#Yandere Hunter X Hunter X Reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ataraxiaspainting · 1 month ago

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Morningstar's Road.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader x Yan Feitan.

Synopsis: Your routine is average, to say the least. But due to Chrollo’s orders, Feitan cannot snatch you up yet – so he simply mirrors your behaviors instead for self-satisfaction. His boss does so too.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, kidnapping, a few suggestive actions, manipulation, some descriptions anxiety/depression for the reader, animal death, and violence/some gore.

Word Count: 4.4k.

*~*~*~*

Feitan is so close to you that he can just about hear your beating heart. He could only see the back of your head, hair loose and surely will be knotted by the morning sun, but he can smell you whenever he is this close.

You always smell so nice, but for some reason, you smell even better – of that floral-scented oil you put on your neck and wrists before you go to bed. Maybe you added extra because it is the weekend.

You are on your right side – the fetal position was always your favorite – and hugging a plush that resembles your childhood cat. This was typical behavior for you; you had cried for days when your older sister called to say he had passed from old age. You weren’t weeping anymore, but you were when you saw the stuffed animal near the window of that dollar store you pass by daily on your way to work. You named it Silky, the same as the real thing, and tuck it in whenever you are in and out of bed. Feitan somewhat wished he could get the same treatment, to be in your arms as you sleep and to feel just a hint of your comforting warmth.

Feitan brought his own blanket.

It isn’t pastel pink like your sheets or your pillowcases or your pajamas and it has holes from moths and years of being stretched as he grew and his fights came to have higher and higher stakes.

If he had recalled correctly the bloodstains from the first time he was stabbed were just under the giant white skull pattern, although since most of the blanket is black it wouldn’t show even in the brightest of lights.

If he had recalled correctly the bloodstains from the first time it was stolen are still there too; on the bottom right corner.

“This type of nen won’t last forever, Fei.”

Feitan turns his neck, his bandana doing little to hide the slight scowl on his face. “I know.”

“Now, now… I never said you did not.” Chrollo responds while giving a small smile, still having the Bandit’s Secret in his right hand while your diary is held in his left. He turns to the next page while Feitan goes back to snuggling up beside you.

If Chrollo had a third arm, he could have the rest of your coffee you didn’t finish and left in your fridge. There is a lipstick stain, the color of that tint you often sport when in your office space. A light taffy color, he muses.

Very fitting.

“I simply wanted you not to fall asleep too slow or too deep, we do have to leave by dawn after all.”

Feitan said no answer. Chrollo is used to that – a little too used to it, maybe, but Feitan has always stood out from fellow people from Meteor City even by the Phantom Troupe’s standards.

“Same oil?” He asks, and on cue, Feitan gives a loud sniffing sound.

“Yes.”

“Cute.”

Around your waist Feitan’s left arm lays, and his right hand holds the blanket tighter than a noose.

If Chrollo were to guess, if Feitan had a third arm he would put two of its fingers on your lips to feel how soft they were. Chrollo had done so before, but his friend hadn’t. He almost chuckles at the irony. The member of the Troupe the most intimate when it comes to matters of anatomy and torture felt that his fingertips having pink on them was a line he could not cross. It’s almost funny in a way. It’s adorable.

“Boss.”

“Hm?”

“For just a while,” Feitan starts. His tone is shy, like a little boy about to ask his classmate crush for their hand in marriage. “Can you read it to me?”

“‘It’?” Chrollo teases slightly, yet he knows what Feitan is talking about.

“The thing in your hand.”

“‘Thing’?”

Feitan huffs a bit and follows it up with a sigh.

“The… diary. Please.”

*~*~*~*

I think I’m getting worse and wondering if I have ever been happy with myself.

There is this girl that sits at the desk across from mine, Lyra is her name, and I don’t hate her by any means.

I just wish I was her, you know? She gets along with everyone in our office, Her hair is always nice. She has only been here since February and has already been promoted to the status it took me three years to get.

Don’t get me wrong, she is incredibly nice and I always have a few laughs with her from time to time. Maybe it’s just my insecurities getting to me.

I wonder if sometimes she has similar thoughts when with other people, or even me if that were possible. I know she has a habit of procrastination and has a record of not handing in her work until a few days or weeks later – those are qualities I don’t have, but maybe she doesn’t feel anything negative about herself.

I’m known as the quiet and sweet girl at my job.

I’ve always had a bone to pick with the title, in a way. All my life that is what I was labeled as. People come to me for advice, and it does make me feel good, but I wish I could be a jokester like Lyra too.

That’s all I have… at least for now, I guess. I’m going to drink tea with honey and go to bed.

May 8th

*~*~*~*

The duo entered through the front door this time. You were gone tonight, as evidenced by the messy pile of umbrellas and house shoes that flooded the entrance, so they could break in without much sneaking around. They know where you headed to – and for now, Chrollo orders Feitan not to slit the man’s throat and gouge out his eyes. Your boyfriend, the only one of your past romantic interests not yet dead. Francis.

He’s quite the simple fellow as Chrollo had noted. Feitan was only focusing on where his organs started and ended when they both saw you with him near midnight months before.

“Not yet.”

Chrollo turns his head and looks down at Feitan as they walk down the hall.

“I know you’re still thinking about it, but your actions may cause our plan to fail.”

No verbal response, though Chrollo notices how Feitan’s steps get slightly louder.

“Fine.”

“Are you saying you’re fine? Or are you still agreeing to not go haywire on the man yet?”

“New one.”

“Hm?”

“New word.” Feitan’s nails retract slightly from your walls as he rolls his eyes. “Hay… wire.”

His hand stops at a photo of your dead cat framed on the wall – he’s a kitten in this one, with his first collar and teenager you hugging him – but your face is cropped out.

He moves the hand away from it for just a few steps. Chrollo finds it polite of him – as polite as Feitan can be with others, anyway.

At the same time, they consider bringing the photos you took off your walls and onto whatever penthouse walls Chrollo has rented out for the next few months or so. It would be cute seeing smiling pictures of you all over, especially since you’ll be switching locations soon enough, and in turn, that expression will soon enough become rare.

But when Chrollo thinks about the idea further, a problem arises. Your photos aren’t focused on you. They’re focused on your friends and family. You are always in the corner or hidden behind someone else. It’s of your own volition. Chrollo is sure of it. Perhaps he can get Shalnark to work his magic on them and ignore the teasing. Feitan would do nothing more than threaten to bash in his teeth, as with friends he is nothing more than a ‘grumpy wet cat’ – those are Shalnark and Uvogin’s own words. Not Chrollo’s.

“No.”

“Hm?”

“I’ll cut ‘em,” Feitan suggests while putting his sharp nails on your bedroom’s door frame.

“How do you intend to do so when there’s near nothing to cut out?” Chrollo asks. Feitan goes silent until he sits on your bed.

It’s still unmade. You must have ignored that chore list of yours again and opted to work extra hours instead.

Chrollo sits down at the small part of your room that is clean; your desk. It’s mainly used for just reading and video games, hence why the only two things not neatly in piles are a book and your computer. Shalnark told them both the password, but neither of them had decided to tread into that territory for multiple reasons. Firstly, neither of them knows a single thing about the internet and simulations. Secondly, Shalnark can just get whatever information they need without them looking inside it themselves anyway. Thirdly, they already know you enjoy wholesome things on there – the opposite of what you’re reading, if the books on your unfinished read pile mean anything to Chrollo – so there is no point in venturing for unneeded facts about you.

You’ll surely tell them yourself one day.

Eventually. In maybe weeks. Months. Years.

Eventually.

It’ll feel like forever and a day if you decide not to talk to either of them. Chrollo and Feitan have agreed without any argument that if you want something, you will ask them. Nicely, of course.

Broken fingers aren’t necessarily something people flaunt.

You wouldn’t brag about being forced onto a lap for hours out on a balcony either.

You’ll eventually tell them. You have to. For your sake.

Eventually. Nothing lasts forever, after all.

“Fei. I promise you that this will be worth the wait.”

Feitan shakes his head, scoffing. “Will it? It would have been easier to just grab her and run.”

“I know,” Chrollo leans in a little, putting his elbows on his thighs. “I know. But you’ll lament it. I would have too if I had agreed with you to go down that route.”

A stare is the response.

It isn’t anger, Chrollo knows that much.

No.

In all the years Chrollo has known Feitan, Feitan has never gone back on his loyalty to him and the Troupe.

But. But.

Chrollo hasn’t ever seen him have such a concurrence when there is still such division in his eyes.

“Are you sad?” He asks.

“No,” Feitan replies, looking at your cat plush instead of his leader of the full moon outside.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

*~*~*~*

Francis lives outside the city in a farmhouse. It’s up a tall hill with no pathway aside from little rectangular stones here and there – and if you ignore the animals and their housing, people would think that the place is deserted.

Feitan and Chrollo make their way to the white picket fence surrounding the chicken coop. They continue to bite down into the soil for worms or leftover grain. All female. Only three were brown; the others were smaller in frame and white.

“I’ve heard his eggs go for high prices in markets,” Chrollo grins a little. “Maybe I’ll raise some chickens of my own in my later years.”

Feitan raises an eyebrow at him.

“I was joking, Fei.” He clarifies.

“Ah.”

Feitan continues to walk with his hands still stuffed into his coat pockets.

Chrollo looks at the farmhouse up at the top of the hillside. The lights are still on, meaning you were most likely still up and about in there.

The rooster resting on top of the mailbox makes eye contact with him for a few moments.

“Don’t scream,” Chrollo murmurs, his words sweet as sugar.

“What?” Feitan asks, not even bothering to turn around.

“I’m talking to the rooster.”

“[First]’s rubbing off on you too much.” His friend rolls his eyes and makes sure not to step on a twig.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed how these animals look at us.”

“They’re animals now. What came before… that doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Maybe to you – but I find it intriguing.”

“Talk later,” Putting his hand on the fence gate that leads to Francis’ garden, Feitan turns his head for just a moment. “Near. Quiet. Look.”

For once, Chrollo is the one that does the nodding.

The gate gives off a little squeak as it is opened. It reminds them of Francis’ prized pet pig Annie – though she is only allowed to be inside.

There are all sorts of vegetables and some fruits back here. Cucumbers, chili peppers, watermelons, corn, tomatoes, peaches, pears. They’re all in pristine condition, and so are the flowers growing in pots near the far-off window sills.

Feitan considers giving you the daisies.

Chrollo considers giving you the marigolds.

They both look at the pig’s head hastily buried under the soil, her ears still popping out and facing the moon. Despite the interment being new, perhaps even being dug today, flies have already spread to the top part of the head and ears. They’re happy you didn’t see her because that would be quite an awful gift from your boyfriend.

Francis is probably happy too, not that they care.

From what Shalnark was able to gather from someone who barely has any social life, Francis moved here from another country about four years ago. He acquired this farm and its land almost immediately afterward.

From a lottery, Shalnark had explained to them. Or an inheritance. Either way, man’s life is going pretty dang good. Too good, actually, because my senses are tingling too much.

Shalnark was right in that regard. Francis may adopt animals from time to time from farmers’ markets, but a majority of them suddenly appear a few days or weeks apart. There were three white chickens he had purchased. Then after a month or so, there were twelve. The three brown ones came all at once one day.

“Where’s Annie?” They hear you ask as you open one of the windows to get some fresh air. “She usually runs to the door to see me…”

Using hatsu to conceal their presence, the pair aren’t detected among the plants.

“She ran away.”

Feitan almost snickers at your boyfriend’s answer, looking down at the flies and corpse rotting beneath his feet. He didn’t mind the smell of rotting flesh – he has almost always enjoyed it since he was in his teenage years.

Chrollo’s feet don’t dig into the soil – he has opted to instead stand on the few pieces of stone that are by the cucumber plants. He makes a note to go to the laundromat after this; even though it has already been the third time in a row this week alone.

If he can convince Feitan, they’ll steal some things from your place to wash up too – Francis has always been touchy, after all.

“That’s weird,” You say worriedly, not looking into the garden anymore but instead inside; to Annie’s little bed huddled next to the window. “Did you leave the gate open?”

“Yes, I’m still rather upset about it but I’m sure she’ll be found soon.”

Soon. Chrollo grins a bit as he closes his eyes, imagining the moment he’ll save you from this man. Soon isn’t enough. No. This…

This is the moment.

This is the day.

This is the time.

“Feitan.”

“Hm?”

Francis will die today. Or tomorrow maybe, Chrollo isn’t completely sure.

“Don’t make it too bloody,” He instructs, getting off the stones and onto the dirty tiles of the garden’s path to the back door. “I’ll focus on her. We’ll leave the others alone.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you, Feitan.”

Feitan looks confused for a moment. If Chrollo were someone who hadn’t grown up beside him, he wouldn’t have noticed the small millisecond of his friend showing emotion. ‘For what?’ He wants to ask.

Chrollo knows it. He knows it so he answers the silent question. “For being more vulnerable with her and I. [First] seems to have rubbed off on you too much too, huh?”

“I don’t like your jokes,” Feitan replies as he stuffs his pockets even more – perhaps to hide his balled-up fists. Whether they were made from the hatred of Francis or the annoyance of everything else is up to interpretation. No one will be getting an answer anyway, even Feitan himself. “You’re very happy lately.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Chrollo’s grin widens just a smidge more. “We’re about to rescue a princess.”

From that look, he knows Feitan agrees with his reasoning and is happy as well.

*~*~*~*

“You’re beautiful, darling.”

You’re laid out on Francis’ bed. It’s rather large for a room this size, but it is comfortable to undress on. You picked a periwinkle blue dress today with buttons on only its top front side. Francis wanted to help but you declined. You don’t decline a lot of things, especially when it comes to him. Francis is annoyed by that but he tries not to let it show. He hides a lot of things from you.

“Thank you.” You sheepishly smile, a light flush on your cheeks as you start to undo your buttons.

“Of course,” You’re his favorite by far. You aren’t stuck up or are with him just for his money. You’re so nice to him. You’re so sweet to him. “I wouldn’t lie to you, honey.”

You aren’t like those whores, those sluts, those fucking cheap little bitches.

“I’ll take it slow since it’s your first time and all.” He promises.

You look up at him.

Your frown is just barely noticeable – but noticeable enough for him to see.

“What’s wrong?” Francis asks.

“Lyra’s still missing… I’m worried.”

“Why?” Francis asks, getting more annoyed the more time you spend covered up. “Why are you so worried about her right now? It’s not the time for that.”

“I don’t know,” You look at the open window, cool air still blowing in along with the slight scent of flowers. “I really don’t, I just… have suddenly gotten a little sad just now.”

You’re shivering a little.

“Ah, you must be cold.” He deflects. Having only his shirt on now, he walks up to the windowsill and looks at the vegetable patch. With both hands, he pulls the window closed. “Better?”

You must not have heard him, because you keep playing with your buttons instead of being fully undressed already.

“Could you…”

Ah. You did hear him, but you seem concerned for something else. That’s fine, as long as you aren’t playing with him and will soon attempt to run away.

“Close the curtain? Please? I’d really… appreciate it.”

“Sure,” Francis replies, his smile returning to his face. “Anything for you. Just get comfortable, pumpkin.”

The wicked thing came all at once before either of you could blink. Shards of glass flew into Francis and into the bedroom walls. Francis screams as his bleeding hands are quick to go to his eyes, his fingers attempting to get the glass shards out of them before his vision is gone for good. In front of you was a stranger in a suit – he pushed you out of the way in a fraction of a second and onto the floor. The bed had shielded you and him.

“Are you alright?”

You’re too shocked for words, peeking from behind the bed to where Francis is still screaming.

In front of him was a man in all black stepping on the back of his head with one of his feet. The soles of his boots seemed lodged into Francis’ scalp, and it takes you a moment to realize why. There were spikes on them; not that you could see them much because of how hidden they seemed to be right now. They’re silver judging by the color of their slight sparkle, but the rusted kind. No. Maybe that’s just the bloodstains.

The feeling in your chest is so horrible like you’re very sick. There’s pressure on your heart. It’s strangling you, despite the taller stranger’s grasp on your shoulders being so pleasant. So tender.

“What are you doing?” You screech. The sound doesn’t make either of the intruders flinch. Francis does instead. “Let go of him!”

The shorter man doesn’t look at you, opting to wedge the spikes of his shoes further into Francis’ brain. You try to get up but the man in the suit pulls you back down, shushing you as you protest and cry. “Don’t… it’ll be over soon. I told him to be gentle, you see.”

“Gentle?” You repeat.

“Yes, my dear.” One of his hands rises from your shoulders to where your eyes are. You struggle some more and the stranger whispers something in your ear. “Behave – I can always tell Feitan to torture him the amount he deserves if I wanted to. I know he wants to.”

You deflate and your eyes are forced shut by his palm. “Please stop… I don’t know what we did, just please-”

“You didn’t do anything,” The other man – Feitan if the taller man had named him right and he wasn’t just some assassin he hired; he said his name so tenderly too like he is an old friend – interrupts you. “He did.”

You feel like you’re about to throw up all the wonderful food you just ate. Chicken pot pie, beef tenderloin, roasted pork belly – it all feels like it is about to release from your throat and onto the wooden planked floor below.

“Oh dear,” Another hand covers your nose and mouth. Instead of blood you now smell cologne – sandalwood and amber. “Can you please hurry up, Fei? She looks like she’s about to collapse.”

*~*~*~*

“It’s a wonderful time to be alive,” Chrollo says as he puts the key into his car’s lock. It’s embedded with little multicolored jewels – he had commissioned some artist to customize it for him a week or so ago while Feitan went into your home on his own. “Or at least a wonderful night. Wouldn’t you say so?”

You’re in the passenger seat. You fell unconscious after Francis’ barely alive body got its fingers broken one by one. Some of his blood got on your skirt, but Chrollo is sure that the laundromat will fix that just like the workers will fix his clothes. As long as he pays them enough or threatens them enough. The latter would be more fun for Feitan but the former would let him be seen as a kind patron. Whichever way the coin flips.

He doesn’t blame you for fainting. If he hadn’t been born in Meteor City and hadn’t been raised in a constant state of fear and a constant battle for power over others, he would most likely do the same.

Feitan is in the back, silent. His hands now have gloves on them and are now brushing through your hair.

“Should we make the pit stop or go straight?” After the second question, the car’s lights turn on.

“Bed.”

The car starts moving into the barren street.

“Alright,” Chrollo chuckles a little at the insistence in Feitan’s tone. “We can get some of [First]’s clothes tomorrow then. She’ll probably sleep throughout the day.”

He doesn’t explain why because they both already know the reason. There is a short chain attached to the main bed. Depending on your behavior early on, it will either lengthen or become briefer.

There are also some syringes in the mirror vanity that Feitan asked him over and over to keep in case of an emergency. He doubts there will be any real threat where they would have to use them.

Feitan doesn’t. Feitan doesn’t doubt many things.

“Blankets too.”

Feitan doesn’t ask for many things either, much less demand them.

“Ah,” Chrollo makes the left turn as his fingers tap on the steering wheel. It’s a song you enjoy listening to on your avenue home. He knows you aren’t listening to it but that doesn’t matter right now. He’ll continue to do so until your mind associates the tune with small controlled adventures to and fro and not you having a life of your own. “All of them?”

“Yes. Please.”

“You don’t say that word very often,” He teases, looking at the flat glass mirror overhead.

“Hmph.”

Putting his hand on your thigh, Chrollo continues to drive while still glancing upward now and then.

*~*~*~*

Your heartbeat has calmed down. Feitan is now able to look at your face as you sleep.

You look at peace now. When he had placed you on the bed, your eyebrows furrowed for a moment – perhaps your subconscious being afraid – or disgusted – by him.

The flowery scent of your perfume vanished long ago and has been replaced by a stinging one. Feitan doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind a lot of things when it comes to you.

Unlike the bodies of those who have died by his hands, Feitan places the white blanket on top of you gently like you would shatter if he was just a tad bit rougher.

Well… Body bags don’t really count as blankets, do they? They are meant to be ripped open and stuffed full of parts no wandering soul hopes to find.

Chrollo decides to break the silence. “After she adjusts a little, we’ll leave. Or you can stay if you want. I can carry her things on my own.”

Feitan turns to look at him.

“Pictures.”

Chrollo sighs. “Alright. But we’ll get Shal to edit them. No cutting.”

“...Tch. Fine. Silky too.” A thumb is pressed against your lips. After it is lifted, there is a light pink that covers its print.

“It’s a pretty color, isn’t it?” Chrollo muses, hanging his suit jacket on the edge of his sofa as he holds his book. “I’ll try to get the same shade for her when she runs out of it. Though I suspect it will be a while before then, huh?”

“It’s fine,” Feitan states, rubbing his thumb against your lips more. “She will always be pretty to me.”

“Never took you for the romantic type, Fei.”

“Hmph.”

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magi-the-writer · 6 months ago

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| How would they react catching you in the act of wearing their clothes? |

: HUNTER X HUNTER EDITION :

: PART ONE :

: KURAPIKA :

I'd defiantly think that Kurapika would feel a mix of emotions as he'd gawk. Not in a perverted kind of way like some yandere's, but he'd certainly stare.

Mostly from shock.

Committing the sight of you to memory, The Kurta would be a little surprise, fuzzy inside and... well sadden at the sight.

If you meekly apologies and try to swiftly remove the freshly clean linin. Kurapika will stop you; not physically, but gently using his words as he holds his hand up from the door.

"(YN)... it's okay, you don't have to take it off... you honestly look lovely in it.... I-It fits you well..."

Kurapika won't be flustered like a few here, but his heart won't swell up with adoration, at least at first...

I like to think Kurapika would feel somewhat somber at the sight. Even if just for a moment after the shock has died down.

Just seeing you adorn in his clans garments makes him feel sort of forlorn, mostly because it reminds him of what was robbed from him.

His family and that they'll never get to see the woman he's fallen deeply in love with...

But after that initial feeling, Kurapika will feel warm and fuzzy. Knowing that they may not live to see this wonderful sight, but your future children will get to see this sight everyday.

And what's more? They will also be dressed in the traditional garb!

Slowly, the Kurta strolled into the room. Leaving the door ajar in his astonishment, Kurapika approached.

His grey eyes flickering up and down (YN)'s form. Taking in the way his old tabard sat loosely upon the (HC)-ett's shoulders.

He gently took the woman's soft hands into his.

Thumb caressing her knuckles softly with his barely calloused ones. His thin lips were pulled into a melancholy smile before it melted. Blooming into an adoring grin, he brought (YN)'s hand to his cheek. Leaning into her touch; it was so warm, comforting as it always felt like home.

His once grey eyes had ignited, burning that cursed sea of crimson that caused much misery. He was too busy drowning within his own thoughts of what the future will hold.

Unaware of how (YN)'s dimmed (EC) eyes stared longingly out to the parted door. Wishing nothing more than to flee the wounded male, but never holding the courage to shatter his already fractured heart.

: MACHI KOMACINE :

Machi wouldn't really react much, at least I believe she wouldn't.

Like, she wouldn't gasp or freeze up. Nor is she one to pounce on you the moment you realise that she is there. At most, Machi would flutter her lashes at the sight of you.

A little stunned at this unexpected event that was unfolding before her. However, Machi is not one of the few that would be all flustered or filled with adoration.

If anything, I believe she'd just watch for a moment. Observing as you struggle to tie the Obi around yourself. Clearly trying to copy the execution she'd do when getting ready.

And after that, Machi probably would call out to you with a mute tone.

"Just what are you doing?"

"I told you not to go through my things."

But in my personal visage of Machi, I'd say she'd feel a little annoyed that you went through her clothes.

Partly because you made a mess in your wake.

But because she doesn't like sharing her things.

Even if it's with someone she regards as her partner, Machi still feels as if it's not just a violation of her privacy. But also because she worries about her belongings being taken.

Or you finding the spare key's to the locks that keeps the front door sealed.

Even if it's a ridiculous notion to worry about. It still stresses her out.

But, after you apologies, Machi will feel kind of bad for telling you off. Especially if you look at her with your watery (EC) eyes. And how you'd clutch her obi tightly within your hands. Cradling the fabric close to your chest.

Unknitting her brows, Machi forced herself to relax.

You didn't mean any offence, if anything this is a sign that you're starting to get use to her. Her presence and excepting her--her as your lover, her as you're girlfriend...

But still, it's a little irritating that you went through her stuff without permission.

With a sigh, Machi approached. Snatching the Obi from your hands, the thief froze at how you flinch.

Peering up at your eyes, her breath hitched at how your pretty (EC) hues bubbled, water lining the edge of your lashes.

She looked off to the side, clicking her tongue in frustration. A small pout formed on her slim mouth.

Planting her dainty hands upon your arms, she twirled you around as she swiftly slipped the Obi around your waist.

"Stay still, I'll fasten the Obi."

: SHALLNARK :

Oh boy, this deadly, golden retriever serial killer is exactly like a puppy.

Any sight of you has his imaginary tail wagging with a purpose to fly.

Floppy ears perking up and dribbling drool in excitement. Panting at the enthralling sight of you.

I like to believe that this isn't the first time Shallnark has seen you in his clothes. And to put it bluntly, it will not be the last.

Though, to make it a point. Shallnark has never seen you do it in person.

This yandere is well aware that you go through his things all the time.

The clothes he's left coincidently left at your place.

I like to think Shallnark see's this as some sort of game. That leaves him as the winner.

He finds it adorable that you pick up his clothes. Looking them over; already use to this man's 'forgetful' nature.

He gets really, really excided when you slip on his sleeveless vests and sniffing his used jumpers. Trying on his clothes when you think you're alone.

'She's sleeping in my pants--ah, she looks so cute all curled up... I can't wait to get it back...'

He will never tell you that he knows about your habit. He doesn't want to spoil this little game... just yet.

And when he get's home, he's pretty much all over you. Trapping you into a hug that can last for an hour or more. And if you ask why, Shallnark will just use the classic excuse he always spills.

The cutesy chime of his phone sounded out loud in the quiet of the abandoned mansion.

The three that were sat around Shallnark paused. All eyes on the blond as the noise had caught Shallnark by surprise.

'Home already?' The blond mused, but none-the-less, the green-eyed adult settled his cards to the floor.

Abandoning them as he flicked his gaze. Landing onto the closest person that wasn't playing.

"Hey, can you take over--I have to take this." Standing up, he quickly pulled out his phone from his pocket.

Not really waiting for their reply as one of the players groaned. Verbalising their completes--but Shallnark wasn't listening.

All of them were well aware what that annoying tone meant.

The devil shaped device vibrated as Shallnark's gaze was glued to the screen. He retreated to somewhere privet, away from the others as his hands slightly trembled.

With a pounding heart and a fluttering warmth in his chest that left him feeling giddy.

A love-sick grin settled onto his face--pulling into an uncomfortable degree, the shine within his eyes would be disturbing to the average person.

He watched as you yet again discovered his unkept jacket that was thrown halfway on your bed.

He could really guess what you're thinking, and it only sent him higher to the moon as he watch--eating up your movements as you brought it to your nose.

He caressed the edge of the screen adoringly.

: PAKUNODA :

She'll melt if she saw you wearing something, anything of hers.

All flushed in the face, butterflies in her tummy and a desire to coddle you.

And I mean it, she'll become putty if you are wearing her shoes, rolling up her stocking over your knee, pulling her top down your head, flashing off her pants in the mirror, twirling in her skirt, smoothing out her dress or pressing your lips together after applying her lipstick.

It's as simple as that.

She'll be positively glowing at the sight.

Her stoic face would morph into a loving smile and her cheeks will be dusted in a light pink. Her attention fully on you.

Pokunoda will be on cloud nine at the magnificent sight.

Even if you freeze up, covering yourself and trying to come up with excuses. Quickly trying to stuff the clothes back into the draws as neatly as you could.

She wouldn't care that you went through her stuff like Machi, or the few others.

She always carries around the little receiver that tracts your location.

This is all but a sign--a positive one that you are finally staring to get comfortable. Relaxed if you're taking out her things when she's not around.

"You look so beautiful."

She'll softly say; and she fucking means it.

Compliments will be flowing off her tongue; it'll be an endless onslaught with no seeming end.

Pokunoda is just a bottomless pit of adoration, love and devotion.

"Baby," Pokunoda called in a breathless, sultry voice. Her painted lips curled into an adoring smile. Her eyes were hooded as her caramel brown hues rolled.

Tracing over (YN)'s form, taking in how the clothes (YN) had slung on themselves sat upon her lover.

She approached, her bare feet tapped silently against the creaky wooden floors. Her slim fingers dragging along (YN)'s smooth skin.

Feeling the goose-bumps that littered their (ST) flesh. Pokunoda stalked behind the (EC) eyed beauty.

Her lanky arms coiled around (YN)'s waist. Pulling them flush against her heavy chest that pressed against their back.

The dangerous woman (YN) had come to live with laid her chin upon (YN)'s (HC) hair.

"You're so gorgeous..." Pokunoda spoke, her words filled with love. Her brown eyes peering to the glass, gaze locked upon the relection of (YN)'s eyes.

She pressed her weight onto (YN). Leaning onto them as she sighed.

"Absolutely perfect."

: CHROLLO LUCILFER :

Ah... Chrollo is a bit difficult for me seeing as he can pretty much go anyway.

But in my humble opiuon, Chrollo seems like the type to pause and watch quietly from the side.

I don't think he'd just walk in, approach you and start whispering sweet nothings into your ear like Pokunoda.

Nor will he just kind of stand there, unsure of what to make of this and what to do like the few others.

Rather, I think Chrollo would lean against the doorframe, or at the most walk inside the room, but sit on the edge of the bed. Or press his back onto a wall in plain sight.

Really, I like to think Chollo will wait until you turn around and find him. Or flick your eyes to the background reflected on the mirror and spot him there.

Though, how he'd feel towards catching you... Personally, I believe he'd find it humorous and also endearing and a bit arousing.

Especially if you're messing around in his coat.

By that, I mean that you're impersonating him, or just playing with it.

Chrollo isn't the type to be annoyed like a few would be, or angry that you went through his things like Machi is.

Nor is he worried like most of these yandere's that you'd somehow find the keys, or escape from him... because there is no place in this world you could go without him finding you.

Truly, I like to think Chrollo really enjoys seeing this side of you.

Seeing you enjoy yourself by poking harmless fun at him.

Chrollo especially gets a twisted sense of arousal, catching you in something he wears when committing various atrocities that violates the law.

'God, the things I will do to you... just wait my dear; you will be begging for me soon.'

It has his blood rushing down low and stirring what could be concised 'the beast' within him. And it truly doesn't help that Chrollo is sexual frustrated as you won't let him touch you...

This sight--just geneually seeing you like this, It get's his head all clouded as he is swimming while his throat goes all taught.

Sinking into the chair that was directly behind (YN). Chrollo rested his elbows onto his knees, slouching in the chair as his grey eyes stared dead ahead.

Locked upon his darlings swaying figure; observing every movement they made from the spot they stood before the mirror.

From swaying on one foot to another, opening their arms and flapping them. Bellowing laughter at how the sleeves flopped.

'God, your laughter is so enchanting...' Chrollo sighed, he could listen to it all day. Maybe he could capture it in a record and play it on repeat?

His carnal gaze ate up the curves and dips that his coat hid. Only to be reveiled everytime (YN) wrapped the thing tightly around themself.

Chrollo couldn't help but gulp at how his coat slipped from their shoulders. Laying trapped by their bent elbows.

The way (YN)'s voice turned slightly pompous as they brought their cheap imitation of himself.

An amused smile twinged upon Chrollo's lips as suddenly, (YN) froze up. Like an inset under the intense gaze of a preditor. Their voice fell silent.

"Hm? My darling, what's wrong? Don't let me stop you; continue what you were doing... Just pretend I am not even here."

: NOBUNAGA HAZAMA :

Nobunaga is a bit of a weird dude to write, seeing as the consciences for his character on tumblr is a delusional, infantising yandere.

However, I'll give him a shot.

Personally, I like to believe that after Nobunaga has opened the front door and discovered you lounging on the couch. Wearing only his grey, long sleeved tee.

Both of you staring at one another as a beat of silence rung within the room.

Without a doubt in my mind, Nobunaga's head would be empty--he couldn't think as the thief would just continue to stare.

But, once the surprise had simmered away and he's finally realised that he's caught you.

I like to think that Nobunaga will most likely feeling a mix of paranoia, adoration and irritation.

Truly, I believe Nobunaga is one of the yandere's that'll pretty much over thinks everything you do.

He can't help it, he is constantly pluaged with intrusive thoughts day in and out. From you trying to leave, to others trying to take you away, to you trying to trick him in order to escape.

"What are you doing, why are you in my shirt?"

Nobunaga will have a thousand questions lined up for you from the jump.

Pretty much interrogating you without trying to seem like he is.

Locking the door behind him and coming over. Sitting insufferably close on the couch. Framing his barrage of questions as usual, every day questions about a partners time alone.

Even when you explain as calmly as you could. Answering all his quarries diligently, and assuring him that it's not some ploy.

It's still not enough.

Though, Nobunaga can't help but eat up the way you wear his shirt and only his shirt.

It pretty much has Nobunaga feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. But also hot and bothered.

It's hard for Nobunaga to contain it--these raging feelings that bash heads constantly. The thief desired nothing more than to suffocate you in his love, fighting the urge to drown you in hugs and kisses, to burn his touch on your skin and take in your smell.

But, that little voice in his head always whispers.

What if you tried to use that against him?

So, Nobunaga refrains. he dosn't want to scare you with his overwhelming desires.

And that irritates him beyond belief.

The fact that he can't just admire you in his shirt. Accept the fact that you are just wearing something of his just because. However, he can't. His mind ruins everything.

"For the last time, I was just asking some questions." Nobugana stated, his arm was propped across the bathroom door as his forehead was pressed into his arm.

"Now I can't ask you snything?" His long fingers clutched onto the door handle tightly. Struggling to keep his impulses at bay.

"Just... stop being so--so... (YN), come out so we can talk about this." Nobunaga continued to speak, pausing for a second, only to change the words he was going to say swiftly. Knowing that what he was about to utter would have made this a hole lot harder.

Nobunaga wanted to tame the flame, not stroke it.

But, the thief was met with a sputter of irrupted sounds from behind the bathroom door before it became silent once again.

'Just that the hell is she doing in there?' gulping, Nobunaga's jaw tightened. Clenching tightly as he took a breath in.

'Is she trying to leave; no, the window is too small... shit--what if she can squeeze herself through it though?' His breath stuttered at the thought.

"Come on, open the door." Rattling the nob, he didn't dare turn it. The was no lock to keep him out. Though, it really wouldn't himder him if there was one.

Nobunaga continued.

"Is it because I kept asking why you're in my shirt? I didn't mean to upset you." Nobunaga's voice was forcefully smooth out. Trying to sound calm and collected. Even though his mind raced with paranoid ramblings.

"I just wanted to know why you decided to put on one of my shirts. Come on (YN), please let me in."

#Yandere #X reader #Yandere X reader #hunter x hunter #yandere hunter x hunter #Yandere Hunter X Hunter X Reader #Yandere Kurapika #Yandere Kurapika X Reader #Yandere Machi #Yandere Machi X Reader #Yandere Shalnark #Yandere Shalnark X reader #Yandere Pokunoda #Yandere Pokunoda X reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #Yandere Chrollo Lucilfer #Yandere Nobunaga #Yandere Nobunaga X reader

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novasdarling · 1 year ago

Note

Hii🌹can i ask "It’s so dangerous out there. Can’t you see that?"

with yandere Chrollo please? Thanks🌹

HEHEHEHE this motherfucker would. He's delusional in the scheme of him being like "Yeah my darling is better than me than anywhere else." but also he knows it's just a lie he makes so he doesn't feel too ad when you cry about being with him

Dangerous Out There

TW: Kidnapping, Yandere Behaviour, Mentions of death, Mentions of punishment

The walls were plain and cold. Made of old cement bricks, leaving little room for any warmth or comfort. Any feelings sparking joy or tenderness were missing. Cold, bland, cruel. This jail cell represented the jailkeeper well. A void of happiness and delight was exactly what Chrollo was. Just this blackhole that took and took, destroying everything it touched and devoured.

However, no amount of sadness or begging changed his mind. Nothing let him declaw himself from you. No matter how much you begged these last few weeks, he refused to let go. Rather it seemed like your tears and pleas just made him dig deeper. Made him pull you closer to him, made him add more locks to the doors and windows. Like the more you begged and craved for freedom, the more he held onto you. The more he denied it. The more he felt like he needed to keep you locked away, keep you hidden. But you couldn't help the hope that pooled inside you. Hoping your begging would chip away at him. Make any sort of difference, cause him to feel any kind of remorse and let you go. A hope you would always hold onto.

Chrollo had made his way into the living room. Standing in the doorway, observing from behind as you watched one of the few movies he had provided when he first took you. You could recite it line by line.

"I know you're there."

"Your senses are getting better. Before you wouldn't have noticed me until you could see me."

Chrollo made his way forward, kneeling in front of you. Placing himself between your legs. It made your skin itch. You didn't give him an answer, even as he waited there. Starring up at you. You ignored him. Starring at the dumb movie in front of you. His hands squeezed your thighs.

"Most people say thank you after a compliment."

"Most people don't kidnap."

Chrollo laughed. Finding your response humorous. He always found your rebuttal funny and pleasant. Making it clear he enjoyed the bit of resistance you had. The wit that came with it. Your snappy remarks. It was fun for him, as long as you never went too far.

"Touché." Chrollo rubbed his knuckles over your cheek.

"Don't touch me."

Flinching away, you pushed him. Trying to create some distance from him. Trying to get the man you hated as far away as possible. He tried again, lifting his knuckles up to caress you, but you moved again. Denying him what he wanted twice.

"Enough."

He grabbed your arms. Trying to keep you still. Keeping himself between your legs and you caged.

"Let me go."

Chrollo held on. Dismissing your words as he wrestled you still.

"I want to go home."

Tears were forming in your eyes. You hated this, hated this man. Despised everything about all of this. How the hell did a charming stranger you bumped into one day turn into the man who was holding you captive? A man that killed and hurt people to get you. A man who had no boundaries.

"Let me go. I just want to go back. P-please. I won't tell anyone. I-I promise. I want to-"

"Stop it. Stop it now."

"Go to hell."

You lashed and kicked at him. Trying to get him away. Trying to make him let go. To understand just how much you hated him. How much you wanted him dead. That this wasn't home. That he wasn't what you wanted.

"I said stop it. Listen to me." Chrollo was raising his voice at you. Not yelling, but still enough to try to demand you listen to him. "Listen to me, just listen sweetheart." One hand now held both of your arms as the other made its way to hold your face still. Forcing you to look at him. "I'm trying to help you, my dear. Trying to keep you safe. It’s so dangerous out there. Can’t you see that? Can't you see understand?"

He sounded angry yet, worried. It was a lesson he was trying to push into your mind. Trying to teach you with him was better than elsewhere. Yet, even as his words sounded sincere. You couldn't help, but laugh at him. Laugh at his words. Dangerous? The danger out there? He was fucking deranged. Worse than you thought.

"Whatever is out there, sure as hell can't be worse than being here with you."

Leaning in, close to his face so he could hear your words. Understand what you were saying. Understanding you meant it. That you would rather be out there with whatever he was worried about than with the monster that was pretending to be your saviour.

The look on Chrollo's face had changed. Like he was hurt and angry. Disappointed by your words. You knew that look, you had hurt his little fantasy. Ruined the image of him being your little hero. The look that meant your behaviour needed to be "corrected". That your wit and back talk had crossed the line.

"Seems like you need some reminding why you're here."

"What, another couple of days locked in the closet? I'll take that if it means being away from you." You spat in his face with the last sentence. Showing him you were genuine.

"See, I was thinking something different." Chrollo grabbed your upper arm. Pulling you up and making you follow him. "If you think I'm such a monster, perhaps I should leave you alone with a colleague of mine. Someone who doesn't care about your safety. Someone who doesn't love you like I do. Remember Feitan?"

You had made the worse mistake since he had taken you. Not only had you been resistant to him, but you had made him the enemy. Not just in the scheme of kidnapping, but in the idea of being with him. You told him how you saw him. Now he was going to correct it. Make you see what is worse than him when there is no love to give.

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sk3tch404 · 2 years ago

Text

The pookies are here!!! Omg Nobunaga :3

My hxh fixation is slowly coming back to me 😨

If you saw the old caption no you didn't

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere nobunaga #yandere chrollo #yandere phinks #yandere fetain #yandere hxh x reader #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #yandere phantom troupe #yandere art #yandere drawing #art #drawing #my doodle baboodles

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undermine-the-instinct · 1 year ago

Text

A million Bucks

Chrollo x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You and Chrollo are both dorks waiting for any chance to info dump. Also. Chrollo gives you a million dollars. Literally, it's in the title.

thank @ddarker-dreams for their latest Chrollo concept amongst others inspiring me.

“Come! On! Enough exposition about the flowers, we’re going to miss it!” Watching your boyfriend go off on color and symbolism about each flower patch you passed in the botanical garden had been cute; You imagined him to have studied up on this ever since you expressed a desire to go. It was adorable, but if he kept talking like this the both of you were going to miss the sunset, and that was something you did not want to miss.

He lets you drag him by the arm, and in your huffy mood, you can just sense the amused little smile he wears, and you pull him along faster along the path.

“We still have around fifteen minutes before the sun sets, dear.”

“So? We can't just go when the sun is about to set–it's a gradual thing, watching the sky change color and such…Just trust me.” You pat his hand and he chuckles.

The hill is a perfect height, and you happily plop yourself down when you reach it, sighing in bliss.

“And now we wait.” There are already couples of all sorts sitting in the grass around you, and Chrollo immediately takes the spot next to you, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

“So this is what you wanted to see.”

“Yes, isn’t it pretty? It’l be even prettier in a few moments.”

“Hm,” He puts a hand to his chin and you know he's about to ask one of his questions.

“Tell me, common folk tend to romanticize watching the sunset, but if removed from their conventional daily schedules, would a person be able to tell the difference between sunrise and a sunset?”

“I think it’s pretty easy to tell though? Daybreak is softer, pinks and blues and lavenders and the like. Though the same colors could be found here too…Maybe because it's more tranquil? Everyone is still mostly asleep during the daybreak so you can hear the birds and the like.”

“Yet I can hear the birds now as well. And, excluding telling factors such as sound or general aura, could you truly tell the difference?”

You shrug.

“I'm not sure? If you plopped a random person on a hill such as this, but with no accompanying factors of time– like the street lamps turning on, or the clock or business folk walking home— how would they know?”

Now he’s got you hooked, time to unload some of the random trivial knowledge you have stored in your brain. You tilt your head in thought and carry on.

“The sunset often has a more yellow tone though? Sunlight is composed of a multicolored spectrum, just like a rainbow. It passes through the atmosphere, which is a mix of gaseous molecules like oxygen and nitrogen and water vapor, at a slant as the sun drops towards the horizon. The atmosphere is thicker during this time since during the day, general activity and the sun’s beams cause molecules to swell and expand, so the sun’s light rays have a harder time traveling. The short blue and violet waves have a harder time traveling, even the yellow and orange ones, which is why more densely packed and thus polluted areas usually have red sunsets. We’re lucky today to see such a bright orange sunset, but I guess that’s just a testament to how clean the city is. I knew I voted right.”

You laugh under your nose, but soon a question pops in your mind.

“On another note though… these names that we give to these different times; Daybreak, dawn, dusk, twilight, noon, day and night…for a person who doesn’t know such things how would they apply them? Couldn’t daybreak also refer to the sunset, or to twilight, since that's when the day ‘breaks’ into night? Afternoon is pretty straightforward, but what is the concept of noon to someone who's never experienced it before? I mean, everyone has experienced noon but–”

You look up, and the light is so bright and orange for a moment you could’ve sworn you saw your lover covering a lovesick smile. He quickly transitions to wiping his mouth, and you’re left stupefied if that really happened. There is still the slightest red hue on his ears, and a glimmer in his eye, but that could just be the sunlight.

“Well that's getting into the topic of linguistics, and the pattern we apply to languages for the patterns we apply to our general lives. It varies greatly among language and culture, different regions and dialects. There's certain parallels though to be found. Like how in many languages, like Spanish, day is referred to with the masculine, in this case ‘Buenos’ and night as the feminine ‘Buenas’. Apollo and Artemis, Lugus and Rhiannon, Inti and Mama Quilla, Huītzilōpōchtli and Mētztli, etcetera.”

“Oh, but that's getting into gender and its role in religion. And what about cultures that are the opposite? Like Ameratsu and Tsukuyomi-no-mikoto? Sol and Máni? And at this point, if we’re speaking about an established and organized religion then that means that such patterns have already been set and defined, and our original question has already been answered by our hypothetical person or peoples.” You grin and lean in closer to him. His hand creeps along your thigh but you let it.

“Removing all factors, How could one tell the difference between a sunrise and a sunset? They’d have to rely on intuition, with the absence of context clues. Maybe they’d be able to tell, since humans are mostly Diurnal? What do you think?”

He just stares at you, drenched in the sun’s rays, and gosh he’s really freaking pretty. Modeling contract when?

But he just keeps staring, and now you notice the way his pupils are dilated, the way he's leaning in.

“Chrollo?”

“I think,” he licks his lips before he speaks. “That you’re going to miss your sunset if you keep on.” You’re already flailing a little before he finishes his sentence, and Chrollo can't help the expression on his face as you eagerly lift your head to the sparse clouds up above.

“As riveting your conversation is though.”

“Oh shush you, we almost missed it!”

True, the skies edges were being beaten into blooming shades of indigo and plum, slipping into a golden orange and bleeding red at its sinking core. It was nothing he hadn't already seen before.

But you were acting like it was your first time; Your widened eyes glowed in the reflection of the sun, painting you in golden armour. It painted your hands, gilded your hair, lay heavy over your eyelids, and slick across your mouth like honey, opened slightly in awe. It seemed to almost pool on your tongue, and he so wanted a taste.

“Why are you staring at me?” You say, not keen to pull your eyes away. More's the pity. If you turned your head you would catch a glimpse of a man so besotted, drowning willingly in a love he never once thought he’d ever be able to experience.

“I seem to find you more captivating dearest.”

Your brow pinches, adorably, but you scoff a laugh.

“Don’t be silly, you see me almost every day. You’ve seen my face a hundred times.”

“And I've seen the sunset a thousand more. So why would I choose to look at a dying star when I can stare at you?”

The sun is almost gone, but the red hue on your face doesn’t fade, and something in Chrollo’s chest warms; purrs and curls, like a snake.

He inches forward while you huff.

“Mister Casanova over here trying to be smooth…Just what are you thinking?”

It might be indecent, the way his hand smooths along your inner thigh, but he finds he doesn’t care. Neither do you, when you finally turn to look at him, and your breath hitches with how close he is. It's getting darker, but not all of the street lamps are on.

“I’m thinking…” And he smooths your hair away from your neck. You shiver. “That right now, I'm much too endeared by you to deny you anything you might ask.”

“Oh really?” Your tone is amused, disbelieving but he nods. Goodness he was…Ah, how did Uvo and Shalnark put it again? Whipped?

“Okay, I want a million dollars.”

His expression doesn’t change. “Alright.”

“Alright? Don't tell me you’re that easy love.”

“I’m afraid I am, for you dear… Is there anything else you desire?” You flush darker, but in a bold move you grab onto his collar and drag him down into the grass for a kiss.

Your mouth does taste sweet.

A few days later, you were relaxing at home…Until you decided to go to your local coffee shop and treat yourself. Your favorite barista made your drink perfectly, and you checked your bank account to see whether you could give them a more generous tip then your usual, to find something very shocking. Now you’re pacing your bedroom with your phone pressed to your ear.

“.....Yes, dear?” Finally he picks up. You immediately lay into him.

“Chrollo? Honey, dear, darling, apple of my eye, gem of my heart…I seem to be in a bit of a conundrum.”

“Is that so? How about you explain it to me so I can help you.”

“That's exactly why I called. Now, can you tell me why there is suddenly an extra one million dollars in my bank account? Hm?” You know it's his fault. You know it.

“Hm. Maybe your boss gave you a raise?”

“Oh, is that so?”

“You have been working hard dearest.” Cheeky bastard.

“Chrollo.” He chuckles on the other end of the line, and you feel like the top of your head is going to blow off.

”Chrollo.”

“Alright, alright. It was me.”

“And why in the nine circles would you do that?”

He’s silent over the line for a minute, you can only hear the hum of his car, so you assume he‘s driving, wherever he is.

“Well, you asked for it.”

“What–”

“As your spouse, isn’t it my duty to attend to your every want and need?” You slam the phone down on your bed, and immediately smack face down into a pillow, and scream. What the hell. You can hear his muffled voice on the side, and pick the phone back up after about a minute of suffering.

“Are you alright dearest?”

“My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.”

“Oh? Now that won't do. Would another million make you feel better?”

“I will literally leave you if you do that.”

“I always knew you were a thief. Not content with just my heart, are you?”

You sigh hard and pinch the bridge of your nose. There is an anxiousness curling tight and hot in your belly, and his amused tone of voice isn’t helping.

“Where did you even get this kind of money?”

“I won the lottery.” You yell his name and he laughs, full on laughs, you’re sure your face is completely red by now.

“I'm truly serious.”

“I’m not going to accept that as an excuse.”

“Fine. Then it was inheritance from a rich estranged aunt of mine. Perhaps I'm secretly the CEO of a major conglomerate. Or perhaps I own a couple of mines. Maybe I got lucky with the stocks I invested in. Whatever makes it easiest for you to accept, darling.”

“Accept what?”

“I think we both know what I’m alluding to.” There's that tone of voice again. That tone.

Sometimes, Chrollo just…puts you on edge. There was always something eerie about him, and while he could shrug it off and be his dashing, charming self, you couldn't deny that he sometimes made the hairs on your neck stand on end.

He was too observant, you could never sneak up on him. Never. And he liked to stare, a lot. He was also crazy observant–bringing up little tidbits of info and conversation you brought up years ago with perfect clarity. He acted the most odd when you were your authentic self, like he was simultaneously amused and fascinated by your ‘quirks’.

Like when you would stop to talk to and help strangers, or when you’d return a wayward shopping cart to its right place, or when you stop to pet the local stray cats. You had always brushed it off with probably him being jaded, a bit awkward (he doesn't get internet lingo, he doesn't know basic meme culture but can tell you in excruciating detail where the murderer went wrong in whatever documentary you’re watching), but you cared for him. The good outweighed the strange, right?Even if he was gone so often, or never took off the wrapping around his forehead or changed in front of you, or how he could sometimes move so fast.

Your partner is creepy, honestly. But who doesn't want a borderline cryptid boyfriend? You stay with him anyways.

Maybe that's to your own detriment.

You sigh again, feeling like five years has been taken off your life. “You can't just drop a million dollars into my bank account Chrollo.”

“And why not?”

“Because… Because!! A million dollars Chrollo?”

“I see no issue with it. And I’m not taking it back.” He cuts you off before you can start your next sentence.

“I don’t see much value in material wealth. It makes no difference to me. Consider it disposable income.”

“Spoken like a true bourgeois.I can’t believe I betrayed my fellow man for a blood sucking parasite.” You wipe a fake tear away.

“‘Parasite’? I'm quite partial to spiders myself.”

“Ew, whatever.” Of course he would like spiders. “I’m donating your money to charity then.”

“Alright then. It’s your money now dear.”

“...You’re amused by all this, aren’t you.”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean,” sounds of traffic overtake the line as he goes silent for a moment.

“I’m just endeared by your humility and generosity. But there's no need for theatrics dear. What's mine is mine, and what's mine is yours,” you can just imagine the smugness radiating behind that genial smile.

“And naturally, you are mine, so my point stands..”

You’re silent, and Chrollo waits for your response. You just sigh again, and shake your head.

“I can’t understand you sometimes.”

“There's no need for you to, darling. Just indulge me.”

“Yeah? And what would you like?” You tease, slipping into familiar territory. He hums in thought as if he doesn’t already know what he wants.

“Let me take you out to dinner tonight. No fuss from you.”

“You already made a reservation huh.”

“Of course. Five star." Oh dear goodness, this man is going to be the death of you.

Well, at least if you fall ill due to the stress of being with such a man you can actually cover your bills, and then some.

“So what do you want me to wear?”

“Something long sleeve, we’ll be dining on the open balcony.”

“You’ll just give me your coat if I get chilly. Anyways, I asked you what you want me to wear?” He goes quiet and you try not to grin.

“You said indulge you, right?”

He’s quiet over the line, before he laughs low, and despite yourself there is a flutter in your gut.

“You’re a wonder Darling.” he mutters something about ‘missing this later’ but before you could make head or tails of that he continued.

“Wear something black. Surprise me.” You roll your eyes and yourself off the bed, padding over to your closet.

“You and your monochromes…Alright, where are you?”

“Just a few blocks away.”

“That hardly gives me enough time to get ready.”

“No need to rush, we have time. I set the reservation for eight tonight, so you still have a few hours.”

“Then why did you come so early?”

“What if you need help zipping up your dress?” You laugh, and close the closet, having grabbed what you needed.

“Whatever, let yourself in with the mat key. We’ll talk about your disposable income when you arrive. And you can put the roses away yourself when you come.”

His voice is smooth and deep with mirth. “How did you know I brought roses?”

“You always do, dear.” You hear the sound of a car roll up to the driveway and grin, hanging up the phone. You rush into the bathroom to get ready.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo lucifer x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucifer x reader #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #chrollo lucifer #hxh #my writing #my stuff #my works #yandere hunter x hunter x reader

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witheredgardenparty · 4 months ago

Text

The Bell Tolls

Read on AO3 (AO3 Account)

(This might look familiar. Author moved blogs.)

Chrollo x g/n Reader

Originally a request for the Holiday 2023 Tarot Request Game.

It had all started with a trip into town, and had ended with a gambit. (or, the one where you bake a cake.)

Warnings: yandere dynamics, soft yandere, implied forced relationship/marriage, possessive behavior, paternalistic behavior, creepy man, food and cooking

Word Count: 0.8k

You almost regret the suggestion. It had all started with a trip into town, and had ended with a gambit.

Everything has been, well, tilted since he had entered your life. Not different exactly, not how you first had feared. You still kept your apartment, your furniture, your phone, your job. The changes were mostly subtle. Someone else’s clothes are tucked into your closet. There is food in your pantry you would never choose to buy. You know now that there exists a second pair of keys to your front door.

There was nothing for it. Calling the police had resulted in fewer police. None of your neighbors nor colleagues can see past his gentlemanly persona. His charisma level is high enough even your own mother is charmed. All avenues for help exhausted, you had no choice but to accept your strange new roommate.

...please read the rest on AO3. (Requires an Account)

"IsIs it okay to request the example with Chrollo and baking a cake? 👀" - Anon

The Draw:

The Hawk and Thistle (Graceful Persistence)

Beetroot (Passion) - In Reverse

Seven of Coins - In Reverse

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years ago

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Winter Wonderland.

Yan Chrollo x Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 2k.

Bleary blankets of snow beat down on the isolated cabin you inhabit.

The hearth does what it can to stave off the relentless assault of nature, yet the biting chill sinks its teeth into you nonetheless. You glare at the frosted-over window as if the glass is a personal affront to you. An argument could be made that this architecture was intentionally sought out for its dilapidated quality and the certain advantages poor insulation could bring. A working theory, but the indignation it stokes within you is the most reliable source of heat you’ve discovered thus far.

The wind vocalizes a shrill aria, accompanied by the off-beat thump of loose roof tiles struggling to remain tethered. This orchestral procession keeps your mind on high alert. Exhaustion is a temptation you shoo away to the best of your ability. It’s difficult to imagine a restful slumber when every sound hints at some imminent collapse.

“Aren’t you cold?” Chrollo calls over, as if he actually needs your confirmation. “There’s plenty of room over here.”

What a revelation! Indeed, courtesy of your occipital lobe and functioning eyes, you’re capable of discerning the information he’s oh so generously provided. You grit your teeth and succumb to another shivering spell. Pride is a curse and you’re undoubtedly damned. Chrollo is the one who led you into this problem and still thinks himself deserving of offering a solution. He’s situated directly in front of the fireplace, on a loveseat, moved over to the left side in waiting for your inevitable resignation.

“Hypothermia is distinctly unpleasant, dear.”

You roll your eyes. You’re about to thank him for sharing such esoteric knowledge with you, when an alarming realization settles in.

Your hands are starting to go numb.

The crackling fireplace exerts a magnetic pull you’re growing increasingly unable to resist. Your survival instincts commit mutiny, overthrowing your incessant need to be as spiteful with Chrollo as humanly possible. Before you know it, your feet are moving in his direction of their own accord. You’d like to accuse him of using one of those Nen abilities, though when you get closer, his precious book is nowhere to be seen.

He pats the empty cushion beside him at your continued reluctance.

Thankfully, there are no demeaning words on his part when you resign yourself to your fate. Your weary legs cheer at this opportunity to relax. The rest of your body is already reaping the benefits too, thawing the layer of cold you were encased in. It seems whatever higher power exists has seen fit to continue smiling upon you, for Chrollo shares his blanket without you needing to grovel.

“Is that better?” Chrollo queries. You eye him with undisguised suspicion. This amiable mood of his is odd, a departure from the usual script. How much of it is manufactured or genuine is inscrutable. You try to read his face, like you’ve attempted thousands of times before, inspecting each crevice for hints you’ll never find.

He surprises you by chuckling. The sound is breathless, almost melancholic. It makes you frown.

“It never ceases to amaze me, just how many ways you can express your hatred without needing to utter a word,” he tilts his head, inspecting you in the same way you did him. He’s grown closer without you realizing it. He’s akin to a disease that way — always encroaching where he’s never welcome. “Does it make you feel better?”

“Yes,” your reply is instantaneous. His lips quirk up, but it’s far from a content smile. “However, it’s not for the reason you think.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Hesitation returns. You’re falling into his cadence, lulled like a lamb to slaughter. Having your brain picked by Chrollo is as regular a daily activity as eating. You’ve never arrived at a singular reason to explain his obsession with the act; whether it be depravity, curiosity, or to satiate the need for human contact he can’t get elsewhere. Perhaps it’s a mixture of all three. A malformed cocktail with ingredients too noxious to palate.

You’ll never get used to the taste, so it’s best to down it all at once.

“There’s something truly sad about you,” you lift your hand to touch his cheeks, made rosy from winter’s unforgiving embrace. It gives you the false impression of a cherub, the very being he’s the antithesis of. “You don’t know yourself, so you must dissect others. It’s safer that way. You don’t run the risk of discovering something unsightly if you never search in the right place.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was under the thrall of a hypnotist’s pocket watch. His gaze is distant yet somehow present, fluctuating between two extremes.

“It’s an interesting theory,” he allows. His voice is playful whereas his expression is not — you note the dissonance. “I can tell you’ve considered it at length. Do you think about me often, sweetheart?”

You sidestep the bait he’s set out for what must be the umpteenth time. “That was the primary goal behind the creation of solitary confinement, yes. Forcing the inmate to think.”

The jab at your living arrangement doesn’t go unnoticed. He raises an eyebrow.

“About themselves, wasn't it?”

“And the warden too,” you reaffirm.

He closes his eyes — contemplating whether to press you on this subject or another, no doubt — then reopens them with newfound conviction. “You’ve yet to explain your original point.”

“I was getting there, when someone saw fit to interrupt,” you huff. He never fails to get on your nerves. “Yeah, I’m sure petty satisfaction has something to do with it. You’re not above that yourself. It’s more than that, though. It’s about choice. It’d probably be easier if I went along with all your whims and acted the part of a starry-eyed lover. Then I remember you are who you are because you made the easy choices. So I don’t want to.”

Chrollo doesn’t bother trying to conceal the interest this piques in him. “You think I’ve made the ‘easy choices’ to get where I am today?”

A premonition coils its tendrils around you then, attempting to constrict you before you wander into volatile land. There’s no threatening lilt in his voice yet, or the look that tells you to keep your mouth shut before you regret it, but you’re getting there. Traipsing a steadily fraying line when it’d be simpler to cower back to safety.

It’s a wonder what you’re looking at is a human being. That your hand is touching skin, which bleeds when broken just as yours does.

“Cruelty is almost always easier than kindness. It’s our natural condition. That’s where humans are special, distinct from any other organism. Our capacity for growth. We can become kind, although we’re born cruel. I think that is strength. That is the difficult choice. Which is why you and the other Spiders don’t make it,” you drop your hand, finding it sufficiently warmed. “You refer to people as ‘puppets’ because it’s easier that way. You kill and steal for the same reason.”

Another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were such a humanist.”

“You didn’t?” Your expression conveys your disbelief. “I thought that’s the entire reason I’m here.”

“That’s certainly part of it.”

There’s unsteady silence for a moment. Most days, he’d counter your points and nitpick every little detail with the fanaticism of a zealot. For whatever reason, this method doesn’t interest him now, he seems content to take what you’re dishing out. Is he trying his hand at self-flagellation or something? Whatever the case, you’ve spoken your piece.

You turn your attention away to the fire. Its glow swaths the rustic room in a reddish hue. If you were here with anyone else, you might go so far as to call it cozy. That was probably Chrollo’s intention behind choosing the locale. The snowstorm holding you hostage was just an added bonus.

An arm slithers its way around your shoulders. You sigh but bite your tongue. The addition of his body heat at least has a practical use; he once mentioned mastery over Nen includes the ability to manipulate one’s physiology at will. That must be nice in conditions like this.

He tugs you toward his side, and you relent, knowing you lack the strength to put up a meaningful fight.

“I admire your tenacity,” he reveals. You stay trained on the flickering flames. “Most would shrivel up in fear before they spoke to me that way.”

“Should I fear you?”

“A little,” Chrollo hums. “Everything in moderation.”

The branch from a nearby tree beats incessantly against the window. You jump, attempting to twist your body to the left where the sound originated, but Chrollo’s grip grows impossibly tight. You may as well have been wearing a straight jacket. Figuring it’s just his way of reasserting dominion over you, you don’t bother dwelling on it.

“[First].”

It’s rare that he says your name. You’re normally assailed with sickeningly sweet monikers like dear or sweetheart, a tendency you’re half-convinced he developed to irritate you. Swallowing down your dread, you prepare yourself for the potential fruits of your earlier premonition.

“Hm?”

“You’re right that I chose to be this way,” he says. This catches your interest. “Whether or not it was an ‘easy’ decision by your definition of the word… I’m unsure. I became someone worth fearing out of necessity.”

His earlier melancholy weighs heavy in the air.

“That’s just as well. I don’t regret it. No… it’d be more accurate to say I’m grateful for it. Say I chose the ‘difficult’ path. Exemplified the virtues you hold so dear. I’d be awfully miserable in this proposed universe of yours.”

This is a trap you can’t sidestep. “Why?”

His lean fingers dance up and down your forearm. “Cruelty is my natural element, you said so yourself. I’d be denying the desire I was born with. I may even be denied you, consequently. What allows me to have you here, like this, the subject of your undivided attention and object of your thoughts? Is it kindness? Morality?”

His espousing of libertine values is nothing new to you, yet the resonance of his words is deeply unsettling. It’s as if they’re dawning on him for the first time. That by entertaining your discourse, you took him by the hand and personally led him to this conclusion. Nurtured a nascent idea he never would’ve found otherwise.

You feel cold again.

“No, it’s none of those things. I have you because I played dirty, [First],” his chest rumbles when he chuckles. “You are a wonder I can never lose my appetite for, every taste has me longing for more. Your mind, your heart, your soul… you bare them all so willingly, with a little prompting. How many would you have benefited if I never interfered in your life?”

It’s agony — still, you wrench yourself against his hold, to the degree he must loosen it, lest he break you — mustering up all your malice to glower at him. If you were capable of exerting bloodlust, it’d certainly be thick enough to devour anyone it came into contact with. You have no such parapsychological abilities, so you settle on what you can do, your animosity raw.

Chrollo’s eyes soften with warmth only you can draw out. “I’ll be the sole benefactor of your effulgence. If given the opportunity to do it again, I wouldn’t hesitate to go down the path that ends with you.”

Your lips part and then close.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to adhere to mind over matter. A few seconds that carry the weight of eternity pass. You relax your posture to the best of your abilities, your shoulders drooping and your body heavy as lead.

Once again, you raise your hand to touch the cheek you held earlier.

It’s wet.

“… I meant what I said earlier,” you observe the glistening of his skin with an impassive expression. “There’s something terribly sad about you, Chrollo Lucilfer.”

If he’s incapable of acknowledging this reality, you’re more than willing to.

#chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #my stuff

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 9 months ago

Text

Home | Yandere HunterXHunter x Fem Reader

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

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

“That’s not very nice.”

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

“You don’t deserve anyone being nice.”

“Kimmy. Upstairs now.”

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

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

“See? You set yourself up for this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Later.”

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

______________________________________________________________

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

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

“But you didn’t eat your cornbread.”

“‘M not hungry.”

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

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

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

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

“What was that about bud?”

He hesitated twirling the bread around in his hands.

“It’s just hard…for me.”

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

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

*Smek.*

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

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

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

“Okay!”

______________________________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kimmy feigned guilt as he put his hands up.

“Uh oh, Mr. Morrow you caught me!”

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

“So I heard he came back yesterday.”

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

His smile wavered.

“Tried to?”

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

“Hmmm.”

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

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

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

Kimmy’s nose scrunched and his eyebrow raised.

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

“T-that’s a great idea!”

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

______________________________________________________________

“Hisoka we need to talk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” “And to you of all people.”

“Oh really?”

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

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

“Why should I do that?”

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

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

“Then why be bothered at all?”

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

“Revenge? Again, who?”

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

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

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

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

“Ah, that is true.”

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

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

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

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

“Want to bet?”

____________________________________________________

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

“Another one? Leader?”

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

Chrollo didn’t respond.

A foreboding sign.

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

“(Y/n) and Kimmy.”

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

“My eyes were sniped.”

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

“Any suspects?”

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

“Whoever they are, they work quickly.”

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

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

“Yup!”

Shalnark was prepared for the coming bloodshed.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere hisoka #Yandere hisoka morrow #yandere phantom troupe #yandere shalnark #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #Yandere HunterXHunter

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cheesecakethots · 11 months ago

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“Uvogin… I’m tired… not tonight, please…” for the ask game, thank you!

Your back is tugged to his chest, and his muscular arms have you trapped in a warm embrace that leaves you feeling sickly. It’s not as though there’s anywhere you can run to in these deep, dark woods. Despite your hatred for your captor, you have to admit that he does make you feel safe in this unsafe place.

Safe from everything that’s not him.

His large calloused hand pauses above your stomach, and something akin to a grumble leaves his lips.

“I ain’t tryin’ to fuck you,” he murmurs, lips tickling your ear, and then uses the hand to push you even tighter against him. “You’re cold, aren’t you?”

You are, but that’s not entirely the reason for your trembling.

God, this entire situation is so fucked. How long has he been dragging you from one abandoned building, to tent, to freezing woodland, to the next? Months? A year, now? You haven’t kept count, but even if you did you would’ve forgotten a long time ago now. You don’t even realise what you’re saying until it’s been said.

“I wa-wanna go home.”

It’s pretty pathetic, the way your voice shakes and your lip quivers and a sob crawls its way up your throat. Uvogin hasn’t seen you cry like this in a while.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, leaving you to ponder whether he’s going to sit you over his knee, tug on your hair or, at worst, break a bone.

You feel him lean his face further into the back of your head, breathing in deeply.

“Shh. Go to sleep. We need to get up early in the mornin’, I’m meeting the others a few cities away.”

Your eyes close and you silently pray that maybe one day he’ll leave you alone to go on one of his ‘jobs’ and he won’t come back.

You doubt it.

#tw yandere #yandere #tw.yandere #yanderecore #yandere hxh #yandere uvogin #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #yandere hunter x hunter

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ataraxiaspainting · 2 months ago

Text

Blue Crow.

Yan Nobunaga x F Reader x Yan Uvogin. (College AU.)

Synopsis: Uvogin hates taking buses, but he enjoys seeing you one seat ahead of him.

Warnings: Yandere themes, non-con, the reader is described as AFAB and she/her pronouns are used, unhealthy relationships, brief mentions of drug/alcohol usage, victim blaming, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), sexual blackmail, and implied stalking.

Word Count: 5k.

somewhat inspired by the game classmates! check it out here if you'd like. <3

also inspired by @uvobreakmylegs's digging deeper! it's amazing! <3

*~*~*~*

The 5A station was the closest one to your dorm. It had no seats or shelter of any kind in case of bad weather, only a large blue sign that said Yorknew University, Nursing Program in white bold letters – because it didn’t say anything else about the buses that stopped by and because this stop is surrounded by old rotting trees, the drivers sometimes fail to notice you.

It’s raining now, and everything here is so dark – your clothes, your umbrella, the night sky, and your bag.

Your phone says the bus will be here any minute now, but will it even see you?

If not, you’ll have to find a different way to make it to Nobunaga’s place.

He seemed friendly enough. If you were a few minutes late, surely he’d understand. You were not close enough to invite him over, go inside his home, or let him drive you anywhere, though that is just how you are with all males you casually know. It’s nothing personal.

There are two bright lights a small distance away, and at the sight you raise your hand and wave.

By some miracle, the bus stops and opens its automatic doors.

You take a few steps as you close your umbrella and make your way up the stairs, being careful not to slip. You slip a few quarters into the little slot beside the driver and sit down on a seat near the window.

Taking off your hood, you ruffle your wet bangs out of your face, using your reflection to attempt to get them back to looking presentable. It doesn’t really work, but what does it matter? You’re just there to give Nobunaga some notes his friends wanted to give to him and leave.

*~*~*~*

“You’re [First], correct?” Chrollo asks, putting his right hand out towards you.

You take out your earbuds, fixing your posture as you nod. A blonde man sits next to you on the bench before Chrollo could, smiling and giggling like he is some gossiping schoolgirl.

“Dang, you’re cute!” Shalnark exclaims.

“Shal, what the hell are you doing?” Uvogin had started to stomp over. His mere size was enough to keep your eyes on him and not the others. Even the one girl who was with them didn’t draw your attention, despite her hair being unnaturally bright pink.

“Saying hi!” Shalnark put an arm around you. On instinct, you squirm a little bit, not noticing how Uvogin rolled his eyes in response to how Shalnark smirked at him. Once you were out of his loose grip, Chrollo politely cleared his throat.

“I was wondering if you could do something for us, Miss [First]. For the gang, I mean.”

The gang? From what you knew, Chrollo’s group was always causing some sort of rule-breaking but Chrollo himself stayed at the top of the class with superb grades and plenty of attention from girls. It is like no one knew they were connected. They seemed like bad news, but all of your interactions with them had been positive thus far. Did Nobunaga put in the good word for you?

“Um… sure?” As long as it was something that didn’t land you in prison or the hospital, you decide to go along with what Nobunaga’s leader asks of you. It is probably a bad idea to reject, and maybe you’ll get something good out of it in exchange.

“I’d like you to give Nobunaga some notes he missed. He’s been out. Sick, most likely.” You didn’t notice the small piles of books he was carrying until he made them closer to you, wanting you to take them. “Surely you have noticed? He talks to you a lot, I hear.”

“Yeah.” You decide to put them on your lap for the time being. The notes weren’t as heavy as they would have been if you were carrying them. “Is… he doing better?”

“Not sure,” Uvogin says, attempting to pry Shalnark off the bench. “He hasn’t been answering his phone, you see.”

“I don’t wanna!” Shalnark whines.

“Shut up, Shal. You’re gonna make us look bad in front of Nobu’s girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?

“I’m… not his girlfriend…”

They don’t seem to hear you. You’re not exactly the loudest person, after all. You have been teased for having a soft voice and having to speak up. These people wouldn’t ignore you, you think. Shalnark and Uvogin are play fighting, and Chrollo is talking to that magenta-haired woman. They wouldn’t ignore you, you’re just being too shy. They wouldn’t ignore you, they are Nobunaga’s friends. Nobunaga wouldn’t ignore you, why would they?

“I’m… not his girlfriend.”

Uvogin is the only one to give you a response after hearing it. He shoots you a confused look before continuing to tickle Shalnark. No one else seems to notice your words.

After a few more tries, you decide to give up for now. Looking at the notebooks in front of you, you decide to open the top one up. There are just standard mathematical problems as well as some doodles and words of encouragement in the vacant spaces of the looseleaf.

‘Go get them, tiger!’

‘Don’t die on me now!’

‘Remember one plus one?’

‘♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡’

At first, you think that it is Nobunaga’s girlfriend, but you shake your head to erase it. No. The gang thinks you are his girlfriend.

Perhaps Shalnark then? From the times you sat near him in your chemistry classes, his handwriting was a mess. It took some effort to realize that he was simply drawing and not paying attention to the professor in the slightest. However, his favorite things to draw were bats and computers. Would he really draw hearts and not those things so Nobunaga could know it was him?

Maybe it was an inside joke. You’re not going to ask because you don’t want your question to come off as disrespectful, though you were slightly curious.

You’ll just do what you were told and go right back home.

*~*~*~*

Shalnark texted you the address of Nobunaga’s place a few hours ago, but if you were being honest it took a while to decipher what he was saying. In between every five or so memes or videos he sent you there was a number or letter, maybe three at most if you were lucky.

You sat there with your phone in your hands for what felt like forever, not having the guts to ask Shalnark to just tell you straight up – because he wouldn’t, you know that.

From what you managed to gather from your online map, it seemed that Nobunaga’s place and Uvogin’s place were near each other, no more than a fifteen-minute walk at most. If they lived so close to each other, why didn’t one of them just visit the other? That was the third red flag you didn’t say anything about… and came to regret only half an hour later.

The electric sign attached to the entrance of the bus flickered from time to time with varying degrees of brightness. One person complained openly to the driver that the screen was so dark they did not know that they had missed their dormitory’s building. He didn’t care, only shrugging his shoulders and telling the student that ‘that’s life’. They got off murmuring curses you could hear from the middle part of the bus. Once again, he didn’t care. Like Shalnark, the driver wouldn’t take anything you say seriously; so you just used your online map to count the stops ahead.

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Aster Road, Thirds Street.” The automated message from the bus speakers loudly said, glitching a little after the word ‘Road’.

“Hey.”

You failed to notice who was behind you as you were too busy counting the stops ahead on your phone.

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Ritas Street, Wilds Complex.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Neo Road, Neon Green.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop: Romeos Road, Kiki Terrace.”

“Hey.”

“Next stop-”

You failed to hear the name of the stop because the hand that tapped your shoulder startled you and made you turn your neck around to the seat behind you.

You see a familiar face despite the fading light – or should you say, a familiar body.

“O-Oh… hi… Uvogin.”

Satisfied you had finally noticed him, Uvogin puts his hands behind his head as he smirks.

“Fancy seeing you so late,” he begins, looking down at your black bag. “Going to Nobu’s place, ain’tcha?”

“Yeah… you?”

“Basketball.”

Was Uvogin on the team too? If you remember correctly it was only Phinks, Feitan, and Nobunaga who were on it. Perhaps he just wanted to watch? Oh well. It’s not any of your business.

After remembering your last conversation with him yesterday, you decide to ask him why everyone thinks you are Nobunaga’s girlfriend – you only talked to him when necessary, in the classes you shared with him, but to be fair he also escorted you around the building most days.

“Listen… about that time…”

“What?” Uvogin turns his head, cupping his ear with his hand. “Speak up.”

“About Nobunaga and me…” You look down – at the books, at your cold wet hands, at the heels of your feet bouncing up and down. Your gut tells you that you’re making a mistake if you talk to him about you and Nobunaga’s relationship, or lack thereof. Your brain goes against it, saying that clearing things up will lead to less trouble down the line.

Your heart is beating too fast to accept or reject the possibility.

“Nobunaga and me…”

“You’re still talking too low,” Uvogin interrupts, his stare near-lethal to you. When you flinch at his words, his annoyance seems to disappear. “Hey, you can tell me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Yeah. Yeah, you’re friends or at least acquaintances. Saying the truth won’t hurt him and won’t hurt you. Maybe Shalnark’s teasing will go away. Maybe Chrollo won’t give you a task again. Maybe Nobunaga won’t be confused when he comes back to school.

“Nobunaga and me… aren’t dating-”

Uvogin’s expression changing wasn’t as fast as before, but his glare intensified as he stood up.

“Next stop: Nightstar Avenue, Owl’s Place.”

Your ears felt numb after you heard the ‘beep’ sound of someone pressing the stop button. Your eyes felt numb as you tried to see the details of Uvogin’s scowl in the dark.

It was Uvogin. He made the bus stop. But why?

It then hits you; this is the closest stop to Nobunaga’s place.

“Stop requested.” The speaker stated. The bus started to pull over next to a tall blue sign.

“Woah, the bus got here so quickly,” Uvogin says, going to the exit doors. When he didn’t hear you stand up too, he turned in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t know the directions to your boyfriend’s house?”

“Please exit through the rear door.” Another automated message. Uvogin presses on the door and it lets him out. After a few more seconds you follow him – your gut tells you that you must.

He helps you down with his much larger hands despite you not really needing it – there are handrails on the doors for that.

“What were you saying?” Uvogin asks. “Something about Nobunaga?”

There is a lit street lamp above the sign. It doesn’t flash like the ones near your dormitory and is much brighter. Despite the weather still being stormy, you can see houses a small distance away – not just the street.

You can see that Uvogin is smiling again.

“Nothing… It’s nothing.”

“Oh?” He sneers, his smirk getting even bigger. “You didn’t want relationship advice?”

“No…” You reply, your hands going to your backpack’s zipper to make sure the notes don’t get too wet.

“Nobunaga likes mochi. Maybe you can get some for him next time. Daifuku especially. He’d be so happy, maybe he’ll stop skipping class with me.”

A sigh comes out of both of you at the same time for much different reasons.

“But I don’t want that to happen… hmm.”

*~*~*~*

The outside of Nobunaga’s house wasn’t the house that stood out the most in this neighborhood. It had rather small walls that had peeling white paint in places closer to the ground, and cigarettes and used needles were thrown all over his dead lawn. The only thing you somewhat liked was the rusty gold sign beside the front door that read 251 – and only for the styling of the numbers.

“Here’s the place,” Uvogin says, patting your back as a way to gently push you forward. “Go on, doorbell's right there.”

You were forced up the steps with a force you knew was gentle for Uvogin but not for you. A trembling finger approaches the button slowly – as if using it would make you lose it via a guillotine’s blade.

Doing so didn’t because this is reality, but the pain in your heart feels similar to such a fate anyway. After a few more seconds and the door still being closed, Uvogin knocks loudly.

“[First]’s here!” His yell almost made you cry.

Your name may as well have been the password because Nobunaga opens the door right away. He pants a little like he was running to greet you two.

“Oh fuck, you made it! I thought the storm woulda scared you away.”

Nobunaga didn’t look very sick; he wasn’t wearing a shirt, had his hair down, and only his boxers covered his lower half. He didn’t look very sick; he actually looked quite well. Those signs scared you more than Uvogin’s subtle threat – if his glaring was intended to be such, that is. You don’t step past the doorway, leaving Uvogin to stand in the rain as you take off your backpack. But when you try to undo the zipper, you feel both of their hands touching you up and down as their grins widen.

“Stop that,” You murmur, attempting to step back. Your spine was greeted by Uvogin’s front half. You feel something pressing into you. Once you figured out what it was, you started to go under one of Uvogin’s arms. His leg caged you in then.

“She’s cute, Nobu.”

Nobunaga doesn’t answer in words – he only chuckles and continues to have his hands resting on your hips.

“Listen. Your notes are here, Hazama.” You say, making an effort to still be nice, to still be understanding. You don’t want to scream because what if you’re misreading something? You don’t want anyone to… be framed for something they didn’t do, right?

“It’s Nobunaga.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Nobunaga,” You’re pushed and pulled more. Before you can blink, you’re thrown on the couch’s back. Uvogin is the one who lets go of you and the one who locks the front door, Nobunaga is too busy feeling the back of your thighs. “I’m your boyfriend – it’s normal to call each other by our first names, right?”

Boyfriend?

Was… Was he…

Was he the one who told his gang you’re dating?

“I missed you, baby.” He murmurs, leaning down and pecking your neck.

He doesn’t seem to note how you’re trembling now.

“Stop.”

Uvogin simply gets closer. He doesn’t touch you, but he crosses his arms smirking as he leans against the sofa’s frame.

“Stop,” You repeat, trying to push Nobunaga harder off of you.

It’s not an order either of them recognize, so Uvogin continues to stare and Nobunaga continues to kiss your body.

“Stop!” Your tone makes Uvogin slightly shift. He frowns and his arms uncross.

He takes a few steps towards you.

“Nobunaga.” Uvogin’s voice is cold now, like how it was when you were about to get off the bus. You freeze. Nobunaga doesn’t stop – he doesn’t even look at Uvogin. “Nobunaga.”

“Stop, Haz-”

“Watch it.” Uvogin glares at you. “It’s ‘Nobunaga’ for you.”

He’s not… He’s not going to help you?

“Yeah.” Nobunaga agrees, pulling you further into his embrace.

“Let go of me!” You snap and push harder than you did before – and manage to finally ply him off of you.

Nobunaga stares down at you. He is now still. He doesn’t blink. His smile has slightly faded, but it is still there. There are subtle movements in his hands. His fingers are curled up. They want to grab something again.

They want to grab you.

“Don’t joke around like that, princess,” Nobunaga finally says, taking a few steps too close to you. “Not many guys are willing to forgive their girl for pushing them away like that. You almost screamed my ears off.”

“I’m not joking!”

“You are.” Uvogin interrupts, stomping his feet. “You are and I am starting to get annoyed. What about you, Nobu?”

“I’m just here to give notes Lucilfer told me to give to Hazama! I’m not here for anything else.”

Nobunaga’s gaze lingers on your backpack for a few silent moments after you say that. “Really… nothing else?”

“No, she’s here to cheer you up, Nobu,” Uvogin says, attempting to give a warm smile to his best friend. “She’s… just shy.”

The glare he gives you when Nobunaga’s eyes aren’t on him makes you feel like you are about to see God.

“...Right, [First]?”

You don’t respond right away, but Nobunaga does. He giddily smiles like a child on Christmas morning.

“Oh, you!”

He hugs you – his skin feels akin to slime and his hair clings onto your neck in little bunches. You feel unbrushed knots and his heart beating fast with adrenaline. When your own heart mimics the motion, Nobunaga thinks you are simply being shy – Uvogin had once again fed his delusions.

“She brought you the notes you missed. Even wrote a few cute lines in the blank spots.” Uvogin smirks as you look at him in horror. “She wanted me to come with her. Was anxious about missing your bus stop, sweet thing.”

He walks over to your backpack and grips onto the zipper. You attempt to stop him, walking a bit forward and trying to raise your hand, but Nobunaga’s grip is too strong. Within only a few seconds, the stack of notebooks Chrollo had given you is in Uvogin’s hands. He opens a page and starts reading aloud the cute notes someone else had written.

“Go get them, tiger.”

He turns to another page.

“Don’t die on me now.”

Then another.

“Remember one plus one?”

Then another.

“A whole bunch of hearts here…”

He then turns to a section you hadn’t looked at before – the back page.

“With lots of love, your one and only girlfriend [First].”

Oh shit. Oh shit.

Did his gang set you up?

…They did. They did.

This is bad. So very bad.

“I never-”

“Stop being so shy with your boyfriend, [First].”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Nobunaga asks, slightly frowning as you protest.

You have to get out of here – fast. If you distract them enough, maybe you’ll be able to make it outside. But they’re faster than you, just better overall when it comes to physicality-

Uvogin’s hand rests on your shoulder, silencing any thoughts or ideas he does not approve of.

“I know what she wants.”

“Huh?” You and Nobunaga ask simultaneously with two distinctly different tones.

It then dawns on both of you what he means – because his shirt is tossed on the couch before you can even take a step toward the front door.

“I know what she wants.” Uvogin repeats.

He wants nothing more than to put you on your knees as he unzips his pants and as Nobunaga keeps you down. He wants nothing more than for Nobunaga afterward to have a turn – or he could go first if he wishes. One of his fingers and one of Nobunaga’s own will be forced into you after your own clothes are discarded. Two tongues will slather all over your pussy like thirsty dogs – and after a few pictures are taken you’ll stay the night with Nobunaga while he makes his way to tell Chrollo that his idea was a success.

“I really couldn’t have done it without you, boss.”

-You try to scream and Nobunaga’s hand muffles your mouth’s cries.

“Don’t go being such a brat,” Uvogin continues, “When all you really want are two bodies to love on you.”

Your arms are grabbed and you are dragged up the stairs.

In a last attempt to get out of here, your legs spread out on the stairs and kick around at Nobunaga – but the fight is short-lived because they thump so roughly with each wooden step and it hurts; Nobunaga makes a note to finally get rid of any rotten oak once you leave.

The bedroom isn’t as spacious as Uvogin had hoped. Clothes were scattered all over the place already; most Nobunaga’s but others were clearly from past flings or some of yours that he had managed to steal. Your dorm was nicer despite it being the same size as the bedroom and your bed being even smaller. But at least yours had a frame and covers.

Maybe later Uvogin will stop by to see you crying yourself to sleep and to take some trophies.

Your white panties were a favorite of his, but Uvogin wouldn’t mind a little bit of change in his collection. A few bras perhaps or a few black thongs. He hopes for whole lingerie sets, but he knows it will only happen if he is lucky that particular evening.

Uvogin sits on the bed first. He thinks about pulling on your hair to make you sit on the dirty floor, but he dismisses the idea. That would be hurting you more than he has to and Nobunaga would be upset at him inevitably having long strands on his palm.

“Hey Nobu,” He says, unzipping his pants and boxers as he quickly tugs them both down to his ankles. “Make sure she’s comfy as we do this, okay?”

It took a while for you to stop crying after that. It took a while for you to do a lot of things Uvogin and Nobunaga wanted you to do. It took a while for you to take just the tip of Uvogin’s penis. Nobunaga had told Uvogin to take it slow when you had finally clamped your lips around him.

“It’s her first time, Uvo – be gentle, okay?”

Uvogin almost laughed at the irony he managed to leave unsaid.

He didn’t want Nobunaga to get upset with all the information he had attained while stalking you for months. You were supposed to just be his little secret he pinned down once in a while, but then Nobunaga just so happened to share a few classes with you.

He fell for you too. Uvogin had never felt any negative emotion for Nobunaga ever over their years-long friendship, but the slight tinge of envy he possessed the moment he found out could almost count.

Oh well, he thinks. I still have pictures of you that he does not. Pictures I would rather not have him see and you probably don’t either.

Just for future reference in case you acted up too much, though Uvogin could always take the more physical route.

Though once again he remembers that Nobunaga is in the picture now. Though their bond is as strong as forged steel, he knows that his friend has always been a bit too controlling when it comes to what he has and loves.

Whether that be simple instant ramen or expensive bottles of brandy, Nobunaga has always had a habit of stowing his possessions away where no one can even look at them.

Uvogin understands although Nobunaga had said nothing about you being something to own. Uvogin understands because he sees how he looks at you.

It’s not disgust he feels. It’s something much less potent, but he cannot put his finger on the exact word. Machi had described it perfectly once when they were all in their mid-teenage years.

He doesn’t bother to remember right now.

You are more important.

You look prettier than he had ever seen you – precum is leaking a little from your lips as little noises come out of them too.

Please. Please.

Please.

You’re not in tears right now.

Uvogin is glad. You in makeup is nice to look at, but he knows that since it is absolutely pouring outside you didn’t want to put some on. Either for that reason or because you knew that Nobunaga was just a friend, despite what Nobunaga in return has told the Troupe. It’s cute, really.

Maybe later he can pull this when he inevitably breaks into your dorm or even in a study room in the university’s library. You’ll have makeup on when you feel like it or when he forces you to. He can ask Pakunoda about how to apply mascara and stuff. She’ll teach him. As a bonus, she won’t tease him like Shalnark does daily.

Thinking more about the idea, Uvogin makes the mistake of letting go of your face.

You cough louder than he had expected. Your spit is now all over the wooden floor Nobunaga has to clean up later. The floors are water resistant. But not waterproof. Uvogin has to remember that there is in fact a difference. Hopefully, it won’t stain and rot like the stairs did, but if it does Uvogin wouldn’t mind paying for the damages.

He wouldn’t mind paying you to keep silent about this too – or he’ll make the cops silent if it came down to it.

“Oh,” Nobunaga rubs your arched back as you squirm and saliva runs down from your clearly sore jaw. He sounds disappointed, but trying not to let it show. It’s not successful. Every person Nobunaga has ever crossed can read him like a book, not that Nobunaga knows about it. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t want to admit it. “You spat it all up. Didn’t wanna swallow it?”

You don’t respond. Uvogin is getting used to that by now. Not Nobunaga though.

“Shh… it’s okay.” Nobunaga senses your distress but thinks it is just shyness. Uvogin is getting used to that too. “It’s okay… you did such a great job.”

“Home,” You choke out. “Please… let me go home now…”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Nobunaga asks, turning his head a little. “We’re not done here.”

“Please… Please, I-”

“Shh.” Uvogin interrupts. Now it is his turn to play the good guy here. “Nobu still hasn’t had his turn, remember? Thankfully he won’t use your mouth.”

A blend of hope and fright is in your gaze. Uvogin didn’t have to get used to that one. He has seen it too many times with all sorts of people. Chrollo loves that look. Feitan loves it too. Maybe their partners’ eyes are like that as well. A ginger-haired girl avoids Chrollo like the plague and Uvogin hasn’t seen that look particularly on her. Apparently, she does in fact beg him for things. With how prideful she acts, Uvogin would pay money to see that.

“He’ll use his,” Uvogin says. He stands up, zipping his pants back to how they used to be. There are a few white stains here and there, but nothing the laundromat wouldn’t fix. “Then you can go home. Okay, princess?”

You’ll get used to this, Uvogin thought to himself. Everyone gets used to things. Even death.

325 notes · View notes

novasdarling · 2 years ago

Text

Growing Pains

Yandere! Illumi x reader

TW: Kidnapping Hinted, Pregnancy, Zoldyck Child Training(Idk what to label it as), Sort of Forced Pregnancy and Dubcon, Female Reader.

A cry woke you from your sleep again. It had to be the fifth time in the last few hours that she had woken up. Heading towards the crib near your bed, you checked to see why Sora was crying again. She couldn’t be hungry again, you swore you had just fed her not too long ago. You silently prayed she wasn’t teething yet, you weren't ready for that. Picking her up, you both sat on the bed. Trying to calm her down so you two could sleep again. Usually, she was in her own room with butlers that came to answer her calls at night, like with the other kids. But when Illumi was gone, it was nice to have another in the room with you at night. Even if she wouldn’t sleep.

Trying to hush her to bed seemed to be insignificant. A knock at the door proved that.

“Mrs Illumi.” You always hated how they referred to as that. Always linking you to Illumi. Master Illumi’s wife. Mrs Illumi. Mrs Zoldyck. Never just your name. “If you please, I can take her back to her nursery.” A butler had walked in. She was new but extremely sweet. You wondered how the hell she got here.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you though.”

The butler left, leaving you with a crying baby. She was the fussiest of all your kids. The others were better sleepers by miles. There was nothing you could really do right now, you had changed her, fed her, rocked her. Looking down at her, wondering what would make her cry like this. You needed to calm her, it would be embarrassing to have to call the butler back because you had failed. Failed to get your own child to rest. She was your child, you should be able to do this. Holding Sora closer, you hummed an old lullaby your own mother used to sing to you. It was more for you than her, a way to calm yourself down. If she sensed your tiredness and stress it would only make things worse.

The cries had finally stopped, looking down you saw Sora peacefully sleeping. It worked, the lullaby got her to sleep. Silently thanking your mother's need to sing all the time. You moved to lay Sora back into the bedside crib, but when you put her down, she woke. She just wouldn’t let you be. Taking her back into your arms, you laid her down on the bed near you. Making sure the bed was cleared on her side. Luckily Illumi had gotten the biggest bed possible. You kept your hand on Sora’s stomach. Humming and rubbing her, trying your best to get her back to sleep. Soon the cries stopped, her heavy eyes closed and so did yours. Both of you letting exhaustion win. Getting the much-needed sleep you both had been deprived all night.

The morning light shining through the window had lit up your room. The drawn back curtains had allowed the golden light to fall in and unfortunately hit your eyes. Waking you up. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, looking to the side expecting to see Sora, instead being met with an empty bed. Shooting up you looking around. She wasn’t by your bed, not in her crib. Where was she?

“Sora, Sora? Oh, god where is she?” You were running around the room the room, scared she fell off the bed and crawled somewhere.

“Mrs Illumi. Please relax. Sora is in the nursery with her siblings.”

It was the same butler as last night, she must have heard you running around the room shouting and came in. Her words calmed you down. She or one of the others most of gotten her before you woke up. You let out a breath of relief. She was safe and fine. Thanking and dismissing her, you got ready. Wanting to go see the kids in the nursery.

All you wanted to do was play with the children today, but Illumi was set to arrive back home soon. He'd never allow you to put all your attention on them when he was there. Dressing in Illumi’s favourite dress, as he was supposed to come home after dinner and always liked you ready to greet him in an outfit he enjoyed. It was like this ever since he had taken you as his wife. He had strict rules for you and the children. It was better when you played the part of the perfect wife. After all these years, it had gotten easier. Especially after having Mary and Silva, the twins. You had them to focus on when he was gone, to distract you from him. Illumi even seemed to change. He had always been somewhat kind to you, after all he had taken you and made you his wife because he stated he loved you. But before the twins he was awkward, not knowing how to communicate with you. All he did before was keep the bed warm with you and spoil you in gifts. Even then, it was detached. It was clear he didn’t know what to do with you besides the occasional conversation, sitting in silence, and sex. At least now he was more aware what was needed in a relationship.

Once ready you headed to the nursery. The butler told you all of them there playing. It was nice that there were still moments they could be kids, even if they belonged to the Zoldyck family. Heading down the hall until you came to the room. The nursery was on the other side of the hall. Illumi stated it was best to keep them far from your two’s room. You argued which made him settle on allowing them to have their rooms on the same floor as yours.

Walking into the room you were met with a different view than what you expected. The kids were playing, but they weren't alone. It wasn’t the usual butler that was watching them, no it was Illumi.

“Hello dear. You look wonderful.”

“You’re home early. I thought you were homing after dinner.”

He explained that the target was easier than originally thought so he was able to come home earlier. Illumi was sitting on the couch, holding Sora while watching the other kids play. They all had some features of his. Whether it be his long hair, his height or his large eyes. At least those that did have his eyes didn't have the emptiness like his. According to Kikyo, their eyes were almost like yours. Held the same emotions as yours, but were his shape. Only Silva and Sora looked more like you. Though Silva had his grandfather’s white hair. Born with a full head of it, Kikyo demanded that he have a family name. You were so tired you would have agreed to anything to get everyone away from you and get some rest.

Illumi signalled you over. Putting Sora on the ground to be swarmed by her siblings. Then pulling you down to sit on his lap. A hand on your waist and one on your thigh. He began to talk about his target. How easy it was, the method and plan he used. You always hated how he talked about these things in Infront of the children. They were still so young, but then again, he always told you that soon they would be joining him. It was hard to look at the twins and think that even though they were only eight, they were already getting trained. Being prepared to be taken out on missions with their father. No matter how much you loved them, they would always be seen as possessions of the Zoldyck family. Belonging to Illumi, not you.

“Sweetie, don’t push your brother.” You went to get up, but Illumi held you down.

“Let them be. They can figure things out on their own.”

Illumi went back to ranting about whatever he pleased until he called the butlers in to take the children to training. You tried to ask him to let them stay longer, you had just woken up. Yet, once again Illumi’s word was final. Once the kids left, he led you out of the nursery and back towards the bedroom. Signalling for you to help him undress, he knew you rather have him change his clothes once he got home. It was foolish, but it made you feel like what he did wasn't real if he changed clothes.

“We should have another.”

What

“You-we, I thought we were only going to have the four?” You two already had the twins, Kilian and Sora.

“Yes, but you seem happy with the kids." He turned to look at you. Scanning your face. "Lay down on the bed.”

He was standing there shirtless while your hands were still helping him with his pants zipper. There was no arguing with him. You originally thought after the twins he’d stop but then Kilian came a few years after that and Sora after that. To you, the others weren't planned. At least not on your part. It was only after you found out you were pregnant with Sora that he revealed he wanted four. Illumi tended to do what he pleased with you. In a sense, you were lucky he even brought it up instead of just doing it.

You laid on the bed, watching as he finished undressing. You realized you were still dressed. Your attempts to get undressed were stopped by him. Illumi telling you to just remove your underwear. Doing as he said, sliding them down and off your legs while Illumi watched. His eyes refusing to look away as he crawled on the bed between your legs. He held position you in the middle of the bed. Keeping himself in the middle of your legs. Using his hands to hold them apart while he lowered his head. Moving towards your clit, sucking on it. He was good, too good. It was rather annoying, especially since he was so good at reading you. Listening and watching you to see what worked best, what drove you crazy and right now. He was succeeding. The way his lips attached around your clit, the way he used his tongue. It made you a moaning mess, struggling to get away from him. Only to have his hand come up and hold your hip down. It was mind-numbing in an amazing way. The way his tongue was swirling around your clit was bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It wasn’t fair how he did this to get his way. Make you a puddle so he could do what he pleased. It wasn’t fair, but then again it was better than when you first got here. He just would position you and did what he pleased. Barely even warming you up.

“Good. Almost there.”

You were more than almost there. You were at the edge ready to fall off. Just a few more swirls and you were screaming his name. Gripping his hair, unsure if you wanted to pull him away or bring him closer. It was intense. You were still catching your breath as Illumi wiped off his face and lined himself up. You could barely look straight, too much in a daze. Not focusing on him moving and lining himself up, until you felt his tip at your entrance.

“I-Illumi, I don’t k-know.”

“Shh. I’m not done.”

He wasn’t a man of words unless he wanted to be condescending or rude. Then he seemed to be very skilled with them. It was best to lay back and let him enjoy himself now. If you were good for him, he’d make sure you enjoy it too. But the idea that he wanted another kid was blocking that idea. Were you ever going to get a break from having kids? Sora wasn’t even a year old, this was sooner after than the others.

“Illumi, please, S-Sora's too young.”

“I want a few more and now.” Illumi dipped his head to your ear. Littering a few kisses by your temple and the shell of your ear. While he pushed in. “You always look good-mmmm so tight-when you have my baby.”

His pace was slow while he pushed into you and let you get used to him. The stretch had gotten better over time, it was less intense than the first few times you two were together. Then again, Illumi also learned to focus on getting you warmed up first.

His thrusts were speeding up. His gentleness only lasted so long, he liked to get you off first so he could focus on him. He was selfish in nature, but better than before. His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his hips slammed against yours.

“Good. So good.”

Illumi was in the heat of the moment. Losing himself in your cunt. Fucking into you roughly. The way he was aiming his hips. Trying to get as deep in as possible. Wanting to also hit your sweet spot. It felt good, rough, but good. If he just slowed down a bit he would last longer and make you cum around him.

“Illumi! Illumi! Please, s-slow down. Please.”

“No. I’m almost done.” He was attempting to keep his composer. It was faint, but there was some strain in his voice. “I’m going to put another baby in you.”

He leaned back for a moment, pushing your legs up against your chest into a mating press. Allowing himself to get deeper. He was getting close to becoming too much. You wanted to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. He was much stronger than you and once he was in the moment, there was very little you could do to push him away.

His grunts were loud and clear in your ear. Letting you know how much enjoyed being with you. He was hitting your sweet spot, ramming into it over and over. He was close, his thrusts were getting sloppy. You were getting close too. It wasn’t fair that he was making you feel so good when this wasn't really for you. He wanted another kid. You knew if he could, he’d probably keep you pregnant all the time.

“You looked good this morning. Laying in bed with Sora. Such a good mom” So that was it. Illumi was getting messy now, something that rarely happened. “I want more.”

The buildup was becoming too much. You clamped down on him, causing him to cum when you did. He held you tighter as he stilled. Filling you as much as he could and as deep as possible. While you were clawing at his back. Illumi was grinding into you, riding out his high. You were trying to catch your breath under him. Both of you lay there coming down from your highs. He came down faster than you, moving off of you to lay beside you. Watching your chest rise and fall trying to catch your breath.

“I hope for another boy like Silva. He’s getting further than I was at his age. Kilian seems to be too sensitive like you.”

Illumi was right, Kilian tended to come back from training in tears. It melted your poor heart. You never wanted this for them. If only all of them were more like Illumi. Mary tended to be a good spy, always telling her dad what you had been up to while he was away. He trained her well. You couldn’t help the way your eyes teared thinking of what your kids had become. They once were innocent little babies like Sora, but even she was receiving some training now and when she got older. She would become like the others.

“They’re kids Illumi...”

“Yes, my kids. They are part of the Zoldyck family and so will the others we have.” He moved closer, sitting up slightly and looking down at you. “I thought we were over this.”

“You're right, I'm sorry."

You remembered how you would cry and beg him to leave the twins alone when they started their training. Sometimes he'd lock you away as punishment so you wouldn't be able to see them for weeks. Spending that time alone crying over them. It was better to let him take them if it meant you could patch up their wounds after and be with them. It was cruel either way.

"Why do you want more now though? Sora is still so young.”

“I saw you with Sora this morning. You were so peaceful with her, you always looked that peaceful when pregnant. You always looked good.”

You smiled at his words. He was always the horniest when you were pregnant or when you two were trying. There was no arguing with him. You thanked him and laid a kiss on his lips. Illumi had come far from all those years ago. He was still cold and calculated, but at least now. Now he had his moments when he was alone with you and occasionally with the kids.

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