#The phantom troupe yandere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hhighkey · 8 months ago

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An Ode to... // Feitan, one shot - part of hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: Stockholm syndrome, implied past kidnapping and stalking, emotional and physical violence, isolation, torture, feitan dense when it comes to feelings, jealousy, possessive behavior, rough sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, female reader, etc Note: wc just over 9k, updated for grammar, ao3 link: xxx

Feitan followed you for a year before kidnapping you. You'd caught his eye by surprise one day- technically Phinks pointed you out to him- but your fate was decided then and there. So he'd yearn for you during nights he struggled to sleep, which turned into a battle within him raging of emotions unlike any he'd felt day in and out. It was like his chest and heart swelled so much around you or at the thought of you- he was so full with a warm giddiness that he thought he'd burst. For some days he wondered if killing you would make his life easier, until he realized one night that the thought of you dying hurt even more than any injury.

For eight months you'd been his.

And time didn't seem to matter anymore as you spent it in a small attic turned bedroom with a small bathroom. A tiny round window, with metal bars, was your only door to the outside world. You'd watched the seasons change from summer to fall, and now to winter. A dusting of white snow had fallen on the ground and furthermore a cold draft had you shaking under a mountain of thin blankets.

The first month you never left the attic, Feitan wouldn't let you. You didn't see him either, just opening the door to place food inside then immediately locking it again. Screaming and crying until your voice was hoarse and you had no more tears to cry. Days on end curled into a ball as you stared devoid at a plank wall. The ceilings were low, meeting at a point in the center, thankful you were short to be able to move around easier. For a while you refused to be broken, trying to do small things to keep up fitness, but slowly the lack of signs of rescue froze everything. Like your mind and body shut down so matter how you yearned for your prior life. Slipping into your own world you began in your head, an alternate reality with your loved ones that did its best to comfort you.

But each day you awoke in that same room in the same bed. Chilling how Feitan took your own pillows and blankets, to provide you some comfort or familiarity. Your favorite outfits in the drawers across the room, the cloth baby doll you slept with every night- it made you realize just how long your captor had been watching.

Month two you realized things in the room were moved ever so lightly in the morning. At first you chalked it up to your poor mental state, that you had simply forgotten. Until you woke up one night, around 2AM to a pair of dark eyes watching you. Feitan. He was the one who pulled the chair to your bedside. He was the reason you woke up feeling vulnerable and gross. After you caught him, he didn't bother to hide anymore.

He started watching you do the most mundane tasks, primarily eating, worried you'd choke. Started asking you the food you preferred and when you scarfed it as fast as possible, he grasped your jaw and helped you chew. That was the first time he'd touched you and your eyes lit up in shock from the chills that went down your spine. He didn't come around much after that, as you started getting too bold. You'd yell and scream at him, try throwing whatever you got your hands on. He left you isolated for weeks.

Maybe it was your pathetic nature of wanting to please everyone, not being able to stand up for yourself that really drew Feitan in. Because never once did you try to escape— Especially not when the way Feitan walked around the house had your eyes glued to him with stars dizzying within them.

By month four he let out downstairs, let you sit in the kitchen as he cooked. Let you watch a movie as long as you sit on the couch with your hips just touching his. And you did it, because watching the reruns of that boring soap opera was the best thing to happen to you in far too long. It kept you from attempting to escape- asides from the fact there was no way out of the dingy attic, especially when Feitan left for weeks on end.

The basement was cold.

Your feet felt like they'd freeze off the first time he brought you down there. You realized, rather quickly, that you never wanted to be there again.

And it was in that basement that you understood who Feitan truly was, what he did for work and why he constantly disappeared. And why you needn't disobey.

Even when he opened the door to the basement for the first time and motioned, you followed. Because five months in you'd listen due to fear.

But your disobedience shown in the way your body froze when you reached the bottom of the stairs- whimpers escaping your lips as you tried to go back up. Feitan had just stood there, pushing you further.

"Sit," He said, pointing to an armchair set up towards the workstation, "want you see me work."

"W-work?" You swallowed hard. With hindsight you shouldn't have been surprised that someone as cold as Feitan, your kidnapper, was a murderer. A torturer who relished in pain, as not one did your depressed state bother him.

A man- beaten bloody was strapped to a table cranked forward so his head hung. He was in a loose shirt and shorts, ankles and wrists chained to the steel surface.

"No.." The tears began to fall thickly, "please let me go upstairs-"

"No." Feitan watched you, "Sit. Waiting too long. Want you to watch. Been five months."

So you had been with him for five months, a part of you felt it'd been years already. "I can't," You whimpered, "please," your stomach was churning, bile rising in your throat as an intense heat dizzied your body.

Feitan grabbed your wrist as if you were a doll, dragging you over and into the chair, "Stay." it was a threat. You could only nod as snot began to run down your nose and sweat beaded at your brow. Breathing became hard, the air dense and the smell of blood was sickening.

The man's screams.

Your ears ring trying to drown the screeches out.

You couldn't stop your blubbering no matter how many glares Feitan sent your way. Your shoulders shaking and stomach in knots as you were continuously forced to swallow your own vomit to not make a mess, or ensue Feitan's wrath. Because you'd dealt with his cold shoulder or an occasional sprained limb from how strong he was. Used to his harsh words and threats, and invading eyes watching your every move when not locked in the attic. But you didn't want to be on that table, no matter what.

The man was inconsolable as Feitan grabbed a pair of pliers, snapping them over and over as he crept closer. A heavy whirl of silence, of anticipation- the calm before the storm really before Feitan used the pliers to grasp the captive's fingernail. One after another. Scream after scream. Blood. A sickening ripping noise before tossing them to a palette.

Oh the man was a mess. Voice hoarse with tears and saliva dripping down the side of his face as he begged for an end. Begged to die compared to the start for a reprise.

"Please- just kill me "

Feitan's head cocked, eyes darkening, "talk."

"No."

Feitan doesn't like hearing no, you know that. You've felt his silent anger when you'd cry and shriek- because you weren't doing what he wanted. And in that basement watching a man's blood splatter about, you realized you were all out of his good graces he was willing to give. Like his self awareness that you needed time to adjust finally reached its end. Because a wild thump came down with the force of a thousand suns, and three fingers toppled to the ground with crimson red spurting like a wild rose.

"Who moved merchandise?" Feitan hissed as he grasped another gruesome looking tool with his thin fingers.

"Go to hell,"

Rage. A sharp crack sounded as a molar went flying with a clatter across the room. It enraged him, all the defiance this captive had, for your first showcase of his work. So maybe he was embarrassed as he seethed from his pores, muscles tensed as an iron poker bent from his sheer will. He could hear your cries. Pathetic.

As he turned to you- you were cowering in the chair, with your head in your hands. Rocking back and forth as you blubbered about.

You weren't watching.

The man wasn't cracking and Feitan's patience expired. With limbs now missing and blood soaking the floor surrounding them, he knew the man had been serious about dying rather than spilling information.

So his focus was on you.

With horror your head snapped up as a nasty crunching noise forced vomit up your dried throat, the man's neck snapping in half, head falling limp with a bouncy recoil.

"Oh," you whimpered, you shrunk back as humanly possible. Coated in red, with anger, Feitan stalked his way to you.

You stumbled from the chair, your flight kicking in for the first time since he'd brought you here. Crawling and kicking until your back hit the wall and the tears stream heavier than before, like you were smack dab in a horror movie. His grim eyes preying on you like you were nothing but a snack, a glimmering blade at his side that has you quaking. Terror as he stood over you.

"Not watching." He hissed.

"I'm sorry! N-ext time!" You cried, holding your hands up in a meek defense, "I'll be better,"

Feitan was high on adrenaline. Enraged by the lack of pleasure his torture session brought. Frustrated by your reaction. How scared you were of him when all he was trying to do was include you in his work, something he loved. Something he wanted you to watch with pride.

You shriek as he grabs hold of your legs, yanking you toward him. Preying on you like a monster as he crouched down to put weight on you, knife in hand. Such a sadistic look in his eyes as he ripped your shirt up enough to show him your rib cage. Legs flailing. Arms weakly hitting at him. But he didn't move. Feitan brought the tip of the knife down to your skin and you went limp with shock. No noise left your mouth after a few seconds until a throaty, airy cry sounded out with spasming of your eyes following. Blood trickled down your stomach as Feitan carved letter after letter against your pained jerks. Begging. Sobbing. You were a mess underneath him as your vision began to falter as terror and agony washed over you making you numb.

"Next time, tie you on chair to watch." Feitan said with a smirk, possessively tracing the bloody gash that spelled out his name on your delicate skin. All you could do was cry and wheeze in and out of consciousness.

And as you finally went limp, a heavy breath shuddered from Feitan's lips as the reality set in. He grimaced. It was pure adrenaline and anger that he acted on, and the aftermath was a sickening regret bubbling in his chest. Hurting you wasn't something he wanted to do again.. unless absolutely necessary.

The following months you grew familiar with the schedule of when Feitan brought his victims and wanted you to watch.

Perhaps you were too sensitive. Too much of an empath as each incision he made into a captive, you felt the carving of his name burn on your skin. Like a searing branding of understanding their pain, to an extent, that they went through. An understanding of being a victim like them, but you were luckier in a sick sense because you had Feitan's mercy of love. If you could call it that no matter how many times he insisted he took you for protection because you were his.

Life with Feitan could be like living with a bomb, never knowing when or why it set off. Somedays you didn't look at him enough, others you stared too long and when his cheeks turned pink and he grew vicious. Learning his habits or moods was hard, but slowly you became accustomed.

Feitan liked to touch your waist, specifically shoving his hands under your shirt to feel your skin. His fingers would grip and prod even if you flinched from a sudden pinch. His greatest show of care was patting your head. He started doing so after you convinced him to let you take over meals, reminding him you always cooked for yourself prior. In another life basically. Then out of the blue Feitan took your things from the attic and into his room. You'd panicked looking for your missing plushies you needed to sleep, your missing pillow and favorite blanket. The dresser and closet were empty. Your toiletries were gone. Oh. Your heart sank, Feitan had enough of you. You were going to die.

So you went back downstairs, ready for him to take you down to the basement and tie you up. You let your mind wander to what methods or tools he'd use. Maybe he'd be kind and make it quick.

Feitan quirked a brow up as he saw your dejected form pad into the living room. You sat with a glazed, far away look on your face and immediately he panics.

"Y/N?" To hear your name from his lips, made yours tremble.

"I'm sorry."

He was upon you within seconds, grasping at your arms to pull up your sleeves, "What's wrong? Hurt?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

A look of disgust flashed over his features, "No, never. You're mine."

"But my room?"

"Oh." Feitan's eyes immediately flit anywhere other than you, dropping your arms to rest on the couch. He was embarrassed and you're trying to figure out what's going on. "Moved into my room, figured you liked me more, things have been... nice."

Did you? Like him? Not particularly, right? Sure you liked the sound of his voice or when his eyes softened when you walked into the room. You thought the faces he made were cute asides from the maliciously crazy ones when he tortured somebody. And you were beginning to like feeling his touches, unsure advances that showed he was human in there somewhere. Because he wanted your approval, that much was apparent after all these months. Wanted you to watch him with pride and reassure he was touching you correctly, caring for you correctly. And perhaps you were flattered realizing how enthralled he was, how much he knew about you down to the most minor details. While you only knew he was a killer. So maybe you did like him in a twisted way, your brain fogging past details of cruelty and pushing up warm emotions instead. For your own good you needed to forget he forced you to watch others die, that he cut your own skin, that he might have killed your family. You bargained with yourself that perhaps him locking you in the attic was for your own good, that you needed to see Feitan in a better light and you only needed some time. Right?

"Oh!" Your relief is evident. And he looked happy to see that. "Oh my." You place your hand over your heart, breathing in and out.

Feitan slowly rested a hand on top of your head, "Should have told you sooner... sorry."

"S'okay, misunderstanding. I'm good."

Feitan nodded simply because he could feel your pulse begin to slow from its prior heightened pace, "Come."

You followed behind him like a lost puppy needing its owner to find its way. Your heart felt at the bottom of your stomach, nervous to what Feitan had in mind moving you to his bedroom. The realization hit that you'd be in bed with him as you entered. His room was bare, which didn't surprise you. The only hint of life were your colorful blankets and plushies set up on the large bed. Two dressers, loveseat, and two doors you assumed were a bathroom and closet. Secretly you felt relief as it didn't smell of blood and there wasn't any sign of death.

Feitan watched you as you took your time to look around the room. He said nothing as you opened drawers to find your things, while some had his. The closet had more of your clothes. The ensuite was clean as well. He liked seeing you nod an approval of the space you'd share with him, filled him with pride.

You sat on the bed.

You felt along your blankets and then his own he originally had. You rearranged your stuffed doll. Fluffed your pillow. Not having changed out of the clothes you slept in last night, you decided not to change because you weren't sure what Feitan was expecting of you. Embarrassment licked the edges of your neck as you felt your palms begin to sweat.

Terror coursed through your veins, your heart about to beat through your chest as you laid beside him. A few inches of space between the two of you. But it was suffocating as he joined you under the blanket.

"Relax. Won't hurt you."

You gripped the sheets tighter, "Okay."

"Don't believe me."

"I'm sorry." You immediately countered, tensing.

Feitan sighed, trying to remember advice Chrollo gave him: to be more understanding and soft, "Sorry for cutting you few months ago, wanted you to see what I enjoy and you seemed not to care. But I enjoy you more so, only come to basement if you want now. Free reign over inside when I'm gone, just no hurting yourself. No going outside unless I'm with you."

Huh? "I- can go out?"

"With me."

"Can we go out tomorrow? Will it rain? Can I run around on the grass?" You were like a child in a candy store, excitement dripping through your tone that has Feitan's lips turning up in the dark.

"If it rains tomorrow, go another time. Okay?"

"Yes. Perfect!" You were absolutely giddy, to the point personal space did not matter. You flung yourself across the bed to hug Feitan. Feeling his cold body you go still, filled you with horror realizing what you just did. "I'm sorry- I.."

Yet he wrapped an arm around you, ghosting along your skin like he was scared to scare you. He waited to see if you'd flinch away but you didn't.

"Don't apologize, like this." He hugged you taut.

There was nowhere to go but on him, really. You rested your head on his shoulder, forced to sprawl a leg across his own while your other wrenched beneath you. It felt like you may explode, a litany of conflicting emotions pulling you every which way. Hesitantly you placed your left hand across his chest, waiting for him to decide to hurt you or that this was taking it too far. But that never came. Feitan may have laid there like a statue, though after a few minutes he started squirming, attempting to relax with you in his arms while you listened to his wild heart beat.

You swallowed hard deciding to speak up, "I can move-"

"No." His words sounded laced with venom, but you could tell the slight difference. Feitan was nervous. Just like you were.

Your lips parted but no words came out. The fact you were both enduring the same confusing emotions, unsure how to physically figure the other out, made you feel so close to him. He was on your level, just as scared.

"Fei..tan?" You whispered his name, realization blossomed inside you and it was as if the last eight, maybe nine months were finally making sense!

"Yes?" It sounded, at least to you, like he was choking up.

"I- think I realize something. I think we're both awkward people and you didn't know how to go about any of this. Please hear me out." Boldly you pushed yourself out of his grip, pushing up on his chest so you could prop on your knees under the blanket. Feitan followed suit by sitting up to lean against the bed, quickly pulling the bedside lamp's string. He stared at you expectantly. So you continued with his full attention and the sudden coolness of losing his touch, "I think we feel the same way, not sure how to act around the other. I- don't get mad at me saying but you're very rough around the edges and I don't think anyone ever explained you shouldn't kidnap someone you love, or hurt them. But feeling your nerves, I'm realizing we're the same. I never know how to act around you, I thought you hated me or something but you're nervous too."

Your tongue felt numb as you spilled as many words as possible. Unsure if you made sense. Unable to look at Feitan as you spoke.

He was quiet until a hand touched your cheek, "You- feel for me how I feel for you?"

You nod.

Feitan brought your chin up so your gazes could connect. There was no maliciousness, only nerves. His lips aren't in their normal frown, instead they're slightly parted. He pulled you closer, hating that you chose to sit inches too far for his taste, having been in his arms prior.

You let out a whine as Feitan leaned in, his breath fanning along your lips. Your body was begging for him to close the gap, your stomach a fluttering mess of butterflies working its way through your ribcage. Blood pounded in your ears,

"Feitan?"

"Quiet." Fingers shake as you bring them to run through his black locks, causing a shiver to go down his spine and the smallest of noises to come from his throat. You found something he enjoyed and your heart felt content as you massaged along his scalp as his lips lay centimeters from yours.

The kiss was hesitant. Barely a peck as the touch of your lips had you both upright, shocked, staring at the other. Like a deer in headlights you waited for him to get upset, to kill you even. But he only captured your lips again, for a deeper kiss as your lips meshed together. His tongue pushed in, exploring your mouth greedily as he squeezed your waist. You made a noise as he flipped you underneath him, slamming his mouth back against yours as he pressed himself into you.

When you two parted, gasping for air, uncertain as you each explored each other's bodies, a gentle smile pulled at the corners of your lips. Feitan licked along your jaw, licked down your neck occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin. You whimpered and he pulled away as if you'd stabbed him.

"Liked.. that?" When you nodded his eyes glossed over. You liked it as he sucked and bit at your neck. What other pain could he inflict to bring you pleasure? You really were made for him, he told himself.

You reach up to try to take one of his hands into yours, he obliged, put his weight on his other forearm, "So.. I.." Embarrassment hit you and you suddenly felt ridiculous for what you were about to ask.

"What."

"Are we..?"

"Don't understand."

Your face went red, you looked away still feeling his breath across your face, "Never mind."

"Go to sleep, you're thinking too hard." Feitan huffed as he rolled off you, "Taking you outside tomorrow, you need rest."

"Okay."

To your surprise he hugged you from behind, nestling up to you, letting you slot into him as if it were the perfect fit. You could tell this was new, not something he did from how tense his body was. Sleep finally began to overtake your senses. A blossoming happiness in your chest as he traced a finger along your skin whilst holding your waist.

You fell asleep with a smile. Fell asleep with your back to his chest, him spooning you as if this was suddenly normal. As if you were an ordinary couple. You found comfort in his quiet breaths and knowing he'd watch over you. That night you dreamed of the day you met Feitan, and it changed, no longer was it filled with blood and cries, but a joy as if it were love at first sight. You two hand in hand walking off to a new life.

That morning you awoke with not a care in the world. You thought waking up to an empty bed would hurt, but nothing would diminish the smile smacked onto your lips. From an amazing dream to remembering your first kiss with Feitan, nothing could have taken that away. Giddy, you dressed in your most comfortable outfit and skipped out to face the rest of your day with excitement, feeling lighter than ever. The normal weight and anxiety you woke up with, was gone, replaced with a sense of purpose.

A list formed in your head of what you wanted to do. 1. Check the weather and if Feitan doesn't have to work, 2. Make breakfast, 3. Go outside.

The morning sun was strong amidst the blue, cloudless sky as you stared out the kitchen window. You grinned before grabbing ingredients you'd need for breakfast, hoping Feitan would be joining, but regardless you'd cook for him. You worked with a hop in your step, movements nonchalant as you continued to glance at the mid-morning sky. Too focused to feel a presence hidden, watching, until-

"You look... happy."

You squeaked, jumping at the sudden voice. You felt his dark aura first before you turned to see him, standing in the doorway, "Good morning. Hungry?"

Feitan nodded, inching over to the table. Your smile ignites a pain in his chest that he didn't understand. As he looked over you, all he could think about was his lips on yours and the addiction of it that stained his blood. How you'd snuggled into him. How in your sleep you'd begged him not to leave you. Feitan doesn't think he likes the churning in his stomach or the nerves coursing through him as he looks at you- it scares him. You had the power to turn him into this.

"Made scrambled eggs and toast, that okay?" You set a plate in front of him, creases at the corner of your eyes as you do so.

"Yes." He watched as you got him something to drink, then sat down with your own food. On the tip of his tongue are questions about last night, but Feitan felt ridiculous asking if you liked kissing him, or if he could do it again.

"Is it okay? Made it kind of quick, it's a nice day out." You smiled warmly at him, expectantly.

"Yes, good. We'll go outside when you're done."

He remembered and was following through, it meant the world to you. So you finish eating to clean up, which he surprised you by doing himself.

You were like an excited puppy standing by the front door bouncing on the balls of your feet.

"Stay in my sight. Can't run anywhere without me finding."

"I know I know. Can I run around the yard at least?"

"Sure." His threat went right over your head. It hits him that you don't need a threat to stay put. You weren't planning anything.

It didn't take long to undo the litany of locks on the door, it didn't matter if you knew where any keys were kept. Nen was the key factor to them.

He had to urge you out, that it really was okay to be outside, "Go out, I'll be sitting right here." He said rubbing the low of your back.

After a few grueling seconds you comply, a small giggle as you hurry off the porch. There was pure glee on your face, in your body and voice as your feet touched the grass. Squealing you carefully move around, skipping one way then the other.

You were a curious thing to Feitan, who found nothing interesting in the nature that surrounded the house. But you, running around in circles until you collapsed out of breath, loved it. You looked serene, stunning, just taking the breath away from Feitan as he watched you. You were perfect.

It hurt. It hurt. Feitan's convinced he was dying. Heaviness weighing on his chest and shoulders as he watched you. He didn't know how to be what you need. For the first time since kidnapping you he questions his judgment seeing how happy you were being outside, something he'd stolen from you. He wondered if he could give you the love you deserved when he'd never experienced it himself. While he hated himself. While he hated what was inside his darkened mind compared to the light that was you. So ethereal and kind, unlike him whose hands would forever be tainted.

Unbeknownst to you, Feitan retreated within himself while you basked in the summer sun.

Five weeks ago Feitan kissed you. He'd taken you outside and it'd been one of the best days of your life. You were certain it was the turning point in the relationship but- it wasn't. Things weren't worse by any means, but he treated your touch like the plague.

It felt like a continuous stab to the heart, every minute of the day at this point. You felt stupid. After a week of attempting physical contact in bed or on the couch, you gave up not wanting to further embarrass yourself. And slowly the conversation died out. He stopped eating meals at the table. Staying as far away as possible in bed, you began moving your pillows back up to the attic, which caused him to intervene. Making it clear you weren't permitted to do that, he locked the door to the attic shortly after.

He left two weeks ago for an important job. You only knew he was okay because Phinks stopped by to check on you and bring food. It took everything in you not to ask Phinks for advice, you'd only met him in passing and Feitan was... absurdly possessive. Even his closest 'friend' couldn't get within a foot of you without facing Feitan's wrath.

So you spent the days alone re-reading a book because you can't quite pay attention to it. You spend too long staring out the window by the front door, yearning pathetically from the couch. Knowing there were cameras kept you from crying for a strange reason you couldn't pinpoint, perhaps wanting to seem strong if he checked in.

You think it's Friday, 16 days since Feitan left. Time blended together, especially when he wasn't there to mark the calendar.

Frustration bubbled in your chest as you threw your towel into the corner of the bathroom. Your wet hair seeps into your nightgown, purple hues taking over the blue sky. You want to throw your shampoo, then your body wash you think. For a second you felt the appeal of thrashing your fist into the sink mirror. How good that would feel, you'd have control over something.

Breathe in. Out.

You count in your head, staring at your reflection with disgust. This would show him, right? You thought about him finding you all bloody, the panic that would consume him, and hopefully guilt too.

Tears prick your eyes, you huff moving back. Your reflection blurred. Annoyance grew, controlled her until-

SLAM. The sound of the front door closed suddenly, announcing that Feitan was back- and in the manner the door slammed, told you he wasn't alone.

You scamper out of the bathroom, practically forgetting your prior plans, needing to catch a glimpse of Feitan.

In his arms, he carried an unconscious woman bound and gagged.

Your stomach plummeted.

He glanced your way once before disappearing down to the basement.

Lips trembling, you stumbled forward, acting against better judgment. The air leading down to Feitan's torture room was dense and metallic scented. Rotted and death-like. You hated it down there, you felt bile rise up into your throat but you pushed through the fear that begged you to turn back.

You stood hidden behind the doorway, peaking in just so you could see Feitan had already finished tying her down in the chair. You weren't sure if he felt your presence as if he did he made no effort to greet you. Did he not miss you? Your fists clench as you rake across the battered woman, taking her in. She was beautiful. Fuck. The only relief you felt was that she sat in that chair- meaning she wasn't here to replace you. Feitan hadn't put you in that chair ever.

You stepped through the doorway as Feitan picked up a knife from a table.

Feitan's head snapped in your direction. His body language went taut, surprised, so he hadn't noticed you. He'd been too wrapped up in the woman who passed you in beauty in every way possible. Did he notice that as he looked at you now? Self conscious thoughts attack your mind as you drop your head.

"You're- you want to watch?" His voice was filled with hope, not that you noticed. You heard it as disgust by having you in the room.

You nod, drop into your chair beside the door, one you hadn't sat in, in five weeks.

For the first time he didn't need to remind you to watch his every action.

Your eyes couldn't be pried from his hands. He wondered if you were even blinking. What happened for this change? Feitan wracked his brain as he cut into the woman. He didn't notice what he was doing, hardly listening to her cries and shit information spilling from her lips. Did something happen to you? Phinks said you were fine. Feitan's thoughts flick to his recent closed-off behavior, knowing it had to be upsetting you. Shit. That was it, right? He moved on to more cuts, more stabs to bleed his prisoner dry. She was saying things he already knew, he told Chrollo this woman would be useless, so this was a waste. Why were you choosing to watch this? He wanted to look at you but also needed to finish work, for once torturing another being was boring him. He wanted to get back to you, needed to talk to you, apologize even.

SLAM.

You were reeling- unable to contain yourself as you stormed from the room. One second your eyes were flickering from floor to the captive's body following Feitan's every movement, to watching the walls of the basement fly by as you raced towards a bathroom.

Disgust curdled inside you. Anger wrenched at your limbs. You fumed as you remembered how he touched that woman's body as if torturing her was a sensual dance. It made you sick to see how his fingers would flit along parts of her skin that you dreamed he'd touch on yourself. He hadn't looked at you! You gagged over the toilet, head pounding as your body attempted to heave bile from your stomach. Dizzied with jealousy and hurt, you want to cry. Maybe attempt to slap Feitan if he'd let you. You think of your idea with the mirror, that could work.

Feitan stood outside the door, as soon as you opened it, you walked face first into his chest. Out of reflex you shoved him back, wide eyed at him.

"What's wrong? Throw up?" There was concern written all over him. Actual legitimate emotion, softness in his face as he inched closer.

"Dry heaved." You said, unable to hold back the snark in your tone.

"Okay?"

You glared, confidence surging within you as all you could see was green. Feitan took a step back, surprised. "Seriously?" You huffed, "Just go back to your work."

As you turn to leave him standing dumbfounded in the hall to head upstairs, his hand wrapped around your bicep. You're pulled back with force that makes you lose your breath. Your back's forced against the stone wall, Feitan caging you between his arms. "What is wrong with you?"

You swallow, the lump in your throat refusing to go. You felt instant shame with yourself but yet- didn't he deserve your anger? Was he really that dense with your emotions? Squaring yourself, you wouldn't back down, "I'm fine. Just.. go back to her."

Oh! "Funny girl." Feitan cackled. A shallow, chill inducing laugh escaped his lips.

Incredulously you shook your head, "Why are you laughing?"

He pushed himself off the wall and away from you. Still fucking laughing.

You balled your fists and walked over to him, fuming. "Stop it!" He let you hit his chest with your fists, let you throw your little temper tantrum as amusement danced in his dark eyes.

It was when tears began to fall did he finally compose himself. Feitan wiped the stray tears and wouldn't let you look away from him, hand possessively holding your jaw. "Jealous." He smirked. "My silly girl jealous over my work. Work, Y/N."

"I-It's not that- not the same. You've.. You've never brought a girl back here before." Oh god if only you could curl up under a blanket and hide, shame crossing your face, "It's not funny."

"How is it not? You're jealous over someone who will die."

"You're touching her." You spat, "You don't touch me, barely. Not after.. I thought." Taking a deep breath you collected yourself before beginning, "Since you moved me into your room, since we kissed and fell asleep together, you act like it never happened and ignore me for weeks. So yes I'm jealous of her, you're touching her so gently and in places I want you to touch me."

Your confession threw Feitan off his axis, processing your words at a million miles an hour yet it was like he stared at you brain dead. He really fucked this up. "I'm not being gentle. I'm torturing her." He did not understand how you thought he was being intimate with a prisoner, it killed him to stay away from you.

"But you brush along her so gently before making cuts, I thought I was going to die!" And he'd skipped past the part where you brought up the kiss and how he'd held you. Of course, "I'm going to go take a nap."

He let you go, watching your dejected form march up the wooden stairs. His brows furrowed over what the fuck just happened. He'd let you storm off and speak to him in a way he'd never imagine you would.

Feitan clenched his fists. He wanted to follow after you but there was one final thing he needed to take care of.

Red cascaded down the front of the woman as he slit her throat. Her tears and pleading only fueling the fire started within him. He stripped himself of his gear, leaving him blood free to chase after you.

You don't move from where you lay under the covers in his bed, but Feitan knew you weren't asleep. He pads to the bed, carefully sitting on the edge next to you.

"Y/N."

You don't respond.

He sighed, "She's dead." You visibly tensed.

You begrudgingly sit up knowing you've been caught, looking at him with reddened eyes. "Oh."

Feitan tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear, "Since our kiss, I don't know how to act around you."

His omission makes you frown, "I don't understand."

"When you said you felt for me how I felt for you.. made me happy. You kissed me back, wanted me to hold you. I didn't expect it, thought you'd regret it later so I ran."

"I thought you regretted it."

"Never."

"I feel.. dumb." You said.

"Little foolish. But, I like that. Your jealousy is cute." He smirked, "But no reason to be anymore, okay?" You nod, scooting closer to him. Feitan tucks an arm around you, cradling the side of your head, "Was happy you came down to watch but, guess I know why now."

"Maybe I can.. slowly come down for little bits? I- don't like it but, you like it when I watch you work." You're burning, nauseas, because the last thing you wanted was to listen to screams, to bones breaking, to the noises that'd keep you up at night. But it would be for Feitan.

"I would like that." He nodded with sick excitement behind his eyes.

Silence. Softened smiles. Fluttering heart beats as a thick tension develops between you two. He was staring at your lips, your neck, and you couldn't tear yourself away from him. Closer, you silently lean in as your breathing turns heavy. You were sure he could hear your hammering heart beat as if it'd burst from your chest.

The gap closed. Your lips meet in a dance of uncertainty as self consciousness absorbs your minds until it bursts from need. Feitan was cold, certain as he pressed his lips hard to yours over and over, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. On fire as you gasp from the pain, metallic blood enters your mouth as Feitan's tongue pushes its way in. He explored you as his fingers dig into your side, your tongue dancing along his as electricity runs through your veins. You think your whole body is trembling, or maybe it was his as the kiss turned desperate, teeth gnashing, tongues shoved down the other's throat as saliva mixed; once light kisses turned to an all out way for the two of you to claim the other.

Feitan helped your legs wrap around his waist before he flipped you underneath him hovering over you on the bed. His whimpers against your mouth were the greatest thing you think you'll ever hear. And his need to control you, to possess you as his made your head go cloudy with want as his mouth worked against yours. He was consuming you as his confidence grew. That pit in his stomach growing with the certainty of your feelings, the change of the tide after nine months, that he felt. You wanted him. You understood everything he'd done had been to show you his feelings. So now he'd claim you like he should have weeks ago, rather than worry about the kiss.

Atop you, he watched with dark glee how you panted, mewled for him as he pulled away to watch you. You clambered for him as you were out of breath, saliva dripping from the side of your lips. In a swift motion he lifted your torso and pulled your shirt from your body, and as he pushed you back he leaned down entranced by your bare skin. He bit into your collarbone, licked along the mark that broke skin. You'd gasped in surprise, fingers twisting into his top, tears glistening in your eyes.

He continued to mark you, your cries music to him as he broke more of your skin with his teeth. Blood trickling only to be licked up by Feitan. You'd be littered with hickeys in the morning and the thought of you all bruised up made his cock twitch. Feitan slowly nibbled along one of your hardened nipples, studying how your body reacted. You were a desperate little thing he learned quickly as he sucked on your nipples, groping and molding your breasts with his strong fingers. Already quaking- how pathetic.

Feitan began to wonder if you'd done this before, because in the year he'd watched you, you never brought someone home or went to another's. But a possessive streak hits him and he doesn't want to know, because no one else would ever have you from here on out. He was going to make your cunt into the shape of his cock, make it so you'd never want or need anyone else.

"Fei," You whined, and the usage of a nickname made his head snap up to meet your lidded eyes. Your hips bucked against his as he straddled you and the discomfort of his hardened cock in his slacks began to gnaw at his brain.

As his fingers begin to toy with your waist band, he lets himself wonder if this was a dream. He'd have been as patient as you needed him to be. So to think everything he dreamed about for almost 2 years was coming to fruition? He stripped himself of his top and slacks, leaving only his underwear.

Fear clamped in the back of your mind as if you needed to escape. But as the cool air met your exposed entrance as Feitan tossed your boxers away, you relinquished yourself to him. He admired you from his knees as he pushed your thighs apart.

"Tell me what you want." A mischievous glint shone in his eyes and you shivered.

"Y-you Feitan." You squirmed under his heavy gaze, desperately wanting to cover up. He inspected every inch of you, but he always came back to the scar on your rib cage that held his name. His property.

Feitan shuddered hearing how lustfully you spoke his name, he liked this sudden change in dynamic. Liked how you begged for him so easily as he stroked so close but not quite at your most sensitive areas. Your pussy glistened, liquid coating your folds and slowly dripping to the sheets.

You could only see his dark eyes as your world spun on its axis. You feel him between your legs, tongue leisurely licking along your aching clit. Taking his time he listened to your whimpers, to your gasps as he changed the pace. You're grasping the sheets, knuckles white as your entrance fluttered in want. He latched onto your clit, and you cried as he suckled and teeth brushed along your sensitive bundle of nerves. Working you up to a climax, he presses his palms into your legs to keep them open. You're shaking. You're desperately trying to escape an onslaught your poor brain and body had never experienced before. It wasn't longer before you cried out, visiting turning black then white as you came, hips jerking and your lips babbling nonsense. Feitan continued to lick helping you come down, pride beaming from his chest. Internally thanking Phinks for all the times over the years he pushed him into sharing someone's bed, that he needed practice, all for you even if he didn't know it yet.

You moaned, furiously blinking before his tongue dances along your folds, licking and sucking at your cum like it's the best meal he'd ever taste. Tongue prodding at your entrance, his gaze flicks up to see you watch him in awe and pleasure, as he licks along your walls. Your clit is puffy as he worked his way back up, a finger delicately toying at your entrance as you gasp. More?

Feitan hummed against your clit, liquid pleasure pulsing within him but all he could do was grind against the mattress, he wanted to see you come apart some more. You babble something incoherent as he brings a finger up and covers it in your arousal, gently sucking still. His middle finger sunk in with ease, your back arching as he fills you. He adds another. He smiled so cruelly as your heat welcomed them so greedily.

"Tight cunt." Feitan groaned, "So wet. Taste so good." He hummed against your clit and the vibrations made you whimper.

You're moaning for him like he was your life line. Sucking him in and begging for more and you were starting to wonder which way was up or down. His tongue oscillating in mesmerizing circles along your clit, his fingers curling along your gummy walls that beg him for more. You were on the edge. You felt pleasure building you up so deliciously, "Fei, more, more, feel good."

For a second he froze as one of your hands tangle in his hair, but seeing you blissed out in his bed- he made you nearly sob as added a third finger stretching you apart as he cruelly sucked your clit until your moans are cries, gasping and loud, as if you were in pain. But instead, once more, ecstasy blossomed in your abdomen right as you thought you'd burst, and tears fell fast. You came on his tongue and fingers, squirt dribbling, your cunt fluttering around him as his motions slowed.

"Pretty." He cooed as he watched your writhing body with curiosity.

A confused cry left you as his touch disappeared, but you watched as he stripped himself of his underwear, finally leaving him bare.

"Gonna fuck you. All mine."

You whimper as he settles between your legs, his thick cockhead prodding at your slick entrance.

"Be good and take me." Feitan grunted as he began to push in.

"F-Fei- Virgin- I-I'm a-" You cried as you thrashed on the sheets, feeling as if Feitan was splitting you in two as he sheathed himself inside you.

An onslaught of butterflies swarmed in his stomach and could have come on the spot from your words alone. A virgin? He knew you were meant to be his, and him yours.

"There you go, tight cunt for me to fill." He pressed his lips to yours, knots in his core tightened as he thrusted deeper, hips to the hilt as he was finally claiming you, filling you.

He watched your eyes go wide, eyes spasming from the intrusion. Your gummy walls squeezing his cock so good as she attempted to accommodate his size. Feitan swallowed hard, trying to stifle his own noises, desperately wanting to be so far in you that you'd never think of anything else.

Blood trickled from your cunt and onto the sheets and it stirred Feitan's hips into a bruising pace as he felt the warmth of your virgin blood surrounding his cock. Liked knowing what he did to you, watching his outline in your stomach as he pushed down, a slimy grin forming on his lips.

He wanted to break you. But he felt himself losing composure as he pounded into your tight cunt. The two of you consumed with warmth and fire spreading along your nerves as together, you chased an intense high consummating some sick love.

"Mine." You were losing your mind as Feitan grunted those words, "Mine." He snapped his hips and you gasped from the intrusion of his cock against your womb, "Tell me who you belong to."

Your pretty eyes were hazy, rolling back into your head as your poor fucked out brain couldn't comprehend. His cock felt so perfect inside your pussy that coated him in your cream from the bliss you felt.

"You!" You cry out, "Fei- Feitan. You! I'm yours." You sobbed, only his name on your tongue and on your mind.

Feitan relished in the sight of his cock fucking into you, disappearing into your depth, his hips flushed with your own. And each time he pulled out, the sight of your bloodied cum on his length made him shudder. He gathered your discharge on his thumb and used it to coat your clit, relentlessly rubbing over it. His hips started to move again, desperately forcing himself deeper as he played with your bud. Your cunt spasming around him again as you attempted to escape his onslaught of overstimulation.

"T-Too much- can't Fei-"

"Never push me away," He threatened, leaning down to nip at your ear, "Will punish you."

You whimpered but the way your cunt opened up for him told him all he needed to know-- the pain, the helplessness, he was turning you on. Straightening again he continued to fuck into you, swiping over your clit, far past the point of pleasing you, rough thrusts hitting your g-spot over and over. You let out an honest to god cry as your third orgasm hit, words thick and hard to understand but Feitan understood how you begged and pleaded for him.

Feitan gripped your hips harder so he could drive into you at a relentless pace, throwing his head back, looking up to the ceiling as he gave you all he had. You pulsed around him all swollen and tight and he knew he wouldn't last much longer,

"Gonna fill you up. Take my cum in your pussy. Mine. My pussy- you're mine." Feitan was past the point of keeping quiet as his possessiveness slammed into him full force. The thought of his cum painting your insides and leaking out...

Falling forward he crushed his mouth onto yours, giving several long thrusts before his vision whited out as he came. Cock twitching as he filled you to the brim, hips stuttering all the way against you, hot, thick ropes of cum coating you. Claiming you. Becoming one with you.

His pace slowed but his lips never left yours, the two of you panting into each other as you came down. Feitan pulled away, resting his forehead to yours, your eyes meeting. Vulnerability. Like truly seeing each other for the first time. He stroked your cheekbones carefully, trying to sense any fear. But nothing. Your eyes shone with a million stars as you shuddered, staring at him, hips twitching as he pulled out. Leaving you emptier than you'd ever been.

Feitan pulled away, dropping back to his knees, carefully stroking along where he'd carved his name into your skin, stroking down your waist then to your thighs. His touch cold, addictive as he thumbed along your leaking folds, his cum beginning to drip down. "Mine."

"Yours."

He stared at you before his cheeks tinted pink, "I'm yours too. Only yours. Don't care about stupid woman I tortured, just my job. You're my.. life. Won't give you space again, won't run if I get scared, this was all my fault, I didn't want to bring you pain. I'll make it up to you."

Your eyes widen with love filling them, a stupidly happy grin washing over you from the gravity of his words, "I love you."

Feitan froze like he was in head on collision, by your proclamation. Love. Did he deserve that? No. He didn't deserve your love but he couldn't deny the happiness he felt in his chest and how his pulse skyrocketed, "Love you as well."

Feitan laid at your side, stroking along your body as sleep eventually overcame you. You seemed so innocent, so small lying in his arms like that. Watching you sleep was a favorite pastime, but knowing you slumbered with his cum buried in you was enough to entrance him back into your gravity.

Your passed out form hardly reacted to his touches, soft moans as he slid his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt. Little twitches as he sucked on your nipples. And you stayed asleep as he slipped his re-hardened cock back inside of your abused cunt, full heartedly welcoming him in.

The bed creaked and thumped against the wall as he let loose, let his grunt and sobs loudly leave him as he fucked you full once more. This was heaven. Pure bliss. Not even torturing made him feel this way, so high, so invincible. Feitan indulged in you until he was a whiny overstimulated mess, heaving atop you and leaving even more marks. He fucked you until he couldn't cum anymore, dumping two more loads into your pussy that became swollen and tight, a perfect fit for his cock.

It was then that he could finally sleep, curled up next to your limp body holding you flush. He pet your hair possessively as you subconsciously cuddled into him further, blood pounding in his ears. The fact you'd been jealous made his chest soar. You hated someone for having his attention because you wanted it. You loved him for him. And it was then that he could finally drift off to sleep, content knowing you were filled with him. His.

#feitan x reader #feitan portor #feitan x you #feitan hxh #feitan smut #yandere feitan #phantom troupe #hxh fanfic #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hxh smut #phantom troupe smut #phinks #chrollo #uvogin #feitan porter x reader #feitan headcanons #hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe

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emotionalmessss · 3 months ago

Note

hope you’re well ♥️ may i request a headcanon where yan!chrollo’s partner escaped but when he confronts them (or however you write it-it’s up to you!) they are really remorseful like “i knew i shouldn’t have left” on their own volition? thank you! ♥️

A/N: ouu, I really like this idea. I can never say no to Yan!Chrollo lol. I’d be more than happy to answer, and I’ll try my best! Thank you for the request, enjoy! :) (this ended up much longer than I expected)

Warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy/forced relationship, stalking, implied kidnapping, kinda implied non-con, psychological abuse, hardcore manipulation. chrollo is a dick.

Chrollo is no saint, but he definitely has the patience of one–though only to a certain extent. With you, however, he seems to have all the fucking patience in the world. Because of Chrollo’s emotionally complex nature, I kind of feel like it’s difficult for him to form emotional attachments, especially with those outside the Troupe. Connections have never really been a priority for Chrollo, nor do they come easily to him. But, with you, it’s different. You’ve always stood out, and his relationship with you is something that he treasures deeply. In his own twisted way.

Ever since Chrollo first laid eyes on you, he’s been utterly fascinated–a reaction that probably confused him at first, considering his interests usually only involve the wellbeing of the Troupe, books, and stealing valuable objects and Nen abilities. Chrollo has utilized all his available resources to gather as much information about you as possible, spending countless hours studying every single aspect of your life. Say goodbye to your privacy because there’s no such thing when it comes to Chrollo. And sure, a few members of the Troupe probably found Chrollo’s behavior unusual, but they knew better than to question the boss.

Chrollo might be completely infatuated with you, but he’s not blind to how difficult the situation is for you–he is well aware of human nature, and even more familiar with you. In fact, he completely understands your struggles. But, does that mean he’s going to let you go? Fuck no. As far as captors go, Chrollo has been incredibly lenient with you, hoping that you’d eventually realize that there is no one else in the world that could cherish you the way he does. And when you escaped from him, you betrayed that sliver of trust he gave you.

Your escape was successful, congrats. Managing to slip past Chrollo’s defenses was a challenge in itself–and you should be proud–not everyone can outsmart the head of the Spider. But, that’s just the beginning, don’t celebrate just yet. Surely, you’ll have to deal with a fuck load of complications, like starting your life over from scratch, fending for yourself, constantly watching your back, and maybe, just maybe, going as far as adopting a completely new identity. Things couldn’t get any more complicated, could they? Oh, they can and they will.

It wouldn’t be long before you started to doubt and question everything–your thoughts, your feelings, your emotions, your choices, and most importantly, Chrollo. You might’ve thought you had the upper hand, but somehow, for some fucking reason, Chrollo always has the last laugh. Chrollo would never allow himself to show it, but he would definitely feel slightly irritated with the situation and your behavior. You actually had the audacity to run away from him? Have you forgotten who he is and what he's capable of? It’s not very often that someone would defy him, and part of him secretly applauds your pathetic–yet somewhat amusing–actions. Did you truly believe that he wouldn’t be able to find you again?

I’d imagine that Chrollo probably saw your sudden absence as nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Annoying? Yes. Unexpected? No. Would he have expected you to be remorseful after escaping? Not entirely. Fortunately for him–and unfortunately for you–Chrollo knows you very fucking well. So well, in fact, that he’s become really good at predicting not only your next moves, but also what goes on in your head. He knew it wouldn’t take long for your mind to overwhelm you–that fresh start of yours isn’t feeling all that fresh anymore, is it?

Chrollo wouldn’t go find you right away, no, he’d let you struggle for a bit before he made a move. The Troupe would probably question their boss’ somewhat unusual approach to the situation, but they wouldn’t push their luck–they knew better than to risk overstepping any boundaries, especially when it involves you and Chrollo. Just because his love for you is fucked up unconventional doesn’t mean he’s going to act impulsively to get you back, that's not how Chrollo operates, his methods are much more refined and efficient than that.

But, that doesn’t mean Chrollo won’t be thinking of you. You’re always on his mind. He’d deny it, but the mental image of you–somewhere far away and stressed out, trying to move on with your life–was oddly satisfying. Some might say that’s cruel, but Chrollo sees it as conditioning. And Chrollo is a master manipulator. He may appear relatively passive on the outside, but you should never underestimate him. I feel like nothing is off-limits with Chrollo, and he’ll do anything and everything to make it impossible for you to leave him. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. So, it's really not much of a surprise that you’re remorseful about running away. That’s exactly what he planned.

From the very beginning, Chrollo has been subtly manipulating and conditioning you, instilling doubt and dependency within you. He’d isolate you from the outside world and from the other people in your life, both physically and emotionally. He kept you by his side, never allowing you to stray too far. Even when you thought you were alone, he was watching. He gave you the illusion of freedom–a door that was occasionally left unlocked, access to his entire apartment, the opportunity to go outside, but only with him. He’d make you question the relationships you had with everyone that wasn’t him, slowly turning you against them. Do they actually care about you? Do they actually understand you like he does? Those were his ways of making sure there was nobody else you can interact with, forcing you to become dependent on him for everything.

Chrollo wouldn’t stop there. There were times when he would let his guard down, allowing you to see moments of vulnerability. He would tell you things–his past, his thoughts–enough to make you believe there was more to him than the monster you feared. When you eventually opened up to him about your own thoughts, he’d listen. He always listened so fucking carefully. He made you feel like he understood you better than anyone else ever had, or ever could.

And it all paid off in the end. For him, at least.

It’s almost been two months without Chrollo and surprisingly, it doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would. In fact, your newfound freedom feels fucking horrible. It doesn’t make sense–you should be thrilled that you’ve managed to escape after being held captive for one year. You had planned this escape for months, spending countless nights going over it again and again in your head until it was foolproof. It worked, yet you were far from satisfied.

Feeling more than a little conflicted about your state of mind, you move to sit on the couch in your living room. The old, faded piece of furniture creaks beneath your weight as you settle into the cushions. It felt cold and unfamiliar. The couch was probably older than you–faded, torn, and pilling–unlike the expensive plush one that Chrollo has. That one felt warm and familiar. Anxiously, you stir your half drank cup of coffee and take a sip, grimacing slightly. Even his fucking coffee was better than yours.

This new life was supposed to be a fresh start, but instead, it was a constant reminder of everything you left behind. It seems that no matter how hard you try, you just can’t get Chrollo out of your mind. Every little sound–footsteps, doors opening–sent you into fight or flight mode, always on edge. It felt like you were living with a shadow that was slowly closing in, but you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to run away from it. Fear, longing, and resentment were just a few of the emotions you’ve learned to cope with, but it never got any easier.

Part of you missed the late night, deep conversations, the way he listened intently, as if your words were the most important thing in the world. Now, your nights are restless, haunted by constant nightmares involving a certain raven haired man. Maybe it's Stockholm syndrome? There’s no way to be sure–therapy costs money, and you aren’t exactly rolling in it. Your hands tremble as you place the mug down, spilling the dark liquid all over the side table. Still trapped in your mind, you get up from the shitty couch and head towards the kitchen, moving to grab a rag to clean up the equally shitty coffee.

A small creak from behind catches your attention, making you pause momentarily to glance over your shoulder. Like countless other times, there's nothing there. Maybe you don’t even need a psych to diagnose you, since you’re already going insane. Sighing, you grab the rag and start walking back toward the living room.

“A bit late for coffee, is it not?” The smooth sounding voice instantly makes you freeze in place, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with a rush of emotions. There’s a certain lightness in his tone that’s not usually present–it’s almost like he’s teasing yet chiding you. Either way, you weren’t going to concern yourself with the semantics.

It feels like your body has been completely paralyzed. Yet, somehow, you manage to summon the courage to slowly turn your gaze towards the source of the voice, finding it at the front entrance of your apartment. What you see is enough to make you feel faint, your head spinning and your stomach dropping like a stone–it’s Chrollo, looming in the doorway, his large eyes focused solely on you as a soft, enigmatic smile plays on his lips. Unconsciously, a whimper escapes your lips and your mind suddenly kicks into overdrive, frantically attempting to process the overwhelming reality of what’s happening. All those conflicting thoughts from moments ago flood back into your mind.

You find yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the relief of finally seeing him again and the chilling fear of what this unexpected encounter might bring. You had started a new life here, a life that was simpler, quieter, more peaceful. But as you stand there, facing Chrollo and the flood of memories he brings, you can't help but question–was it truly peace? You must’ve only been standing there–stuck in your thoughts–for a few minutes, but Chrollo seems to notice your dazed state and decides to speak up again, effectively snapping you back to reality.

“May I come in? We have so much to discuss.” Chrollo says, his voice as gentle and as reassuring as you remember. Without waiting for your response, he's already stepping across the threshold and moving into your apartment, making his way toward the living room. His approach is calm and measured. It’s almost as if he’s been in your apartment a thousand times before, and as if he has all the time in the world. Rooted to the spot, your hand trembles as you clutch the damp rag, watching as Chrollo takes your previously occupied seat on the couch.

“Chrollo?” You find yourself whispering, your voice barely more than a shaky exhale, hesitant and filled with uncertainty. Saying his name after the silence of these past months feels strange, foreign, but oddly enough, you find yourself not hating it. Chrollo doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, his gaze remains fixed on you as he sinks deeper into the couch, leaning back casually and letting his hands rest on top of his thighs. The silence stretches on, lingering too long, and a part of you believes he’s doing it on purpose.

“You seem troubled,” Chrollo observes, his dark eyes softening a fraction. “Come, sit. Let’s talk.” He insists softly, tilting his head toward the empty spot next to him on the couch, a silent command for you to join him. Despite his calm demeanor, it’s quite clear that he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He won’t deny it–your little escape was mildly infuriating. But he wasn’t entirely without compassion–at least, that’s what he liked to believe.

Your chest tightens painfully at his words, each breath feeling like a struggle, as if your lungs are refusing to expand. Your vision blurs as tears gather, threatening to spill over at any moment. You’ve reached your breaking point–the emotions you’ve been painstakingly avoiding have finally surfaced. The ache of remorse gnaws at you, a torrent of regret and guilt that you've been desperately trying to suppress. You open your mouth to respond–to say something, anything at all–but find yourself choking pitifully on a sob, no words coming out.

The tears start to fall, pouring down your cheeks as you stumble blindly toward the couch, dropping the rag on the ground and barely registering the resigned sigh that Chrollo lets out. You plop down onto the couch next to Chrollo, feeling utterly pathetic about your current state. Not even a second later, Chrollo’s arm slips behind your back and wraps securely around your waist, pulling your trembling body toward his. You don’t fight it, instead allowing your face to bury into the comforting warmth of his chest, while his hand gently cradles the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat over and over again, your voice cracking as you sob into his chest.

Chrollo’s quiet again, the silence only broken by your sniffles and unsteady breaths. His fingers thread soothingly through your hair, softly shushing you. “You’re okay, I’m right here,” he reassures, his voice stripped of its usual firmness, now softer, gentler, almost tender. His expression remains unreadable as he looks down at you, his eyes revealing nothing of thoughts that are undoubtedly coursing through his mind right now. Internally, however, he feels a tinge of satisfaction upon hearing your apologetic pleas. Maybe things can go back to the way they were, or maybe they'll morph into something new, something better.

There’s another pause, a moment where he lets you compose yourself. He doesn't mention your escape, or the remorse you've shown–not just yet. In truth, Chrollo is not the least bit surprised by your emotional spiral. He knows you well enough to understand that this is not merely a reaction to his relentless pursuit and eventual discovery of your whereabouts. No, this is an entirely different kind of response, one born out of internal conflict.

If it were any other man in this position, they might have felt guilty for putting you through so much torment. But Chrollo is not ‘any other man.’ Far from it. As he watches you break down in his arms, he doesn’t feel any guilt. He doesn’t see your suffering as something he should apologize for. Why would he? For Chrollo, he sees this as a necessary consequence of the bond he’s carefully created. And he can see that you’re finally starting to understand.

During your time together, Chrollo had a way of making you question everything. Slowly but surely, he instilled a sense of doubt and dependency within you. It was never obvious. That wasn’t his style.

He had a way of making you believe that the outside world was cruel and dangerous. Every time he caught you looking at the door, he’d remind you–without even needing to say a word–that he was the only one who could truly protect you. A raised brow and slight tilt of his head was more than enough to remind you of everything he had told you before. He was never threatening about it, he didn’t need to be. A simple look from him was all it took for you to hesitate, to second-guess walking out that door.

Would it really be better out there than here? Could you really handle Yorknew City? Surely, there were people out there much worse than him, right? People who wouldn’t think twice about taking advantage of someone like you. You could imagine it so vividly: faceless men with rough hands that wouldn’t give a shit about you, your struggles, or your pleas. They’d only see you as a pretty little thing to use. Chrollo never said it outright, but the implication was always there: he wasn’t like them. His touches, though somewhat unwelcome and borderline possessive, were never violent.

At least with Chrollo, you knew the rules and boundaries–his rules and boundaries. And he never lied to you, not really. The world really was dangerous. There really were people out there who would hurt you. He made sure that you believed he was the best choice. And who else was there for you, really? Not your friends, the ones he slowly convinced you that they didn’t care as much as they claimed. Not your family, who couldn’t possibly understand the complexity of your situation. No, it was just Chrollo. He wasn’t the monster you wanted him to be. He was something far worse: he was everything you didn’t know you needed. And that was much more fucking terrifying.

Finally pulling himself from his thoughts, Chrollo decides that he’s made you suffer in silence for long enough. “You should not have tried to escape, [name],” he says, his voice gentle but carries a clear note of criticism and disappointment. He deliberately uses your name, refraining from the endearing nicknames he usually employs. It's a subtle punishment, a way to remind you of your mistakes. He knows exactly what kind of impact it has on you–how the distance it creates makes you feel small, like a reprimanded child. “Predictably, it didn’t end well.” His tone is soft, almost conversational.

Chrollo pauses again, his fingers suddenly halting their soothing rhythm in your hair. Abruptly, he withdraws the comforting contact, depriving you of the warmth you didn’t even realize you’d come to depend on. You can’t stop yourself from tensing in his arms, struggling to stifle a choked sob. You can’t see it–not with your teary face buried in his chest–but there’s a faint curl of his lips, a flicker of satisfaction at your reaction. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. He lets out a deep, exaggerated sigh, his hand pulling away from your scalp completely. Now it rests on the frayed backrest of the couch, lazily tracing patterns on the rough fabric.

“Running… it doesn’t suit you.” The words are so plain, so final. It's not suggestion or opinion, but a fucking fact. It’s the way he always spoke to you, as if he knew you better than you knew yourself. “It only leads you to pain and suffering. Surely, you’ve realized that by now?” There is no anger or frustration in his voice, just that same steady, disorientating calm that makes you second-guess everything. He speaks as if this entire situation is simply an inconvenience to him, which makes it near impossible to decipher his true thoughts and feelings.

And then, Chrollo gently but firmly tilts your head up, leaving no room for you to resist him. Not like it would do you any good. Forcing you to meet his gaze, he studies you intently, his dark eyes partially shielded by the strands of raven hair that fall across his pale face. “You’re an intelligent woman,” he murmurs, and for some reason, it felt more like he was mocking you rather than giving you a genuine compliment. “I’m certain that you can grasp the situation.” As he speaks, his grip on your face tightens significantly, hinting at the threat that lies beneath his words. It’s his little way of telling you that you should know better.

You wince as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your jaw, more out of surprise than pain. The pressure isn’t unbearable, but it’s enough to remind you of his control. You don’t have much faith in your ability to form a coherent sentence right now, not when your throat feels tight and your thoughts are a jumbled mess. Instead, you nod in response, hoping it’s enough.

Chrollo’s eyes flicker with approval, and maybe a hint of amusement. It’s impossible to be sure with him. He releases your jaw as he lets out a satisfied hum of acknowledgement, now wiping away a few stray tears from your damp cheeks. The gesture should feel comforting, but instead, it leaves you feeling hollow, like being soothed after a punishment you never deserved. “Good girl.” The praise rolls off his tongue easily, but there’s no warmth in it. “You’re emotional,” he says, almost to himself. “But you’ll understand in time.”

“It’s time to go home. We’ll continue this conversation later,” He adds, reminding you that this matter is far from resolved.

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cryinggirlnamedhelen · 18 days ago

Text

@silverhypnos @opalwatch this is some heavy Chrollo yapping so yeah cool

———

in my humblest opinion, i just think that as a community (of phantom troupe and chrollo fans), we tend to be pretty annoying when it comes to talking about chrollo's intelligence. what i mean is that before the succession war arc, everyone worshipped chrollo's intelligence as if he was superhumanly clever and could make no mistakes when it came to predictions. however, after hisoka killed shalnark and kortopi and the troupe members were seen on the black whale, people were really harsh on chrollo and his intelligence.

however, there have been many times where chrollo has made some pretty ridiculous mistakes or missed something extremely important due to him being too invested in something else. chrollo even admits this himself, which is why i find it annoying that most fans just think that it's simply because chrollo got too depressed or something; because again, he's shown so many gaps in his intelligence. chrollo is human; he makes mistakes. he isn't all perfect and he will make stupid mistakes, like we all do. here are some examples of times that he hasn't made the most intelligent of decisions:

- during the kurta clan massacre, chrollo didn't think of the very real possibility that perhaps the full kurta clan wasn't present when he had massacred them. this is especially embarrassing because technically speaking, kurapika (in the canon hxh volume 0) was the one who revealed the existence of the kurta to the public eye (haha funny pun) due to him activating his scarlet eyes near the mountain that he lived. so chrollo not thinking that someone literally activating the scarlet eyes OUTSIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN might be OUTSIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN is definitely a mistake on his part. that mistake indirectly led to pakunoda and uvogin's deaths.

- chrollo getting revenge for sarasa's murder and making sure that “this [torturing] never happens to anyone in meteor city again” (chapter 397) indirectly might've led to even more crime and danger in meteor city. chrollo's plan was for the world's most dangerous leaders to show off their torturing video tapes at meteor city, find which one was sarasa's, and kill whoever had did it. according to chapter 405, the troupe was successful. after that, we don't know what the rest of their plan was. however, considering how the troupe members haven't gone to meteor city in a while before the chimera ant arc, the child k!dnappings have likely ended. but chrollo did indirectly lead more criminals (such as gyro) into meteor city. and what do criminals do? they commit crimes.

- chrollo doesn't learn from his mistakes permanently. in the past, sarasa went off alone, and that's how she ultimately died. however, in the yorknew city arc, before uvogin dies, he's perfectly fine with hisoka going off alone. after uvogin dies (who notably dies due to pursuing kurapika alone), for the next 2-3 DAYS, the troupe operates in small groups. however, after chrollo defeats hisoka, he lets shalnark and kortopi, two NENLESS people, walk around on their own. they're killed too. on the black whale, chrollo is perfectly fine with working alone (before shizuku and bonolenov approach him), machi is alone, and franklin is also alone. considering how chrollo and bonolenov are both currently (as of chapter 410) also alone, that means that shizuku is most likely alone too. and what happens to troupe members who are alone? they always die.

- this one's a pretty common one, but chrollo should have cut off hisoka's head for good measure; especially since chrollo literally knows of post mortem nen and literally has a nen ability in his book that literally uses post mortem nen.

so to any hxh fan who calls chrollo “stupid in the succession war arc” because he's depressed, chrollo has ALWAYS shown signs of being somewhat lacking in common sense. my personal theory is that this is due to his upbringing in meteor city, where common sense never applied. i still love chrollo (he's literally my favorite character in any source of media), but i just think that people constantly overrating chrollo's intelligence makes them have false opinions on his current status in the succession war arc.

#hunter x hunter #hxh #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo x reader #hxh hcs #hxh x reader #yandere chrollo #chrollo hcs #chrollo x y/n #chrollo lucifer x reader #chrollo x you #phantom troupe hcs #phantom troupe #headcanon #hxh theory #hxh theories

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lolita-lollipop · 8 months ago

Note

YANDERE CHROLLO YANDERE CHROLLO YANDERE CHROLLO YANDERE CHROLLO YANDERE CHROLLO YANDERE CHROLLO

Romance novels

Chrollo Lucifer x reader

Where Chrollo comes home, and you aren't there.

Warnings: Violence, cursing, yandere tendencies, Stockholm syndrome

The house was too quiet. Not that it was ever truly loud, you tended to keep to yourself even when he did prompt a conversation, you had a soft voice and a quiet nature of living, something he admired about you. Even so, as much as you wished he couldn't, he would always be able to tell where you were. He was hyperaware of your existence, of course he was.

So, coming back to the fancy apartment that served as your cage, to see no lights on, hear no footsteps, to not hear the soft pitter patter of your heartbeat, or the near silent sound of your breathing in another room. The apartment was far too quiet. And something had to be very wrong here.

Chrollo had been out for a week now , leaving you with a fully stocked fridge, a TV with any movie or show you would ever need to watch, and a phone that could only ever call him, or machi in the case of emergency. You were also left with one of the best security systems in the world, a stainless steel door that would only ever unlock with his fingerprint, and windows that were securely locked. Even so... walking in to the luxury apartment, it was clear that you had not been present for at least two or three days, and even worse, it was even more evident that you had not left willingly.

As he walked through the apartment, seeing the shattered vase of flowers he had gotten you before he had left, crushed glass littering the floors from the broken mirrors across the hallways, handprints and scratch marks lining the walls, and a large puddle of blood on the floor followed by a long trail where you clearly had been dragged. He realized that this was intentional, whoever did this wanted him to see your struggles, see our fingernails torn out from trying to scratch against the walls, be able to see exactly where they hurt you. Anyone who could get into this high security building, especially without him knowing, could kidnap a weak girl like you without any struggle or mess. This was personal, this was against him.

Slowly approaching the phone, he saw the cord had been ripped out of the wall, with the microphone piece thrown across the room, it had bloody fingerprints on numbers he could easily recognize as the start of his own phone number. You had tried and failed to call for help, to call him for help. Fuck. Fuck Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Chrollo Lucifer is not an impulsive nor an emotional man. He never has been one to get frustrated nor fearful, and he has certainly never been in a situation where panic would cloud his usually steady decision making process.

But here, now, his hands were shaking, his breathing heavy, and his heart was threatening to launch out of his chest. The thought of you, the one he was so terrifyingly in love with, the only person in the world who could make him feel something other than hate for the world, precious little you who couldn't harm a fly- the thought of you in the hands of one of his enemies (which as you could guess, he has a lot of), attacked and scared and barely able to speak up for yourself, let alone fight back. The thought alone had his eyes tearing up and his voice wavering as he called the troupe for a meeting, which was quite the rare event in itself.

They would pay. He would make sure they

Would.

---

It wasnt long before every single member of the troupe was standing in this apartment, they knew to be punctual, especially when chrollo sounded as pissed of as he did on the phone. Everybody knew you, at least knew about you. The only who had actually met you was machi, even then the word spread quick that you were to be protected with their lives if you were ever in danger, and their spot in the troupe was forfeited otherwise.

So here they were, sittting in your bloody living room, staring at the crime scene with such a sharp stare it could cut you. Nobody dared to even speak, Chrollo had never looked so angry. It wasn't often anybody had the balls to steal from them, especially something as priceless as you. All 13 of the spiders looked to chrollo for guidance, all of them knew how this would end. hundreds of people would die tonight, they all could only hope that you weren't included in that number.

A loud ping from Chrollos phone broke the heavy silence of the room. Nobody but you and the troupe had this number. And they were all standing right in front of him.

He was swift with checking his messages, coming from an unknown number.

“1,000,000,000,000 jenny. Or the girl dies.”

Sent 9:23 PM

The thought alone made his heart stop, he hadn’t even realized the phone had been crushed in his hands before the glass began to cut into his calloused skin. He wasn’t an idiot, criminals, scum like him would never let you go, even if he was to pay the price. They would see your value and hold you tight. You would be coming back into his arms tonight, but not through payment. He wanted to see blood.

“Shalnark. Track my messages, find where it came from. Everybody else, be prepared to kill. This will be an in and out, if you see someone who isn’t us, they die. Are we clear?” He wanted blood, countless bodies needed to lay at his feet just for taking you out of his sight. They were idiotic Neanderthals, messing with him, who was undoubtedly the most powerful nen user in the world. Let alone messing with the troupe, combined they could do anything. Kill anything.

They would pay. An eye for an eye. They took you, so he would take their lives. Seems fair.

He found himself sat in your usual spot on the couch while the rest of the troupe lounged around the apartment. His hand met the top of one of those silly books you enjoyed reading, the ones where the protagonist gets a super power and falls in love with the enemy. He always poked fun at you, told you how you should be reading more mature texts. He would always buy them for you though, anything to make you happy. Had you been reading when they had taken you? He couldn’t imagine.

Little defenseless you cuddled on the couch with a blanket and a book,just to be snatched and bound and terrified. You were too good, you probably didn’t put up enough of a fight, you were probably too scared to hit them where it would hurt. It’s why he kept you here, to keep you safe, what good that did for him. He sad in the couch , head in his hands. Such an abnormal thing for a man like him, it had the sorrounding troupe wondering who you really were.

You had to be something special for the one and only chrollo Lucifer to be so torn up about your well being. Chrollo has watched millions of people die, too many to even try counting, so one person should be forgettable. But you, special you, had chrollo functioning out of wack.

“753 crescenta lane, the apartment building on the left, three floors up apartment number 628” the second the words left shalnarks mouth as he typed away on his laptop, chrollo shot up from his seat, crescenta lane. A street far in the slums of the city,riddled with poverty and crime. Only a couple streets away from where he grew up, the outskirts of meteor city. Not a place for a soft thing like you to be. Not a place for any of his things to be, not anymore.

The rest followed as he quickly made his way out to the cars, heart rate slowing, excitement growing for revenge. He was prepared to do the utmost worst things he could ever do. Whoever did this deserved to suffer. To scream and cry and call for help while he tore them apart.

Oh you poor thing. You don’t understand the effect you have on him. He is never the violent one, that’s supposed to be feitan. Nor is he supposed to be the angry one, that’s uvogin. He just needed you back. Now.

———

-Y/n-

You weren’t really sure what had happened to you. One second you were on the couch, a cup of tea in your hand, and a new novel in the other. When you felt a little pinch in the back of your neck, your fingers went numb first, that’s how you knew something was very very wrong here. You could slightly remember going to the phone, and then being yanked back. Your head hit something, That must be why your neck hurts so bad. Before you knew it you couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t even breath. You remember something picking you up by the wrists and tossing you into the trunk of a car. From there on you mustve either been asleep or heavily zoned out. You couldn’t remember anything other than the roar of a loud engine.

You didn’t know much here

But you did know this was not your home

It smelled like mildew combined with unfiltered sewer water. The air was hot and dense, feeling heavy on your shoulders and in your lungs, and the feeling, oh the feeling. You had been barefoot when they had taken you, and here you were propped up in an uncomfortably rigid metal or wooden chair. As your bare feet felt the ground it was harsh concrete. It was so rough and cut up that it left a cut at the bottoms of your feet, there was something wet in the ground, if you could see you would assume it was blood.

Your neck was aching more than you could handle at the moment, your hands and arms were still numb from whatever drug that was floating through your bloodstream. You could barely muster up the strength to breath shallowly, let alone feed your lungs the air that was much needed. the lack of air combined with the lack of feeling in your body left your brain to feel fuzzy and understimulated. You hadn’t left the house in what felt like years, the familiar smell of vanilla (your favorite candles chrollo kept buying) being ever so absent freaked you out. Familiarity was comforting, and here you had absolutely none of it.

There was the quiet dripping of a faucet in the distance, maybe a leaky pipe or ceiling, the scuttle of a rat or two made you jump. You were below ground, maybe a basement, just by the way the air was denser and heavier. You used to be very observant, you haven’t had to think like this in a long time. Chrollo never gave you the chance.

That leaves the big question up in the air.

Would chrollo do something like this to you?

You have always known that he wasn’t the most stable individual, no matter how collected he might seem on the outside. There was always something complex going on, not that you ever had the brain or the care to figure it out. Thus far he hadn’t made any move to harm you, actually quite the opposite, he had always shown care, love even. You didn’t think he would do something like this.

You surely hoped he wouldn’t. You had known he was a criminal for quite some time now, and judging by his lavish lifestyle he was a bad one. You don’t get this rich by being nice. You also don’t kidnap people. If this was him, if he was the reason you were here, you were in for much worse than you could anticipate.

You should be more freaked out, it would be totally normal for you to be very very freaked out right now. Especially with how high strung you had become since moving in (being taken) with chrollo. A combination of sedatives and shock had your brain going in circles endlessly. Likely distracting from the impending doom you knew was to come.

Your head was basically off of your shoulders, floating up in space, to the point that you hadn’t even realized the heavy footsteps of a person entering the room. The crinkling of some kind of plastic, the clanking of metal.

What brought you back to earth was the feeling of a bag being pulled over your head.

A strangled gasp left your lips as the bag got tighter, a hand circling around your neck to fasten it. Confusion flowed freely through your veins as the hand released your neck and you were able to freely breathe once more. You didn’t know much, but if they were trying to suffocate you, shouldn’t you not be able to breathe? You heard the click of a camera turning on, likely for a video, before you were tipped back to be lying down on what felt like a medical metal table.

It was quiet, aside from your mumbles and moans of protest. It was quiet.

Then the water came.

It was like it was out of no where, the gag stuffed in your mouth was soaked with it in seconds, hefty splashes of water covering you and the bag over your head. You lied there in confusion for a few moments, not completely understanding what was happening. Whoever was doing this to you had yet to say anything, leaving you blindsided.

You tried to stay calm, you really did. But when the rag in your mouth soaked all the way through, and you realized you could no longer breath, panic seared off all of your calm nerves.

You’d never even thought of death, not once, not even in chrollos home. But here, but now , all you could think about was how you were going to die. How this was it, how your light was fading. How you couldn’t breathe how you couldn’t breathe. Oh god you couldn’t breathe.

You tried to thrash around, but your arms wouldn’t move, neither would your legs, all you could do was scream and thrash your head, if that. You feintly heard the sound of laughter past the bag, past the water. Were they laughing at you? Psychos. Fucking psychos. They were sitting here giggling while you slowly drowned. Fuck this. Fuck them. You hoped they would choke and die with you.

Fuck fuck fuck

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

Fuck this

Abruptly, the bag was ripped off your head, and the rag out of your mouth. The sounds of laughter continued as you sat there and cried. Heavy sobs left your mouth, if your hands were alive they would probably be shaking right now. The sound of a cameras click reverberated through the room, before the heavy footsteps getting quieter, then the slam of a door. You were left alone, cold, wet, and sniffling. What were you going to do? You were tied up, you couldn’t see, could barely think. They could do anything they wanted to you, and you would just have to let them. Oh god, this really was it wasn’t it. You were a gonor. And nobody would know where you were, not even chrollo.

Video sent 10:40 PM

Read 10:41 pm

———

-Chrollo-

They were On the way to your location when his phone buzzed again, this time with the notification of a video. He had asked pakunoda to watch it before him, in the case of the worst . He didn’t want to be the first one to know, otherwise everybody in this car might end up dead in his rage of a reaction. The woman politely grabbed his phone and viewed the video, the volume on low.

He could still hear it, hear your cries, your begging and whimpering. God he was going to obliterate everything in that building, and take you to the safest facility out there. Everyone around the small communication device looked tense as they watched it. Mainly because chrollo was tense enough for all of them.

They were used to torture and blood and all of the above, however not on people they liked, or at least on on people the boss liked. They have never been on the receiving end of the aftereffects, and they had absolutely no clue how to deal with it.

No doubt, it was something they would see as minor torture, but because it was you, it was nothing but major. Chrollo tried to be collected, tried not to show how much he truly cared. But the slow cracks of his knuckles and the tapping of his foot showed the members that he was anything but calm right now. He was out for blood, itching to get his hands back on you and hold you and love you and clean your wounds and keep you forever. He couldn’t wait to rip their organs about and then make them eat them, tear their eyeballs out and send it to their families, make them watch all of their colleagues find and slow gruesome death.

He was ready to spill blood by the time they had arrived, the malice in his energy making the air feel heavy and unbreathable, not anything special for the troupe around. But absolutely unbearable for any average passerby.

They were silent as the air itself as they entered the building through an open window, absolutely undetectable, even uvogin who was usually loud and blusterous. The tensions were high, bloodlust even higher. A majority couldn’t help but feel passionate over you, the boss was excited (a rare occurrence) so why wouldn’t the rest of them be?

It was calm in the building one second, the next, it was like a whole different dimension.

The screaming overpowered any other noise around, once the troupe had split up it had all began. The tearing of limbs, the cutting of heads, the more reckless members used their bare hands to pull people apart, the calmer ones settling for weapons. And chrollo, chrollo was different. Usually diplomatic till the inevitable death of his victims, he was now a cold killer, not even caring about conversation. The building was sweeped in minutes, dead bodies littering every nook and cranny. But still no you, they must’ve known that the troupe would come, you must be in high security.

“Where is she” the book master chrollo hissed, the collar of a man’s shirt bunched in one hand as he lifted him off the ground, mildly choking him. He looked petrified while looking into chrollos eyes, rightfully so. The man was covered head to toe in blood, sorrounded in a room of dead bodies.

“I-can’t tell you” chrollos grip began to tighten around his neck, beginning to crush his wind pipe.

“I may consider letting you free, letting you walk out if you were to answer. I’ll ask again. Where. Is. She.” He hissed once more, his grip brutally tight. The man looked fearful, his eyes flicking from one end of the room to the other , maybe to check for witnesses of his crime, maybe to check for his possible fate. Either way, he gave up to chrollos tight grip and empty promises.

“There’s a small door in the floor three rooms to the left of here, once you enter that door, you’ll have to search for a metal rimmed door with a lock. She’s in there. C-can I leave now?” The man stuttered out. Quivering in his grasp, chrollo let him go immediately after he answered, pulling his book out of his pocket. He gave a calculating glance to the short man, grimacing.

“You took too long to answer”

The man was splattered on the wall before he could even scream

———

-y/n-

It had been hours since the man was last in here, and the air had only gotton colder and wetter. Your clothing seemed to never dry and instead stay damp and frigid. They must have intentionally made it freezing in here, knowing that you would be lying down in the cold wet medical bed. You contemplated sleep, but eventually decided against it as you might wake up to some even stranger form of torture. So you sat, and you waited. You wanted to cry, but it seemed no energy was left in you to even let a tear drop roll your check. you also contemplated screaming, begging for your safety. bargaining, telling them how you were kidnapped before. But were again halted by doubt and exhaustion. it came to a point where you just lied down, still cold and ever so wet, and dry heaved. unable to cry, unable to scream, only able to sadly breathe. it felt like days, weeks even that you sat there wallowing in self pity and fear.

Then the screaming started.

At first it was just a faint buzzing in the air, something you wouldn’t been able to hear had you not been blindfolded and forced to listen as intently as possible. Then, it got louder, to the point where you could tell it was human cries, and a lot of them. Once it was loud enough to hear individual cries for help. You began to question, what is going on up there, did somebody invade, is there some kind of war… did somebody come to save you?

you tried to push out the thought, hope made you weak. made you sad once it was crushed. If chrollo had taught you anything, he had taught you that.

You tried at first to block them out, but eventually gave up as they were far too loud and far too constant to ignore. Instead, you opted to listening to what they were saying, there was the occasional “somebody please”, or a "help me". You found yourself intrigued once it got quieter and you started to hear the more specific cries of "We don't know where she is" or "we didn't know she was yours". You forced yourself to swallow that hope once more, secretly wishing for a knight in shining armor, even if it was chrollo. At least he wasn't water boarding you and laughing through the process, at least he was kind and calculated and loving. well shit, what a crazy situation to make even you believe chrollo was the good guy.

you had already been fearful when the screaming was loud, echoing through the empty room.

but when it went silent? thats when the real fear kicked in.

you werent an idiot, you knew whatever it was, even if it wasn't in your favor, was going to comb through this entire building, they must be looking for something. wether they were looking for you or not simply didn't matter, somebody was going to find you.

the fear that it could be your demise brought out that last bit of energy you needed in order to cry. And once more, you were in tears again. they only got worse as heavy footsteps found their way coming closer and closer, loud slams signifying doors being blown open. whoever this was, was not the man who was in here earlier, you could feel power radiating off them, and they were loud, and clearly big, noisier than the man from before. you were holding your breath by now, hoping to either not be heard, or pass out. either way you would not meet this man face to face.

just your luck though, presumably the metal door (you were still blindfolded and couldn't tell what it was) was ripped off its hinges, the sound screeching through the once-quiet room. it was thrown to the floor with a loud slam, and you were dumbfounded by the pure bloodlust radiating off this man, you could basically smell it in the air. you tried to peek through the blindfold to no avail. and once more found yourself in tears. you had found your arms slightly mobile by now, and were struggling with al your might, screaming, whimpering,and crying. anything to get you out. surprisingly, whoever this was had not harmed you, hadn't put you out of your misery. either they were winding up their power, or waiting till the time was right. tension settled in the room.

"uh-boss, I found her"

The voice was much closer than you had anticipated, causing you to jump a couple inches off of the seat. The blindfold was torn off your head in one fell swoop, leaving you squinting and unable to see clearly, a large man was standing in front of you, that much was obvious. He was staring, not in a creepy way you had grown used to in the presence of chrollo, but in a “what the hell do I do” kindof way. Like he had to make a decision but also didn’t want to touch you, most of all he looked at you like you would break if he so much as spoke too loud.

The silence and staring came to an abrupt end when you were able to hear quiet footsteps in the hallway, followed by chrollos familiar face. Albeit it was covered in blood, however still recognizable. It was like your world had just, stopped. Came to a screeching halt leaving you and chrollo there with locked eyes and a bit too much love for somebody who had been kidnapped multiple times over now. You had never thought that seeing him would make your heart slow, make your breathing become even, make your nerves fizzle into nothing. At first you had believed that he was the worst thing to ever happen to you. But here, but now

When he wrapped his arms around you like never before, holding you tighter and closer than usual. His smell drowned the coppery stench of blood out, leave your arms to squeeze him back for the first time ever. You don’t even remember how your restrains were taken off, but it didn’t even seem to matter as his hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you tighter. Maybe you could love chrollo, maybe you already did.

“I want to go home” you muttered, finding his hand and squeezing. You lifted your head up, finding the watching eyes of a couple others in the room. You weren’t used to people anymore, it was strange seeing so many, seeing that they saw you. You wanted away, to go home and be happy, although you were greatful to them for helping, for saving you. Strangely enough, the thought never crossed your mind to ask for help, wether it was because you figured out they were with chrollo, or that you simply didn’t care.

As he hooked his arm underneath your Knees and lifted you up, cradling you like a child. You would usually complain, but you won’t. This felt too nice. Your eyes found themselves fluttering shut as your hand interlocked with his, he squeezed. Thsi was safe, he was safe. That was the last thing you were able to think before you fell deeply and uncaringly unconscious.

How things have changed

With a quick flick of his wrist he opened the same phone that got him into this situation, and with a snide smirk tapped with his free hand. Thank god this was over. And you were his again.

Fuck you

Sent 4:37 AM

———————————————————————

There’s a lack of chrollo content, if anybody has any recs plz send them lol.

Have a great day, bye.

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0asisbliss · 5 months ago

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Train ride

Parings: Yan!Chrollo x Reader

•A/N: This story popped out of the side of my head.

Context: Running away was from him was the best option. It was clear that once he found you, you would never be able to leave again, so you had to make sure that would never happen. It wouldn’t right?

Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, Mentions of blood, etc. Sorry for any spelling errors!

2 months ago-

“Sweetheart? I’m going out again. Don’t wait up for me okay? Y’know what to do while I’m away right?”

You looked up at him from writing without any expression on your face you nodded without a word.

Chrollo really hated when you did that honestly it made him feel sad? Ever since he took you in it’s been like you hated him or something. Oh how he would kill to see the pretty smile of yours again.

How you would look at him with adoring eyes instead of the eyes have no emotion in the whatsoever.

As Chrollo left you took out a big sheet of paper with writing all over it. It was your plans of an escape. You needed to get out of this hell whole. It was risky. Chrollo obviously had eyes everywhere on you, and not just cameras. People in places that would catch you and bring you right back to him.

You need to carry it out and do it fast. You can’t afford to waste time either.

You waited till Chrollo got back home and to finally do what you needed to do. Everything was planned out all you needed to do was finally get the balls to do it.

You waited a couple minutes after Chrollo was sure enough gone to get your bags and start your venture. You started walking to preserve your energy. The train station was only a couple miles away. You could make it if you were fast enough. You had an advantage leaving at night. You were always on schedule with Chrollo. When he left in the middle of the night you would always be asleep. That’s exactly what he thought.

You went farther into the woods and after running a couple of more miles you finally reached the train station you didn’t predict the hoards of people being there. You would’ve thought at night it would’ve been that busy.

As you boarded the train there was only one passing thought in your head.

Will my plan be successful? Will my plan be successful? Will my plan be successful? Will I even live?

You knew Chrollo wouldn’t kill you, but there was always this weird glint in his eyes once he told you that he never wanted you to leave him.

There were times where he had you on his lap. Smoothing your hair back and kissing your forehead.

“Honey? Do you know how much I love you? If you ever tried to leave me I’m afraid of what I’ll do, but you should know I would never kill you. I couldn’t bring myself to do that.”

Though in that moment you wanted to die. It was pure humiliation with him. He had you on his lap infront of all of the phantom troupe. They’re the reason that you two broke up in the first place.

At first it killed you the way you wanted to separate from him, but it had to be done.

That mindset right there was the reason you were in this predicament in the first place.

It hurt you the most that, that was the most normal mindset one would think of. That’s what happens when you find out that your boyfriend is the head of the phantom troupe the deadliest, and most wanted group in the world.

Honestly when you found out you didn’t expect Chrollo to be so calm. It’s when you said that you were leaving. Now that was the last straw.

When you got on the train you look up at the night sky. It wasn’t pitch black like usual it was something about. It was a beautiful dark vivid blue with every little star. It made you smile. For the first time in a while you and smiled.

Instead of reminiscing you took some time to self-reflect on yourself. Looking at the bright side of things.

Now that you’re finally away from Chrollo you can do things you couldn’t have in that prison of a cabin he kept you in.

You went to dig in your bag to find your headphones. You found them and turned them on you took a phone you ordered not to long ago and listened to music to drown out the thought of Chrollo clawing at your mind.

You looked at the sky and the clouds were slowly moving. They kind of reminded you of jellyfish. This night was one to be remembered and cherished in the future.

A sweet moment. To finally get a taste of freedom-

Your thoughts were cut off by the train coming to an immediate stop. You and a couple of other passengers flung forward. Panic spun throughout your head. Your heart pounding and pulsing in your chest. You take off your seatbelt and grab your bag, a dart out the train. You knew this could only be one thing.

Chrollo found you.

Shit. You were almost there. You just had 3 more hours. 3 measly fucking hours. He couldn’t wait, and feed into your delusions? Asshole.

You were in the middle of nowhere at this point you didn’t know where you were as you run you hear a pair of footprints behind you. Then you hear multiple.

Shit, shit, shit. Did he bring the troupe?

As you look back and lost in your thoughts you bump into a tree. You hit your head and before you know it you’re unconscious.

Your head spins and your vision is blurry. Even though it’s dark outside you see sparkles in the sky, you still see the stars shining so bright.

The sky is still a beautiful hue of dark blue. And here you are the opposite. Laying on the ground about to fall unconscious and oblivious to the darkness, and voiding evil that’s about to consume you whole.

You wake up in a room. You aren’t in the cabin you’re sure of that.

“Honey? Your awake. Can you feel anything?”

As you open your eyes you can’t see him it’s spotty your vision is blurry, and your ears are ringing. You can hear him but it’s muffled.

“Your head was so bloody my love.”

Even though you could barely you could hear the venom in his voice. He was not happy.

Present time

Here you are still in this room. All he’s giving you is a blanket. You yearned for his touch every time he came back in the room for you.

It was to much you needed Chrollo you wanted to be under him 24/7. What were you thinking? Leaving him? Never again. If anything you need him now. You need to feel his gaze, and his touch. Wanted his attention more than anything. He barely kisses you now it hurt your heart. Once he finally lets you out again you swear never to leave him.

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ataraxiaspainting · 3 months ago

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Solace in You.

Yan Nobunaga x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, some infantilization, implications of past non-con, and major spoilers for the Yorknew Arc (Uvogin).

Word Count: 300.

*~*~*~*

Something is off about Nobunaga – more so than usual.

The phone he gave you used to be used strictly to call him with, but after a few weeks of asking him for more entertainment he downloaded a few games on it for you to play while he is gone for another heist. You’re unsure how it can have service and wi-fi and yet still have most of its functions nowhere to be found. Typing any number aside from Nobunaga’s on the dial keys will be met with silence. Co-op games are nowhere to be found in the app store. The app where you can search things up on the internet still works, but almost all results end up being age-restricted in some way.

“How was your day?” Nobunaga’s voice hardly comes out of the speakers – you can hear his breathing you think, or it belonged to some poor soul who just happened to cross him at a bad time. For once he doesn’t call you a nickname; another observation pointing to the fact something is wrong. You want him to suffer for what he has done to you, yes, but you also don’t want to be the sole thing or person he’ll use to let out some steam.

It’s happened before and you still get nightmares about his hands grabbing you and-

“[First]?” Nobunaga calls out, interrupting your thoughts.

“It was fine.” You reply, your words essentially a broken record with how many times your captor has asked that very same question multiple times a day.

“That’s great,” A sigh, perhaps one of relief. “I’m glad.”

“Nobu?” You don’t call him anything aside from Nobunaga unless forced to, but you say the moniker because your gut tells you to. It’s for the best – it could help you not become a stress ball when he comes back from Yorknew. “Are… you okay?”

Only silence. You’re unsure if you’d want it to remain this way.

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shalscumbunny · 1 year ago

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For what reasons would members of the Gen'ei Ryodan impregnate their S/O?

TW: Mentions of forced relationship, forced pregnancy, gestation, breeding kink, body changes, parenthood, children, possible threat to children

Phinks:

It is the type of couple that is extremely overprotective, at the same time that it is extremely dominant, there is no better way of dominance than to impregnate your beloved, leave her plump and unable to do anything, so that she does not do anything stupid, nothing bad happens to her and there is no doubt that he is your absolute owner because you are carrying HIS child, and the idea of fucking you pregnant isn't something he's going to refuse either, he likes the idea, I'll just say that and of course he will love his child, I feel that he is the type of man to whom being a father comes naturally.

Feitan:

I don't feel that Feitan understands that concept of "family" and "parenting" and he doesn't care much either and if you're not very interested in the subject, pregnacy is not something that is going to happen, BUT, if we go to his sickest and most twisted side, especially the sadistic one and mixing it with a yandere or quite sick theme, if he sees that the idea of getting pregnant from him terrifies you as he is your captor, he is going to impregnate you with desire and on purpose, just to fuck you, torture you and well, in the process he will mark territory, by fucking you he will torture with the idea, if he achieves his goal now he only has the same thing left, making you feel bad, making you feel guilty, but he will probably still take care of you since in the end you are valuable to him.

Uvogin:

He barely fell in love with you, he knew that you were going to be the mother of his 78 children, Uvogin is the stereotype of a man who wants to get you pregnant 24/7, it won't even be two months after you have given birth before you are already pregnant again, he simply likes it because it is a way to keep you by his side, dominate you and take ownership of you. He has a fairly activated reproductive instinct due to his barbaric and somewhat animal nature. He's excited about getting you pregnant, he's excited about having you pregnant, he's excited about being able to fuck you when you're swollen with his babies. Added to that he may be a horrible person, a thief, a murderer and many other things, but it comes naturally to him to be a father, he loves his children, all of them.

Nobunaga:

The truth is that I feel that Nobunaga is one of these characters with the authentic desire to one day have children, he likes the idea of raising little swordsmen who run from one place to another simulating an epic and legendary duel and there is no better way to join the love of your life than forming a family (That's what he thinks) It doesn't matter much if you agree, it will still happen.

He is going to get you pregnant, he is going to take care of you and he will do everything humanly possible to be with you, of course I also emphasize that probably doing it with you even if you are pregnant, it is quite exciting for him.

Franklin:

I wouldn't know how to interpret him very well in fact, I feel that he is not someone who is dying to be a father but he also does not hate the idea and if you ask him he will listen to you, he will take great care of you and his little ones. (I DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT FRANKLIN, FORGIVE ME FRANKLIN FANS!)

Illumi:

The same as with Uvogin, but somewhat different. He would say that he has a fairly marked kink breeding because in his family he has seen it as common and necessary to have many children (he literally has 4 siblings). When he fell in love with you the next thing in his brain was to imagine the family he would have with you as soon as possible. Once you are together (Whether by marriage or kidnapping) Illumi will probably have locked himself in the room with you until he makes sure that you are pregnant, Illumi never shows his emotions, but when he is fucking you and has you tightly grabbed, his body trembles of the emotion and excitement of being able to get you pregnant. Once you are very pregnant and swollen, he won't stop fucking you either (As long as your child is safe), he can simply become more obsessed with you now that you are carrying his baby. If everything goes well, I estimate at least 7 pregnancies, furthermore, all these pregnancies are going to be followed, as soon as you give birth, it will be a matter of time before he impregnates you again.

Hisoka:

I don't find any logical reason, he likes the idea of having a partner, but not forming a "family." The only reason I can find is that in his moments of madness and revenge.

Especially if he has already left the Gen'ei Ryodan and wants revenge, if you are a partner of one of them, he will impregnate you with hatred and desire but only for revenge.

Shalnark:

I think we have already talked about this in this profile multiple times but we will do it again.

Shalnark doesn't want kids, he hates kids, he hates kids grabbing his things, he hates not being the focus of your attention and everything related to pregnancy and having kids.

BUT

It is an idea that he can consider in the same way, if he consider that you have problems in the relationship, he will consider an alternative to soften you and tie you down.

In other situation, if you mention it to him, obviously you have to beg him if you are the one who wants to have children, but if you are convincing, you will have your child.

But Shalnark is cruel and twisted in nature, I don't think he is someone who loves his children in a paternal way, he probably sees them as a pet and will appreciate them (Also as something to blackmail and threaten you with).

Chrollo:

Chrollo is a being of curious, selfish and greedy nature, a being rejected by the world. I think he has that desire to form a family and ABOVE ALL, have a child, it is something that will finally be authentically HIS.

It's not that he KILLS to get you pregnant or it's a mortal necessity (Like Uvogin to Illumi) but it's a recurring thought.

It doesn't matter if you agree or not, he's still going to get you pregnant when he can. He is going to push hard into your pussy and he is going to cling to your body telling you how beautiful mother you are going to be and how he is not going to stop until you are all swollen and pretty, that you will be his queen and that he will do everything for you.

Simply love your pregnancy, love hugging your belly, talking to it and planting soft kisses on it.

Thanks for reading this shit 🤍

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citrus-writing · 6 months ago

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yandere phantom troupe - make you mine

nsfw, warnings for dub-con and non-con

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

Thinking about yanderes you can avoid having sex with for a considerable amount of time. the ones who, despite wanting you so badly, have the patience not to force you into anything. Why would they, when you're already so perfect?

Includes: chrollo, machi, feitan

Chrollo sees you as so cute and innocent, sweet and shy, almost. And that plays into your favor when he's so cautious in his approach. He’s so patient with you. Because to him you're made of glass, and he won't risk breaking something so precious. A part of him wants you to come to him- Maybe after so long in isolation, you could. But if you don't, he's not too bothered, because of course you can't approach him with something like this- you must be so nervous. But as time drags on, and Stockholm syndrome starts to set in, you find yourself less and less opposed to the idea, and worse still, is that he notices the change in you.

Machi is too nervous to talk to you, and she nearly punches you in a fit of nerves when you reach out to tug at her sleeve to get her attention- so it's safe to say she can't bear to touch you. When you touch her she feels electric, and it both excites and scares her. If you ever get to the point of wanting to be close with her, inviting her into your space is better than trying to invade hers. Don't hug her, ask her to hold you. Don't try to crawl into her bed, beg her to stay with you in yours. If you want her to touch you, it's best to tell her. It’s not hard to warm up the idea of being intimate with her, but she’s unlikely to notice your change of heart, too afraid to ruin everything she’s built with you.

Feitan is once again, really messed up about this. Because he wants you, almost more than any of the others, but he can't seem to get close to you. It's almost a blessing that you shake and cry whenever he comes near. The sight makes him almost happy under normal circumstances. Except now; when he's sitting on the edge of your bed, and you're curled up as far away from him as possible. Of course, he's done nothing to make you warm up to him. In fact, being kidnapped by him is worse than you imagined. He's equal parts endeared and repulsed by the sight of you, and touching you is so much worse. He won't force intimacy for a long time, mostly based on his own anxiety at being close to you.

Thinking about yanderes who try to make you give in to their advances. Yanderes who know they could take you by force, of course, but they’re far more charmed with the idea of wearing you down, making you come to them.

includes: shizuku, pakunoda, shalnark

Shizuku is almost pestering you about it- isn't she pretty? Isn't she sexy? Don't you ever wonder? You must be lonely. Wouldn't it be nice? To have someone touch you and love you and take care of you? She’ll say or do anything to try to wear you down, and sometimes you wonder if it’d be better to just let her win. But then you remember she kidnapped you, took you from everything you loved. Still, when she comes around and touches you just so, the temptation is ever present.

Pakunoda isn't nearly as obvious, in fact, you can almost convince yourself that maybe your misunderstanding, maybe she just craves the closeness of holding you. But something about the offer to come to bed with her is laced with some kind of warning- the point of no return. And she’s been the perfect captor, caring and kind and gentle- you know that this would be the same, that she’d take care of you and that she’d make it good for you- but you cant let yourself give in, no matter what she does to sway you.

Shalnark is someone who wears you down with time- sure, he could force you, but there's no fun in that. Not when it's you. He wants you to come around, wants you to break under the pressure. Every touch and kind word and every little gift has been leading you here, and you've fallen for it everytime. You've been grateful- and you can't pretend you didn't know the cost. So when he places his hands on your skin and feels you try to pull away, he frowns, because you’ve accepted everything else so willingly. Still, it’s cute to see you try to win this.

Thinking about yanderes who force you into their bed, afterall, you belong to them. There’s no sense in denying themselves when you're already here, already locked in their home, already trapped with them forever.

Includes: llumi, hisoka, uvogin

Illumi goes forever without touching you- you almost believe he doesn't want to. You lull yourself into a sense of security that someone like him is above desire. That was your mistake. And now, pinned down to his bed, you feel like a fool for not having seen it coming. He’s wanted you, and his perceived hesitance was never for your sake; always just him taking things at whatever pace he preferred. And now that he wants more from you, he won't hesitate to take it.

Hisoka doesn't wait long, to be honest. And with him, you see it coming from a mile away. As soon as he takes you away, locks you up in his home with him, you know that a part of it is this; that he desires you. You’ve known that from the start, and he’s never tried to hide it. It’s pointless to try to fight him on it, and if you give in to him, he makes a point to let you enjoy it.

Uvogin also doesn't wait long, maybe he wanted to wait- because he’d love for his feelings to be returned, and the idea of you wanting him is enticing, but he lacks the patience and in the end, it doesn't matter. In the end, he’s already got you here and it’s only a matter of time before he has you in his bed. And waiting for you to come around to his advances is such agony. No, he’s decided. It’s better to take what he wants.

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hisokakissmeplz · 6 months ago

Note

How would the adult trio teach reader who has never done oral? Would they be reassuring? Would they force your head down?

gotten so many blowie rq lately u freaks

Hisoka

He's kind the first time surprisingly

At least a first

He knows he's big and hard to take, letting you slowly take home into your mouth

He smirks when you choke, his hands holding your head reassuringly, fingers interlocking in your hair

After a little while, his tip hits the back of your throat, forcing a groan out of him

He begins to speed up, his hands gripping your hair harshly as he forces your head down to deep throat him

He's praising you the whole time, despite his rough throat fucking

Kisses you after and his very encouraging, he wants you to enjoy it just as much as he does

Illumi

Probably his first time too honestly

He's virgin sensitive, flinches when your breath fans over his tip

He comes around to it, falling into a rhythm of slowly rocking his hips into your mouth

Tells you everything he's feeling, teaches you how to please him

Very soft the first time

BUT

after that he becomes addicted to stuffing his dick down your throat whenever you let him

If you let him throat fuck you he'll propose right there

"Darling...fuck-marry me?" "Mmphn!"

Chrollo

Perfect gentleman

Guides you through the whole thing, holds your head softly, easing your mouth onto him

Teaches you by letting you suck his fingers first

Loves 69

I feel like he's a giver so he'd definitely wanna please you in whatever way he can while your blowing him

Loves answering calls during it too

He wants everyone to know how much you love to please him

Sorry if this sucks I haven't written in forever

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boy-pussyyy · 7 months ago

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i had an incredibly vivid dream about three mafia yanderes having the hots for the same victim. it's gonna be a looooooong one.

I'm imagining the guys as Nobunaga, Phinks, and maybe Feitan (hxh), or shigaraki, dabi, and hawks (mha/bnha).

tw: noncon, public sex(?), human trafficking (will get to that part later)

imagine you meet them in the cinema during a uni exchange programme. you're in a foreign country, you befriended like two other people who speak your language and you usually stick to those same people.

one day your group decides to go to the cinema but have to split up due to the crowd. you end up in between two attractive guys and aside from the awkward shuffling you have to make to get to your seat, you don't interact with them much.

then during the movie they start getting handsy. the guy on your left slips his hand under your skirt and the guy on your right gropes your chest, pulling a knife on you to keep quiet. abandoning all self preservation, you take a breath to scream but a hand slaps over your mouth, his burly arm almost crushing you. your heart stutters and you wish it'd stop completely, there was a third guy!

there's nothing you can do but sit there as they grope you. the man on your right sucks hickies into your neck while he fondles your breasts, while the one on your left pulls your panties aside and dips his fingers into your waistband, but whatever moans that escape you are muffled by the hand over your mouth. you can practically hear them grin as you start convulsing, the combination of the lips on your neck and fingers in your cunt tipping you over the edge, and they keep going when the pleasure bleeds into overstimulation.

you're gasping and twitching when they finally pull their hands away. the man on your left licks his fingers clean, the obscene gesture making you flush further, if possible. his mouth splits into a grin, and he taps your thigh, whispering a quick "thanks for the meal" before getting up and leaving with the man who'd covered your mouth.

the man on your right stays to help fix your clothing. or at least, he tries to while groping your curves one last time. once satisfied, he pulls back, giving you a quick peck on your forehead. the uncharacteristic action stuns you more than anything they'd done to you and you almost miss his parting words.

your friends find you after the movie, teasing you for falling alseep during the action scenes. but all you can think of are the men's fingers on you and how one had stayed to give his goodbyes...

"see you around, cutie."

(I'll write the rest later, i literally just woke up)

ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

#yandere phantom troupe #yandere feitan #yandere phinks #yandere nobunaga #yandere noncon #yandere dabi #yandere hawks #yandere shigaraki #yandere bnha #yandere hxh #boypussyyy writes

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hhighkey · 8 months ago

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Cry-Baby // Phinks, one shot - part of hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: implied past kidnapping, emotional manipulation, possessive/overprotective tendencies, rough sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, overly sensitive / easy to manipulate reader, phinks is not the good bf reader thinks he is, reader is unaware of the troupe until halfway, panic attacks, anger issues Note: around 13.2k words, ao3 link: xxx , this one shot is a big expansion off the smut headcanon I did awhile ago for Phinks. This has references to my Uvogin oneshot 'Taken' as his partner is the Reader from that (she's unnamed), and my Feitan one shot 'An Ode to...' is referenced slightly. On ao3 I have these one hits in a series for like a ‘phantom troupe universe’ so there's some overarching themes / connections going on. which reading the others aren't needed tho if u don't want!

It didn't take much, the TV channels with the abandoned dogs or a too sappy book, even your favorite ice cream being sold out. You'd be tearing up, lash line wet and moist as tears slowly dripped down. A tightening in your sensitive chest as you desperately tried to stop the looming cries that always found their way out.

Since the day a tall muscular, handsome blonde in a tracksuit walked into your life, everything changed. At first overwhelming joy over the man who memorized your coffee order, brought you tulips after you said you liked them in passing. Even your elderly next door neighbor adored him and she was a tough nut to crack.

You weren't sure when it changed. Six months of spending time together, careful glances as you saw how Phinks had immeasurable strength yet he'd blush at the smallest of things that came to you.

So when did your life take a hard right turn? Had it really been the moment you meant Phinks, or was it when you told him about your new job opportunity with relocation? You remembered the panic on his chiseled features, how he ran his thick fingers through his combed blonde locks. How your back hit the wall as he stood over you, apologies spilling from his lips and then black.

Intense grief over your past life and sudden lack of freedom contributed to the constant tears of your already sensitive state. Did you necessarily care that the man you loved was insanely protective, not allowing you to leave his home? And that your poor, soft head never once considered it to be kidnapping? Once dreaming of the day he asked you out but now he wanted you by his side forever? Phinks tried his best, he really did, leaving the room if a fight got intense, body language the epitome of a dangerous man when angry. Even as his fists clenched in anger because you refused something. Let you yell at him. Let you have your moments to starve yourself just to spite him. But the man knew how to woo- from your favorite music to shows, to learning to bake with you. His hot temper and possessive tendencies meant little when he babied and cared for you every turn.

One day, you supposed you'd just snapped that your relationship with Phinks was more important than being able to have a phone or shop on your own. Or perhaps you gave into the feelings that were already there before he took you. You just stopped fighting the claws of doubt that nudged at your mind that kidnapping someone was not normal, that you can't be with him now. That meant little once you finally pressed your lips to his out of the blue and his tense muscled melted against you. Once you remembered a book you read in school, an intense look into the life of a woman who had intense Stockholm Syndrome and the psychology into it. You cried and cried over the book. Mourned for the fictional character, but somehow, in a messed up way you kept finding yourself rooting for their love. Maybe that was a big reason the author wrote it. You didn’t believe your love for Phinks was based on a psychological abuse based bond.

Phinks took you because he feared he’d lose you, he’d apologized for his mistakes. He never got violent towards you when business went bad or you’d not communicated in a way he needed while traveling. And that was good enough for you.

Oh you could not wait for him to get home, he'd called the landline this morning to let you know he was on his way. You could jump for joy, heart racing with every growing excitement, fluttering nerves as you'd cleaned the townhome all morning.

You glance to the timer, the minutes ticked down to when your garlic butter pull-away bread would be done- Phinks’s favorite. Growing up, your mother always emphasized the importance of a clean home, of cooking and preparing a meal for someone after a long day's work. You hoped she'd be impressed with the life you had with Phinks.

'Alright,' you smiled to yourself as a faint alarm went off. Grabbing the oven mitts, you pulled the perfectly golden loaf out and placed it on the cooling rack. Oven now off you left the kitchen to change.

It was almost time for Phinks to arrive home. You’re too impatient by that point, keep looking at the clock in your bedroom. The scent of him that lingered on the pillow you liked to hug close was no longer comforting in his place. With a smile you wanted to dress up better, so you made your way to the closet to pick a dress.

"Babe?" The front door to your shared townhome slammed shut. Phinks's voice carried up the stairs even though you heard him going towards the kitchen most definitely smelling the fresh bread.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, a gentle smile as you smoothed down your dress. It was a new one Phinks had given you with a blush, saying he saw it and figured you'd look cute. And seeing him so embarrassed made you giddy, excited for him to see you in it.

And of course you'd let him know you missed him the last few days he'd been gone on a business trip.

"Hey, coming down." You called out, making your way to the stairs. You saw his bag dropped at the door with shoes discarded, mentally making a note to straighten them up.

"There you ar-" Phinks stopped mid sentence as his gaze lasered on you, he always hated having you out of his sight, made him nervous. His pupils went big as they traveled along every inch of skin, raking in the dress that fit your body perfectly, "Shit you look good."

"Think so?" You blushed, nervous as you gave him a little spin.

"Know so."

Phinks wasted no time to grab your waist and pull you into him. He breathed in your scent as he peppered kissed onto the top of your head. He relished in how you squeezed him, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Missed you." You whined before giving him your best puppy eyes, "You aren't leaving anytime soon again right? Been gone a lot lately and I hate sleeping alone."

"Aw baby," Phinks cooed, "You're adorable. Hate being away from you, you know that right?"

You nod, enthused and burning with want. Liquid heat spreads throughout your core as his hands slyly inch closer, "I know." It never took long for Phinks to get you undressed and pliant beneath him, completely at his mercy. The feeling of his warm body encapsulating yours was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his cologne. Light kisses fanned your hot skin as he reclaimed your lips for the nth time, meshing into a feathery pure want.

It was those kisses, how you found yourself stripped, panties discarded and the top of your dress pulled down enough to free your breasts, the skirt hiked up. His fingers dig into your hips and you think you’ll have bruises for days from how his hips had thrusted into your cunt for the last hour. Sounds of slapping skin still reverberated in your ears as beads of sweat littered his skin, muscles always flexing with every movement.

"Oh baby," Phinks cooed as he stroked your cheek, fingers pinching and squeezing your wet stained flesh.

You were a mess. Shaking hips and messy hair, eyeliner smeared under the waterline. Phinks had made you cum more times than ever already since got back and started with his head between your legs. So poor little you was a babbling mess with clouded, lust filled thoughts.

Phinks preferred you this way, well-behaved and hazy, gasping for breath underneath him with your calves resting on his biceps. You're so dazed you barely notice how his thumb flicks to your sensitive clit making your lower body spasm,

"Oh!" you gasp as you see stars. And it's all becoming too much. How hot your body is, how untamable a fire within you is as your hips buck and knots tighten in your abdomen. "Too much Phinks!! Can't-"

And that's when your tears fall. As if all cords and knots snapped at once your mind glittered with pleasure- too much pleasure that it was painful. So much so that you let out an honest to god sob as pools of wetness stain your flushed cheeks. Phinks hips stuttered for a second, coming to a halt as he watched you cry with love in his eyes. The way you were a goddess underneath him, how your face contorted and with hips giving him perfect friction.

"Oh fuck baby- that's hot, keep fucking crying for me." Phinks pressed into you more as he spoke low like a threat, cock pistoning against your cervix as he abused your clit, his thumb determined to stay put as you squirmed. Seeing the puddles fall from your eyes made him shake, a shiver running down his spine.

And tears fell faster from his words alone as your abdomen burned. You barely recognize the whines leaving your lips through sniffles and cries, and snot begins to drip. Your poor wrists burn from the rope that tied them to the bed frame, the helplessness turning you on even more.

Phinks face was inches away as he loomed over you, his pupils blown wide as he grinned past his canines. He found it so fascinating how the tears rolled down staining the sheets around your head. Fascinating that he could give you, his pretty little girl, such pleasure like rapture that you were weeping. Your breath fanning across his face with desperate whimpers from the deep of your throat sent him over the edge. Each intake of air was a job in itself, ragged breathing as you clawed at any of his skin you could grasp.

"Phinks! M' too full- too much-"

Phinks just grunts. Braced himself over you as he suddenly left you empty, just the utmost tip of his long cock inside your gummy walls. A cocky smirk danced across his face and chiseled cheekbones, utterly obsessed with you, twisted feelings in his chest. Your dilated irises, fidgeting and thrashing figure from electricity that corrupted you- made him growl as tears continued to roll down your puffy cheeks. And how as he slammed his hips to yours- to the hilt- deeper- making a cry leave you as a bulge formed in the low plush of your abdomen- made the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. Liked how he could see himself in you- liked how as he pressed down on your tummy you shrieked and cried, begging him to stop as you came, feeling too full, too out of control. Squirt dribbled from your swollen hole as he wiped away at translucent liquid dripping down your face. Blank eyes. All empty on your fucked out face because of him.

He fucked you through your nth orgasm, grunting and gasping as the squelching noises from your dripping, swollen cunt rang through the air. "You're my good girl aren't ya? Such a pretty baby crying while I fuck your tiny cunt. Gonna fill that greedy tight pussy, princess.”

You cried, nodding your head furiously begging him to cum inside you, as if you'd die if he didn't.

"Yeah? Know you like it when I cum inside you- beg me- please- need to hear you." And just like that he fell apart. The side of Phinks only you ever got to see. So demanding, so rough, but just a lovesick fool for your crying form shoved full with his cock.

"Ah Phinks-" you were seeing stars, vision slowly going in and out as intense waves of pleasure took over you as your cunt squeezed the life from your lover's cock, "Love you Phinks—" you were babbling, rambling unable to speak straight, "I need you- inside me- m' my pussy needs you."

"Fuck." He grunted as his climax was raining down on him, "All mine, babe." Phinks saw white as he came, falling down on you as he shoved his face into your neck. His cock was to the hilt, shoved into your womb as you dry sobbed leaving deep nail marks on him. Your stomach expanding as his warm cum swarmed your insides, leaving you fuller than you'd been before. Gasping and hugging him close, legs wrapped around his waist so he couldn't leave you- not like he would. The way he nipped at your skin, sucking and nibbling along your collarbone and lower neck. How he ground his still hard and pulsing cock against your spasming walls that just sucked him in.

His calloused hands soon came into contact with your face as he pushed up, adoringly staring down. He wiped away your loose tears earning him a tiny smile he so loved to see.

"You always take me so well," and your chest soared as he kissed your forehead. You'd done well for him! His good girl!

The tears soon dried completely as you'd find yourself in a warmed lathering bath- Phinks doting on your every move whilst unbeknownst to you, the faint sound of the news in the living room was talking about a specific criminal organization.

"Are you ready to finally meet Uvogin and his girl?"

You nodded ecstatically, "Yes, yes, so excited to meet her, no offense to Uvogin."

"Figured you would be, he won’t care he’s probably only comin’ for the food. Woulda loved to have you meet her a few months ago but her health was bad, Uvo wanted to make sure she was hundred percent before meeting new people. Some disease involving her lungs wasn't paying attention."

"I understand, that's scary." You hummed, kneading dough for its final stretching. Though you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's ability to relay information regarding others, "This needs another 45 minutes to sit and rise some more, then it can go in the oven."

"Which is my job right?"

"Yes don't want to burn myself." You purse your lips, "Feel like something's missing though."

"Like what?" Phinks wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Don't know, maybe an ingredient?" You looked about your organized mess before a lightbulb went off in your head, "Oh, the fruit, can you get the cantaloupe out and cut it into cubes?"

"Yes ma'am." He kissed your head again before going to cut the fruit.

Boy did Phinks make cooking an extensive meal easier (though at first it was substantially harder by his lack of knowledge or experience). He’d handle anything too hot, he was better with knives, and no longer did you have to mix until an arm cramped. You liked the cute overly focused look that'd crease his brows and pursed his lips as he focused on a task you gave him. It warmed your insides at how dutiful he was towards you, how he enjoyed your girly hobbies as he’d call them.

Time went by too fast whenever you cooked, and it felt as if you never left yourself enough of it. You cut it too close for comfort, the food ready a minute before the sound of the doorbell went off. You’re in the middle of bringing dishes to the dining room table as two new voices meet your ears. Not able to stop the growing but, still nervous as you brushed along your pink apron.

“Babe,” Phinks voice called out, “C’mere.”

You obeyed as if on cue, “Hi.” As you walked from the open kitching to where they stood in the foyer, Phinks hugged you to his side.

“Uvo.” Said the largest man you’ve ever laid eyes on with a large grin. And Phinks is stifling laughter as you look Uvo up and down with parted lips, head cocked to the side. Even the girl besides Uvo attempts to hold amusement too.

Uvogin introduced her to you, his fiancé, which had been news to Phinks. And earned him a glare for not knowing his friend got engaged when they recently moved right next door. The audacity of men.

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You said, politely pulling the large man's partner in for a hug. Everyone was small compared to Uvogin you thought, but this woman had an aura to her that pulled you in as if the giant didn't exist. Her smile was so warm and she smelled of fresh rose and pine. You note she’s frail, remembering what Phinks said about her health, and you loosen your arms on her.

“So,” You rub your hands together motioning for people to follow, “People hungry enough to eat?”

“I’m fuckin’ famished.” Uvogin helped his way to where the food sat out at the table; Different vegetables, cantaloupe, roasted lamb and a cinnamon loaf. From the corner of your eye you see his fiance scolding him as he tried to grab a piece of meat, and for a moment you felt a surreal sense of belonging. To see them seeing so content together, you hoped that was how you and Phinks came across, since interactions with others were so limited.

You gave the table a final look as the three of them sat down, needing one last thing you moved to the kitchen. The sound of cell phones going off is easily recognizable as you grab napkins and a serving spoon. Glancing across the island you see Phinks typing away at his phone. A chime went off and then another. You watched as Uvogin and Phinks looked semi-annoyed scowling at the screens, “Huh.” Uvo muttered as he wrapped an arm over the back of his fiance’s chair. “What’s normally on Channel 5?”

“What?” She asked him, sending you an annoyed look that read ‘Men’ as you placed napkins around the circular table.

“Dunno. Y/N could you grab the remote since you’re up?” Phinks asks.

“Of course, one sec, the remote is over there.” You say, padding over to the loveseat on the other side of the room where Phinks was watching something earlier.

Clicking the TV on you find it was already set to Channel 5, immediately fixated on the news, showing pictures of a gruesome crime scene. Turning the volume up, your stomach drops at the banner flashing on the screen in red ‘Phantom Troupe Strikes Again: 35 Dead, 12 Missing.’

“Oh my god,” You say with a gasp taking in the horrid sight, “That’s horrible.”

As you glance to where the other three stand, you immediately notice the discomfort. Uvogin and his fiance are staring dead at Phinks, while Phinks fingers flex at his side unblinking, directed at you.

“What?”

“She doesn’t know?” Uvo’s fiance asked in a hushed voice, you barely hear it.

“Know what?” You move forward, while she stares at you with wide eyes, immediately looking down at her plate.

“Oh- uh,” Phinks stammered as he quickly got up to make his way to you, “Just that news has been all over, she probably assumed you knew. Pretty scary.”

What you can see of her, Uvo’s partner didn’t have the ability to play it off. She seemed as if mentally transported elsewhere as she played with her fingers.

“We’re gonna get going...” Uvogin says abruptly. He shot Phinks a look and it makes you want to scream, feeling as if left out of one big joke.

“Turn that shit off.” Phinks is at your side faster than you’ve ever seen him move. You jumped back in shock, flinching from the dark look on his face. You’re frozen at the sound of the remote shattering against the wall.

It’s then that Uvogin is dragging his girl out with none of the food yet to be touched, but you catch her lips moving your way, you think she’s mouthing- ‘It’ll be fine.’ Not that it comforted you. The front door slammed. And then there were two.

Tension that could be cut with a knife. You inch away from him, gaze flitting from the now black screen of the TV to Phinks. Something tells you his outburst has to do with the news, why he always told you your soft brain couldn’t handle it. That he just wanted to protect you from bad things that’d make you cry.

“Phinks?” He doesn’t respond; fists clenched as he stares downwards. A bulging vein on his forehead tells you this is serious. “Tell me what's going on, why did they seem nervous? Why’d they leave so quickly? Did I do something wrong?”

“Thought I told you not to watch the news.”

“It was on when I turned it on Phinks, you were the last one who used it.”

“Shit.” He had been. He didn’t flip the stupid fucking channel or bother to remember which channel numbers lined up with which station.

“Please be honest, you and Uvo were having a conversation with your eyes! I feel like an idiot being left out of this. Why did she say ‘I didn’t know’ when I brought up the Phantom Troupe? And what you responded with doesn’t add up.”

“You’re gonna hurt your brain thinkin’ so hard babe. Let’s drop it.”

“You broke the remote by throwing it against the wall, Phinks.” You place your hands on your hip, frustration bubbling in your chest. “That was uncalled for especially in front of guests.”

“Fuck.” Phinks breathes heavy into his hands before pressing them against his forehead, “Fuck!”

You step back, swallowing hard. His outburst has your brow lining in sweat, terror pulsing at the back of your mind.

“Phinks?” The watergates opened as fat tears fell down your cheeks, “Y-you’re scaring me.”

You think he’ll comfort, explain it and take your fears away. But he doesn’t.

“Y/N.” His eyes look as if they’re screaming for your forgiveness. Slowly, Phinks tugs off his sweatshirt. Suddenly you felt as if the room increased a hundred degrees, you’re too hot, feeling like you’ll choke from the dense air. Then he strips off his shirt, “You know how I keep this covered, told you it was an embarrassing scar?” You nod. “It’s a tattoo.”

“Tattoo of what?” You whisper.

You were never bothered by the fact he kept a bandage-like piece on his right shoulder blade. You assumed it was so personal that eventually he’d open up. Because you trusted him.

But as his fingers peel it off, you catch sight of black ink.

A black spider with a number 5 inked in the middle stares back.

An incessant ringing blares in your ears. You’d heard of that tattoo, that it signifies the person is a spider, a fearsome thief of the underworld. A member of the Phantom Troupe. An urban legend your mom once told you about so you wouldn’t sneak out with a boy at 15, that you only recently learned was true.

“You’re- when you leave for work… What is it you do again? And don’t say some business- Tell me.” You say between your dry heaves, your sobs as you furiously wipe away tears.

“I’m a member of the Phantom Troupe babe, one of its founding members.”

Your head is spinning, legs wobble as you lose your balance. Phinks hurries to catch you as they give out, placing you on the couch, between your legs. But you push at his head and squirm back to get away. Shying into the couch cushions as you stare at him, eyes red.

“I- Don’t play with me. Please tell me you aren’t in that group! You can’t be.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t touch me.” You spit venom in your words as you rip your wrist from his grasp, holding it to your chest.

“Y/N this doesn’t change the fact I love you, doesn’t change anything here for us. Shouldn’t it prove to you that my vows to protect you are legitimate, that I’m strong enough to do so?”

“That’s your attempt to convince me?” It won’t stop, the downflow of tears and the running snot you wipe at. Your words turn to pathetic blubbering. "You.. kill people?"

Phinks nodded, huffing into his hands. The man is panicking, his chest tight with knots when all he wanted was to pull you into his arms. He considered forcing you down so he can explain, maybe fuck you so you feel good easily compliant. He needs you to give him a second, needs you to stop asking questions.

"Uvogin? Is he a member? Feitan too?”

“Yes.”

Fuck. Your world’s collapsing, you’re certain of it.

“D-Did he kidnap his fiancé too? Did Feitan kidnap his girlfriend as well?"

"Baby it's complicated, and well Feitan hasn't exactly made her his- Shit... Saying it like that sounds bad but-"

"It is bad! I-I forgot? I swore I was here because I realized there wasn't anything for me at home.. I loved you and.. Do you actually love me?" Your eyes welled with tears, sudden realization came back over you. You grieved for past life once, how did you forget that?

"Baby I do love you, you're safe with me, promise. It's me."

"You're a murderer." You emphasized, horrified and unable to push yourself against the wall anymore if you tried, "How many people had their lives ruined because of the Phantom Troupe?"

"I.. don't know. A lot."

Conflicting emotions wash over your fragile mind. The man who crouched a foot away from you looked as if his world was shattering down around him, like he was terrified to lose you. Yet he was a thief, a killer, and you realized he wouldn't let you walk out that door regardless of what you decided.

"You lied to me. I don't know who you are."

"Y/N fuck, it's me, promise nothing about who I am is a lie, only my occupation. I love you, I'd do anything for you." You flinched as he moved to sit in front of you on the edge of the couch, taking your face between his palms even as you flinch, "You're safe with me, I promise."

"Phinks..." You sniffled, "I.." At the end of all things, did that matter? What Phinks did for a living? He'd been nothing but a loving, supportive partner. The whiplash hurts. Your chest felt heavy, your breathing was too heavy as if your air was cut off. You think you’re going to pass out as you reach for him, eyes blinking furiously.

"Baby? Shit." He pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back in soothing circles, "Breathe for me, yeah? In. Out." You follow his orders, "Good girl, see?"

One deep breath after another and you regained your senses, his eyes boring into you.

"I need space tonight." You whimpered.

"Yeah, that's fine, I know you need to think."

You rubbed your arms, "I'm going to lay down to sleep, alone tonight. If you could please clean up the kitchen and table."

"I-" Phinks went to argue, no way in hell would he let you sleep without him while he was home. But he knew he needed you to have time to think, even if it were an illusion or lie because he'd join once you were asleep. Paranoia was heavy in his mind, ever growing as he thought of her without him. Even not knowing what she was thinking was close to setting him over the edge. But he loosened his imaginary grip and nodded, "Of course."

Your home moved by you as if you were a zombie, legs heavy as lead as you closed the door to the master bedroom. Locking it. Then unlocking it.

Sobs choked out. You clamped your hand over your mouth. Your legs gave out, back slid down against the door as your butt met the ground with a huff. Tears flooding once more, you let out a broken wail into your palms as you shoved your face into your flesh. Hugged your knees to your chest as painstaking agony pierced your limbs. You're gasping for air. Begging for a sense of relief. Crying that it hurts so bad.

You could feel Phinks's aura on the other side of the door after fifteen minutes, knowing he was sitting with his back against the wood the same as you. An unknown force had you wanting to shove your fingers under the door to get a touch of him, wanting to already fling the door open and collapse into him. Were you really that pathetic? Already compartmentalizing the fact the man you loved was a killer? When Phinks had told you about his upbringing it'd pulled your heart strings, having to survive with no parents, no money, no home? How uncanny that his hints slowly made sense. Could you... even blame him?

Groaning through your heavy gasps as you couldn't stop weeping, you felt light headed. You sucked in air far too sharp that had you spinning, ready to topple onto your side.

With wobbly legs you force yourself to stand, clumsily making your way over to the king sized bed. Collapsing atop you stare off at the wall, wetness falling down to your eyes, to your mouth, dripping down your neck. Oh it hurts. How your head began to pulse with heavy stabs up against your temple. Lips quivered. You pulled the blankets tight letting your fingers twist and tangle within them, needing anything to ground you.

Two questions spiraled. Would you really face the reality of your situation and that leaving a man like Phinks was smart? Or would you stay because you loved him? It alarmed you how easily you were willing to ignore Phinks was in the Phantom Troupe, that you'd already forgiven him. Forgive him? No, no, it wasn't you he needed to convince it was those he affected... which, deep down, you were glad he'd taken you. Because your kidnapping gave you a beautiful partner and life! Maybe you should tell him that!

So as exhaustion and confusion overtook your trembling form, you were plunged into a restless sleep. One that played the same nightmare on repeat, the cycle of meeting Phinks to the kidnapping, to your life together, and to now. Stuck at a crossroads of swirling doubt manifesting in dark fog that would only come to fruition if you made a choice. Your dream-self, your heart, wanted to be selfish, wanted to head down the path to Phinks no matter what. While your brain told you it'd make you complacent, that it'd be ridiculous to stay with a man like him. That one day maybe you’d become a victim in the crosshairs. Before the morning sun streamed unto you forcing you awake, your dream-self chose a path.

When you opened the bedroom door, stomach fluttering with thousands of butterflies that made you want to puke- to your surprise Phinks fell back, woken and onto his feet in seconds. He'd fallen asleep against the door, respected your decision to sleep alone which tugged on the depths of your heart.

Gazes locked and it was a battle of who'd speak first, though you hoped he'd leave the ball in your court. Phinks looked... scared? His eyes low, heavy bags beneath them. You desperately wanted to brush his messy hair back, to reprimand him not to sleep on hardwood! And you almost reached up but caught yourself, he glanced down to your hand.

"I.." You wonder how bad you look. Wonder how bloodshot your eyes are, how puffy your face is. And if he noticed, "Lets talk?"

Phinks grunted his answer. He wasn't always a man of many words, it took months for him to be more open, so you'd hate for him to shut down on you now.

You followed him downstairs, taking your places on the couch, an awkward space in between how your bodies turned to face the other. Phinks wanted to scoop you up to take all your troubles away, wanted to pepper your face with kisses until you'd cry of laughter. Didn't like how far you felt, a foot feeling like a mile. Even being able to hold your hand would have helped the torrential storm that raged within him; fear so strong he thought he couldn't breathe last night until he passed out in front of the bedroom. Like losing a piece of him that only you could complete.

You'd made up your mind that morning.

Staring at your fingers you tell yourself it would be okay, that you could tell him everything you wanted to get out.

“I have a lot to say.”

“Alright.” His voice sounds strained as he cracks his knuckles, never breaking eye-contact.

“You know, I’m still mad you kidnapped me and won’t let me have contact with anyone I used to know.” Phinks eyes became unreadable, his jaw tense, fingers flexing as if it was the only way to push his anger away. “I told you about my new job opportunity way back when because I wanted to see if you’d want to come, which now I know wouldn't have worked. But also to see if you’d ask me out and give me a reason to stay, I knew after you took me on that garden tour even though you were clearly uncomfortable, that I’d fallen for you. It’s weird after all this time I never told you that.” Seeing the tension that’d built within him start to evaporate, eased your churning stomach. He looks better, suddenly getting back color in his cheeks, chest inhaling a large breath.

You continue, “I think.. I think I had and continue to have a hard time because my heart knows I’ve always loved you, but my brain wants me to keep remembering you technically kidnapped me, and that’s a horrible thing for a partner to do. That even now you’re dangerous to an extent I may never understand since you’re a spider. That you could hurt me one day. I register the anger in your eyes on phone calls, I see how often you flex or crack your fingers to stay sane if I did something you didn’t agree with. There’s cameras in every room. You’d monitored my body for weeks to make sure I wasn't self harming or losing weight. Had to sit in on all my showers. I remember hearing Feitan quip at you that you’re a hot head. I saw Uvogin’s fiance’s fear towards the news.”

Tears prick at your lash line as you attempt to wipe them away, sending Phinks the slightest of smiles you could muster, “And I now know it’s because you're scared something will happen to me because you've seen horrible sides to our world. You are a piece of that horrible side, the Phantom Troupe… You and your friends are considered a giant threat. Anyone who’s capable of the things you all are, have to have something off in the head, I’m sorry to say it like that. So I understand you now more than ever. But you’re still my Phinks. You rub my back at nights, you put things on a high shelf so you can laugh at me as I try to get it only to swoop in. You watch those horrible holiday romance movies because I love them and you’ll never admit you do too.”

“What are you saying?” He asked hoarsely.

“I hope you don't want me to leave, I love you.” You say bashfully, pink dusting your cheeks.

Phinks never planned to let you leave. None of the outcomes in his mind consisted of it. But there you sat with a cute, happy face telling him you want to stay and be with him, thinking he was going to let you go if you asked. So Phinks lets out a sigh of relief knowing he doesn’t need to become the bad guy, he can let you think he’d have given you the autonomy to leave. Because you knew he loved you regardless of everything and you never considered other more darker options. You’re a softy, so innocent and naive, someone who cries at anything, and this further proves to Phinks you need him.

The last two years this very conversation weighed on him. Knowing the day you found out about the Troupe your loving relationship would come to an end, you’d hate him. And then when he’d have to inevitably chain you up or threaten to break your legs to keep you from going anywhere, you’d despise him and yourself. You’d be petrified of him.

But none of that was going to happen and Phinks is thanking whatever God is up there with his entire doomed soul.

“I never want you to leave.” Phinks was across the couch, pulling you into a bruising kiss. His warm lips meshing with your own in a desperate dance as if one would disappear. A whine from the back of your throat made his heart race, made him melt like lava, all consuming that he couldn't stand the emotion that warbled through him. Like he could burst with the emotion of a thousand suns yet it still wouldn’t be enough to describe what you did to him.

Before the kiss gets too intense to the point of no return as you feel your thighs rub together in want, you push at his shoulders. You stroke his cheek as you study his face memorizing each inch shaped from the gods themselves to you.

"I want you to tell me everything, okay. No lies, I want your real childhood, real everything that you changed to leave out the Phantom Troupe. And don’t hide the tattoo anymore."

"I can do that." He nodded fervently, squeezing your waist, “I love you with all I got, okay? Tell me you know that.”

“I do, I know.” You pull him in for a quick kiss, giggling as he attempts to deepen it, “Uh uh big guy. You have a lot of explaining to do before you get any of that.”

He groaned, pressing a wet kiss to your neck, “I don’t know where to start babe.”

“Well..” You think. “What do you… do? That’s not what I mean, so are you good with guns or something?”

“Ahh, I don’t think you understand Nen at all then if you’re askin’ that.”

“What’s Nen?” You cock your head, having zero idea what that three letter word meant. You hadn’t learned of it in school.

“Oh fuck me.” The mood he attempted to create to get your clothes off was ruined, but his genuine amusement makes him laugh, uncaring. He settled himself to get comfortable around your smaller frame, readying himself for a brutally open conversation with you.

And as you two sat on the floor, Phinks relaying his story and the Phantom Troupes, you were glad you chose to stay even as you let him know you weren't happy every time he explained a heist. Because loving someone was the most important, at least you hoped that was enough. Because your heart couldn't fathom losing the blonde man who filled you, cared for you, protected you. You weren't sure if he'd survive losing you, or maybe it was the other way around. But you knew as he explained, that it didn’t matter at the end of the day, you wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not with the type of man he truly was with his work, dread consumed you, but you locked it away in the back of your mind.

MONTHS LATER

This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

One hand was shoved over your mouth, the other held to the wall for dear life. Your heart was in your throat as you listened to the different sets of footsteps outside. They’re talking but it wasn’t loud enough to hear, as much as you strained to listen. God you hoped they’d leave soon, decide this place was abandoned and move to the next.

The day started out like any other, waking up besides Phinks, having to convince him to start the day by luring him into the shower.

He attempted to make your coffee while you made pancakes.

Then Chrollo called and the way his face dropped, you knew something bad had happened. The basis of newfound trust between you two was a fine line, probably would be for awhile. But for once you felt secure as he told you head on, he couldn’t tell you what was happening, because the stress he projected was more than usual.

“Babe, why don’t we go out? There’s a farmer’s market on the other side of town, can find cute shit or something.”

“Really? Let me find something nice to wear!”

Phinks held your hand as if he’d lose you in the crowd at any second. Even as you told him he needed to let up or else you wouldn’t have a hand for him to hold if he kept cutting off circulation. While the sudden outing was pleasant, you’d found a few fresh ingredients for cooking you had to have, Phinks was off. Knowing it had to do with his earlier phone call, you brushed it off.

While you hadn’t been to the market in quite some time, it’d never been this busy. Crowds of people pushed through to see the stall uncaring as they bumped shoulders. The sun beat down and without a cool breeze it was uncomfortably hot, you were itching for reprieve, something cold to drink perhaps.

Your eyes caught sight of an ice cream storefront past the main square, just far enough to where not many people gathered. Perfect. You tugged on Phinks arm, your fingers still locked with his. It takes him a second to notice as he’s too intent on watching the crowd. Eventually he cocks a brow your way, nodding as you motion to follow.

You (foolishly) assumed Phinks had you in his sights, had a hand on your back or something. You lived in a rose colored world with your boyfriend where you never needed to worry, so your hand slipping from him wasn’t of your concern, he’d have a handle on things.

Panic strikes you, you whirled around desperately trying to spot Phinks. But you’re too short stuck in a group and suddenly everything feels like it’s a skyscraper around you, closing in as the air feels too heavy to breathe in.

But then, “Babe.” You jump, a gasp leaving you as you ready yourself to shove someone away. But staring down at you with hands on your shoulders was Phinks, “Fucking hell, scared me.” Pulled hard against his chest, hearing his pounding heartbeat as his comforting scent washes over you- and you’re okay again.

“L-Lost you. Didn’t mean to.” You whimper as you stare at him, fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. His features soften due to your terrified state.

“I know, come on, let's get somewhere with less people.”

This time Phinks is more aware of you than ever before, not taking any chances. Hypervigilant on the tightness of your grip, any time it loosened slightly his tightened. And this was why you needed him, you, so uncaring of dangers walking around with your head in the clouds. It’s as you go to wriggle yourself free to weave a sharp right, he acts.

“You don’t fucking let go of my hand.” He hissed, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other wrapped around your neck, you whimper from how tight his hold is.

“S-Sorry, got distracted, saw something-”

“I don’t care, in public you know the damn rules.” As your bottom lip trembles, Phinks does his best to shove down his sudden raw temper, “Just- what if you get hurt? Or someone takes a liking to ya? Tell me if you wanna go somewhere all of a sudden, I can’t read your mind.” You nod, his gentler tone building back up your mood as he lets go of your frail neck. Your neck that he’d be able to snap faster than you could blink.

Ten minutes later and you were sitting happily at a table with ice cream, Phinks sitting beside you with an arm tucked across the back of the private booth. He watches you with a faint smile, still coming down from his heightened senses when he lost sight and feel of you. And how quick he’d lost control, especially over an innocent situation. He pushed back pieces of hair as they fell from your updo, letting his fingers graze the soft skin of your face down to your neck, then to the collarbone he desperately wanted to mark.

“So,” Phinks said, “Remember when I told you what actually happened to Uvogin’s fiance? How she’d been kidnapped by Hunters while sick?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, spooning strawberry soft-serve into your mouth.

“Guess uh- her name and picture got put on the Hunter database, as a missing person in danger so to speak.” You quirk an eyebrow as the look he gives you tells you not to say the obvious that well… Uvo did kidnap her. “Shal found your name with hers, but they only had an old pic of you, from when you were 14, I guess. This shit complicates things, there was talk of a group, lead by someone who worked with those obnoxious ass Hunters, saying they have possible locations on ya.”

As if on cue your fingers tremble, color drained from your cheeks, forcing you to place your ice cream down with a sudden drop. “Huh?”

“Shal wiped all the chats, the pictures and info. But right now, I don’t think it’s safe.”

“Phinks I don’t understand.” You can hardly hear the former bustle of the shop around you. A numbing high pitched tone starts up and your throat’s suddenly so, so dry.

“That’s what Chrollo called me about this morning.” He waved his hand as if motioning to the prior call. Veins peeking out from his shirt are tense, you realize quickly he’s trying to keep his mood together for your sake, “Wanted us to come out and do something nice before we gotta leave for a few weeks.”

Your appetite- gone. A sour taste wipes the sweet strawberry one you’d been enjoying. “I-I don’t want to leave. I-”

“We’ll be back. Uvo and some others gonna handle it, throw them for some loops. Probably..” He stopped, “Kill them.”

At that point you were certain you were going to throw up on the table then and there. As total honesty was a part of your lives since finding out Phinks was in the Troupe, you’d asked for a gentler version of any details regarding a job. Hearing him speak of taking lives in a nonchalant way, never sat right.

“Where do we have to go?”

“Meeting Shal outside the city, he’ll take us to Base. It ain’t bad, Uvo and the missus go there a lot, stayed there after we rescued her, maybe once before too. Primarily where I lived before you.”

“Okay, do we have time to get some stuff?” You mentally began to race through the things you’d need for an extended time away.

“See, we don’t, so wish I thought of that before we left.”

“I swear to-” Phinks’s poorly timed laughter cut you off, “Glad my soon to be suffering because I won’t have my favorite pajamas is funny.”

The rendezvous with Shalnark turned into a shitshow. That was how you found yourself hiding in a closet in an old apartment complex, the furthest away place you found cover as nen (what Phinks called it, you think at least) brought the area to destruction. You can still hear the storm outside, the thunder boomed shaking the walls, the patter of rain. It came out of nowhere, along with all the people and crashing bricks of the buildings.

People you don’t know were looking for you now. Even if it was a member of the Troupe you hadn’t met before, you were certain they’d say so, while the strange voices only yelled thinly veiled threats. You’re trying so hard to listen in, to gauge where people are, if they’re leaving or staying. Or even if a fakeout would be attempted. Staying put might be your best option, but you’re not fit for these situations! No experience, no self defense skills, just a girl with a racing pulse that might pass out any moment. You were one more crackling thunder away from just giving up.

You wanted Phinks. You needed him. Praying for him to find you and make everything better, whisk you away and pretend this didn’t happen. What would these Hunters do to you? Would they listen if you tried to explain? Phinks said it hadn’t mattered for Uvogin’s girlfriend when she tried, so you assume right then that it wouldn't for you. One plan out the window.

“Y/N!” You flinch each time your name is said by a voice you don’t know. Your stomach lurched. You pressed your hand against your lips harder.

“I checked all these rooms, we should check the other apartments in this complex before we move on.” Another voice said, and you know what he said was a lie. They hadn’t checked in here or else they’d have found you behind boxes in the small closet.

“Fuck this chase is getting annoying. I say we split before running into a Troupe member.”

“Yeah.” A new voice added in sounding further, “Those fuckers are scary strong, the infamous Zoldyck assassins don’t even fuck with them.”

“The big one took out Bates's entire team for his girl. I don’t want to end up like them. Dead, missing basically, no bodies ever found.” Retreating steps made you perk up.

“If Y/N were here she’d probably be running to us for help, she isn’t here.”

You don’t dare move a muscle, but it’s so hard. You’re weak, cramping, emotionally crumbling, and unable to think of a viable plan. Minutes pass by like hours, time they continue to search getting so close but not close enough. A creaking door in the distance then a slam. Grating noises that sound all around. Playing with your mind, making you doubt your senses. And it hurts. Blood pounding in your ears and you don’t know how your stress isn’t enough to give you away to trained Hunters.

An eerie silence. The hairs on the back of your neck standing talls, a chill down your spine.

So you wait.

And wait.

You count up to 60, then back down to 1. Then you do it again. And again. Your body screams at you to relax, you’ve balled up in the same spot for god knows how long now. Time was irrelevant to your plight when you couldn’t see outside your hiding spot. Had no way to tell if the men actually packed up and moved on, the rain was too loud to hear car engines starting to rev off. The silence was beginning to morph as your brain seemed to make noises that kept your heart racing like you couldn’t lose your wits, and you wanted to scream.

Phinks will find you- he had to. He’ll find you. You keep telling yourself that as nausea rises up your throat, you gag against your sweaty palm. Eyes squeezed shut as they moisten. Maybe this was the world punishing you for being selfish and choosing to stay with Phinks after finding out his real occupation six months ago. Karma’s way of saying you deserved to suffer, to understand even a fraction of what your boyfriend’s victims went through.

Your hand dropped from your mouth. You brace your palms against the floor, knees burning from how long they’d had to hold you up. Carefully, slow as could be you changed your position to sit back against the closet wall still behind a cardboard moving box. This is comfier at least, less awkward for your shaking limbs.

Your head lulls. No no no. You suck in a sharp breath. Blood pressure dropped. Adrenaline crashing. Black crept into the crevices of your vision, slowly invading as you try to stay awake, begging yourself to do so. But you can’t give yourself away, not even as you go limp falling to the ground on your side with a thump.

A man sat bound and gagged, blood seeping from his empty eye sockets, fingers bent in unnatural positions. Kneecaps lazily removed, the bones absentmindedly feet away. He was lax because he bled out an hour ago, a thick gash along where his intestines would be.

The next man who watched his coworkers torture, whimpers as he watched a short black haired man pick up a pair of pliers.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked in his soft, yet sinister voice. Feitan’s dark eyes struck terror into the Hunter, who started to flail against the ropes.

“D-Don’t know! No-None of us found her!” He begged, “You gotta believe me!”

“I do.” Feitan shrugged, “Tell me where others are.”

There’s conflict in the Hunter’s eyes, like he weighed his options.

“Won’t say.” He finally said, tone defeated, he practically physically deflates knowing he’d be dying in the abandoned warehouse whether he said locations or not.

Blood seeped into the cement floor, a single bulb illuminating the room as it crackled.

Feitan heard the approaching footsteps when they’d entered the building itself minutes ago. He waits, feeling a familiar aura.

Phinks takes the sharp turn into where Feitan set up camp, distress and unkempt written all over him. The normal cool and collected (until pissed off) spider with a ridiculous pharaoh hat, was struggling. His heartbeat hadn’t settled in hours and he’d chugged most of the coffee Paku showed up with two hours ago.

Their prisoner won’t answer questions. Not even as he screeches, fingernails ripped out one by one. Not as he convulsed from the pain, a disgusting snap of breaking bones, blood spurting on his face.

Phinks can only see red. He wants him dead. Dead. Dead. “Where the fuck is she?” He gripped the man’s cheeks, letting his fingers dig into his jaw, popping then the crack, gargled moans following. “Gone all quiet now, huh?” A maniacal grin pulls at his lips, his teeth brace and over, and over- again- and again- more- his fists pummel against flesh and organs. It’s when the prisoner is nothing more than a lump of mushed flesh does Feitan pull him off.

Feitan smirked, “Got it all out?”

His knuckles burn, but the pain is nothing compared to the excruciating terror that’d made its home inside him. All Phinks can imagine is you tied up being transported between hunters as they mindlessly care for you, while under the pretense of helping. They wouldn’t care for your tears or pleas to let you go. He’s imagining them doing to you what Bates did to Uvo’s girl. How when they rescued her she’d been drugged up for months, bruised, with poorly stitched up gashes, and health deteriorating she couldn’t stand to walk. Phinks saw first hand how Uvo never left her side for the week she’d been unconscious with IV’s sticking in her veins.

The thought of that happening to you makes his head hurt, sharp pulsating behind his forehead. He presses his fingers into his temple, prodding along his eyebrows for any sort of reprieve. Twisting anxiety, dense uncertainty gnawed at him.

“Need to stay calm.” Feitan said, “Almost hear your thoughts.”

Phinks lets out a weighty exhale, shooting his ‘friend’ a glare, “I don’t know if she’s okay. I’m- supposed to protect her. This is fuckin’ ridiculous, these fucking Hunters are imbeciles.” It was getting out of hand, now the second Troupe member to have a partner taken by the same group. To Phinks, this had to be a declaration of war. And as he peers at Feitan who seemed deep in thought, he can tell the torturer felt the same, who had someone of his own too, “Your girl can be next, Feitan.”

“I know. Stop speaking.” Feitan spat, fingers involuntarily twitching.

“We should go find Shal.”

The rain had stopped; was the first thing you noticed as you groggily pushed yourself up. The air inside the abandoned room was sweet with the aftertaste of a storm, yet it made your head spin. Gathering your bearings you stare at the closet door as if it mocked you, dared you to open it.

You weigh your chances here, assuming you’d fallen asleep for one hour or ten, no one found you. And who’d wait that long to lure you out with malicious intent?

Legs wobble as you stand, they feel filled with lead as you approach your exit. Hand shaking as it grabs the handle, the thudding of your mind almost painful. Twisting. Opening. The hinges didn’t creak and you’re now staring at an empty room. The same as when you entered. Shit. The window shows you it’s night now, not mid afternoon anymore. All the heavy dark clouds were gone leaving the dark sky clear and dazzling with stars.

Hugging your arms taut around yourself for warmth, you know what you need to do. You need to be strong and begin to make your way out, see if you can get to a phone or find someone willing to take you into the city. That was risky but you were desperate. And with the amount of nooks and crannies of the dilapidated buildings that once were a vibrant living compound, there was always going to be oversight. Maybe getting outside would help Phinks and the other members find you.

You're somehow at the bargaining stage of grief and you almost laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Trying to stay quiet as a mouse while imagining dozens of scenarios, when you probably needed to be on the lookout. With each hall you walk through, you strain your ears for signs of life. As your weight shifts on floorboards and steps, if they make a sound you're frozen as you wait. But nobody came each time. It’s safe.

The exit to the entire building is finally in sight. You begin a slow descent of the stairs, still doing your best to be diligent.

But it’s the sudden rush of voices, that has you screeching to halt practically holding your breath.

“Per GPS maps, these two complex buildings are all we have left.” That voice. You recognize its higher tone, like it held a cheery imposition even at the large task at hand.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Another familiar voice. Their feet crunched on the gravel outside.

“Nobu said no sign of the cars that peeled out earlier, not sure whether they decided being alive was better or if it's because they have Y/N.”

“Why can’t I just start screaming her name loud as possible? She’s gotta know it’s me.”

“Uvo she’s probably terrified and you’ll manage to burst her eardrums. You know your girl is safe at home while Phinks is losing it right now.”

Uvogin. Shalnark. Faking their voices would be too elaborate of a hoax for anyone.

“He on his way over?”

“Him and Feitan, yes. Others are tracking the rogue vehicles.”

Phinks was on his way. Your chest blossomed in joy, you could weep happy tears as your body felt a million times lighter. Relief coursed through your veins and you went back to going downstairs.

But what you hadn’t realized in all this time was your body struggled from the temperature drop. Your teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. The sundress you’d adorned did nothing to protect you when you laid unconscious in the closet. Your lips tinted purple. Your face flushed from the chill. The tips of your fingers numb. But all you felt was the anxiousness, the hiked pulse, and your fears rather than worry about your physical state.

Shalnark spots you first, your meek trembling form with reddened skin appearing through the doorway like a ghost. He’s on you as he strips his jacket to get it around your shoulders. He’s checking for injuries before you're scooped up into bulking arms of a giant who exuded heat. You can’t speak, only nodding as Shal throws questions your way. The surrounding area is blurry, you squint for any sign of Phinks. But you could barely see Uvo, who was the one carrying you as you looked up.

A commanding presence makes you subconsciously relax.

“Shal what- Y/N- Thank fuck,” Phinks is out of breath, filled with desperation as he raced to you, his heart plummeting when he saw you all small in Uvogin’s arms. Like your whole world is back on its proper axis, you’re trying to reach for him but you only muster up a whine in recognition.

Uvogin hands you to Phinks, who cradles you in his strong hold as they take off to the car sitting idle. His touch sets you aflame as you begin to tear up, babbling nonsense into the crook of his neck, now wet from your tears..

“I got you.” Phinks whispered in your ear as he studied your face whilst his hands felt every inch of you. Needed to feel every inch as reassurance. Your smile is loopy, your eyes so distant as you reach to stroke his cheek. “Safe now, okay?”

The sky moved by fast, but you’re not paying enough attention. Having to will your heavy eyelids to remain open, so you can continue to look at your boyfriend. Taking in his severe face that was littered with worry.

You’re tucked into Phinks’s body as he holds you so tight, murmuring sweet nothings as you try to engage. You try to appreciate his roaming hands as they stroke along your neck, squish your cheeks in comfort; and as a way to remind himself you’re okay, he has you. A piece of you isn’t even hearing his words, nor the conversations taking place amongst Troupe members in the car.

You couldn’t stop shivering even as heat blasts from the vents and as different articles of clothing had been offered up to cover you. Or as Phinks tries to rub your bare arms to generate heat.

“Babe you can sleep, s’okay.” Phinks said, and you realize his eyes are bloodshot. His heart still hammered against you and you physically feel the fear he had and now the relief that now swirled around him.

“Are you- okay?” You ask, concerned for him.

Your question clearly threw him off but he shakes his head, slightly amused you were thinking of him after everything you went through, “I’m good, I got you back. I don’t want to think about what could have happened, thought I was losing my mind trying to find you.”

“I ran, I didn’t know what to do.” You sniffled, shuddering as you remembered the chaos, “Ran up some stairs, found a closet and hid. I was so scared I thought I was going to die and eventually my body gave out. I woke up and it was night.”

His gaze softens, before he leans down to kiss your cool lips, lingering before moving to peck your forehead, “We’re heading to Base now and we’ll get you warmed up.”

You cling to the blonde as if you’d be swept away any second. In and out of sleep for the drive, uncertain of the day or time at this point. It’s with the glint of orange rays that you’re alert to sunrise as the car comes to a halt.

“I can walk.” You try to say to Phinks but he’s having none of it, sweeping you up bridal style before your feet even had a chance to touch the ground after the car door opened.

“Babe stop, no reason for you to exert yourself. You can rely on me.” His lips press to the top of your head, the sound of him inhaling your scent as a comfort makes you shiver.

You weren’t sure what to expect in a Base for the spiders, but a sprawling warehouse that just peaked above the surface level was not it. It has large, empty and tattered looking windows, run down and well- maybe that was to be expected for a group of criminals. Phinks carries you to a path and makes his way down a set of stairs that descend down to a single rusted door.

You’re not sure if you really understood a wink of Nen when Phinks explained it months ago, or when you’d ask him questions. You’re not sure if it's some form of magic as when you two enter, it’s like stepping into a portal. From the outside looking in it would be expected to see continued dilapidation; rotted furniture, mold, rodents, general disarray of buildings left for time to handle. Yet what you see as the entry door opens to a platform with a metal staircase going down, was a perfectly normal space. Decorative pillars and art (surely stolen) haphazardly on the walls, with rugs in peculiar places. A long table for 12 was the grand room centerpiece. And from Phinks’s arms you see multiple doorways that must branch off into other spaces of the hideout, for a second you forget this belonged to criminals as you wonder if he’d let you explore. But that reality goes out the window when Phinks sets you down in a chair and you catch sight of Feitan entering from outside. He’s covered in blood and you’re nauseous at the sight.

You look away, attempting to focus on the tiled floor, counting the squares you can see. Your legs are covered in goosebumps and as you feel along your arms, they are too.

“I’ll be right back.” Phinks pats your head and you want to cry out for him not to walk away from you. Leaving you as a fish out of water in a new place, an intimidating place where his friend who’s covered in blood watches you from the corner. Bookshelves line empty spaces, which most of the shelves are in disarray but present collections look ancient.

You think it’s been five, maybe seven minutes since Phinks left the room, but you’re becoming antsy. Anxiety claws at you as you want him near, want to touch him and see his face to know everything’s okay.

“Hey,” When you look up, the familiar face of Uvogin’s fiance greets you. She stands there looking frail, adorned in jeans and a sweater, but giving you a warm smile.

“Hey, how are you?” You stammer out, the sight of her making you more nervous than calm. She takes a seat across from you at the grand table.

She shook her head, “I should be asking you that. You okay? You’re not hurt are you?”

“I’m not physically, just… scared and now really cold.”

Her eyes went wide, “Oh would you like my cardigan?” But you stop her by holding up your hands before she can touch a button, “If you’re sure.”

You hadn’t seen her since the day you found out about Phinks being in the Phantom Troupe, even though she resided literally next door. You’d slowly learned that while Phinks allowed you the ability to go out, Uvogin did not allow it for her. At least he stopped, though you aren’t sure why. Health?

“I’m sure, thanks.” You want to say it’s because she looks like she’d need the extra body heat, that she shouldn’t look so malnourished.

An awkward silence falls over you and her, only Feitan’s faint shuffling breaking it up. You’re curious, sometimes too much for your own good and there’s suddenly a million questions at the tip of your tongue but you wonder if you should ask. Phinks gives you leeway because you accepted him full-heartedly, you wonder if she despises Uvogin’s work or something along those lines.

“Are you-” Her glower makes your mouth snap shut. And it’s when Feitan tells you two to behave with a cackle as he leaves, does she lean in.

“Why didn’t you run?”

“What?” You ask. Your stomach flutters with something unknown.

“This was the best chance you ever could have had- more than…” She sighs, “Since my health’s not getting any better, I feel more awake than I ever have before about- life..”

You’re confused. Her eyes look glazed over, you chalk her whimsical mood up to her illness, “I don’t fully understand… Sorry.”

“You know Feitan carved his name into a girl's ribcage? Keeps her locked up in his attic. And you know where she’ll probably be in a year? Sitting here with us acting like a good dutiful lover.”

“Stop.” Your mind races as your pulse begins to climb up. And up. Fingers go numb as a tingling spreads along your limbs, “That- I don’t have stockholm syndrome.”

She shrugged, “I might have it, might not. You can’t truly know either.”

“I loved him before he took me.”

“Does he let you have free reign of a phone?” You shake your head for ‘no,’ “What about, can you talk to old family or friends.” You don’t answer. “Cameras in every room? Constantly panicked if he can’t see or hear from you within seconds?”

“Would you… Want a new life away from Uvo?” Whether it was fear or anger that caused you to ask it, the pounding of your heart made you snap her.

“No. I’m content, I don’t know how much longer I have anyways. He’s in denial about it.” She seemed morose at the thought of her death, like she didn’t care, like her current life wasn’t worth fighting for. Just sitting there waving her hand in a simple gesture, “I guess I selfishly, while I’m alive, want to see one of them suffer like they’ve made others suffer. Like if Phinks lost you today.” You squirm at her words, “I know Uvo may not recover when I die, so guess it’ll be karma enough for his actions.”

“Don’t you love him though?”

“Does it matter? I had a tiny crush on him before he took me, the big strong stranger that tried to make me laugh when he tried my creations at the bakery.” She pauses and the quirk of her lips doesn’t slip past you as she recounts a good memory, “But, it doesn’t mean I wanted to be taken away or that it was okay. He killed someone in front of me then re-routed my life. I can look at you right now and say I’m irrevocably in love with Uvo because I am, at least my heart and body completely are. My brain always wants to be around him until it reminds me of who he is. That only started after he rescued me from my second kidnappers, same ones who tried to nab you. It isn’t logical to love someone who does all that yet, I do? Weird psychological stuff but… That’s all I want to say Y/N, don’t forget who these men really are. They’re no better than the Hunters with hero complexes trying to drag us to ‘safety.’ None of it is for our best interest. Because if it were, then both parties have left us the hell alone.”

“Just… Who’s the lesser evil?” You whisper.

“Precisely, and after what I went through with those Hunters, it appears the Phantom Troupe is the better choice, for me at least.”

You agree, cringing at the memories of the way the Hunters talked about you in the abandoned building while you hid. Nothing about them was kind or willing to lay their lives down to protect you. This was an ego boost for them, bragging rights to say they fooled the spiders. That taking you and her were like trophies to boast about.

Uvogin’s fiance suddenly stood up, her chair almost knocking completely back. She brushed her hands off along her jeans. Clearing her throat, she speaks to you one last time-

“Ah, sometimes I say such strange things when I don’t feel well, sorry about that.” She smiles like a flip switched before she heads towards an entryway, you guess it leads to wherever Uvogin is.

You nod, “Of course.” But your eyes exchange something far deeper, more meaningful and you know you’ll keep her words private. An understanding that left you feeling comforted in an odd way. And yet a part of who hates her for dragging you out of your rose colored world. But she was right. Even as a sour taste scratches the back of your throat to admit such a thing.

An unsettling feeling settles itself in your stomach, you think if you have to sit at the table any longer you’ll go mad. Like a ball of twine was slowly unraveling, you want out of the room where you partook in such a strange conversation. And the fact you’re still cold, though your teeth stopped chattering during the car ride.

Technically, Phinks never said to stay put so you aren’t doing anything wrong by trying to find him. Technically. He’d walked down the hall behind you so you figure you’d run into him eventually.

Your legs ache with each step, painful stabs against the bottom of your feet as you begin the trek. It felt like a maze the second you left the main room, the only light present from lamps every few feet flush with the ceiling. ‘Spooky,’ You think to yourself, hugging your arms close.

The first door you pass is shut firmly. No sense of what could be behind it. You linger for a few moments debating whether or not to knock, but the lack of light from underneath deterred you.

Taking a sharp turn, you practically collide face first into what felt like a wall, but when you looked up– Phinks.

“Babe, what’ya doing?” You don’t have time to argue as he’s picking you up, “You shouldn’t be walking around.”

“Wanted to find you.” You pout. Though as you cradle the side of his face, the earlier conversation slowly replays at the back of your mind.

Phinks noticed the slight drop in your face but chalked it up to the long day you’d had, “I was coming to get you.” Nuzzling your face into his collarbone you take a deep breath, letting his touch center you. Being against him in your state, getting a smidge of his body heat had you on fire for him, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as he started walking back the way he came.

Exhaustion nudges its way back unto you, a yawn eliciting to show as much. You want to keep track of the path he takes, a right and then a left- then… You aren’t sure. The halls look the same but he eventually nudges an ajar door open.

“Alright, here we are.”

The room was fairly big but rather plain. As Phinks sets you down on the bed, handing you a change of clothes, you realize- this was his room. Simple furniture scattered about but strewn magazines of things he was interested in forgotten on a coffee table. An alarm clock that matched the one at home that had a layer of dust on the nightstand. Some art, definitely random pieces he probably didn’t care to have.

“This is your room isn’t it?”

“Yep. Needed to clean up, dust coated fucking everything been months since I last stayed.”

“Why..?”

“If I’m ever beaten up after a job-” He explained, “I don’t want you to see that. But with you to go home to, there's no reason to be here. Wasn’t bad for the bachelor life.”

It’s nice to learn something new in that respect, to see something that’s been a piece of his life first hand. Soreness screams through you as Phinks helps you undress to slip on the heavy sweats and hoodie. A mound of blankets pulled over you next, you cuddle happily into the new warmth that spreads over you, almost as if you’d never been in that abandoned closet.

You wait for him as he changes, admiring the way his back muscles flexed, “You’re coming to bed, right?”

“What a dumb question, babe. Need to hold you after this fucking day.”

“I want you to stay by my side.”

His weight sinks into the bed, and he repositions so you can slot yourself against him. God he loved how small, weak you were compared to him. His fragile little girl he needed to treat like glass when all he wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress. Having to hold his urges back for your sake was the right thing to do though. He can’t scare you after the day you’ve had while all he wants to do is relish in your body because the adrenaline high he’s coming down from fucking hurts. So close to losing you. So close to understanding the anger and sadness they put others through when the troupe kills their loved ones. It’s a strange sensation really, to even think about empathizing, but after the day you two have had, he doesn’t care. Just wants to hold you in his chest as your breathing slows. Wants to squeeze the plush of your skin to remind himself you’re his. His. No one else's. Not the Hunters who think they’re the saviors of the Phantom Troupe’s women.

God he wished he could make all your thoughts of everything and everyone else but him go away.

“I love you.” Your tired voice, sleep about to drag you under, makes him melt inside.

“I love you too.” He says back, since he knows he loves you in his own fucked up way. A way you probably wouldn’t understand, would probably be scared of, “I’ll keep you warm tonight, you’re safe.” Right now he knows what you need to hear.

“I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

Good. It’s secured in Phinks’s mind that you never thought to run away from him having had the perfect chance to. Hours he couldn’t find you- you could have gotten back to town and jumped ship in that time. Yet you stayed in your little hiding place hoping for him to save you. You’re just so cute. And he’s lucky to have someone who relies on him so heavily. That made his chest burst with dark possessiveness over you. Not that there’s anyone left to take you from him. Every Hunter who’d been there was now dead, even the ones who left by car, with all that’s left to find the remaining stragglers involved with this effort. If more came out of the woodwork to take you after trying with Uvo’s girl, he’s sure there’ll be more eventually.

He soon drifts off thinking of you in tears, sobbing for him as he splits you apart on his cock. Sobbing that he’s ‘too big’, that you’re ‘too full’, and begging for him to stop- but gods he won’t stop not when you’re broken like that with big red eyes and wet skin from the pleasure turning to pain. And he won’t stop, never does, until you’ve gone dumb in the head drunk off his cock and filled with his come like you need it to breathe. And Phinks knows as his consciousness slips away, that his little daydream will become reality come morning time because he’s not a good man. Because a good man wouldn’t fuck his girl to break her poor little mind, to make her fall apart into tiny pieces so he could be the one to put her back together again. To get her nice and reliant. Especially not after a traumatic event. But you should know by now that he’s not good.

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