Feitan Porter X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Hunter x Hunter_Phantom Troupe_Masterlist

Rules and other masterlists

Chrollo Lucilfer

romantic

"Goodbye, holiday season" (male)

"Unmoving" (gn)

platonic

none

.

Feitan Portor

romantic

"Goodbye, holiday season" (male)

“Response“ (gn)

platonic

none

.

Hisoka Morrow

romantic

none

platonic

none

.

Phinks Magcup

romantic

none

platonic

none

.

Shalnark

romantic

none

platonic

none

.

Uvogin

romantic

none

platonic

none

Hunter x Hunter_Phantom Troupe_Masterlist

Just a little something in hopes of getting back my writing spirit

Chrollo Lucilfer x male! reader

Feitan Portor x male! reader

Goodbye, holiday season°

Chrollo Lucilfer

Kiss after kiss was being placed on each other’s lips. Chrollo's curled up to form a sweet smile, basking in the domestic feeling of his lover pressed up against him on the couch, legs intertwined under the colourful, fluffy blanked. A gift Chrollo stole for (Y/N) as a Christmas present. The only light illuminating the otherwise dark livingroom were some white candles and the TV across from the couple. It was playing a Netflix series (Y/N) wanted to show Chrollo for a while now, and finally they had gotten around to do so, having hustled through the holiday season one way or another. Alas, their attention soon drifted away, leaving the show running in the background as they indulged in each other instead.

Feitan Portor

Feitan watched the cardboard boxes filling back up with winter and Christmas decorations, sipping his coffee. (Y/N) rolled his eyes halfheartedly at his lover, "You seem glad to see all of this go back to the attic. Could’ve at least helped me.", he closed and stacked the boxes, sending the other a pout. Feitan scoffed, "You no child. You put it there, you get rid of it.", despite his words, he set down the mug and picked up one stack, making (Y/N) smile, "Thanks, bubs." "I will drop them." "Sorry, sorryyyy.", he chuckled, picking up the rest of the boxes and proceeding to the attic.

Don‘t lie.

You‘ve written this in bold font in your mental guidebook. It was filled with rules and routines you learned were essential when living with Feitan and you hoped you would still remember the next day. With how much you started to dissociate and started to forget more and more little things, it truly was a concern for you.

‘‘Don‘t lie‘‘. You were sure that was one of the very first rules you noted. From the very day he took you. He made sure to make it very clear that lying would do nothing to save you, instead landing you a VIP seat in the basement. You‘ve seen it before, way too often actually. That gory, gory basement. It was the highlight of your nightly nightmares, as you always feard you‘d end up down there for reasons other than doing the laundry.

Now that you thought about it, you wondered why you still thought a lie to be a good choice. You knew he can tell when you are not truthful. That should naturally lead to you always to tell the truth, right? If only. You remembered the last time you told him your true thoughts right to his face. At the end of it, you had the corners of your mouth stitched up into a wide, painfully wide, smile. “No, I am NOT happy. How can anything you‘ve done to me make me feel any type of joy?!“ He seemed to see that as a challenge. You remembered having the black threat tightly secured in your flesh for weeks, until you finally figured out how to make him take them out. Simply smile at him. (More like crinkle your eyes a bit to seem a little more genuine.)

You still had bruises where the threat was laying and digging into your skin weeks later.

Lying didn‘t do good. Being truthful didn‘t do good. What else was left?

Yandere themes

Hunter x Hunter_Phantom Troupe_Masterlist

Feitan Portor x gn! reader

Response

"You slept well?"

A question that should be relatively easy to answer. Even if one would consider the quality of their slumber to be hard to put into words, or determine if it was a positive experience or not, that question shouldn’t leave someone with a tight throat. Locking eyes with your captor for a second, you pondered about how you should answer. Answering truthfully, as if it wasn’t the cold-hearted man who kidnapped you that was standing in front of you, and instead someone you’d deem close to you like a friend, actually was pretty easy; No, you slept horribly. Insomnia already had been in your life for a while, but this was getting on a new level.

Your heart was always beating so hard you could feel it all across your body. Every little sound made you flinch. And the blinking, red light of the camera in the upper corner of the room had you frozen, scared to move. Under these circumstances (and more) it was obviously hard to relax, which is why you only ever were able to fall asleep when you were absolutely exhausted and could barely keep your eyes open. (Unless Feitan felt generous enough to drug your drink with sleep medicine) Still, you rarely fell into a deep slumber. And instead your situation plagued you even further in dreamland. What you had hoped could be an escape from the “love“ of your captor revealed itself as something just as horrific, maybe even more so.

On good nights, your nightmares simply replayed some scenarios you felt uncomfortable in, on bad nights, they replayed scenes you prayed to only witness in fiction. And on the worst nights, your fears of what else could happen, no matter how silly the thought was, welcome themselves in as well. You started cursing out that part of your brain that was responsible for the images of your inner eyes for it being just as much of a sadist as the one demanding you to call him your lover.

Lover.

It was clear to you that Feitan‘s attraction to you was more obsession than anything more innocent and pure like “love“. You dared to utter those thoughts to him only once before. The way his eyes wrinkled with joy at your words made you regret your words instantly, you couldn‘t even begin to guess why he was smiling befind the big collar. Was he amused by your guts to dare say such a thing to his face? Was he content with the word you used to describe his feelings towards you? Was he imagining your face twisting in pain as he punished you for your boldness? It never came clear to you, and that‘s why you went back to walking on egg shells around the man, more on your toes than ever. Oh, how you wished you could read him better, or he would reveal more of his wants, you believed it would make your life- no, this wasn‘t a life- your stay much easier. And maybe a good rest, with nothing but an endless void of nothingness in your mind, would find its way to you. A fantasy like this was all the hope you could get, so you took it, wholeheartedly.

Feitan raised a brow at your hesitation. This was a simple ‘yes‘ or ‘no‘ question, answering shouldn’t take so long even if you were an idiot sometimes. He was not oblivious to the war going on inside your head wether you should speak the truth or not. That was exactly the reason why he thought you were an idiot. The hand sliding over your waist had you snapping out of your thoughts and your gaze back to the black-haired laying next to you on the bed. The soft circles of his thumb over your exposed skin was a huge contrast to the cuts and bruises he gifted you before. So much of a clear contrast that you got the feeling he was urging you into choosing one answer over the other. A hint of how you could make the day into a good one for yourself. A hint of what he wanted.

You took it, clutching the shimmer of hope in your hand as you sighed, “Yeah, I slept real good.“, your smile was small, but present. You even made sure to wrinkle your eyes just a tiny bit to make it look real. And you really hoped that would be enough happiness, even if it was faux, to satisfy him and his sick, twisted views. His lips closed into a straight line, face free from his seemingly constant frown, and you cheered for yourself in victory. You allowed him to pull you closer to him. If this is what you had to endure to have one good day, then so be it. You sighed again, this time with a real, relieved smile, snuggling closer to your ‘lover‘ to make him think you really meant it, just so you can relax for once. The hand that didn‘t rest on your waist crawled up into your hair, fingers combing through your locks. Okay, maybe putting your hand on his chest is a good way to respond.

One harsh tug on your hair destroyed all the hope you had, and you couldn‘t help but gasp in shock. With your hair in his tight grip, he angled your head so you‘d be looking at him. There it was, the frown. But! But didn‘t you respond the way he wanted? He was always the one who wanted to pretend what was going on in this house was okay, and saying otherwise was just asking for punishment. So why-

“You lying.“, oh, “I watched you sleep. Could barely relax your face.“, a smile edged on his face, “Now, what do liars deserve?“

Please do make a fic about this it’s very much needed in the world 💕

Imagine you’re a part of the phantom troupe and you announce you’re pregnant and every member just turns and stares at feitan 😭😭

And he’s trying to pretend he had nothing to do with it but EVERYONE knows y’all are secretly together.

Chrollo is just like… feitan fucks??? 👁️👁️

(May make a fic with this concept)

This was really cute I love the budding relationship. She’s a lil dummy and Feitan is Feitan and it’s works so adorably

I also feel like maybe when they were younger they did like an anime style “When I’m older imma marry you” type thing and that’s why he’s so set on being with her and she just doesn’t remember at least that’s the vibes I get from it

I love it, it was short but I love this

Can you see me too?

feitan x reader

Summary:

“Can you see me too?” He leans in slightly, your hands still in his.    You don’t know how to actually answer that. You’re looking right at him so that can’t be what he means. Or that you see him everyday at school. Feitan is asking something deeper, something you were probably wrong about.    “I’m learning too, Feitan.”

tw: mention of violence, drugs, fluff. ooc Feiten? a VERY quick write might be mistakes

“Dismissed.”

You stretch your legs before getting up. It’s happening again, that heavy feeling that creeps up on you. This has been happening a lot and you don’t like it. The chill is running up your back, making you stiff. Quickly, you gather your things and leave. Being one of the first ones out of the class, the sensation of someone’s eyes leaves. 

  Taking a deep breath, you begin to relax for a moment. Lately, someone’s been watching you and you are too afraid to see who it is. At first, you wanted to turn around and spot the gremlin. However, the person who was next to you had fear in his eyes when he looked over your shoulder. After seeing that, you gave up that idea. Especially when you had a feeling of who it or they were. 

   Being a senior, there is a group that grew up with you in elementary before you moved away for some time. Unfortunately, rather than just be normal human beings, the rumors say otherwise. Shady shit that’s illegal and atrocious. Violence and blood paint their fingertips like polish, the red not leaving without prayer for the sin. And possibly, if the rumors are true, the drugs that leave the addicts and the curious in a trance.

  At first, you just addressed them by their names since you all went to school together. But by the time everyone went into high school, they collectively were called the Phantom Troupe, or the Spider. You want to laugh at the name of their little gang since they were big nerds back in the third grade plays. 

Their acting troupe name.

Hearing it for the first time, you didn’t take it seriously until you saw it with your own eyes. Each of them ganged up on a group from another school. The Troupe was vicious and merciless. Only a few witnessed the fight, you being one of them on accident. You barely saw what scared the hell out of everyone. 

  Someone lost their eyes. You could see a few moments of the fight but you missed that gruesome part. And thank God you did. 

After that, you became fearful and no longer saw them as the kids that shared a class with you since kindergarten. 

  Now, the eyes that have been watching you everyday, you are sure it belongs to one of them. Or maybe that one stiff doll-like guy Illumi? Or the Troupe’s newest member that is the biggest flirt and an absolute freak, Hisoka. 

   When people talk to you, they must see who's watching. The reactions are all the same. Even your friend who is quick to grab you and lead you away from the stalker. 

  Did you do something wrong? Are they after you or something? Want to sell you some drugs? That little one with the long hair, Kortopi, always stands in the corners watching everyone whenever he’s not with his gang. You’re sure he’s the main dealer. Just look at him.

   So badly do you want to turn around and stomp into the classroom and demand who the fuck has been staring at you. Alas, it’s not a smart move. At least not right now. After you put your school shoes in your cubby, you feel it again. That cold intensity that causes you to shiver. For the first time, you feel it closer. Like, a few feet away type thing. 

   You shove your regular shoes on and take off out the door, not bothering to wait and say goodbye to your friend. On your way home, you still feel the eyes on you. This is exhausting beyond belief. This is worse than gym class. 

  How long can this person keep this up? Why are they watching you in the first place? Do they just want to talk to you and they’re too shy? If that’s the case, you’d show some leniency since you can be a bit of a shy bug, too. 

   As you turn the corner and see the small, family owned diner to your left, the eyes disappear. You walk faster with a light and peppy step. They could have gone home and abandoned the stalking.

   Suddenly, you’re against a tree with someone’s arms placed firmly against it, trapping you. The sun has decided to shine brightly and highlight his face. It is none other than Feitan Portor. 

   Never have the two of you been so close. Not friendly or physically. His lower face is covered by a cowl for some reason and his eyes are, surprisingly, looking like they’re different colors. They’re dark, but one is slightly deeper. His cheekbones are defined and right on top are slight freckles against his ghostly pale skin. 

   Words are stolen for what feels like minutes. Finally, your fears get the best of you. 

“Oh my God…you want to sell me drugs?” You are on the verge of crying when he has narrowed eyes. “My mom’s gonna be so mad at me. I don’t want drugs!”

  “Fei, is this her?” A tall blond, Phinks, if you remember right, comes around the corner with extremely light steps. The rest of the Troupe appear too. “No, God no. Don’t sell me drugs!”

They all stop and look at you. Each bearing an expression fit for a sitcom scene.

  “She’s not allowed to be high. Look at her, she’s the paranoid type.” The biggest one, Uvo, states. “She’s gonna turn herself in for something she didn’t even do.”

Dear Lord, they already know how high you’d be? What are they planning? You can’t go home like that. 

   Portor says nothing. He doesn’t even bother to ask which drug you’d want. Phinks steps forward. “Look, Fe-”

“Oh God…I don’t have money! Stopping giving me drugs.” Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head slowly, facing the ground.  

“We didn’t…give you anything? No one wants to give you drugs. Trust me.” You hear someone promise.

“Why you here?” He asks with his whispery voice. 

“Because I was going home and you-” He shuts you up with one look. 

They talk among themselves while Feitan Portor doesn’t move himself away from you. Your mom is going to be pissed if you come with drugs. 

“Is it crack?” You whisper. “For God’s sake-stop that! No one is going to give you anything!” Machi puts her hand on her hips as she yells at you. 

  “Is it, like, a toe? An eyeball? Please no, no-”

Porter’s soft voice cuts through yours. “Stop.”

“Mom’s going to be so mad at me if I have a random toe again.” You try to wiggle out from his trap with no avail. 

   He grabs your head. “Enough,” He turns around to face his friends, covering you. Well, somewhat since he’s on the smaller side. “Go.” 

Immediately you realize that command is for you, and you take off.

---

  The next day is no better. He is still staring at you but at a closer distance. He moved someone from their seat just to sit behind you. And at lunch, he sat at another table facing you. He must want something, especially when he barely shows up for school. And now he does? 

  It’s drugs or blackmail. Murder? 

Before the day was even over, the principal called for an assembly. Begrudgingly, you enter the gym and stay close to the edge rather than the stairs. You look around for your friend but find Portor next to you instead. His thigh touches yours contently. There is not a single thing out of place with him. He looks like this is normal, regular for you two to be this close. Everyone else has a few inches between them yet he wants to be glued to you. 

   You say nothing to object. In the corner sits your friend. She “subtly” points her finger at him and mouths what he’s doing. You can’t make any sudden movements or he’ll notice. 

  “You answer her?” His voice is so soft, almost drowned out from the teenagers that the principal slowly reins in. Lucky for him, his mouth is close to your ear. 

“No need. It’s, um, like, right here. She can see this.”

He furrows his brows and asks, “Is it bad?”

You shift awkwardly, fully realizing that you’re brushing up against him. “N-no, just surprising. I mean, we haven’t talked since elementary.”

  He looks forward and says with confidence, “That change. We talk now.” 

Why? 

The principal goes on about the violence in school and how it will not be tolerated. If this continues, he will sort out that police will patrol the school. You side eye Feitan Portor who still wears his cowl covering his lower face but cannot hide his smile. 

   You’re scared. 

When the assembly is over, you jump up and try to walk down the seats rather than pass Portor to go to the stairs. A teacher yells to stop walking on the benches. You ignore her completely and blend with the crowd. Your heart is pounding. You rub your chest in an attempt to calm it. Suddenly, you feel something pressed against you right as you are seconds away from the door. 

  “God!” You shout as you see that he is right next to you with his hands in his jacket’s pockets. “Let’s go.”

“W-what about your friends? They gotta be looking for you.” He walks towards you, causing you to press against the wall and walk to the door. It’s like he’s herding you out the door. You walk stiffly next to him. The sun is hiding behind the clouds, causing the shadows to emphasize his paleness. 

  Your bag and book is snatched out of your hand. He’s carrying it and continues to walk. “H-hey!”

“Walk.” Why is he carrying your stuff? Is it collateral or something? He’s holding them hostage? Oh God, what if he wants you to do something illegal or sexual in exchange for your stuff?

  Quietly, the two of you walk to that familiar tree. “Where’s your home?”

No, no, he can’t walk you home. He’ll know where you live and that would be awful. Him having that kind of information? That’s deadly. “I-I can go the rest of the way. You probably have to head home too.” 

  You reach for your things. “No. Where is it?”

“I don’t have one.” You lie. The things he could do with your address…Lord have mercy. “Lie. Where is it? I take you home.”

  “I can go-”

“(Y/n).” He remembers your name? You remember his because so much has happened and the whole class were friends. Since you didn’t talk when you moved back this year, you didn’t think he’d remember you. 

  “Portor…”

“I walk you.” Too scared, you just agree and walk to your house with the short guy in tow. Your house comes to view. “Oh, your dad’s?”

  “How did-”

“Pool?” Your eyes dart around until you remember that you hosted a pool party once. There was a slip and slide, a kiddie pool, and sprinklers. Everyone had fun and sandwiches and chips. A few of your classmates didn’t have swimsuits so your dad had them wear old shirts for them so they could play too. Now that you think of it, he was one of those that didn’t have anything. 

  “I can’t believe you remember that.” Everything to do with your dad is mostly tucked away from your mind. Portor bringing up a memory that you vowed to cherish makes you remember how much fun everything was. It was so long ago, though. Times and people change regularly. There is no reason to hold onto a memory that didn’t last long enough, right?

  “I remember that what’s-his-name slid right through the slip and slide and into the fence.” You snap your fingers repeatedly trying to remember his name. Feitan is still friends with him. 

 “Bonolenov. He wore bandages for a while.” 

“Ah, I remember that. It still didn’t slow him down.” The two of you stand there in silence. “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me home.”

  You reach for the bag but he walks out of your reach and heads to the door. His steps are so quiet they don’t even disturb the bugs that tread along the sidewalk to your house. 

  He stops at your door, waiting for you. “I walk you home. Not on the sidewalk.” Even though he’s surrounded with violence and blood, you can’t deny that this is sweet. Suspicious as hell, but sweet nonetheless.

  “Thank you Portor.” You bounce on your feet. “It was nice talking to you.” And for reminding me of that sunny memory.

When you finally finish the day, you don’t feel as scared as you did for some reason. 

--

  “So…what’s going on? Where’s your shadow?” Your friend whispers lowly. There is a nice breeze that refreshes the overheated students. Unfortunately, there is a terrible heat advisory that is really showing its head. You have a loose blue tank top on and blue jeans which you wished you’d traded for something shorter. If this heat is making you wear a tank top and wish for shorts or a skirt, then it is hotter than satan’s breath. 

  Speak of the devil and he’ll appear, cutting right through the crowd of students under the shade, Chrollo and his posse silently intimidate those who hid under the leaves of the school’s trees. You can’t help but roll your eyes. They throw their weight around like a 1950s gang with leather jackets and a comb to fix their over gelled hair. Hell, Chrollo actually looks like the part. 

  Your friend groans next to you and fans herself and you do the same. The principal is expecting too much. You and the rest of the crowd are liable to run back inside if they don’t finish this fire drill. 

  “It isn’t a drill, you know.” She whispers yet again. You turn to her, confused. “What’re you talking about?”

   “Do you wonder why they were the last ones out?”

  “What do you think happened?” She shrugs. “I have no idea. But it’s suspicious. People are whispering about this. I mean, isn’t it weird? This happens right after the assembly that was basically for them?”

  You contribute to her curiosity. “Not to mention the lack of patrols…”

“Oh no, there were some. Where are they now, though? They were here this morning.”

  You want to change the subject. For some reason, you do feel a slight sliver of protectiveness towards them due to the memories. “This fucking heat. I can’t take this…”

  Then, a shadow stands in front of you. “Come.”

“No.” She grabs your wrist, frowning at Portor. She doesn’t trust him at all. Honestly, she has a right not to. All of the rumors that are whispered through the walls surround him like a blanket. And his demeanor doesn't help his case. “Why?” You cut in. 

  “Come with me.” Everyone is staring at the exchange. “This isn’t funny, Portor. Pick on someone else.” 

  You put your other arm around her protectively. “Um, I’ll go. It’s fine.” You try to reassure her in some kind of way. “Then I’m coming too. What’s one more person?”

 His cowl isn’t very good at hiding his expressions. He leads the two of you without a word. Under the tree is so much cooler than you expected. You feel bad for the others. 

   “Don’t worry, there are no drugs.” Phinks says, causing his other friends to laugh at your expense. 

“What’s he talking about?” Your friend leans in and “whispers”.

“They tried to make me take drugs.” You answer. Honestly, you can’t get over that. Not the drug part but how he trapped you against a tree. It was scary and unexpected. 

“No we didn’t!” Machi or Mochi corrects with her hands on her hips. Your friend rolls her eyes at her. Normally, your friend is a little on the timid side. But when it comes to these guys, she shows her dislike as if she doesn’t shake when ordering food. 

   Portor tugs you down to the ground for you to sit. Your legs are at the side of you, curled. The normally timid friend sits in between you and Portor. “I don’t trust him…” 

“You can’t whisper at all.” You tell her. She looks offended and pouts. The only noises are the few murmurs among the schoolmates and the subtle wind in the air. Still, there has been no word from the teachers. Perhaps your friend was right. 

   “Move.” Portor’s voice is soft yet firm. He stares directly at your friend with an indifferent expression. She scoffs and answers with a no. “Absolutely not.”

  “Babe, I don’t think this is a good idea.” You actually whisper. She turns to you wearing a frown. “And these people have good ones?”

  “You have no idea.” Bonolenov says. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not. There is a tense feeling in the atmosphere that reminds you of anxiety. That fight or flight response that just won’t go away as you sit in front of them. 

  “Babe…please do what he says.” You squeeze her hand once. With nonverbal agreement, she moves over for him to sit next to you. “I sit here, okay?”

  “Okay, Portor.” Your friend glares at everyone. She is rightfully suspicious of everyone. There are so many negative things said that taints their image. And their teasing isn’t doing them any favors against the allegations. 

  Your thighs touch his on accident. The wind gives a harsh blow, slightly moving his cowl. You spot a flush on his cheeks.  “Are you hot? Why not take this off?”

  You give light tugs to his jacket. “No.”

“This?” You gently move the fabric from his face. His cheeks are warm and have a youthful roundness to them. “There’s no reason to bake in the sun.”

He removes it then to your surprise, gives it to you. You thank him and don’t mention that his face is red. If you were vain, you’d think it’s because of you. But the sun is out and it’s hot. 

Your friend is bug eyed at the sight with her head cocked slightly.

  “So, this has been weird. We’re going home.” She picks you up by your arm and makes way out of the shade. You are quickly pulled towards your shadow. “Go away.”

  “Portor…”

“And leave her with you? ” She points to him. His face hardens and before anyone can make a move, you rush to intervene. “It’s alright!” You say a little too quickly and grab his hand and leave. She shouts at you as you run away. “Toots! Are you crazy?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You yell back at her. “If you live that long! He even smells insane!”

  “ Bye!”

--

You take him and run, completely sure that you’re safe. Maybe it’s because he was nice to you and remembered the pool party. It could be how quiet he is, not needing to fill the silence. It’s relaxing that way. 

   “Here we are.” You stop in front of your house again. The plain beige paneling and the lackluster decor. The lawn needs to be mowed, you note. 

 Just as you are about to head inside your home, he grabs your hand and leads you away. His hands have calluses on them and are bigger than yours. They are paler than the upper part of his face, too. He puts them in his pockets and occasionally wears gloves, so that could be the culprit. 

   You turn around and look back at your house. Feitan squeezes your hand roughly and yanks you. You frown and debate on tugging it free. Like he read your mind, he pulls you closer. His already thin eyes squint in suspicion. 

  The little shop is small and has large windows with writing on them. The drawings are clearly done by kids. A sun in the upper corner, a tiny snowman with a large nose and a crooked hat, and so many more. 

  The bell dings when the two of you open the door. The old man at the counter perks up at the sound and smiles widely at you. 

 “Well aren’t you cute!” The old man coos. The apples of his cheeks are red and his smile makes his laugh lines more prominent, a testimony of the joy in his life. His brown eyes are small but they have a twinkle in them. He reminds you of Old Saint Nick but without the beard. 

   Portor holds two fingers up. “Crepe.” The old man puts his hand on his chin then leans into Portor’’s ear. The old baker doesn’t notice the glare he’s getting or the danger leaking from him. 

“How about you two share?” He whispers. Portor side eyes the old man. The guy clicks his tongue and finger guns at Portor. All the while, he remains silent. 

 “What flavor?” 

“Um, what would you like?” You don’t know if he likes the same thing as you. He answers with confidence. “Chocolate. You like chocolate.”

  “Well, how about the lover’s special? It’s the right amount of sweet and pretty, just like your lady.” Your cheeks get warm and you instinctively cover them. 

  “My lady would like something to drink.” My lady. Just what is he getting at? You haven’t talked to him since the science fair or a play, maybe? Nah, he’s probably being sarcastic because of what the old man said.

  “One lover’s twist, coming up.” 

You see a table and walk towards it then are interrupted by the older man who decides to direct you to a red booth that has a rounded top. If you were to look at it right, it’d remind you of a heart. “The lighting is better over here, if I may.”

  Portor sits in front of you as quiet as ever. “Why did you want to come here? I’m sure you and your friends have something to do.”

Something illegal, no doubt. 

Portor taps his fingers on the table. His eyes snap to yours when he catches you staring at his long fingers. 

  “You know already.” You frown and think back. You don’t have a clue and he’s looking at you expectantly. Right before you could ask some more questions, the old man brings out the crepe and a shake that has a cherry on top with two straws coming out of the tall glass. You thank him and dig into the shake first. As you are sipping, Portor does the same. In the corner of your eye, you see the old man trying to make it seem like he isn’t paying attention to you. 

  You take a small bite of the crepe. The flavor bursts in your mouth. The sweetness isn’t too sweet but does hit the spot. You take another bite and chew slowly, realizing that Portor hasn’t touched it. Then, you feel the pad of his thumb brush across the corner of your mouth. 

  Your cheeks are on fire. “I’m sorry. I’m a messy eater, that’s why I was going slow.” 

   His face holds no expression. The weird and heavy feeling makes you uncomfortable. “Sorry if I disgusted you.” 

“No. You okay.” Eating in front of people has made you a little insecure over the years. Your dad was a messy eater and you got that from him. “Thank you, Portor.”

He stops eating mid chew when you two hear sniffles. The old man at the counter wipes his eyes. “So cute…so many memories.” He whispers.

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   Afterwards, he walked you home with your hand in his, guiding you back. This entire thing has been so, so weird. Yet it feels…right? Casual or normal. Nothing feels out of place except for the fact that he’s dangerous and scary. It is the shock of randomness that gets you. Walking you home, sitting next to you, and the amount of staring is so jarring it’s a fright on its own. 

   The anxiety is what you’ve been feeling under his intense stare is like being the center of attention under a microscope. It is uncomfortable. However, the heat in your cheeks isn't from embarrassment as he links his fingers through yours. 

   “Thank you for the crepe, Portor.”

“ Feitan. Not Portor.” You smile and hum, missing how his cheeks are pink and eyes twinkle for the first time in years. It’s cute.

  You come across your house once again, already dreading going inside to face your parent’s wrath for being late and not wanting this day to end. “I had fun, Feitan.” 

  He’s still holding your hand like it’s something precious he stole. “Me too.”

You don’t make a move to let go and neither does he. You know you should. You should be running away from him. A drug dealer, fighter, gangster, maybe even a murderer or at least will be one. You should pull away. You shouldn’t have entertained this for so long. 

 Yet you feel content? Happy? Comforted, maybe? There’s a word for it but you don’t know the answer right now. Not when he takes your hand and places a delicate kiss on your knuckle. 

  So, that’s why. He likes you. As in, like-like. You smile wide and try to hide your face. You’d never thought he’d have a crush on you or anyone for that matter. How sweet this is and what a cherished memory it will be. 

  And to think, that old man understood before you did. 

“Boss said you like that. It’s in books.” Boss? He must mean Chrollo. “Yeah, I do. It’s not everyday I’m treated like this.”

  He says nothing for a moment. A moment you cherish so you can regain your thoughts and attempt to stop you from being so flustered. So you can actually see him clearly. His eyes are shiny and his face is slightly flushed. You finally notice that his hair wasn’t in its usual state. Long and slightly unkempt. Instead, it looks smoother and better brushed. 

This is a date. 

Your first date. Is it his, too?

“I can see you everyday. You smile nice.” He says. His voice is still quiet and now even moreso, wanting to hide the compliment. “You have a nice smile too.”

“Feit-”

“Can you see me too?” He leans in slightly, your hands still in his. 

  You don’t know how to actually answer that. You’re looking right at him so that can’t be what he means. Or that you see him everyday at school. Feitan is asking something deeper, something you were probably wrong about. 

  “I’m learning too, Feitan.” You are. In a short amount of time you’ve seen something different. Something that was hiding in plain sight. There are still reservations because of what he does. But that’s it. It isn’t him that holds you back, it is the rumors and the fights. From what you see, this side of Feitan is sweet. This moment is something you’ll keep and hope for more of them. 

  You can see him. 

He kisses your knuckle again. “A start.”

Morning Call ☠ Feitan Portor

Characters: Feitan Portor x fem! reader

Prompt: Somnophilia (Kinktober week 1; day 1)

822 words

Warnings: NSFW 18+, p in v, excessive use of "baby", unprotected sex, Somnophilia (consensual), Cunnilingus (f. receiving), Cock warming, cumming inside, nipple play, morning sex, grammar is all over the place, etc.

Yours truly: This is my first time writing smut, and it's not that great but I truly hope you enjoy it.

Tag list: @regu1ar-huh

Feitan Portor is a very busy man. Most of the times you see him it's late at night. You never know when he'll show up since he's always out dealing with Phantom Troupe business. You would usually stay up waiting and hoping he shows up, but today was a long day for you. Once you got home you took a shower, changed into one of your boyfriends shirts he left behind, a pair of panties, and instantly fell asleep.

A couple hours into the morning you are woken up with a wet and hot feeling in between your legs. Even though your mind is still drowsy with sleep you instantly knew what was happening.

"Fei?" Shuddering, you slowly open your eyes to the view of your boyfriend shoving his tongue into your pussy. He has you on your back and your legs thrown over his shoulder. His pace was slow and lazy.

"Hi baby." He mumbled as he looked up and gave you a small smile before he dove back into you, circling your clit with his tongue with much more energy than before. At the same time, he inserts two fingers into your dripping hole.

"Fei—" Your hands quickly grab his hair as a familiar feeling already starts settling in your stomach. As he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, he sloppily licks and sucks your clit into his mouth. You were basically melting into him. He lets out a small, muffled whimper when you tug on his hair.

"Oh fuck baby keep going I'm gonna—" your thighs start quivering and close around his head as he picks up his pace. Breathless you gasp and tilt you head back loudly moaning his name as you tip over the edge reaching your first orgasm. Helping you through it he leans back on his knees now slowly pumping his fingers in and out.

Getting overstimulated you lazily swatted at his hand whispering "stop...'s too much." Leaning down towards you, he pulls you into a lazy, but deep kiss as you taste yourself on his tongue. Resting your hands on his bare chest you start toying with his nipples. He breaks the kiss to let out a moan and grinds his clothed cock against your clit.

Leaning into your ear he whispers "missed you...sorry I woke you up. Couldn't wait. Needed you so bad." He then hurryingly helps you slip his your shirt off and throws it somewhere. He kisses down your neck to your breasts when he pops a nipple into his mouth as he plays with the other one squeezing and pinching it.

"Mmm me too Feitan...been so lonely without you." You whimper gasping when he bites down. Stopping with his actions he holds your face looking into your eyes noticing the hazy look in them. Feitan couldn't tell if it was sleepiness or lust, maybe both.

"Tired baby?" He asks. Nodding and humming in agreement, you whine and push yourself against his erection ready for him to fuck you back to sleep. Draping your arms across his shoulders you say, "need you to fuck me please."

"Easy. just relax for me baby. I got you." He quickly takes his pants off and switches your positions till you're both laying on your sides with him behind you. He raises your leg and drapes it back on his. Grabbing his dick Feitan gives himself a few pumps before he leads his leaking slightly red tip against your hole. Slowly, he pushes through and you both sigh out. "You're so tight baby fuck" he says through gritted teeth. The stretch is so delicious it has your eyes rolling back when he finally fills you up to the hilt.

"Mmm fuck baby I need you to move please" you moan out and he grants your wishes. At first, he starts off strong but slow almost pulling out completely before pushing back in with one motion. "oh fuck faster fuck me faster baby please!" Screaming you fuck yourself back into him as he moves faster. The sound coming from where you two are connected filled the room with a fwap fwap fwap sound. It was absolutely sinful the way he was fucking you as he hits all the spots that has you seeing stars. "Fei I'm I'm—"

Feitan knows your close with the way you're squeezing his cock like a fucking vice. "I know baby fuck...cum for me cum all over my cock" he hisses out. Your legs start shaking and your toes curl as your climax approaches you so quick and sudden you're seeing white. Feitan is right behind as he stills inside and pumps you full of his cum. Coming down from his high Feitan notices your deep breathes signaling that you're asleep. Chuckling, he kisses your cheek, wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer, closing his eyes, and falling into dream land as he leaves himself inside you.

HxH: Feitan w/ a Strong! S/o Pt.1(?)

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`>When I say strong, the reader, in this case, would be as physically capable and have nen and/or abilities comparable to Feitan. I see a lot of headcanons but not many like this

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`>Getting back into the HXH fandom slowly so while I'm working on some more Food Wars! Content, have these since this gremlin has been plaguing my mind lol. If this gets enough love, ill make a part 2 so tell me what you all think :3

Warning: Murder, Stalking and Strong language

So if you a minor, beware.

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-To start, he might be a tad put off

-It's pretty rare to find someone with such prowess, especially ones that don't have less than-savory intentions

-Id assume you met on a battlefield of some kind or while he was on one of his missions with the troupe

-Just like him, you aren't exactly the upstanding citizen type and are committing crimes of some sort when you encounter

-Whether stealing the same things or killing the same people, you two have similar goals, regardless of the reason

-To be fair, he didn't think much of you when you first appeared

  "How. Troublesome...."

-An annoying obstacle, someone to dispatch quickly

-However, after a rather tedious fight and a good amount of bruises, he realized it might not be that simple

-Your moves were calculated and precise, and your battle iq no doubt honed over years of experience with nen abilities that even he found difficult to handle

-His interest was certainly piqued, as much as it can for Feitan anyway

-You’ll hand it to him; its been a while since you've seen his level of strength

-A true master of his craft, no doubt

-Regardless, that isn't why you were here

-You came to rid of a target and with your mission accomplished, there was no reason to stay, no matter how curious you were about the extent of his ability

-You were swift at your exit, swift enough that Feitan only caught your figure leaving from the corner of his eye

-Admittedly you've sparked more than enough of his interest

-something about your very being itched him in a way he couldn't describe and lingered his thoughts for moments too long

-Like it or not, your existence loomed his mind awkwardly and gave his chest a tighten

-Indescribably annoying

'Must. know. about. Her. Get rid of stupid feeling.”

-now we all know Feitan is no short of deranged and sadistic so it is no telling if he wanted to know for devious reasons or other

-Whatever the case, it led to him talking Shalnark into researching deep (and I mean very deep) into you

-Playing it off as a simple inquiry, he found you, a picture attached to your profile albeit a very blurry one

-All that he could get was your name and Age

"Y/n. Interesting. Name."

Shalnark is confused

-That's how he got here, peeping from your window as you rest

-Even with such little information, finding you was trivially easy

-Your apartment was small, compact he’d say

-Nothing compared to the places he’s layed his head: cold, dark, and filthy on a good day

-He spent the night watching you sleep, noticing every ministration, every time you got up abruptly and checked your surroundings, nearly certain something was amiss

-He didn't expect peeping on you to be so trepidatious

-That didn't stop him from stopping by every time he wasn't busy to check up and watch you

-Days became weeks and months flew by as he kept this cycle going

-It eventually got to the point that he'd follow you to and from your house

-He was searching and, surprisingly, unsure of what for

-He's never felt any particular connection to people outside of the spiders so it was usually easy to write it off as mindless curiosity

-He just wants to know why you interest him so much, and nothing more

-That's how he ended up in your house when you left for your 8 am morning run, which took you approx. 30 minutes to finish as of this week

-He was just checking your clothes because he wished to know where you frequented, perhaps he could lie in waiting as you shopped, snatching your jugular and relenting this pounding in his chest that paces just a few beats quicker

-He only checks the food you eat to see what your diet consists of, perhaps to poison you as your gaze falters from your plate, even if just for a second, permanently killing the heat that rises against his skin at the thought of you

-He doesn't care about you; he just wants to know your weaknesses to exploit, that’s all

-If that were true, then why was he in your room when you weren't? Taking in your scent as if an attached dog 

-Surely he could've killed you thousands of times over in the dead of your sleep; a slit to your throat would've ended this and yet he feels pulled to let you live 

“Just. one. More day.”

 -If it didn't matter, if you didn't matter, why did he effectively remove any potential romantic partner from your life?

-It's just to make you easier to kill; it's just to make you easier to kill, it's just to make you easier to take. No! Kill...not take...

-What was once curiosity became more of a crippling obsession.

-He had to know everything—what you were doing, who you spoke to, and what you ate in the morning

-You captivated him and even if he couldn't understand it, you had him wrapped around your finger without so much as a word 

-Ever since your mission 4 months ago, a certain feeling has lingered your consciousness and kept you on edge with no clue as to the source

-Things went missing, your associates became distant—well, more distant than you kept them—and your kills have become suspiciously easier.

-To the average person, such a prospect would strike fear and cause for trepidation

-Did you think I wasn't aware that he'd been watching me?

-All credit goes to him, spotting him was the hardest part

-He only let his presence be known through peeks of his bloodlust spilling before he vanished in the same motion, which gave away how seasoned he was

It was hard to tell if he wanted me to find him with how obvious his actions became; no, the word would be bold. His actions have gone from stealing articles from the back of my closet to lacing food when he was sure I hadn't seen him 

-Playing dumb was the easy part; actually avoiding his kidnapping attempt(s) was certainly a challenge 

-Before long, you could see the desperation in his nen

“You're getting sloppy, Stalker.”

-I suppose you've worked hard, stalker, I’ll let you win just this once