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Spice

Summary:

She knew that people were whispering about her in the corridors. About how easy of a fuck she was, how her skirt seemed to get shorter each passing day.

She truly hated herself. What kind of girl was in love with her step brother while being in other boys beds every night?

Everyday whispers echoed through the school corridors, she bore the weight of their judgment. Each day, she was seeb as an easy conquest. each day her school skirt became shorter. What they didn't know is that all the boys she allowed to touch her were a desperate attempt to fill the void left by a certain person. How else could she cope with the fact that the love she felt for her childhood friend and stepbrother, Killua Zoldyck was unrequited?

 

(Heavily inspired by the Len Kagamine song "Spice +Cross-post wattpad and ao3)

Chapter Text

With trembling hands, she cautiously opened the front door, trying not to make a sound. The house lay in silence, as expected at this hour when everyone, including her step-siblings, was fast asleep. The main mansion belonged solely to them, while the butler's residence stood a little farther away.

She desperately tried to push aside the memory of Zebro's, their gatekeeper, pitying look just moments ago. It had been going on like this for nearly a year. Why couldn't he simply ignore her, as everyone else did? Anger surged within her, and she fiercely wiped away the tears threatening to escape. Her eye makeup had already smudged beyond repair.

Just as she was about to ascend the stairs, she glanced up and noticed someone standing at the top. He stood with an air of casualness, hands nonchalantly tucked into his pockets. Under the moonlight streaming through the giant window behind him, his skin seemed to radiate a soft glow. His face remained expressionless as his piercing blue eyes locked onto her. After what felt like an eternity, he turned away and disappeared.

She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Upon reaching her room, she undressed and stood before the full-body mirror positioned near her king-sized bed. Her neck was almost entirely covered in love bites, with a few bruises near her inner thigh. Disgust surged within her. She felt repulsive, and she knew it too well. Gently, she touched her smudged cheeks, her gaze fixed on the reflection of the girl in the mirror.

Her once lively honey brown eyes now appeared utterly lifeless. Large eyes, full lips, clear light brown skin, and long raven black hair with dyed green tips cascading down to her waist—a slender body with no trace of excess weight except for her decently sized bust. She was aware of her beauty, for she had been told so ever since she was a young child.

There was a time when he reluctantly called her beautiful. She had laughed then, amused by the way his words flustered him. She had returned the sentiment because he was beautiful too. He still is. Beautiful when he slept, beautiful when he was weary, beautiful even when he now looked at her with disdain. In her eyes, he always appeared flawless.

She crawled into her queensized bed, which seemed far too spacious for her alone. Such a vast bed felt lonely. She yearned to share it with him, just like they used to in the past. However, she knew it was an impossible dream.

As she switched off the lights, she pulled the covers over her head, curling up into a ball. When did she become so repugnant?

What normal seventeen-year-old spend her school nights with different guys, knowing that none of them truly cared for her?

What normal seventeen-year-old watched the person they love be infatuated with someone else, wishing it were her instead?

What normal seventeen-year-old harbored feelings for their stepbrother?

Gon Freecs. She was a pathetic, pitiful whore, deeply in love with her stepbrother and stuck whoring herself around, hoping to forget about him.