#Yandere Hunter X Hunter X Reader

[stickyspeckledlight]

Tidal Cesspool [Yan!Chrollo x GN!Reader]

Chrollo brings up your favorite literary genre in a typical conversation.

WC: 3.6k

Tags: n0nc0n mention (chrollo hasn't done anything yet, but there's...there's just a VERY brief mention), potentially a bit OOC *sweat*, borderline crack at the end

Note: Ngl I think there's an ask which covers this crack scenario. However I can’t find it but this silly lil thought was still plaguing me so here we go. If I’m not hallucinating, then don’t fault me for the “plagiarism…on accident [which I will fix immediately]” (Somerton, 2020). IF anyone knows abt such an ask then pls put it in the reblogs. Anyways this wasn't necessary I just wanted to put in a plagiarism joke before the fic starts lel

Anyway here's chrollo being a pretentious shithead who should just go and die or something (ngl sometimes i can't help but think he's shalnark expect he tries to pretend to be a gentleman lol).

enjoy my yandere comedy piece <3 xoxoxoxoxo

There is something inane to the way you stare up at the ceiling. You're sprawled over the couch like a sea star, waiting for the tide to come take you.

However, the air continues to waft over you. Continues to prick at your skin, tangling your hair and stinging your eyes.

But you're stuck to your rock. You can't move from your tide pool to the nearshore, much less the deepest of depths, even if you wanted to.

It's not because of your own attachment to the rock walls, however. Rather...

"Deep in contemplation again, love?"

A hand keeps you pressed and trapped against it; a hand that currently runs down the leather spine of a book that you think he's been going through for about a week. Probably about this or that; but most likely, a word salad of pretentious philosophy he’ll use to justify his usual fatalism and/or the Troupe’s actions. Taking after his name (which you’re convinced he must’ve chosen for himself), he does play the devil’s advocate well; but you’d say his ability to twist words to suit his own needs is much, much more impressive. And annoying. But begrudgingly, impressive all the same.

You only wish you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Chrollo regards you with a patient smile. Joy doesn’t reach his eyes—even if he was capable of such an emotion, he’s irritatingly good at concealing his emotions—but he can never fully mask the hunger that crinkles his eyes; crinkles, like a wolf’s snout, right before it tears into prey. It's the only reason you believe in his insistence that you're of some interest to him. You don't believe in that interest being 'love,' as he likes to say, but you're wholly assured in being a passing, if not intense, interest. Like being enamored with a new show, movie, or game. For a bit, it'll be all your life is defined by, etched into the sand, but eventually, the tide will come back and wash it away like it was never there in the first place. Only truly precious things can be engraved in rock.

For him, only the Troupe is engraved there. And you'd be a fool to think you would be there, too.

The couch shifts. Chrollo's closer to you, his hand barely a pace away from the edges of your hair. Though it tries to beckon, you only ever feel repulsed by it.

...That said, if you only try to delay the inevitable, the inevitable will become much, much worse. And if he gets in a bad enough mood, he might suction you to his chest come nightfall, rather than his usual trick of the room's temperature coincidentally dropping to where cozying up to his warm body would be nice, so why wouldn't you do so? Well, nice, if you disregard the fact that it's Chrollo's body, and not someone you actually like.

You roll over with a grimace, looking up at him from where you lay. You don't bother to sit with him eye to eye yet, and soon enough, you look straight ahead. All you see are his legs and the rest of the couch.

"And I thought you were deep into that book," you unenthusiastically respond, tracing patterns into the cushions.

“Quite,” he admits, “But few things match your level of salience.”

Salience? Really? “What’s with you and talking like a book? Talk like a person, please.”

“But you understood what I meant,” he breezily counters, “Seeing as you are my only present company, it follows that in this rhetorical situation, I need only ensure that you understand me, love. And in that, I have succeeded.”

You frown, “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Not this again.” You would normally bury your face in your hands, but given your position, you bury it in the couches. Sure, he’s technically not wrong, but goddamnit if it doesn’t annoy you. You thought hearing stuff like that was far behind you, with the completion of your required writing and communication classes all the way back in college…

“You’re admonishing me, yet here you are taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

“Says the guy whose last name is a letter off from Lucifer. Shouldn’t you be alight with exuberance?” You suppress a sneer at your own mocking mimicry.

“I never claimed any moral superiority before, though. I’m only stating facts, love,” the book is set down on the couch, next to your head. His hand inches closer. It’s a sign for you to get up.

As you rise, he continues.

“If you have complaints about my language, then you should watch your own…that’s all I’m trying to say, love. I'm not contradicting myself.”

You grumble. “I’m only saying you should talk more…casually. More normally. Swearing is a part of that.”

“Ah, but I am speaking to you like that,” Chrollo tips his head, “Casual and normal are both subjective. No two people will have the same definition of them. My and your speech are wholly normal, both from our perspectives.”

“Not from my perspective. You've always been a weirdo.”

He challenges, “Even if I cared about what was ‘normal’ or not,” his fingers entwine with yours, despite everything, “I wouldn't call your situation...normal. Do you think 'normal' applies here?"

Now he's just deliberately pushing your buttons. Raving on from some weird, philosophical ledge, twisting out technicalities to craft arguments the average sociologist would drool over. Maybe you could appreciate it more if you were the academic type, but you were never really interested in that scene. Most of what those types talk about just seem too abstract, too pedantic (pretentious) to be of any use at all. Whenever you'd overheard some of the sociology majors (either kids with no idea about what they wanted to do, or kids with parents too rich to let them fail---though, that's not to discredit the kids with a loose screw or two. You actually like those kids, but those kids also talked normally), you'd end up scoffing to yourself and rolling your eyes. You swear that those kids were doing everything in their power to use as many big, weird nobody-could-find-anywhere-besides-the-annals-of-a-dictionary words as possible to describe something that could be more easily described as "power activate many monkeh brain, so monkeh fight."

It's exhausting, and you want him to stop. At least---at least stop pretending that there's some sort of deep meaning to be twisted from this, and not just what the situation really is: "an obsessive psychopath kidnapped and imprisoned you and is trying to make you obsessive for him too because he has no capacity for real love or care."

"Whatever," you mumble, already drained. It's not a response; your response would've been begrudging agreement, followed by you sulking and him preening (even though he never seems to have to try too hard to win an argument against you; but you think it's just because he likes the overwhelming power and 'superiority' he holds over you).

No, you just want him to shut up. In an ideal world, his mouth is either sewn shut, or its not there at all. Actually, the latter would be truly ideal, because if that were the case, he would've died from dehydration hours after leaving the womb.

But, that's wishful thinking. Even when he has you stuck against sharp rock, he never resists the urge to twist his palm, grinding you impossibly closer to it.

"So you don't care about what's normal or not after all?" Chrollo muses. You bristle as his grip firms up. As you feel sharp rock edge on puncturing your skin. "That's a curious change of heart."

You groan, "Chrollo---" you swear he glows "---it doesn't matter. You can talk like some sort of cult member or something for all I care. Just because I'm annoyed at your weird pretentious hoity toity thing doesn't mean you'll stop it, considering the circumstances." You feel even more heated, and take a deep breath to try and quell it. A bit of shame creeps up your cheeks regardless, though. You're getting worked up for the worst, useless reason. Even if Chrollo egged it on, even if you hate him, even if you're just lonely and want to di---you're getting worked up over so, so, so little. "Just...just chill out or something, man."

(Or is that just his manipulation creeping into your thoughts?)

"But it's indicative all the same," He hums. His smile has dropped, leaving behind the blank expression wholly characteristic of him (the only expression that looks like it belongs). Now, he did little to hide his observation. He prowls out in the open, right below the overhead sun. Perhaps it's a contradiction, given his profession, but you understand it as sheer, almost lackadaisical confidence. "If you're able to drop your conviction so easily, even for something as small as this," his hand raises so he can rest his chin on it, leaning forward in thought. He does not let go of your hand. "Then it stands to reason you could drop the conviction that has you refusing me."

You don't mention Chrollo's many, prior claims that you'd give into him, eventually. There's no need to, because from the look in his eyes, you're both thinking about those exact same claims. A futile pursuit, he called it.

And you know? It's true.

But if you've gone this far with futility, then there's no reason to not indulge in it for as long as you can.

"Just because I get annoyed with your conversational meandering doesn't mean I'll just suddenly get all kissy wissy with you," you snap.

"You're getting caught up on the macroscopic level. Today was just a microscopic display, no?"

Despite yourself, you feel heat returning to your cheeks. To your heart. Your whole body, really.

"As if. There's nothing redeemable about these circumstances."

He'll probably cheekily mention your use of room service, curling into the luxurious bedsheets---things like that. Expected things. Actually, things that have already happened, because he really likes mentioning that. It serves its purpose of pissing you off.

He doesn't say any of that, though.

"Are you sure?" he raises an eyebrow, "I was sure you’d enjoy this kind of situation."

Anger spikes in your heart. You realize in the back of your mind its bait, that he's trying to draw out this exact reaction, but emotion already courses through you. Maybe it's because you're so shocked that he didn't go the route you were expecting---or, or---

"Me? Enjoy?" You bitterly laugh, because what else can you do in front of such sheer audacity? "Wh-what," you sardonically chortle, "The kidnapping? Losing my friends, my family---my life?!" And oh, oh no, tears bead at the edges of your eyes--- "How you---how you force me to be with you, to---to kiss you---" the words are hissed, "just so you don't massacre the people I actually care about?! And---and even then," you swallow a lump, unpleasant scenes of sufferance and cruelty unwillingly passing through your mind, "You'll just kill other people anyway?! Steal, plunder, kill, massacre---" your mouth runs with words now; your mind feels too white, too raging hot to string together coherent sentences---

And Chrollo wears that patient fucking smile.

“Love,” he blinks languidly, fluttering his eyelashes, “Are you sure you aren’t lying to yourself?”

"Why would I be lying?!" You snap. Your hand now has a vice grip on Chrollo's, which he simply responds to by drawing circles on it with his thumb. It only incenses you more. "What, annoyed that I can't be your happy little doll of your fucking fantasies and, and---"

For the first time, a chuckle rumbles in his chest. Somehow, it makes you freeze. It sends a shudder up your spine, and though you still shake with unreleased anger, it's forcibly tempered. It shouldn't be. Chrollo laughs during your conversations often. Before everything went to hell, he'd laugh with and for you. After everything went to hell, he laughs at you. Nothing boastful, of course; Chrollo's a reserved man to the greatest extreme. But it's always small. A slight rumble through his chest, a huff accompanied by a smile, and a chuckle in his throat. They're much different than the laughs with or for you---sometimes they were chuckles with a smile ear-to-ear, or even boyish giggles---but they ARE the closest thing to 'genuine' you think you'll ever be able to get with him. You hate them, but you've developed some defense mechanisms against them. They don't happen often, but when they do, you tend to be able to largely ignore them.

But what's so different about this laugh? You don't know, but something about it feels meticulous and planned. It feels---

It reminds you of the day he took you. It reminds you of all the times you've unwittingly sprung a trap.

Now that you think about it, Chrollo's smiled more in this conversation then he has in entire weeks.

"You used to ask me what kinds of books I read," Chrollo calmly starts, lifting his head to raise his book up. You did, but ever since that fateful day a few weeks ago, you haven't bothered.

"And?" You spit.

"Aren't you still curious?" There's a twinkle in his eye. It tells you that there's no choice but to be curious.

You don't want to take it. You're not going to give him the clean segway he surely wants. If not, prefers.

"No," you sneer, "I've got no interest in what a murderer likes to read. Like I said, if you want some nice little doll, go somewhere else."

"If I wanted a doll, I'd have killed and displayed you somewhere," he flippantly replies. You don't think he's serious (you think maybe it's a joke, as cruel as it is), but you can't tell at all. "What I want is you."

"Oh, so then, the 'me' you want is one locked up and currently miserable?"

"You catch on quickly," he teases. He chuckles at the glower you give him.

You think you're bleeding from the sharp rock.

"Since we both understand this, then you should know I love nothing more than some conversation, darling," Chrollo sweetly says. Sweetly, as in a weird, perverted approximation of it. You would've fallen for it before, but you don't anymore. Can't, anymore. "You haven't engaged with my interests for a good while. It worries me about the state of our relationship. Don't you think so?"

He delivers the words lightly, like a soft spring breeze, but the subtle threat doesn't go unnoticed. You feel like you're being plunged into sharp rock directly, now. Like you're being placed on a series of pikes.

"Ok, ok, ok," you breathe---you still want to scream, but maybe Chrollo's patience has started to wear, and maybe if you don't play along with his stupid little game, maybe he'll do something to you you'll really, really hate. Even more than being spooned by him in your sleep. "What are you reading? ...Chrollo."

Chrollo regards the tome in his hands almost tenderly. Almost dearly. Like a treasure. A priceless one, even, and not just something to admire before pawning to the highest bidder.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" He offers it toward your bloody, pinned hands.

You gingerly accept it, and when you do, he finally lets go of your hand. The tide still hasn't come for you.

You start to read. But you quickly notice...perplexing things. The language seems too...too normal, too casual. Not the sort of thing you'd expect to be printed in this sort of fancy leather bound book. It's not bad, of course. The prose is solid, the imagery magical, and the dialogue vivid; but it's just so...understandable. And familiar, but you can't quite place your finger on it.

Then you come across a name, and you swear you've just lost a good 10 years of your life.

“What…” a cold sweat forms on your back. Should you laugh? Should you cry? Should you rage? What are you supposed to do but ask? What CAN you do but ask? When this whole conversation---when you've been put on edge over this fuc---

“Shal has a way of tracking down info even I can't match,” he explains, running his hand over the paper, “Before his help, I never would’ve thought…” his eyes lock onto yours with a devious grin, “You had this…interest. It was a pleasant surprise."

You want to scream. You'd love nothing more than to take his head and slam it into the ground over and over---you'd love nothing more than to scream into the couch and flail your arms and legs with revulsion---you'd love nothing more than to laugh until you're blue and choking.

"H-how," you choke, "The book. And just. This. How'd you---how'd?"

"I went to a bookbinder," he explains. "I'm quite happy with the results."

Your eyes are wide. "...How long? How long did you know?"

"Long enough."

You're too mortified to be properly offended by the non-answer.

The bastard went to a bookbinder so he could physically behold the copious amounts of yandere fanfiction you consumed.

You look over at him helplessly.

"It's a fairly niche genre," he explains, like you aren't currently going through the five stages of grief, "But above all, fascinating."

Someone should just kill you.

"You've been so resistant to loving me because I stole you away. Yet, for years, you've taken escapism in these narratives of the unwilling 'darling' and doting lover."

Doting lover? That's what Chrollo is using to describe the person who imprisons? Who quashes any semblance of individuality out of a person whose only crime was being loved by the wrong person?

The leans in. "Rather than being my fantasy, don't you think you're the one living out a fantasy? I certainly never fantasized about this; of being at the mercy of someone powerful who chooses you to covet." His eyes rake over behind you, where the spoils of his recent heist lay, "Well, I never fantasize for long. I take before I drown in escapism, as you so gladly chose to."

"N-no," you weakly defend.

"No?" He hums, "But there's everything. You, unsuspecting of a charming man, who eventually betrays your trust to whisk you away. And yes, you fight. But...you aren't truly threatened. You are surrounded by all manner of luxury---even if you say you don't like it. Deep down, you're happy you're away from the life that's been giving you all manner of grievances."

"Don't tell me you can't differentiate fiction from reality," you stammer. "Why the fuck do you think just because I read about it meant I actually wanted it?"

"I didn't," he admits, "How long do you think I've had this book anyway?"

...A week or so, you think. After he took you. But he could've read a ton beforehand and only had his favorites binded. You just glare up at him in lieu of an answer.

"It doesn't matter," you raise your hands and let them fall unceremoniously, "The fact that you've read all of this makes everything worse. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised given the whole murdering thief thing, but I'll never not be surprised at just how depraved a man you really are."

"Depraved?" He smirks. That's not a good sign. "Darling," he pointedly says, "I'm not sure how much more depraved I can be than someone who gets raped vicariously through transformative fiction."

Humiliation punches you in the gut.

You choke. "If---if you---" you feel heat rise to your eyes, "You don't let me even have silly little secrets," you helplessly breathe, unable to say anything but the first thing that came to your mind when you read that damning name, "You can't let me have anything of my own."

"Not necessarily. You possess a portion of my heart." A lesser half than the one belonging to the Spider, you'd bet.

"And I'd be happy to relinquish it."

"It really does put a lot of things in perspective," Chrollo ignores you, attention turning back to the accursed book you have half a mind to tear, "How, sometimes," his eyes become lidded, "There's a small part of you that wants to give into me."

"Bullshit," you spit, reflexive more than anything, "A bunch of stupid fanfiction doesn't tell you shit about me."

"Clothes maketh the man, as they say. I imagine a similar principle applies to fiction."

"Have you even heard of---" you bite your lip, "Well, sometimes really good people read stuff that isn't deemed good or vice versa. I hear there was an artist who painted lots of cottages, but was a horrid drunk in real life. My favored sorts of stories doesn't inform my desires, and with you, I desire to skedaddle and never see your face ever again."

"Your most common tag is Stockholm Syndrome." He hums. "Say what you will; about the barrier between fiction and reality, but it tells me that, at least, a small part of you is...receptive."

You groan. "You do realize you sound like some weirdo pearl clutcher with that line of logic, right?"

"I'm not speaking in absolutes, love," he preens, "Merely that it's not remiss to consider you have some semblance of an agreeable predisposition to all of this."

"You---you're just," you want to scream, you want to tear out your eyes and ears and--- "fucking delusional and I---"

You don't realize you're heaving until a hand is placed on your shoulder. The ice it sends down your spine is enough to freeze over the fire of rage, embarrassment, and humiliation fueling you.

"Often, when people read," he begins, "They envision themselves as the perspective character while they do so. They try to feel what they do, and think as they do. Given the genre's heavy use of the second-person perspective, it's safe to say you were able to do that with ease."

"So, if that's the case..." he doesn't smile, not anymore, because there's just no need,

"Why don't you start eroding that barrier, now that the real thing is in front of you?"

It's going to be a long time before the tide comes back, you think. Until it does, you've nowhere but this cesspool.

ㅤㅤ Works Cited

Hbomberguy. “Plagiarism and You(Tube).”

Youtube, 2 Dec. 2023, youtu.be/yDp3cB5fHXQ?si=KsUuykgb8Xswn_he. Accessed 26 Mar. 2025.

Somerton, James. “James Somerton Stream .”

Youtube, 11 Dec. 2022, cant.be/botheredto?si=findlinkonwaybackmachine.. (qtd. in. Hbomberguy, Plagiarism and You(Tube)) .

plagarism joke after the fic 🔥

(it'll be off on mobile i think RIP)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Illumi Zoldyck Headcannon Pt. I

Illumi is the type to be so unfamiliar with a simple crush he thinks he’s bewitched when he keeps thinking of you

So when he diverts from his trip home after a successful job it's completely logical

He’s just trying to release himself from this hex

He might even recruit Hisoka 

he’s so sure of it

Whether you’re hanging around Killua and Gon or just hanging out in a city where he was working he makes his way to you

With tons of plans up his sleeves, he goes in

Only to freeze on the spot when you look him in his eyes

“Uhm can I help you?”

“....”

Hisoka’s intervention is the only thing that will save him

Physically shaking the man’s gaze is the only way he starts functioning again

Hisoka will have a good laugh 

But his family wouldn’t 

Whether it's a worldwide disaster that brings the heads of the Zoldyck family together and you're a fighter

or just investigating on their own they’ll bear witness to it

The way you arrive on the scene and Illumi.exe just stops workin

Of course, you don’t notice that the assassin is just wigging out because you’re (inadvertently) talking to him

When they do realize you’re not putting him under some spell 

And he’s just weird

They encourage him to just have you take you if necessary

Whether that’s abducting civilian-you or trying to defeat you on a wager to marry him

All that advice goes out the window because he can’t even talk to you

He doesn’t know the embarrassment 

He doesn’t know butterflies in the stomach

Not until you

You suddenly become this onus that baffles him in every which way

Whether you’re strong enough and aware enough to confront him

Or have little to no use of nen and have no idea who he is

He won’t be able to do anything until he’s able to handle you

But why would he ever 

He loves you 

Even if you’re making him seem like some incompetent lobotomite

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Chrollo Kissing Thought

A/n: Proof read enough to get sick of 3 paragraphs, grammatical errors(?) tbh just sentence structure dw, and teeth. A paragraph about teeth. Thank u and good night.

Chrollo is waiting for the right moment to kiss you. He wants it to be magical, other worldly, just as enchanting as he fantasizes it to be; the plush flesh of your lips and tease of your tongue already invading his mind. Are you the type to be shy and only caress your tongue against his time and time again, or are you bold and willing to give every fiber of yourself to him? Swirling, interlocking, and roping around each other sloppily-- it's the thing of every man's dream.

He wants to feel the structure of your teeth through your warm lips, the outward curve of your lower face clashing against his. Would it be weird if he let his tongue slip across your teeth and to your gums? Occasionally, of course. Chrollo finds the idea of feeling the texture and shape of each individual tooth slotted in the wet, firm insides of your jaw alluring. He longs to study your body, to worship it like it was meant to be. Treasure and read it over repeatedly like the many books he's stowed away in his personal collection of stolen items.

But how to do that without you trying to scratch his face off like an ungrateful house cat? Seems like only time will tell. For now, he'll just stick to kissing your cheeks while you're dead asleep, or ghosting his lips over your shoulders if your guard is down on a good day. Chrollo wants you to at least tolerate him-- which also already seems light years away-- but woe is him for trying to give you a semblance of his affection for you. He's already got you in his unyielding hold, now he just has to play the long game. And it's not like he's worried about rushing things. You two are going to stay together for a very long time, so you'll give in sooner or later. He knows you, and you'll have to.

[asce-of-hearts]

I would like to ask for a Chrollo one with noncon maybe?

🍓 I’ll be the monster you want me to be, isn’t that what you want?

And

🥡 Keep going, love. I don’t care if you feel sick.

I love reading your work! Keep going!

Fly

Contents: Yandere!Chrollo smut with prompts: 🍓🥡 (gn!reader)

more Chrollo content here

TAG LIST

A/N: Listen to this while reading bc it's what I was listening to while writing

WARNINGS: YANDERE, NON-CON/DUB-CON, SHIBARI.

"You're pretty good at this, I don't get why you were so scared." He says with a smile, his hands guiding your hips up and down, bouncing you over his lap with ease. The wet sounds of your slick against his skin, slapping slapping slapping, echo around the room in a maddening cacophony that makes your head spin. Your eyes filled with tears, your arms, bound behind you by a pretty rope in an intricate pattern intended to imitate a spider web in shape, render you helpless to fight him or escape him, in other words: you're nothing but a miserable fly trapped in a web.

You're being devoured, the skin of your chest reddened with bite marks and hickeys, ignoring the health concerns that sparks as they turn a deep shade of purpleish red. You feel disgusting, your hips following the incessant rhythm he's demanding from your behalf, you can't stop, he doesn't want you to stop. You keep sniffling, movements faltering ever so slightly. One of his hands reaches to wipe your tears away, his smile understanding, as if he knows what you're feeling in this instant. Liar, hypocrite, monster, demon.

"Why are you crying, dearest? You pushed for this, didn't you?" He asks, tenderly, crooning. You feel yourself tensing in rage, he grins as your insides tighten around his cock, never breaking eye contact with your vulnerable form. "You wanted this so badly, my dear. You wanted me to do this. You wanted a bad man, I’ll be the monster you want me to be, isn’t that what you want?"

"I hate you," you sniffle, you cry. Your movements become more erratic, faster, better for him to have you bouncing your ass over his cock faster and harder, you're proving him right. He chuckles, biting his lip. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you so much. I hate you, and I hate this house, and I hate the things you make me do." You stop your movements, sobbing audibly this time, a pretty pout on your lips. How adorable, unfortunately, he has stopped caring about what you hate a long time ago. He smacks your ass with force, and he flips positions. Now you're pinned under him, arms behind your back, face forced into the mattress, his cock slipping inside your entrance as you're in the degrading position of all fours, like an animal. His voice is cold and detached as he guides your movements once again.

"Keep going, love. I don’t care if you feel sick."

hope you enjoyed this!!!

have a great day/night

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[magi-the-writer]

| 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."

[undermine-the-instinct]

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.

[stardustmonster]

Hi I'm not sure if you'll get this request but if it's okay can I please ask for a yandere killua with a quiet darling that wears Jirai Kai fashion because of their abandonment issue's /mental health issues and because it's cute

It kind of makes me think of it as a coping mechanism

🖤 Thank you for the request! I apologize for the inactivity.

Finally got a break from school. I love Jirai Kei, so this was pretty fun.

🖤

I made his side of the post blue to contrast with you because I thought it was cute

While he is perceptive, I don’t think he would notice something so constant about you being an expression of your mental health.

Unless he saw the you incorporating the more injury-like aspects such as bandages (if excessive), or fake blood, he wouldn’t question it in the slightest. He knows better than to mistake it for real blood, but the bandages might catch his attention, mostly if they were new or looked dirtied.

He doesn’t suspect much of your self-expression until he sees something that could indicate or directly display your specific issues. Questionable drawings, a journal, or maybe a stuffed animal mimicking injuries you’ve had before.

Of he doesn’t go out of his way to search your room, but if he does end up finding something, that’s what would make him start second-guessing your overall behavior. You’ve always been like this, sure, but he started to question if your silence was caused by a lack of self-expression that you found elsewhere. That leads him to thoughts telling him he must’ve done something wrong for you to not mention your issues. This is the first time he will ever take your quiet demeanor personally.

If you’re a more open or direct person, you would easily give him the honest answer. However, that might make him even more suspicious, as he wouldn’t go out of his way to confront you about something that wasn’t really your fault.

He’d start blaming himself for any lack of communication on your part, he’d start to overanalyze what he previously perceived as just your regular behavior in his state of self-doubt.

Eventually he’d also start suspecting other people around you, even if they weren’t the cause of your issues. What if they were making it worse? Though even during spiral of paranoia, he’d prioritize being kind to you, whether or not he’s there for you is most important.

He will not make his issues yours, you might never know he was worried about you. That is, if his behavior didn’t already change by this point. You’d notice normal household items that could be used as sharp objects either stored neatly where you couldn’t see them or missing altogether. He’d hold onto you more frequently, and for once he’d actually be concerned if you saw something that could influence you.

He wouldn’t stop your self-expression of any kind, despite his tendencies, he does believe in your freedom. This is yours and he won’t ruin it. He’d just be even more involved in your life.

He loves you very much, please don’t forget that. ⚡️

[witheredgardenparty]

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

[citrus-writing]

surrender to me

Thinking about how utterly humiliating it'd be to be forced to ride your yandere-

Tw: non-con, dub-con, extreme feelings of guilt and shame, reader is an active participant in their own assault 

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

It's bad enough when he pins you down to whatever surface is nearby, taking whatever he wants from you, forcing you to take whatever he gives you. It's bad enough that you're helpless to his advances, that he can so easily overpower you, use you like his own personal toy. It's bad enough that he fucks you so good, hitting that spot that has you nearly screaming, keeping up the relentless pace until your legs shake, and making sure you always cum at least once, though he always always tries for more.

It's worse when he pulls you on top of him. At least when you're underneath him you can say it's not your fault, that you have no hand in what happens to you.

But now, as you straddle his waist, his cock buried deep inside you, he tells you to "ride me, come on, just the way you like it" you feel shame wash over you. He's your kidnapper, he took everything from you, and now he wants you to be an active participant in your torment. Everything in your rebels against the idea, tells you to fight it, to hold onto your pride at any and all costs. But it's not like you have a choice, you know what disobeying him means- you've faced too many punishments to risk another.

Shame eats at you as you begin to move, hesitant and humiliated, but unwilling to disobey. You rock your hips, trying not to shutter with every drag of his length along your walls. You're so wet for him and you know he can tell. You close your eyes, you don't want to see the way he's looking at you, can't bare to see the adoration in his eyes when you fuck yourself on his cock and he can't help but whisper that you're "such a good girl for me".

You hate that it feels good, that even your leisurely pace is making you bite back moans and fight the urge to ride him harder, to make yourself cum, and to feel him cum too. He grabs your hips, guiding you to pick up the pace a little, and you curse that he knows exactly what you like. He knows just how to guide your movements to make you tremble and whimper as he fucks you, he knows exactly what will have you moaning and gushing around him. He knows exactly how to make you his perfect little whore.

It's too much- the absolute misery of the situation is more than you can bear. You're riding your kidnapper, moaning and crying out for him, feeling your orgasm creep up on you too fast. It’s humiliating in a way that nothing else can compare to, nothing he’s ever done to you has been quite so potently horrid. 

You can't tell if he's still forcing your hips into the rhythm or if you've given into it, can't really tell if he's thrusting up into you or if your just bouncing on his cock that hard- but you're so close, and he feels so good inside you, and you want to cum so bad. You should be fighting this, but you’re not. You’re rocking your hips against his and whining his name and begging for more. 

"Gonna cum?" He asks, voice a little bit teasing but mostly breathless at the way you move above him and the way you feel around him. He tells you all the time that he loves you, that you belong to him, that he’d do anything to keep you all to himself. In moments like this, it’s easy to believe that. You nod, desperate for release. "Go on, then,” he encourages, moving his hips against yours to meet you halfway as you move. 

You do- with a desperate cry of his name you feel your orgasm wash over you, crashing down on you and you can think of nothing else but his length filling you up, hitting so deep inside you and stretching you out so wide. It's so dirty; knowing you threw away all your morality and pride for this- you let yourself be used by man you should hate just so you could get off, you practically begged him for it. 

Because no matter how your mind tries to convince itself this isn't what you want, your body knows this is exactly what you want. 

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

[bwabys-scenarios]

Illumi secretly loves watching you struggle to get around when your belly is all swollen and heavy during pregnancy.

The way you attempt to get something or walk for too long then look at him with a pouty face, begging for him for his help fills him with a sort of a possessive pride.

You need him. You’re completely dependent on him to take care of you at your most vulnerable, to protect and watch over you while your belly grows his baby.

And it gets him going.

He can’t help but rub your belly as he keeps you seated on his cock, scolding you when you whine or try to get up.

“Shh, settle down, darling. I’m just trying to take care of you.”

His long, pale lithe fingers massage your baby bump, dancing across it as his other hand helps to guide your hips up and down his cock.

“There we go, darling. My good girl, my precious one…”

Illumi just loves the sight of you helpless and pregnant…💗

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Home | Yandere HunterXHunter x Fem Reader

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

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

“That’s not very nice.”

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

“You don’t deserve anyone being nice.”

“Kimmy. Upstairs now.”

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

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

“See? You set yourself up for this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Later.”

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

______________________________________________________________

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

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

“But you didn’t eat your cornbread.”

“‘M not hungry.”

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

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

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

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

“What was that about bud?”

He hesitated twirling the bread around in his hands. 

“It’s just hard…for me.”

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

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

*Smek.*

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

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

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

“Okay!”

______________________________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kimmy feigned guilt as he put his hands up.

“Uh oh, Mr. Morrow you caught me!”

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

“So I heard he came back yesterday.” 

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

His smile wavered.

“Tried to?”

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

“Hmmm.”

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

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

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

Kimmy’s nose scrunched and his eyebrow raised. 

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

“T-that’s a great idea!”

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

______________________________________________________________

“Hisoka we need to talk.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” “And to you of all people.”

“Oh really?”

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

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

“Why should I do that?” 

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

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

“Then why be bothered at all?”

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

“Revenge? Again, who?” 

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

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

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

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

“Ah, that is true.” 

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

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

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

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

“Want to bet?” 

____________________________________________________

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

“Another one? Leader?” 

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

Chrollo didn’t respond. 

A foreboding sign. 

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

“(Y/n) and Kimmy.”

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

“My eyes were sniped.”

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

“Any suspects?”

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

“Whoever they are, they work quickly.”

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

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

“Yup!”

Shalnark was prepared for the coming bloodshed.  

[asce-of-hearts]

Can I please have the prompt: 🥘, for Machi from Hunter x Hunter?

Branded

Yandere!Machi with prompt: 🥘Every inch of your body I’ll mark it, section by section. (gn!reader)

more Machi content here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: MEDICAL TORTURE (BUT FREAKY), SHIBARI, YANDERE, KIDNAPPING.

"Keep still, my strings will cut if you keep squirming." Her voice is monotone and even as she speaks. Her eyes cold as he keeps moving around you, tying your limbs, contorting you in positions that shouldn't be possible. Invisible strings that bind your body, a puppet moving to her whim.

Your head hangs low in defeat, as you breathe heavily while trying to scream. But it's no use, somehow, she was able to mess with your vocal chords, slitting your throat open and then sowing it shut with such easy, it's unnatural.

She smirks, pulling at another invisible string and forcing your head up, looking at her. Her fingers move around her nen strings, tightening them around your limbs and joints. That'll leave a mark, multiple marks around the tension points.

"Every inch of your body I’ll mark it, section by section." She whispers against your skin, then walking a couple of steps away, as if examining the way you hang from her ceiling in such a strange way, almost lewd. "Until you can't remember how your body looked without my brand."

hope you enjoyed this, have a great day/night.

TAGGING: @goldenglow149 @notreallyablogger

Like my works? Join the TAG LIST!    (please write your @ correctly or else the tag won't work)

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

some Chrollo things i found/realized on my rewatch + reread of hxh

- he has REALLY bad posture. in the PT base during yorknew, when Chrollo is reading a book, he is literally hunched over and his back is at like a 45 degree angle🥺

- he’s very smug and cocky. after his fight against Zeno and Silva, he asks with a smirk to Zeno “if we were in a fight, who would win, you or me?” and chuckles knowingly when Zeno replies. during Chrollo vs Hisoka, Chrollo says that he is “100% sure that i am going to win”

- his personality switches depending on who he’s with. with the troupe, he’s logical and stoic—never losing his temper. when he’s with Hisoka, he’s much more relaxed and friendly + smiles much more often. when he’s with someone older, he’s respectful.

- he doesn’t seem to mind celebrations/parties. he’s seen drinking with the troupe in a manga panel after the auction.

- he seems very self aware of his handsome appearance, as he lured Neon in + most of the abilities in his book are from women.

- in terms of physical strength, Chrollo is 7th in the Troupe —above Bonolenov, Nobunaga, Shalnark, Pakunoda, Shizuku, and Kortopi, making him MUCH MUCH MUCH stronger than even superhumans such as Gon and Killua. (I love this fact for some reason)

- he had many similarities to Gon and Kurapika as a kid. (read Ch. 395-397, which is the Troupe backstory. it has a lot of cute baby Troupe member scenes🥺)

- he has a habit of covering his mouth with his hand whenever he is thinking deeply about something or connecting the lines.

- he knows a shocking amount about the Kakin Empire (in the manga), even more so than some of the Princes of the Kakin Empire.

- he seems to have a habit of smirking whenever something is going according to plan or when something went according to plan. he also just seems to enjoy smirking in general.

- his favorite color seems to be purple due to much of his outfits being some sort of variation of purple.

- in official arts + mobage cards, he seems to have dark circles under his eyes. in the yorknew city arc, he is also the only troupe member who didn’t sleep during the entire arc, meaning that he seems to have some sort of insomnia.

- in mobage cards, Chrollo seems to have a habit of fidgeting with his clothes. (pulling off his tie during the Christmas mobage card, playing with his hat, etc,.)

- he is very athletic, considering how at the end of yorknew city when he was left nen-less on those plateaus, he managed to climb down and find shelter all by himself.

- he is also very rich, since on average, every Zoldyck assassination costs around 1 billion—Chrollo managed to afford to assassinate the 10 Dons, meaning 10 billion Jenny.

- Chrollo doesn’t seem to care whenever someone is being disrespectful towards him or the troupe.

- Chrollo seems to have a particular fondness for suits, as he is often seen wearing a suit in official arts

- Chrollo often wears clothing that covers much of his body

- Chrollo seems to have the traditional values of a chivalrous man, meaning that he respects women quite a lot and makes sures to keep them safe. Chrollo made sure to catch Neon in the most respectful way when she “fell” (he literally could have just grabbed her by the arm and it would have been fine), he made sure to keep Pakunoda + Machi + Shizuku in the same team during yorknew (there were no men in their team), and during the Chrollo vs Hisoka battle, none of the female spectators (or even the commentator) were harmed.

———

AUGHHHHHH CHROLLO ILYSM PLEASE LIVE UNTIL THE END OF THE SERIES😭🥺😫❤️CHROLLOOOO UR MY BBY AND ILYSMMMMM😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️😫😫😫💕💕💕

[yandere-writer-momo]

Thinking about a yandere werewolf, but not just any werewolf… a bounty hunter. And he has it bad for his you. Cowboy Werewolf!

Yandere Shorts: Like I Love You

Yandere werewolf x fem reader

TW: obsession, delusional themes, abo dynamic, horror, gore (mentioned), death of characters, neglectful husband, betrayal, cheating husband, forced relationship, mention of baby trapping, and behavior that should not be romanticized

Rolfe was currently on a hunt… his target is a sickly preacher’s, one that should be easy enough. Her own husband had paid him quite the pretty penny to off her. Poor little lamb didn’t stand a chance in the wilderness of this world. Not when she had enemies close to her side such as an unfaithful husband and a conniving best friend. He almost felt sorry for his prey

He arrived a day later, his clawed fingers dragged through a lock of her hair as he inhaled her scent. She smelled… delicious. And she was so vulnerable too with her nape out that just begged for his teeth to be driven into…

Rolfe shook his head before he went back into a trance when she subconsciously leaned into his touch. His hand moved up and grazed her temple that felt as if it were ablaze. Poor woman had a fever…

“Darling? Did you finally come to me?” Her voice was a bit delirious with sickness as she kissed his hands. Each kiss made him feel as if he was her beloved. It took everything in him not to loudly whine like a dog. “I missed you so much James. I’m sorry I got sick again.”

Rolfe didn’t say a word before he continued to drag his rough palms through her hair. His heart hammered in his chest and his wolf clawed inside his brain to be released. It seemed this woman before him… was his fated mate.”

Rolfe bent down and buried his nose into the crook of her neck to deeply inhaled. Oh yes… this lassy was his for the takin.

Rolfe began to slowly nurse her back to health rather than off her. An action that made his employer question him. Why on earth would a monster nurse such a nuisance back to health? She was always near death’s door. What use was such a delicate woman in the Wild West?

“When are you going to off (your name)? She’s an easy target.”

“I have honor as a bounty hunter. It must be a hunt.” Rolfe snarled at (your name)’s husband, James, the man who dared to keep her sick due to his lack of care. Had that scrawny man have no pride as a man? The pastor made him sick.

“She’s easy to pick off right now. I’d really like this to be over and done with so I can marry Helen. This is why I hired a monster-“ Rolfe picked James up from the ground by his throat as James gasped for air.

“You are a foolish, greedy man. Are you sure you are truly a man of god?” Rolfe growled, showing his fangs. His dark, muscular form largely towered over James’s lithe frame. “You’re a pathetic man.”

Rolfe soon went back to the care of (your name). The werewolf rubbed his cheeks all over her bed and her body to scent her… he needed to get rid of James’s scent. Rolfe wouldn’t let another have her and hurt her again… he’d spirit her away.

Rolfe wondered how many pups she’d want. If they’d be pretty like her but strong like him… if she’d pepper him with nips and kisses everyday. If she’d beg him for his knot on the next full moon as he properly mated her?

“Darling?” (Your name) reached for his face and Rolfe was quick to put his face in them. A needy whine escaped his throat while he nuzzled her. She was his precious mate…

He snarled when he saw Helen enter. The woman scoffed at him in disgust.

“Ugh. James and I are tired of waiting. You have been here over a month! We want you gone beast. We’ll do it ourselves.”

“So you’re cancelling the contract?” He hummed while he continued to tenderly kiss (your name)‘a palms. “Are you sure? Did you read the fine print?”

“Yes. We don’t need your kind here, true love will prevail-“ Helen didn’t even have time to scream before a giant black wolf hybrid had dug it’s fangs into her throat and ripped it apart like wrapping paper. Blood splattered all over the floor and walls as Helen could only helplessly choke on her own blood.

“Yes… true love will prevail.” He muttered with a a satisfied hum. “My mate will be so happy.”

Meanwhile, James fled into the forest for dear life. That beast had gotten Helen! The two of them couldn’t believe the werewolf would turn on him.

James loudly leapt when he heard something large chase him through the underbrush on all fours. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and feel his sweat pool down his back in puddles. He needed to get to the church! A demon such as the bounty hunter couldn’t possibly enter there-

But James was knocked to the ground as an agonized shriek fell from his lips. The werewolf began to shake and mangle his leg like the bloodthirsty beast it was…

“Let me go! Let me go! I didn’t do anything-“

Rolfe chuckled darkly. The black werewolf dropped his legs and glanced his beastly head at James. “Oh but she never did anything either… all she did was foolishly love you.”

“W-what do you mean? Are you talking about-“ James’s words were muffled by the paw like hand that covered his mouth. Rolfe shushed him.

“Shhh. You may have failed to pay me and cancel my contract but I had gotten something far more valuable from this transaction. Something most werewolves dream to find in their lifetimes… a fated mate!” Rolfe sighed dreamily. “You may have failed as a protector and provider, but I surely won’t! You have given me something more valuable than any coin could offer… yet you were neglectful to her. Such a shame really.”

“I… I’ll do anything! Just take her and let me live.”

“Ah but I can’t do that. Not when she still calls for you at night. No… you have to be eliminated. Destroyed, really. You can no longer exist on the same planet as her! You are in the way of my love!”

Loud screams of terror ringed out throughout the crisp night air and then it was silence.

Rolfe returned hours later scrubbed clean of blood while he crawled into the bed with his darling mate. He sighed in contentment when she cuddled him. Yes… it may take time to train her properly, but he was sure he could do it. He could make her love him. Just like he loved her.

[ddarker-dreams]

lil things that make yan blade go feral:

you tugging on his sleeves to get his attention

when you step on your tiptoes to reach something that's high

how you jump and squeak in surprise when he sneaks up on you

talking back to him over minor disagreements (telling a 6'2 stellaron hunter with a bounty of 8.13 billion credits that you refuse to acknowledge him until you get your phone back takes some Courage)

the mild look of concern you try concealing when he comes back bruised and bloodied

dozing off someplace random (it gives him the excuse to scoop you up and put you into bed)

wearing clothes that are too big on you (he might have a blank face but just know the synapses in his brain are firing away more than they have in a century)

[misstycloud]

Imagine yandere vampire hunter finding out he married one of the creatures he vowed to destroy. The very monster he dedicated his entire life to kill.

“…no..i-it can’t be..” his voice was barely a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear as if he was right next to you.

You stood still in the darkness, your face was a mask of indifference. If you hadn’t been blinking he would have mistook you for a statue. It appeared you’d been careless and let yourself be seen- by him no less. You could still feel the warmth of the blood dripping down you chin; a curtain of red fell down the front of your dress and stained it.

“Please tell me this isn’t real..” your husband let his eyes wander to the soon-lifeless body laying not far away. Small puffs of air was seen coming for the person, indicating they were not yet dead. The disgusting sound of gurgling in one’s own blood sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes met yours, searching for any sort of confirmation that everything was indeed a figment of his imagination.

“It is, I’m afraid.” You said.

He let out a devestatd choke, muttering ‘no’ over and over while shaking his head, clearly in denial.

You reminded yourself not to show any emotion and stepped forward. “I will not lie to you and therefor I will utter the clear truth in front of you. I am a vampire.”

“No, no you’re not.” He refused to believe it. If it had been his friend, he would prioritise duty before friendship. If it was his brother, he would do the same. Even if it was his own parents, he would die before letting insensible things such as emotions to come in the way of doing what is right. But this was different. It was you. It can’t be you. It could never be you.

But it was. Clearly. The evidence- the body- was right in front of him, unblinking and unmoving.

“You cannot look away from what is in front of you-“

“Stop saying that!” He suddenly shouted, surprising you with the sudden change in tone. “You can’t be one of….them.” He expressed in great repulsion.

Despite knowing how evil your kind is, you still though of yourself as quite good- well, as good as you can be when you’re a blood sucking, murderous creature of the night. So your husbands disdain awoke some sort of defensiveness in you.

“Wel, I am. And I have been for a while now.”

He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “how long? How long have you been a…a vampire?” He furrowed his brow at the end, not believing he’d ever connect ‘you’ and the word ‘vampire’ in his life.

“36 years. Not as long as some others, but it should still count as something.”

“Oh god..”

It meant that you were one since the start- no before- your marriage. Was he truly that blind? Had love taken such hold of him that he could no longer do his job properly?

How many vampires had he killed during you union? All that while simultaneously being wed to one himself. While loving one, caring for one and even making passionate love to one. It was like some fucked-up punishment tailor-made for him.

He knew what he had to do.

The first tear fell down his cheek, betraying his stern expression and showcasing his endless sorrow. “You are evil,” he raised his crossbow, “and now you have to be judged for your crimes.” How ironic of him to talk about committing crimes of slaughter as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same. He wasn’t stupid, not all immortals were pure darkness, it wasn’t that simple. They do what they have to in order to survive. Only some killed more than they had to. Still, it didn’t change the fact that they all need to be destroyed.

Your eyes widened when he pointed the weapon straight at you. You expected this. Of course he would kill you. However, a part of you could not stop from hoping he wouldn’t think of you as a monster. That perhaps you’d finally find somewhere you can call home and be accepted for what you are. It was a naive dream. Weren’t you his wife before you were a monster? Apparently not, because an arrow shot at you at incredible speed. It hit you in the arm and you cried out in pain.

While you had physical advantages, it doesn’t mean you are immune to pain.

Ripping it out, you studied the black liquid staining it. Your husband swore and immediately prepared to launch another. You felt your fangs grow in length and you hissed at him. Throwing yourself at him the two of you rolled around on the floor, each trying to restrain the other. You managed to get ahold of his crossbow and threw it away form his reach.

Your husband quickly dug into his pockets to grab a dagger, and tried to stab you. Luckily you stopped him in time, fighting him with your vampiric strength. You had to give it to him, he was surprisingly strong for a human. Despite you having supernatural gifts, he was definitely a match and you had a hard time holding you down. If it was any other situation you would have been impressed and rather seduced by his sheer strength, unfortunately this was not a good situation for you.

You leaned down, planning to bite him, but his fast reflexes let him use his free arm to keep you at a distance. He was now on the floor with you straddling him and trying with all your might to end his life.

Your husband knocked your heads together which was the distraction he needed to kick you off of him. You clenched you forehead in pain and backed away. But there was no more time to dwell on that pain, because it was minor compared to what you felt next. Agony was in your side, accompanied by the dagger you had previously defended yourself against.

Your lover was close. Enough for you to feel his breath, and enough for you to see tears running down his regretful face.

“Why was it you?”

Whether he referred to you being a vampire or you being the one he married, you did not know. It hardly mattered anyway.

In a way, you did love your husband. It was probably not in the normal spousal way but it was there. Maybe if you weren’t a blood-sucker you two would have been truly happy together. Too bad fate had other plans. Even though it was true that you were probably evil, you wanted to live. And despite the one threatening your existence was none other than the man who’d showed you the devotion and love you thought you’d never find again, this was not where you wanted it to end.

With a shriek, you used all your power to push him as hard as you could. He flew backwards into the wall. You supposed he’d fainted from the force since he wasn’t making any move to get up. You clutched your side and groaned. You had to get out of there; somewhere safe.

You stumbled to the window and put your foot on the ledge. The dagger he’d stabbed you with must be silver, otherwise it wouldn’t have made as much damage. The wound in your side burned and sizzled with pain. You had no idea if your body would be able to fully heal you in time for when you need blood again- or even at all.

“Ugh….”

You heard a cough from behind you. It was your dearest. He must be sturdier than he looks to have woken up so quickly. He had rolled over to lay on his stomach and had his arms pathetically stretched in your direction.

“D-don’t go.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “What, so you can finally finish me off?”

He whimpered pathetically, “ N-no, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that- why did I do that?” The last part appeared to be a criticism on himself. Nevertheless he continued, “please, I won’t do it again. I was wrong, you’re not evil I know that, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry, please..”

A frown adorned your face. “It’s okay. I’m not evil, but I know I’m far from good- I’m not that delusional.” Then you turned back to the view of the outside world.

“Wait, no-“

“I have to go. I really mean it when I say this, ‘thank you for all these years together, they have been the happiest days I am now able to remember’.

“My love, don’t-“

You ignored his pleas as you jumped from the window. You landed in the dirt outside. You looked back at the house which you’d just escaped from and as you prepared to run off to another town and build up a new life (until you’d eventually have to run again) you listened to the scream of the man who’d been your husband for six years.

What was he screaming? What else if not your name.

-