This fic was based on a very intense dream I once had about orcs. I’m really proud of this one, so I hope you all enjoy it! It’s another long one, and has been in the making for over a few weeks. Any comments are appreciated <3
Warnings: yandere, orc! Franklin, fantasy races, violence, explicit description of war, explicit description of violence, nsfw, non-con turned dub-con, kidnapping, toxic relationships, mentioned future pregnancy, violence toward reader, needles, human trafficking, 8.6 k words
The field was barren.
There were a few people in the far distance running away, hiding behind burning carts and houses in their attempt at escape. It didn’t matter if they managed to get away now, since tonight the hounds would be let loose, following and killing anyone whose scent fled out of the battlefield. The beasts had little intelligence outside of their bred purpose, and seemed to utilize whatever they did have to be cruel, often biting off limbs first, slowly gnawing away at bone, waiting for their prey to die.
In the midst of the field laid a soldier, crying out in pain, probably due to his armor being dented in a way that implied massive internal damage, as well as his legs being about ten feet away from his main body. It would take about five minutes before he succumbed to the pain and died, but until then he’d scream in agony, which is why the nearest orc, looting the nearby corpses for their valuables, drew his club and smashed the soldier’s head in, the battlefield a bit quieter.
It had been a messy battle, an unsatisfying one as well. The settlement had drawn the orc’s ire by delivering a pledge of war, a spike embedded with the tusks of their kin. Few still dared to make such bold claims after years and years of endless one-sided conflict, the orc’s decimating all that was in their path. They were stronger, did not complain about anything, and honored their ancestors and progeny by expansion of their land, of their influence. Every inch of soil was paid for in blood, and it was not theirs that would pay the price.
The only down side the race had was their low numbers, but that did not matter greatly, one orc managing to kill villages without breaking a sweat.
When she pushes or hits you… grab her and don’t let go.
━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━
“You’re such an ass, Hisoka. Everything is one big game to you,” you scowled, glaring at the red-headed male on the other side of the hotel room. He simply chuckled in reply, leaning against the wall as he watched her closely, nothing but a fluffy white towel around his waist. “You’re so damn infuriating!”
“And yet you haven’t left me,” he laughed that creepy little laugh of his, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between the two of you. “I wonder why that is.”
You scoffed, eyes narrowing at him. “Don’t get cocky, I can leave whenever the hell I want to.” To prove your point, you shoved past him, heading for the door with the full intention of leaving, at least for a little bit. Being locked up in the same room with him for so long was driving you up a wall and you needed a break.
Hisoka didn’t miss a beat, roughly pulling you back against his naked chest, arms secure around your waist and nose buried in your hair. You tried your hardest to pull yourself from his grip, but he was much stronger than you and you knew it was fruitless unless he chose to release you.
“Let go of me.”
“No.”
You could hear the pout in his voice and you rolled your eyes, pinching his arm with your nails but it had the opposite effect, his grip tightening. “I’m serious, Hisoka. Let go.”
“Don’t leave.” His voice was so soft, so vulnerable, that you almost didn’t hear it and you had to question if you had heard him right. “Please.”
It was rare for him to show this side of himself to you, not wanting to appear weak even to you, and it made your heart melt. He was an infuriating male and you oftentimes wondered if he actually loved you or if he was just playing with you for his own damn amusement but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love him. He had fully captured your heart, whether he meant to or not. With a huff of defeat, you let yourself lean back against him, his body relaxing at the movement.
“You’re such a pain in the ass,” you muttered, earning a chuckle in reply.
hhh ok so not sure if these will be good because I have mixed feelings about Killua, but anyways onto the hc’s,,,
At first, Killua would most likely ignore you or make jokes about you since hes just like that with new people
If he met you through Gon, hed hold his tongue sometimes so he doesn’t upset him for making playful jokes about you, but most of his jokes about you are just playful, no actual harm intended unless you were rude to him or Gon at some point while just meeting you
Hes very quiet about his family when you’re around, and is very vague about them if you or Gon asks, so it’ll take time for him to fully warm up to you
hes also very casual about things, not really wanting to get into serious topics if its not needed
later on, when hes comfortable enough with you, he’ll open up to you and tell you about his brother, and what hes been through
also mentioning about how his family pushes him to become an assassin, while he wants to choose his own path
hed really appreciate it when you calmly listen to him vent, it helps him trust you more, cracking some lighthearted jokes as well would help make it less awkward
“Killua, why do you get so red around (name)? I think you like (name)!”
Gon telling him things like that would make him even more flustered and bonk his head with a loud “Baka! of course I don’t like (name)…”
not very convincing
when Killua starts realizing his romantic feelings for you, he fails so hard at trying to hide it
constantly blushing around you more often, and shouts at Gon when he points it out in front of you
he loves your laugh as well, pretty much everything about you\
so overall it would take a while for him to warm up to you, but once he realizes he has a huge crush on you, its impossible for him to conceal it without you being suspicious<3
So my obsession with Illumi came to me writing this, not sure if any of this is any good but I just felt like sharing these hc’s I have for him. hope y’all enjoy<3
Oh… so THE Illumi Zoldyck has romantic feelings for you? Yeah good luck with that
He’d stalk you a bit without your knowledge, and if you ever caught him watching you from afar, he’d calmly approach you and call it “observing” to see if you were worthy to be an assassin/hunter
After you caught him, he’d be more up front about being around you, letting you know he has good intentions
We all know he’s not the best person to talk to about your feelings and emotions, but he’d hear what you’re going through as a way to get closer to you
He’ll want to know everythingabout you, from your favorite food and tv shows to your family members and loved ones
He’d also want to know if you’d be a good parent, since he’s a family man of course and he wants to continue the Zoldyck bloodline
If you don’t like kids, too bad, he’ll just teach you how to care for children and love them
If you do, well that’s great! He’ll see you as the perfect partner
When he invites you to the Zoldyck mansion, he of course introduces you to everyone, even Alluka
He wants to observe how you act around children, so he lets you hang around Killua and Alluka (if Killua is even home at the time) and maybe Kalluto, though he probably wouldn’t like to get too close to you after just meeting you
Silva and Kikyo would also be very suspicious, seeing how someone can love anyone like Illumi, so they assume you MUST be as crazy as they are
Milluki and Kalluto most likely wouldn’t care, while Zeno trusts Illumis choices so he wouldn’t interfere much
When you and Illumi are around Hisoka, he’d be more protective over you, knowing how Hisoka can be around people. So Illumi wouldn’t give Hisoka the chance to steal you away from him
If you and Hisoka were alone, Illumi would be close by hearing the conversation
Illumi would also be very calm around you, but still careful enough that he’s aware of his surroundings, as an assassin he must alwaysbe prepared for the worst
While he doesn’t show much emotion, he’d try to find ways to show you that he deeply cares for you
Simply spending time with you, getting you gifts here and there, and he already knows what you like and don’t like so there’s no need to worry!
Illumi would spar with you from time to time, to test your strength and see how weak or strong you are
If you’re the submissive kind of partner, he’d think you’re his ideal partner, but if you’re more aggressive and hotheaded, he’d try his best to let you show him your soft side, with enough convincing of course.
hhhh okay so I started this yesterday at 2 AM, and now finishing this as soon as I woke up, so if this is shitty that’s whyit’s my first time writing for Illumi so I hope it’s accurate, so thank you for reading
Killua: We just ate, why are you making pancakes? Gon: They’re for the dogs. Killua: Why are you making pancakes for the dogs? Gon: They don’t know how.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is awful here Big Time oh lord oh god oh no, unbalanced power dynamics. Word count:2.3k.
It was a testament to the poor quality of your company when every red light you received felt akin to personal torture.
Optimism, that’s what you need. Some adjustment in your mindset that will allow you to view this glass as half full rather than half empty. Optimism. How you loathe the word. You felt optimistic this morning, while eating warm pastries from the hotel’s continental breakfast on your room’s balcony. At lunch when you visited a café and found your drink was already covered, another customer had paid it forward. There was no way you could’ve predicted the sweet taste of the day turning dry and sour a few short hours later.
He’s saying something, you think, spinning pretty words from the loom that is his mouth. You pay him no mind. Rather, you find interest in the shifting landscape of your hometown, as observed from the passenger seat’s tinted windows.
The video rental shop you looked forward to visiting every Friday has been replaced by a liquor store. Your favorite diner is gone now too, the land bulldozed and the signs standing upon its grave promising ample warehouse space as soon as next year. How odd, since the day they promised potential leasers the project to be complete passed about five years ago. A waste, what a waste.
“Are you intent on ignoring me all night? That isn’t very mature of you, [First].”
Maybe you’d think better of it if you were in a clearer state of mind, since alcohol’s pleasant buzz holds you prisoner now, but you respond with unbridled antipathy.
“Did you expect me to be in a talkative mood?”
“When there’s so much to discuss, yes.”
He’s not wrong on that front. You’d rather cut your own tongue out than admit it, though.
“There isn’t anything to discuss,” your rebuttal comes swift. Panicked. “I just want to get back to my hotel and sleep.”
“Hence my driving you, dear.”
“No, you’re driving me because my mom insisted—”
The words lodge themselves in your throat and you make no effort to free them. It isn’t right. For him to be here, where you grew up. In the town where you got your first part-time job, begged your older sibling to drive you to the mall on the weekends so that you could hang out with your friends, crushed over a cute boy from your class who worked at the movie theater. Chrollo didn’t belong here. It’s intrusive, a violation, a breach of your personal privacy to the highest degree. If your body rejects foreign pathogens that would seek to do you harm, it only makes sense that you would give him the same treatment.
Home is supposed to be your sanctuary — his presence is defiling that. Corrupting and warping it as if to say you could never be rid of him. It didn’t matter if you locked the doors and held them shut. He would always find a way in. Always.
“Did you lose your train of thought?”
“Yes,” you lie without hesitation. He knows it, you’re certain he does, but he’s already claimed victory. In the aftermath of a battle, the victor takes inventory of what they’ve gained. That has to be what he’s doing now. Sorting through the spoils and gloating.
“A pity,” Chrollo confesses. Though you don’t look at him, you can tell he’s smiling by his voice alone. “I would’ve loved to hear your thoughts.”
“Somehow, I’m doubtful about that.”
Yet again, in another show of mockery from a cruel and indifferent universe, the traffic light overhead turns red upon your approach. Just like its predecessor. And the one before that. You’d think it was rush hour by the traffic lights alone, but it’s eleven o’clock at night, and you haven’t seen another car in minutes.
“On the topic of your family…” he trails off, purposeful in prolonging the silence, so that your suspense might accumulate. You grip your clutch tighter. “I wish I’d gotten to meet them sooner. We never got around to it, did we? Ah, the stories from your childhood were especially a delight. The senior photo in your father’s wallet was too. You’ll have to tell me what quote you picked sometime.”
You don’t want to think about it, you don’t want to think about it. How a murderer shook hands with your father. Made pleasant small talk with your mother. Discussed cars and current events with your brother. All the while you sat sinking in the restaurant’s booth, your appetite lost, forced to regurgitate some flimsy excuse about why your family had never met your oh-so charming ‘friend’.
“To think I’ve been your first boyfriend in such a long time, too. Your ex still lives in this town, doesn’t he? Working at that… hm, what was it… gas station. I wonder if I’ll get to meet him as well.”
“We are notdating, not anymore,” you remind him, aghast. “And that’s a respectable occupation, anyway.”
“By your father’s tone, he certainly didn’t seem to think so.”
That’s right. What an excellentjob Chrollo did at establishing himself as appealing in every prospect, from the choice sports car sitting in the parking lot for them to ogle over, to paying for everyone’s dinner by the night’s end. How they must’ve thought reciprocating his affections would be a no-brainer. Still, you place no blame on your family — everything is his fault from beginning to end. There was a time when you were similarly so blinded by his presence that you assumed there was no darkness to be found.
“You have zerobusiness judging the employment of others with the line of ‘work’ you’re in.”
“Perhaps. And yet,” with the hand not on the steering wheel, he motions to your person. “You have no problem wearing a dress I obtained from my despicable ‘line of work’.”
Heat rises to your face and situates itself there, letting you know it won’t be going away anytime soon.
The garment had already cast guilt on you. After discovering the truth behind Chrollo’s weeks of absence and seemingly endless pit of money, you rid yourself of every material item he’d ever given you. Bags, jewelry, purses, shoes, and clothes; they were either donated or thrown out as looking at them for too long nauseated you. This dress was the lone exception, not that arguing this point would do you any good. You were reminded of your cousin’s wedding and the subsequent need to fly home for it while ridding yourself of his gifts.
The high-end places you’d undoubtedly be attending for such an event spurred you to save one, just one, of his expensive presents. Never had you expected to “coincidentally run in” to him and be subjected to his torments over the moral ambiguity.
After what feels like an eternity, he turns into the hotel you were able to reserve on a limited budget; a potential light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe he’ll part ways with you here. Sever whatever connection bound you in the past, giving you freedom to pursue a future without him in the picture. He should feel satisfied over the agony he subjected you to this evening. For months, if not years, you’ll endure questions from your family about that fascinating stranger who happened upon you that one night and proved himself a desirable bachelor.
“Did you not work out? Have you ever thought about contacting him again? Maybe smooth things over?” Queries such as this would be your personal agony, handcrafted by the man in question himself.
“There’s no need to sit there and pout,” Chrollo reassures, though his words promise the opposite of that. “You look lovely in it. And as you said, I have no business judging others.”
He doesn’t, but he’s going to anyway.
You shrink into yourself when he places his arm behind the passenger seat, a habit you noticed he has whenever he backs up. Before, it birthed life to butterflies in your stomach, but now, you want to create as much distance as possible. No space would ever feel like enough.
He turns the keys in the ignition and the car’s humming falls silent.
For some time, the both of you sit there, neither moving nor making a sound. Your eyes remain firm on your lap while you can feel his stare searing into your profile. You’re agitated, at a loss on what to do, and most pressing of all, you’re tired. His presence promises more than ill-timed appearances and caustic words meant to eat away at your high defenses. Considering this, your stomach twists painfully. No amount of faux bravado on your part can hide your apprehension from him. He smells it out, like a shark sensing blood in water.
All you had in your arsenal were words, sharp yet ultimately harmlesswords. What he boasted in his… you dread the thought.
“What do you want, Chrollo?”
It’s not that you want to ask, but that you feel there’s no other option available. This was a merry-go-round ride that would keep spinning until one of you fell off, and if anyone was going to fall, it would be you.
“I’ll let you decide that.”
He sounds sincere, however, you know better than to believe that. Suspicion must be written all over your face. He takes your hand in his and you let him. You wonder if he knows it’s his hands you fear the most, rivaled only by his hollow eyes that at times appear omnipotent. As they do now. At any given moment, he could see all of you, while you saw a mere fraction of him.
Maybe it’s a blessing he revealed only so much. If you witnessed the full depths of his depravity, you might never surface for air again, drowning in a vat thicker than tar.
How can so much darkness permeate from another human being? It was times like this where you couldn’t be certain if he wasone.
“I’ll either stay or leave by your discretion,” he announces, causing your eyebrows to scrunch together. Just when you thought you’d taught yourself to expect the unexpected with him, he finds new ways to throw you off-balance.
This has to be a trick. Something is hiding in the fine print, and you’re intent on finding out. “What does you staying look like?”
“You were always quick on the uptake,” he’s pleased, evidently, a factor he makes known by pressing a chaste kiss to your hand. All your self-control goes into not pulling yourself free. It may have been intuition or paranoia, but something told you he’d sooner let you dislocate your shoulder than allow you to pull away. Not after he’s waited months for this.
“We’ll get out of this car together. You’ll let me into your hotel room — your bed — then your life. Your parents invited you to breakfast tomorrow, didn’t they? I’ll come with you. I’ll see your childhood home, look at old photo albums at your mother’s behest and laugh at the stories she tells me from your youth. I’ll compliment the arrangement of the furniture, how the colors go together just so. She’ll be simply taken with me. Your father, too, naturally. I’ve already begun to make excellent progress on that front.”
You don’t think you could breathe if you wanted to.
Chrollo leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper that made your earlier dinner want to claw back up your throat.
“I will attend your cousin’s wedding this weekend as your date. I’ll charm your aunts, impress your uncles. Play with your nieces and nephews. You can introduce me however you like. A friend, a colleague from work. They’ll know. They’ll read between the lines. They’ll ask when they can expect to see you walk down the aisle to me someday in the future. You can cry, if you so please, but they’ll simply mistake it as a maiden who is head over heels in love. I’ll tell them to keep their calendars free next June, and they’ll laugh, perhaps you will too.”
He squeezes your hand to anchor you. Otherwise, you think your mind would’ve given you the reprieve of going someplace else, someplace safe and sane and anywhere but here. Hell itself may be preferable, if you weren’t already there.
“I will insert myself so deeply into your life, that to cut me out, you’d have to slice into yourself as well.”
You’re trembling now, like a leaf caught in a hurricane, with no hope of ever reaching solid ground again. Pushed and pulled by the whims of a being that so plainly outclasses you in every category.
What could you do? What could you say? Did it even matter what approach you tried to take? The web was spun and you were caught. The more you struggle the deeper embedded you become.
So you play by his rules and voice yet another question you don’t really want to know the answer to.
“And…” your lips are dry, so terribly dry, as is your mouth, “If… if I ask you to leave?”
He pulls back — not that it matters. It still feels like he’s there, the warmth of his breath, the woody notes of his cologne. Haunting you. Dominating you. Asserting that this nightmare isn’t over, oh no, it’s just getting started.
“That’s simple,” Chrollo takes your pallid face in his hands, stroking your cheek, gazing down at your through thick eyelashes. What gleams in his lifeless eyes, you can’t say for certain. You think it might be best if you remain ignorant to it. “You’ll come with me.”
A kiss to your cheek. He lingers this time, you’re in no position to protest. He savors the closeness he brought by interlocking you to his person with ironclad handcuffs.
“So, what will it be? I stand by what I said earlier. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Be a dear and share them with me.”
Hisoka’s dick is the prettiest thing, measuring at 8-9 inches, uncut, and a girth wide enough you struggle to wrap your pretty little lips around it- he’s proud of it, the fact his dick is big enough for you to choke on.
His dick is quite pale, making it easy to see all of the veins: there is one larger vein leading from the top-side of the base up, slowing wrapping around to the underside of his dick. The tip is a pretty bubblegum pink - spongy against your tongue, he loves when you place soft kisses on it.
When erect, it curves a tiny bit to the left - perfect for when he’s fucking you, able to reach every spot and more.
As for grooming and hygiene, Hisoka is hairless everywhere and I mean everywhere. Not a speck of hair to be seen, but he doesn’t care if his partner has any. His dick taste like clean skin, nothing special about the smell either - he uses a scentless sensitive skin soap to wash.
Hisoka’s balls are average in looks, heavy and round and produce enough cum to flood your insides. If his goal is to breed you, it only takes one round to reach it - but don’t be fooled, Hisoka can last hours, cum enough to create a little bulge in your belly.
Hey guys, sorry I haven’t been posting often, I’ll get something out this week, I promise, but I need to ask a question.
If I were to start posting for other fandoms, which ones would you want? Should I make a second blog for other fandoms or no? I think this blog may be getting a little too crowded with fandoms, but if I should put them all into one that’s fine!
A/N: Includes Anime and Western TV shows, listed in alphabetical order.
I’m dipping my toes back into the anime fandom after four years so I’m not caught up on the mangas asdfghhjkl. I also dropped some series but still write for the show/characters.
Attack on Titan (no longer follow the series, don’t mind spoilers)
Levi Ackerman
Broadchurch
Alec Hardy
Black Butler (a few chapters behind)
Sebastian Michaelis
Undertaker
Gintama (very behind, last read in 2016)
Toshirou Hijikata
Kotarou Katsura
Gintoki Sakata
Shinsuke Takasugi
Haikyuu!! (up to date with the anime)
Aoba Johsai:
Hajime Iwaizumi
Tooru Oikawa
Fukurodani:
Koutarou Bokuto
Keiji Akaashi
Inarizaki: (more character’s to be added once I get their characterization right )
summary: the relationship between you and Pariston is dysfunctional, to say the very least. after he humiliates you at dinner, you still manage to fall into his arms because you were practically made for one another.
warnings: 18+, nsfw, rough sex, public sex, humiliation, degradation, overstimulation, face slapping
word count: 2,510
Your relationship with Pariston started as love and grew into a bond of codependency. He’s always been toxic, manipulating, and self centered. As years passed, traits that were once just characteristics of his personality took over his entire being. Had you known that he would end up this way, you would’ve never agreed to marry him. Your marriage is dysfunctional to say the very least but it’s never uneventful, always keeping you on your toes and bringing excitement to your life. Let’s be honest… You’re clearly missing a few screws for becoming his spouse in the first place. He has a twisted love for you that stops him from letting you go. Perhaps it’s how well you dismiss his stupidity, or how quick you are to put him in his place. Whatever it is, he plans to irritate you for the rest of his life and you’ll allow him to do so in exchange for him fucking you in an anger fueled frenzy. The two of you have a twisted attachment to one another.
Pariston would never admit this, but he frequently invites you out with the goal of embarrassing you in a public setting. You’ve picked up on this long ago and adamantly refuse to go out with him on the days when you don’t have the patience for his shenanigans. This time you couldn’t say no since he made reservations to eat at a restaurant that you’ve heard amazing reviews about. The wait list for this place is usually booked 3 months in advance and you’ll be damned if you’re going to turn down this opportunity.
Dressed in a scandalous strapless black dress and heels higher than you’re comfortable walking in, you grab your purse and leave Pariston in the house to continue getting ready. After waiting in the car for what felt like forever, he finally walks down the driveway in the glittery suit that you absolutely hate. He gets into the drivers seat and notices the amount of skin you’re showing this evening. “Looks like you’re desperate for attention tonight.” His voice is smug and he has a smirk on his face that annoys you. Taking a deep breath to stop yourself from lashing out already, you retort, “Says the man that’s wearing a glittery suit right now.” He makes a comment about how good he looks which goes right over your head while you pray that the food will be worth the headache he’ll cause. He drives to the restaurant awfully slow, taking the longest possible route. Clearly he’s trying to get a reaction out of you already.
After arriving at the restaurant, Pariston hands the car keys to the valet and the two of you make your way in, arms interlocked while walking on a literal red carpet walkway into the establishment. A waitress escorts you both to a circular booth. The menu is simple, offering only the best wines and champagne to accompany the high end meals they serve. You request a glass of the most expensive red wine and a tomato bruschetta as an appetizer which you both agreed on.
Once you’ve both enjoyed the wine and appetizer, the waitress takes your entree orders and informs you that the chef will personally deliver them to your table when they’re ready. This is no shock to you since a lot of the reviews mentioned how delightful it was to be introduced to the head chef when the main courses come out. Pariston hasn’t bothered you too much yet, but you know his antics will begin any second now. Instead of being caught by surprise, you clear your throat and begin to probe, “Mr. Hill, what have you got planned for tonight? We’re having such a lovely evening so far but I’m sad to admit that you’ll end up ruining this somehow.” He shoots you a seemingly innocent smile and doesn’t respond to you. Right when you decide to pry some more, you’re interrupted by the chef bringing your meals.
Dressed in a signature chef’s coat and hat, you feel like the person in front of you is familiar when he begins to speak. He sets down both of your meals and introduces himself. His last name is the same as your old college friend, and his voice is similar to what you vaguely remember. He explains the details of each dish while thanking you for taking the time to dine at the establishment. The chef’s eyes linger on you a tad bit longer and Pariston notices immediately. As if not to embarrass himself by asking whether you’re the person he thinks you are or not, he opts not to ask, the same route you had chosen as well. Instead, he gives a small smile and a nod before he excuses himself. In a condescending tone, Pariston queried, “Chef, wouldn’t it be rude not to say hi to Y/N since you two clearly know one another?” You kick him in the shin underneath the table while shooting a death glare his way. “I believe he’s a friend of mine from college. I apologize for not saying hello sooner. I wasn’t sure if it was actually you and didn’t want to put you on the spot. This is my husband, Pariston Hill. We’re looking forward to enjoying the food.” Your old friend, put off by the hostility coming from your husband, ushers off at the speed of light after apologizing.
The rest of dinner goes by quietly except the waitress checking in on your table. You try enjoy your food and there’s no doubt that it’s tasty but the appetite you had before vanished because of Pariston’s stupidity. Even after all of these years, you’re still irritated, but not surprised, when he humiliates you in front of people. Signaling for the waitress, she makes her way over and clears your entree dishes. Pariston requests a dessert and you politely ask to have it packed to go. He pretends to be shocked, knowing very well that you’re ticked off and ready to leave. “Yes, please make that to go. My wife is eager to get in my pants after this lovely dinner. She’s a real slut for the luxury things in life.” The waitress simply nods her head, clearly taken back by his brazen remark and ultimately feeling embarrassed for you. You feel heat rising up to your face and the urge to scream is almost suffocating. For Pariston’s sake, you take the valet ticket and go get the car. He struts out of the restaurant shortly after and jumps in the drivers seat, driving back towards your home.
“Really Pariston? First, you frighten the chef who happened to be an old friend of mine from college. Second, you made the waitress uncomfortable with your tasteless remarks. Neither one of them deserved to deal with your bullshit.” Thankfully you put your seatbelt on beforehand because he swerves the car abruptly and pulls into a wide alleyway. He steps out quickly, slamming the door behind him and makes his way around to your side with a sinister look on his face. Before he reaches for the door, you push it open, hitting him in the process while you get out.
“I couldn’t help myself when I seen you look at the chef the way you did. For all I know you probably took his cock before like the nasty slut you’ve always been.” You suck your teeth, the scowl on your face is prominent and Pariston is happy to see you getting worked up. Truthfully, you and the chef were only platonic friends. You’re just pissed off because your shitty husband made a scene in front of someone who has only ever been kind to you. He continues, “Also, what I said to the waitress wasn’t a lie, was it? You’d let me take you right here if I tried to. Wouldn’t you, whore?” Brushing passed him to stand in front of the hood of the car, he follows you and grabs you by your throat from behind. His teeth and lips attack your neck, littering you in hickies while he holds you with an iron grip. If you were anybody else you’d be disgusted by him, but degrading you has become a guaranteed method for him to get between your legs. It’s routine at this point for the words Pariston throws at you to send arousal coursing through your body. He wasn’t always like this but as your relationship strengthened throughout the years, you became more familiar with his true colors. He has to uphold a facade because of the public eye but with you, he lets himself be exactly who he really is. A cunning, sharp man who thinks everything is a game.
Pariston grabs your arm and turns you to face him. Your face is flushed and the only smile directed towards him tonight is the one on your face right now. He presses a finger to your lips, signaling you to open with less force than you prefer. His other hand swiftly pulls your dress down, releasing your breasts from their confinement. The breeze makes your nipples perk up and he wastes no time squeezing the bud while you suck on his fingers. He can sense how badly you want him to pummel into you right here.
Not one to give into your desires without some teasing, he tuts his teeth while looking down at you in disapproval. “How shameless are you? Look where we’re at. A dirty alleyway.” Pariston knows that you don’t take his words seriously, but he wishes they would hurt you even a bit. You pull him between your legs, leaning back onto the car hood with him hovering over you. He’s been a troublesome prick the entire night and you show him no mercy while shoving his face between your breast. The deep groan that resonates from him makes your chest and shoulders vibrate. His mouth finds its way to your nipple, sucking passionately before biting down hard enough to make you cry out. You guide his hand between your legs, brushing his fingers against your clit that’s begging for attention. You knew the night would come to this and even though this is nothing new for the two of you, the exhilarating feeling rushing through your body is nothing short of intoxicating.
Pariston unzips his pants, already hard cock on display. Thankfully you wore the thinnest g-string you own, he easily moves the fabric to the side and fully sheathes himself into your slick heat. His hips unrelentingly slap against yours, making you wince at his long length hitting your deepest spot. You throw your head back and notice the apartment windows above you on either side. Some of the lights are on, some off. Anybody could look out of their window and see you right now, the wife of Mr. Hill, getting railed in an alleyway on top of a car that costs more than an average person’s house.
Your legs are wrapped tightly around Pariston’s waist. His hands are on either side of you, holding himself up while he thrusts into you hard enough to shake the car beneath you. Blonde hairs drape over his face, covering his eyes from your view. The only feature you can see are his lips that he’s biting because of how your cunt is sucking him in. For someone who’s always teasing you, it’s a pleasure to see him coming undone with every stroke of your walls. You yank his chin to look at you, grabbing his arm and positioning his hand to play with your clit. “Is my tight little cunt too much for you? Fucking make yourself useful Pariston. This isn’t just about your pleasure now, is it?” A devious smile adorns his face as he accepts your challenge.
Pariston pinches your clit, watching your face contort into a frown that quickly goes away once he starts to swirl his finger. Focusing on your climax now, he slowly pulls out of your soaked cunt before plowing back in. His free hand traces up your stomach, between your breast and soon finds its way to rest on your cheek. Your mind is in a daze from your orgasm that’s building and your legs start to tremble as his finger works rapidly against your clit. You grit your teeth because of the overstimulation and shoot him a glare that makes him slap you right across your face. The sting isn’t too bad, only being amplified by the breeze hitting your skin. When his finger presses against your clit at the right moment, you’re done for. The knot in the pit of your stomach snaps, making your walls clench around his length as he grinds into you. All of the built up tension from tonight leaves your body, you almost want to thank him for being such a pain in the first place. His finger still gently circles your clit even after your orgasm washes over, because any way of torturing you is amusing to him.
Pariston releases his finger from your clit and stands straight up, pulling you by your hips until your ass is hanging off the edge of the car. Your knees are resting over his shoulder and he presses kisses onto your ankles. He stops and looks down at your tight lips clutched around his cock that’s completely soaked in your essence. Too caught up because of the adrenaline flowing through him, he grabs you rather roughly by your arms and pulls you close to him with your legs still folded over his shoulders. In the blink of an eye your back is pressed against a brick wall and he’s rutting into you effortlessly while you’re folded into a pretzel, grabbing his shoulders for any semblance of balance. Sharp stinging pains pin through your back, you realize he’s thrusting into you so harshly that your skin is scraping against the brick wall. Repaying the gesture from earlier, you pull his head back by his hair with one arm and slap him in the face with your other hand. Like the unabashed man he is, the slap pushes him to his climax. He smiles brightly while spilling his seed into you, stroking your walls until every bit is released.
Pariston pulls out of you but doesn’t let you down. Instead, he carries you to the passenger seat and opens the door before setting you down softly in the seat. “Why would I ever stop messing with you if we always end the night like this? Seriously you’re perfect for me!” For the first time tonight, you agree with what he says. Really you are perfect for him, and vise versa. Not many people would be able to deal with his antics and he definitely has a few loose screws, just like you. The two of you might not be a normal couple but you’re both satisfied in your marriage and looking forward to spending the rest of your entertaining lives together. It’ll be fun, at least.
You had honestly started to think you were spending more time in Kite’s underground ‘office’ than your own home. If you were to time it, it would probably be true. You had been there for days, permitted to sleep on the couch there without worry while you worked. A lot had happened while you researched this plant and created antidotes for it. The spice of life only got hotter as this project went on.
In the time you spent there, you had finally gotten to meet some of the Amateur Hunters that Kite spoke of. They were all incredibly sweet and weren’t bothered at all by your sudden presence. In fact, they helped you work when Kite wasn’t there, making your job infinitely easier since you had picked up extra jobs thanks to this recent discovery.
It was now your duty to report to the Association and two other individual clients with any scientific updates on antidote production and success. Information was being relayed back and forth like crazy as these people used your info to help locate the organization, constantly keeping you on your toes. Luckily the internet in the office was high security so you could communicate these things easily without needing to get burner phones as you usually did. The privilege of a date with Kite landed you with a lovely base to work from; a lot more than what you expected to come of your strange fondness for the man.
Currently you worked on a more refined version of the antidote from a few days ago. The first one you made worked, but it was slow and not strong enough. The next few days had been spent refining it and making it fast acting, just in case something ever happened to you. The amount of people sent to follow you around had you admittedly a little worried, so you spent a lot of time inside to develop it, and also avoid the general interaction of being stalked. There was another small reason you stayed as well, which was for Kite. It was starting to become necessary to have interactions with the man. You were truly captured by him.
At the moment, you sat in the lounge with Kite and one of his Amateur Hunters, Spinner. All three of you were going through the massive folder once more to see if there was something you overlooked. There were pieces of information still missing, and you desperately needed to get to the bottom of this whole operation.
“This is the third run through of this folder. I hate this.” You groaned.
“We might have to go back to that lab if we want to find additional info.” Kite sighed.
“Hell no. They’ve probably come back and doubled down on security. I’m good, but I do not feel like putting in the effort today.”
“You’re quite lazy for an assassin.” Spin chuckled.
“RIghtfully so!” You remarked. “Being on the verge of death every assignment is exhausting.”
The two of them nodded in agreement, noting the high stress nature of your job. Meanwhile, you threw down your stack of papers and picked up the manilla folder again, shaking the empty thing like it would magically produce what you needed in the moment.
“Give me info you stupid folder.”
You fell back on the couch and held the folder up to the light, just as a regular gesture of frustration. There was no expectation for something to come of it, but something did. There was a darker patch in the folder, meaning that something was there to block out the light. You rocketed back upright, flipping the folder over.
“Now way…”
Your muttering caught Kite and Spin’s attention, and they watched you peel back a small panel on the folder, revealing a folded up piece of paper. Everyone was equally dumbfounded, putting their papers down to watch you instead.
“Are we blind?? This is a joke, right?” You laughed.
“Nope. We… all missed that.” Kite said with a shake of his head.
“Well now I just feel goofy.” Spin chuckled. “C’mon, what’s it say?”
You read it over in your head quickly, the silence in the room being deafening. When you finished, you looked up at the two of them with your lips drawn into a thin line.
“This is what I was looking for. The organization name, the real man in charge, everything. I have to get this to my client asap so we can shut this down.”
“How convenient. You’re right, they are kind off stupid. Keeping a piece of information like that all in one folder, albeit behind a hilariously clever disguise, is incredibly stupid.” Kite noted.
“I’ll leave this with you. It’s better I deliver this info verbally so there’s no paper trail to follow.” You said, standing from the couch. “I’ll be in touch. Everyone I need to speak with is at headquarters right now.”
“Be careful out there!” Spin called as you ran off.
“I will! Can’t go dying on my new friends now can I?’ You called back, that usual grin of mischief on your face.
Off you went towards the main building of the Hunter’s Association, running as fast as you could. It would only take you fifteen minutes from your current location running, so you’d be able to get a bigger team on this case very quickly. It excited you to finally have the details you needed to close down this operation. You were getting quite sick of all your free time being plagued with possible death, thereby ruining your interactions with Kite. A proper date would be in order once everything was over.
When you arrived, you made quick work of delivering the information. You met up with your clients and higher members of the association in a closed off lounge, telling them every bit of information you had; from where they were located, who was in charge, and the intentions behind the operation. It was of great urgency, so once you had told them everything, a message was sent off to find a large team to take down the operation immediately. There was a very high chance you’d be involved too because of your skill, but you didn’t mind. It was the price of being as good as you were, and knowing as much as you did. The operation would take place later today, so it was suggested you get ready for the call.
You accepted of course and said you’d relay the info to Kite as well since you’ve been working with him. Everyone around you agreed, and finally you took off to return to the underground lab and get ready. Things were sure to get messy now.
“This crap is almost over. I hate it when things drag on too long.” You sighed to yourself as you ran down the street. “Maybe I can finally have a moment’s peace after all this is over.”
Your words were like a jinx. The moment you muttered to yourself something whizzed past your face, startling you and making you whip around. There was yet another moron in pursuit of you, except this time, his skill wasn’t moronic. Just the fact that he was initiating a fight in the middle of the street where everyone could see.
“Do you people ever lay off??” You hollered, throwing yourself back to stop him.
“Not until you’re dead!” He retorted.
It was an even strike. You landed a lethal punch to the guy’s throat, but he too landed a hit on you. It was with a knife, so it was hardly fair, but the blade only grazed you just enough to make a cut about an inch or two deep across your shoulder. Your hit was worse, crushing the entire structure of his neck.
“Fat chance of that happening.” You snorted, allowing the man to crumple on the sidewalk.
“You’d better think twice. My blade… was… taint…ed.”
It was hard to make out the words from the airy noises of a dying man with a crushed airway, but you heard them. Panic rose on your face, and you looked down at the now festering cut on your shoulder. A sickly green substance lingered at its edges, being the cause of the unique pain you felt.
“Fuck. Fuck! Fucking shit!” You cursed, rightfully panicked.
All you could do was run. You had ten minutes tops to get back to Kite’s lab before it was too late. You grabbed your phone from your pocket and called him. There was no chance you’d make it before your body shut down. You just knew it.
“Kite, open the door to the lab. Now. I won’t be able to by the time I get there, that is if I get there.” You spoke frantically into your phone.
“Why?? What happened?” Kite responded, feeling the urgency in your voice.
“I was followed again. Nicked by a poison coated knife. I have ten minutes at best, remember? Get the antidote ready and be prepared for me to fall down those damn stairs. I feel heavy already…” You heaved. “Need to hang up. Can’t hold phone…”
You left him with that. It was surely all he needed to get into gear. The feeling in your arms was already becoming lost to you, so you jammed your phone in your pocket and pressed on before your legs gave out next. You had to at least make it to the entrance, so you ran as fast as your slowly numbing body would let you.
Looking like a drunken fool you weaved through people in a poor attempt to get back to the lab. Your legs were going next, every step becoming heavy as you forced yourself to carry on. You were so close, almost in the alley with the underground door, but your body failed you. Clearly they still had some files, because the effectiveness of the drug was a lot faster than you expected it to be. Collapsing on the pavement of the alley, you forced yourself to use all your centered weight to throw yourself forward as you toppled down just enough to get to the stairs, tumbling down them like a ragdoll. Whatever got you there was all that mattered, and Kite was there to meet you.
“Shit.” Kite muttered to himself when he swung open the door.
Seeing your body lying there was painful. Your body was battered, bruised, and visibly in dysfunction, completely limp. He picked you up without a second to spare and brought you inside, antidote already in his pocket.
“It’s really hard to breathe.” You laughed halfheartedly. “This is not a cool feeling.”
“Don’t talk.”
Kite laid you down on the lounge couch and sat next to you, pulling the antidote from his pocket in a syringe. No time was wasted as he injected the whole thing into your bloodstream, hoping that it would work quickly. Once he finished the injection, he took a solution soaked cloth from the counter and cleaned off your cut, preventing any further toxins from getting in and counteracting the antidote. It was a sick waiting game now, and it wasn’t looking good.
Despite the injection, your body continued to shut down. Your eyes could no longer keep themselves open, and your breaths became so small and weak your lungs were surely giving up on you. Kite waited with bated breath, holding firmly to your wrist to monitor your pulse. It was weak, slow… and then finally stopped.
“No… no we worked on this for days…” He whispered weakly.
For the first time in a long time, tears welled up on his waterline. He still held onto your wrist with desperation, praying for a pulse to an unknown god.
Thump
There it was. Twenty seconds had passed, and it was faint…
Thump… Thump…
A pulse had returned, and after a few more hopeful seconds, a dramatic breath came from you, far from graceful at all. You gasped desperately, sucking in as much air as your body would let you as you shot upright on the couch, following up with a nasty cough. So much relief washed over Kite’s expression, extremely happy to see your sweat coated face breathing again.
“Wow. That’s some scary shit. Not breathing? I don’t recommend trying that at all.” You choked out, your cynical sense of humour having made its grand return.
Kite did not respond to your joke though. Usually he did, and when you looked straight at him to see what was up, you were met with a hand to your cheeks. You flushed red instantly, admittedly a little confused.
“Ah, was it a bad joke?” You asked nervously.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it…” He mumbled.
“Ahah, neither did I honestly. I’m just an assassin though. I’m sure someone could take my place if I fucked up too badly.” You sighed. “Speaking of, the Association is sending down a team in a few hours. The operation should come to an end hopefully. I should get ready for that.”
You tried to move, but Kite disallowed you to do so. He gripped your arm a little tighter, but still held your face so very tenderly. It was rather unexpected, your heart skipping a beat or two.
“H-hey, don’t fuck up my heartrate right after I got it back.” You huffed.
“I’m calling the Association and telling them to send someone else besides you. I need you to stay here.” He said firmly.
“Kite why-”
“You’re not just some replaceable assassin, ______. In fact, you’ve become irreplaceable to me. Let me take a damn moment to be grateful you didn’t die today.” He spoke softly.
His long fingers reached behind your head, gently pulling you forward. There was a moment of hesitance from him, but he brushed past it and closed the distance between you with a kiss; a very long awaited gesture filled with gratefulness.
The second time was most certainly better than the first. It could be the atmosphere or the inherent gravity of the situation you were just in, but feeling your lips against his again made you melt into a feeling you never thought you’d get to feel again. Cheek pressed into his hand, you returned his kiss with equal sweetness, lost in the moment until he parted from you once more.
Your eyes were half lidded, and your body at ease once more. You had run your toughness into the ground, simply accepting things as they were now. The heat of your cheeks radiating against his skin was no longer embarrassing, settled with the fact that you did indeed love and appreciate him a whole hell of a lot more than you let on.
“Well damn. I guess I can’t say no to that.” You hummed, earning a breath of laughter from him.
“I’ve grown to appreciate your presence quite a bit. I’d like to keep you around. I think we’d make a great hunting team if I’m being honest… but perhaps we’d make a nice couple as well… if you’d dare delve into a partnership like that, that is.” He suggested meekly.
You huffed, a soft smile spreading on your face. “Is it odd that I was hoping for that? I mean, we’ve only met just a few weeks ago but…”
“I think ‘love at first sight’ applies here. I’m not one to believe in that but… You’ve changed my mind.” He admitted.
“How mysterious. The assassin has claimed a new victim I guess~” You hummed, shifting yourself forward to lean into him.
The pressure of your shoulder against his made you wince though, completely forgetting that you had been cut a solid couple of inches deep there. You cursed, and saw the blood on his shirt.
“Fuckin’ hell… Sorry. I’m a bloody mess aren’t I?”
“A mess I’d be happy to take care of. It’s a shirt, don’t worry about it.” Kite said softly, turning so you could lean your other shoulder against him. “Take that rag on the table. It’s saturated in a solution containing traces of the antidote. While you hold it against your cut I’ll call the Association and get someone else on the job. Then I can take care of you from there.”
“How sweet~” You hummed, taking the mentioned cloth.
“You don’t mind, do you?” He asked.
You paused for a moment, then sighed. It was getting really tiring to constantly hold yourself together in such a way. He’d just confessed, and given you a second kiss. It… was fine now.
“No. I don’t mind one bit. I think… I deserve a break.” You sighed, cutting the crap as you leaned all your weight into him, the cloth pressed to your shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind being taken care of for once…”
“I’ve finally gotten past the mysterious assassin’s steel walls, it seems.” He smiled.
“Once again: how dare you.” You joked. “I dunno what it is about you, but I can’t help but trust you. Maybe it’s your eyes, and that streak of curious authenticity I see in them.”
“That trust will not be broken.” He then assured you.
“God I hope not. I’ve… always wanted to love someone again…”
“So you do feel something for me~” Kite teased, taking his chance.
“Hey, c’mon man… I’m already red as a beet. Knock it off.” You mumbled with a shy smile. “Make that call already, you hooligan.”
“I’ve been dying to see this side of you, I must admit.” He chuckled.
“Actually, I think I am the one who has been dying.” You shot back in jest.
Both of you laughed, the joke situationally hilarious. You decided to cease your jokes there though, nuzzling against his shoulder to completely relax now. The moment was nice, and you wanted to bask in it for as long as you possibly could. You hadn’t let down your walls in quite some time. It was nice, for a change, to have someone else to lean on for once.
Kite shifted a little so you could both lean back on the couch, wrapping an arm around you to keep you close. Your eyes closed once more, focusing only on keeping the rag against your skin. He would work on patching you up after he made the call. The first step was ensuring you wouldn’t be bothered by any contracts for the next couple of days. From there, both of you could indulge in this mysterious love that blossomed between you.
You’d never been so excited to be woken up by your text tone. Where you normally would have yelled a voice command for it to shut up or throw the device across the room, you were eager instead and opened the message that had been sent to you. It was a text from Kite the next afternoon, the day you said you’d be completely free. You were indeed still free, and you would not be letting this chance slip away.
_>I have a place in mind, if that’s alright. It’s a cafe near the office I rent out in the city for meetings.
<_ Sounds good to me! I’ll see you in a few then~
He then sent you the address of the cafe and you heaved out a breath. You were honestly thinking about your last interaction; that being the impromptu kiss, wondering if you might get another one sometime soon. Since you were finally having a regular date as planned, you may just have a chance.
For once, you dressed in something a little nicer than just black. You didn’t go crazy, but you added just a little hint of colour to your usual dark attire. Combat pants were just too convenient to give up, so accented colour via belts would have to do, and perhaps a different colour tank top than black this time. The subtle changes were usually for the better, so you went with it and carried on out your door, ready to go have that long awaited coffee.
You walked on confidently through the city streets towards the cafe, head buzzing with thoughts of seeing Kite again. It was relatively nice to be so airy and careless for once, thinking of simpler silly things instead of work and death. You really wished you could drift off in thought like that just a little bit longer, but unfortunately, your sixth sense had something to warn you about, and your peripheral vision confirmed it.
The same person kept ending up in your vision on the side. Wherever you went, after a while, you were able to confirm that you were indeed being followed. This annoyed you greatly. You just wanted one damn moment of peace where you could enjoy the company of Kite without being forced into a job, or being threatened. This was starting to become an issue, which meant that the chances of it being related to the lab again were even higher.
“I’m getting real sick of this shit.” You muttered to yourself.
You were almost at the cafe by now, so there was no point in sending a warning text to Kite. It didn’t look like the guy had any intent on attacking yet, or any time soon at least. You’d just tell him in person, which is exactly what you did. As soon as you set foot in the rather adorable looking cafe you spotted Kite and made a beeline for him, joining him at the table he sat at.
“Good afternoon. What’s with the sour face? Aren’t you happy to finally have some free time to chat?” Kite teased.
“I am… I’m just not happy about being followed here.” You sighed, eyes still darting around.
The look on Kite’s face sank a little. This was definitely getting to be more than just a little annoying.
“Again? My… we can’t catch a break, can we?”
“No. There’s…. It’s something to do with that lab. I know it is. What was in those documents you took back with you?” You suddenly asked, making direct eye contact with him. “I wasn’t really briefed on anything; just told to kill the head scientist. What little research I did wasn’t enough either. All I know is it was a paralytic drug of sorts that had plans to be used against people, and ended up being tested on animals in that sector of the forest. What were they working on in there…”
“… You’re not that far off.” Kite mumbled, recalling the contents of the documents. “It’s a lethal narcotic. A heavily altered one at that.”
“What??”
“They were attempting to breed a plant that naturally produced lethal amounts of a psychoactive compound in small doses. The goal was to make something that paralyzes within minutes, eventually causing your body to shut down and die all before ten minutes can pass. It’s essentially a bioweapon, and it was going to be used to control people, animals, as well as many other less than pleasant side experiments.” Kite elaborated in a low tone.
“Are you fuckin’ serious? This… this is an issue I shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in. I literally couldn’t get any more info on this when I asked…” You huffed, feeling a sort of panic.
Just then, the cafe door swung open again, another customer walking in; or rather what seemed like a customer. You recognized the face of the man who walked in, and turned your head back to Kite. You didn’t want to look concerned or suspicious. Not yet.
“That’s the guy who was following me.” You whispered. “I don’t know what the hell he’s after, but there’s a high chance it’s my life. I’ve fucked up one too many of this organization’s plans.”
“I have a suggestion: we stay a while, enjoy some coffee like we wanted to and act normal to try and get a read on this guy. After a while we can leave for my office. It’ll be safe there, and we might be able to get rid of this one’s prying eyes somewhere in between as well.” Kite offered, giving you a rather solid option for a plan.
“How safe is safe?” You asked, rightfully paranoid.
“It’s underground, key and passcode locked.”
“Cool. I like that. I like that a lot actually. When we leave, let me go first, and you wait for him to follow after me. Cover my back, in case he pulls some shit I wouldn’t normally expect. I can only imagine they’ll be sending better trained people after both of us since they’ve failed once already.”
“A solid point. I can do that. Here’s the exact coordinates of the door I use to get in. We’ll meet at roughly the same time and I’ll get us inside.” He nodded, settled on the plan.
“Nice. Thanks. I guess… another less than normal date it is then.” You huffed.
You and Kite ordered your coffees and tried your best to make lighthearted chat. It didn’t last long though, both of you on high alert and constantly glancing at the suspicious individual just on the other side of the cafe. The conversation had turned back into talking about the documents, trying to figure out how to stop these attacks at the source. Neither of you, nor your clients, or the Association had a clue on where the root of the problem was. There would be many days of investigation to come now for sure.
Once you had both agreed it was better to get a look at the documents again and see what further information could be inferred, you made your move to leave while Kite still sat, waiting patiently. You dropped off your cup at the counter and thanked the barista for the drink, taking your leave. Seconds later, just as you had predicted, the stranger you assumed was following you got up and left the cafe, keeping his distance but very clearly following behind you. This irritated every nerve Kite had. He rose from his seat and did the same as you with his cup before briskly following after you. He didn’t have time to wait and see if he’d be able to hold you again, or just your limp body instead. He would be preventing the latter at all costs, because for the love of everything holy on this planet he needed to spend some more time with you.
You were smart, luckily taking a detour to the marked coordinates he gave you. The office was only a couple blocks away, but you purposefully went in the opposite direction before looping back around the block to head towards it. This gave enough time for your pursuer to make a move, if he was bold enough to do so; which he was. The idiot really pushed you into an alley about a minute later, but once again idiots were sent after you.
Jammed into another alley out of sight, the man genuinely tried to pin you with a knife, but you were no simple informant or collector: you were an assassin. It wasn’t long before you flexed and turned the tables, knocking your pursuer to the asphalt with an arm twisted behind his back and a knife pressed close to his vitals.
“What is with you people and alleys, huh? Always chasing me into ‘em like the outcome is gonna be any different than the last.” You scoffed. “Why the fuck are you following me and Kite around?”
“Gck, give us back our research documents and we’ll stop pursuing you, you prick- gah!”
“Making demands while under my knife? Oh you are bold.” You laughed, shoving his arm further back to its most painful point. “Why do you need ‘em back? Hmm? What’s in there? What do you plan on doing with a narcotic so strong?”
“Go fuck yourself.” The man choked out.
That instant, you heard a strange noise, and a long scythe blade curled into existence right before you under your pursuers neck. It was quite a fantastical sight to see, until your eyes crossed the goofy little clown at the end of it.
“You’re supposed to buy your dates drinks first, idiot.” Kite spoke casually.
He gave an upward pull so fast you would’ve missed it if your nose wasn’t two inches from his blade. Your hair rustled from the breeze his scythe created, and the head of your pursuer was sliced clean off, flying off to the side. Needless to say you were impressed, slowly panning your vision up to meet Kite’s eyes.
“For once, a good roll. A very good roll indeed.” He mused.
“Ohnow I get compliments? ‘S about time man!” The end of his scythe hollered at him.
“Please go away…” He then groaned, causing his weapon to disappear into thin air. “Now where have I seen this scene before?”
Kite offered you his hand, and you snorted. You were kind enough to actually pull yourself up instead of yank him down into a dead body, but the thought did cross your mind.
“That was pretty clean. Seems you’re a conjurer then. I learn a little more about you every day~” You hummed.
“You can learn a little more if we get down to the office. They’re far, but I can feel some unpleasant presences coming to this spot.”
“Your en is that good? Wow. Seems we all have our boons and banes. Before we go though-” You paused, bending down to reach into the corpse’s pocket and pull out a syringe. “We should take this with us. This idiot really brought the poison with him. It’s a perfect studying opportunity.”
Kite nodded and both of you moved quickly to get to your destination. Neither of you had the time to waste on more idiots trying to kill you. Thankfully the office in question was only the next block over, Kite leading you to a stairway that took you underground and past some pretty intense locks. When you were finally inside though…
“This is NOT, a fuckin’ office.” You stated, looking around the massive room.
Massive was perhaps an understatement. To your left was a lounge and bar, before you was the main room with ten computers, and further beyond that was an entire laboratory; small for a lab, but incredible to witness in what you were told would be an ‘office’.
“What? We’ve got computers, a workspace, and a resting area. Sounds pretty much like an office to me.” Kite chuckled.
“This is a damn bunker of madness. You call it an office for cover, right? That has to be it. This is incredible!” You complimented.
“I suppose that is why, yes. ‘Underground secret lab’ isn’t exactly an inconspicuous name.” He joked. “I need a safe place for my Amateur Hunters and I to get work and research done, and Swardani City is a convenient center point for meeting. We use this place often, and you’re welcome to use it yourself as well. I have a spare key so you can hide yourself, since you keep attracting killers.”
“I’d hope I’m attracting other things among killers after all this time.” You hinted, looking him up and down again.
You walked off before he could say anything, headed straight for the lab to do a little more serious work. The contents of that syringe were on your mind, and you wanted to do a test right away. With Kite left hanging, he sighed and followed after you, holding off on witty responses for the moment.
Kite watched as you started examining the collected poison right away, as if you’d always been a lab worker and knew exactly what to do. Perhaps you had been at one point though; he didn’t know. Regardless of your knowledge, it only mattered that it was enough, a thoughtful noise coming from you after a few minutes.
“This is… wild. I mean, a milliliter of this stuff could kill in minutes with how strong it is. Hell, if this entered through a cut anywhere, the best you’d have to get an antidote is ten minutes tops.” You muttered blankly. “What kind of shit did I get myself mixed up in…”
“This problem seems to have grown exponentially. I’ll make sure to get you that key as soon as possible. You can work here safely. The walls are steel and your signal can’t be tracked. Use our encrypted internet to work with ease.” Kite offered once more.
“Yeah. I’ll be taking you up on that one. Hah, it seems every time we try to have a simple date it gets screwy. I apologize for dragging you along into this mess of mine.” You sighed.
“Honestly, it’s quite alright. It was partially my business as well. Besides, I quite enjoy the excitement for once. Work has gotten a lot more interesting with you around.” He hummed.
You laughed, picking through the papers in the file on the table and pulling out a specific one with big red letters reading ‘antidote’ across it.
“I’m glad you enjoy my presence then. That’s a huge compliment for me~” You replied. “Now, I’m no botanist, but I’m gonna take a hack at making the antidote to this ridiculous drug. This was already clear intent of wanting to use what they have left against us, so we should be ready just in case one of us gets hit.”
“A wise choice. You’re free to use the lab here as long as you need.” He nodded.
“Sweet~”
“So, pardon my suggestion but do you think we could carry on with that date of ours? It’s safe here, so we can speak freely without worry. How about it~?” He asked.
“Ah yes, the date! I have been meaning to ask a little more about your nen ability. I’ve never seen someone argue with their ability before, I must say.” You laughed.
“Nowthis will be an interesting conversation indeed.”
You and Kite yammered on a little more freely now all while you worked on whipping up some antidotes for this viciously strong drug. It was convenient that the solution to the problem was so easy to access for you, which was probably why the organization that originally owned the documents wanted them back so badly. For now though, you had time to work on this small project in peace, getting to know Kite a little more along the way.
He hovered over your shoulder while you worked, helping out here and there while enjoying the closeness. The conversations you had were intellectual yet flirty, slipping in little pickup lines or compliments in between topics. It was a lovely way to carry on the date, the two of you bumping shoulders a lot more often than you thought you were.
Perhaps love at first sight was real. Both of you thought about that kiss from yesterday, but neither of you bothered to address it. There was a much more dire situation to be concerned about at the time, but the thought still lingered, both of you wondering if you’d get the opportunity to do it again. After this mess was a little more organized, perhaps. For now, this scientific date would be enough.
summary: you unknowingly spilled coffee on one of the world’s most notorious criminal masterminds, completely destroying an old book he had just acquired. to apologize, you insist on at least repaying him by lending your copy of the book you’d ruined.
tags: eventual smut, coffee shops (not an au), strangers to lovers, mild gaslighting
wc: 2670
a/n: soooo i got hired at starbucks and couldn’t think of a prompt for chrollo to write about. now i accidentally planned out three more chapters. goddamnit. this is more like a prologue than anything else, all the nsfw will be next chapter, this is just for establishing stuff. this was originally gonna be like a paragraph of backstory but i got way too into it. i just wanna go on a book date with chrollo is that so much to ask??
Working as a barista, it’s surprisingly easy to learn people’s names and faces. If they come in often enough you can recount every detail of their regular order.
But you’ve never seen him here before.
He sat in the corner booth, completely enveloped in whatever book he was reading. Dark hair fell in waves around a bandage wrapped tight around his head. It was what made him stand out when you walked into work. After all, you wouldn’t have been able to forget someone as mysterious or handsome.
Walking up with notepad and pen in hand, you hesitantly cleared your throat to get his attention. “Hello, sir, what can I get for you today?”
Your customer service routine shattered when he looked at you, a placid smile on his lips that didn’t manage to reach those big grey eyes, “An espresso with four shots is all, thank you.”
Nodding quickly, you felt a feint blush on your cheeks that might work to gave you away. Especially because you couldn’t trust your voice not to stutter under the pressure of his stare so you gave a polite bow before hurrying away behind the counter. Trying to push any idle thoughts of the customer from your mind, you let yourself get wrapped up in making the best espresso of your life. When it was finally done you carefully placed it on the tray, walking over to the corner booth with a smile on your flushed face.
But you were so focused on catching a glimpse of whatever book he was reading that you completely ignored the child who suddenly rushed past you as his mother called him to leave. You couldn’t help but shriek when you felt your feet trip over themselves as you tried to avoid the stampeding nine-year-old.
Your hand flailed out to grab the corner of the nearest table as you fell, gravity somehow feeling ten times heavier as the cup you were carrying spilled onto the corner table.
Wait, the corner table—
A stab of realization cut through you, nearly slipping again when you scrambled up to stand. Turning wildly to look at the bandaged customer, you saw the tell-all stain of scalding coffee covering the previously white fabric of his shirt, steam rising steadily off the reddened, afflicted skin.
You were horrified, hands waved wildly in front of you as you stuttered out one apology after another, “A—Are you alright? Shit,um…fuck, I-I’m so sorry, sir— Full refund, no charge I—oh god,” hastily pulling a rag from your apron, you instantly tried to soak up whatever you could from the stains on his arm. But after that you were still a bit too mortified to look your short-lived crush in the eye.
You were expecting him to cry out in pain or maybe yell at you for your clumsiness, but he didn’t. In fact, he hadn’t said a word yet. The stranger didn’t seem to mind having boiling coffee poured on him, all things considered. He must’ve had a truly astounding pain tolerance.
“No, It’s alright…” he muttered, looking dejectedly at the book that laid in front of him. Your heart sunk further down to your stomach when you saw the pages stained with coffee, dark like ink. Frantically, you switched from trying to dry him off to trying to save his book, but it was too late. The espresso had already soiled the pages, its words completely illegible under the brown smear.
Despite that, you tried your hardest to resurrect the novel, dabbing at the worst pages with fistfuls of napkins. A few frustrated tears formed in your eyes once you realized there was no saving it.
Slowly, you turned back to look at him.
You wished he was upset. It would’ve been so much easier if he just yelled at you. But instead he ran his fingers over the soaked pages, a disappointed sigh leaving his lips at the loss of his book.
“I’ll buy you a new one! I-I can have it for you by tomorrow,” he shook his head, sitting up from the chair and inspecting how soaked his clothes were. It wasn’t too bad, but the stain on his sleeve would probably never fully wash out.
“No, that’s… It’s an older one. You won’t find it in a bookstore I’m afraid.” Well that made you feel doubly worse. With shaking hands you slowly picked up the book, wincing at the drops of coffee that dripped onto the table.
But the sinking feeling in your heart froze when you saw the title. The Portrait of Dorian Grey.
“Wait, I have this book!” You looked at him, a sudden idea on how to make it up to him abundantly clear.
He seemed more surprised that you knew the novel’s name instead of having scalding coffee spilled on him.
“You.. do?”
“Yeah, I got it years ago from an antique shop,” an uncertain smile found its way forward despite the way your hands still shook. The book was old, like he said, written hundreds of years ago in some tiny country, but it was one of your favorites.
You looked up at him, uncertainty all across your face, “I can bring my copy tomorrow if you stop by again.”
After a moment he seemed to get his bearings, staring at you with those big grey eyes, “I would appreciate that, miss…?”
That same stupid blush from before reared its ugly head, but you forced yourself from doing anything obvious like twirling your hair. The ghost of a smile fell on his pallid lips when you told him your name and he repeated it back to you like he was actively committing the syllables to memory.
He looked like he had been in a fight with those bandages wrapped around his head paired with the fresh burn on his arm but despite that he looked almost content, the frown from before missing from his features, “Then I suppose I’ll have to return. Though I must admit this is an… interesting way to get customers.”
The tension from the spill had felt all-consuming but his levity was working wonders with lifting the weight off your shoulders, “I mean, I didn’t think I’d find someone with the same taste in books as me by sacrificing one,” You cast a forlorn glance to the wet pile of paper.
He smiled that time at your teasing, a bit brighter than before and tinged with a short laugh. It felt like an accomplishment coming from the stoic man, “Well…” He cuffed the damp sleeve of his shirt, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He called your name once more, and this time you’re positive he noticed the red dusting your cheeks. As he left, probably on his way to some kind of laundromat, you could only follow him with your eyes. Just as he pushed open the door, the bell’s jingle ringing in your ears, you called, “Wait!”
He turned back with his hand still on the handle head titled.
“You never told me your name.” Saying that out loud almost sounded desperate, but the stranger just smiled.
“It’s Chrollo,” he answered, before the cafe door swung closed on its creaky hinges in his wake.
Chrollo, huh?
What an odd, beautifulname.
You tried not to make it seem too obvious that you were waiting for someone, though your coworkers were starting to notice how your craned your neck to see who walked in at the sound of the bell.
“So, who exactly do you keep looking for?” Your coworker, Devan, asked with a curious grin, leaning against the counters while the cafe was slow.
You groaned, knowing there was no way to keep it from him.
“Gossipy bitch, aren’t you?” You snapped, rolling your eyes at him and trying to keep yourself busy by taking care of all the tasks you usually like to put off.
“You know me,” he shrugged, following you where you walked like a lost puppy, “so really, who is it?”
Hesitating a moment, you figured he’d see him soon enough so why not get the teasing over with.
“Remember that guy I spilled coffee on yesterday?” You said quietly, no sooner had the words left you before Devan burst into laughter. The barista’s laughs went hoarse by the time he started talking again.
“How the hell did you manage that?”
Slinging the trash bag of used coffee grounds over your shoulder, you flipped you hair dramatically and spared your coworker an exaggerated, over-confident wink, “Devan? I’ve got no fucking idea.”
Followed by the barista’s infectious laughter, you slung your coffee grounds into the trash, sweeping off any grounds left on your shoulder. Before you were about to head back to the register you paused when you saw your bag hung up by the sink. ‘Guess I might as well tell Devan about the book while I’m at it,’ you figured, retrieving the beloved novel from your bag.
But as you walked back to the storefront a certain voice made your grip on the book grow tighter and a smile spread on your face.
Devan was in the middle of talking to Chrollo, well, more like talking at Chrollo. Your coworker was a gem, but sometimes he was too much of an extrovert to handle. Waving shyly, you approached the counter, seeing how your customer’s shoulders visibly relaxed when you came into view and expectantly tapped Devan on the shoulder. He took one look at the pleading expression on your face and sighed, saying a polite goodbye to Chrollo and whispering a quick “good luck,” in your ear.
You cleared your throat, “Hey, uh, Chrollo,”
“It’s good to see you again. I take it that’s your copy?” He nodded to the book you’ve been clutching protectively in your arms.
“Yup! It’s ah… a bit worn down.” Understatement of the century. The pages were dog-eared and creased, the paper yellow with age, and you’re pretty sure you even jotted down some of your thoughts by the margins; However, the words were still as legible as the day they were printed, and for some reason that was enough to make it mean a lot to you.
Taking a deep breath, you handed him your copy of Wilde’s opus, suddenly very uncomfortable with the idea of seeing it in the hands of someone else.
He hummed, turning the cheap binding over in his palms, “Don’t worry, I promise i’ll take good care of it. as long as nobody spills any coffee on it, that is,”
You groaned, burying your head in your hands for a minute to hide from the embarrassment. You swear, if that kid ever comes in again you’re gonna have to let Devan handle it. Being fired for smacking a child upside the head isn’t exactly on your list of things to do today. Chrollo chuckled at your reaction though, so it must’ve been the one he was hoping for.
“Well, shall we?” You pulled away from you hands, not sure if you understood him right.
“Wait, what?”
He was patient with your confusion, “Would you like to join me? I’d like to know what you think of Basil Hallward, after all.”
It was too exciting of an opportunity to pass up. A kind, handsome stranger who shares your love of the classics? There had to be a catch somewhere down the line. Just as you looked across the counter, Devan was there very obviously listening in.
“Don’t worry, girl, I got your shift,” he sounded pretty happy to cover for you, probably because of how his constant dating advice was leading you nowhere and he was desperate for you to get laid.
Smiling, you responded to Chrollo by loosening the strings of your apron and untying your hair until it could fall free. Stepping around the counter, you both walked back to the seat he had been sitting in the day before.
Hours past, the two of you going back and forth on your different opinions until the sun set, casting the window beside you both in luscious orange hues. The empty coffee cups piling nicely beside you both and there were times were Chrollo would talk for minutes on end, only to stop abruptly when he realized he’d been rambling. All you told him in return was that you liked the sound of his voice.
“Although this has been lovely, I’m afraid I must be going soon,” he murmured, but you didn’t take it personally, you had been here for hours after all.
“That’s alright! Maybe sometime next week we could do this again?” Chrollo didn’t respond, and for some reason the friendly atmosphere that had kept you two safe turned sour.
He paused, his eyes staring into yours, “No, I’ll be leaving the city for about a month or so, perhaps longer.”
“Oh…” You couldn’t back hold the sadness in your tone. You’d just met him, this incredible mystery that you had clicked so well with, and already he had to leave. Rotten luck, you guess. Looking between him and the book, you had an idea.
“Keep it, then,” he followed your stare and looked puzzled at the offer, uncertainly muttering your name.
You straightened up in your chair, taking a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “I’ve had that book for almost a decade now, but I haven’t ever talked about it… with anyone really. This was really nice, Chrollo,” For the first time he didn’t have anything to say, simply watching you with an odd look of fascination.
“Besides,” you tried to cheer yourself up, not wanting to leave a sad impression of you in his mind, “Now you have a reason to come back, right? To return it.”
The smile on his face was the most genuine one you’d seen that night. You didn’t even try to deny the butterflies that flew from your chest when you saw it. It made you proud, almost, to count yourself as someone lucky enough to see it.
“A reason to return, hm?” He whispered so quietly that you barely heard it, and before you could follow him he’d stood up from his seat beside the table, your beloved copy of Dorian Grey tucked safely under his arm.
“Then, I’ll be seeing you in a month or so, my dear,” the endearment took you off guard but in the best possible way, two simple words sparking a whirlwind of emotions behind your eyes.
Slowly, like he was giving you ample time to pull away, he took your hand in his. Something as simple as holding your hand shouldn’t’ve made your breathing hitch, but between you both it felt like much more. Moments fled by like minutes as he brought your hand to his lips, gaze never leaving yours as you felt his breath fan over your knuckles before deftly kissing the back of your hand. He was so careful you barely even felt his lips against your skin before pulling away. It was almost like he was worried you would shatter if he did anything more.
“Until then,” he spoke, looking at you once more before letting your hand fall limp again the table. Just as he reached the door and the jingling bell brought you to your senses, you looked back for one more glimpse of him. It was hard to describe the feeling that rose in your chest when you saw Chrollo do the same; lost in his own thoughts like he was yesterday when you were lucky enough to meet him.
“Until then.”
The sound of that door closing never felt so loud before.
