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Numb to the Feeling.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Synopsis: Counting down the minutes until the new year starts with your captor is as fun as you expected.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, and some not SFW implications.

Word Count: 550.

*~*~*~*

“You should learn to indulge yourself every once in a while, dearest.”

“Perhaps you should learn to not do so very often.”

The devil incarnate simply puts down your still-full glass of wine on the table where it was originally placed by him an hour prior. Every time he tries to convince you to take a sip, you attempt to scurry off, but every successful attempt comes to an end when Chrollo either pats the seat beside him on the couch, you ask him a question, or he asks you. Most of the time it is the first or third possibility, but a few times tonight it was you who sparked conversations.

But each time the smirk on his face appears like a demon summoned from a bloody ritual, you reconsider ever opening your mouth.

“You only live once.”

“Is your life really a concern of mine?” You mutter. “I don’t care where you go. Hell, heaven, the Underworld, the bottom of the ocean, or an empty pit, it does not matter.”

“That was not what I meant.” Chrollo chuckles, putting one of his legs over the other.

“I don’t care. As long as I tell the truth, I should be rewarded and not scolded.”

You do not speak with him for about a minute, a new record of Chrollo being quiet for once. You begin to calm down when his voice grates your ears once more.

“If that is what you think, then shouldn’t I be rewarded for providing sweet nothings to you every morning? Even though they are not necessarily what you want to hear, they are indeed the truth, [First].” The anticipation of a partially peaceful night spent somewhat eagerly awaiting the dawn of a new year, fades away as his hand delicately rests upon the silky surface of one of your thighs, prompting an ungraceful squeal to escape your lips. “It would be horrible if you choose to be a hypocrite and not give me due compensation for all the time I spend with you.”

“Shut up, will you–”

Once more, a small sound escapes you as he tightens his grip on your thigh, this time with greater intensity. His gaze shifts to the television, where the countdown clock displays a mere sixty seconds until the dawn of the new year. The screen depicts a bustling crowd surrounding a towering structure, eagerly anticipating the descent of a ball accompanied by cascading confetti. Amidst this scene, you wonder: are your loved ones among those faces, or do they persist in their search for you, even after the passage of countless moments?

Although his smile, with its undeniable charm, is directed at you again, it lacks any trace of benevolence. “I want a kiss when the countdown reaches zero as a celebratory gift.”

With a piercing gaze, you await his response, yet he wastes no time in reminding you of his menacing promise.

As he inches closer, you instinctively retreat, yet the couch's armrest halts your further retreat.

“After all, I was so kind as to give you your television privileges back… perhaps if you give me more than a kiss, you can win back some others.”

The relentless march toward zero in the countdown is reminiscent of the descent of a guillotine's blade.

I already knew what he meant but honestly I would’ve still picked options two because one suggests he takes my ability AND I still gotta stay. At least option two I get dick🤷🏽‍♀️

Binding Vow

This is purely self-indulgent because I was consumed with the idea of Chrollo and specifically, Yandere!Chrollo. So here it goes. This is filthy and Chrollo is unhinged. Nothing new.

Read on AO3

I do not condone this behaviour in real life. This is purely fictional. Please read warnings and avoid if any of them are triggering to you.

Warnings: Yandere Chrollo, dom Chrollo, coercion, dub con (I mean it), psychological manipulation, kidnapping, captivity, possessiveness, obsession, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, praise, slight humiliation kink

Summary: Abducted because Chrollo could not steal your Nen ability, you are ready to give in and trade your power for your freedom. But the choices Chrollo decides to lay in front of you are wholly different. One would say, the illusion of choice. You make him swear a vow to let you go as you make your choice. But one should pay close attention to the words used in a binding vow...

Word count: 7k

One would think so many candles would be a fire hazard, to be frank. They were everywhere, on every wooden surface, on every shelf that wasn’t overcome with books of all sizes with leather spines, on the nightstands and even on the ground. It was as though the leader of the Phantom Troupe had an obsession with a certain type of aesthetic, and would not refrain from littering his surroundings with candles every time he found a new place where his gang could crash. Perhaps, he had a candle for every person he had ever killed.

Though you supposed one would lose count after a while.

If you were to ingratiate him, you knew what he would appreciate having as a gift; although who needed gifts when your profession was stealing whatever you wanted, whatever thing you had a passing whim for?

As far as you were aware, you were the last passing whim Chrollo Lucilfer had stolen. You had known of his power to steal abilities, and even though you had tried to escape when the Troupe had come to abduct you, it seemed he hadn’t been successful in stealing your power. Yet.

Your Nen power wasn’t meant to fight, really, so the possibility of forcing your way through the Troupe had been preposterous. Your ability was that of having regenerative power, to the point where you could heal fatal wounds to yourself and others. He obviously must have wanted it for himself, and you hadn’t exactly had any way of escaping his wishes.

After a month of captivity, though, you weren’t sure you could bear it for much longer. If all he wanted was your power, why not let him “borrow” it, as he so nonchalantly put it? So you could go back to your own life, so you didn’t have to be locked up in that house, so that he would let you go? Would he even let you go, if you gave him the ability? Or would he want to tie loose ends and get rid of you? You shuddered in the cold air of the bedroom you had been confined to in his absence. 

He had left you to your own devices that day for the entirety of the morning, whilst he had spent all his time with you previously. Studying you, asking you questions, letting you know between the lines that he knew who you were, who your loved ones were, where they lived. He had called you a “treasured guest” in the same sentence, with such audacity that you had been left stunned at the complete lack of morals that man had.

But then again, he also seemed to have some twisted attraction to you. They did say the forbidden fruit was always the sweetest, and because you knew of his power, he couldn’t get to your Nen ability if you did not reveal how it worked and fulfilled his conditions. In the last two weeks, he had taken to something you could only define as an attempt at seduction.

He would sit with you in the living room, inviting you to get closer to him, reassuring you he had no intentions of harming you. He would stare at you with those stormy eyes of his that seemed to burn through you like electricity, and his gaze would rake over your body like he was appraising some kind of rare, expensive object he planned to take for himself. Which he probably was.

Despite knowing who he was, despite knowing how sticky with blood his hands were, you were only a fallible human. And he was... a murderer, a manipulator, a thief; and he was also cunning, intuitive, soft-spoken, caring with you in a sick way, and the most handsome man you had ever met. Despite all of your efforts, it was not possible to deny the effect he had on you. And it was not possible to hide it from him. Observant as he was, obsessed as he was with watching your every reaction, every little twitch of your body, every time your breath faltered when he was too close, every time he commented casually how your pupils were widening, every time his long, willowy fingers grazed your skin, he could see all of it. And all of it was a twisted game of cat and mouse to him.

Another heist, another plot to strategise and accomplish. He was always composed, always neutral, if not for his sly looks, wily smirks and piercing eyes. He always seemed to have the upper hand. It did not matter that he did not have your power, he seemed to be a patient man.

Until that day.

You had assumed he was waiting for you to break by keeping you captive, although treated with enough civility and never physically harmed, because he had not mentioned wanting your Nen power since the one time he had told you he wished to borrow it. In your mind, he was simply determined to stir the pot and then leave you to stew in it for a while, knowing at some point, your desire for freedom would overcome your attachment to your ability. Letting you run your mind wild with suppositions and conjectures that led nowhere as you tried to analyse his reasons and predict his behaviour. And it was working. You were almost done with it. If he asked you to choose between your power and your freedom, you knew what you would pick.

When he came back from whatever the hell he’d been doing that morning, his appearance was pristine. He was wearing his hair down, no headband in sight, a white shirt with the first two buttons undone and smart black trousers. All in all, he was the picture of what you could only define as sex appeal and sophistication mixed together in a heady blur of sharp eyes, chiselled, angular features and a mellow voice that still managed to sting.

He unlocked your door using a Nen ability he’d probably also stolen and closed it behind him, smiling softly at you as he appraised you.

‘Hello, darling. I hope you did not feel too lonely without my company’ he said easily, conversationally. You disliked the pet names he had started to throw at you in the last two weeks. They made it seem like there was more to this relationship than a prisoner and their warden. More he wanted. But not your ability. No. You. And it made your stomach churn every time. 

You decided to ignore him, because what else could you do? You were locked in a room with him, with no escape, and you had been held captive for a month now. What could possibly make it worse than it already was?

But you were so very naïve. You should have paid heed to his shrewd grey eyes, to the way his lips twitched as though he delighted in knowing something you didn’t, in watching you rack your brains in trying to figure him out.

You had been so naïve in thinking that he had kidnapped you and held you captive to steal your ability. After all, he could torture it out of you. 

Did he just enjoy the game? What did he want? Was there another condition that needed you to be willing to share it with him? That must have been it. He needed you to give it to him willingly, that was why he was going after your mental sanity instead of torturing it out of you.

‘You seem quite tense. Sit with me. I have a proposition for you’ he said, gracefully stepping to your side, brushing his fingers on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine just as your nose caught a whiff of his expensive cologne. His scent was just as intoxicating as he was, something masculine yet refined, a blend that made your lower stomach hot. You fought to keep eye contact as he sat on the plush loveseat by the fireplace, tapping the empty space right next to him, his eyes boring into you with curious amusement. 

You grimaced, feeling weak and dizzy as you sat down on the armchair, the only other surface available to you aside from the bed and the loveseat, which was out of the question. Chrollo’s lips twitched in amusement, his eyes glinting with interest as he rested his cheek against his fist. 

‘I have a few choices for you. I assume you are quite unsatisfied with your current predicament, therefore, I am giving you the chance to escape all the doubt that must be swarming your mind by now’ he said calmly, that little smirk still on his lips. You did not give way to hope. You did not lower your guard. Thieves did not return goods. If they got rid of them, it was after getting something else in return. So what was he playing at? What was his angle?

‘Your distrust is quite strong, dearest. You should learn to hide your emotions more, if you plan to attempt to play me. Though I must admit the thought of it is quite thrilling. So feel free to try it. Your first choice is to give me your Nen ability in exchange for the end of this predicament. Your second choice is to give yourself to me now. I trust you understand the meaning behind my words. If that is your choice, you can start by getting up and walking over here’ he said, smoothly, easily, seductively, his eyes mischievous. 

You blinked, swallowing heavily, your lips parting. He… was making you choose between your Nen ability or having sex with him in exchange for your freedom? The choice was not really that. It was an illusion of it. Perhaps he merely sought to humiliate you, because of course, the reasonable choice would be to get it over and done with, have sex with him just that once and walk away with your life and your ability intact. Who in their right mind would pick the first choice? 

He was hot, charming, attractive. So long as you could separate the part of you that knew what he was, what he did, and the shame that came with prostituting yourself to your captor, it would not be that bad. It would be over quickly, you only had to focus on his physical attributes, shut out his horrid persona.

‘You want me to prostitute myself to you’ you said, your cheeks burning with humiliation. He let out a wilful sigh. 

‘That is an uncouth appraisal of it. It is quite clear from your reactions to me that you desire me, too. Is that prostitution? More of a mutual desire, I’d wager. Rather a small price to pay to retain your power, is it not?’ he asked, smiling sweetly, smugly. You ground your jaw, your whole face feeling hot, your eyes stinging with the embarrassment of your current predicament, as he loved to call your captivity.

‘Why would I want to... have sex with someone like you? A... murderer- a thief, a kidnapper?’ you spat, repulsed, sitting rigidly in the armchair, quite the opposite picture to his nonchalant lounging. He let out a soft laugh.

‘Oh, darling. Are you pretending to have steadfast morals now?’ he crooned, voice soft and mellow. Completely unbothered by your accusations.

‘What are you trying to imply?’ you chewed on the corner of your bottom lip, a movement he followed with a hint of ravenousness in his silvery eyes.

‘Your morals seem somewhat flexible to me. You have been eating food paid with stolen money for a month, sleeping in a stolen mansion, wearing stolen clothes. I trust you were clever enough to know this from the beginning of your sojourn here’ he said casually, seeming almost enthusiastic about debunking every argument you could bring to the table. It was as though he found pleasure in discrediting your beliefs and making you vacillate. Perhaps it stroked his ego.

 ‘I had no choice about sleeping here. Should I have starved? Should I have wandered around naked for a month?’ you snapped, regretting your words immediately when you saw him look at you so intensely. As though he was undressing you himself with his eyes.

‘Well, you certainly could have tried to starve yourself. I would have admired your efforts to cling to your pride and ethical dilemma, and you would not be in this moral conundrum now if you had. You would be able to blame me for it. As to your last point, that would have certainly been a sight. Again, the choice was there. I would not have stopped you’ he said slyly, his voice getting lower and more seductive, like a caress on your spine. You bristled.

‘Those are not choices. Like these aren’t’ you pressed, and he sighed, still smiling like nothing could make him waver.

‘Are they not? You have two paths before you. Every human being is offered choices. Now, be a darling and make one. What will you choose?’ he mused. You closed your eyes, your fingers curling on the fabric of your skirt.

‘You will not steal my power if I- give my body to you now. Right?’ you asked slowly, trying to find a loophole in his words.

‘I will not. If you choose to indulge me now, I will not steal your power’ he said. You gulped. You did not want him to lose his patience and take away your opportunity. You also wanted his word that you would be let out alive and unharmed.

‘And this- this predicament will be done once I do that too. You will not kill me- nor harm me after that. I will be allowed to leave this place alive’ you said cautiously, weighing your words. He smiled.

‘Of course. In order to ease your worries, why don’t I make a vow with you? A condition, if you will. And if I break it, I will die. If this is your choice, and you want reassurance before you continue with it, I will of course be willing to ease your worries. Stand up and come closer’ he said, and you tried not to show your relief. If he was promising, there was nothing to worry about. You could do this, keep your life and your well-being, leave with your power. It was not a bad deal. Not a bad deal at all. You should be happy that he seemed to be attracted to you. That he was even giving you a choice in the matter.

You slowly got up, and your legs felt weak as you stepped closer to him, feeling like his gaze was burning through you. You stopped in front of him, tense like a violin string as a grimoire appeared in his hand.

‘Sit on my lap, darling’ he murmured, and you found yourself feeling all kinds of things in your body, from nerve-wracking anxiety to butterflies in your stomach to warmth in your gut and weakness in your legs. You inched closer to him, gingerly sitting sideways on his lap.

You were immediately engulfed by his enthralling cologne, and his arm wrapped around you, fingers curling on your waist to keep you in place. You squirmed, gulping when he dipped his head to breathe against your neck, making goosebumps appear on your exposed skin.

‘Your scent is intoxicating, dearest’ he breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear to expose the side of your face to him. You could not deny how seductive he could be, how tantalising his touch felt. But you would not be swayed from the promise he’d made.

‘The vow first’ you said somewhat nervously, and he smiled, nodding and keeping an arm around your torso as he picked up his book of stolen abilities and flicked through it, stopping in front of a binding vow.

‘Now, I vow that I will not make your Nen ability mine and steal it from you. It will remain yours. I vow I will not kill you, nor will I ask anyone else to do so for me. Should you respect the terms I have presented to you, you will leave this place unscathed within a day, with your power still in your hands. Should I fail to respect these terms, I will die on the spot. Do you accept?’ he said, and you tried to find any loophole that would allow him to kill you or steal your ability in his words, even though his fingers stroking your ribcage were distracting, but you could not find anything. You nodded.

‘I accept’ you said, and he picked up a small dagger from his pocket, shushing you when you gasped and tried to get away. He pricked his thumb, showing you the small droplet of blood that was forming on the surface of his skin.

‘I won’t hurt you. I just need a drop of your blood. Your hand, if you will, darling. Or the vow won’t work’ he said, and you gingerly let him lift one of your hands and prick your thumb. He pressed yours against his, and you could see the aura surrounding your fingers working. You relaxed a little when he threw the dagger away, supposedly letting it pierce the wood of the highest bookshelf so you could not reach it in an attempt to attack him.

He wiped your thumb and his with a handkerchief, tossing it on the table and letting the grimoire disappear.

‘I hope I was successful in easing your worries. Now, where were we?’ he murmured, round, pretty eyes heavy-lidded, lust-laden as they scanned your face. You felt as though you were in the lion’s den for the first time, or more fittingly, a small butterfly trapped in a spider web. Just waiting to be devoured.

He cupped your jaw, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, leisurely taking his time in savouring you. Part of you wished he would just get it over and done with, another part of you, a shameful one, burnt at every action he took, at his stifling seduction. You might as well enjoy it and hope he was good at the very least, right? No one could blame you for it. Your survival was at stake, after all.

You stopped thinking altogether when his lips grazed your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips. He was slow and sensual in all of his movements, but there was something that slipped through the façade, something possessive about the way his fingers curled around your throat, trapping you in place as his lips pressed against yours.

They were soft. Soft and smooth, warm and demanding. You could not deny the pull they had. You were coaxed into seeking them out whenever he pulled away slightly, pressing them against you again, more and more passionately each time, almost manipulating you into wanting him to get rougher.

And he did. His teeth sank into the pliant flesh of your bottom lip, pulling lightly, and his tongue was quick to soothe the sting, taking advantage of your little gasp to slip in your mouth and lay siege on your tongue. It was all akin to a game of pull and push with him. He wheedled you into letting go more and more with each time he gave you something only to take it away and revel in how you sought it again. Just as he had presented the illusion of you wanting this from him, he was now making you act on it as though you had always desired nothing more.

Until your fingers were tangled in his soft raven hair, pulling lightly at it, and you were seeking his soft lips and their taste reminiscent of rich red wine to suck on his bottom lip languidly. Until his teeth nipping at your bottom lip had you mewl in his mouth.

‘Eager, are we? How sweet’ he breathed, and you felt the trap snap, the mechanism trapping you like a helpless doe caught by pincers. All of his teasing had led to this, to making you see that you wanted him, wanted this to happen. And as much as you could deny it, your actions spoke loudly, and your body’s reaction did too. The knowledge that you were already turned on and that if he decided to reach between your thighs he would see just how responsive you were to him made the mortification burn in your chest.

You had wanted to keep your dignity and show your distaste for what was happening, but he had managed to reduce you to a docile doll just by kissing your lips. And his sardonic smile and eyes told you that you were right in that assumption.

And before you could hope to collect yourself, his mouth was on your throat, hungry but still slow, leaving you wanting more. He licked a long stripe along your pulse, making it shoot up as his fingers curled around the roots of your hair and pulled, exposing your vulnerable neck to him. You could not restrain the whimper that escaped you as he kissed and started sucking a sensitive spot between your neck and your shoulder, sure to leave a mark to remind you of what you had done, of your flexible morals, as he’d called them.

His fingers clutched your side, wandered down to your hip and the swell of your ass, grazed your thigh and snaked under your skirt to grope at the plump flesh of your backside. You were too lost in the pleasure of his mouth and tongue on your throat to truly consider your situation and who it was that was touching you so possessively, so greedily. If anything, it only stoked the fire within you.

‘Good girl’ he crooned, sending a jolt to your clit with the dirty praise. You squirmed on his lap, eliciting a soft chuckle from him and a graze of his thumb over your stiff nipple. You were wearing a simple satin shirt with a flimsy bralette, and the friction of the material was torturous against your nipples.

Chrollo pulled the shirt out of your skirt, making quick work of the buttons with one hand whilst the other was still kneading your ass and his mouth was still on your throat. He slipped the garment off you, pulling away to observe you. You gulped, averting your eyes at the sight of his hungry stare, quivering as his fingers ghosted your sternum, your ribcage, the swell of your breasts.

‘You are so beautiful, darling’ he murmured, his lips softly pressing against your collarbone, his fingers deftly lowering the straps of your bralette and unhooking it. He tossed it aside, groaning softly as his hand cupped your breast, kneading it in his fingers, pinching your nipple and rolling it between thumb and index finger.

You tried to stifle a moan, to which he seemed to take offense, because he stopped and bit down hard on your shoulder, making you whine in the process.

‘I want to hear you. The more you stifle your voice, the longer I will tease you. Understood?’ he said, and you meekly nodded, only to speak up when he gave you a meaningful glance.

‘Yes’ you hissed, and he seemed pleased, because he hummed and made you arch your back so that his tongue could lick your stiff nipple and flick it. You were careful not to stifle the small whine that left your lips, and he rewarded you by sucking your nipple in his mouth, scraping it with his teeth and making you cling onto his shoulders.

He bunched up your skirt up to your waist, leaving you exposed as he trailed his fingers to your inner thighs, in a silent request to spread your legs. You were not wholly aware of how swiftly you complied, you only knew that when he first cupped you through your panties, your eyelids fluttered and a soft moan poured out of you.

‘You are soaked for me, pet. Your morals do not seem to extend to your body. Try as you might, you want this, and you cannot lie to me’ he purred, dragging his fingers and pressing against your clit, holding you still when you squirmed away from his touch. You let out a loud moan, your hips jerking. He pulled your panties to the side, rubbing your clit and dipping two fingers inside you, curling them, making your head drop on his shoulder as you moaned against his neck, enveloped by the scent of his cologne.

‘That’s it. That’s my good girl. If I knew how much you liked being fingered on my lap, I would have done this much sooner. No matter. I’ll make it up to you, darling’ he breathed, voice slightly strained as though he was holding back something much more primal from taking over, but you were too dazed to take much notice of all the filth he was spewing and how he sought to humiliate you further, because his touch admittedly felt like heaven. His willowy fingers inside you kept pressing against all the right places, and you could not help but clench around them, your hips twitching into his hand every time his palm rubbed against your sensitive clit.

You were lost in the motion of his fingers as you rutted against his hand, shamelessly chasing your own high as he continued to praise you and kiss you, rewarding every sound you made with a curl of his fingers that had you melting in his arms. Until you could not take it anymore.

‘Can’t- ‘m close’ you huffed out, breathing erratic, chest heaving as his fingers pumped inside you, and he hummed, licking your neck and sucking on it again.

‘Cum for me, pet’ he urged, and your eyes scrunched up, a lewd moan ripping through you as you tensed up on his thigh, sound fading away as you came undone.

You slumped on him, breathing heavily, your cunt throbbing around his fingers as he lazily fucked you through your aftershocks, your hair clinging to the back of your neck from the light sheen of sweat that had formed there.

‘Suck’ you heard, and dazed as you were, you obediently opened your mouth when he presented his fingers, sucking and licking the pads of his fingers, tasting yourself. You had to cling to him as he stood up and walked over to the bed, lowering you on it and observing you as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.

There was no denying it, he was attractive. Lean but toned, with graceful abs adorning his flat stomach, jutting collarbones and well-defined biceps; with the way the candlelight danced on his pale skin, making it glow with soft orange hues, he truly looked like he might be a fantasy of sorts.

You supposed he looked like a fallen angel, as his name suggested. Like the Alexandre Cabanel painting of the fallen angel, dangerous but so tempting. It was unfair that he should also be able to make you come undone so easily, when you had vowed to not give him the satisfaction.

He smirked at you, undoing his belt, slipping it through the hooks, catching you staring first at the clear dampness on his thigh, then at the evident bulge of his erection.

You supposed he would fuck you now. If you were being honest, you had thought he wouldn’t have taken such interest in your pleasure, but now, it seemed only fitting: it was all to aid his game, to stroke his ego in humiliating you by showing you how you could not abide by your morals, how you’d moaned and whined to be touched by those blood-stained hands.

Instead, he kept his trousers on, only going so far as to unbutton them to give himself more space. He seemed... quite gifted in that area too, you thought with a grimace. Was there anything that did not favour him? It seemed that fortune graced the wicked in that nonsensical world, because he had it all.

He caged you underneath him, his hair tickling your face as he drew you into a heated kiss, his hands roving down your body, fingertips digging into your hips, tongue pressing against yours.

He was quick to unzip your skirt and slide it off you along with your panties, leaving you completely exposed whilst he still retained his power by not undressing completely.

‘You were so precious squirming on my lap, so good for me. You deserve a reward’ he crooned against your ear in that soft, melodious voice of his, making you swallow heavily as you wondered what he might do to you now.

He did not leave you guessing for long. His mouth traced your collarbone, his head lowering as he licked your sternum and left a dark lovebite above your nipple, another reminder that would bring you back to this room, to what he was doing to you for the following week. He seemed intent on marking you whenever he could, and until he had littered your chest with purple brushstrokes, until you were but a moaning mess, he refused to move on, no matter how much you tried to squirm away and whimper at some of the harshest ones on your ribcage.

He continued to kiss down your stomach, massaging your thighs, cupping your ass and lowering his head to kiss your thighs. You were rendered breathless and unable to stop thrashing and moaning as he sucked another lovebite on your inner thigh, keeping you pinned down and at his mercy. You just wanted him to bury his head between your thighs, you were close, close to begging for it, were it not for your pride. Were it not for who he was.

Fortunately, you did not need to stoop that low. His tongue flattened and dragged up your cunt, tensing and flicking your clit from underneath as he got to the top, tearing a breathless moan from you.

‘You taste so sweet’ he huffed out against your skin, blowing cold air on your clit and making you whine and scoot away. He dragged you back, a wicked light in his stormy eyes as he glanced at you and licked your clit, rolling it on his tongue.

‘F-fuck’ you breathed, your hands shooting to his hair, pulling lightly, trying to ground yourself as he continued to toy with your clit, sucking it and licking it fervently. You could not hold yourself. If he was amazing with his fingers, he was incredible with his tongue. Judging by how he seemed to have a way with words, you should not have been surprised that he was so maddeningly good at pleasuring with his tongue. It was making you lose your mind.

Even if you had tried, you would not have been able to restrain the need to keen, whine and moan every time he sucked your clit, dipped his tongue inside you or drew figures around your clit.

He was insatiable as he flung your thighs on his shoulders, seemingly unbothered with the way you trapped his head and rutted against his face. In fact, he seemed thrilled to follow the movement of your hips, giving you more and more until you were babbling and keening incoherently, unable to even speak.

‘Fuck- Ch- Chrollo...’ you whined longingly, unable to realise your slip of moaning his name in the throes of pleasure. But he heard you loud and clear, because he groaned, and his name on your lips only seemed to spur him on. In a few seconds, he was sucking on your clit, giving you more pleasure than you’d ever thought was even possible, until the torturous knot in your stomach snapped and released and you came with a cry, tears prickling the corners of your eyes, your hair tousled and messy on the pillow, your muscles tensing, toes curling and fingers clawing at the sheets.

You kept your eyes closed for a while, easing into your breathing, feeling as though your body had completely melted, feeling as though you couldn’t even move.

‘You can still take my cock, can’t you, darling? After all, I have made you feel so good. It’s only fair. Do not worry, you will not mind. You seem to love being fucked by the one you spoke of with such revulsion. It’s quite endearing, watching you struggle with your morals’ he crooned, and you opened your eyes, watching him stroke his cock a few times. It was quite long and fairly thick, slightly tilted upwards.

You were too fucked out to consider his taunting, but you knew he was right. Both mindsets could not peacefully coexist in your mind: how could you be so willing and find so much pleasure in someone like him? How could you hate him and love what he was doing to you? It might have been an involuntary physical reaction, but you should have had more resolve, more restraint. Otherwise, what did that say about you?

Chrollo lined himself between your legs, rubbing his cock along your labia, on your clit, instantly making those thoughts fade in the haze of pleasure as you let out a soft sigh and automatically tried to hook your legs around his slender hips.

He gripped your thigh, pushing the tip of his cock inside you, easily slipping inside inch by inch with how shamefully wet you were, and yet, you already felt so full, like he was stretching you to the limit. You clawed at his back, raking your nails across his shoulder blades, gasping and whimpering along with his soft moan.

‘Fuck. So tight... so wet. Such a perfect little cunt’ he huffed out, his lips parting in pleasure, dark eyebrows furrowing. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to relax your muscles to accommodate his size, clung to his shoulders for support.

He wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, continuing to push inside you, albeit slowly, until he was buried to the hilt. You clenched around him, and the soft groan he let out made your stomach drop with a surge of pleasure. He bottomed out and slammed back in, tearing a broken moan from you as he set a ruthless pace, his eyes darkening with lust and the slip of his mask, hunger palpable in his every movement and the way he sought to fully claim you.

He lifted your legs higher up around his waist, his fingers tightening around your throat, not pressing on the front, leaving you room to breathe but making you even more dizzy than you already were.

His pelvis kept slapping against your clit, drawing out whines and pants from you, and with every thrust, he seemed to grow more accustomed to where you liked to be touched, because as soon as his cock pressed against your g-spot, your back arched and your head thrashed from side to side, a lewd moan echoing in the room as you clamped around him.

‘There, huh? Let me do it again, darling’ he breathed, one hand lifting both your legs and bending them at the knees, letting you rest them against his chest as he rammed into you, hitting the same spot again and again, relentlessly building the pressure inside you, making you see stars.

‘Mhh- too much... Chrollo’ you whined, trapped underneath him, feeling as though you might implode if he didn’t stop- or if he stopped, for what it was worth.

‘Moan my name again, pet. Let me hear how filthy it sounds on your lips’ he grunted, the sound of skin slapping against skin both enticing and dirty as he continued to fuck you into the mattress.

When you didn’t reply, suddenly aware of how you were moaning his name, reinforcing how you knew- wanted it to be him to fuck you at that moment, he let out a breathless laugh.

‘Looks as though you might need some convincing’ he said, slowing down and eventually slipping out of you, letting your legs down. You whimpered, desire clawing at your gut, your cunt clenching around nothing as you opened your bleary eyes and set them on him. He gave you a smirk, flipping you on your stomach and lifting your hips, spreading your knees with his and pushing on your lower back to make you arch into him. You lifted yourself on your elbows and heard his tongue click against his teeth condescendingly before he pushed your head against the mattress and smacked your ass with a resounding slap.

You yelped, biting down on your lower lip, mortification once again mingling with pleasure as he pushed his cock back inside you, letting out a soft groan.

‘Use your hands one more time and I will tie them up behind your back. It will feel better like this. For me- and for you’ he said, fisting your hair and gripping your hip, starting to pound into you from behind once again.

It did feel better like this. Deeper. Unbearable. He stimulated your clit with every thrust, the tip of his cock kept pressing against your cervix, and you did not know if you could bear it much longer.

You found the bridge of your nose damp with tears, and struggled to recognise your own voice in the filthy moans you were letting out. It was humiliating and it was impossibly pleasurable, and the mix was somewhat addicting, tainting. It was ruining every shred of sanity left in your brain.

Until he got what he wanted. Because it seemed as though he always did. He could steal anything, including his name from your lips said with such want and bliss that had you not been fucked stupid, you would have wanted to die.

‘Ahh- Chr- Chrollo! Fuck. Gonna cum’ you screamed, sobbing, clenching around him, getting even closer to a mind-shattering orgasm with every moan and groan he graced you with.

‘Good girl. My girl. Mine. You love this, mh? Tell me how much you love this. Tell me how badly you want to cum all over my cock’ he urged, voice possessive and low, and you could not stop yourself, could not do anything but acquiesce, because you needed- needed to cum.

‘Yes! Please. Please let me cum. Please. Need it so bad’ you whined, sobbed even, desperate for reprieve, hoping he would have mercy on you, hoping he would let you finish. His fingers reached under you to rub at your clit, and you could hardly contain a sob of wild pleasure and the jolt of your hips.

‘Since you asked so nicely. Go on, pet, cum for me’ he huffed out, still thrusting inside you at that unrelenting pace, and as though he had power over your own body, you felt the release hit you like a wave of overwhelming pleasure that made your vision white and your ears fill with static.

He was quick to cum with a breathy moan as you squeezed his cock through your orgasm, holding you tightly as he spilled inside you. He continued to push in and out slowly, until you stopped throbbing and squeezing around him.

‘Fuck’ he breathed, letting you collapse on the bed and doing the same next to you. You both stayed silent for a minute or two, catching your breath, feeling the cool air on your feverish skin.

‘Let me clean you up, darling’ he said, and you didn’t have the strength to object as he got up and walked away, the sound of his footsteps quiet as you kept your eyes closed until he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel, his trousers back on, but still shirtless. He wiped your inner thighs gently, with more care than you wanted to admit someone like him could be capable of, and carefully lifted you up so you could drink the water he’d brought you.

You took small gulps, finding it felt amazing trickling down your dry, raw throat after all that crying and screaming. He only put the glass on the nightstand when you had finished it all.

‘Thanks’ you said absent-mindedly, your mind slowly coming back to you in coherent thoughts as you attempted to cover yourself with the duvet. He gave you a languid smile, tucking your hair away from your face and lying next to you.

But it was finally over now. You could leave. Your deal had revealed itself to be better than you wanted to admit, but now, you were finally free. You could put this all behind you.

You tried to get up and gather your clothes, but your body felt like a ragdoll. He had really done a number on you.

‘Careful, dearest. You should wait a little’ he said, smiling at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. You let out a shuddering breath.

‘Want to get... my clothes, and leave’ you said, getting up and hastily putting on your clothes, feeling a little dizzy. You walked back towards the bed, retrieving your underwear and your skirt, putting them on, almost falling were it not for his arms catching you and holding you still.

You felt weird. It had surely been intense, but so intense that your vision was slowly darkening around the edges and your arms and legs felt as heavy as lead?

He pulled you on his lap, and you protested weakly when he started to stroke your hair and kissed your forehead.

‘No- you said I would be free after this. Let me leave’ you slurred, and he shushed you, tenderly stroking your back in soothing gestures.

‘Oh, darling, I never said you would be free’ he said softly, still holding you. You blinked, confused, his face blurry as you stared at him.

‘You said- I’d be leaving this place- with my power... un...scathed within... a day. What d’you do to me?’ your words were garbled together, slurred like you were drunk. And you felt so heavy and tired.

‘I put a few sleeping pills in the water I gave you. Nothing that will harm you, so don’t worry your pretty little head. I don’t need to steal your power if I keep you. You will leave unscathed, but I never said you would leave alone. You should really pay more attention to the words of a vow, my love’ he said, stroking your hair, his soft voice lulling you into sleep despite how horrified you were in your mind. He had tricked you. Had no plans of freeing you. You hadn’t considered he might keep you. Hadn’t considered the depth of his obsession with you. Hadn’t considered there was more than one reason why he had kept you captive.

‘I cannot be parted from you, my love. Your place is by my side. Now close your eyes. Sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us’ he said gently, soothingly. And you could not help but do as he said, your eyelids growing heavier and heavier, your thoughts muddying and fading away along with your consciousness.

I would’ve hella risked that to even without the healing ability. Assuming of course I didn’t know the extent of Chrollo’s abilities, because if I did I’m not much of a “piss off a person who could torture the shit outta you” type of gal

But she was like if I die I die (that’s so real) and tried to dip out, Chrollo really did hit her with some emotional warfare tho

Binding Vow - Part II

Part I here

Read on AO3

This is part II of III :)

Warnings: kidnapping, manipulation, coercion, Stockholm Syndrome, captivity, Chrollo being a manipulative asshole, obsession, slight NSFW

Word count: 6k

The lilies in the vase by the windowsill were starting to wilt. Their petals were drooping, the stems getting darker, the vibrant white of the flowers starting to become ashen. In that way, you were like them. Wilting away in a prison you were forced to call home. 

But Chrollo never let you see them die. No, he brought you new flowers every week, along with all the other gifts he gave you. You did not know which ones were bought and which were stolen. Not that it mattered much. 

His pathetic romanticism fell on deaf ears. He could court you all he liked, but he failed to see in that brilliant brain of his that it would not work after kidnapping someone and holding them prisoners. A golden cage was still a prison, and he could not make the canary sing by locking it away, even if he used his silver tongue on it. 

Sometimes, you did not know whether he was completely oblivious or simply did not care. Every glare of yours, every time you ignored him, shouted at him or even refused to eat- he met all of your attempts at rebelling with a soft sigh and a stoic outlook, telling you he “would wait for your tantrum to quiet down to talk like adults”. Always patronising. He was always so damn condescending. 

Another month had passed since the day Chrollo had tricked you into having sex with him under the guise of letting you go free and then had drugged you and left that house with you. When you had woken up, you were in a new flat, which he told you would serve as a home for the both of you for a couple of months. 

He had reassured you that he would never harm you and that he would protect you, failing to understand you needed protection from him. He had also reminded you that the doors were all locked, and that he knew your life inside out in case you planned to do something foolish. 

The first night in this house, you had screamed your lungs out at him, fighting him, or rather, trying to hit him with all your might whilst he restrained you. In the end, he’d tied you to the bed and told you he would free you once you learnt to be civil. 

Next, you had refused to eat. That lasted until he tried to force feed you, and the humiliation of the act had made you start to eat by yourself again.

After that, you had refused to speak or even look at him. Luckily, he hadn’t tried to force himself on you, but he certainly seemed to want it. He had started to sleep in the same bed as you as soon as you had cut out the screaming and hitting, and no amount of begging had made him change his mind.

“I understand you dislike my approach, but I’m doing this to keep you safe, my love. If you can get past it, you’ll see it’s only natural that we sleep in the same bed. I love having you close to me. You are so peaceful when you sleep” he had said, stroking your upper arms as though the gesture could ever be perceived as soothing. 

You always made a point to fall asleep curled as far away from him as possible, yet, somehow, you always woke up with his arm wrapped around your waist. He was stifling.

Your best moments were the ones where he’d go away to do God knew what for a few hours, or when he would be so immersed in the book he was reading that he would not talk to you for a while. Of course, he would insist on having you sit on his lap as he read, but he had settled for letting you sit with him in the living room where you wanted, which was as far away as possible from him.

You hated to admit it, but when he left, you sometimes could not help but feel lonely. He was the only person you ever saw, the only one you talked to, the only one you could go to in order to find comfort. That fact alone was enough to make your stomach churn. 

But that was all stopping that day. You had decided that one way or another, you would escape. You were on the eighth floor of an apartment complex, but even Chrollo hadn’t been able to find a place that did not have windows. They were locked, of course, but you could break them if you used enough strength. It wasn’t your strong suit, but you had trained a little on your Hatsu to be able to do more damage than your muscles were capable of. And of course, you would get hurt, but it was all for a good cause. If you could make it out, then… then maybe he wouldn’t find you. If you were careful. 

That very day was your best bet. Chrollo had told you he would not be home for supper and had left you some food in the fridge. You packed it and filled several bottles of water, raiding the cupboards of chocolate, biscuits and fruit. You also found some gauze in the bathroom drawer, which you took with you in case you wouldn’t be able to use your Nen power straightaway. 

You had cursed your power for two whole months now, hating that you weren’t an Enhancer, that you weren’t strong or fast at all. Of course, Chrollo would still be stronger, but your chances at escaping would increase. But now, you were glad you had it: if you fell from a few stories, you would be able to heal yourself, so long as you did not die on impact.

Which was why you had gathered every single towel and sheet you could find and created a makeshift rope with tight knots. It was around ten metres, which left fifteen to twenty metres left to jump. You’d found that there was a tree underneath the window of the office, so that was where you decided to escape. 

The glass was thick, and you decided to wrap your hand in a section of your rope and punch it with all your strength. 

It took half an hour and the breaking of your knuckles, which had also split and gotten wounded, but you had managed to stay focused through the pain and heal them before you lost too much blood. 

Now, as to your escape. The window was now broken, and you did your best in creating a wide enough passage where glass would not be likely to cut you or the rope. Next, you looked down to see that no one was around. The apartment complex was situated on the side of a forest surrounding a small town, and the office happened to face the woods. You could not see anyone around.

You had around three hours to escape and get as far away from that place as possible before Chrollo came back. You had to move quickly, find out where you were and then find a way out of there. 

You breathed in, calming your thundering heart and swinging the rope out of the window after tying it to the sofa. It reached ten metres or so from the canopy of the tree beneath the window, which was not ideal, but not too bad either. You stepped on the windowsill, planted your feet and started descending. 

Ten minutes later, you had reached the end of your rope. You swallowed, the wind making your eyes sting and tear up as you looked down. Legs first. You had to either grab a branch with your hands or land on your legs. 

You jumped.

Your hand scraped against the bark, burning and shredding against it. The branch underneath you winded you as you landed on your side, but you managed to break the fall before you hit the ground.

You convulsed on the grass, nausea and cold shivers tearing through your body as you quivered, taking small breaths that had you dizzy from the pain.

Definitely broken ribs. Definitely a broken leg. 

Your trembling hand reached to your side, and you focused on your aura, feeling the pain, mending the bone, healing the damage until it felt like a dull throbbing rather than stabbing, burning agony.

Next was your leg. It took you longer than you wanted to consider to heal all of your injuries, but when you finally got up, you were okay. You could run, even though the numerous cuts on your body had made you lose quite a bit of blood and you felt lightheaded.

You started running. The feeling of hope that bloomed in your heart was quick to burst into euphoria, even though you tried not to lull yourself into false security. Running along the path in the forest felt good, freedom felt like cool breeze, autumn leaves and the faint scent of rain lingering on the ground.  

You must have run more than ten miles by the time you stopped as you got to the edge of the forest. The sun was setting on the horizon, and you wagered Chrollo would be back soon. You probably had another hour before he realised you were gone. Where could you go from here? The hills to your right looked too exposed, but so did the town to your left. He would expect you to be there. But with the amount of blood you’d lost, the fact that you’d been running for hours and the lack of shelter in the hills, you had to go to the town. Maybe you’d find a sheltered place where you could stay for a few hours, before you left again. 

But you never did get to the town. 

Because as soon as you got back on your feet and went to grab your bag, your wrists were caught behind your back in an iron grip. You knew that scent all too well. 

Your heart threatened to burst in your ribcage, and your chest heaved, your eyes widening as you writhed wildly to no avail.

‘If I were you, I would stop thrashing, darling. I am not in a gracious mood’ he murmured against your ear, voice cold, seeping into your bones like ice. You stopped moving altogether, swallowing the heavy lump in your throat.

‘Have you any idea of what that fall could have done to you? You’re covered in blood. Did you break anything in your brilliant escape?’ he continued, and you wet your lips, your temples throbbing. 

Would he kill you now? Would he simply take you back? Would he break some more bones to punish you? Tie you to the bed, or relocate you to a basement? 

‘Answer me. You do not want to make this any worse than it already is’ he said coldly, releasing you and staring at you. You knew trying to make a run for it would be useless. He would catch you in seconds. And who knew what he’d do to you. 

You were done. He’d found you immediately. There was no escaping him. 

‘My knuckles. My ribs- my leg’ you whispered, scanning his face for any clue on what might happen to you. His jaw tightened.

‘So you counted on your power to heal you, disregarding that had you broken your neck, you would not be able to heal. Not quite well-thought out’ he said, a tinge of cold fury in his voice. You ground your teeth, deciding you would go out swinging instead of listening to more of his patronising remarks. 

‘I did not have many options. I ran, because you kidnapped me. I was willing to take the risk’ you spat, and he lifted his chin, looking down at you, seemingly rigid in his posture. 

‘I must say that was a rather inventive plan. I think I might have read about a character doing the same thing in an adventure book once’ he mused, recomposing himself and disregarding your words completely.

‘You clearly cannot care for yourself, darling. Look what you've done to yourself. You are so very fragile. We have much to discuss. Of course, there will be consequences, but you should know I would never hurt you. I simply need you to listen. You can come with me now without a fuss or you can make the situation worse for yourself and risk more dire consequences for your behaviour. Your choice’ he said, looking at you, his eyes softening ever so slightly as you let out a strangled sob. 

Choice. Another choice that was already written in stone.

‘Just let me go. Let me free. Please’ you breathed, resorting to pleading in the face of defeat, hating the fact that you could feel the tears spill from your eyes. He let out a soft sigh, cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You did not know whether you wanted to spit in his face or let him comfort you for something he was guilty of. Because you were so alone, your heart was so wretchedly heavy.

‘Shh, shh. It’s alright, my love. You must be so exhausted. You need to rest. I’ve got you. I’ve got you’ he kissed your forehead, soothing your sobs, and perhaps it was desperation and exhaustion that made you cling to his shirt with trembling fingers. You let all of your tears of frustration, pain, hurt and anger out, sobbing in the arms of the one who had brought them to life. And he was so gentle as he held you. So painfully tender in the way he soothed you, stroking your hair, kissing the top of your head, holding you close to him.

Chrollo bent to pick you up in his arms, and you buried your head against him, not wanting to look at him and accept what you had just done and where he was taking you. What the consequences of your escape would be.

As the temperature started dropping, you found yourself seeking out the warmth of his body, feeling the exhaustion catch up to you quickly. You had finally stopped crying, but your head was pounding and your eyes were raw from the tears.

You saw a car at the edge of the forest, parked behind the building, in front of the tree and your makeshift rope. He opened the door and deposited you on the passenger seat, closing it behind you and getting in on the other side. He reached over and put on your seatbelt, locking the doors and staring at you.

‘Where are we going? What is going to happen to me?’ you asked, voice hoarse from all the crying. Chrollo slicked back the wayward strands of black hair that had escaped his hairstyle, regarding you with a cold expression, if not slightly laced with disappointment.

‘You saw fit to break the window of our flat. I called some people to take care of the mess there and get our stuff whilst I retrieved you. We are going to another place, this one is compromised now. As to you, my love... I do not know what punishment would fit this crime. Your sorrow and your tears have touched me, truly. But I must ensure you learn your lesson. You don’t want this to happen again, do you?’ he asked, turning the keys and starting to drive.

Did you want this to happen again? Of course not. His tone let you know that if you ever did this again, there would be Hell to pay. Who knew what he would do now, you shuddered to imagine what he might think to do if you tried to escape once again.

‘No’ you said quietly.

There was no escaping Chrollo Lucilfer. You had been stupid to think that you could have done so. Drunk on the idea of freedom. He might have said he would never harm you physically, but he hadn’t said anything of the sort about your loved ones. You had learnt that with him, the devil was in the details. He always twisted meanings and played with words like a musician would play an instrument. And there was no escaping his judgement.

Chrollo was not having a nice day. He had had to pull back a heist when Shal had informed him the museum had been tipped off, and had thought he would just get to go home and spend some needed time with his darling girl. He had seriously thought you had made vast progress in your interactions with him. In a mere month, he had managed to mellow you a lot, and even though it had irked him to put up with your foolish tantrums, he had done so patiently, knowing being less strict would eventually aid him in making you come around. You had started to talk to him again, even seemed content to sit with him in the living room to read.

He wasn’t too pleased you never took him up on the offer to sit on his lap, and sometimes, he wanted to pull you against him and hold you there, but he was a patient man, and he understood the perks of patience and strategy.

That was why he had been willing to compromise on not taking everything he wanted yet. He had put boundaries on what was non-negotiable, like sleeping in the same bed. After all, you were his. He had claimed you, given you food, shelter and protection, brought you all kinds of beautiful gifts that reminded him of you, made you feel good. He knew you liked the sex, too. You could not deny it, he remembered all too well how very precious you had looked writhing underneath him, begging and whining for him.

Nevertheless, he was waiting to do it again, simply because you were under the impression you had been tricked by him with the vow you had made, and that had upset you. Understandably so, but the fact that you hadn’t paid enough attention to his words was hardly his fault. However, if he was respectful of your body and did not force himself on you, he knew you would eventually seek him out. He could already see the slivers of your resolve shattering, and it pleased him to no end. The way you now let him kiss the top of your head, flinching less often when he drew you in for a hug or stroked your cheek. It was a chess game, and Chrollo knew he would win.

But now, you’d broken his trust. You’d disappointed him.

When he had come back home, looking for you, thinking you might be asleep or ignoring him as he called your name, and had eventually seen the window shattered and a makeshift rope made of sheets and towels, he had seen red. There was blood spatter on the glass, and the thought of you going so far as to harm yourself in order to escape him had made his stomach hot with rage and his chest tight with worry.

He had inspected the grounds underneath the tree he surmised you had used to break your fall, and he could see some blood, not enough to make you die of blood loss. Some drips had seeped into the blades of grass that led to the woods. Torn between cold fury, worry and admiration for your commendable resolve, for a moment, he had also thought you were truly so delightful. It was so sweet of you to believe you could escape.

He also knew you must have used your power to heal yourself, because he expected you to have broken at least a few bones. Therefore, you must have been lightheaded and weak. A fragile thing like you, alone in the woods, where anyone could easily harm you. He had been worried sick, ready to burn the forest to ashes.

It had taken him twenty minutes to scour the whole forest. When he had found you, you had been panting, holding onto a tree as your gaze shifted between the hills and the small town as though you were considering your course of action. So fragile, so impossibly delicate and fatigued, so oblivious to your surroundings. He hated how you put yourself in danger. Hated that you thought it would be better than being by his side.

Of course, Chrollo knew it was human nature to seek freedom, so he could not fault you for trying. But he was not pleased. You had put yourself in danger and broken his trust.

He had been ready to make you learn your lesson by confining you to a windowless bedroom, never taking his eyes off you, even pay a visit to one of your friends. However, the moment you had started to sob and clung to him, accepting his embrace, seeking him in your sorrow, he had been truly moved. You were truly so sweet in his eyes, so vulnerable, he just wished to hold you and never let you go.

Now, he was not sure what the best course of action would be. Should he be understanding, threaten what would happen if there was another attempt, and bask in your need to be comforted by him? If he happened to be too strict with you, it might halt the progress you’d just made. But if he offered himself as the only one who could soothe your worries and comfort you, then, perhaps, you would become more dependent on him. He wanted nothing more.

But things would have to move more swiftly, because his patience was starting to run out. If he was honest, as he had you back in his car, looking so meek with your tear-stained eyes and torn clothes, he had only wanted to move you to the back of the car and show you just how much he needed you. Just how much you truly liked him. Then, maybe, you would regret your actions. But he had to hold back.

He had nothing but time with you. And your attitude and outlook on your living situation was the most important thing right now. He had to change your perspective, or his work the past month would be ruined just because he had lost his temper after you made a mistake. You could still make things better.

‘Chrollo’ you murmured, wringing your hands in your lap. You rarely called him by his name. You rarely talked to him without him starting the conversation. He loved the way his name sounded on your lips.

‘Mh?’

‘What’s going to happen to me?’ you repeated, small voice haunted. He placed his hand on your thigh, stroking your skin gently as he drove through the empty street.

‘You did something quite upsetting, dearest. You know I would have never forgiven myself if something happened to you. I cannot let anyone, including you, harm you. I cannot trust you now; you understand that, don’t you?’ he asked, voice smooth. A part of him wanted to ask you what you thought a fitting punishment would be. But he did not do well with not knowing what you would say.

‘I won’t try to run again- just... please don’t hurt the people I care about. Please. I’ll do anything’ you said desperately, and Chrollo forced himself to restrain the urge to smile. Now, that was a pleasant development. He could utilise this. Could reap the benefits of your dedication.

‘My love, it pains me that you think me a monster. There would be no reason to visit your past acquaintances if this is a one-time mistake. But how can I trust your word? How can I be certain you will not try to run from me again? That you’ll be my good girl?’ he asked gently, keeping his voice as soft and calm as he could.

Human imagination was truly intriguing. How you had come to that conclusion in your mind, already deeming it a reality, and sought to find a way out of it by offering everything you had. It was truly endearing, and Chrollo had barely had to do anything. And now, if he spared your acquaintances, he would be seen as merciful. You would be grateful. Even though he hadn’t planned to kill them as of yet, deeming it counterproductive for your opinion of him. But if he utilised your fears against you, he could appear as a compassionate source of comfort to you.

‘Because... I know it’s useless. And I don’t want to be the reason they might... get hurt’ you said earnestly, your bottom lip quivering. It made you look so sweet in his eyes. So innocent and pure. Completely different from him, someone so fascinating he could never take his eyes off you.

‘I- will behave. I’ll do- whatever you want’ you whispered, almost resignedly, your shoulders sloping. Chrollo let out a soft sigh. You had no idea of the effect you had on him when you said things like that. It was all he ever wanted. And soon, he knew you would say the same words with care and tenderness in your voice.

  He parked the car in front of the skyscraper, opening the door and stepping out, and a middle-aged woman approached him, holding a pair of keys. Chrollo took them from her, spotting Shal’s antenna sticking out of her neck when she turned to head towards the glass doors. Chrollo went back to the car, opening the door and giving you his hand. You looked at him, closing your eyes briefly before you accepted his help and stood up on unsteady legs. He took his coat off, wrapping it around you. It would not do to have you walk in the lobby with your shirt and legs covered in blood.

It was long and baggy on you, and covered your whole body. He thought you looked quite sweet in it. He made sure to lead you to the door with a hand on your lower back, not trusting your balance after the injuries you had sustained and the clear exhaustion he could observe in your sluggish movements.

This time, Chrollo had asked Pakunoda and Shal to find him a place as high up as possible, so you could still watch the sky and not get any stupid ideas. The woman led you and him to a lift and pressed the button for the fiftieth floor, the penthouse. He liked to show off with a better flat, a more luxurious one, but had it been up to him, he would not have cared much, so long as it was comfortable and had everything he might need.

The woman stayed in the lift as he led you outside, to the door of your new home. He opened it, stepping inside and conjuring Bandit’s Secret to lock the door with Nen that only he could unlock. He put the keys on the bowl on the accent table by the door, because they were as useful as a pen to you if you planned to use them to open the door.

The penthouse was spacious but decorated in a way he did not mind. Cosy and warm, with a big fireplace, a loveseat and two armchairs in front of it, bookshelves filled with books on the opposite wall. His friends had truly found him a good place to crash. The dining room and the kitchen were connected to the living room by a wall with open arches, and one side of the dining room was a full window that offered a nice view of the city. He decided to look for anything that might be amiss before you moved from the hallway, and walked through the corridor, opening the door to the bedroom and the bathroom. It must definitely be more expensive than his previous lodging, but he hardly cared or worried about that in his life.

His clothes and yours had been carried here in two suitcases, and Chrollo decided he would give you space to have a bath or a shower whilst he tidied things up. With that in mind, he stepped back into the living room, observing you as you put his coat on the armchair.

‘Why don’t you take a warm shower, darling? It will relax your muscles. I’ll be here if you need anything’ he said, and you looked down at your torn clothes, your eyes wandering around the room.

He quickly went back to the bedroom, opened the suitcases and grabbed one of his shirts and clean underwear. You could go without trousers. If he were honest, he wanted you to go without any of those cumbersome clothes covering your stunning body, but he doubted you would react nicely to it if he suggested that. He was willing to compromise.

Besides, the thought of you wearing one of his shirts was somehow even better than going without it. Something about having something that was his on you. Proof of the fact that you were his.

He stepped outside, handing you the clothes and planting a kiss on your forehead.

‘Uhm- I need... trousers’ you murmured, your face growing hot against his fingers. He smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

‘Do you, darling? The shirt will cover enough of you up. I’ll be in the living room. Come over when you are finished’ he said, leaving you blushing in front of the bathroom and going to the bedroom, starting to sort through the clothes and objects in the suitcase.

When you came back, he had finished tidying up and was sitting down on the sofa with a book in his hand, the fireplace now crackling with orange flames and a glass of red wine on the coffee table.  

He had been right, you did look ravishing. With the smears of blood and dirt gone, his shirt on you, covering you to your upper thighs, leaving your legs exposed, he could hardly restrain himself. But tonight was not the right time to have you. No, he just wanted to hold you and see you. And perhaps taunt you a little as punishment for running away. Yes, he would definitely have you fulfil your promise to do anything he liked starting that very night.

He patted his thigh, and watched with sly amusement as you swallowed, clearly trying to find a loophole that would allow you to sit anywhere else. He enjoyed watching you rack your brains, knowing you might incur more dire consequences after you refused him the day you had attempted to escape.

It took you a minute, but eventually, you took small, hesitant steps towards him until you were firmly sat on his lap, his arm around you holding you to him. He loved your scent, loved the feel of your body against his, loved the sight of your pretty thighs. If he had been any other man, he would not have been able to exert control on his desires. But he would, because if he waited, the reward would be much sweeter. Besides, you seemed to think he would do something, and watching you squirm was delightful in it of itself.

He resumed reading the psychological thriller he’d picked up, stroking your ribs, knowing you’d mended them mere hours before. Your power was truly incredible. A power that sought to heal, remedy, one so in tune with your pure, kind soul. He found it so very fitting, so sweet. And so useful.

He could feel you shifting on his lap from time to time, and could not decide whether he wanted you to continue or to stop because it was so enticing. He decided he might do something, even if he would not take you to bed yet. After all, he had you there, glued to his body. It would be a sin to discard such a sweet chance.

He lowered his book, holding you more tightly, tilting your chin with his fingers.

‘Kiss me’ he murmured, watching you to see if you would hold to your word. He saw your pretty eyes widen, your lips parted as you scanned his face and shifted on him. Your teeth caught your bottom lip, pulling lightly on it, and he could not wait to do that himself and feel just how soft your lips were.

He had held back on kissing your lips as well, and he still remembered how worked up he had managed to get you just with that. He had a nice plan in the making, but he wanted you to kiss him first. Set it into motion.

You hesitantly craned your neck to press your soft lips on his cheek, and he let out a soft laugh, cupping your jaw.

‘Do not play coy with me, darling. You know perfectly well what I mean. Now, shall we try that again?’ he crooned, and he could see the acquiescence on your face set, compliance in the face of what you had said in the car as you leaned back towards him, closing your eyes and pressing your lips to his. This time, you did not have to be told to do it again. You knew what he wanted from you, and you acquiesced, tilting your head and touching his hair gingerly, your lips brushing against his, soft and timid. Chrollo restrained the urge to take the lead and show you exactly what he craved, because he wanted you to get there yourself.

At first, you kissed him slowly, tentatively, but then, the tip of your tongue traced the outline of his bottom lip, and you sucked it gently. Chrollo’s fingers curled around your scalp, tangling in your hair as he sank his teeth in your bottom lip, taking advantage of it to slide his tongue in your mouth. He had waited way too long to do this, but God, it was worth it.

You were addicting. He sucked and licked your lower lip, pressing his tongue against yours, tasting you, savouring the feeling of your restraint fading whenever he kissed you more passionately. A few times, he could have sworn you sought out his lips, hungry for more, battling your own desires but unable to deny them to the fullest. And it felt like a damn drug to him. He could force himself on you, but nothing could ever replace the feeling of watching you melt in his arms, so willing and pliant by the time you warmed up to his touch.

Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and his hand wandered down to cup your ass, fingers gripping the plump flesh of it, his cock already hard in his trousers. Judging by the way you were squirming and pressing your thighs together, he knew you would be wet if he touched you. And the thought alone was tantalising. He wanted to devour you, wanted you underneath him again, pretty and completely at his mercy. But he steered clear, deciding to just stroke your thighs, massage them, feel the goosebumps there as he continued to kiss you.

When his fingers inched closer to your inner thigh and you spread them for him a little, he knew he’d won. He smirked against your lips, sucking your swollen bottom lip one last time before he pulled back, looking at your flushed skin, bright eyes and tormented lips. You looked so tantalising, so compliant.

‘Have you any idea what you do to me?’ he whispered, his hand resting on your hip now. He let you simmer in that feeling, knowing that he would not have to wait much longer, he would have you soon.

He went back to his book, smirking slightly whenever you would squirm in his grasp. Oh, you must be so wound up. He wished he could help you. But this was all in favour of something better. To make you truly desperate, just as he was to get his hands on you. To have you all the time.

It did not take you long to start growing more sluggish, and before he knew it, he had finished the book and you were asleep, your head against his jaw, peaceful in your slumber. You were such a heavy sleeper, but he was also aware that you had exhausted yourself with that foolish stunt you’d pulled. He kissed your hair, setting the book down and lifting himself up, carrying you to bed. When he looked at you as you twisted in the sheets and his shirt lifted up to reveal the panties he’d picked out, he let out an audible groan.

Just a little longer, he thought. For now, he headed to the bathroom, seeking to relieve your effect on him.

You were disgusted with yourself. Disgusted with your weakness, disgusted with the effect he had on you. Yes, you’d said you’d do anything if he spared your loved ones, and you had been dreading him trying to fuck you. Having to go through it again. You had not expected him not to.

A week had passed, a week of torture. You had given up altogether on running away, especially because the door was impossible to open and jumping out the window wasn’t a viable option anymore. He had been more lenient than you’d ever imagined he could be, and hadn’t even tried to fuck you. He had merely demanded you sit on his lap and kiss him. And he had done so every day for the past week.

And every night for the past week, you’d been plagued with dreams about him having his way with you. You were horrified whenever you woke up drenched, pressure in your lower stomach, the unbearable desire to feel his touch rearing its ugly head again. Reminding yourself of who he was had become increasingly difficult, when all you could think about was how good he felt, how much his touch sparked heat in your body. And he knew it too, the clever bastard. You could see it in his sly grey eyes, in the sardonic smirk he would give you once he pulled away.

You were lonely, and you were tired. Tired of the struggle, tired of the anxiety, tired of weighing your every word, of pushing him away, of walking on eggshells all day long. It would be so easy to give in. The only thing that held you back was giving him the satisfaction. But then again, you’d already done that the time you’d slept with him. What was the point? Wouldn’t you live a much easier life if you gave in? If you stopped fighting and just let him encroach himself in your life? It had already happened, and your stubbornness and pride were only making your life harder.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You were weak and twisted for considering liking someone like him. Someone who had kidnapped you, a murderer with no morals, a man who had no problems threatening your loved ones and keeping you captive.

But what choice did you have? What was there in the future for you? More struggle, more bile in your throat, more tightness in your chest, more pain and suffering? Or just acceptance?

He could be considerate, when you did what he wanted. And he could be your worst nightmare if he wanted to.

You couldn’t defeat him, couldn’t escape, couldn’t convince him to let you go. Your choices were to either live a miserable life of suffering, or to give in and experience something bordering safety. Something that might resemble a life one day. All in exchange for giving in to the one who had ruined your life. Somehow, the choice made itself in your mind.

I really want to write a short fanfic about chrollo but I´m too nervous ugh and I still don´t know how to navigate this app properly ugh -_-

pls send help, Im sweating

Choking desire?

„Do you think you can trust me enough to fulfill your desire, my dear?“ his voice is low and calm. He looks at her with nothing but kindness and love.

Y/n only manages to nod since it´s been her first time telling anyone about her `unusual´ fantasy. She looks up at him as he towers over her chair and keeps stroking her soft hair.

„Don´t worry my dear… It´s OK to be nervous, it´s your first time after all“ Y/N only manages to nod and breathe out a little „thank you“. Chrollo can only smile at her sweet reaction.

After tieing her hands and feet to the chair he gives her a reassuring smile as he can see his lover´s excitement growing „Look at you… such a good girl“ he gives her a small kiss on the forehead and starts caressing her cheek again.

„Do you also enjoy this?“ from her voice, you can hear that she is nervous and insecure. Chrollo lets out a chuckle „Of course, my dear… How could I not? You look truly gorgeous with your hands and feet tied“. „Then please continue“

Chrollo leans down and gives her a tender kiss on the lips „There´s no need to rush darling. I want you to experience everything to the fullest“. Y/n´s lover keeps giving her gentle kisses while his hand slowly makes its way to her throat. His other one is resting behind her head and strokes her hair.

When his hand reaches Y/n´s throat he softly puts his hand around it but doesn´t apply any pressure. Y/n lets out a small please against his lips and she can feel Chrollo slowly smiling as he enjoys Y/n´s begging.

Slowly but surely, he tightens his grip on her throat as he stopped kissing just so he can nibble on her ear. „thank you“ is Y/n only reaction as she closes her eyes to fully savor this moment.

„You´re welcome, my dear… I´m enjoying this very much as well… I love seeing you like this“ Chrollo then increases his grip and he hears his beloved letting out a breathless „yes“

„Yes? Is it pleasant, my dear? Should I choke you harder?“ Y/n only manages to give a little nod as she opens her mouth and shuts her eyes once again „fuck, please“ she begs.

His hand tightens a bit more this time and Y/n finds herself unable to take full breaths which only thrills her more. „Does this please you, my dear?“

Chrollo straightens up to look down at Y/n with love and feels happy to see y/n struggle. He loves seeing you like this… at his mercy. He once again leans down to your ear and whispers with the deepest and sweetest voice „Shall we take this a step further dear?“

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

OMG i did it! My very first little oneshot? drabble? i´m sweating at the thought of uploading this huh, but I must say it was very fun writing this so i hope anybody who comes across this enjoys reading it 🫂 I also suck with titles sorryy and i hope i did the tagging right

Idgaf what anyone says, Chrollo is a cutie patootie and is my pookie bear.

I LOVE HIM SM HELP AHSBDBDHHDBSSBSBSBDBD I LOVE HIM AAAAAAAHHH HES SO GORGEOUS OMFG I AAAAAAAHJDJDJDNDEJJEBD

MY CUTIE PIE ILYSM IM CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP

I'm not even horny for him istg I just want to hug him like my fucking life depends on it..

I feel so bad for him itsg I love him ahhshshsbsbsb HELP HES SO UGHH OMDG I LOVE HIM IM GONNA CRY 😔😔😔😔😔 MY CUTIE PATOOTIE POOKIE BEAR I LOVE HIM WITH MY LIFE IM SOBBING UGHHHH OMFG WJEJJWBSBSBSBSBSSJWJ

😭😭😭

❤️

Y’all. I made this with my own hands?? I’m so in love 😭❤️❤️

First poll!! Very important!!

Another poll to get me back into writing!

Yandere Alphabet w/ Chrollo Lucilfer

Affection — how do they show their love and affection?

He lets you go outside and take you wherever you want. He will always be by your side with his arm or hand on you.

Blood — how messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Very messy. If anyone disrespects you or touches you (besides troupe members) he will either send the troupe to kill them or go after them himself. And it won't be quick it will be long and painful.

Cruelty — how would they treat their darling once abducted?

He would isolate you from the outside world an the only people you can see is him and the troupe. He is a bit condescending but he cares for you <3

Darling — aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He tries not to but he would. He would invade your space even if you told him off. He would forcefully kiss you, I can kinda see himself forcing himself on you but h really wouldn't want to.

Exposed — how vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Not vulnerable. No matter how long you've been together you will never see him open up. He may show you 'sympathy' when your crying or felling down.

Fight — how would they feel if their darling fought back?

He wouldn't like it at all. He wants you to submit to him so you fighting back against him is upsetting. He grows angry and upset but doesn't show it. He'll just have to chain you up to the bed <3

Game — is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It's not a game to him. He loves you in his own special way so you trying to escape upsets him. But it's not like you have many chances to escape since he watches you whenever he can or one of the troupe members.

Hell — what would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

When you pushed him over the edge and he hurt you. He chained you up so you couldn't move and blind folded you and plugged your ears so you couldn't hear or see what was happening around you. He left you there for a couple days and then came back to check on you. You didn't do whatever you did to upset him after that.

Ideals — what kind of future do they have in mind for their darling?

You, him, and the troupe being together as a big family. Somewhere where you have everything and no one can touch you.

Jealousy — do they get jealous? How do they handle it?

He's not so much jealous just possessive. Someone is talking to you that's cool, he's just gonna walk behind you and wrap an arm around your waist and give a friendly glare to them.

Kisses — how do they act around or with their darling?

He's loving in private and most of the time in public. He usually will have you sit on his lap while he reads. Whispers dirty or sweet things in your ear no matter where or who your with. But sometimes when he has to he can be a little harsh and condescending.

Love letters — how would they go about approaching their darling?

Try the normal way like taking you on dates and stuff. If that doesn't work he's gonna break into your home in the middle of the night and take you. He'll bring some of your stuff so you don't feel too lonely of!

Mask — are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

A little yeah. Around som people he can be more harsh and cold. Like with the troupe he cares deeply for and has a soft side but doesn't show it too much. But with you he shows it more and is much more nicer if you behave well.

Naughty — how would they punish their darling?

Isolation and stripping you of your senses. Nothing worse than not having anyone to talk to and not being able to see, hear, or move. On top of that not being able to eat or drink. Also in isolation you would be on the complete dark and it will be freezing cold with nothing to warm yourself.

Oppression — how many rights would they take away from their darling?

Most of your rights. I mean it's not like you need them.

Patience — how patient are they with their darling?

He's pretty patient. He understands that you may be distressed and scared. He'll give you as much time as you need to warm up to him.

Quite — if their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If darling dies he'll shed a tear and tear a city up like he did with Uvo. He will be upset I mean he's the leader of the phantom troupe how could he let this happen? If they leave/escape he'll search for you with the troupe's help and you it won't be pretty for you if they find you.

Regret — would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling?

No. Why would he feel bad?

Stigma — what brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

I can't really say 😭 It could be childhood considering it wasn't good but I don't want to say it was that. I wanna say its because in his eyes if he wants something he's going to take it. (God Chrollo why do you have to be so complex)

Tears — how do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He doesn't want to hear you scream at him or yell and fight back. He would hate for you to isolate yourself but it wouldn't really work because he'll just force himself in your space.

Unique — would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Well he isn't near you 24/7 because of troupe business and doesn't show his obsession but don't be fooled your always on his mind.

Vice — what weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

The fact y'all don't stay in the same place long and Chrollo can get really busy. But someone in the troupe is watching over you when possible so 🤷🏻‍♀️

Wit’s end — would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes. If you didn't listen to him or fighting back against him and the troupe or disrespecting the troupe.

Xoanon — how much would they revere or worship their darling?

He doesn't so much worship you but he does think of you highly. Out of everyone he choose you because you were better than the rest.

Yearn — how long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

If you catch his eye then he'll take you. It may take 2 weeks or 2 days but if he wants you he's going to have you.

Zenith — would they ever break their darling?

He probably would but he wouldn't enjoy it. He wished you were compliant on your own and you still kept your shine but if push comes to shove then he has no choice.

I'm not gonna lie I was struggling with this lmao. Like for me he's complicated to write and so he might be ooc but I tried 😭

Could I request for (Hxh) Chrollo x flirty male reader who can heal people by kissing any of their body parts (Lips, cheeks, hands, etc)

Also could I add that most of his clothing has boob windows (You don't have to add this if you don't want to)

I'm so sorry- ( ´ー`) I completely forgot about your ask for days-

When Chrollo met you, he was taken aback by your flirty nature. Sure, Chrollo jad encountered flirty people before but never someone who was flirty towards the same gender.

He thought you were useless. That was until he saw you heal his Troupe members by kissing the injuries.

About a month later, you started to fixate on boob windows and replaced many of your shirts with ones that had boob windows.

The moment Chrollo saw you with a boob window, he wanted to rip it off of you and fuck you senseless. He's seen people with them before, but he never felt like this about them.

To say he was confused about these feelings was an understatement. When he asked about them to someone, he realized he loved you.

He tried to court you for years before you put the pieces together.

Now you're happily in love with a boyfriend that keeps you on a leash to make sure you don't flirt with anyone else.

Hii could I request a smut with chrollo with the exact same male reader as your most recent fic?

Feel free to pic the kinks, but I'd like a bottom reader

(flirty, if he kisses a body part the person's injures heal, and always wears clothes with boob windows)

First and foremost, this man would completely ravage you.

Chrollo would fuck you anywhere and everywhere, as long as you are okay with it. If you aren't comfortable fucking in front of people, you won't. If all you want is to fuck in front of people, he has that arranged.

Your boob windows set him off so badly that it's almost an instant boner. That is until he gets used to it. The same goes for your flirting.

That doesn't mean he doesn't get horny for you, though. It happens a lot, especially when you tease him in front of the rest of the troupe.

This man is defending experimental with Kinks.

I think he definitely is into impact play, crying, oral (you giving), phone sex, sexy pictures, predator and prey play, and bdsm.

He loves impact play, spanking and slapping are his favorites. He loves spanking your dick, ass, and actual hole, and he adores slapping your face with his dick.

Don't get me started on the predator play. I head cannon, he adores getting you into a really submissive head state before he puts you in a forest and tells you to run or he'll kill you. Of course he doesn't, he just fucks you senseless.

In total, this man is completely feral when comes to sex.

phantom troupe negative traits/habits hcs

*i’m aware that being thieves and murderers are already pretty negative traits but this is more related to their personality 😊😊😊

-

chrollo

-unintentionally can sound super sarcastic and condescending

-like if he’s explaining something the cadence of his voice might sound like he’s mocking you, when in reality he just sounds like that

-if you’re in a pissy mood and he’ll ask what’s wrong it kinda sounds sarcastic ?????

-he’ll see you crying and be like:

“are you okay? what’s up?”

and you’ll kinda just be like 🤨🤨🤨 i’m literally crying ???????? what do you MEAN “what’s up?”

-he’ll apologise for sounding sarcastic but he was genuinely asking

-the troupe knows that’s just how he sounds but anyone who doesn’t know him that well just thinks he’s being a prick

shalnark

-literally has zero social awareness

-considering he sees other people as toys, he doesn’t give a single fuck about randos in public

-he’s the type to have a loud conversation on speakerphone on a busy, crowded train filled to the brim with tired people who just got off their 9-5 and want to go home 💔

“hello? yeah, of course i can talk! so today i was-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP”

“…..anyways so-“

-is always confused as to why people are glaring at him but like i said, he really couldn’t give one

-he also probably sees someone who’s about to doze off or looks visibly irritated and will make it his mission to piss them off as much as possible and strike up a conversation with them

phinks

-extremely sore loser

-if you’re playing a game with him (like mario kart) and he’s about to lose, he will walk away right then and there and quit

-will claim the game is rigged and that’s why he was about to lose (if he wins, he will rub it in and tell you to just improve at the game)

-the troupe audibly groans whenever he asks to join in when they play video games

-one time he unplugged the tv when he lost a game against feitan and shalnark (if he doesn’t win, NOBODY gets to win)

-will claim the other person cheated if he loses

“COME ON!! SHALNARK PROBABLY HACKED THE GAME OR SOMETHING, MAKING ME LOSE!”

“…have you ever considered that maybe you just suck at the game?”

*throws remote at tv*

-just let him win if you want to have a easy breezy life

uvogin

-absolutely zero volume control

-he’s loud in public, but he’s completely unaware how loud he’s being

-this also makes him the worst person to tell secrets to

*pspspspswhisperwhisperwhisper*

“YOU THINK HIS HAIRLINE LOOKS LIKE THE MCDONALDS SYMBOL?”

everyone is staring. the man with the weird hairline you tried to whisper to uvo about is staring. you are extremely embarrassed. you want the ground to swallow you whole.

-to add insult to injury, he also points.

-because of this, it’s super easy to tell when he’s talking about you because he will yell AND point

-he doesn’t gaf who hears

shizuku

-the most brutally honest person you’ll ever meet

-doesn’t sugarcoat anything

-it’s not like she wants to hurt your feelings, but she just doesn’t see the point in beating around the bush or lying

-if she thinks you look fat in something, she’ll tell you. if she thinks you don’t suit a certain colour, she’ll tell you. if she thinks your cooking tastes like actual dookie left out to cook in the desert sun, she will not hesitate to tell you.

-she also will not apologise if she hurts your feelings

-“why do i need to apologise for being honest?”

-she is winning the idgaf war 100%

-will probably forget what she said as well, which makes it worse

feitan

-rather than ask to borrow something of yours like a normal person, he will steal it and then proceed to gaslight you when you confront him about it

-makes sense for him due to his ‘thieves take what they want’ mentality

-will have you convinced that your memory is patchy

“feitan where the fuck are are my scissors?”

“beats me.”

“i know you took them.”

“did not.”

“they were on the counter like five minutes ago and you’re the only one in here”

“no they weren’t.”

-this will carry on until you admit you were wrong for accusing him, or you just drop it

-occasionally he will start drama with the other troupe members by stealing their shit (usually phinks) and making it seem like someone else did it

nobunaga

-quite possibly the most indecisive man you’ll ever meet

-you’d much rather prefer to get sentenced to eternal torture at guantanamo bay than have to ask nobunaga what restaurant he wants to go to later tonight

-“my mind will be made up by tonight, i swear!”

-it wasn’t.

-he’s one of those annoying indecisive people who will insist that you choose, but will get mad if you don’t choose the option he secretly sorta preferred

“i can’t decide between place a or b, you choose!”

“place b”

“really? place a looks much more classy”

“THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU PICK PLACE A?!”

-you’re convinced he’s only acting like this to piss you off, but he’s just like that

-in the end, you have to force him to flip a coin or else he wouldn’t get anywhere decision-wise

pakunoda

-she often gets lost in thought and zones out, which results in her unintentionally staring at people for a little too long

-because of her stern resting face (or rbf), it usually comes across as her glaring at you, which feels a lil uneasy, especially if you’re not close with her

-she will apologise profusely when she comes to, but before she does she will just be looking at you like

👁️_👁️

-as well as this, she will sometimes try and touch you to purposefully see your memories if she’s a bit suspicious of you for whatever reason

-if she thinks you’re lying about something for example, she will intrude your thoughts

-she’s not a particularly touchy-feely person so it’s quite amusing to see her try and touch you for seemingly no reason out of the blue

-a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do 🤷‍♀️

machi

-despite being one of the more upfront and mature members of the troupe, she’s also the worst one for holding grudges

-like she will hold a grudge for literal ages

-there are many she’s had for so long that she can’t even remember why she was mad in the first place

-at this point it’s more about keeping a streak than actually being mad

-best case scenario is that she forgets about it altogether or else best believe she will NOT be forgiving you. ever.

-she’s still pissed at the old guy who stepped on her toes by accident two years ago. and the waiter who tripped and dropped the tray on her eight months ago. or the questionable comment hisoka made last week.

-talks about getting vengeance on those she holds grudges against but can’t even remember who they are or what they did

“i swear i will find them, wherever they are, so they will get what’s coming to them.”

“that’s nice and all, but WHO are they and what did they do?”

“….. it’ll come to me soon hold on..”

-feels incomplete without holding a grudge against someone

franklin

-his big ass does NOT look where he’s walking and will bump into anything and anyone

-don’t expect him to apologise tho

-“apologise? maybe you should watch where you’re going.”

-don’t even try to fight him on this

-doesn’t see it as his duty to move out the way, but the duty of those around him

-the absolute NERVE

-the only reason why no one confronts him about it is because he’s tall and big as hell

-don’t die for getting bumped into

bonolenov

-one thing about him is that when he’s mad, he’ll give people the SILENT treatment

-heavy on silent

-could go for centuries if he wanted to

-and trust he’s a pro at keeping it up

-he doesn’t gaf if you’re in danger, he’ll keep on giving you the cold shoulder

-he won’t stop because he feels bad, but because he just can’t be bothered to keep ignoring you

-he will randomly just start talking to you again one day and will act confused if you question why he’s taking to you again after so long

-he won’t apologise for it tho 💯

kortopi

-his minuscule ass is always stepping on everyone’s trotters

-honestly sometimes he does it out of spite and will give look at you like 👁️ if you confront him

-there’s not much to say about him except he will sometimes accidentally sometimes not step on your feet

i fear i’m missing more members but irdgaf rn so enjoy !!!!! also these are fun to write to pls pls pls give me suggestions xoxoxo

Uvogin x Thief reader!

Here’s Part 1 of Uvogin z Thief Reader!!! It’s an upgrade to a really old fanfic of mine and I’m very happy about it! Gonna be a slow burn but a very well written descriptive story!

——————

You're not the type to back down, are you?" The sly voice echoed through the dimly lit corridor, a stark contrast to the chaos outside.

Y/N, the notorious thief known for her unmatched agility and uncanny ability to vanish into thin air, found herself in a tight spot. Cornered by a group of individuals who were equally adept in the art of theft and deception—the Phantom Troupe.

She had come to the auction hall to pilfer the latest set of rare artifacts, a prize that had eluded even the most skilled hands in the business. But as she held the gleaming treasure in her grasp, she felt the air thicken with the presence of her pursuers.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she recognized the unmistakable aura of Chrollo Lucifer, the leader of the Phantom Troupe. His crimson eyes bore into her as he offered a thin smile, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that," he said, his voice like velvet over a sharpened blade. "But I'm afraid you're in no position to decline my offer." The other members of the troupe emerged from the shadows, their faces a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Y/N, with the artifacts clutched tightly in her bag, took a step back, her mind racing. Join them? Impossible. But she knew better than to underestimate the ruthlessness of the Phantom Troupe. Her options were slim—join or become their next victim.

She met Chrollo's gaze with defiance, her jaw set. "What makes you think I'd ever consider joining a bunch of thugs like you?"

-^1: Y/N, a renowned thief, is caught by the Phantom Troupe at an artifact auction. Chrollo Lucifer, their leader, is impressed by her audacity and offers her a place in the group. Surrounded by the troupe, she considers her options, knowing their reputation for ruthlessness.-

The air in the corridor grew tense as the troupe members exchanged glances. Chrollo's smile grew wider, revealing a set of sharp teeth. "Ah, a challenge," he mused, "how delightful." He gestured to the burly figure standing behind him, "Take her to the room we've prepared. She'll think it over."

Y/N was marched down the corridor, her hands bound with an unbreakable Nen thread that burned at the slightest struggle. The room they brought her to was surprisingly spacious, with a single bed, a table, and a chair.

The walls were adorned with weapons and trinkets, hinting at its usual occupant's tastes. As the door slammed shut, she looked around, realizing she was to share this space with Uvogin, one of the most feared members of the Phantom Troupe.

Uvogin leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his broad chest, watching her with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "You're going to be a handful, aren't you?" he said, his deep voice rumbling through the space.

Y/N's eyes narrowed as she sized him up. Uvogin was notorious for his brute strength and volatile temperament. But she had a knack for reading people, and she could see the flicker of something else in his gaze—respect, perhaps. Or was it something more?

“It appears we are.”

"Looks like we're bunkmates," Uvogin said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate within the very walls of the room. He strolled over to the bed and plopped down, his boots hitting the floor with a thud. "Make yourself comfortable, if you can."

—————

Y/N took in the sparse accommodations, her mind racing with possible escape routes. She gritted her teeth, refusing to let the fear show on her face. "I'd rather not get too cozy with the enemy," she spat, her eyes never leaving his.

Uvogin chuckled, his amusement clear despite his gruff demeanor. "You've got spirit," he said, his eyes glinting with something akin to admiration. "But you're not going anywhere until Chrollo says so." He leaned back, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. "But don't worry, I won't bite—unless you ask nicely."

The days turned into a tense dance of cat and mouse. Y/N tried to maintain her distance from Uvogin, but the confined space made it near impossible. She watched him, studied his every move, looking for weaknesses she could exploit. But every time she thought she had found one, he'd catch her eye and give her a knowing smirk, as if he could read her thoughts.

Uvogin, for his part, was surprisingly courteous. He never laid a hand on her, except to unbind her when she needed to eat or use the facilities. He'd even bring her food, though it was always cold and tasteless, a stark reminder of her captivity.

The other troupe members would come and go, trying to persuade her to join their ranks with various tactics—from sweet-talking to outright threats. But she remained firm, her resolve unshaken.

. Uvogin's courteous behavior surprises her, and she remains unshaken by the Phantom Troupe's attempts to recruit her.

Nights were the hardest. The silence was deafening, filled only with the occasional snore from Uvogin and the distant echoes of the city outside. She'd lie there, her mind racing with thoughts of escape, her body tense and ready to spring into action at the slightest sound.

But each night, she'd also find her gaze drawn to Uvogin's silhouette in the moonlight, his chest rising and falling steadily. There was something almost…comforting about his presence, despite the danger he posed.

One evening, unable to stand the incessant whispering of her thoughts, she spoke up, breaking the heavy silence. "Why do you guys want me so badly?" she asked, her voice low and measured.

Uvogin stirred from his position, his eyes opening lazily. "You've got potential," he said, his voice gruff with sleep. "Chrollo sees something in you that could be…useful."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "I'm not a tool to be used," she retorted, trying to keep the tremor of fear out of her voice.

Uvogin sat up, his gaze intense. "You're not just any thief," he said, his tone serious. "You've got a reputation, and not just for your skills. You're…different.".

Y/N felt a twinge of annoyance at his perceptiveness. She had worked hard to keep her emotions in check, to never let anyone see past her tough exterior. Yet here she was, confined with a man who could potentially crush her with his bare hands, and he was peeling back layers she had kept hidden for years. "What do you mean, different?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.

Uvogin leaned against the headboard, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. "You've got guts, y/n," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "But it's more than that. There's a…spark in you. A fire that refuses to be put out, no matter the odds." He paused, studying her in the moonlit room. "The troupe needs that kind of spirit."

Y/N scoffed, trying to ignore the warmth that his words kindled within her. "Flattery won't get you anywhere," she said, turning away to face the wall. But his words had planted a seed of doubt in her mind. Was she really so special? Or was this just another ploy to get her to comply?

The days grew longer, the tension in the room thickening with each passing hour. Y/N felt a strange pull towards Uvogin, a confusing mix of fear and attraction. She would catch herself watching him when he wasn't looking, studying the way his muscles moved as he sharpened his nails—his own brand of Nen. His eyes, though fierce, held a gentleness that seemed at odds with his reputation.

“Goodnight Uvogin.” Y/n promptly flipped her body to face the other direction. “Goodnight y/n!!” His voice boomed with happiness

——

One night, unable to sleep, she found herself staring at the tattoo on his chest, a symbol of the Phantom Troupe. It was intricate, almost mesmerizing. "What's it like?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Being in the troupe?"

Uvogin's eyes narrowed, sizing her up. "It's family," he said, his voice gruff. "We watch each other's backs, share our spoils, and fight together. We're not just a bunch of thieves and murderes. We're something more."

Y/N rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand. "And what makes you think I'd fit in?" she asked, her voice a challenge.

Uvogin's gaze softened, and for a moment, she saw a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. "You remind me of someone," he murmured, almost to himself.

"Someone who didn't take crap from anyone, no matter how powerful they were."

The room grew quiet again, and Y/N felt the weight of his stare. She knew he wasn't just referring to her skills; there was something personal in his words.

"Someone from your past?" she ventured, curiosity piquing.

Uvogin's expression remained stoic, but she could see the flicker of memory in his eyes. "Someone I cared about," he admitted. "Someone who didn't make it out of this life."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken understanding. Y/N knew all too well the pain of loss and the cost of the life they led. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel a flicker of something other than defiance—sympathy.

"I'm sorry," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Uvogin's gaze sharpened, as if surprised by her sudden show of emotion.

A moment later, she felt his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. "Don't be," he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it. "It's the life we chose."

Y/N looked into his eyes, seeing the weight of his words. For the first time, she saw the man behind the moniker, the pain and the loyalty that had driven him to this path. It was a stark reminder that even in a world of thieves and killers, there were moments of humanity.

"Why do you stay with them?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Uvogin's hand lingered on her shoulder, his gaze searching hers. "Because," he began, his voice rough with emotion, "they're all I've got." He paused, his eyes flickering with something that looked almost like regret. "We're all lost souls, Y/N. Bound together by a thread of fate that none of us can cut. Besides I love violence, and making people feel pain.” His chuckles boomed with mischievously at his confession.

Y/N felt a pang of something unfamiliar—sympathy, perhaps—for this man who had become both her jailor and her confidant. "What was her name?" she asked softly.

Uvogin's expression grew distant, his eyes glazing over as he spoke her name. "Evangeline" he said, his voice thick with unspoken sorrow. "She was…special. Like you."

Y/N sat up, her curiosity piqued. "What happened to her?"

Uvogin's expression hardened, his grip on the covers tightening. "She was taken from us," he said, his voice a low growl. "By someone who didn't understand what family truly means."

"I'm sorry," she said again, the words feeling inadequate.

Uvogin nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "We all have our reasons for being here," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "But maybe, just maybe, we can find something more than just survival together in this life of murder, violence and thievery."

Y/N felt her walls cracking, the defiance she had clung to for so long slowly giving way to a strange sense of camaraderie. She didn't dare to hope, but the thought of belonging to something, to someone, was tempting.

Their eyes remained locked, the tension between them no longer just hostility, but something more complex, something that made her heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fear. Without warning, Uvogin leaned in, his breath warm against her face, and for a moment, she thought he was going to say something else.

But instead, his lips met hers, the kiss firm and demanding, yet not without a hint of tenderness.

Y/N was taken aback, her mind reeling from the suddenness of it all. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she found herself responding, her body moving of its own accord as she leaned into the embrace. “Uvo~”

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, the beat of his heart pounding in sync with hers. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken desires, of two souls finding an unexpected kinship in a world that offered them little warmth.

The kiss deepened, Uvogin's grip tightening, his hand tangling in her hair. Y/N could feel the strength in him, the power that made him feared throughout the underworld. But there was something else there too, something that made her heart flutter—the gentleness that lay beneath the hardened exterior. It was a contradiction that intrigued her, a softness she hadn't anticipated finding in this place.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Uvogin searched her eyes, looking for something she wasn't quite ready to give. "I've been thinking," she said, her voice a little shaky. "Maybe…maybe Chrollo's offer isn't so bad."

The room was still, the air thick with the weight of their shared secret. Uvogin's gaze searched hers, looking for any hint of deceit. "You'd really consider joining us?".

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the gravity of her decision. "I can see the bond you all share," she said, her voice steady. "And maybe…maybe I could find a place among you."

Uvogin's expression was unreadable, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "You're not just saying that to get out of here, are you.?" he asked, his tone a mix of hope and skepticism.

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart racing. "No," she said, the word coming out stronger than she expected. "I've seen how you all are together. You're not just a bunch of thieves—you're a family."

Uvogin studied her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. Then, slowly, a smile began to spread across his face. "Welcome to the Phantom Troupe," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "You're going to need a new name though."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "A new name?" she echoed, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Uvogin nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yeah, everyone in the troupe has one. It's part of our identity. What do you want to be called?"

Y/N took a moment to ponder, her heart racing. This was a significant step, a declaration of her new allegiance. "How about 'Phantom Thief'," she suggested, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

Uvogin chuckled, the sound rumbling through the room. "I like it," he said, his eyes lighting up with approval. "It's got a ring to it."

The days that followed saw a shift in the dynamics of their captor-captive relationship. Y/N, now considering herself the Phantom Thief, began to open up to the other members of the troupe. They were an eclectic bunch, each with whose needles could slice through anything with ease;

Shizuku, the stoic and mysterious member who was unique. Her weapon being a vaccum that could suck up anything.

Machi, a radiant girl who was deadly as she was friendly.

, strikingly lesbian, yet a femme fetal who was as unpredictable as the tides;

, whose fiery aura and torturing blade skills were as mesmerizing as they were terrifying. Shalnark and phinks were very accepting and fun to be around.

Nobunaga, Uvogin best friend was chill, deftinkeu high all the time too!

Their banter, their inside jokes, their shared meals—it all started to feel eerily familiar. Y/N found herself warming up to them, their rough exteriors hiding hearts that were fiercely loyal to their own. And then there was Chrollo, the enigmatic leader with the eyes of a predator and the mind of a chess master. He watched her with a mix of amusement and scrutiny, as if she was a puzzle he hadn't quite figured out yet.

—————-//—-/-

One evening, as the troupe gathered in their makeshift headquarters, Y/N approached Chrollo, her eyes meeting his unwavering gaze. "I've been thinking about your offer," she said, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. "Maybe I could get used to this life."

Chrollo's smile grew, his crimson eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ah, the Phantom Thief decides to join the fray," he said, his tone light and teasing. "Welcome, my dear. We're thrilled to have you with us."

The next day, to Y/N's surprise, Chrollo suggested a shopping spree as a way to celebrate her newfound allegiance. "A little treat before the real work begins," he said with a wink.

The troupe split into two groups—the girls and the boys—each with their own set of goals. Y/N, Machi, and Pakunoda set off into the bustling streets of the city, their eyes sparkling with excitement. They darted in and out of stores, their laughter echoing through the alleyways as they tried on ridiculous outfits and poked fun at each other's choices.

Machi found a pair of gloves that she claimed would perfectly complement her Nen abilities, while Y/N's eyes widened at the sight of a sleek, black jumpsuit that seemed tailor-made for her new identity.

Pakunoda, ever the fashionista, held up a garish hat with a wide brim. "What do you think?" she asked, her cheeky grin lighting up her face.

Machi giggled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "It's definitely…something," she said, holding it atop Y/N's head. "But maybe not for a Phantom Thief."

Pakunoda pouted playfully, snatching the hat away. "Fine, more for me then," she said, plopping it onto her own head and striking a pose. The three of them burst into laughter, the tension of their usual missions temporarily forgotten.

Meanwhile, the boys had taken a more laid-back approach. Uvogin, Feitan, and Phinks lounged in a nearby café, sipping coffee and watching the world go by.

Hisoka, ever the flamboyant one, had insisted on tagging along, his eyes scanning the crowd for potential…companions. More so children. "So, what do you think of our newest recruit?" Feitan asked, his tone casual as he stirred his drink.

Uvogin's gaze drifted to the memory of their stolen kiss, his expression unreadable. "She's got potential," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But she's still got a lot to learn."

“I think she’s a great woman, one id love to battle once more. Yet she holds not a candle to my Illumi~” Hisoka interjected. “What do you mean once more?” They asked the clown.

“we fought once, she took my precious Gon~ Away from me.” He pouted a bit. “Although I do say, it was quite ravishing.” “Why didn’t you say anything about this sooner hispka?” “It wasn’t in my best interes~” his face distorted into a lustful smile.

———

The shopping spree continued, with the girls trying on everything from flashy jewelry to tight leather pants. They giggled and whispered conspiratorially, sharing stories of their past heists and the thrills of outsmarting their marks. Y/N felt a strange sense of belonging, as if she had finally found her tribe.

"So, Phantom Thief," Machi began, holding up a pair of fingerless gloves that were adorned with silver studs, "What's your specialty?"

“I’m a jack of all trades, but my best specialty would be my hand to hand combat. I possess the ability to deduce one’s pressure points. But it doesn’t work on people as advanced as you bunch.” She laughed at her words.

Machi's eyes widened in admiration. "Wow, you're like a real-life cat burglar," she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. "Maybe you could teach me a few tricks."

Pakunoda leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "Yeah, I've always wanted to learn how to manipulate pressure points! Mind reading is only as far as anything goes.” she said, her eyes shining with excitement. "Imagine the kind of mischief we could get into!"

The three of them shared a knowing smile, the kind that spoke of shared secrets and future escapades. They left the store, their arms laden with bags filled with their new treasures. The city lights reflected off the various weapons and gadgets they had managed to 'acquire' along the way.

It was a strange juxtaposition—the laughter and camaraderie of friends on a shopping trip, all while planning their next heist.

As they meandered through the crowded streets, the girls couldn't resist the allure of a street performer's sleight of hand. Y/N watched, her eyes narrowed as she tried to discern his secrets. "Amateurs," she murmured under her breath, earning a smack on the arm from Machi.

But amidst the chuckles and gasps of the crowd, she heard a familiar voice, one that sent a jolt of recognition through her. "Yo, that's the thief from Yorknew!" It was Gon, his youthful exclamation cutting through the din.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she turned to see the young boy, now older and more seasoned, standing alongside his friends—Killua, Leorio, and the stoic Kurapika. Her eyes widened, and she took a step back, her hand instinctively reaching for her pocket where she kept her lockpicks. Had they come to apprehend her? Or were they just here by coincidence?

Gon's eyes lit up with excitement as he rushed over, his friends following closely behind. "It's really you!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with the same enthusiasm she remembered. "Wow y/n , You're even more amazing than I thought!"

Y/N's hand froze over her pocket, her heart racing. She had hoped to avoid this confrontation, but it seemed fate had other plans. "Hi, guys," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Long time no see."

Gon's grin was as wide as she remembered it, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "We never got a chance to thank you for what you did back in Yorknew," he said, his eyes searching hers. "You saved us from that crazy guy—Hisoka!"

Y/N felt a twinge of anxiety. How much did they know? Did they recognize her as the thief she had been that night? She forced a casual smile. "It was nothing," she said, her heart hammering in her chest. "Just a little…adventure."

Killua's eyes narrowed, his sharp instincts picking up on the tension. "You're not in trouble, are you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. "No, no trouble at all," she said, her smile forced. "Just out for a little…shopping spree."

Leorio eyed the bags in their hands, his gaze shrewd. "Looks like you're going all out," he said, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Y/N forced a laugh, her heart racing. "Just living life to the fullest," she said, trying to keep her cool.

But Kurapika's gaze was unyielding, his scarlet eyes piercing through the facade. "Is that so?" he said, his tone measured. "You seem to have changed a bit since we last met."

Y/N felt the weight of his scrutiny, her heart pounding in her chest. She had hoped to keep her past life a secret from them, but it seemed fate had other plans. "You guys have changed too," she said, trying to deflect. "You're all so…grown up."

Gon's grin didn't falter. "Thanks," he said, puffing out his chest. "We've had our fair share of adventures."

Leorio leaned in, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "So, what brings you to the city?" he asked, his gaze flicking to the bags they held.

Y/N's mind raced. She couldn't tell them the truth—not about the Phantom Troupe, not about her new life as a member of the notorious group. "Just passing through," she said, her voice a tad too bright. "You know how it is with the life of a thief."

Killua's gaze sharpened, his instincts on high alert. "Y/n, you’re not in trouble with any hunters, are you?" he asked, his eyes darting around the area as if searching for signs of pursuit.

Y/N's pulse quickened, her mind racing for a plausible lie. "No, nothing like that," she assured him, her voice steady despite the rising panic. "I've just been…keeping busy."

Before she could say more, Uvogin's formidable presence appeared beside them, his eyes scanning the group with a hint of suspicion. "Looks like you've made some friends," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Y/N's heart sank. She had hoped to avoid this. "Guys, this is Uvogin," she said, her voice tight. "He's…an old acquaintance."

Gon's eyes widened with recognition. "Oh, you're with the Phantom Troupe!" he exclaimed, his excitement unabated. "That's so cool! Me and killua have already met them!!”

Y/N shot Uvogin a panicked look, but his expression remained unfazed. He simply nodded in greeting to the group of hunters. "We've got to get going," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "The city has more than enough to keep us busy."

Gon and his friends looked at each other, a mix of excitement and wariness crossing their faces. "Ah, right," Gon said, his smile faltering slightly. "We've got some exploring to do too."

Leorio stepped forward, his gaze still locked on the Phantom Troupe members. "It's been great seeing you again," he said, his voice a tad forced. "But we should let you get back to your…shopping."

Y/N nodded, her smile tight. "Yeah, we've got a lot to do," she agreed, hoping they would take the hint.

Machi and Pakunoda stepped in, sensing the tension. "Come on, Phantom Thief," Machi said, tugging at her arm. "We've got to get back before the boss starts to worry."

Their eyes met, and Y/N knew she had to play along. She took a deep breath and nodded, turning back to Gon and his friends. "It was great seeing you all," she said, her voice genuine despite the fear bubbling inside her. "But we really should get going."

Gon looked crestfallen, but he nodded. "Yeah, we've got a lot to do," he said, his eyes still sparkling with excitement. "Maybe we'll run into each other again."

She hoped they wouldn’t. For kurapikas scarlet eyes had awoken in that ver moment, if anything they both could’ve been killed on the spot. If she ran into him again, or with another phantom troupe member they’d be fucked.

It really was a mess, but at least of all people, she had Uvogin.

rendezvous- chrollo x reader

Summary: As a new spider, Chrollo invites you to dinner, hoping to get to know you. Is it a date? Or is it strictly business? You don’t care which one as long as  Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome sits right in front of you. 

ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ﹕ ᵒᵐᵍ ʰⁱ ⁿᵉʷ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ >:) ⁱ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶜʰʳᵒˡˡᵒ.. ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ. ⁱ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ, ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠⁱᶜᵘˡᵗ. ᵉˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵃˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ. ⁱ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ʷᵉᵉᵏˢ ᵃᵍᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜʰʳᵒˡˡᵒ ʷᵃˢ ᶜʰᵃˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʷᵃˡᵐᵃʳᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵏⁿⁱᶠᵉ, ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵉᵛᵃ. ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ "ᵐʳ. ᵗᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢᵒᵐᵉ" ˢᵒ ⁱ ᵐⁱˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰⁱᵗᵗᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒʳʳʸ

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The gold chandeliers shine on your boss’ face, reflecting on his midwinter eyes with mixes of yellows and whites. His brown bandage wrap covers his Saint Peter's cross, presenting himself as an average citizen instead of an oddity. The once slicked back ebony hair was now down, framing his chiseled face.  

Your ears are filled with the soft, classical music playing in the restaurant, making you feel like you're in a vintage movie. The masses of antique paintings hanging on the bold walls also enhanced the ambiance. It is no wonder that he chose this place; it fits him so well.

His soft smile ensnares you, and contagiously you smile back at him. The soft, genuine look in his eyes has you melting. Who could've known the leader of the infamous Phantom Troupe turned out to be Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome?

Chrollo’s silky voice interrupts your thoughts. "How have you been liking the spiders so far?"

While admiring his handsome features, your attention was briefly diverted.

"Oh, oh, they're great. I'm glad I've finally met people who share things in common with me." By in common, you meant: rough-home life, outcasts, and full of devilry. "I won’t lie. I was nervous that they wouldn’t be welcoming. That they didn't want a new member. But they made me feel right at home."

His smile lines present themselves to you. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure they adore you just as much."

You smile at that thought. Taking another bite of your dinner as he kept looking at you with tenderness, you add on, "Especially the girls.. They seem rough and closed off, but they're sweethearts. Just like the sisters I've never had."

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that." Danchou smiles at you, and you could've sworn you saw a shimmer on his canines.

You beam at his words, his own happiness making you happy. Continuing smiling, he takes your hand into his own, holding it above the table, rubbing your thenar web space.

"I'm so glad we found you. You're exactly what the troupe needed."

His tired eyes hold eye contact with you as your heart sinks into your stomach. Your shy smile is accompanied by a feeling of appreciation that you've never felt before. Who could've guessed the leader of a murderous cult was so charismatic?

"Your nen abilities are extraordinary. You certainly are a blessing to have." He continues.

"I'm glad I found you guys, too." Your cheeks are almost burning as you feel heat move to them.

You're the first to break the eye contact, the mutual gaze and flattery proving to be too intimate for you. But Chrollo continued to stare at you, his eyes glistening‌ ‌with‌ ‌admiration.

Looking down at your plate, you smile to yourself, which doesn’t miss his eyes. The busy chatter of all the other patrons has long been gone, leaving the distant sound of pots and pans clattering and the elegant music blending in together.

Chrollo keeps staring at you, noticing and taking in all your features. He felt intrigued by you. It wasn't often when he really felt enamored by a nen user, or even a nenless person. After all, he is the best of the best. Creating a big name for himself in the hunter world, good and bad. It was all the same to his neglected heart.

Your unique and strong hatsu has Chrollo wrapped around your little finger. An achievement that many haven’t managed.

He felt that you had been given as a precious gift from the heavens, thanking him for helping and creating a home for the less fortunate. The first time you were introduced to him, the gears in his mind were turning, picturing how perfect your skills would be for his heists. Though he trusts the other spider’s abilities, he knew you were a force to be reckoned with. Someone that would make his future plans go by untroubled. He was already eager to see you in action.

You, however, were excited to get to know him some more.

Next fanart I'll be doing soon

Chrollo, my tablet and my belly