyes with you in the mirror. “This is, uh, really bizarre and all but would you maybe want to--”

He leaves without a word, pivoting on the floor like some sort of wind-up doll. You hear the front door shut before you can think to follow him. What a strange man.

Stranger still--he comes back.

Even stranger… you let him.

Maybe it’s because he helped you out, twice. Maybe it’s because you can tell he’s strong--the name rings a bell, vaguely, but you’re not really caught up on the lore for this world and you’ve been a lot more careful with your trips since he revealed he knew all about them.

Maybe it’s something else, that you can’t quite pinpoint.

He tells you that the only reason he’s here is to check on your wound, because you’re too stupid to take care of it. But he doesn’t seem to mind when you begin to talk, or even when you insist on him taking care of you in the living room so you can put on a few of your favorite movies. He doesn’t even seem to mind when your stilted questions turn to you talking more freely, asking if he wants to see your book collection, if there is anything he might compare certain movies or books to in this world.

And if he doesn’t usually answer--and when he does, it’s a few words--you don’t really mind. It’s better than thinking about the reality of the situation; the answers to questions you don’t want to ask, like, “Hey, did you take my favorite tank top from my laundry hamper 3 weeks ago?”

He can’t take you. He can’t make you be with him in the way he wants. He can’t take you, make you, break you--or lock you in a basement.

So what the hell else is he meant to do but go back?

It’s to make sure you don’t die before he comes up with a plan B. That’s all. Of course.

And if you begin to talk freely at him, almost choking the air with words that go from halted and silting to smooth and singsong, telling him about the things you like, how different your world is, how people would have a fit if they knew what was inside your outwardly small and dingy apartment…

Is it his fault if he doesn’t stop you?

No.

Is it his fault that you’re feeding him more than you ought to, really, if you knew what was good for you?

Also no.

You make your own bed with every word, stitching together a tapestry that he finds himself wanting to wrap himself in. To keep warm. And something else. Something he can sense deep down but doesn’t want to put into words, at the risk of it ripping everything already built up right down the seams.

Feitan, you think, is like a cat. Not a nice cat. Not one that curls up in your lap. But one who sits on your windowsill and hisses if you look at him, but who will sit contently if you’re in the same room reading a book. (And who, if pressed, might just claw you. You don’t want to find out just what clawing might entail with him.)

And he does sit contently in your room while you read. Just, you know, not on your windowsill. Instead he perches on the end of a lounge chair in your room, as if the pink upholstery will seep into his clothing if he gets too comfortable. He almost looks a bit funny, sometimes, amidst the ultra-pink frills of your bedroom. But you don’t tell him so--you don’t think he’d like that type of teasing.

On this particular afternoon, he’s sitting, saying nothing much while you’re getting to an incredibly juicy part of this new book--

When he perks up.

“Someone’s coming.” He says it quickly and to the point and you have just one moment where your nerves are on fire, where you manage to say “Huh?”--before you hear the front door of your apartment being forced open by someone.

No, multiple someones.

Feitan is on his feet before you are, and you’re still half-curled on your bed when a group of people burst through the open doorway of your bedroom. Strong people, with weapons and efficiency and ah.

They’re Hunters. They must be here for you. Someone found out what you can do (did Feitan tell? No, you don’t think so) and you’re about to be experimented on or held hostage or something worse. You start forming a plan in your mind, a portal to home, maybe, and you could take Feitan too.

But first, you need to keep an eye on the Hunters.

They appear confused, and you quickly realize why. They’re looking around at the size of your apartment, at the spacious rooms that can’t possibly exist. Someone mutters something about not knowing Feitan had this kind of nen.

“We’re not here for you,” one of them says, a tall man with sunglasses, gesturing at you with his bulky chin. “We’re here for him. Just stay put and you won’t get hurt.”

You hear Feitan snort.

“You’re here for… Feitan?” You ask, slowly, tentatively. “But why? He’s just--”

“You fucking idiot,” a woman in the rear of the group says, nearly spitting out the words. “Don’t you know who he is? Christ, you’re as dumb as this pink bedroom.”

You don’t really have time to process the words. Feitan turns, just a little, and takes a step to stand in between you and the group.

“You,” he says, looking straight at the woman, “are very stupid.”

And… the way he says it has none of the sticky condescension the word held when he reserved that moniker for you.

But you don’t get the luxury of thinking about that. Instead, you get to see Feitan hold up his hand. His nails extend, like claws--no, no. Like knives. Sharp. Deadly.

In a blink, two blinks, three blinks, all of the Hunters are on the ground. There’s red splattered on your walls, against the pink curtains ghosting your window, a splotch of dark red gore on your strawberry-themed lamp.

You sit back down on your bed, hard, fast. There is a bit of blood--whose?--on your clothing. You hope it’s only on your clothing. It’s like the air has been knocked out of you in just a few moments. How did you go from enjoying a book in the admittedly intense company of a stalker who has helped you not-die to sitting in front of a pile of massacred corpses, killed solely by someone’s fingernails?

Feitan sighs, and the sound is like a rope that you cling to; the only thing that makes sense right now.

“Shizuku will come to clean it up,” he says, as if you know what this means. “She owes me.”

Feitan turns, then, to look at you. You wonder what he sees, because you’re not entirely sure of what he might find himself.

“Going to run away?” he asks. His gaze hard and considering.

Slowly, you shake your head. And there, something else you can cling to--the sensation of your curls against your face, framing it. Your hair is there. You are there. You think these things, over and over, trying to tether yourself to the bed and the world.

Feitan’s eyebrows furrow.

“Why not?”

You keep yourself perched on the bed, much like Feitan normally sits. You wonder if there is any blood on your comforter, on your canopy, but you don’t dare look. Is there any on you? You don’t know, but you feel like you can taste it, regardless. It’s a phantom taste.

“You… helped me.” The words are slow and you wonder just how much you mean them.

Feitan snorts, but it’s a half-lived nose. His gaze slides away from you to your room. To the stained wall and curtains and lamp. To the floor which is currently collecting pools of seeping, dead blood.

“If it doesn’t come out… I can get new things.”

And is it your fault if your smile is shaky and nervous and half-formed? Is it your fault if there’s something deep in you that appreciates the sentiment?

Instinctively, without looking for it, your hands reach for your discarded book, the silk bookmark still stuck in the pages.

Feitan walks back until he’s on the lounge chair.

He sits, perched, just as he did before. Watching you. Barely blinking.

You begin to read, while the smell of blood and faint acrid death hovers in the room.

#yandere feitan #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes

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lightfeltmemories · 2 months ago

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18+, minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni, fem black reader in mind. my first post in this format please don't kill me if someone feels ooc.

he knew you were a baddie before your relationship with him, so, he doesn't police you on what you wear, in fact, he loves your outfits, and if anything, buys (or steals) anything you desire to keep you high maintenance, when walking down the street, he loves the thought of other men feeling envious because he managed to pull such a gem, your hand in his, you both walk down the street, the way your ass jiggles with every step in your short shorts, the way your tits bounce in the tight fitting tank top, the way your makeup is always flawless and glowing in the sunlight, the way your hair and nails are always done, the way you always smell good as fuck, he loves every aspect of you, and knew exactly what he was getting into when he pursued you, because at the end of the day, he's the one thrusting his fat cock deep inside you every night, his name is the one escaping your lips as he pounds into you, moaning and screaming for more, he's the one you chose to lay next to after it's all said and done.

jjk: satoru gojo, choso, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, shiu kong, naruto: naruto uzumaki, kisame hoshigaki, hidan, kakashi hatake, might guy, deidara hashirama senju, jiraya demon slayer: kyojuro rengoku, tengen uzui, douma, giyu tomioka, iguro obanai hunter x hunter: leorio paladiknight, uvogin, nobunaga hazama, shalnark ryusei, phinks magub, hisoka morrow, feitan portor one piece: monkey d. luffy, rorona zoro, vinsmoke sanji, usopp, brook, portgas d. ace, eustass kid, donquixote doflamingo,

anyone i didn't add, this can also apply if you want it to but these were the characters that came to mind for me :)

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mitsu-so-muchh · 1 month ago

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PLEASE HELP ME find the Feitan x Reader one shots fic I read 2-3 years ago 😭

The story goes when Feitan isn't yet a troupe member and he's just an ordinary high school student. He's actually a good student while the reader is always in detention.

Fei eats in a small eatery that happens to be owned by the reader's family and that's where they started getting along.

IT GOES SMTH LIKE THAT 😭

#feitan x reader

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years ago

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Can you write Yan Phantom troupe + reader hwr Sleeping Arrangements

I liked your post so much💓

ohhh sure thing, i’m glad you enjoyed the genshin variation!! i think it’d make for an easier read if i refer to HWR reader as her ‘canon’ name (aka what i call her in my head), so i’ll start doing that henceforth for posts like this . do i start an anastasia x reader tag... omg... what a blessed development .

Anastasia (aka HWR Reader)

Due to the physical demands of her work, Anastasia highly prioritizes keeping her body in the best condition. This causes her to go to bed and wake up early. While she has no problem with you sleeping in, she'd prefer you don't stay up too late, since she believes it’d be detrimental to your health. She never knows when she might need to go days without a wink of sleep so she tries to be prepared. You're welcome to scuttle about your shared bedroom if you feel especially fidgety, but the moment your hand grazes the doorknob, she's awake and gently asking if everything's alright. Should you say you want water or whatever, she'll go and get it for you. Anastasia tends to keep to her side of the bed when you do finally lay down — she wants to give you space so that your sleep isn't disturbed. In rare moments of indulgence, she'll let her hand ghost over yours, smiling softly to herself upon reaffirming that you're still here with her.

Chrollo

You'll start weighing the merits of becoming an insomniac when faced with the trials sleeping next to Chrollo entails. It's like a switch inside him flips from annoying to extra annoying come nightfall. The bastard knows your poor amygdala is extra vulnerable to emotional exploits when tired, so right when you tuck yourself in and get cozy, he’ll start asking about your greatest regrets in life or whatever. He won’t leave you alone until you give him a satisfactory answer too. He could make do on next to no sleep just fine, but ever since he’s brought you into his life, he’s felt the urge to lay down at night whenever you do. There’s this intimacy to the simple act that he finds addicting. This paired with the fact your emotional walls are lowered at night makes him quite the happy camper. If you’ve been extra difficult lately, he won’t let you even get close to the bed until you give him a ‘goodnight kiss’. He finds the bastardization of such an innocent gesture delightful. In essence, nighttime when you’re involved becomes his favorite, whereas you view it with existential dread.

Feitan

It’s a bit of a coin toss if you’ll see Feitan any night. When the moon is high in the sky, he likes to get to ‘work’, aka inflicting unspeakable horrors on whatever poor soul he needs something out of. Those nights where the screams extend for hours until their vocal cords are too scratchy to cry out anymore are the worst. If you’ve really been behaving lately, he’ll consider giving you noise-canceling headphones. So long as you ask sweetly. His sleep schedule is pretty erratic due to growing up in an environment where it was necessary to sleep in shifts for survival’s sake, something that’s carried over to his adulthood. Most of the time, you can expect to go to bed alone. While you’re snoozing soundly, he might creep into your room. He’ll run his bloodied knuckles over your cheek and muse to himself how vulnerable a position you’re in before a depraved man like himself. Watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest is an excellent way to come down from the high he receives from inflicting pain on others. For some, it’s bird watching or listening to the rain, for him, it’s staring unblinkingly at his beloved who wants nothing to do with him. Different strokes for different folks.

Machi

Machi isn’t thrilled with the thought of falling asleep around you. In her mind, the likelihood of you pulling something stupid increases tenfold. Despite her harsh outer demeanor, she doesn’t actually derive pleasure from punishing you. Her goal here is to make you like her (though she’d rather die than admit this), so any scenarios counterproductive to that are actively avoided. She’ll tell you point-blank not to try anything if she senses even the slightest shift in your attitude. As for cuddling, she secretly longs for it, but will never act on the desire. You’ll have to be the one to initiate. And even then, her body goes so tense that you worry you’ve done something wrong. She won’t verbally confirm or deny should you voice this question aloud. However, the fact she doesn’t shove you away is all the evidence you need. Her heart, which doesn’t even skip a beat when faced with imminent death, races madly whenever you do this. For your own safety, it’s recommended you don’t point the detail out.

Pakunoda

Pakunoda makes going to sleep an event. She runs you both a bath infused with essential oils, gives you a facial, and shares other elements of her specialized skincare routine. The cocoa butter lotion she insists you put on your legs after your nightly bath smells like the most heavenly concoction. You wear matching satin nightclothes to a bed that she purchased with you specifically in mind. Pakunoda enjoys it when you lay your head against her chest, but when you both start to doze off, she’ll gently move you into a more comfortable position so you don’t get a kink in your neck. It’d be in your best interest to never protest against her insistence on following this routine — there’s no faster route to earning her admonition. She would’ve done anything for this luxury that she’s sharing with you growing up, and if she feels you’re being ungrateful, she won’t hesitate to humble you. Expressing your gratitude is the best way to avoid this, even if said gratitude isn’t genuine. She’ll smile and pat you on the head for the wise choice.

Phinks

The decibel level of this man’s snores... god rest your soul. He’s handsy and all up in your personal space almost every single night. Phinks doesn’t even bother trying to be sly about it too, he just pulls you right up against him the second you lay down. His favorite spot to put his hands is in between your thighs. He will find a way to make this happen no matter the position. If you thought you might luck out by having his grip on you relax when he falls asleep, you’d be dead wrong. A straightjacket would allow for more wiggle room than him. You can choose to sleep whenever, but getting up for the day is another beast entirely. He just adores the sensation of skin-to-skin contact so much that he doesn’t want to give you up until he has to. It might be a good idea to keep some snacks within arm’s reach for this reason.

Shalnark

Shalnark thinks you’re the cutest thing ever when you’re asleep! That’s why he has hundreds of pictures and videos of you dozing off, some dated way before you were even kidnapped. It’s an instant boost to his mood whenever he scrolls through this particular gallery. He insists that you must wear fluffy pajamas if you want to go to bed because he finds it adorable. He tends to stay up way later than you, either using his phone on max brightness or typing away on his laptop. You have zero idea how he always has so much energy when you guess he gets anywhere from three to four hours of sleep a night. It’s a mystery. And yes, if he finds a particularly funny image or video, he will wake you up for the sole purpose of sharing it with you. He has drawn on your face at night a few times too for fun. Normally cringey stuff like ‘if lost, return to Shalnark’ or a couple of hearts. He’s beyond annoying.

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rotten-pomegranate · 8 months ago

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Yandere Trouble trio with hybrid reader

Warnings: smut, kidnapping, yandere, rape

Shalnark

Shalnark what’s a bat because he thinks your the cutest little thing in the world with your big brown eyes and little fangs that you try so cutely to bite him with

When he’s having sex with he lives watching your wings twitch and flop around trying to get him off you to no avail

He loves sneaking up and yanking on your ears randomly to see you jump when you feel the random pain

He gets you one of those pull up bars for the closet if you sleep upside down, half the time you don’t get to use it though because he wants you to sleep with him

If you drink blood he’ll have no problem stealing blood bags from the hospital for you

Feitan

Feitan wants a cat because they are quiet and for the most part obedient

Even when you have little outburst of throwing a vase or some plates on the floor he likes it because he gets to have his fun putting you back in your place

If you scratch stuff in his house your gonna get pinned down and declawed he only gives you one warning

Don’t worry he does understand you need to scratch so he’ll get you a post for it

He makes you sleep on the floor with no blankets or pillows when your bad other times he lets you sleep in the bed with him

Phinks

Phinks wants a cat because your cute and small and for the most part you listen to what he says

Your the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life, with you little tail and your big round eyes

And your small he love that your small it makes it so easy for him to move around

If he ignores you for a little bit and you start curling up in his lap begging for attention he’ll lose his mind

He gets some mad cuteness aggression when your going about your basic human activity, your changing a light bulb and your standing on the counter because your to short? He’s dying of cuteness

He has you sleep with him every night because of how you curl up under his arm nice and toasty from his body heat

He won’t do anything sexual if you don’t start it, but if you do he’ll be so happy, he just lives watching you ride him with all your little tummy rolls and your cute little tail hitting his legs when you go back down

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kiame-sama · 3 years ago

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Could you please write a story of your A/B/O AU with the Troupe and them having a pack Omega, like the one the Zoldyck family has. I'd prefer if the Troupe met the Omega "naturally" instead of buying them though; for example, they were hiding their status and were at a heist of the Troupe but the stress revealed it and the Troupe decided to keep them. That's just an example through feel free to do any "natural" (for the Troupe) meeting. No cruelty towards the Omega please, though implied/background is ok due to the nature of your AU's society.

Silk Omega - (Yandere!Phantom Troupe x Omega!Reader)

Hope this is 'natural' enough of a way to meet their omega and gain their trust.

Warnings: abo au, only about 1000 omegas exist world wide, affectionate behavior towards omega, yandere, yandere behavior, polyamorous relationship, murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of binds, liberation, cuddles.

~~~~~~~~

A phantom scent carried on the wind and towards the group in pursuit of the caravan. Supposedly countless valuable goods were being transported in this caravan and the troupe planed on taking everything they could get their hands on. Ideally, everything in the caravan would come into the hands of the Phantom Troupe and the caravan wouldn't make it to a final destination. All was going well and the Troupe was currently going over the current plan of striking when the caravan stopped for the evening, a snow storm beginning to settle in the clouds above.

While the Troupe had been tailing the caravan, a specific scent continued to occasionally appear on the wind from the caravan. A scent none of the Troupe members were familiar with was very faint but indeed present among the traveling goods and that made everyone curious. As far as they were aware, the only things being transfered in the caravan were precious stones and metals. Nothing should be present that has such a unique and distinct scent.

"Shalnark, Nobunaga, Franklin, Uvogin, and I will deal with the brunt of the guards and keep them focused on us. Feitan, Phinks, Shizuku, and Bonolenov will prioritize moving the goods to the secure location. Kortopi will keep watch for reinforcements. Pakunoda, Machi, I want you two to go in first and prioritize finding the source of that scent. Once identified, contact me and we will continue with the plan from there depending on what you two find."

The spiders agreed to their roles and waited patiently for the caravan to stop for the evening. As the group eventually stopped and set up camp, the Troupe observed the different guard postings around the goods. Nightfall came quickly meaning the two spiders would go in first to find the mysterious scent that came from somewhere within the caravan.

It was almost too easy for the intruders to slide past the guards and avoid detection, starting with the nearest cart and working their way through in pursuit of the scent. One cart in particular was different from the others, sealed tightly on all sides minus a single access point at the back. A surprisingly high-grade lock was installed into the metallic door, but it was not high-grade enough to keep Machi from picking the lock.

The two silently decided to have Pakunoda stand guard and Machi enter the sealed container. If the scent was coming from inside the container, they should minimize the amount of time the access port is open in case the increased scent gives their position away. Machi was also faster than Pakunoda at silently incapacitating threats, both believing there to be an endangered animal being smuggled into the destination, hence the scent blocking walls of the container. The pink haired female was quick to enter and close the access hatch behind her, eyes widening when she turned around to look at the contents of the sealed cart.

Laying within a cage further in was a soft looking human woman wrapped in silk clothing, blindfold secured over her eyes and hands bound to prevent her from removing the blindfold. The cage was lined with soft blankets and pillows, though it was clear the woman inside was more than likely a kidnapping victim instead of a willing participant. Machi was at first confused by the sight before everything seemed to click into place with the sudden realization of just what this female was.

The scent, the secrecy, the cage, the guards, it all made sense. The woman inside the cage wasn't just any woman, she was an Omega. No doubt the container being built specifically to retain heat and scent in order to transport stolen or kidnapped omegas in a relatively controlled environment. Machi didn't want to wait to free the captive omega, the distressed scent coming from the unconscious woman making her want to act, but Chrollo was the boss. Chrollo would make a decision on what they should do with the priceless treasure they happened to stumble across.

With a quick motion she pressed redial on her burner phone, finding even the few seconds of ringing to be too long before a click indicated the lead spider answered.

"Boss, we found the source of the scent within a scent blocking transfer cart. You aren't going to believe what is inside. An omega. A live, unmated, unmarked omega. The gems and metals are a distraction from the real prize. She doesn't look injured other than some bruising around her neck and an injection site where a sedative was likely administered. She was clearly drugged and caged, but she seems healthy otherwise."

A moment of silence hung in the air before Chrollo spoke, his usual calm tone having an almost excited edge to it.

"Protect her while we deal with the guards. From there, we can decide what should be done with her."

Machi didn't need to be told twice, settling down by the omega and checking over more thoroughly to ensure she was uninjured. The thick walls of the container muted most sounds from the outside, though the chaos didn't need to be heard to be felt. There would be no one to contest against the troupe and once the loose ends were out of the way, the cart was opened enough to let the scent out, but keep the heat in.

The other spiders stood anxiously outside, Chrollo likely having told them just what Machi had come across within the sealed container. The scent from the omega clearly impacted the whole troupe as they glanced at the container with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

"So, that's what an omega smells like, huh?"

"What should we do with her?"

"Maybe we should sell her?"

"Why sell when we can just keep her?"

"Do you know how much people would pay for an omega like her?"

Chrollo signaled for silence and the side chatter stopped immediately, all eyes on their leader. It was clear the troupe was keen to hear what Chrollo had to say on the matter, uncertain how to move forward with such a find.

"As I see it, there are two possible choices we can make regarding this omega. We can sell her, as the caravan likely intended to, or we keep her. Keeping her means she will belong to the troupe. She will be shared among the troupe members and those in the troupe have rights to mate her and mark her. I will remain neutral unless a tie breaker is needed. Who among us want to keep her?"

There was no need for Chrollo to break a tie as the entire group was in clear agreement in what they wanted to do. Every member of the Troupe wanted to keep and share the omega. Not a single member deviated from the group vote and Chrollo felt vaguely smug, having already known what the Troupe would pick. It wasn't every day an omega was up for grabs like this and they were not fools, they knew when the opportunity of a lifetime presented itself.

The entire caravan worth of gems and precious metals were easily transfered to the abandoned location the Troupe chose to gather in. Moving the omega was done with far more care than the gems were, Uvogin and Franklin breaking open the cage so the omega inside could be extracted. The blankets and pillows were moved with the omega to try and allow the rare being some comfort from them and to keep them warm. After being released and removed from the cage, all binds and blindfold were also removed to allow the omega the freedom to move upon waking.

It took longer than expected for the omega to wake, everyone in the Troupe refusing to sleep until their omega safely awoke. Thankfully they did not have to wait too long into their vigil before a soft whine came from their quarry, the gentle figure slowly coming to consciousness. At first, she seemed confused and out of place, but as she continued to shake off sleep, her awareness returned to her as well. The panicked way she sat up and gazed around herself almost angered the troupe, wanting their omega to not be afraid or stressed in such a way.

"Good to see you have woken up," Chrollo said calmly, closing his book and slowly approaching the startled omega as to not frighten her, "you have been out for some time now."

"Wh-where-?"

"Shh, it's alright. My... associates and I happened to stumble across the caravan transporting you. We were less than pleased with your treatment so we removed you from their custody. What's your name?"

"It... It's (y/n)... I don't- I don't have anything to repay you..."

"(Y/n), you don't need to repay us. You are an omega and they likely wanted to sell you because of it. I would recommend you stay close to us, however, as you are somewhere new and probably disoriented by the ordeal."

Chrollo's words seemed to soothe the anxious omega immensely and the frightened scent turned to a much more relaxed one. It was then the soft omega began to shiver, the howling blizzard outside and the cold air inside likely being the cause of their Omega's discomfort.

"Are you warm enough?"

"Just- just a little cold, please don't worry. I'll be okay."

"You don't need to bear your discomfort. I speak for the entire group when I say that we want you to be comfortable and happy."

"... I'm more than a little cold... If... If you don't mind, can someone warm sit with me?"

Some of the troupe felt surprise at how gentle and agreeable the omega was being despite having been plucked off of the streets by strangers. Clearly she saw them more as saviors due to them freeing her from the caravan, trusting them more as a result. No doubt acting on instinctual desire to stay where they are most protected and cared for, looking to the Troupe for that protection and affection.

Uvogin was the clear choice as he is a furnace of a man and let out a good level of heat, his alpha scent likely going to be a comfort as well. Despite the jealous looks he received from a few of the others, he strode over to the omega and settled down, allowing the cautious and shaken omega to choose where she would like to be. She cuddled into Uvogin's side, pulling a blanket up around herself and practically latching on to the warm man for any and all heat he could provide. Her shivers died down quickly as Uvogin's heat warmed her cold figure considerably.

Chrollo would approach the topic of (y/n) becoming a shared mate among the troupe, but for now, they simply wished to keep her happy and comfortable. She would need better clothes than the thin silk robe she wore and would likely need food soon as they didn't know how long she had been unconscious. The troupe would retrieve the desired amenities without question, all of them dedicated to their Omega's comfort.

This silk wrapped omega will need not suffer anymore, not if the troupe could help it.

#yandere #x reader #kiame-sama #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere abo #abo au #tw abo #tw implied kidnapping #tw implied murder #tw imprisonment #tw polyamorous relationship #yandere phantom troupe #yandere x omega reader

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years ago

Text

Fascination

wasn’t sure if i was going to upload this one but uhhh fuck it

Feitan x reader x Chrollo (or at least the beginnings of it)

Warnings: torture, mentions of torture, implied violence, mentions of death, threats of violence, possessive behavior

It wasn't terribly unusual to hear more than one pair of footsteps coming down the stairs. However, it was strange to hear them coming at such a calm, steady pace.

Usually it was Feitan dragging down another unfortunate victim of his to be tortured, and that would be accompanied by their panicked yells for help as they attempted to escape their captor's grip. That never worked, as Feitan was much, much stronger than he looked. Something that you knew very well from experience.

The sounds of Feitan bringing down his soon-to-be torture subjects signaled you to prepare yourself in your spot next to the wall, your wrists in cuffs and your hands pulled up by chains that lifted you so high you needed to balance on your toes. If you didn't do that, you'd be forced to hang by your arms, something that was incredibly painful to do for long periods of time as it would eventually feel like your arms were going to pop out of their sockets. But it was impossible to get any sleep while trying to focus on keeping your weight on your toes, so the only times you could get any rest was when you couldn't keep going and you were granted a bit of a reprieve as your body attempted to catch up on much needed sleep that would only last for a few minutes before the pain in your arms would force you back awake. The only real break you got was when Feitan would unchain you and allow you to go to the bathroom, making you walk up the stairs on your own so your muscles wouldn't atrophy.

Chaining you up in this manner had happened after the initial punishment for your transgression, and so far there was no end in sight with this treatment.

If he intended on letting you out of this hellhole, you promised yourself you would never talk back to him ever again. But at this point in time you couldn't say if you might even get the chance to play the part of the submissive pet he seemed to be looking for, because it seemed just as likely that he would kill you just for the hell of it.

There were voices that accompanied the steps, speaking at a seemingly normal volume but incomprehensible to you due to the door of the room being closed. You were able to tell that one was Feitan's voice; you had no clue who the other belonged to, though it sounded to be another man.

When they stopped just outside the door it was still impossible to tell what they were saying, though you were able to now catch a few words here and there. It seemed to be an incredibly casual conversation. Whoever this person was, it didn't seem like they were just another torture victim.

That was somehow scarier than it being another unwilling participant like yourself.

For Feitan to have brought this person down here, it meant they must have been comfortable with Feitan's “work”. Someone who was just as sick in the head as the man who had kidnapped you and made your life a living hell, who probably didn't care about all of the people Feitan had murdered and would have no sympathy for your situation.

That only made the anxiety in your chest swell further. Was he throwing you away? Possibly to someone who would treat you worse than he did?

Did they even intend on keeping you alive?

The door opened and you turned your gaze to the floor, uncertain of what you might see but wise enough to know not to feign sleep whenever Feitan came into this room. Doing that at this point would only add more time to your punishment.

Two people entered, and from your peripheral vision you could see two sets of black shoes walking across the floor. One moved faster than the other and you could recognize that one as belonging to Feitan, having become all to familiar with the sound of how he walks in the torture room he has set up in this basement. The other walked in just slightly slower, following Feitan in but pausing only a few steps in.

“Is this the woman who was hiding the key?”

A voice you didn't recognize spoke, and you cautiously glanced up to see Feitan with a man you had never seen before.

Raven-haired like Feitan, in a long black coat with white fur along the edges and sporting an unusual-looking cross tattoo on his forehead, this man was looking you over with one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. He was remarkably calm as he took in your exceptionally miserable state, which only confirmed that this man didn't care at all about your well-being. There seemed to be something of a mild fascination in his gaze.

Feitan glanced over at you for a moment before focusing back on a table at the side of the room, continuing to walk towards it while he answered with a quick “no.”

Your gaze went back to the floor when Feitan looked at you; the few times he had let you outside before, he'd gotten mad whenever he felt you were looking at another person for too long. Maybe his guest would be an exception, but you didn't want to risk that.

You hadn't expected Feitan to say anything more than he had, but as he reached the table, he added “that's a personal project.”

The man hummed a bit at Feitan's words, but turned his attention away from you as Feitan picked up something that had been laying on the table.

Maybe if you had been like you were at the start of all of this, you would have been insulted that Feitan had referred to you as a project. But right now, the man's reaction and Feitan's response gave you a little bit of solace: the man clearly wasn't here for you, and for Feitan to have used those words, it meant that he hadn't given up on you yet. That was what you told yourself, at least.

You looked back up when Feitan walked towards the man as he said “she hid the final key by swallowing it. Covered it in wax beforehand so it would go down easier.”

You gulped as you realized who Feitan was talking about. You had been there for that, hanging in the exact same spot as you were now when Feitan had brought that woman from earlier down here, and you desperately tried to keep those memories at bay, not wanting to think about how he had managed to get that key out when he realized the woman had hidden it in her stomach.

The man wasn't at all disturbed by that information, only giving the barest hints of a smirk as he accepted the key (that Feitan had made you clean once he had retrieved it) and thanked the torturer for his hard work.

It seemed like this particular transaction had ended; the man placed the key in his coat pocket and turned as though he was about to leave the room. He was saying something about a next job, but you weren't really listening, your mind almost shutting down as you anticipated the two of them leaving you by yourself again. It seemed like this was going to be the high point of your day: Feitan came in and didn't do anything bad to you, and for the first time in ages you actually got to see someone other than him. What a treat, you thought dryly.

You weren't looking at either of them anymore, but you did catch when the man stopped speaking.

Then-

“I am rather curious, Feitan. Would you mind if I took a closer look?”

…. Was he talking about you?

Your gaze darted up just in time to catch Feitan giving a short nod of his head, and then the man began to walk towards you. Gray eyes were on you once again and that small hint of a smirk was back on his face as he approached. This wasn't what you had been expecting, and you looked to Feitan in the hopes that you could at least get some hint as to what you were supposed to do in this situation. Feitan just gave you a narrowed glare when your eyes met, as if warning you not to do anything stupid.

The man now standing in front of you brought you back to attention, and he smiled at you as you looked at him.

“Hello, I'm Chrollo.”

After a moment of silence, he tilted his head at you as though he expected you to introduce yourself. But the words were caught up in your throat. When the hell had you spoken to anyone besides Feitan?

“Tell him your name; you're not that stupid,” Feitan said from behind Chrollo.

That snapped you out of it, and you hurriedly responded by telling him your name.

“Sorry, I- sorry,” you stuttered. Feitan didn't like excuses, maybe Chrollo was the same. Best to just apologize for the awkwardness of your introduction and not linger on it.

Chrollo chuckled a bit.

“How long have you been down here?” he asked.

“... A while,” you answered, hoping that your tone conveyed the fact that you truly didn't know exactly how long Feitan had left you like this and not that you were being vague just to be spiteful.

“Why?”

“I was rude to him.”

Feitan scoffed at your answer but didn't actually say anything to that. It wasn't like what you had said was inaccurate.

“I'm assuming you must have said something to him, correct?”

You nodded.

“What did you say?”

There was a lump in your throat again. When Feitan had first started this punishment, he told you that if you ever said something like that again he'd keep you down here twice as long. And now Chrollo wanted you to repeat what you had said in front of him? Was this some kind of trap Feitan had set up? Was he just looking to cause you more pain and distress? But why would he bother finding an excuse to extend this punishment when he was perfectly capable of just keeping you down here for as long as he liked?

“Chrollo asked you a question.”

Feitan practically growled the words out at you; if you didn't answer now you'd be facing harsh consequences.

“I told him to go fuck himself.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but they both heard you. Chrollo's eyebrows raised slightly while Feitan's eye twitched at the memory. Somehow that day you had managed to hit some breaking point and went off on him, saying aloud that thing that had been in your head at times but you would never dare say aloud. Why you had said such a stupid thing to him or what had pushed you to that point you couldn't recall, but you sincerely regretted it. Feitan had made sure of that for every day you were stuck down here.

And now you'd been made to say it again, possibly reigniting his anger.

You hung your head low as you awaited something to happen. Feitan was mad again, you were certain, and while Chrollo had been rather polite to you considering the circumstances, you worried that facade might break and perhaps he may also do something to you.

“I'm amazed this one is still breathing after speaking to you like that, Feitan,” Chrollo said.

You still hadn't looked up from the floor, but you could almost sense how Feitan merely shrugged in response.

“What makes you still want to keep her after that?” Chrollo asked him.

Feitan then mumbled something in his native language, and you tensed. You were accustomed to things becoming exceptionally violent when he spoke in his native tongue.

Chrollo chuckled, and after there was a hand on your jaw that lifted your head back up. Those gray eyes met yours once again, and Chrollo observed you for a few moments, taking in the way you had begun to shake once more because of the position you were being held in, and the way your eyes had already begun to tear up upon hearing Feitan speaking in his language that you associated with danger.

“I wouldn't want to interfere with your personal business, Feitan, but would you mind terribly if I let her down?”

…. Huh?

The question seemed to be a surprise even to Feitan, who looked at Chrollo curiously.

“I don't mind,” he answered slowly, “just a bit unexpected.”

“I can understand how it would be,” Chrollo said, humming a bit to himself before he continued, “I suppose she reminds me a bit of a wounded animal; you just can't help but feel sorry looking at it.”

…. So Feitan saw you as a project, while Chrollo saw you as an animal. You weren't sure which was the better thing to be, and your role in this world only seemed to get worse as time went on.

Chrollo brought up his other hand to brush the hair out of your face, and you thought to yourself that he didn't seem to feel sorry for you. Just thoroughly entertained.

“You do know her better than I, but she looks to be remorseful. I think she's learned her lesson.”

Feitan didn't say anything. You were expecting him to tell Chrollo 'no' and that you needed to stay down here for longer.

So when Feitan pulled the key to your cuffs out of his pocket and tossed it to Chrollo, the shock of that action was almost overwhelming.

Chrollo managed to persuade Feitan to let you off the hook?

With two twists of the key, the cuffs opened and you nearly fell to the floor as your arms dropped immediately and you didn't have enough time to properly stand on your feet. But Chrollo caught you, and for a few moments he held you, his arms wrapped around your midsection, supporting you as he had that slight smile on his face again.

There was relief upon being released, but also a wave of panic. With how Chrollo held you, you couldn't see Feitan's reaction to any of this. There had been a time once, during one of the very few outings Feitan had allowed you, where a man had greeted you as you were walking by with Feitan. Maybe Feitan had just been in a particularly bad mood that day, or maybe there was something about the man that had just set him off, but only seconds later Feitan had sliced the man's head off. That random stranger had died for the crime of saying hello to you, and Chrollo was going as far as to touch you. To hold you against himself, even. If what he was doing right now was upsetting to Feitan, your captor wouldn't be able to take his anger out on Chrollo, and in that case, his only option would be to take it out on you.

What was going to happen to you once Chrollo left?

Eventually Chrollo set you down on the cold floor, told you that it was lovely to meet you, and then stood before he began to leave the room. As he walked off, you finally looked to Feitan, scared of what you might see when you made eye contact with your captor.

Yet he was also walking off, making his way to the door but not before he glanced over to you briefly.

“Stay there,” he ordered.

You nodded, but you weren't sure if he even saw that as he was looking back to Chrollo, the two of them discussing something that must have been related to that key from earlier. They were gone without any more acknowledgment to you, and before the steel door closed behind Feitan, you caught a particular look in his eye as he looked up towards Chrollo, something you had never seen before.

So that's what it looks like when Feitan respects someone.

You'd managed to fall asleep while leaning against the wall, so you had no clue how long it took Feitan to come back down. But despite how exhausted you were, when you heard the sounds of him coming back down the stairs you instinctively woke up. You stayed where you were, looking at the door as you waited for him, still uncertain as to what would happen to you after all of that. The best you could hope for would be that he would just chain you up again.

It was incredibly sad that was the best case scenario in your mind.

The door creaked open, and you sat up straighter when you caught sight of Feitan standing at the entryway. On seeing the way he entered the room and how he looked at you, you were inclined to feel a bit hopeful; he didn't seem angry. That was a good sign, though you reminded yourself that could change quite easily. Still, it was something that Feitan hadn't immediately gone into a blind rage after all of what happened with Chrollo.

Feitan still seemed calm as he stood before you, hands in his pockets as he looked down at you. The cogs in his mind were clearly turning as he looked you over, clearly considering something regarding you. Even though the silence made you nervous you kept your mouth shut. Right now, you would only be allowed to speak when he had made it clear that you were allowed to do so.

“You managed not to embarrass me too much in front of the boss,” he finally told you.

It didn't seem like he wanted you to respond to that so you kept quiet.

“Should I let you out of here early?” he then asked mockingly.

Not a good idea to just flat-out say 'yes'.

“If you think I'm ready to come out,” you began quietly, “then I would like to.”

You answered his question while also making it clear that you understood he still had complete control over you. And that didn't seem to displease him, based on the way he didn't really react to your answer. He only visibly reacted to any answer that upset him, while answers you gave that either pleased him or that he had no real feelings on would earn you an unreadable stare.

But even then the chances of him keeping you down here were high.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes.”

Your answer that time probably came out too quick, but you were too caught up in feeling like you needed to be direct with this answer.

Feitan hummed to himself.

“I'll let you out for now,” he eventually said, “but I might stick you back down here tomorrow.”

He then stepped out of your way, motioning to the door with his head as he continued “go upstairs and get a shower. After that you can eat.”

You waited a few moments before you slowly pulled yourself up, every bit of you tense as you anticipated this being some sort of cruel joke, that he'd lash out at you for seriously believing that he had been serious about that. But as you made it closer and closer to that door, nothing came. He even snapped at you to hurry up a bit and you did so, despite the way your muscles ached when you moved a bit too fast. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, you heard him shut the door to that room behind him, and then heard him as he began to ascend as well.

Chrollo had not only managed to take you down from where you had been hanging, but he had also managed to convince Feitan to let you out early? It was amazing that Feitan was willing to listen to another person like that, but it only served to make Chrollo even more terrifying. You remembered the look of respect Feitan had on his face when he and Chrollo left you, and you shuddered to think of what kind of person he must be to have gained the respect of someone like Feitan.

Though it felt amazing to take a shower, you decided not to take too long with it. Wasn't worth it to risk angering Feitan again. If he didn't throw you back downstairs come tomorrow morning, you knew that for the next few weeks you'd still be tiptoeing around him for fear of accidentally pushing his buttons and making him snap again.

After dressing in the clean set of nightclothes that had been left for you in the bathroom, Feitan was waiting for you in the kitchen when you came out. He sat across from your spot at the table and pointed to a bit of fruit he had left in front of it. Nothing too much, but that made sense since it'd been a while since you had an actual meal. Anything more than that would probably come right back out. Keeping that in mind, you made a point to eat slowly, occasionally looking up to Feitan who had yet to say anything.

“What do you think of Chrollo?” he suddenly asked.

Oh God.... This was the first time he had ever asked for your opinion of another man, and since this was one Feitan seemed to like, you weren't sure how to answer him.

You swallowed a bite of your food before you answered “from what I saw he seems nice?”

That probably shouldn't have come out as a question.

Feitan let out a short laugh at that.

“Nice, huh?” he continued, repeating your answer in a mocking tone.

Guess I was wrong there, you thought to yourself.

“Do you prefer him over me?”

…. Now that was a dangerous question, and if you didn't answer quickly it would be bad for you. But given how important Chrollo clearly was to Feitan, it couldn't just be 'no'.

“Why would I?” you asked in return.

“Because he's nice.”

Clearly you had fucked up a bit by using that word, but the situation didn't seem entirely unsalvageable.

“I only just met him today; I've been with you for longer,” you said, “how could I like him better?”

There was silence for a while, interrupted only by the sounds of you finishing up your sparse meal. Had you still managed to mess up in this line of questioning? Probably. Only after you gave that last answer did it occur to you that Feitan might interpret from it that you could like Chrollo better if you spent more time with him. You wouldn't put it past him to jump to conclusions like that. It'd probably be back downstairs for you. You just hoped he would leave you where he'd left off and not redo the things that he'd done to you the day he had started that punishment.

When you glanced back up to Feitan again, you could see those cogs turning once more, considering something involving you in his mind. You looked down to your lap, telling yourself it was best not to try figuring out how his mind worked. You'd go insane if you did that.

“Chrollo likes you,” Feitan finally said.

“.... Is that good?” you asked.

“What do you think?” he snapped back at you.

“.... I'm guessing 'yes'?”

“Mm.”

It had been made clear from the very beginning that he considered you to be his and only his. To have this new situation where there was a third party who seemed to be interested in you was entirely unexpected, and you truly didn't know what to make of Feitan even being okay with such a thing.

“Do you want to see him again?” he then asked.

The immediate answer you wanted to give was 'not really', but you doubted that would go over well.

“If that's what you want,” you answered, still trying to be diplomatic.

Feitan slammed his hand down onto the table and you flinched.

“Answer yes or no,” he ordered.

“Y-yes.”

You didn't really think about beyond just wanting to keep Feitan from getting angrier, and so you stuttered out that reply.

But once again, as soon as you finished speaking you were questioning if the answer you had given was the one he wanted to hear.

The silence returned. Feitan wasn't one to talk too much, but after something like that, you would've thought he would have had something to say. Nervously, you glanced back up.

He didn't seem upset. He actually seemed somewhat pleased, and when your eyes met, you could see the way he smirked despite the bandanna that covered his mouth.

“Chrollo will be happy to hear that.”

He didn't allow you to say anything to that as Feitan then ordered you to go to the bedroom and get some sleep. You had now returned to that person you had been before you had snapped and told him off, just wordlessly nodding and doing as he had told you. Whatever that had been that day, where you had forgotten enough of your fear to say what you did, that was only a one-time thing that you had paid dearly for.

If it were to happen again, you doubted you would live long.

And if it happened with Chrollo, your short existence after would no doubt be a very painful one.

Chrollo.... You were going to have to deal with him now, too. It was difficult living with Feitan on his own, but now you were going to need to do that while also navigating what you could and couldn't do with his leader.

Your legs carried you to the bed, and the second your head hit the soft mattress, you were out, your body no doubt desperate for some proper sleep after how long you had gone without it.

And the way you had passed out on the bed was a small mercy, in it's own way, as you were allowed to go to sleep without needing to think about that conversation with Feitan, and what exactly you had signed yourself up for.

#reader insert #feitan x reader #yandere feitan #chrollo x reader #hxh feitan #feitan portor #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere x reader #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #chrollo

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