Kurapika x Reader - Oneshots

❥ Poor Little Rich Girl

Violence/death

I hug my knees and sob into the fabric of my pants, leaning against the wooden door.

"Kurapika, please let me in," I beg him with a wobbly voice, knowing well that he'll ignore me. And of course, no answer from him, I release a louder cry in response.

What a great way to spend a free Sunday.

He's probably sitting in our messy sheets, dirty from the "intimacy" he's shared with other women behind my back.

I slowly stand up and wipe my eyes with my palm, sniffling and wiping my nose with the same hand. I walk towards the couch with shaky legs, sitting down on it and covering myself with a fuzzy blanket.

I lean forward to grab the box of tissues off of the coffee table. I grab one and look into the box. "I'm all out..." My voice sounds different from my nose being stuffy.

Tossing the empty box back onto the coffee table, I wipe my eyes with my snotty hand again. I sit there, shifting my legs every minute or two, pondering what the options are now for me.

I jump at the sudden sound of a door flying open, slamming its handle against the stopper. Kurapika stomps out of the room, dressed in his "casual" black suit. My body starts shaking in fear and I immediately stand up, then sit back down again, filled with nervousness. And unable to find the right posture.

Kurapika throws his keys at me without warning, leaving a small mark on my arm from the force. They fall into my lap with the small jingle of the keychain.

"I'm going out tonight," Kurapika says aloud with a stoic voice, almost annoyed. I let out an uncontrollable whimper and speak in a low volume, "Please don't bring another woman home..."

Kurapika scoffs and gives me a threatening glare. "I can do whatever I please! I pay these bills, and I'm the only reason you're still alive." His words make me let another small sob as I put my hands over my chest.

"No, no... please don't...!" He ignores my pleas and walks out the front door, slamming it behind him, making me flinch. I take him leaving as a chance to cry my heart out.

My vision is blurry with salty tears as I look around the room for some sort of comfort, nothing but old photographs and paintings on the walls. If he allowed me to have some of my family or friends here, that would be great. But he is afraid they'd find some sort of evidence of the abuse, like holes in the walls, no new photo frames, or the lack of food in the house.

I stand up, the keys that were on my lap falling to the floor as I walk to the old glass case of expensive jewelry he showers me with after his missions, but never lets me outside or takes me on dates that give me a chance to show them off.

There's more jewelry in the case than photo frames of us together. I gulp as I see us standing together on our wedding day, we looked so happy together back then. I wish I could tell my past self it's a mistake to marry him, or even tell myself to change him before it's too late, if possible. I should have known better than to marry a hunter who shows more care for revenge than love.

But we all make foolish decisions.

I frown slightly at the thought of the new Kurapika. He gets so angry just at a simple of question of 'where have you been?'

I blink away a tear and swallow of ball of mucus in my throat, thinking of a way to distract me from the dispair I feel.

My brain and tongue both crave the bitter taste of alcohol, hoping to wash away my memories of sadness just for tonight– which I have said almost every night he's left me alone.