#chrollo fic

The only thing Chrollo would intentionally reveal is his disappointment—with you and your futile attempt at escape. It wouldn’t be genuine, of course. He’s only doing it because he knows the effects it’ll have on you. Depending on the circumstances—his mood at the time, or whether you’ve tried to escape before—he might use subtle threats to make it crystal fucking clear that there’s no escaping him. He tries his best to avoid violence of any kind with you, it's not something he enjoys or feels is necessary. He’d rather hint at the consequences of your actions—not just for you, but for your friends, your family, and anyone involved in your escape.

Chrollo strikes me as the type who would rather make someone fear what could happen than actually carry out a punishment. He might feel like that method provides the best results? Less disobedience and more compliance, without completely breaking someone? Who knows. 

Anywayssss. Your fear about being punished for trying to escape wouldn’t surprise Chrollo, he already expected that. But you trying to seduce him would be very surprising, he never expected that. He’d hide his surprise and confusion well, barely letting anything show—maybe just a brief change in his body language, but that's all. Considering the kind of man Chrollo is, he probably wouldn’t want you to know that you had actually managed to throw him off guard, and that definitely influenced his reaction. 

I’d imagine that Chrollo’s feelings for you would also play a part in how he’d react to the situation. He is attracted to you, both physically and emotionally, and you trying to seduce him would really test his limits. In his mind, he might be imagining fucking you right then and there, thinking of all the things he could do to you. But he knows better than to act solely on feelings, and prides himself on self-control. During your time together, Chrollo made sure he never crossed any lines with you, understanding the importance of appearing gentlemanly, composed, and caring. He knew that making you feel uncomfortable—more than necessary—would do little good, so he carefully maintained his image. As selfish as it sounds, he did it for himself more than he did it for you. 

Chrollo’s also very smart. It wouldn’t take long for him to realize that you’re probably only trying to seduce him so you can avoid being punished. He’s seen people do all sorts of things under the right amount of pressure, but this might be a first. The fact that you’d try to manipulate him—and in that specific way too—was amusing. But he wouldn’t stop you, no, he’d rather sit back and observe for a bit, probably contemplating how to deal with you. 

If Chrollo does decide to ‘entertain’ your attempts of seduction, it's because he wants to, not because you succeeded in seducing him. Maybe he’d play along because he wants to see just how far you’d go? Maybe he’s been feeling a little pent up lately, and this is the perfect opportunity to satisfy his needs? Either way, Chrollo never does anything without a purpose.

In this case, Chrollo would use the situation as an opportunity to teach you a lesson. Don’t expect much leniency from him. Running away was a betrayal, and that’s not something he’ll forget, or forgive easily. Still, he can’t help but feel slightly impressed with how you handled the situation. He knows you’re scared, but instead of giving into your fear—like he would’ve expected—you made a cunning move, attempting to manipulate him. And it might have worked, too, if you weren’t trying to manipulate him. But that tiny bit of respect you managed to gain doesn’t mean you’re off the hook from being punished.  

If Chrollo does decide to punish you, he wouldn’t be overly cruel with it. Fear can be a great motivator, but he wouldn’t overdo it. He doesn’t want to traumatize you, no, that would only cause more problems for him in the long run. Instead, he’d opt for something subtle and far more effective, something very intimate. Chrollo is no stranger to using unorthodox methods of punishment, and he wouldn’t hesitate in the slightest to employ them if they served his purpose. 

Chrollo would intentionally draw out the situation, allowing you to touch and kiss him, while using that sweet voice of yours to whisper some cock-hardening words into his ear. He’d be patient and play along with your game—calmly responding to your advances with some of his own—making you think that you’re winning, but you’re not, and you never will. 

He gives you just enough rope to hang yourself with. He’ll let you take the lead, at first. He’ll remain almost passive, his dark eyes tracking your every move, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. It’s a test. He’s giving you the rope, watching with detached curiosity to see how you’ll hang yourself with it. 

As you're whispering all that filthy shit in his ear, pressing your body against his, he doesn’t just passively take it. He actively rewards you. He plays along. He doesn’t just passively let you grope him. That would be too obvious. Chrollo is a master of performance. He commits to the role. 

As your hands tremble while unbuttoning his shirt, he’ll cover them with his own, steadying them. He’ll lean into your desperate kisses, meeting your frantic energy. It feels like acceptance, like he's being won over. He’ll let out a soft hum of approval, a low sound in his chest that vibrates against your lips, making you think, it’s actually working. He is doing the bare minimum to give you the maximum amount of false hope.

When you kiss his neck, a low groan rumbles in his chest. When your hand slips down to grope the front of his pants, his own hand comes up to grip your hip, pulling you closer. “Is this what you want?” he’ll murmur, voice like silk. “To be close to me like this?” He’s giving you positive reinforcement, at the bare min, meticulously crafting this illusion that you're actually getting to him. He wants you to feel like you’ve successfully manipulated Chrollo Lucilfer.

The flip. The goddamn switch. This is where it all changes. It happens when you’re at your most vulnerable—when he’s finally inside you, deep and warm. You’d be riding him, thinking you’ve won, that this is your escape from punishment—moaning his name, nails scratching down his chest, convinced your little seduction’s got him wrapped around your finger. 

No big dramatic moment, just a shift in his grip, his fingers suddenly clamping down on your waist to pin you in place, halting your movements mid-thrust. He’ll hold you still, fully impaled on him. You’re balancing on the edge, pussy clenching around him, so fucking close, and he just... stops. His eyes meet yours, that calm detachment back in full force, a smirk curling his lips as he says, casual as anything, “you didn’t really think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

“Did you really think this would work?” He’ll ask, his hips giving a single, slow, thrust that’s devoid of any genuine feeling. He’ll start to move again, but the rhythm is all wrong. It’s too fast, too shallow, or too brutally deep, designed for his pleasure and your discomfort. He’ll watch your face, your desperate expression, and his lips will curl into a mild smirk. “You ran from me,” he’ll whisper, each word punctuated by a rough shove of his hips, rolling into you.“You betrayed my trust.” Thrust. “And you thought you could fuck your way out of the consequences?” Thrust. “How naive.” 

This is where the real cruelty comes in. He’s going to use your own body against you. He’ll fuck you—with his fingers, his mouth, his cock—and he will be an expert at it. He knows exactly how to drive you up, how to make your breath catch and your toes curl. He’ll pull out just enough to use his thumb to grind mercilessly against your clit while he fucks you. He’ll drive you to the absolute brink, your whole body convulsing, begging to come. You’ll be sobbing, pleading. And just as the wave is about to crash over you, he’ll stop everything. Completely. He’ll pull his thumb away, still his hips, and just hold you there, impaled and trembling, while the orgasm withers and dies inside you.

“Patience,” he’ll murmur, leaning down to kiss you sweetly, a horrifying contrast to the torment he’s forcing you to endure. He’ll do this over and over again. Bringing you to the brink, then snatching it away, until you’re sobbing, a desperate, incoherent mess, begging him to just let you come. He’ll let you recover for a moment before whispering, “let’s try that again,” and start the entire agonizing process over. Leaving you in a constant state of wired, overstimulated agony.

He overstimulates the fuck out of you after the edging, not letting up even when you finally cum, slamming into your oversensitive cunt until you’re writhing, tears streaming, body betraying you with orgasms that border on painful. 

You were a living, breathing prize, something far too precious in this ordinary world—the same world that had claimed you as something Chrollo could not keep.

He must have it nonetheless.

High above, fractured stained glass strained the silver moonlight, casting long shadows across the altar. Chrollo had shed his heavy coat, now clad in a loose black shirt. Damp stone and decay saturated his lungs and the insides of the abandoned church.

Your features caught the flickering glow of the tapers. Time was an abstract concept, fleeting, and so he approached without urgency. Chrollo loomed over you, his gray eyes holding the stillness of a winter sea—a placid surface with a mind heavy and moving with restless malice beneath. It was not the time to contemplate, to define his entire existence. And by having you near, the roaring fury thick in his chest fell momentarily silent.

Kneeling before you, Chrollo held the serenity of a man preparing a sacrifice. Here, no titles were required, and yet his touch remained unyielding but so utterly gentle—aching with reverence, as if your skin was made of rare parchment paper, handling a piece that belonged to him and him alone.

Cool, svelte fingers began their slow venture. The curve of your waist, every dip of your collarbone, the fragile thrum of your pulse beneath his fingertips were like pages he knew he must eventually close. Chrollo had never been a believer of the gods of the churches, only ever appreciated the architecture, the silence, the beauty and the tragedy awaiting its final act. But as his hands traced the warmth of your skin, he felt a strange envy for those who had the luxury to believe in eternal life.

“I wonder,” Chrollo murmured. Calm. Untroubled, “Is this what the texts meant when they wrote of grace?”

Leaning in, he closed the distance until the soft exhale of his breath fanned your skin. Chrollo pressed slow wet kisses to the arch of your foot, his gaze refusing to leave yours, watching your breath hitch. His own visage momentarily softened—pleasure, perhaps.

Or sorrow.

Your knees were smooth and pliant beneath his palm as he moved upward, parting them to take what was his. Chrollo pressed his lips to your inner thigh, leaving frisson in their wake, lingering there as if to embed himself into the present moment. Yet the mind couldn’t help but drift to the inevitable end—the certainty of dawn, the reclaiming of violence, and this sacred space dissolving back into cold stone. The impermanence of it all was what Chrollo loathed, and yet it was the very thing that made you so intoxicating.

In the tremors of your body, your sweetened moans of his name, the brilliance of your bare skin, Chrollo saw an oasis—a temporary reprieve from what awaited him on the Black Whale.

He traced the line of your ribs, counting each with his fingertips, before pressing over the plush curves of your chest that had been thumping like a ticking clock. Mourning the inescapable decay, the transience of all things, Chrollo closed his eyes and let the feeling wrap itself around him, letting himself feel your body shuddering, the relentless beat of a heart that wanted nothing more but life.

Exquisite, he breathed against your skin, a confession, an appraisal for something he knew he’d soon leave behind.

Chrollo indulged himself a little more as he had your face cupped like a chalice, tilting your head back to take your lips. Slow and heavy, he drank you in, letting the warmth of your mouth bleed into him as he tasted a semblance of a miracle, a promise of absolution.

Through his heavy eyelids, he gazed at the residual heat that had misted your countenance before burying his face in the curve of your neck. Chrollo inhaled deeply, took notes of your scent one last time as he filed it away in the pages of his mind—a solitary comfort, amidst the crowded decks, for the cold nights yet to come.

Chrollo watched as the two of you left. His heartfelt apologies were deflected by Fei’s icy demeanour. “Darling?”, his voice hoarse, “I’m sorry-“. “Shut it”, Feitan carried you in his arms, “One more word and I swear-“. A glimpse of anger shot through Chrollo’s heart, but he knew it was misplaced. “I respected you”, Feitan softly added before he left with you in his arms. “Her stuff-“, Chrollo’s words died out as he caught a hint of Feitan’s anger. “She said she doesn’t want anything that reminds her of you”, he held you close to his chest. “Where are you going?”. “As far away from you as possible”. “I’ll look for her”. “And you won’t find her”, Feitan gritted his teeth; trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’ll kill them”, Chrollo’s eyes went dark.

He didn’t want to be like this; to make you hate him even more but what choice did he have? He didn’t want you to leave. Was he selfish? Yes. But on top of that, more than everything, he felt worried. He couldn’t leave you in Feitan’s hands. What if he couldn’t protect you? What if something happened to you? No. You were safe here.

“Who?”, Feitan froze as his grip around your frail body tightened. “Her family”.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen them in ages; that they treated you badly. None of it mattered. You weren’t going to face that mountain of guilt.

“You’re bluffing”, Feitan gritted his teeth. “Am I?”. “Fei?”, your eyes darted upwards.

You both knew that you weren’t going to leave. It didn’t matter how badly Feitan wanted to get you out of there; how badly he wanted to see you happy.

“You sure?”, Feitan looked down at your lifeless eyes. “Yeah”. Feitan’s shoulders slumped unwillingly as he now turned back to Chrollo. “Don’t think I’ll leave her alone. Not even for one second”. Chrollo held his hands next to his head before heading upstairs. “I don’t care what you do as long as she stays here”.

The two men didn’t even care to ask for your opinion. At least not out loud. They knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling, but it didn’t matter. They understood that you weren’t going to take any chances. Not when it came down to the safety of your relatives.

—-

“Not again”, your digits glided over the rough curtains. “What?”, Feitan lazily lifted his head from his pillow. “Chrollo… He’s arriving with even more flowers than yesterday”. “Hm”, Feitan hummed. “Wait”, you squeezed your eyes, “He can’t be serious”. “What?”. Now Feitan’s interest was also piqued. “T-there are people with him-“. “Who?”, he practically jumped out of bed. “T-they’re all carrying flowers”. Feitan narrowed his eyes as he tried to read the situation. “What the hell is he doing?”. There was this unexpected sharpness in his voice. Your brows unwillingly drooped along your eyes. It has been three weeks now, and everyday Chrollo had this entire charade of flowers ready in the morning. It started with the door to your room, then it expanded through the entire hallway…. Yesterday, he even had the entire staircase laced with lilies and roses. “What? You’re not going to forgive him, right?”, Feitan narrowed his eyes. “No, of course not”. However, the slight hesitation in your voice didn’t go unnoticed. “If you just agreed to let me take care of things, we’d be out of here already”. “You can’t keep my entire family safe-“. “Who cares about them? They didn’t treat you right”. “That doesn’t mean they have to die because of me”. “Tsk, you know they never even cared to look for you, right?”. “I’m not going to let them die, Fei”, you tore your eyes away from the window. His crescent-shaped eyes seemed cold and unbothered as usual. “You want to stay here, don’t you?”.

His question felt as if someone punched you in the gut. You didn’t want to stay here. Why would you? No. You’d never forgive Chrollo for being so cruel to you. Never.

You looked at Feitan with disappointment in your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that”, his voice softened as he pulled you close, “Come here”.

—-

“Y/N?”, Chrollo’s voice softly called out from the other side of your door. Feitan lazily looked at you; not even caring to put down the book he was reading.

Feitan hadn’t left your side. Not once. He noticed all the efforts and unheard apologies Chrollo had thrown at you, and by now, he knew perfectly well you were going to ignore him.

“Yes?”, your voice fragile as porcelaine. “What?!”, Feitan’s eyes widened as you walked to the door. Your steps featherlight.

Silence.

“I’ve got you something”. Chrollo tried his best to speak up. He hadn’t heard your voice in so long. To him, it felt as if an angel was talking. “Flowers?”. There was no hostility in your voice whatsoever. Feitan wanted to bang your head to a wall. How could you be this stupid? Nonetheless, he didn’t intervene. “Something else”, his words died out. “J-just leave it in front of the door”. “I can’t”, his voice had never been so gently. Your hands hovered over the doorknob. Your mind twisted. “Don’t”, Feitan suddenly towered over you; his grip on your wrist tight. “I-i want to know-“. “Don’t”, his tone stern. Your brows pulled together as you broke free from his grip. “Tsk”, Feitan’s eyes went round in anger, “Little brat-“. You ignored his anger as you slowly opened the door. Chrollo’s eyes, on the contrary, went round in awe. It had been weeks since he saw you up close. You were no longer a ghost to him that appeared every so often in the corner of his eyes. No. You were standing in front of him; as beautiful and graceful as ever. His hand wanted to draw to his chest as his heart skipped a beat. “I-is-“. “O-oh yes”, he carefully handed a kitten to you. It was as white as snow with big, blue eyes. “It reminded me of you”.

You studied the tiny creature as you carefully pulled it close to your chest. It was wearing a pink collar with a beautiful, golden heart in the middle.

“Please, treat it right”, his voice horse as his eyes studied your expression. “I’ve already bought everything it needs. Fei can get it on the table in the kitchen. Y-you can choose where you put everything. Its food is underneath the sink-“. “Thanks”, Feitan coldly intervened as he pulled you back by your nightgown and smashed the door shut.

“What the hell, Fei?!”, you looked up at him. “Give that to me”, his hands reached for the kitten. “N-no!”, you turned away as you held it close. “I wasn’t asking”, Feitan angrily grabbed your shoulder. “I want to keep it!”, you raised your voice. He tried his best to bite his tongue. After all, as long as you were happy… “Fine”, he shortly answered, “Whatever you want”.

—-

“Tsk”. “What?”, your smile just as wide. “You’re going to forgive him”. “W-what, no!”. “I can see it”, his eyes glided to the kitten. It had been a couple of days since Chrollo gave it to you. Since then, the conversations between you and Chrollo grew longer by the day. “If he hurts you again-“. “You won’t be here, yeah yeah”, you sighed as you finished his sentence. “I’m not going to forgive him, okay?”. Feitan watched as you picked up the kitten and held its nose to yours. It was an endearing sight, but the fact that Chrollo was winning you over wasn’t.

“Y/N?’, his voice rang through the door again. “Yes?”, you practically ran to the door earning a cold ‘tsk’ from Feitan. “Would you like to join me for dinner today? And Feitan too, of course”. Feitan knew he was only an afterthought; a pawn for you to agree. “No”, he immediately intervened. “W-wait”, your heart softened as you noticed Chrollo’s tired eyes. What if he really changed? What if he wasn’t as cruel anymore?

“I said no”. Feitan’s tone didn’t change. Your heart was torn. You knew Feitan was right. You shouldn’t join him for dinner after what he did to you, but you cared about him. Even after everything. It’s not like this was the first time he had acted cruel. Besides, Feitan hurt you in the past too. Both of them had treated you equally bad. Sure, they’d changed a lot but still…

“We’ll join you”, you looked at the white ball of fur in your arms. “What the-“, Feitan’s eyes grew wide. “No, we’re not”, he now walked towards you. “Fine”, your defiance grew by the second, “I’ll join you then”. “Are you sure?”, a small fire of victory grew inside Chrollo’s chest. Feitan noticed the smug look Chrollo tried so hard to hide. “I won’t let her”, his eyes locked on his former friend. “She’s a grown woman, you know?”. That smile. You recognised that smile. Chrollo was enjoying this. “You want to join him?”.

It was a simple question but you knew what Feitan was really asking. The confusion and disappointment in his eyes was obvious. He wasn’t asking if you want to join him. He wanted to understand you; to understand how you could hurt him after everything.

“Yes”, you softly answered; avoiding his gaze at all costs. “Fine”, his shoulder lightly brushed against yours, “Enjoy”.

You didn’t dare to ask where he was going or if he was coming back. Besides, for some reason your heart had grown too stubborn, even though your mind was fully aware you were being unreasonable.

Chrollo patiently waited until he heard the front door being slammed shut. It was only then that he cleared his throat. “I’ll be waiting for you. It’s fine if you change your mind”. “N-no, I’ll come”, you hastily replied. The corners of his mouth curled upwards. He had you right where he wanted you. After all, Chrollo knew you like the back of his hand. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation left in your heart. You missed him, despite everything he’d put you through.

The atmosphere felt tense. Chrollo was sitting in front of you; slowing cutting his steak.

“What’s wrong? Did I overcook it?”. “Wait”, your eyes went round, “You cooked this? Are you serious? You never cook”. “I wanted to surprise you”, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

It was true. He loved you now more than he’d ever done, but that didn’t mean his character had changed.

“Have you named it?”, he broke through the silence. “W-what?”, your eyes still wide in awe. “The kitten”. You watched as his digit stroked over the edge of his wineglass. He was up to something. You’d grown too smart for his tricks but… “K-kitty, just Kitty”. “Hm”, his eyes darted you yours. “What?”, you frowned. “Nothing it’s just… It’s a boring name”.

Your mind darted back to Fei. You initially wanted to name the kitten Stella, but Feitan didn’t like it. He didn’t like the name one bit.

“I wanted to name it Stella but Fei didn’t like it”, your eyes fixed on your food you had yet to touch. “Stella? I like that name”, Chrollo kindly smiled, “Besides, I gave it to you, didn’t I? You can name it whatever you want”. “I-i know, you pulled back, “But Fei is important to me. I value his opinion”. “Right”. Chrollo tried his best to hide the defiance in his eyes; to mask it as best as he could. “Then why did you agree to have dinner with me? He didn’t seem to like-“. “I shouldn’t have agreed”, you interrupted coldly, “I should’ve left with him that day”. “But you didn’t”, Chrollo smirked, “You know why?”. “Because I’m an idiot”, you replied with venom. “Because you know you’d miss me, this house, your room… You’ve grown to like it here”. “I had to! You didn’t gave me a choice!”. “Have I said anything over the past couple of months? You left this house whenever you desired to, with whomever you liked. You could’ve gone back to your family. You could’ve even decided to run, but no. You decided to fuck Phinks because the two of us weren’t enough. Out of all the things you could’ve done, you decided to break my… our trust”. “Y-you-“. “Darling”, he gently waved his finger in the air, “Don’t you try to deny it. You’ve hurt my feelings. Fei could only get over it because he was so angry with me”. “T-that’s not… I didn’t agree to this dinner to get scolded at”, you shoved your chair back.

“Scolding you?”, Chrollo tilted his head. He knew his manipulation was starting to pay off. Yes, he did love you now but he was still Chrollo, head of the Spiders and a born manipulator.

“Y-you’re blaming me-“. “Yes, I’m blaming you”, his eyes followed your every move. “Because haven’t we given you everything you could ever dream off? Clothes? Jewellery? Bags? You even had the love of two men, but it still wasn’t enough for our little minx. No, she had to fuck another member of the Spiders. Tell me, darling. Should we organise a meeting where you can spread your legs to every other male member of the troop? Will you be satisfied then?”.

His words were harsh. Just as he intended to. He’d been so kind to you over the past few weeks; so patient. He knew you wouldn’t dare to disagree with him.

As expected, you stayed quiet. Not even daring to look up from the ground. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m not mad at you but…”, he gently pushed his chair back. You could hear his footsteps draw nearer until his soft hands gently brushed over your shoulders from behind. “I expect you to be kind to me tonight”. “Yes”, you almost whispered. You knew what he was implying; what he asked of you. “Good”, he gently took in the scent of your hair and his heart was ready to burst. He missed you. More than he could take.

You noticed the unexpected kindness in his voice. The sudden shift in his aura.

“Let’s watch a movie together, cuddle on the couch… I’ll even give you a foot massage just… Just sleep with me tonight. I hate to fall asleep without you. Without your soft touch, your sweet scent, your cute sleepy noises… I miss you, darling. Please don’t leave me alone again”, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulling you close. “H-huh-“. “I was mad at you but I get it now. I really do”, his voice soft. “W-what do you mean?”, you slowly turned around. “You didn’t have the love of two men. You only had Feitan’s love. I didn’t love you, not really but I do now. I promise you. I love you. I love you more than my Spiders”.

You stared at him. Scanning the soft features of his face for any hidden lies; any hidden agenda that might be to your disadvantage.

“Please, Y/N. I’ll change. I’ll be whatever you want me to be”.

Chrollo had planned to take advantage of you again. That’s why he wanted to manipulate you into feeling bad; to do whatever he wanted but this feeling of love. This idiotic and overwhelming feeling to give you what you wanted; to make you happy… It stood in the way of everything. It made him soft.

“Come here”, you gently cupped his cheeks, “You’re everything you need to be. You always were but you can be so incredibly cruel. I-I’m scared of you, Chrollo. You realise that, right?”. “N-no, don’t be scared, I won’t ever do something like that-“. “You promised so many things-“. “A-and I gave you everything I promised!”, his eyes full of desperation. “And you broke it every single time”, you lowered your eyes as you took a step back. “Please, Y/N. Let’s just forget about this. J-just hold me like you used to-“. “I can’t”, your voice cracked, “I don’t trust you anymore”. “Y-you can trust me”, he took a step forward. “Y-you have to gain my trust back again”, you took a step back in response. Chrollo’s heart dropped to his stomach but he couldn’t argue back. This sickening feeling of love made him understand you more than he ever did.

“Fine”, he forced a smile, “I’ll make you trust me again”. “I-I”m going to call, Fei. I want to know where he is”. “Right”, Chrollo nodded as he turned away, “I’ll be in my study if you need anything. And don’t worry. Fei never left the house”.

“W-what?”, your heart raced. “You can be so foolish sometimes”, Chrollo chuckled, “You really think he’d leave you alone with me? He only pretended to leave even though he knew I’d easily see through his little game. He just wanted to know if you were going to forgive me”.

“And have you?”, Feitan suddenly appeared behind you. His aura a lot less patient than Chrollo’s.

Well, in the physical sense, at least. Since your first morning waking up in his presence, you’ve been verbally assured of Chrollo’s lack of desire to hurt you. You can’t say that he’s completely lied about that.

Chrollo has never hit you. He’s never pushed you, never slapped you, never grabbed you by the wrist, even when you tried to run away from him.

You’ve only ever attempted that once, many months ago. You’d seen your opportunity and taken it, smart enough to know that the bustling crowds in the heart of York New City are useful tools of both obstruction and disguise.

You weren’t smart enough, however, to understand who you were dealing with.

You’d ditched your iced tea at him - a move that surprised both of you, considering your nature - knocking over the outdoor café chair as you sprinted away into the busy streets. Your limbs moved on impulse, motions imprecise as you expected him to appear in front of you, ruining your chances of freedom before you even had a chance to get your hopes up.

Instead, Chrollo chose to calmly follow you through the city streets with his hands in his pockets. You’d taken a gambling glance over your shoulder once you’d thought you’d created enough distance between predator and prey.

To your horror, he was only about twenty metres away, his fur-lined coat unmissable. His nonchalant attitude was unnerving, to say the least. He was just being an ass, right? That was the reason for his unfazed demeanour.

Narrowly missing an opportunity to stumble over your own feet, you continued your escape.

You took another glance.

Phew. He wasn’t catching up, still the same distance.

You put even more power into your legs, running faster than you’d ever run before. Another glance. Still the same distance. So he’s not catching up, what a relief.

Wait. He wasn’t falling behind, either.

No matter how fast or slow you ran, he was always behind you.

Unlike Chrollo, your endurance had a limit, eventually slowing yourself to a stop by an ice-cream parlour, panting and sweating and wheezing. You neither had the energy nor the gall to fight back as his arms snaked around you, sealing your fate.

He didn’t hurt you. But he hasn’t taken you outside for months, save for your last move into your current residence, a suburban house on the outskirts of Yorbia.

Perhaps he should’ve revelled in your touch more when he collected you. Since then, your anxieties have evidently only increased, shying away from all his touches, no matter how gentle, no matter how necessary. You won’t let him hold your hands, nails bumpy and bitten, or put an arm around your waist, shoving it away as he attempts to squeeze the soft flesh there.

His kisses don’t hurt you. His lips are delicate and his movements are gentle, a stark contrast to the man you know he truly is. Every time he tries, however, you move back on impulse. You can’t help it.

You’re nervous. It’s something he has to consider. If you were outspoken and sassy, he could just gag you. Forcing someone else to speak is leagues more difficult than simply cutting out their tongue. Frustration burns inside of him - you’re obedient in every sense, except for this single obstacle. He wants to touch you without having you back away, frightened out of your mind.

It’s unfortunate it has to come to this, it really is. But alas, you’ve both learnt that you can’t get what you want all the time. 

He stands up, taking precise steps towards you. There’s terror in your eyes as he towers over you, shrivelling yourself up on the sofa. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you, but you know it’ll be horrid. Maybe he’ll kill a family member in front of you for your rejection, or threaten you with his Ben’s Knife, or maybe he’ll even slap you.

Chrollo does not do any of those things.

Instead, he crouches in front of you, caressing your cheek with his hand. Your eyes squeeze shut, trying to relax into his gesture, but your heart beats out of control.

He leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, unreciprocated, before pulling away. It’s not enough. It never was.

You squeak as he throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your shared bedroom, placing you down on the bed eagerly. He’s never been this rough with you, but there’s a first time for everything.

He peppers more kisses over your face, whilst you lie there, frozen in horror. As his kisses trail downwards, along your jaw, you manage to muster a few words out.

“Chrollo, please, st-”

“Just relax,” he coos, voice threatening to waver with anticipation.

You’re whimpering like a beaten dog, pathetic little thing you are.

Your eyes squeeze shut again, tears rolling. “I-I don’t…I can’t…”

“Yes you can, darling,” he coos as he plants delicate kisses up the length of your neck, the soft sensation of his lips adding to the conflict in your chest and mind.

Your words get clogged behind the lump of horror and fear that forms in your throat. Furiously shaking your head, a frantic last resort, you feel your jaw get caught in the web of his splayed fingers. Your eyes open as you feel his warm breath envelop your ear.