violet, blue, green, red | hisoka x chrollo x illumi x fem!reader | 18+

fifteen

Chrollo drops his hand, placing it under your thigh to hoist it over his hip, never once letting up. You didn't need space to breathe - Chrollo didn't need to run a mission, all you needed was each other and this explosive touch burning you deeper than you could withstand. But, neither of you cared. And neither of you noticed when the elevator doors pulled open.

And those golden eyes and sinister pupils laid upon your twisted bodies.

You don't feel anything at first, not until you meet Hisoka's stare from over Chrollo's shoulder. Then, you can feel it - the anger, the betrayal, the pure, filthy smell of bloodlust enclosing the small space. It flows forward like a faucet, stealing the breath from your lungs. Chrollo doesn't even care to notice the way you tense up, his mind is encaptured in a thick fog that he didn't want to pull himself out of. Not even Hisoka's wrath could pull him out of it, and neither does he try as the elevator starts to shut on the magician's face. 

You're hot to the touch, a mixture of fear and lust creating a thick shield over your skin as you start to push Chrollo away - just needing to catch your breath, needing to know that what it was you just saw was real and not some horrified delusion that stemmed from a past of torment. But it felt real. Every bone in your body ached with the presence of Hisoka's bloodlust and you hated it - hated this feeling, hated being trapped in this small area, hated how Chrollo suddenly started to seem too close. At this point, you were going to suffocate in fear. 

Chrollo grunts as you continue pushing at his shoulders, teeth bared as he finally steps back, noticing the way you're devoid of your color, eyes wide and hands trembling. It's not easy for him to contain himself once he lets himself get into one of these maniacal moods, driven from the incapacitating feeling of lust. But, for you, he'd try. 

"Do you need me to stop?" Chrollo takes your face in his own, needing that ease of contact - wanting to hold you. Deep down he's horrified that he's scared you off - threatened you with his body and unreciprocated feelings, but he knows even deeper down that that cannot be true. 

"Hiso-"

The elevator car, still stuck at the destination floor, shakes under your feet - a horrible metallic clamor coming from the doors as they're drawn open by force. You're horrified by what you see, Hisoka's tall body and, now, blown black eyes on the other side, his arms flexing with the strength of the doors as he pries them open. To you, it's a scene straight out of a horror - the ghost of your past coming back to haunt and kill you. To end it once and for all. 

There's nothing you can do but stand and watch as Hisoka enters the area, now insufferably small and uncomfortable. He doesn't look at you, just keeps his steely gaze focused on Chrollo. Internally, you know he's combing out the various ways in which he can bring about a painful death onto your blanketed lover. But all you can think about is him. His bloodlust is the only thing you can sense. 

Until everything goes black. 

~

Hisoka steps over your unconscious frame, the toe of his shoe dragging over your exposed cheek. He corners Chrollo against the back glass of the elevator, his rage melting and mingling with the dull air like an overflowing kettle. It's as if he had tunnel vision, his peripheral a stark black as he focuses in on Chrollo - once a lover, now a foe - a pesky concrete roadblock disrupting his carefully paved roadway that led straight to you.  Hisoka couldn't even think straight, not with the horrible vision of you and Chrollo haunting him every time he blinked. It set a grueling, painful heat in his stomach ablaze - the worst of his violence bubbling to the surface. All he wanted to do was kill, feel the warm stickiness of blood drip over his fingertips. 

But he couldn't - something always stopped him. 

"I don't mean to be rude, but perhaps this is why she wants nothing to do with you anymore."  Chrollo's eyes are wide, his face stoic and unchanging. He didn't care about Hisoka standing in front of him, so focused on the idea of killing him - all he could even think about was your unconscious body lying just in front of him. The impact was strong, quicker than he could even remember before you were toppling in over your unresponsive frame. A quick chop to the back of the neck - painless, but effective. Perhaps Hisoka did truly care for you, and for some reason that made Chrollo's stomach churn. 

"How dare you speak on something you have no clue about?" Hisoka's voice lingers like bad perfume in the enclosed space, eyes cutting daggers into Chrollo's being. For some reason, he wants to wrap his hand around Chrollo's milky neck - strip him of his pride once more before sucking the life from his body. It was deeper than wanting a quick, surface-level fight now - Hisoka wanted to own and torture every cell in his sacred body. 

Chrollo hated this battle for dominance Hisoka always seemed to push with him, but, he stands there, looking the vengeful magician in the eyes. And for the first time, he chooses to let himself be angry for you, not give in. "Your relationship is falling apart before your very eyes and yet you threaten me, instead of working through the issues? You start to resemble a joker more and more each day." 

"Don't get daring." Hisoka spits, using his pointer finger to press against the tattoo on Chrollo's forehead. Dominance came with touch, and Hisoka knew exactly what buttons to push to make Chrollo squirm. Yet, he wasn't budging - and Hisoka noticed. 

"Let me promise you something - there's nowhere Y/N can go that I won't follow, nowhere she can hide that I haven't already sought. So, choose your battle wisely, as I do not intend on sharing what's mine." 

Hisoka looks back down at your unconscious body as he backs away from Chrollo's stiff frame - still ever unchanging. He enjoys the way you look so peacefully unaware as if you were in a deep slumber. Death never crosses his mind - he'd never let himself kill you, and you'd never let yourself die by his hand. Not this easily. 

"She's always been beautiful... What a waste that she's such a mindless brat." Hisoka mutters finally before walking out of the elevator through the broken door. Chrollo lets a soft chuckle fall from his lips laced with relief and disbelief. He's only ever been threatened like this by one person, and that one person never failed to be Hisoka. 

He takes some time after Hisoka leaves to gather himself - running a hand through his hair, adjusting his collar. He had an auction to put on tonight, and whether or not you were conscious was only something that would only plague and distract him endlessly. But, as he walks out of the elevator, having to step over your body cautiously, he looks over at your face, lets out a deep breath, and walks away.

Out of sight, out of mind. 

From: Hisoka
I have a gift for you at the Cemetery Building - back elevator.
Take it home, play with it. Just make sure you keep it safe and secluded.
See you soon.

Illumi looks down at the aging message on his phone before looking back down to your unconscious body on the elevator car floor. The doors were jammed open, the lingering taste of bloodlust still wet in the air. This was Hisoka's work - Illumi knew the magician well enough to know when he's been playing in places he shouldn't have been, but he'd never thought it'd go as far as to hurt you. You were always where Hisoka drew his line, now seemingly wiped clean. 

It's been a few hours and the auction has finally simmered down, the streets dull and empty as the lateness of the night sweeps over them. Illumi has no idea just how long you've been alone like this, knocked cold and exposed to anyone who could walk by, but he was glad he was here now - finally able to touch you again. He couldn't stop thinking about you, the way you looked at him, the way your aura felt on his skin, the way your lips melted with his so effortlessly. The obsession was starting to bury itself back into the assassin's bones - a feeling he's come to hate, yet a feeling that he's no stranger to, and he welcomes it. 

"What have you gotten yourself into?" Illumi mumbles, more to himself than not. He knows you're unlikely to hear anything he says, but there's still an inkling in his mind that makes him believe hearing his voice will stir you awake. He kneels down next to you, tucking a long strand of hair behind his ear as he leans down to kiss your clammy forehead, your aura leaving a glow on Illumi's lips as he retracts. 

He finds himself checking your pulse once more before carefully scooping you up into his cradling arms. You fall over him in a limp heap, head, and legs dangling in the cool air of the dark hallway. The entire way back to his room, during the car ride and up the stairs, he dotes over you - touching you with the lightest feathery touch, whispering to you unknown, little phrases. And when he finally lays you down in his bed, he can't stop himself from lying down next to you, syncing his slow breaths with your own.