Feitan Portor X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Morningstar's Road.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader x Yan Feitan.

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

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

Word Count: 4.4k.

*~*~*~*

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

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

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

Feitan brought his own blanket.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Very fitting.

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Cute.”

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

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

“Boss.”

“Hm?”

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

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

“The thing in your hand.”

“‘Thing’?”

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

“The… diary. Please.”

*~*~*~*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May 8th

*~*~*~*

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

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

“Not yet.”

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

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

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

“Fine.”

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

“New one.”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

You’ll surely tell them yourself one day. 

Eventually. In maybe weeks. Months. Years. 

Eventually.

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

Broken fingers aren’t necessarily something people flaunt. 

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

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

Eventually. Nothing lasts forever, after all.

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

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

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

A stare is the response.

It isn’t anger, Chrollo knows that much.

No. 

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

But. But.

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

“Are you sad?” He asks.

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

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

*~*~*~*

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

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

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

Feitan raises an eyebrow at him.

“I was joking, Fei.” He clarifies.

“Ah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m talking to the rooster.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feitan considers giving you the daisies. 

Chrollo considers giving you the marigolds.

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

Francis is probably happy too, not that they care.

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

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

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

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

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

“She ran away.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is the moment.

This is the day.

This is the time.

“Feitan.”

“Hm?”

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

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

“Fine.”

“Thank you, Feitan.”

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

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

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

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

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

*~*~*~*

“You’re beautiful, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

You look up at him.

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

“What’s wrong?” Francis asks.

“Lyra’s still missing… I’m worried.”

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

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

You’re shivering a little.

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

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

“Could you…” 

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Gentle?” You repeat.

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

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

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

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

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

*~*~*~*

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

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

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

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

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

“Bed.”

The car starts moving into the barren street. 

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

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

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

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

“Blankets too.” 

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

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

“Yes. Please.”

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

“Hmph.”

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

*~*~*~*

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feitan turns to look at him.

“Pictures.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmph.”

I love all things Feitan and though Phinks isn’t my favorite I do love the dynamic. You say ur not confident in it but I like it a lot regardless lol, if you made this a story I’d read tf outta it.

Common Interest

Yandere Feitan x Reader x Yandere Phinks

Synopsis: Feitan and Phinks talk about one of their common interests, you.

Warnings: Murder mentions, yandere content, reader is a troupe member, fem reader

idk how many words this is its 12 am and I’m just trying to get this blurb out of my drafts… not very confident in this but I just wanted to post something while I work on other stuff 🥲

Feitan isn't sure what to do with you.

People have piqued his interest before, for any number of reasons. If they were lucky, he got bored after a day or two. If he decided to see what the fuss was about, it usually sealed that person's fate. They'd be dead in a matter of days to weeks and tossed to the woods behind his house for the wolves to feed on. Feitan can't do that with you, he isn't ready to drag you by your ankles to his home and kill you with an assortment of torture techniques, nor does he want to.

After all, the other Spiders probably wouldn't take it too well if Feitan caused one of their members to disappear.

For once, everyone was all together at the base to celebrate a mission well done.

Feitan eyed you, only half pretending to read his book. He wasn't big on reading, but a book on medieval torture practices was sure to have some fun information. You were talking with Shizuku about something, sitting next to her in the hideout sharing a takeout box of food. The moonlight shined through the windows, illuminating you against the others. He sits further away, preferring to be at a distance while he ruminates on his feelings. Feitan's ears strain to pick up on what you two discuss, trying to ignore everyone else.

"Okay, you first, what does yours say?" You ask, stabbing a piece of chicken with your fork and eating it. Shizuku eyed the strip of paper, chewing on the fortune cookie as she did. Once she finished, she read out what was written. "Want to learn Mandarin? Leave us a review? Visit ou-" "Wrong side, Shizuku." She lets out an "oh" before turning the paper over to see what her fortune was. "A light heart carries you through tough times." She recites, blinking a few times. "What about you, what does yours say?"

You look at the rectangle of paper, having only skimmed it briefly before. You hold it up, reading it out loud to her. "Good business opportunities will come to you." You stab another piece of chicken with your fork. The conversation soon shifts focus as the two of you share your meal.

Why were you talking to her? She was going to forget whatever you said as soon as you left. It's one ear and out the other with Shizuku. Feitan wouldn't forget, he never has. Everything you've told to him he's remembered, anytime you addressed him directly or called him by his name. He's kept all of your mementos too: your hair ties, the old press-on nails Pakunoda encouraged you to get, and the cards you hid in your bra during a game of Uno (those were his favorite).

Feitan's fixation for you has gone on for so long he isn't sure how or when it started. Perhaps it was always there, and only now was rising to the surface. He wasn't sure of the reason for it, not that he needed one. Feitan didn't need to justify his attachment to you, especially not since you and him are one in the same; thieves. Oh, but he is hyper-aware of his own growing animosity toward the other Spiders. He's been meaning to put a stop to it, realizing how out of hand it had been getting when he grew resentful towards Kortopi for taking your attention when you should have been focused on him.

The common denominator had been you; so it was only right that Feitan deals with you. The others can't bother him if they can't interact with you, and if they can't interact with you then Feitan could have you all to himself. His thoughts drift to how he would even pull something like that off; if he should even try it.

Just as he was trying to tune back into you and Shizuku’s conversation, Phinks came to sit with him on the concrete he was using as a resting place. Feitan smelled him before he saw him, the distinct scent of his cologne was unmistakable. A warm musky fragrance, and if you really focused on it, it was almost floral.

"What you want?" It came out as an almost hiss, but that was just Feitan's normal tone of voice these days. "You're staring again." He points out. Again. Again? Feitan stares at Phinks, closer to eye level now that he's sitting down on the concrete. Behind the cowl, Feitan's mouth tightens to a thin line, and his gaze returns to you.

Well, if Phinks' picked up on Feitan's proclivity to admire you from afar, surely Chrollo has as well. The idea of that is enough to send an unpleasant shiver through him. Feitan is surprised Phinks would have picked onto something like this, he wonders if his interest in you wasn’t more obvious than he initially thought.

(Honestly, between the two of them- Phinks wasn’t exactly the perceptive one).

"You stare too." Feitan says, in an almost challenging tone. It isn't any of Phinks' business what Feitan does, really. "Could be doing a lot more than just staring." Phinks' says it like he's offering something, and Feitan peels his eyes away once more to look at Phinks. There’s that look on his face, one Feitan is familiar with. The cogs running through his head, deciding to do it, to take what’s right in front of you and to make it yours.

Feitan has noticed it; the fleeting glances and constant need to hear your opinion on things Phinks had. Sometimes, Feitan worries Phinks has become incapable to form his own thoughts on a matter without your input. Phinks was the only person (other than Chrollo, of course), that Feitan could tolerate you speaking to for more than a few minutes.

“She leaving after tonight, gone till next mission.” Feitan says, having picked it up from your earlier conversation with Shizuku. He wonders if she’s even remembered you told her that. “We could just keep her,” Phinks starts, leaning in so nobody else could hear. “My place is nice enough, yeah?” Feitan nods slightly, giving Phinks his approval for the idea. Hardly any words past that have to be said, evidently, they're on the same page.

If it had been anyone else, any other troupe member, to say Feitan would be irritated is an understatement. He'd make quick of killing them for even daring to breach the topic, but Phinks is an exception; he might as well be his brother.

He and Phinks killed people together, robbed the innocent and took joy rides in stolen cars, even shared a bed when they had to. Surely they can split you between themselves. It wouldn’t be hard, even if the two men could get insanely jealous and possessive. They’d be working together, not against each other. Two heads are always better than one; especially when Feitan knows you'd put up a serious fight should they go through with this.

The thought of it amuses him, Feitan, at your imagined struggle, begins to feel some pity for you. As valuable of a member to the Troupe you were, he doubts you’d do well against two spiders. Maybe you won’t even get the chance to get some good hits in, depending on whatever Phinks’ has in mind.

“So? What do you say?” Phinks asks, turning to face Feitan with crossed arms. There's a long pause, Feitan thinking the offer over and all of the ways it could go wrong. All of the ways it could go right.

"Let's do it."

Feitan supremacy~ Feitan supremacy~ I love this man so much, and I like how instead of going down the whole he kidnaps the girl route, don’t get me wrong I like those too, she turns the tables on him it’s fun

I feel like this gif is his attitude around her after they get together cuz he gonna be hella teased after this

I LOVE the way u write for Feitan soooooo much!!! Would u ever consider writing something separate to soft spot for him?? I feel like you could write the sweetest (dirtiest) short stories for him.. or even some headcanons? ♡ I love all of ur writing!! Good job dude ♡♡♡

Thank you for your kind words. I'm really glad you like my fics with Fei 🥺. I hope you like this one as well. I'm planning on writing more fics with him after I'm caught up with all the requests 🤍✨.

I'm currently working on a Draken fic and a second part of the 'let's be friends' fic with Killua. I'm writing very slowly because I'm working until the summer and I don't have a lot of free time. I'm sorry guys :(

WARNINGS: smut

Word count: 1995

“Fuck, that auction was more work than expected”, Phinks rubbed the space between his brows, “Can’t wait to get a drink. What about you, Fei?”. “I don’t drink”, Feitan coldly replied. “Come on, little Fei”, Phinks smirked, “One drink”. “No”. “Hm”, a quiet chuckle left Chrollo’s throat. “Always so uptight”. “See? Even boss thinks so”, Phinks eagerly waved his hand in the air. “Tsk, are they blind here? I want to order something”. 

“Sorry sir”, you humbly bowed your head, “I’m afraid it’s a busy night. What can I get you guys?”. 

Your voice… So soft, so innocent… 

“Whiskey sour”, the blonde replied. “Scotch”, the other replied. “What about you?”, you kindly smiled at the dark-haired figure. 

“Water”. 

“Ignore that. He’ll have the same as me”, the blonde replied. “Water it is”, you playfully smiled before turning around. 

“What a pretty little thing”, Phinks’ eyes glided down your back as you walked towards the bar. “Should we take her?”, Chrollo’s eyes lit up. “I’m sure she’d make a cute toy”. 

Normally,Feitan would happily agree. He’d always liked the sound of cute little whimpers, but not today. He didn’t want you to be scared.

“What do you think, Fei?”. “I don’t think she’s pretty enough”. “What?!”, the blonde raised his voice. “She’s one of the prettiest girls we’ve ever met, right boss?”. “She’s got my attention, to say the least”, Chrollo studied your movements. “We’ll take her after her shift’s over”. 

No. He didn’t want them to take you. 

“Shouldn’t we focus on the mission?”. “What’s wrong, little Fei?”. “He doesn’t want to share”, Chrollo smirked. “Tsk, too bad. I want her”, the blonde turned his head to catch you leaning over the bar. You were obviously trying to grab something but failed to do so. “Imagine standing behind that perfect ass”. “Imagine waking up with your guts hanging out your stomach”, Feitan’s eyes lit up. “No fighting”, Chrollo sternly replied. “Let’s forget about her. Feitan’s right, let’s talk business”. “Nice, little Fei. You ruined the evening for everyone”. 

“Ruined?”, you smiled as you placed down the drinks. It was obvious they didn’t notice you at first. “He sure made mine”. “Huh?”, Feitan tilted his head to look at you. “Such a pretty face”, you placed his water in front of him, “It’s not often someone as handsome walks in this bar”. 

“Thanks”, a short reply. “Auch”, you softly giggled, “Anyway, enjoy your evening boys”. 

“What the hell, Fei?!”, Phinks gritted his teeth as you once again walked away. “She flirted with you, and you replied with ‘thanks’?”. “Tsk, what the hell was I supposed to say?”. “Want to play some pool?”, Chrollo hastily intervened, “The loser gets sent on a mission with Hisoka”.  “I’m going to the hotel. Tired”, Feitan sighed. “You sure? We don’t get many nights off”, a lingering smile on Chrollo’s face. “I’m sure boss. Goodnight”. “Okay Fei, see you tomorrow”. “Goodnight, idiot”, the blonde replied before walking to the pool table. 

His heart ached at the thought that he never see you again. He hated this feeling. 

“Leaving?”. “Huh?”, Feitan slowly turned his head. “Leaving?”, you repeated yourself as you closed your jacket. “Yeah, I’m tired”, Feitan ignored the taxi that was waiting for him. “Me too. Work’s stressing me out lately”, a serious expression on your face. “Hm”, another cold reply. 

“I’m starving. Want to grab some food?”. 

Why were you asking a stranger to ‘grab some food’? It annoyed him how careless you were. 

“Just be honest and tell me what you really want”, Feitan's eyes met yours. They seemed so cold and distant, but there was a slight smirk on his face.  “H-huh? I-I don’t know what you’re talking about”, you hastily turned your head to the ground, cheeks red with shame. “Normally boss gets all the girls”, he looked to the sky, “About time I had some fun”. “H-huh?”, you froze as you felt his hand around your wrist, pulling you towards the car. “W-wait-“. “Don’t back down now. You seemed so eager a minute ago”. 

“Where are you taking me?”, you pulled away, studying the car in front of you. “My room”. “Where? I’m not getting into a car with a stranger without knowing where you’re taking me”. “Waste of time. We both know you’re coming”. 

He watched as you grabbed your phone from your bag. You were so cute with your fake ‘stern’ expression and cherry-red cheeks. 

“What are you doing?”, he clenched his jaw. “I’m sharing my location with a friend”, you frowned, "If you end up murdering me-". “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to”, he interrupted you with a smirk. “Now get in. It’s cold”. 

--- 

“What’s your name?”, you asked as he opened the door to his room. It was a luxurious hotel, something regular people couldn’t afford. “Does it matter?”, he raised a brow. 

He knew you enjoyed this. The thrill, his arrogance… 

“It does”, you watched as he entered his room. “Just get inside”, he walked towards the bed. “Fine, I’m Y/N-“. “Don’t care”. 

“You’re lucky you look so handsome in your suit”, you closed the door behind you. 

“I’m lucky?”.

“W-what?”, you froze as you felt his hot breath against your ear. He was sitting on the bed a second ago… How could he be so fast? “I’d say you’re the lucky one. I’m very picky when I pick a new toy”, his hand traveled to your waist. “Toy?”, you loudly swallowed as you tried to control your breathing. You didn’t want to seem desperate. “You’ll never go back to your old life, to your friends, family… You’re mine now”. “So, you’re saying I can’t leave?”, your heart racing. “You can try”, he chuckled as he tightened his grip around your waist, “I want you to. I want to hunt you down, to hear you beg for mercy, to look at me with red-stained eyes, tears streaming down your face…”. 

“But my friend, she knows where I am”, you clutched onto your purse. “Cute”, he swiftly turned you around, pressing your back against the wooden door. “You have no idea who I am, do you? Who we were? Poor little thing. You’re like a deer caught in the headlights”. “W-wait!”, you tried to push him away as he softly bit the space between your shoulder and neck. “Wait?”, a devilish smirk as he lifted your skirt, swiftly pulling your panties to the side. “Fuck”, he looked down at his fingers. “You’re telling me to wait but you're soaking”, he chuckled as he grazed his tongue along the digits of his fingers, “So sweet”. 

“Well, I guess it’s time to drop this silly little act”, you smirked. “It’s obvious you haven’t noticed”. 

“Noticed?”, Feitan’s eyes studied yours. He didn’t like the sudden change in your energy. “I didn’t mean to let it get this far but…”, you softly bit your bottom lip, “You looked so handsome in that suit”. 

“Who are you?”, a sudden cold feeling against your throat. “Careful with that knife, Fei. No fighting between members, right?”. 

What? To be honest, he never felt more clueless in his life. 

“So cute… Like a deer caught in the headlights”, you chuckled. “Came across Chrollo a couple of weeks ago. To be honest, I almost won when he tried to steal my nen … But he gave me a choice: join the Troupe, or live without it”. “You’re lying. Boss didn’t tell me anything about a new member”. “Because he wanted to see who’d get careless when someone flirted with them. And you lost, Fei”, your words died out, making them sound venomous. 

“Tsk”, he took a step backward, swiftly putting the knife away. “Boss knows I never do this”. “But you did now”, you happily hopped behind him. “Show me your spider”, he froze as he looked over his shoulder. “Here”, you swiftly pulled your shirt over your head. “See?”, you pointed towards your waist. 

Right. This was the moment he started to hate you. 

“What’s that expression?”, you giggled. “You’re almost drooling”. “Get out”, he clenched his jaw. “You’ve made your point”. “I don’t want to leave”, you hastily replied, a frown on your face. “Sure, this was some kind of twisted test but…”, you paused as you fiddled with your fingers. “I really do think you’re handsome and… I mean… My body can’t lie”, a blush on your cheeks. 

How could you switch moods so fast? It was as if he was talking to a different person. Your stance changed, your voice, your expression… No wonder his boss decided to let you join. You could fool anyone, even someone as skilled as himself. 

“You sound desperate”. “Because I am”, you softly replied, “When you said I was going to be your little toy, that I was yours… I liked that”. “Too bad. Don’t like being tricked”. “B-but Chrollo told me to-“. “I don’t care”, Feitan laid down on the bed. “You should’ve stuck with your little performance. If you did, you’d be shaking underneath me by now”.  

“Fine”, you rolled your eyes, “Guess I’ll take my chances with Phinks”. 

No. He didn’t want you to. Even though you weren’t an innocent bystander, even though you were probably as strong as him… He wasn’t going to let that idiot have you first. 

“Don’t put your shirt back on”, he slowly sat up straight, looking as disinterested as ever. “Oh?”, you smirked, “Changed your mind?”. “He can have you when I’m done”, he slowly walked towards you. “Careful, I’m the possessive type”, you placed your thumb in between your teeth. “You don’t know me”, his hands now gently fiddling with the straps of your bra.“So?”, you pouted, “You’re mine now”. “Don’t say stuff like that”, he quickly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “When we’re done, you’re going to leave my room and pretend this never happened”. 

“When we're done, you’re only going to want more”, you grabbed his other hand, guiding it to your skirt. “Come on, Fei. Let’s have some fun”. 

You were right. From the moment he felt your warmth, from the moment you arched your back… He was going to use you over and over again. He could never forget the way you felt, the way your body welcomed him… 

“So good”, you closed your eyes, your legs wrapped around his waist. “Feels so good, Fei”.

Normally he wasn’t like this. He never cared if the girl liked it, if she felt good, but now…

“What do you want me to do, princess? Want me to help you?”. “P-please”, your eyes flew open. “Touch me, please Fei”, an innocent look on your face. “Again”, he softly bit in your cheek, “Ask me”. “Please Fei, make me come”, you let your nails sink into his shoulders, “Please, please, please”. “Cute”, his lips found yours, “Hurry though, won’t last much longer”. 

“S-shit”, you tightened your grip, your legs shaking as his digits found your sweet spot. “I-I’m coming”. “Already?”, he smiled, “It’s fine, you can come. Won’t last long anyway”. 

“F-fuck, you feel so good when you clench around me like that”, Fei’s eyes were wide open. No one ever felt this good. “C-come with me, please”, your brows drew together, eyes locked with his. “W-where do you want me to?”, Fei mirrored your expression. 

He tried so hard not to fill you up already. He wanted to feel you come undone around him. He needed to. 

“D-don’t care”, you arched your back, “J-just keep going, please-“. “F-fuck”, he frowned as he looked down. “I-I’m coming”, you let your head fall back, nails dragging across his back. “M-me too, princess”. 

Was this the best he ever had? Even his legs were shaking. 

“Fuck”, he sighed as he intertwined his hands with yours, his head resting against your chest.  “What do you think?”, you tried to catch your breath. “What?”, his eyes studied your expression. “Was I right?”. “Hm”, he smiled, “Only want more, princess”. 

I love love love Feitan so much

I wanna give him those kids so badly

Make that happy lil life it’s so sweet

I want you to (part 2)

Here's a part 2, hopefully you'll enjoy it just as much. I'm going to work on your requests again. Enjoy reading 🤍✨

PS: I really want to continue Soft Spot, anyone any ideas? 🥰

WARNINGS: smut - angst

Word count: 1979

“I got something for you”, a soft smile on his face. “An envelope?”, I frowned. “Open it”, a spark in his eyes. “No, you didn’t. How did you get tickets to the opening of his art show? W-we weren’t invited”. “Well, now you are”, he chuckled. “How did you-“. “Doesn’t matter”, he gestured for me to come over, “Everything for my princess”. “Thank you”, I hastily sat down on his lap before plastering kisses all over his face. “I can’t believe I get to be one of the first persons to see his work”. 

I sighed as I relived the memory. How could he fake something like that? He seemed so content, so proud of himself for making me happy… Now, he wanted nothing more than to see me cry. It all felt so cruel to me; so unfair.

“I don’t want to today”, my eyes glued to the floor as I sat down on the bed. “I don’t care”, his hand softly wrapped around my throat, “I’m going to make you mine”. “I’m already yours”, I whispered as my hands were tied behind my back. “Because I force you to”, he took a step back. 

I rubbed my wrists together, to loosen the rope around them. I didn’t understand why he tied my wrists together, there was nowhere for me to go; nowhere I could go. 

“Blue suits you well”, his eyes studied the lingerie he chose for me, “Goes well with those bruises I gave you yesterday”. 

A sudden hate started to rise to my throat. I didn’t want him to find me pretty. At least not like this.

“Those aren't bruises”, I narrowed my eyes, “You bit me”. “Only because you were acting like a brat”, he roughly grabbed my jaw. “Let go”, I tried to pull away. “Again? Haven’t you learned your lesson?”, a disgusted look on his face. 

Feitan never hurt me. At least not like he hurt others. Sure, he bit me, he sometimes even scratched my back a little too hard, but he never cut me. He never even tried to break my fingers or my leg. He never did any real damage. 

“What are you going to do? Bite me? Like a dog?”, a defiant look in my eyes. “Watch it”, his eyes grew dark. “Or what? I’m not scared of you”, I sat up straight. 

 H-huh?, my eyes widened as I felt the back of his hand against my cheek. This was the second time he hit me. It was a sudden reminder of his strength. 

“On your hands and knees”, his voice colder than usual as he freed my hands. “N-no”, I loudly swallowed. “I won’t hold back this time”. 

He didn’t need to raise his hand. The way he looked at me was more than enough to make me obey. 

“Good”, he got behind me as his fingers gently traced over my spine. I flinched once I felt his cold fingertips. “Oh? What’s wrong?”, he mocked as his hand wrapped around my hair. Without saying anything else, he pulled my head back as his lips hovered next to my ear. 

“Scared?”. 

“Yes”, I tried to hold back tears. 

It was best to just go along, to give him what he wanted.

“I thought you weren’t scared of me”, he pushed my head into a pillow as his other hand gently pulled my panties down. “N-no”, my knees pulled together like magnets. “Don’t”, he softly pulled them back open with his knee. A chuckle as he looked down, his digits already where my body needed them the most. 

I closed my eyes in shame. I didn’t want him to notice how much my body needed him.  

“I’m going to breed you until you can’t walk anymore”, his tip already pressed against my entrance. “Even when I hit you, when I hurt you, you’re body still wants me to fuck you. Isn’t that funny?”. 

“Please Feitan”, I closed my eyes, not sure what I was pleading for. I didn’t want him to stop, but I didn’t want him to continue either. It was a constant battle. 

“I can’t wait to see your belly”, he grunted as he pushed in, “You’re going to look fucking perfect with my baby inside you”. 

“F-fei-“, I lifted myself as he pushed even deeper. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight”, he chuckled as he picked up the pace, “I want to see you cry, you know that? I want to see that cute nose turn pink, your eyes all swollen… But you’re already used to this, aren’t you? You’re used to being my pretty doll that I get to fuck whenever I want”. 

Used? I didn’t need to get used to it. I enjoyed it every time. Even if I cried, even if I begged him to stop... I never really wanted him to.  

“W-wait”, I tried to protest as he flipped me onto my back. “What if I carve my name in your skin, would you cry then?”, a sudden edge in his tone.

I closed my eyes in response. I didn’t want to see the look in his eye; the joy he felt.

“Tsk”, he clicked his tongue as he got more rough. It seemed that he got agitated for an unknown reason. 

He didn’t want you to know how soft he was for you. He really wanted you to be scared for him, but he didn’t enjoy seeing you like this. He couldn't keep this up. His heart ached at your hurt.

“Don’t worry”, he softly guided my chin so I could look at him, “Won’t do stuff like that. Not to you”. 

An unwilling flutter in my stomach. 

“J-just keep going”, I arched my back. “Don’t worry”, he let his head rest against mine. A sign he wanted to feel my touch. “You’re such a good boy”, my hands gently wrapped around him, “You’re always making me feel so good”. 

He didn’t know what happened inside him; why there was this sudden warmth running through his veins. 

“More”, a whisper I could barely hear. “You’re going to make me come”, I gently grabbed his hand, guiding it to where I needed him the most. “Fuck Feitan”, I smiled as my breaths got heavier, “You’re making me feel so good”. 

He pulled away. His eyes were now glued to my face. There was this unsure look on his face; as if he didn’t understand what was happening. 

“I want you to come with me”, my eyes rolled to the back of my head, “Want you to fill me up. W-want to have your baby”. “Y/N-“, his eyes widened as I pulled him closer each time he pushed into me. He didn’t answer. For the first time, he stayed quiet. ‘F-fei”, I softly sighed as I came undone. He followed shortly, but there was no warning when he came. No sigh, no moan, nothing. 

“Feitan?”, I sat up straight as he got dressed. “I’m going to tape your mouth shut next time”, he sat down next to me again, “You’re getting too confident”. 

My eyes went round in disbelief as I noticed a smile on his face. 

“I want to have twins”, his smile disappeared again, “A boy and a girl and I’m going to give them everything I didn’t have. A loving mother, a warm house, toys, books, … I want to go on holidays together, I want to celebrate Christmas, I-“, he suddenly paused. “I know you don’t want to be mine, but I know you’re going to give our children everything they need”, he looked to the ceiling, “Just as I know you’d protect them with your life if necessary”. 

He was beautiful when he showed his soft side. I could look at him forever when he was like this. 

“I need to go out at night, for work. I’ll see you in the morning”, he placed an awkward kiss on my temple, a gesture he probably never meant before. "And don’t try to leave. I’ll have someone here to watch you”. 

—-

“Get up”, his cold voice rang from behind the door, “Breakfast is ready”. I wanted to rebel, to tell him I wasn’t hungry, but it would be futile. “Y/N?”, he raised his voice from a lack of response. “Just a minute”, I forced myself to answer before putting on the clothes he laid out for me. 

Every day, around 6 AM, he’d come into my room and neatly lay out clothes for me. Yesterday it was a short skirt with a Ralph Lauren sweater, the day before there was a beautiful, pink dress… 

“I want to wear sweatpants”, I sighed while I adjusted my skirt. For some reason, he gave me an extra short, black dress today, paired with some Lousboutins. Needless to say, I didn’t feel very comfortable. “Hm?”, he raised an eyebrow as he took a bite from his toast. “N-nothing”, I hastily forced a smile on my face. “Eat”, his eyes low. 

God, I hated this silence. There was nothing left for me to do other than wait. 

“I need you to do something for me”. “What?”, I softly replied. “Went out last night”, his brows pulled together, “I need you to take care of me”. “Take care of you?”. “I’m hurt”, he slowly stood up, “I need stitches”. “I-I can’t… I’ve never-“. “Bathroom”, he interrupted my nervous pleas. “B-but-“. “Won’t ask you twice”, his cold eyes stared into mine. 

I nervously shuffled behind him, scared to admit that I couldn’t stand the sight of blood. 

“I’d normally ask Machi”, he grunted as he leaned against the sink, “But she’s on a mission”. “Okay”, I wrapped my arms around my waist as he took off his shirt. “See?”, he looked down at the wound. 

My stomach started to turn. Feitan had wrapped a bandage around his waist in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but the once-white fabric had already turned red. 

“Here”, he grabbed a couple of things out of the cabinet. “D-don’t you need something for the pain?”, I slowly walked closer. “It’s fine”, he grunted as he got rid of the bandage. 

Right. I should’ve known better than to look at the wound. 

“What?”, his cold eyes grew more tired by the second. “N-nothing”, I tried to get some feeling in my fingers by shaking my hands. “Hurry, it hurts”, he let his head fall back. I nodded before I cleaned his wound. 

So far, so good.

“Shit”, Feitan grunted at the stinging sensation of the disinfectant. “Sorry”, I softly responded before looking at the needle. “It’s fine, just hurry”, he looked to the side. “S-so”, I cleared my throat as I held out the needle. 

I couldn’t do this. I knew I couldn’t. Why did I even try? 

“Think 8 stitches are enough”, he pulled his brows together as he examined the wound. 

I just nodded as my head started to spin. The wound looked even more awful as blood kept dripping down onto the cold tiles. 

“Y/N?”, Feitan’s voice sounded strange. As if he was yelling from far away. “Y/N?”, he repeated as dark spots took over my sight. “Fuck”, he gritted his teeth before catching me. 

—-

“Hm?”, I grunted as I tried to figure out where I was. “Finally”, Feitan sighed, “You were out for a couple of hours”. “A couple of hours?!”. “You were probably tired. It’s not like you sleep much at night”. “H-how do you know?”. “Doesn’t matter”, he placed a bag on my lap. “What’s this?”, my brows pulled together. “Sweatpants and a sweater”, a discontent look on his face, “You wanted some, right?”. “Y-yeah”, I softly replied. “I got some more clothes. They’re already in your closet. Wear whatever you like”. "Y-your wound-", I didn't care about the clothes. "Already took care of it", he lifted his shirt, "Now get some rest. You're tired".