Killua x reader - 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉
Is this what love feels like?
That's until...you met Killua.
.
.
.
It was 3:00 AM on a stormy Saturday night. Outside, the rain lashed against the glass, punctuated by the occasional low rumble of thunder. Inside, your room was dead silent, save for the hum of your desk lamp. You had accidentally downed three whole cups of coffee just to survive tonight's study session, and now that you were finally finished, your brain was completely wired. Sleep wasn't happening.
So, you just sat there, staring mindlessly out the window into the dark storm, completely spaced out.
Suddenly, a shadow flickered. Killua—a student from the rival academy across town, though you didn't know that yet—had scaled the wall, looking to pull a fast one on whoever was still awake. He slid your window open, expecting a scream, a gasp, or at least a startled jump.
Instead, you just blinked at him, completely unbothered, your coffee-fueled brain refusing to process fear.
He leaned against the window frame, a bit disappointed by your total lack of a reaction, and smirked. "Hey, are you human?"
You didn't even flinch. Resting your chin in your hand, you let out a dry, deadpan sigh.
"Yeah, unfortunately. Are you? Because real people usually use the front door."
Killua's smirk widened, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with amusement under his messy silver hair. He let go of the window frame, casually stepping into your room as if he owned the place. He didn't look threatened at all; if anything, your absolute lack of survival instinct seemed to fascinate him.
"Touché," he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. He took a slow, deliberate look around your room, noting the high-end finishes and the sheer size of the place before turning his gaze back to your exhausted, deadpan face.
"But honestly? Considering the appearance of your home, your bodyguards could've kicked me out. I mean, I could zap them, but I don't want to cause a commotion."
He shrugged, his tone incredibly nonchalant for someone who had just casually threatened to electrocute your family's security detail. He stepped closer to your desk, tilting his head to look at the massive stack of textbooks and the three empty coffee mugs cluttering your workspace.
"Besides," he added, poking one of the empty mugs with a pale finger, "judging by the looks of this, it seems your biggest enemy tonight wasn't an intruder. It was whatever exam you were cramming for. You look like a zombie."
"What me? There's no exam..."
Killua blinked, his finger freezing on the rim of the coffee mug. For a second, his smug expression slipped, replaced by genuine bewilderment. He looked from the empty mugs to your completely blank, sleep-deprived face, trying to process what you just said.
"Wait, let me get this straight," he said, dropping his hands into his pockets and leaning back against the edge of your desk. "You're telling me you downed three whole cups of coffee at three in the morning... for fun? No test? No crazy deadline? You're just... like this?"
He let out a short, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. The silver strands of his hair caught the dim light of your desk lamp.
"Man, and people think I'm weird," he muttered, though a fresh, sharp grin quickly found its way back to his face. He leaned in a bit closer, his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of curiosity and mischief. "So, what's the deal then? Are you just naturally powered by caffeine and terrible life choices, or do you always welcome late-night intruders with a blank stare?"
Your unblinking, zombie-like stare stretched on for a few seconds too long. Under the quiet hum of the desk lamp, Killua's confident posture stiffened. A faint, dusty pink color crept up his cheeks, and he quickly crossed his arms again, shifting his weight.
"What?" he huffed, puffing out his cheeks a little as your silent evaluation began to break through his cool exterior. "Is there something on my face?"
You finally let out a slow, heavy sigh, shifting your chin in your hand.
"Y'know, you look like a kid. How old are you?"
Killua's jaw practically dropped, completely offended by the question. He snapped his head back, his cat-like eyes narrowing as he glared at you.
"A kid?! Who are you calling a kid?!" he sputtered, pointing a finger at his own chest. "I am twelve years old, thank you very much! And for your information, I'm way more mature than I look!"
He stepped away from the desk, pacing a few steps across your room before turning back to face you, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
"Anyway, age doesn't matter when I could easily sneak past a whole mansion full of trained security guards," he added, trying to regain his smug composure, though the slight pout on his face completely ruined the tough-guy act. "What about you? You're sitting here looking like a walking corpse—how old are you supposed to be?"
"I'm nine years old," you stated, your voice completely flat.
Killua instantly choked on his own saliva. He hacked, chest heaving, and looked at you with wide, horrified eyes before practically screaming in a frantic stage-whisper:
"NINE?! WHAT IS A NINE-YEAR-OLD DOING WITH A LIFE LIKE THIS?!"
You didn't even blink at his near-explosion. Resting your cheek heavily against your palm, you just tracked his chaotic movements with a dull, unbothered gaze.
"Careful," you said, your voice a soothing, deadpan monotone. "You're going to wake up the security team. And then you'll have to zap them, and you explicitly said you didn't want to cause a commotion."
Killua finally stopped coughing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His face was flushed a bright, indignant red, his usual cool-guy rival persona completely shattered by a literal third-grader.
"I don't care about the guards right now!" he hissed, leaning in so close his silver hair practically poked your forehead. He gestured wildly at the graveyard of empty coffee mugs. "I care about the fact that a nine-year-old is sitting in the dark at three in the morning, looking like they've already worked a twenty-year corporate shift! Who even lets you buy this much caffeine?!"
He threw his hands up, utterly baffled, before dropping heavily onto the edge of your bed. He stared at you, crossing his arms and letting out a defeated sigh.
"Seriously," he muttered, his cat-like eyes narrowing in deep suspicion. "Are you secretly some kind of miniature super-spy, or is your academy just that brutal?"
"My parents are, not my academy," you murmured, your gaze drifting down to the polished wood of your desk. You let out a quiet, tired sigh before looking back up at him. "Besides... why do you care?"
Killua flinched slightly, his dramatic hand gestures freezing mid-air. For a split second, a heavy, unreadable look crossed his sharp blue eyes—something way too dark and familiar for a twelve-year-old—before he quickly masked it with a defensive scoff.
He looked away, staring down at his sneakers and lightly kicking the base of your desk chair.
"I don't care," he muttered, huffing out a breath and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "I was just trying to pull a prank, okay? It's no fun when the person I'm dropping in on looks like they've already died inside. It completely ruins the vibe."
He glanced back at you through his silver bangs, trying to regain his usual smug, detached composure. But his eyes kept drifting back to the stack of heavy books and the empty mugs.
"Besides," he added, his voice dropping a bit lower, a rare trace of genuine understanding slipping through his tough-guy act, "parents who make a nine-year-old live like this are usually bad news. Trust me, I'd know."
The heavy mood lasted for only a second before he instantly bounced back, a sharp, cat-like grin breaking across his face. He walked over to your bookshelf, casually running a finger along the spines.
"But whatever! If you're going to be a zombie all night, the least you can do is entertain your guest," he said, turning around to face you with an expectant smirk. "Got any video games in this massive room, or do your parents only allow you to read encyclopedia volumes for fun?"
Before Killua could even finish his sentence, a loud, cheerful voice shattered the stormy night, echoing from the courtyard below.
"KILLUAAAAA! WHERE ARE YOUUUU?!"
Killua stiffened, his silver hair practically standing on end. He bolted to the open window, leaning out into the rain. "Gon?! I'm here, wassup?"
Right on cue, a boy with spiky black hair and a green jacket stood drenched in the downpour, looking up at your second-story window with a comically exasperated expression. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled right back:
"YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO CLIMB INTO OTHER'S ROOM LIKE THATTTTT!!!"
"Keep it down, idiot! You're gonna wake up the whole neighborhood!" Killua hissed back, waving his arms frantically. He turned back to look at you, entirely embarrassed that his "cool assassin" stealth mission had been turned into a public comedy routine. "I wasn't doing anything bad! I was just... investigating!"
Gon, completely ignoring Killua's panic, scaled the wall with terrifying ease, his sneakers squeaking loudly against the brick before he hoisted himself right over your windowsill. He landed gracefully inside, dripping water all over your expensive hardwood floor.
"Sorry about him!" Gon beamed, completely ignoring the fact that he had also just broken into your house. He offered you a massive, bright smile that completely clashed with the 3:00 AM gloom. "I'm Gon! Killua usually has better manners than this, I promise!"
You just sat there, still resting your chin in your hand, your coffee-addled brain trying to process a second intruder.
Killua smacked his own forehead, groaning loudly. "Gon, she's nine. And she's drinking enough caffeine to see through time. Don't apologize to her, she's already judging us."
Gon's bright, cheerful smile vanished instantly. His jaw dropped so low it looked like it might unhinge, and his big brown eyes went completely round with utter disbelief.
"NINE?!" Gon shrieked, his voice cracking so loudly it nearly drowned out the thunder outside.
He whipped his head around, staring at the graveyard of empty coffee mugs on your desk, then back to your tiny, completely unfazed face, and finally at Killua. The realization hit him like a freight train, and his face instantly flushed a furious, comically over-the-top red. Steam practically hissed from his ears.
"KILLUA!!!" Gon roared, stomping his wet sneaker against your floor. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU CAN'T BREAK INTO A NINE-YEAR-OLD'S ROOM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! THAT'S WAY PAST A PRANK, THAT'S JUST SUPER CREEPY!!!"
"Hey! Lower your voice, you giant idiot!" Killua hissed, panicking and trying to shove his hands over Gon's mouth. "I didn't know she was nine when I climbed up here! She was just sitting there looking like a zombie!"
"I DON'T CARE!" Gon yelled through Killua's fingers, pulling away with a look of pure, righteous indignation. He turned to you, his eyes brimming with dramatic, protective tears as he grabbed you by the shoulders—completely matching your deadpan energy with his 150% intensity. "Are you okay?! Did he scare you?! Don't worry, I'll protect you from this silver-haired weirdo! You shouldn't be dealing with intruders, you should be sleeping and growing tall!"
You just sat there, your chin still resting heavily in your hand, blinking through the absolute chaos unfolding in your bedroom.
Killua threw his hands in the air, completely exasperated. "Gon, look at her face! Does she look scared to you?! She's literally mocking us with her eyes right now!"
Gon didn't care about Killua's logic. He was a man on a mission, and that mission was protecting a tiny, caffeinated child. He aggressively pointed a finger at the empty coffee mugs, his face still twisted into a comically furious pout.
"And another thing!" Gon yelled, stepping between you and Killua like a human shield. "Why is she drinking coffee?! Killua, did you give her this?! Mito-san says coffee stunts your growth and makes your brain fuzzy! She's supposed to be drinking warm milk!"
"For the last time, I just got here!" Killua shouted back, his teeth turning into sharp anime shark teeth as he yelled right into Gon's face. "She drank those all by herself! She's a maniac, Gon! A mini-maniac!"
"I don't believe you!" Gon huffed, crossing his arms and puffing out his cheeks so hard he looked like a blowfish. "No nine-year-old drinks three cups of black coffee! You're clearly corrupting her!"
While the two of them stood nose-to-nose, aggressively bickering at the top of their lungs, you slowly reached out with your free hand. With a dull, unbothered expression, you picked up the third empty mug, tipped it upside down over your mouth, and desperately tried to catch the very last, lingering drop of lukewarm espresso on your tongue.
Clink.
The sound of the ceramic mug hitting the desk again was small, but it completely froze the two boys.
Killua slowly turned his head, his eyes twitching as he pointed a trembling finger at you. "See?! See?! I told you! She's doing it right in front of us! She's completely lawless!"
Gon's over-the-top anger instantly crumbled into pure, tragic horror. He dropped to his knees right next to your desk chair, clutching his head as if he were witnessing a tragedy. "Noooo! Stop! It's bad for your bones! Killua, do something! Call an ambulance! Her heart is gonna explode!"
"I am not calling an ambulance for a kid who has a higher caffeine tolerance than a truck driver," Killua muttered, dragging a hand down his face, completely exhausted by both of you.
You just sat there, completely on a cloud, staring blankly at the two boys as they continued to bicker. Your brain, completely fried from the three cups of coffee and the ungodly hour, felt like it was floating a few feet above your body.
As Gon dramatically wept for your bones and Killua aggressively argued about truck drivers, you couldn't help but think about how incredibly interesting Killua was. He had scaled a wall in a thunderstorm just to be a menace, but the second he realized your situation, his smug assassin routine had completely melted into something almost... human.
A faint, dry chuckle barely escaped your lips, though your face remained entirely expressionless. It was honestly hilarious. Here you were, in a massive, expensive room surrounded by top-tier security, and yet these two random intruders who had literally just broken through your window cared more about your well-being, your sleep schedule, and your heart rate than your own parents ever did. If your parents were here, they'd probably just ask why you hadn't finished a fourth textbook yet.
"Hey," Killua's voice snapped you out of your daze. He had stepped away from a still-pouting Gon and was leaning over your desk again, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he inspected your totally checked-out expression. He snapped his fingers right in front of your nose. "Earth to zombie kid. You're spacing out hard. Are you finally crashing, or is your brain actively melting?"
Gon poked his head up from the floor, his anger instantly switching back to wide-eyed worry. "Killua, don't snap at her! What if her vision is getting blurry?!"
A tiny, calm smile slowly spread across your face—a sharp contrast to the absolute circus happening in your bedroom. You rested your cheek fully into your palm, looking at the two of them with an eerie calmness that finally made both boys stop talking.
"I'm Y/N," you said softly, your voice finally holding a bit of warmth instead of that robotic monotone.
Killua blinked, catching the sudden shift in your demeanor. The sight of you actually smiling—instead of looking like a tiny, caffeine-powered ghost—seemed to throw him off completely. He crossed his arms, his cheeks tinting a faint pink again as he looked away, clearing his throat.
"Uh... right. Y/N," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, at least you're not entirely a zombie."
"That's a pretty name!" Gon beamed, completely forgetting his existential panic about your bone density. He bounced up from the floor, his eyes sparkling. "See, Killua? She's nice! You shouldn't have been so mean to her."
"I wasn't being mean!" Killua barked back, his sharp teeth making a brief reappearance. He glanced back at you, his eyes softening just a fraction as he took in your small smile. "Anyway... it's a good thing you can still smile, kid. For a second there, I thought your brain was permanently fried."
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