#kurosilva

This is my first terrible attempt at writing porn, ever, and I’m just posting an incomplete version because I don’t know if I’ll complete it, due to my general lack of writing ability. But since I spent time writing it, I’ll post what I have so far.

(General Background: Chrollo Lucilfer has captured Silva Zoldyck, has him at his complete mercy...somehow...and is about to molest/spank/fuck the shit out of Silva because you know Silva has DAT ASS. I actually wrote more of an introduction, but it’s incomplete which is why I’m not posting it, but that is why the beginning is so abrupt.)

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Chrollo trailed a hand down Silva’s back, and the other male stiffened visibly. Chrollo admired the rippled muscle beneath his fingers. While he and most of the other members of the Phantom Troupe were built well, as befitting of their occupation, this man’s body was exceptional, even in their world. His physique beat out Phinks’, and even rivaled the late Uvogin’s, albeit—Chrollo’s fingertips lingered—the quality of his skin was much better. It was surprising, considering Silva’s occupation as an assassin—then again, unlike the Troupe, when not on their missions, the Zoldyck family lived lives of well-earned luxury.

“So smooth,” Chrollo cooed, as he continued to run his hands over the small of Silva’s back, “You have skin like a baby’s, really. Skin like this is a surprising for an assassin’s. Are you sure that you’ve killed as many people as you claim? Or does your old man do most of the work for you? Or that pretty son of yours?”

(Chrollo pondered if Illumi would be angered by this taunt, had he been around to hear it, but more than likely it seemed as if Illumi might have been pleased at the praise of his skill, even if it was at the expense of his father’s—from what Chrollo had gathered, the eldest Zoldyck son had little real sentiment reserved for most of his family, save his odd affection for the silver-haired younger brother of his. Still, he was glad that Illumi wasn’t around to hear it, as he still desired to preserve his professional relationship with the assassin.)

Silva didn’t give any visible response. Chrollo was not surprised—he knew that the Zoldycks were well-trained in torture resistance, physical and mental, and a taunt like that would not phase him. Well then, Chrollo smiled inwardly, I wonder if their “training” would have included resistance to things like *this.*

His hands had been massaging slow circles over Silva’s lower back, but now he trailed them lower, lightly grazing the top of his buttocks. They were incredibly muscled, Chrollo observed, and incredibly pleasing to the sight…and to the touch. (Chrollo hadn’t even know before that he might be an “ass man”—after all, he was usually on the receiving end of such encounters with Phinks, as were the circumstances—but he made a mental note to bring the subject up with Phinks that he might want to switch it up in the future, though he wasn’t sure what Phinks’ reaction to the suggestion would be. Eh, well, why was he thinking of Phinks when he had this prize in his hands, literally.)

“You’ve got a great ass,” Chrollo announced. Suddenly, he raised his hand and smacked Silva across his buttocks. The muscle rippled—and jiggled—Chrollo was surprised and pleased to note. He had expected the older man’s ass to be all stiff muscles, but the skin and muscles were pliable—all the more convenient for what he planned to do.

More importantly—Silva reacted. It was there, barely, but he gasped when Chrollo’s hand made its sharp contact with his buttocks.

Chrollo grinned triumphantly.

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