#phinks x black fem!reader

[thatwasntverycashmoneyofme]

—𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌

`𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴? 𝘪 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴’

♧↝𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 ♤↝𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 ♡↝𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ♢↝𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄

…𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝗎𝗏💙

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Feitan Portor NSFW Profile

Yandere! Feitan Portor x fem! reader

Tw: mentions of non/dub-con, stalking, masturbation, kidnapping, spit, drool, lots and lots of cum, Feitan is gross and icky and comes in your conditioner I'm so sorry, seriously this one is pretty gross I apologize now, bondage, ropes, blood, period sex, consumption of period blood, Stockholm Syndrome, a few mentions of reader having pubic hair, mentions of premature ejaculation, Feitan has intimacy issues, a touch of sadomasochism, dry humping, blindfolds, begging, edging, overstimulation, there's a lot going on, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

WC: 12K (oh my god)

HABITS:

Even amongst the Troupe, Feitan is particularly emotionally stunted. 

Of course, he knows about relationships, about the intimacy that ensues - he’s never personally fucked anyone, but he knows how it goes, what it’s like (at least, in theory), how it’s supposed to feel. He’s just never wanted to - his libido is actually quite low, and although he’s spent nights tossing and turning in bed, cock throbbing and aching for attention, he’s never felt the urge to find some random woman for a fun, stress relieving night. 

Sure, he’s jerked off more times than he can count, and he’s been to more strip clubs with Phinks and Uvogin than he’d care to admit. He’s been around it his whole life, even from a young age as a child in Meteor City - so yes, he knows about sex. 

He’s just never been able to tolerate someone long enough to consider sleeping with them, much less actively wanting to sleep with them. And yet, once you step into his life, Feitan finds himself uncomfortably aroused by the idea of letting his hands wander your body, of seeing the way your pretty face would scrunch up in pleasure, of hearing your little moans and yelps when he kisses you and sinks his teeth in just a bit too hard. 

Once his obsession with you forms and he begins moving past some of those initial mental barriers, Feitan finds himself beginning to crave you intimately, physically, sexually. And, just as the rest of his feelings for you, he hates it at first. 

He hates how just a simple thought of you has his body growing hot, the collar of his jacket uncomfortably tight as he shifts his weight, trying to ignore the way blood is steadily rushing south. 

He hates how just a simple look from you, with your eyes all innocent yet sultry, makes him gulp a bit, his fingers twitching at his side. He doesn’t like how he can’t control his body’s reaction to you, but it’s not like he can help it - it’s instinctual, primal, carnal, as if his body is recognizing that you’re the chosen one for him to fornicate with, as if you’re the only one worthy of his sexual attention.

Feitan doesn’t like this change in developments much, but quickly he finds himself at a crossroads; he can spend nearly every night staring at the black of his ceiling, laying in bed and glancing down at the massive tent in the sheets centered around his crotch, or he can give in and get working, letting his hand run along the length of his cock all with you on his mind.

 He doesn’t feel guilty about masturbating to you, per se, but there is this weird sense of embarrassment that sits heavy in his chest as he exhales shakily and spreads the bead of precum along his shaft. There is this weird feeling like he’s doing something bad, something naughty, as if you’d be disgusted if you were to ever find out.

It makes him feel strange, but he almost likes it - it’s a thrill he gets, particularly to the knowledge that you’d probably be disgusted to know he wrings himself dry (often more than once at a time) nearly every night, all with the mental image of you naked, writhing and stuffing your fingers into that warm, wet, oh so fucking tight cunt of yours. 

He’d never admit, but he’d give anything to be your fingers, to feel the sensation of being inside you, even if it was only for a few moments. (That’d probably be enough to make come the first time he fucks you, anyways.)

Once he gives in to getting off with you in mind, Feitan finds himself fucking his fist frequently, frantically, his hips thrusting into his hand faster and rougher the longer he goes on, the longer the image of you crying his name and clenching down around his cock plays behind his eyelids.

He wraps his hand around his girth and immediately starts violently pumping his fist up and down, until he’s eventually stuttering your name and coming, sending spurts of cum flying up onto his chest, the white staining his pale chest. It feels good, or at least good enough to satisfy him for the moment, up until he ends up palming himself through his pants the next night. 

It’s a never ending cycle, and frankly it leaves Feitan frustrated – it’s just not enough. The thought of you is more than enough, really, to functionally get him shooting ropes of cum out of his swollen, needy tip, but there’s this part of him buried deep inside that needs more, something to make him feel like it’s really you he’s touching and fucking. 

It’s not enough to be the one touching himself, when he knows it would feel different if it was your soft hand, your warm lips, your tight walls. He needs something more, something more intimate and personal and you in order to really get himself off, to really feel connected to you in the way he craves. 

And so, Feitan makes a discovery one evening that changes everything; he has a penchant for sneaking into your room after you’ve fallen asleep, the dismal security of your apartment something he’s simultaneously grateful and irritated with you for. He likes to just watch you sleeping, those dark eyes taking in every detail about your unconscious form, all exposed for his viewing pleasure without you even knowing it. 

He always shuffles closer the longer he watches, his feet taking just a tiny step every once in a while, just because he can smell you better when he’s closer, see more detail in your skin and features, and it’s only after he’s crept his way right up to your side that he notices it. He should be disgusted, he thinks, when he sees the bit of drool slipping past your lips, your slumber deep enough that you haven’t noticed the wet pool of it against your pillow. 

He should be grimacing and scooting away, revolted by something so gross, but instead Feitan finds his eyes getting caught on the way your lips are just slightly parted, the wetness against your chin shining ever so slightly in the pale moonlight. 

He doesn’t really know why he does it, but soon his fingers are reaching out, lightly brushing against your lip, a sharp inhale audible as he feels the warm wetness of your saliva against his fingertips. He’ll retract his hand, staring with narrowed eyes, before slowly, carefully bringing his fingers to his own mouth, slipping them past his lips, letting his eyes flutter closed because he’s tasting you. 

It’s euphoric, your spit sweet and leaving the perfect tang on his tongue, and suddenly Feitan’s reaching into his jacket pockets, frantically searching for the vial he keeps on hand, just in case he needs a bit of blood from a victim or enemy. He gulps when he finally pulls it out, wiping at it to rid it of any remaining blood, before carefully bringing the glass up to your face, positioning it right below your chin so that the next bit of drool to drip out of your mouth lands in the vial rather than on your pillow. 

It’s a slow process, filling it up, but Feitan’s committed, spending every night sitting beside your bed, watching you sleep and seeing the glass slowly fill with your drool, collected all for him. And when he finally has enough? Well, it’s easy to transition from slowly dipping his fingers in the vial and letting his tongue glide over them to letting the spit cover other areas of his body, even if the mere idea makes him scoff while a blush settles over the bridge of his nose. 

It’s not until one night, though, that he finally takes the plunge, crossing a line he can never recover from. He’d been particularly pent up, his cock absolutely swollen, aching and desperate for release, and his fist was just not enough. Even as he pounded away, biting his lip and furrowing his thin brows, the pleasure just wouldn’t come. 

His eyes wander from his ceiling down to his dresser, zeroing in on the glass vial sitting so innocently, so provocatively, practically taunting him to come closer. He’s snatching up the glass before he can really think, sitting back down and tearing the top off, his fingers moving faster than he can process. 

Soon, he’s dipping them in, swirling them a bit to make sure they’re really covered, but instead of bringing them to his lips, his hands travel south - gripping onto his cock, the wet coolness making him hiss through his teeth. He brings his wrist up, your saliva slowly smearing along his shaft, leaving it wet and twitching in the cold air of his bedroom, visibly throbbing as he runs his thumb over his slit, making sure to absolutely drench himself with your spit. 

His eyes slide shut, head rolled back slightly as he moves his hand at a steady, painfully slow pace, trying to calm his heart rate because this is so very different from before. It’s different, if only because it’s you - your saliva is letting his hand move smoother, your saliva coating his skin, you helping him to get off. It makes him feel dizzy, the familiar coil in his stomach appearing embarrassingly quickly as he speeds up his fist, images of you playing behind his eyes. 

He can’t help but imagine you on your knees before him, staring up at him with those pretty eyes, all wide and glassy and yearning, with your hands tied behind your back and your lips parted, pink tongue lolled out and waiting for him to fill that tight throat of yours. He grunts, squeezing at his tip, digging his fingers back through the vial to refresh the supply of your drool, and in his mind he’s slowly tracing your lips with the head, smearing his precum along your skin as you clench your thighs together and hum, practically begging him to facefuck you. 

Feitan hunches forward slightly as his wrist moves even faster, hand flying up and down his shaft, wet noises accompanying every jerk all caused by the excessive wetness he’s coated himself with, the feeling of your spit exactly what he’d be feeling if he was actually stuffing your little mouth, dark hairs tickling your cheeks and nose as he pushes your head all the way down, so that his tip is nestled down your throat. 

He lets out a guttural groan at that, a strained noise that makes him grimace, but he can’t help it - his orgasm is approaching, and he can’t help but listen to the wet squelching noises and imagine your gags and sharp breaths accompanying them, his toes curling. It feels so good, a building warmth in his naval that only grows bigger, stronger, more insistent, and all too soon he’s imagining the way you’d present your face to him when he pulls out and strokes himself over your face, cum spurting from his tip and landing in rivulets all along your cheeks, lips, nose, even getting into your hair.

You’d look so good, all messy and out of breath and covered in him him him, just as he is you. 

He bares his teeth as he feels himself right on the edge, his fingers clutching onto the vial so tightly he nearly shatters it, his cock bobbing and throbbing, balls clenching as he curls in on himself, small chants of your name mumbled under breath and then he’s coming, cum spraying everywhere as he gasps, hips bucking involuntarily into the air, chasing after his fist with every pump, aching to be releasing inside you, where it belongs. 

He takes a moment to come down from his high, chest heaving and eyes wide, staring down at the vial in his shaking hand, the weight of his orgasm shocking him. He’d never come so hard, like every muscle in his body was spasming, the pleasure nearly overwhelming. His eyes flick over to the clock, and he splutters, seeing the time. 

3:08, meaning only three minutes had passed since he’d snatched up the vial, feeling your spit against his skin, feeling you against the sensitive skin of his cock. 

His eyes close, his breath finally evening out, before he’s carefully setting the vial aside, recapping it and laying onto his back, trying to process why the hell he’d come so fast with something as grotesque as your spit to help him. He’s not sure, but then the images return of you on your knees for him, face still covered in his release and telling him that you want more, please Feitan, will you give me more? 

He groans as he feels his softening cock suddenly begin growing once more, his hips twitching as he reaches down to lightly grope at his balls, swallowing and deciding whether to dip his fingers into the vial yet again - he only has a limited supply, after all, and he’d be needing it again tomorrow night when he inevitably lets his mind wander to thoughts of you tied up and begging for him. 

He grumbles, a strained sort of sound, before getting to work once more, spitting into his hand and letting a small, barely there smile grace his lips, the slight flush still high on his cheeks. He’d have to get some more, he decided, because this? 

Well, fucking you was surely better, but Feitan would be a food to not capitalize on this new discovery - and when he’s painting his chest with ribbons of cum again a few minutes later, he decides that he’ll never go back to not having something of yours to aid him while he gets off. 

It’s just more intimate this way, better, like you’re really there - like you’re really naked and ready to fulfill every need, desire and fantasy of his. 

Like you want him. 

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your face

In general, Feitan thinks you’re attractive. He’s hesitant to say beautiful or pretty or really anything of the sort, if only because the way he feels for you is a bit more complicated than that. 

You’re not just pretty; you’re alluring, someone that always seems to catch his eye no matter how hard he tries to stop it. 

You’re not beautiful; objectively, there’s nothing about you that he hasn’t seen in hundreds of other women, whether it be your hair, your lips, your figure, or anything else. (Except maybe your eyes, or maybe your smile - things that are just so unapologetically you, things that Feitan thinks he could recognize with his eyes closed.) 

You’re nothing particularly special, physically speaking, and yet there’s something about you that he just can’t shake, some involuntarily thing that motivates him to always have his eyes on you, his body unconsciously facing you, his senses just so very aware of you. And because Feitan spends so much time simply watching you, he’s become extremely well antiquated with your features, with your pretty face that always seems to pull him in, like a moth to a flame. 

He’s memorized the way your lips curve, the soft skin puckering and moving with every word you say, and he often finds his gaze flicking down to watch while you talk, eyes sitting there idly as he lets his mind wander to what else you can do with those lips, what other shapes they can make. 

He’s studied every slope of your nose, the shape seeming to fit your face perfectly, and he even finds himself turning his lip when he sees models or celebrities with the same nasal structure - it doesn’t look nearly as good on them as it does you. 

And of course, your eyes - he’s spent more hours than he can count looking into them, unwilling to break the eye contact as he stares, fascinated with the color, how they shine in the light, how sunlight seems to make them glow, making you glow. 

So while there’s not any particular thing Feitan can say makes you attractive, you just are - enough so that he’s found himself seeing flashing images of your face late at night, when he’s unable to sleep and polishing his weapons, letting his mind wander and inevitably stumble into thoughts of you. He’ll relive the way you look when you smile - your grin is wide, teeth exposed, the pretty skin of your lips all stretched to accommodate your joy. 

You look good like that, and all too soon his innocent thought process of you is slipping into something sinister, something dirty and risqué, because now he’s imagining the way you’d smile up at him when he’s got you underneath him, your pretty little pleas and desperate begs for him to touch you making his skin tingle and his throat feel stuffy. 

He’s imagining the way you’d lick your lips when he tells you to get on your knees, his cock mere inches from your face as he strokes  himself, the eagerness and hunger in your eyes making him rush forward and bury himself down your throat in one go.

He’s imagining the way you’d look when he’s got you creaming on his cock, face pressed against the mattress and a mixture of tears and drool slipping down your chin, the pleasure just too much, even while your hips grind back on him, wanting more more more. 

He just likes your face, finding it oddly pleasing, and when the two of you are intimate, he finds himself eagerly searching out your facial expressions as often as possible - it’s the way he knows what you like, if you’re enjoying what he’s doing to you, if he’s doing a good job. 

So really, exaggerate the expressions, make it clear exactly what you’re feeling, and Feitan will be over the fucking moon - pounding into you with a new vigor, a sudden resolve to get you coming at least twice before he’s done with you. You’re just too attractive for him to resist, and he’s only a man, after all. 

His hands 

In general, Feitan is a fan of showing his feelings rather than articulating them, and even then only to an extent. 

There’s only so far he’s willing to expose his vulnerability, and it just becomes easier and less scary to just show you, to let his actions speak louder. And despite it taking a very, very long time for him to grow comfortable enough to actually act on this philosophy, one of the first ways that he’ll settle into touching you is with his hands. 

They’re rough, the skin calloused and scarred, pale fingers just the slightest bit off in certain spots, evidence of the multitudes of times he’s broken them. His fingers are lithe, nimble, quick and dexterous, evidence of his abilities with swords and the various tools he uses for work. And so, once he turns his hands onto you, you’ll notice all these things. 

It starts small - a fleeting feeling of his fingers pressing against the small of your back, merely a ghost of a touch that leaves you wondering if you really felt anything at all. 

He’ll reach out to flick at your forehead if you do something dumb (something endearing, but dumb), glaring at you and telling you to stop it, though his fingers are tingling where they made contact with your skin. 

He’ll lightly lay his hand on your hip, or on your thigh, keeping it there for a few moments before snatching it back to his own side, his hand flexing and the muscles tightening up because god, did you like that? Did you like it when he touched you? 

He gets in his head way too much about how you react to his touch, but the truth is that Feitan is incredibly touch starved, particularly when it comes to any sort of positive or romantic touch. 

He’s a criminal and has grown up in horrible conditions, and he’s simply never cared. But now that you’re here, someone for him to live out all those cliche, stupid romantic tropes? Well, he can’t directly ask for your affection, but you’ll notice the way his hands lay on your body for just a beat too long, just enough to make you wonder whether that touch was really as innocent as he seems to think it was (it’s not, at least not as much as he wishes - every time his skin brushes yours, this spark of electricity dances up his spine, making him gulp and tense up, because while the feeling blooming in his chest is warm and good, it’s still foreign, still something he hasn’t quite gotten used to yet).

And even once he reaches the stage where he’s grown comfortable enough with the concept of being intimate with you to actually touch you, he still relies heavily on his hands. Particularly, Feitan grows an affinity for fingering you - he loves the way your cunt just seems to suck his fingers in, as if your body is begging for more and more of him, craving his touch and the pleasure only he can give you. 

He’ll experiment a lot with you at first, curling his fingers or scissoring them, dark eyes appraising your face and checking for any changes in expression that could hint at what rhythm or area you like. 

(You’ll wonder where he learned some of the motions he tries out on you - he’ll never admit to watching porn to learn some ideas, nor that he practiced them before trying them out on you, his hand sandwiched between two pillows as he diligently curled them, perfecting the ‘come hither’ motion or letting his thumb practice rubbing tight, firm circles against the cotton. No, he’d rather die than have you learn that - you can’t know how badly he wants to please you, after all.) 

He likes to watch his fingers dipping inside you, the way they emerge all wet and glistening, a ring of white sitting right above his knuckles and filling him with pride. 

(Often, he finds himself idly staring at his fingers after you’ve fallen asleep, your body sore and exhausted after the fucking he’d put you through. He’ll spread them, staring from all angles, remembering the feeling of your wet heat around them, how your walls clamped down on him, even how your lips and tongue flicked across them when he’d shoved them into your mouth earlier. He’ll bring them to his lips, idly sucking on them, trying in vain to get every last drop of you off of them, so that he can taste you for just a moment longer, just to satisfy himself for as long as he can.) 

He’s a late bloomer and it will take him a long while to reach the point of being willing to touch you sexually (though he wants to from pretty much the get-go, much to his embarrassment), but once he does, you’d better get used to the feeling of his hands against your skin - after all, he’s insistent, and you do not want to reject his touch. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just moan and sigh and tell him it feels good, because Feitan is just so much more agreeable when he’s happy - you’ll get to come that way, too.

DRIVE:

Generally speaking, Feitan’s libido has never been especially high. Sex has never been a priority for him, and even once his days as a Troupe member begin, this doesn’t change. He doesn’t see the attraction to sleeping around, to fucking random women just for a few minutes of fleeting pleasure. 

It’s just so much work to be around others, to have to communicate and hear their complaining when he doesn’t put effort into making them feel good – it’s just not fun, not something he wants to spend his time with. And so, while Feitan is certainly no saint, he doesn’t actively seek out sexual partners. And he especially doesn’t seek out touching another person, letting himself be touched, becoming vulnerable in any possible way.

So, once you step into his life, this self-inflicted celibacy doesn’t really change all that much. Of course, the idea of touching you is significantly more attractive than it would be to touch a random stranger, but Feitan is still not especially eager to fuck you once his obsession develops. 

He’s a bit of a late bloomer, taking a while to let his emotions warm up to you. In doing so, it takes a long, long time for his sexual urges towards you to appear, because Feitan prides himself on having good self control. But once he fully gives in to the fact that he wants you, in a way that’s entirely new and scary and foreign to him, the urges begin appearing. 

The idly thoughts wondering what you’re wearing, what you’re thinking about, if you’re in the mood… He’s still not as horny as some of his fellow Troupe members, but Feitan begins regularly imagining fucking you, the thoughts seemingly popping out of nowhere and completely unannounced. 

Frankly, it’s irritating; why is he imagining you without a shirt on when Phinks is telling him about the latest job Chrollo had paired them up for? (It’s a pain in the ass to hide the slowly growing tent in his trousers from the blond - he always just seems to know, and Feitan would rather die than be subjected to the never ended teasing.) 

Why is he imagining the way your lips would feel wrapped around his cock when he’s slicing off that man’s head, the cut clean and clear yet the only thing he can think of being how your cheeks would hollow as you suck? 

It’s annoying, and although he tries to fight it at first, he eventually gives up. There’s only so much he can stop himself from imagining, and as his obsession grows deeper, the perverse fantasies he holds towards you only grow more numerous, more pronounced, more longed for. He finds himself actively wanting to be intimate with you, and while he won’t act on that desire for a very long time, it’s left to quality sit, festering and brewing inside him until one day it’s all just too much, a dam bursting that forces him to finally take that last step, to let himself rest a hand on you or brush his lips against your cheek or graze his finger along your nipple. 

He doesn’t move very fast, but Feitan’s in no rush - after all, you’re stuck with him for the rest of your life, and he’ll be the only other human you’ll ever interact with. By the time he’s ready to progress your relationship forward, you’ll likely have come around, desperate enough for human contact that you’ll want him to touch you, that you’ll want to touch him back. 

Just the thought makes him gulp and flex his fingers, excitement and anxiety settling into his stomach, his cock growing half hard even as his mind winces. 

However, because he has so many issues surrounding intimacy and vulnerability, Feitan will likely never actually force you into anything. 

Because you’re likely to come around and develop Stockholm Syndrome by the time he’s ready to touch you, you’ll be more than eager to let his hand rest on your waist, or to let him stand behind you so that your ass is pressed against his crotch, the tent in his pants more than apparent. You’ll be ready, but until he’s ready, he has to find alternatives. 

Because he’s still frequently experiencing sexual urges towards you way before he’s willing to act on them, Feitan finds himself quite sexually frustrated. He has all these dirty thoughts, all these possessive, insistent feelings urging him to just take you, to stake his claim on you by stuffing you full of his cock and cum, and he has to release them somehow. 

And so, he falls back on a method that he isn’t necessarily proud of, but does find some sick, twisted sense of pride and amusement from. That is, because he’s the one supplying literally everything to you once you’re trapped under his roof, it’s not so hard to tamper with some of the ingredients of your essentials. 

Your conditioner, for instance; he buys you the brand you love (something he tells you is coincidence but most certainly isn’t), and as he opens the cap and smells it one day while you’re asleep in the next room over, he can’t help but notice how creamy it is, how thick and how white it is.

It make shim gulp, and after quickly making sure to lock the bedroom door you’re trapped behind, Feitan shakily returns to the bathroom, exhaling deeply. It’s just a coincidence that the conditioner resembles something that he produces, right? 

It’s an amusing twist of fate that your favorite conditioner (with the scent he can only describe as you) looks almost exactly like his cum, right? 

Feitan thinks so, and as his mind wanders back to the little stunt you’d pulled earlier in the day, he finds himself settling onto the closed toilet lid, reaching into his pants and pulling out his cock, already drooling precum and sensitive to the touch. 

You’d been laying on your bed, blanket barely covering your body as you slept, the skimpy pajamas you’d fallen asleep in in disarray on your figure. Your shirt had bunched up, letting one pert, supple breast slip out, your nipple on display, not even the blanket managing to cover it up. 

(He’d froze when he noticed, slowly creeping closer, licking his lips and unable to stop staring.) 

And those damn sleeping shorts, always getting moved around and never quite sitting right on your hips when you wake up, were twisted a bit, the holes for your legs angled just right so that if he looked the right way, he could see the very edge of your cunt, one lip covered with pretty pubic hairs, looking soft and warm and so fuckable. 

You were asleep, and somewhere in Feitan’s mind he knows you weren’t doing it on purpose, but it’s hard not to blame you for being so indecent, for hoping to tempt Feitan into giving in. You’re such a fucking minx, all teasing and daring to show off your assets, and how was Feitan supposed to react to this? How was he not supposed to immediately grow aroused and flustered, unable to tare his gaze from your vulnerable body?  

Eventually he’d managed to, shutting the door behind him and taking a few uneven breaths, trying desperately to not replay the image of your breast over and over in his mind. It’s no use, however, and as he splashes his face with cold water in the bathroom, that’s when his eyes land on the conditioner bottle. 

His hand moves fast as he fucks his fist, hissing under his breath over and over as he steadily gets closer, driven forward by the idea of lewd it will be to have his cum in something as personal as you conditioner. 

He can’t stop thinking about how you’d have no idea, waltzing around with his cum soaked into your pretty hair, maybe even making you smell like him - He’s groaning, the thoughts pushing him closer and closer to the edge, his orgasm hurtling forward as he imagines the way you’d lather it in your hands, humming and making sure every square inch of your hair is covered in it, covered in him. 

He imagines the way you’d bring it up to your nose and deeply inhale, sighing because it’s your favorite scent, wondering why it smells a bit more musky than you remember, but not minding. Maybe you’d even like the new scent, and just the thought of that is enough to push him over the edge, a sharp growl slipping past his lips as he aims his cock right into the bottle, cum spraying all over the conditioner, the white colors matching perfectly. 

He’s breathing hard, a seemingly never ending series of spurts coming from his swollen tip, and once he thinks he’s done, he grasping his length and lightly shaking it, lodging any loose bits of cum out, coaxing them to join the pile. Once done, he’ll gulp, letting a small smirk slip onto his lips as he closes the bottle, shutting the lid tight and shake the bottle, making sure to thoroughly mix it. 

He won’t tell you about his little ‘gift’, of course not - but you’ll know something is up when he’s standing stiff as you exit the bathroom, towel wrapped around your body and wet hair having been marinating in the special mixture he made for you, and when he’s eagerly sniffing your head every chance he gets after that, you’ll have to realize something is amiss. 

When he’s asking you if your hair feels particularly soft, you’ll have to know he’s trying to get at something, some layer underneath the surface that he’s really speaking about. 

It’s enough to satisfy him for the time being, his possessiveness over you quelling ever so slightly because even though it’s not in your cunt, where it belongs, at least he’s got his cum somewhere on you - and until he’s ready to fuck you properly, that’ll have to do. It’ll become habit, and one day you may even stumble upon him midway through the process, your conditioner bottle an inch or so from his tip as he frantically tugs and pulls. 

(He’ll freeze, unable to process that he got caught, and frankly, he’ll just try to ignore that you ever saw it, not willing to broach the topic - and you won’t be either, because what the fuck?)He just really, really desires you, and Feitan is a resourceful man - so I hope you like the smell of musk and a bit of iron, because you’ll be smelling like it for weeks.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Orgasm Control

In general, Feitan has to be in control in the bedroom. It’s not that he’s particularly onto any dominant or submissive roles between the sheets, but more because he doesn’t like the feeling of vulnerability that accompanies letting other people pleasure him. Something about being at the mercy of someone else’s touch or whims makes him nervous, an unpleasant feeling blooming in his stomach that leaves him fidgety and jumpy. 

And so, every sexual interaction with you will see him starring as the dominant role, always calling the shots, and nothing exemplifies this sentiment quite like the way he treats your orgasms. Despite not having a huge amount of sexual experience prior to his infatuation with you, he’s very obviously aware that both partners are capable of orgasming in any given sexual interaction, that it should be expected and achieved regardless of methodology.��

With other women, Feitan wouldn’t care in the least – he’s selfish by nature, and if he were to ever have sex with anyone other than you, in no way, shape or form would he pay any mind to their pleasure, only chasing after his own release. 

But with you, this sentiment is a bit different; he wants to get you off, if only because seeing the way your body responds to him, shaking and shivering and moaning and clenching, gets him harder, his breath more ragged, his palms sweatier. There’s something incredibly pleasing about seeing the way your body is sensitive to his every touch that makes him giddy, an odd mixture of power, arousal and eagerness filling him. 

He wants to make you a mess, to get you gushing and creaming and whimpering as he fingers you, as he shoves his cock inside you, even as he tongues at your clit (eating you out isn’t something that happens often, but when it does, Feitan expects you to come from it). He likes the sight of you falling apart for him, and consequently, that desperation for power and control comes hurtling back – so that he is the one in control of your orgasms. 

He wants to be the one choosing when, how, and why you’re coming, every one of your movements a result of him. 

He tends to rely heavily on edging you, enjoying the way you squirm and beg for him to keep going. He’ll have two slender, nimble fingers buried inside of you, curling and scissoring, the stretch a bit painful but in a pleasure-tinged way, making your toes curl and your bottom lip catch between your teeth. 

His thumb will rub consistent, steady circles at your clit, the little nub sore and swollen, and he’ll keep his ministrations up until you’re breathing heavier, your stomach and thighs clenching, the telltale signs that you’re nearing your high. 

(He’s very, very good at reading your body when it comes to your sexual pleasure – he’s spent so long stalking you that he’s seen you touching yourself more times than he can count, and while watching the way your cunt takes the toy is very, very difficult to tear his eyes away from, he’d made sure to study every other part of your body, too. He’s watched the way your face morphs as you get closer, your brows shooting up and your lips parting a bit, your eyes fluttering and threatening to close as the pleasurable knot in your gut grows tighter and tighter and tighter. He’s watched the way your legs shake, the muscles in your thighs visibly twitching and clenching, trying desperately to close and clench together, prompting him to imagine how they’d feel around his head, around his waist, around his cock. He’s even noticed your breathing, how you sound, the way your voice gets higher and more breathy, your moans increasing in intensity until you let out this sudden, strained gasp that gets him swallowing harshly, a thick pearl of precum dripping from his tip from the mere sound.)

He’s constantly observing you even while he's intimate with you, those dark eyes never wavering from your form, and he’ll bring you right to the edge, noticing with a tightness in his throat that your legs are starting to tremble, that your voice is climbing up, that you’re starting to get all gaspy and your abdominal muscles are clenching, and god, you’re squeezing around his fingers so damn tight – 

The confused, desperate whine you let out when he suddenly pulls his fingers out of you makes him smirk a bit, the way your watery eyes blearily blink up at him, half clouded in lust and disappointment making him reach out to pinch at your pebbled nipple. Not yet, one more time. He’ll tell you, laughing a bit as you whine and gulp, chest heaving and your fingers twitching. He’ll make you wait, maybe even reaching down and jerking himself off a bit, making a show of hissing under his breath and making sure that you can see him, hearing the wet noises as he flicks his wrist and imagines it’s your sweet little pussy wrapped around him rather than his own fingers.

He’s embarrassingly sensitive when he does this, his own touch making him buck his hips as he stares down at you, spread before him, underneath him, where you belong. He’ll make sure to give enough time that you come down from your sensitivity, before resuming his ministrations, making you gasp and bite your lip. 

He’ll keep doing this over and over and over, denying you of your orgasm some five or so times before he finally, finally decides that you’ve behaved well enough, that you deserve to feel good. (Often, what finally gets him to cave in is the fact that he too is very close, and while it’s cliché and stupid and a bit pathetic, he really likes it when you both come at the same time, your orgasms matching up so he can feel like you’re doing it together.) 

He’ll work you through it, not stopping his motions, which brings up another aspect of how Feitan likes to tease you and assert his control over you – he doesn’t like overstimulation quite as much as denial, but he’s not shy about going faster, harder, his motions seeming almost frantic as you start whining and shaking, going on about how it’s too much, Feitan it’s too much I can’t! 

He’ll just growl and shut you down, slapping (not too hard) your clit and seeing you way you jerk, telling you to shut up and take it, you’ve done it before. He likes seeing your eyes get all teary, your body spasming and shaking even harder, the overstimulation making you cry out his name with a renewed fervor. 

(He’d never admit it, but that’s one of his favorite parts – he never pegged himself to be a fan of loud moans, but there’s something about the way that you do it, when it’s his name you’re moaning, that makes him throb, his cock twitching without any stimulation. You sound so destroyed, so wrecked and utterly desperate for him that it makes his head spin, his chest filling with pride and lust and satisfaction because you do need him, and your body is just proving that.) 

He’s cruel, often pulling three or four orgasms from you every time he touches you, those dark eyes staring unblinking down at you, almost studying you as you fall apart on his cock, on his fingers, on anything he chooses. It makes him feel good to know that he’s in full control, that he can choose when you come – it shows his place above you, helping him to justify the fact that he’s pleasuring you, that he’s taking the time and effort to make you feel good when he really doesn’t need to. 

He’s just being generous – you should be grateful he even cares about your pleasure at all. 

(Say thank you to him as you orgasm and he’s gone – cum is dripping down your skin or out of your pretty hole before you can process what’s even happening, the man above you gasping and heaving, trying desperately to make sure you don’t see the slight red staining his cheeks.) 

He wants you to follow his commands, so just let him do as he pleases – you’ll come eventually, most of the time.

Bondage

Tying into his preferences for holding control in the bedroom, Feitan has a certain affinity for seeing you restrained. 

There’s something about the way your body is presented to him when you’re all tied up that gets him feeling hot, his hands twitching and yearning to reach out and touch you. He’s not picky about what he uses to bind you – the tried and true rope is never displeasing, and the variety of pretty knots and positions he can force you into this way leave him nearly drooling at all the different sexual fantasies he can carry out with you. 

He’s particularly fond of tying you up in ways that are just the slightest bit humiliating, positions that make your neck and cheeks feel hot, embarrassment eating away at you because god, everything is exposed. 

He likes when your legs are spread, a bit of rope keeping your calves firmly pressed to your thighs while your pussy is exposed to open air, the perfect amount of space between your legs for him to slip into. He likes when your breasts are free, jiggling and bouncing with every thrust, the rope digging into your sternum or ribcage as you moan and writhe. 

(He also likes when the rope crisscrosses over your chest, digging into your nipple and making you whine in pain and pleasure, and when he undoes the ropes, he loves the way your nipples are so sore and swollen, a much darker color than they normally are and practically begging to be pinched at, to be twisted and pulled on until you’re a sniffly, moaning mess.) 

He’ll often tie your wrists together behind your back, rope connecting from your waist to the back of your knees, keeping your legs bent while he forces your ass into the air, mounting you from behind and absolutely destroying you. 

Rope is his favorite, if only because there’s something so familiar, so comforting in using it – of course, he never desires to fuck any of his victims, but he knows how to manipulate the material in order to get you bent the way he wants you to be. 

And while he has no desire to do anything to you that he would to those he tortures, there’s something oddly sexy and taboo about the fact that he’s using the same kind of rope on you as he did to the man the other day. It’s dirty, sinful, if only because this is as close as he can come to mixing two of the things he loves most – you, and his job. 

You’re safe this way, not liable to be cut or maimed or anything of the sort, but you’re still utterly at his hands, vulnerable to every whim or desire he wishes to enact on you. He likes how helpless you are when you’re tied up, unable to reach out or take control of your own pleasure, entirely reliant on him to do everything for you – something as big as stretching you out on his cock, or as small as pushing away a stray piece of hair in your face as he fucks your throat. 

The power trip is insane, and while he won’t hurt you, just the knowledge that he could makes him harder than he’s ever been. He’s a fan of other alternatives to rope, too – handcuffs are fine, a bit too mainstream for him to use regularly, but in a bind it’ll do. 

(Especially if he’s grown more comfortable with you, willing to show a more vulnerable side, because handcuffs give him less control and allow you to actively participate in your pleasure, letting you grind back against him or wrap your legs around his waist or any number of other things that can signal that you want him too.) 

Silk ties are fine, and on days where he’s feeling a bit more sentimental or emotional, he’ll prefer to use these because there’s less chance of you bruising or getting any burns or rashes. (Plus, there’s something so fitting about you being shrouded in silk – you, who’s so weak and soft and dainty, matching perfectly with the fabric. It makes him snort a bit, because you always look like such an angel when you’re all tied up for him in this way – like a beautiful, naïve little angel just begging to be destroyed and tainted by his hands, a feat he’s more eager and impatient to accomplish than he’d care to admit.) 

He’s even willing to use clothing to get you restricted – maybe the shirt you’d been wearing (his shirt, one he let you borrow, the one he finds adorable on you even if he’d never tell you) will get tied around your wrists, keeping them firmly above your chest as he sinks into you and squeezes his eyes shut, biting back the moan that threatens to tumble at his lips because you’re just so damn tight. 

He’ll use your panties as a gag, though he doesn’t do this often because he really does like hearing your sounds – especially when they’re any sort of praise or his name. 

(Often, after he’s stuffed the panties you’d been wearing past your lips, he’ll steal them back afterwards, sneakily storing them somewhere for later, for late at night when he’s standing over your sleeping form and breathing shakily, staring at you and rubbing the material – wet with both your spit and your slick – all over his cock.) 

His preference is always to have you restrained in some manner, and it’ll only be once he feels as comfortable as possible with you that he won’t tie you up. To have you free means letting himself be vulnerable to your touches, and even your rejection of his touch, and just the thought is enough to get him nervous, having to wipe his slightly sweaty hands onto his jacket. 

He’s had fantasies about fucking you without any restraints separating you before, but the moment it happens, you’ll notice that he’s oddly sensitive, his breath coming out harsher and more labored at touches that would normally leave him largely unaffected. It’s just so emotional for him, so scary and frightening, and he’ll stay inside you much longer than normal after he’s come, relishing in the warmth and wetness of you while your fingers maybe brush over his shoulders, maybe even running through his hair. It’s the sort of fantasy he’ll never, ever tell you about, though – and for now, he’ll stick with tying you up so that you’re easily accessible, provoking and arousing to stare at, and in no position to argue when he manhandles you into doing exactly what he wants.

Dry humping

While he has sexual, lewd thoughts about you from pretty much the moment he truly accepts his feelings for you, Feitan takes a very long time to begin acting on those feelings. 

Even more, it takes him a long time to get comfortable enough to be naked in front of you, much less actually fuck you. And so, while this hesitancy persists, he finds himself using other routes to sate his growing desire to be intimate with you – routes that are less invasive, less opportune for embarrassing accidents (like coming too fast, or facing your rejection). 

And while it still feels awfully pathetic, Feitan finds that the simple act of grinding on you is enough to satisfy his desires, at least for the time being – there’s just something oddly enticing about it, something arousing and the pleasure just dull enough to thwart him from coming within three or four minutes of touching you. 

He doesn’t like initiating it, though, finding it a bit too pathetic, even for him, even for the way he feels for you. Instead, he holds his breath, hoping that every time you brush against him (normally by accident, your whole body freezing up the moment you realize what you’ve done) that you’ll do it again, because even just a single bit of friction between your (fully clothed) bodies is enough to get his neck feeling warm, the ghost of an erection springing to life in his pants. 

He’s just so, so touch starved, and so as time goes on, he’ll start subtly trying to get into positions where you might accidentally grind on him, sometimes without you even realizing. He’ll make you pick something up off the ground, then choose the exact moment that you’re bent over and your ass is in the air to walk behind you, letting his hips just barely graze against you.

He’ll manage to hold back the little strained noise he makes, but at some point you’ll notice that it’s happening much too often to be a coincidence, and you’ll eventually realize that the strange hardness you feel when he does this is actually him. 

He won’t ever just grab you and rut into you, but god does he want to, especially when he sees your hips swaying, or when you’re sitting down, the fat of your thighs splayed out and your hips looking wide and full and perfect to grab onto. 

He’s embarrassed by his own thoughts, but eventually you’ll probably realize what it is that he wants – you’ve felt the way he tries to subtly make it happen, and while you were at first confused and shocked (you’d had no idea Feitan wanted anything sexual with you, as he’d never made a mention of it or acted in a way that would suggest it), you eventually start getting a bit brave, too. 

You don’t love Feitan, far from it, but you’ve been trapped with him for enough months to start craving any form of human contact, and so you’ll pounce – Feitan can’t help but sharply inhale when you grind back against him one day while you’re bent over, the feeling of your ass moving against his cock making him struggle to breath. 

He’s not sure what you’re trying to do, too pessimistic to let himself believe that you’re the one grinding on him, but one day you’ll find yourself sitting next to him on the raggedy old couch, the TV playing some mindless horror movie that Feitan had thrown on, and your hand will just sort of move on its own, slowly, carefully placing itself very lightly over his thigh. He’ll tense up at the sensation, dark eyes flicking between your hand and your face, your own gaze nervously set on the TV in front of you. 

It’s silent for a moment, but when he doesn’t move your hand, you’ll get braver, turning to look at him and asking in a soft, unsure voice if you can sit in his lap. Feitan doesn’t know how to respond, simply staring at you with narrowed eyes, wondering if this is some sort of trick – but eventually he’ll nod, telling you to be careful, don’t try anything. 

You’ll position yourself so that your ass is pressed against his crotch, his thighs on either side of your hips, but you don’t lean back, even when you hear Feitan inhale slightly, having leaned forward to smell your hair. It’s a good twenty or so minutes later when you begin moving your hips slowly, nervously, listening to hear for any displeased noises or harsh commands for you to stop your movements. 

Feitan is frozen behind you, staring at your hips and trying to understand what you’re doing – he likes it, but he doesn’t like the way his body is reacting, blood slowly starting to head south at the slight friction, at the way you’re so damn close to him, at the way he can smell you and can feel the heat radiating off your body. 

It’s all too much, and suddenly he’s telling you to get off me, before quickly storming out of the room and locking himself in his bedroom. 

His cock is in his hand within minutes, memories of how you’d felt against him, even with layers of clothes separating you still fresh in his mind. You’ll be left to believe he didn’t like it, that you’d totally misinterpreted his actions, ashamed and a bit afraid for how he’d respond moving forward. 

Except, there’s no grand punishment, no mocking you for your actions – instead, the next night he turns on a new movie (still horror, gory and full of screaming and killing) and looks over at you expectantly. 

His legs are spread this time, leaving a space between them, and for a moment you’re confused, unsure of what he wants. He just raises a brow at you, unwilling to articulate what he’s wanting, hoping you’ll understand it without him needing to say it. 

You’ll shuffle closer, still staring at him, but soon he’ll just grumble, a hand reaching out and pulling you down to sit between his legs before you can even realize what’s happening. You’re stiff and unsure, unwilling to relax, and Feitan doesn’t like this. He wants you to move like you did last night, and after a few minutes of you sitting stone still, he’ll hiss into your ear do it again. 

You’ll start slow, testing the waters, and you nearly jump when you feel Feitan’s hand ghost over your waist, setting his fingers against your shirt as if wanting to fully touch you, but not quite letting himself. He’ll occasionally tell you to go faster, the movie still playing in the background, the feeling of his cock digging into your tailbone making you a confusing mix of scared and aroused. 

Eventually, he’ll let out this strange, unusual little sound, something like a grunt but much higher and strained, and you’ll feel something warm and wet pressing against you. Don’t mention anything, because Feitan doesn’t want you to say a damn word, not wanting to admit that the feeling of you grinding on him for roughly seven minutes has him coming in his pants, cum covering his cock and getting him all sticky. 

He’s embarrassed, but it will become something of a ritual between the two of you – every time he turns on a movie, it’s your place to sit in his lap (eventually you actually will sit in his lap, fully on his lap, not just pressed against him, though this takes some time) and to gyrate your hips at that certain rhythm he likes, all up until you feel him tense up beneath you, seeing his fingers clutching at the couch cushions at your sides. 

It’s a slow buildup into any sort of sexual activity between the two of you, but Feitan likes this, something about the intimacy making him extra sensitive, the feeling of you actually touching him (even peripherally, with clothes separating the two of you) making him feel lightheaded and airy. He likes it, and this will be the jumping off point for him to begin getting bolder, to begin letting himself actually fuck you, to finally do what he’s been craving for months. 

And once you become aware that he likes it, please start imitating it – give him look and ask if you can um, sit in your lap? 

He’ll almost always say yes, even if he’s in the middle of doing something, even if there’s not even a chair or couch nearby – he'll rush (not running, but very, very nearly) to the nearest surface, swallowing hard and staring at you, growing impatient when you don’t move fast enough for him. 

Often, he’ll already be half hard, and while he prefers when your back is facing him, if you were to climb into his lap so that you were straddling him? Well, Feitan finds it much harder to look you in the eye, because now it’s your cunt grinding down on him rather than just your ass, and that’s much different, isn’t it? 

Even once he’s progressed to stage of actually being willing to touch you, of being willing to let you touch him, Feitan still enjoys when you hump at him. And he particularly enjoys humping you, though he’s only willing to do this in the dead of night, when you’re fast asleep, your body ripe and vulnerable for him to touch, to explore, to use. 

He doesn’t want you to be awake and see the way he crumbles when he drags his cock along the curve of your ass, if only because he doesn’t want you to see how pink his cheeks get, how he starts mumbling under his breath, how his every muscle is flexing and straining because he wants to go faster, needs to go faster, but he can’t risk waking you up. 

It’s his dirty little secret, so you’d better start working on your stamina for grinding onto him – sure, he doesn’t last long, but he expects it often, and you can’t exactly refuse him. 

Or else.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Begging

Feitan likes knowing that you want him. He feels so inferior and weak for having developed such strong, scarily dependent feelings for you, and it makes him feel good, satisfied, justified when you beg for him, all whiny and desperate for his touch, for his body, for his cock. 

While he’s not particularly vocal between the sheets, he likes when you are - your voice is sultry when it gets all airy and gaspy, your little praises and pleas for him to go faster or please don’t stop making him double down and go harder, his desperation to please you driving him forward. 

He won’t ever explicitly ask you to beg for anything, but you’ll be able to tell that he likes it. 

You’ll see the way his eyes widen just a hair, the way his dark bangs settle over his forehead as he dips his head down, the exertion of moving his hips or wrist faster making him squeeze his eyes shut. 

You’ll feel the way his thrusts get more insistent, hips slapping against yours while his balls clap against your ass, the sound lewd and only getting faster the more you beg. 

You’ll be able to hear it in the way his breathing starts getting ragged, no amount of stamina adequate for hearing you beg for him, for him to touch you and pleasure you. 

He wants to feel needed in the context of your sexual pleasure, as if you can’t get off without his help, as if you’re incapable of bringing yourself to orgasm when he so easily manages it. It’s unrealistic and he knows it, but he’s able to immerse himself in the fantasy of you wanting him when you’re begging him, able to delude himself into believing, if only for a bit, that you’re just as frantic for his love and affection as he is yours. 

If you really want to get him going, a surefire way to have his cock springing to life and his heart lurching into his throat is to praise him a bit, then following it up with a plea for him to keep going. Tell him that it’s s’good, you feel so good Feitan, please don’t stop, just like that, fuck! 

Tell him that you belong to him, that you’re his, that your cunt is his cunt, that you want him to come inside, that you need more more more. He might tell you that you’re greedy, grunting out something about you being a greedy slut, but the twitching of his cock inside you and the way his fingers tighten their hold on you will show you that he isn’t as unaffected by your words as he’d like to pretend. 

He really just likes knowing that sex affects you just as much as it affects him, so please, please beg him - he’ll almost always do exactly what you want, almost like it’s a reward.

(After all, just getting to touch you is reward enough for him.)

Sensory deprivation

Because it takes Feitan so long to grow comfortable with letting himself be truly vulnerable with you (especially in the context of sex), he finds ways to get around this mental roadblock, so that he can experience everything he wants to without giving up any of his control. 

And one of his favorite ways to do that is to limit your senses - specifically, Feitan loves to blindfold you. He doesn’t really want you to be looking at him during sex, too nervous and awkward and embarrassed, because once he gets inside you, his control over his facial expressions, his bodily responses, his everything is severely limited. 

It takes all his will power to stop himself from coming prematurely, especially towards the beginning of his sexual relationship with you, and he’ll be damned if he lets you see the way his face crumples when he slips inside your wet heat, his dark brows drawing together and lips parting, eyes squeezing shut while he wills himself to calm down, to take deep breaths and not let himself get carried away. 

He doesn’t want you to be able to look at him, but he wants to be able to see you - he wants full viewing pleasure of your body, and while this method does block seeing your eyes get all glassy and pleasured, it’s better this way. 

This way, he gets to stare at the way your tits bounce as he fucks you, the soft fat jiggling and practically begging to be groped and squeezed at. 

This way, he can stare at your ass he pounds into it, grabbing a handful of cheek in each hand and kneading the fat, spreading them apart and taking a peek at your pert, cute little asshole, seeing the curve and arch of your back. 

He can let himself relax more this way, allowing his face to present every emotions and sensation he’s feeling, and he can let himself indulge in some of his more embarrassing urges - like reaching out to cup your hips when your bodies are facing each other, his fingers never quite brushing your skin but awfully close. 

He’ll lean in close as if to kiss you, letting his breath fan over your lips but never actually closing the distance, just indulging in the smell of you and the idea of kissing you. He’s still very reserved, but this way he can do all the things he fantasizes about when he’s alone at night, his mind wandering to you and his body growing cold and lonely. 

Plus, Feitan gains a certain amount of control this way - he gets to choose what happens to you, and because you can’t see anything, you’ll have no idea what’s coming next. 

Will it be his hands, a vibrator, his cock? 

You won’t know, and Feitan likes it that way - he wants to keep you guessing, to leave you unsure and awaiting his next move with baited breath. 

He just likes how dependent you are when he’s got the black blindfold tied around your eyes, so you’d better get used to it - he’s not good at compromising, after all. 

BIGGEST FANTASY:

While Feitan doesn’t harbor any desire to hurt you, there’s a certain allure that blood holds for him. 

Of course, he doesn’t want to actually draw blood from you (the thought of you being in pain because of him makes any boner of his die immediately), but he discovers - by accident - that there’s a solution to mixing the two. 

There’s a way to combine the two things that turn him on most - you, of course, and the slightest bit of blood - in a way that is safe for you yet still arousing, still enough to get him panting and his trousers feeling uncomfortably tight. 

That is, Feitan discovers that he absolutely loves getting intimate with you while you’re on your period. It doesn’t matter if you get horrible cramps, mood swings, or are even totally unaffected - you’re sensitive, body needy and practically begging to be mounted and fucked, and who is Feitan to deny you?

Once he grows comfortable with intimacy, you’ll never be able to pull him away from you once the blood shows up in your panties. He’s obsessive, tracking your period for you, making sure that he knows the exact days that you’ll be starting and stopping. 

He likes the way you respond to his touch so easily, your pretty pussy all messy and red and puffy, even the slightest touch making you buck your hips and gasp his name. 

It’s euphoric, and when he slips inside you it becomes incredibly difficult to not immediately orgasm - you’re just so wet, so warm and wonderfully lubricated, and the sight of blood staining his cock when he pulls back to thrust back in makes his head spin. 

You’re perfect when you’re menstruating, and you’ll notice he’ll be in a much better mood once you shyly report that it started, could you pick up some more pads for me? (He toys with the idea of actually collecting your blood, investing in one of those menstrual cups that you can remove once it’s full, just because the concept of drinking it is enough to make him fidget, the thought taboo and dirty and so very enticing.) 

You can’t really say no to him normally, but you especially can’t deny him when it’s your time of the month - you will be getting fingered, fucked, even facefucked, if only because Feitan needs you, your pretty blood and pretty body making him go crazy in a way he didn’t think possible. 

You make him go crazy in ways he didn’t think possible.

“Feitan, I - we can’t, not tonight.” You tell him, averting your gaze away from his as his hands grab at the old t-shirt and short you’re wearing. Unconsciously, your hand travels to your stomach, laying idly and making Feitan’s eyes narrow. 

“Why not?” He asks, his voice clipped and suspicious. You didn’t often tell him no, and although there’s a bit of doubt swimming in his chest, he wants to know why you’re suddenly not welcoming his touch. You’ve reached the point of leaning into his cold, harsh hands, so why’re you suddenly being so standoffish? He doesn’t like it, and his hands stay idly resting on your shirt hem. 

You’re embarrassed, he can tell, but he doesn’t drop the issue. Instead, he lets the silence sit heavily over the two of you, waiting for you to fill in the space. 

“Well, um, you see…” You start, before squeezing your eyes shut and squeaking out, “My period started yesterday and it’s too messy.”

Feitan blinks at you, unsure what to say. Your period? You were bleeding?

“Okay, and?” 

Your eyes peel open, daring to sneak a glance at your captor, who only stares at you, unimpressed. “Well, I mean, it’s going to be messy and gross and it probably smells bad and -”

“Shut up, we’re doing it.” He cuts you off, hand yanking at your shirt to bring it over your head. You grimace, already nervous for him to take off your shorts, because although you’re sure he knows what a period is, you’re sure he’s never actually been around a woman menstruating. Or at least, not sexually. 

Actually, you’re pretty sure he’s never been with a woman sexually in any capacity. 

He’s yanking at your shorts next, pulling down the material even as you voice your protests, but one scowl from him has you shutting up, embarrassment pricking up your spine as he grabs your thighs and manually spreads them, the scratchy blanket covering the bed biting into your ass. 

He’s staring, dark eyes a bit wider than normal, and you feel yourself shrinking in on yourself, the embarrassment eating you alive. Why was he staring? Why wasn’t he doing anything? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“Feitan..?” You mumble, biting your lip and letting your arms cover your bloated stomach. He doesn’t respond, but you feel his grip on your thighs tighten, to the point where you think you might see bruises tomorrow. 

His eyes slowly, painstakingly, drag up from your exposed cunt to meet your face, and to your surprise you see the slightest dusting of a blush on his cheeks, as if he too was embarrassed. But before you can say anything, he’s rushing forward, lips pressing against yours in a messy, clumsy kiss, full of teeth knocking against teeth and too much spit. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him, but just as soon as he rushed in he’s pulling back, instead moving to bring his face level with your leaking hole. 

Feitan can’t stop staring - there’s blood everywhere, and while he’d normally be thrown into a state of panic at seeing so much of your own blood staining your skin, somehow this is different. Somehow the sight of it staining your pussy, the red color all along your inner thighs and part of your asscheek making his mouth water, his cock already painfully hard. It’s so pretty - red against your skin, your lips visibly swollen, your little clit engorged and peaking out. You look good, like something he wants to taste, and before he knows what’s happening he’s diving forward, tongue licking a long stripe up your slit. 

You taste like iron and musk and something oddly sweet, and immediately he’s diving in to taste more, tongue lapping at you like some dog in heat as he keeps his fingers firmly digging into your thighs. He can barely hear your sound of shock at his actions, too overwhelmed by your taste and your scent. 

“F-feitan, stop!” You manage to force out, eyes squeezed shut as your hips shake and stutter. “It’s too much, I’m too sensitive, I can’t!”

Feitan stops at that, pulling away from your body with blood smeared all over his lips, chin and nose, staring at you with a look in those wide, dark eyes that makes you shiver. He looks like an animal like this, something primal and carnal - and when your eyes peek down to see his cock - throbbing, bright red and stiff against his stomach - you can’t help but feel as if you’re some sort of prey caught in his jaws. 

“Not too much, you will survive.” Is all he says, before he’s resuming his actions, bringing a finger up to prod inside your walls while his tongue gets to work on your clit. His fingers curl and rub, but you’re so damn tight, your walls impossibly clenched, and it makes Feitan grunt against you. You’re even wetter inside than normal, the blood practically running down his hands in copious amounts, making it remarkably easy to slide his fingers in and out. Almost too easy, it would seem. 

You’re blabbering his name, the stimulation hurtling you towards your orgasm much quicker than normal, your heightened sensitivity and emotions turning you into a moaning, whimpering mess. And Feitan loves it - those dark eyes are peering up at you from over the crest of your pelvic bone, blood tinging his cheeks and visible to you. 

When he angles his fingers to press against the spongey, sensitive spot he knows you love, you suddenly gasp, a hand flying to tangle into his hair, the other gently pinching and rolling at your nipple. 

“Feitan, oh fuck Feitan ‘m gonna, I’m gonna come-!” You’re squealing, something that makes Feitan cock a brow, the pure desperation in your body as you squirm under his touch making him feral, his hips beginning to rut against the bed before he can even think about it. You just look so sexy like this, with your nipples swollen and sensitive, your cunt all warm and wet and sweet, and he’ll watch with wide eyes as you orgasm around him, your walls clenching down so hard that they force his fingers out, his tongue and the circles he’s drawing on your clit the only thing grounding you. Your back arches fully up off the bed, tits thrust out into the air, and Feitan bites back a groan as his own pleasure hits a peak, the blanket ruined as cum oozes from his tip and seeps into the fabric. 

You’re shaking, literally fucking shaking, and Feitan finds himself trembling too, his hands not as steady against your skin. If he’d known you would taste like this, how sensitive you’d be, how easy it is to get you orgasming while on your period, he would’ve done this long ago. 

You’re out of it, blinking up at the ceiling and heaving uneven breaths, but even as sensitive as he is from his last orgasm, Feitan is quickly shuffling to his knees, grabbing the base of his cock and sinking into you, face contorting into something between a grimace and a gasp. You’re so damn warm, and he groans lowly as he sees the way his cock has pink slick all over it when he pulls back, a mix of your blood, your slick and his cum decorating his length. 

Fucking you is heaven, the way you clutch at him and writhe, nearly screaming his name as you come on his cock, and Feitan can only grit his teeth and go harder, spurred on by the way your walls are caressing his length, massaging and gripping like a fucking vice. 

It feels good, and by the time he’s emptied himself inside you, he’s already made a mental note to mark down when your next period will be - just so he can get ready, so that he can get prepared. So that he can prepare you, too, because you won’t simply be allowed rest after the first night. 

God no, not if you’re like this the whole time.

[kiame-sama]

Donut Rings- (Yandere!Chrollo x Chubby!Reader)

Warnings; this whole thing is almost entirely self serving, fem reader, short and busty reader, chubby reader, general perversion, cursing, adult themes, adult conversation, jealousy, possessive behavior, yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, mention of aggressive behavior, unwanted flirting, slight objectification,

~~~~~~~~

"Can't fuckin' believe it..."

A long and frustrated sigh left the lips of the blond man standing with his arms crossed. The blue and green jumpsuit he wore seeming over the top given that he was not going jogging, but at an airport. He had an obvious scowl on his lips and certainly seemed less than pleased with the situation he found himself in.

"What has you so displeased, Phinks?"

A man with black hair in a fur lined coat glanced curiously at his compatriot, a single delicate brow raised in question. The two belonged to the larger group that seemed rather disjointed together despite being together. Twelve in total stood together as others ambled past them towards whatever gate would get them to their flight.

"You should have seen it, Boss, Phinks got flat out rejected by some chick."

The largest of the group- both height and muscle mass- snorted out a loud laugh that earned more than a few glances. His wild gray tinted hair made him appear to be almost feral in how he grinned in amusement at the dejection of his comrade. One may compare the large man to that of a bear or a wolf given the wide grin and decidedly feral appearance.

Phinks sighed loudly again as he pouted, clearly unhappy with his rejection and the teasing he received

"Not just some chick, she's the short one with the huge fucking tits at the donut place!"

He cupped his hand beneath his chest to emphasize his point and phantom-mime the size of the breasts in question. Even with the nonexistent chest he 'held' in his hands, he seemed to be yearning to touch the real breasts he was talking about. Hands slowly moving as if stroking the air where the soft globes would be.

"What do her tits have to do with anything?"

One of the smaller members of the group- a woman with bright pink hair and moderately sized breasts- frowned in the general direction of Phinks. She seemed less than pleased with the way the man was talking about the apparent attributes and almost seemed tempted to smack his cupped hands. Out of the group, the pink-haired woman had the smaller sized breasts compared to the other women present.

"You wouldn't get it, Machi," Phinks complained, dismissively waving his hand, "it's a guy thing. If you can get a big tiddy bitch to ride you, it's so fun to watch them bounce. Plus, probably the best thing to fuck other than pussy. So soft, like humping two giant marshmallows."

Phinks moved his hands to mimic holding two breasts at crotch level and thrusting his hips into them to show just what he was talking about. It wasn't as if any of the group were clueless to the intimate actions he spoke of, but he was content to show the action all the same.

The twelve stood near a donut shop inside of the airport, a constant stream of people entering and exiting the line with various baked confections. There was an apparent sweet scent wafting through the air around the bakery as more of the goods were baked and decorated. For every tray of decorated donuts, two trays seemed to be emptied every ten minutes.

Machi glanced up at the window that showed where the employees were decorating the donuts and putting the rich icing onto them. Behind the glass stood the woman in question as she worked to put the sugary icing onto the warm baked rings. She seemed oblivious to the group that stood casually discussing her and watching her work, though a slight glare took over her relaxed visage as Phinks thrust his hips provocatively.

"Is that the one who rejected you?"

Chrollo asked, gesturing to the woman behind the glass as she lifted the tray of donuts and walked away to place them out for sale. Phinks nodded with a solemn look, as if lamenting the fact that the woman was clearly less than pleased with his presence when she wasn't ignoring him.

"Yeah. I was even trying to put on the works for her, you know? Sweet talk her a bit, make a joke or two. But she couldn't even give a fella the time of day!"

"Good."

This caused a surprised laugh from several in the group as Phinks stared at Chrollo incredulously. If he didn't know any better, he would say Chrollo was intentionally being cruel for the sake of being cruel.

"Damn, Boss, that's cold!"

Chrollo shrugged in response to the amused and surprised remark by the feral man that gleefully teased Phinks. It seemed as if the raven haired man was not at all perturbed by the surprised words, glancing back at the window as the woman returned. She still ignored thr group and began decorating the next set of rings without glancing up at the onlookers.

"Spider or not, I don't feel particularly fond of others flirting with my girlfriend."

This made all of the color drain from Phinks' face as he took in Chrollo's casually stated words. If there was one thing that none of the group wanted to do, it was anger their beloved leader. Flirting with Chrollo's significant other certainly seemed like a surefire way to anger him.

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait, she's your-? Forget everything I said about her nice juicy tits! And what I said about humping them-! I mean- fuck!"

"Phinks, I think you should probably just be quiet."

The other blonde in the group laughed at the flustered reaction and stuttered words Phinks hastily choked out. Shalnark was as amused as ever with the quick way the other blonde attempted to retract his statement now that he knew he was talking about Chrollo's girlfriend. If Chrollo were quick to anger, Phinks would have been struck down for his words about the woman who still had yet to look back at them.

"Idiot."

One of the short men with black hair scoffed at the foolish behavior of Phinks, not needing to put effort into a greater response than the slight jab. It was frowned upon for the group members to try and start fights with the others and trying to take a significant other was sure to cause a fight. Luckily for Phinks, Chrollo was not witness to the brazen flirting.

"Didn't know you had a girlfriend, Boss."

The blonde female stated with a relaxed tone, masking the clear curiosity in her voice. Chrollo did not seem like one to keep a consistent partner as he often used sex to extract information from others. Regardless, no one in the group was about to question their beloved leader beyond simple comments and inquiries.

"I do. (Y/n) is not a plaything or a target to be hassled, nor should she know of our exploits. She is far too innocent for that and may try to flee if she realizes the full breadth of our actions. So, until I choose to enlighten her, no one is to mention what we do or where we come from, understood?"

The others were quick to agree to the unofficial order of silence, now more curious than ever to figure out just what about this woman managed to entrance their blood-thirsty leader. For the time being they decided to keep quiet and observe as the woman emerged from the donut shop, seeming rather tired and uncomfortable on her feet. Chrollo was quick to leave the group and approach (y/n) with an affectionate smile, surprising the shorter woman as if she had not expected his presence.

"Chrollo? What are you doing here?"

"Do I need a reason to visit my lover?"

"Only when I'm working. How did you get past security? They're usually pretty strict about letting anyone who isn't traveling or doesn't work here past the entrance."

"I have my ways."

"Right," she let out a short huff of amusement, "next you're going to tell me you have diplomatic immunity."

Chrollo chuckled softly, wondering just how his cute little darling would react to knowing even half of the truth about him and the things he's done. With everything he had done there was no way that he would be allowed into the airport legally. Of course, for those who knew his sordid past, seeing him casually flirt with the short, large-breasted woman was an unusual experience. One that Phinks couldn't help but pout at.

"No fair, why does he always get the hot ones?"

"I'm telling Boss you're talking about his girl again."

"Oh, fuck off!"

[bleach-your-panties]

⇰INTRODUCING, AN OFFICIAL BYP🌹🌸 COLLABORATION EVENT...

...."BLONDES HAVE MORE FUN!"❀

⋱♡full collab info post ⇰here!

Deadline: MAY 31, 2024 (not a hard deadline!)

🎀Posts🎀:

♥︎Tokyo Revengers:

Chifuyu Matsuno @bleach-your-panties

Ken Ryuguji "Draken" @sin-and-punishment

🎀nsfw, smut |🎀fem reader

Shion Madarame @sin-and-punishment

🎀nsfw, smut | 🎀fem reader

Jeez Louise - Ken Ryuguji "Draken" x Emma Sano, Manjiro Sano "Mikey" x Reader (group sex) @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw, smut |🎀fem reader |🎀foursome |🎀fxf action

Takuya Yamamoto @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀fem reader

Tetta Kisaki @bleach-your-panties

Rindou Haitani @prncessrindou

Ran Haitani @ksakiswh0re-xo

Wakasa Imaushi @ranspuppy

🎀rating tbd

✿Bleach:

Izuru Kira @bleach-your-panties

🎀nsfw, smut | 🎀fem reader

Rose Otoribashi @semisgroupie

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd

Shinji Hirako @seireiteihellbutterfly

🎀nsfw | 🎀thick, fem reader

♥︎Hunter x Hunter:

Kurapika Kurta @bleach-your-panties

Shalnark @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀fem reader

Phinks @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀fem reader

Pakunoda @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀fem reader

✿Jujutsu Kaisen:

Kento Nanami x2 @ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater

Hell Hath No Fury - Kento Nanami @seireiteihellbutterfly

🎀nsfw | 🎀thick fem reader

Rosé and Bubble Gum - Yuuji Itadori @bleach-your-panties

🎀suggestive | 🎀fem reader | 🎀black-coded

Yuuji Itadori - @bleach-your-panties

♥︎Genshin Impact:

Thoma @ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater

Albedo @ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater

✿Attack on Titan:

Armin Arlert @stopisa

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd

Friends with Benefits - Reiner Braun @/shujistars-archived

🎀nsfw, smut | fem reader

Armin Arlert @sunarc

🎀nsfw | 🎀 more tbd

♥︎My Hero Academia:

Katsuki Bakugo @bakugosbratx

🎀nsfw| 🎀dark content

Mirio Togata @bleach-your-panties

✿Blue Lock:

Ryosuke Kira @bleach-your-panties

Ryusei Shidou @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd |🎀fem reader

♥︎Haikyuu!!:

Kei Tsukishima @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd | 🎀fem reader

Kenma Kozume @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw | 🎀more tbd | 🎀fem reader

Kentarou Kyoutani @ranspuppy

🎀nsfw |🎀fem reader

✿Fairy Tail:

Laxus Dreyar @bleachbrainrotbro

🎀sfw |🎀male reader

♥︎One Piece:

Sanji Vinsmoke @chrollohearttags

✿Death Note:

Mihael Keehl "Mello" @bleach-your-panties

[lightfeltmemories]

18+, minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni, fem black reader in mind. my first post in this format please don't kill me if someone feels ooc.

he knew you were a baddie before your relationship with him, so, he doesn't police you on what you wear, in fact, he loves your outfits, and if anything, buys (or steals) anything you desire to keep you high maintenance, when walking down the street, he loves the thought of other men feeling envious because he managed to pull such a gem, your hand in his, you both walk down the street, the way your ass jiggles with every step in your short shorts, the way your tits bounce in the tight fitting tank top, the way your makeup is always flawless and glowing in the sunlight, the way your hair and nails are always done, the way you always smell good as fuck, he loves every aspect of you, and knew exactly what he was getting into when he pursued you, because at the end of the day, he's the one thrusting his fat cock deep inside you every night, his name is the one escaping your lips as he pounds into you, moaning and screaming for more, he's the one you chose to lay next to after it's all said and done.

jjk: satoru gojo, choso, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, shiu kong, naruto: naruto uzumaki, kisame hoshigaki, hidan, kakashi hatake, might guy, deidara hashirama senju, jiraya demon slayer: kyojuro rengoku, tengen uzui, douma, giyu tomioka, iguro obanai hunter x hunter: leorio paladiknight, uvogin, nobunaga hazama, shalnark ryusei, phinks magub, hisoka morrow, feitan portor one piece: monkey d. luffy, rorona zoro, vinsmoke sanji, usopp, brook, portgas d. ace, eustass kid, donquixote doflamingo,

anyone i didn't add, this can also apply if you want it to but these were the characters that came to mind for me :)

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

How do they confess to fem reader

Fluff

Fir chrollo and Feitan (seperately ) plz

Of course 💕

Chrollo x gn!reader (200+ words), Feitan x gn!reader (500+ words)

Navi.

Warnings: mention of murder and torture in feitan´s part bc he´s feitan, reader bakes and cooks in feitan's part, Fei likens the reader to a bunny

The night was cool, though the sky was already clearer, signifying the coming of spring. He had picked you up in a sleek black car, waiting for you leaned against the door, dressed in a tuxedo. He drew you towards him by the waist, smiling lips finding your temple in a soft kiss before he opened the door for you and let you in.

It was quite the sensual night, air buzzing between you both. While you waited for the food, he sat leaned forward, gently holding your hands in his over the table. His thumb brushed over your skin as his eyes were fixated on you and only you.

The entire night his eyes never left yours for more than a moment, always finding them again after a quick glance at the waiter or your lips. His hands always sought yours out, and when you were eating, they were itching to feel your skin underneath them again.

He would soon enough, however. Under the starlit sky then, standing before the door to your home, he held your cheek and tilted your face up for the moon to illuminate. You were for his eyes only, your body only for his fingertips to caress. Your lips only for his lips to part.

You assume he had finally gotten used to you. After many months of being part of the Phantom Troupe - friends with the Phantom Troupe - he actually acknowledged you when you entered a room, shared a meaningful look with you when Phinks yet again made a fool of himself and once he even tried food that you had made.

He liked you, that much was clear even to you. He trusted you as much as he trusted the founding members, and he seemed to worry for you - in his own twisted way. When you got injured trying to capture someone, he would be far crueller than usual as he interrogated them.

It was Chrollo who called you to his side with a smile. Unlike Phinks and Nobunaga he had stayed quiet, not mentioning the obvious change in Feitan´s behaviour - let alone teasing him. You sometimes wondered, if the other two had a death wish making these kinds of innuendos towards Feitan.

Your face was still heated from their teasing when you followed Chrollo. Behind you, you could hear laughter turn into terrified screams as Phinks tried to flee his friend´s wrath. As the door closed, for a moment, you could feel a cold stare sending shivers down your back.

Chrollo - albeit often shockingly emotionally destitute - was very good at reading people. While understanding them seemed to be quite difficult for him at times, in this case, his taste in literature must have come in handy.

"You are incredibly lucky to have gotten on Feitan´s good side so quickly. I even doubt he´d eat food I made for him."

"To be fair I don´t think-" you broke down with a light giggle at the little scowl he sent you. Chrollo shook his head, before his expression turned serious.

"Most importantly, I want to let you know that from here on out a single misstep can signify your or another person´s death. If you are hurt - by anyone and in any way - they will die. Choose your words carefully or the Phantom Troupe or even your loved ones may not live to see another day." You tensed. "That is the love of Feitan. Fiercely loyal, but terrible. One misstep and you are dead. Remember that before you make any decision concerning him and you."

You nodded.

"Thank you, Chrollo."

He only hummed as you left.

Feitan awaited you as a shadow lurking before your room.

"What Boss say?"

You opened your mouth, but unsure what to say, you closed it again. Feitan laid his head to the side, before kicking himself off the wall and gesturing for you to open your door. Inside, he sauntered to the couch and reached out for a box of self-made cookies. When you still didn´t answer, he looked back at you, eyebrows raised.

"What? Cat bit your tongue?" his sharp teeth glimmered in the light.

"He simply told me that as a Phantom Troupe member, I should mind my actions."

Feitan frowned.

"That clear, no?"

"Well...more so because he said I am on your...good side?"

Feitan clicked his tongue.

"Like Phinks, so childish." He bared his teeth for a second before his eyes found yours. His gaze was calculating, as if trying to read you. Then, a smile broke out on his face.

"And what if true, hm?"

"Ah-" your eyes widened, and you fiddled with your fingers. Feitan laughed at that.

"So nervous. Like a bunny in cage," he hummed. "True. I like you. Question is: do you?"

You were unsure what to feel under that piercing gaze.

[heavenlyakin]

Mine

Phinks x Fem!Reader

--

wc: 3.7k

Warnings: fem reader, fingering, vaginal sex, protected sex, violence in a scene (not against reader), and yandere themes. You can always message me to add more warnings!

This was a commission so some aspects were made to fit the commissioner. If you're interested in commissioning me, just shoot me a message!

--

A faint flame from a cigarette lighter catches your eye from across the alley. Shifting your gaze up from your phone you see the man who lit a fresh one. The smell of smoke tingles your nose, and you inhale deeply. It’s been a while since you’ve had one; in fact, it might have been around this time last year when your best friend stole a pack from her shitty ex before moving across the country.

You’re not sure what it is: the man with the cigarette or the smell of it. Whichever, they have your attention now. He towers over you, crouched down on a milk crate during your break from the restaurant you’ve been at for the last year. His face isn’t particularly friendly, actually, he has a rather scary look graced upon his face. His frown would scare most people away, but you’re too busy looking at his dark eyes and blonde hair to really give yourself a chance to feel anything.

“What are you looking at?” He asks, aggression clear in his tone.

“You, obviously,” you shoot back. Today has been rough enough with rude customers, a shitty manager, and two of the kitchen staff walking out. “Why are you even in this alleyway? You don’t work here.”

He blows smoke out, a cloud covering his face. You suppose that’s the only answer you’re going to get. He finishes another long drag then tosses the burnt-out cigarette to the ground, smashing it into the concrete with the toe of his black shoes.

“Whatever dude, just don’t hang out here too long. My boss comes out here and shoos people away with brooms if they’re not supposed to be here.” You stand up, dusting off the back of your pants and looking up at the man who towers over you, even standing at your tallest.

Something between a laugh and a scoff leaves his body, but you ignore it. It’s his problem if Brad decides to give him hell later.

--

The rest of your shift drags with so few customers. What feels like an hour turns out to have been only ten minutes, and on and on and on. You make it to your last break before closing with your sanity barely intact. You hang up your server apron and step outside into the alleyway to take your break out in the cool night air.

You stop midway through the entry, noticing the strange man is still there, leaning against the brick wall of the boutique next door. After a moment of frowning at him, you go to your favorite spot on the milk crate across from him and fast enough away from the dumpster that you won’t get sick to your stomach.

“I see you’re still waiting here,” you say leaning your elbows onto your knees and holding your chin up.

“And you’re here again,” he adds, seeming somewhat more friendly than before.

“I’m shocked Brad didn’t come run you off,” you comment.

“He knows better than to do that,” he tells you, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a near empty pack of cigarettes. “The prick hasn’t shown his face all afternoon. I’m getting impatient.”

“You’re waiting on him?” Your curiosity is getting the best of you.  “What could you possibly want with Brad?”

Not to shit on him, but he’s not the most charismatic guy. Nor is he someone who would go looking for trouble. Which you assume this man in the alley is.

“He owes my boss a debt,” is all he says and then outs the half-smoked cigarette out on the brick behind him. He takes a step forward and kneels down to your level, so he’s face to face with you. “So, tell me, is he even in that shithole restaurant or not?”

“I haven’t seen him all day, but he could be in the office.” You shrug, then hold out your hand. “For a cigarette, I’ll go get him for you.”

The blonde frowns, “What if he’s not there?”

“I’ll give you his phone number and you can harass him that way, I guess.”

“Wow,” he laughs, a smile creeping on his cheeks. “You’d sell out your boss for a single cigarette. I can only imagine what my boss would think of this.”

You shrug and smile. “It’s not like Brad inspires loyalty here. Like you said, it’s a shithole. So, are you giving me one or not?”

He holds out the pack and you take one, his last one. “Thanks, now let me have a light.” You tuck it between your lips as he lights the end for you.

The first taste of nicotine and smoke secures your decision. It is worth it.   

--

“Hey Brad, can you help me out back? Someone flipped the dumpster over again and I can’t get it back on my own,” you ask sweetly, leaning against the door frame of his office.

“Jesus Christ, why does this keep happening?” He rubs his face in frustration then stands up.

You let him lead the way through the kitchen and out the back. Brad freezes in the doorway and you laugh, making him turn around and look at you. He looks furious, but he steps outside anyway. You follow him, curious to see what’s going to happen with the stranger and Brad.

It’s quick, so quick you barely see it. One second Brad is standing, the next he’s on the ground with a clearly broken jaw. Before you can register more, a foot is in his stomach and he’s coughing up blood. Brad isn’t exactly the best boss in the world, but you’re not sure if he deserves this. Then again, you don’t know what he’s done to elicit this sort of response from the stranger.

“You should leave,” he barks out after another kick to Brads stomach.

You look up and see he’s smiling, actually smiling. You smile back, unsure why you’re reacting this way. You’re not even sure if it’s out of character for you really, but maybe you’re just in shock.  

Brad is a bloody mess after another ten minutes of being beat. Whatever he did, you’re sure he won’t do it again. You watch the whole time, not really sure why you’re so interested. You’ve never hated your boss, but something about this is so horrific you can’t look away. The blonde man’s knuckles are covered in blood by the time he’s done, he leans back against the brick wall.

“Cigarette?” He asks, offering up a fresh pack from his back pocket.

You nod, taking another and his lighter with it. “So, what did Brad do to deserve that?” You ask, tossing the lighter back to him.

“He owes my boss a lot of money.” He shrugs then pulls out a rag from his pocket to wipe his hands off with.

“I have to close up the restaurant, so if you want you can wash them off inside.” You offer, blowing smoke towards him. “Afterall, I’m sure he won’t say anything about it.” You point at Brad on the ground. You can see his chest barely rising and falling.

“Alright,” he shrugs and walks through the kitchen door and into the restaurant.

You follow him in, tossing the cigarette butt on the ground. The man is already washing his hands in the dish sink when you’re inside, so you lock the back door to start closing. “Should I call someone to help Brad?”

“I don’t care what you do. Just don’t say I was here, or you’ll regret it.” The threat comes out of him so smoothly you almost don’t realize that it is one.

“Alright,” you decide against calling an ambulance or the police. Whatever mess he got himself into, he can get himself out of it.

Before you give yourself time to ponder what kind of person that thought process makes you, you grab a broom and go about your normal closing tasks. After a few minutes your mind is heavier than ever with thoughts about today’s sequence of events. The restaurant is fully swept by the time the stranger comes out of the kitchen and into the dining room. With Brad gone, it’s just you and this man in the entire place.

“What’s your name,” you ask, emptying the dustpan into the garbage by the kitchen door.

He gives you a suspicious look but answers, “Phinks.”

“I’m -----,” you tell him before he leaves, not looking back.

--

Weeks pass and you’re not surprised to find out that Brad was let go from the Restaurant, making it chaotic to function until they found his replacement. Phinks crosses your mind every time you go out to take a break behind the building, but you haven’t seen him since that night he showed up. You’re not exactly sure why he crosses your mind so often, but you do find yourself fantasizing about the way his hair would feel tangled in your fingers.

Today is one of those days.

It’s been a slow afternoon. Plus, your new manager, Theresa, has been on everyone’s asses about side work. It seems redundant since everyone knows what they need to do anyway. It’s days like this where you actually miss Brad’s laidback management style, even with all his faults.

However, your breaks seem to come faster now that you’re busier. When you step outside, you can’t help but glance around, looking for Phinks. As usual, he’s not there. You take a seat on your trust milkcrate and pull up twitter on your phone. Part of you wants to search his name, knowing there can’t be too many people with it, but the other part is calling you a crazy stalker.

“Smoke?” A gruff voice breaks you from your train of thought and you look up to see none other than the man you considered cyber stalking.

“Please,” you reply, a bit breathless. He hands you a cigarette and the lighter he offered. “Here to commit another crime?” You tease with the cigarette between your lips.

“Not today. Just passing by.” He tells you, taking a seat on another milk crate.

The quite tension between you builds with each second passes with neither of you speaking. It’s apparent he wasn’t just passing by since you’ve never seen him in this area before. Considering you spend nearly every day within a few blocks of the restaurant or your apartment nearby, you just know he’s had to gone out of his way to come here.

You put out the cigarette on the concrete below. “So, why are you here?”

He rolls his eyes, not speaking still.

“Are you stalking me?” You ask, half joking.

“Totally, I just can’t get enough of you.” He says smoothly with a glimmer in his eye.

“I guess I should be scared then,” you lean forward, your face now only a few inches from him.

“Most people are scared when I’m around, that wouldn’t surprise me.”

You grin as he starts to smirk. “I’m not, though.”

“You must be incredibly stupid then,” he adds, leaning even closer to you. You’re face to face with him now.

“Or,” you roll your eyes, ignoring the fact he just insulted you, “you’re not as scary as you think.”

He pulls back, and you feel like you’ve said the wrong thing. However, you notice he starts to look around. Almost like he’s checking for something. Before you can take another breath, his hand has moved to your face, fingers gripping you sternly but somehow without hurting you.

You feel his lips brush against yours, and you inhale quickly before you’re able to react. Slowly, you allow yourself to give in, kissing him back. He tastes like cigarettes and mint, something you hadn’t expected. He must have been chewing gum earlier today, or it’s the taste of his toothpaste. The thought almost makes you giggle.

He pulls away, “Let’s get out of here.” A statement, not a question.

Without hesitation you follow him. Fuck working and fuck that bitch Theresa.

Phinks lead you a way down the street, not looking ack to see if you’re following. He must trust that you would have followed him despite not giving an answer. He brings you down another alley and to a sleek black car. He’s opening the door before you can try and see what kind of car it is, not that it matters now.

You slide in the backseat, and he follows you, pushing you back against the seat. The door slams shut as he hovers over you, looking at you like you’re the most glorious thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. You reach up, pulling him down onto you by his shirt. He kisses you again and your body ignites. Heat flutters through you from your head to toes.

His body is heavy against you. Your hands wander down his chest and to his stomach, feeling each crevice of his abs. You moan as he bites your bottom lip gently, pulling it between his teeth and releasing it. Your eyes flutter open, and you realize what’s going to happen next.

“Please tell me you have a condom.”

“Shut up, I’m not that stupid.” He grumbles, reaching to the front seat. He drops the condom on your stomach and smirks. “My lady,” he teases.

“You shut up now.” You roll your eyes and start to pull his shirt over his head.

He helps you, shrugging it off and tossing it to the front seats. You can’t help but stare at his form laid bare in front of you. Every bit of his skin is smooth and toned to perfection. You can only imagine how he’s managed to get his body in this shape, but that just makes your mind start to run wild with images of him hot and sweaty in the gym. 

He reaches for your top; his fingers are cold on your skin as he starts to pull it up off you. Sitting up, you grab his arms to pull yourself up. As your top comes off, you let go, falling back against the leather seats of his car.

Phinks smiles at you, taking you in as you manage to unclasp your bra behind you. He leans down, kissing your neck. Slowly, your body reacts, a rush flowing through you and making your toes curl.

How long has it been since you’ve done this? You can’t remember. Your body knows it’s been too long and is reacting faster than you can think. Part of you is embarrassed by the way you feel like moaning already, but the other is screaming for you to let it out. So, you do.

Your moan cuts through the quiet sounds of his lips on your skin and you feel him throb against your stomach. You’re glad you let that out.

“Fuck this,” he growls in your ear while forcing his pants down his thighs.

You follow, wiggling under him to manage to get out of your work jeans. You struggle getting them off your ankles; Phinks pulls them off and drops them on the floorboard. Now you’re left in your underwear, and Phinks is completely nude on top of you. You take a few moments to admire his body above yours, toned and golden.

With his right hand, he grazes his fingers down your side, sending shockwaves through your body. His fingers loop through the waistband of your underwear and he smiles wickedly.

“I like these,” he snaps the black fabric against your skin, and you laugh. “But, not enough to keep them.”

With both hands, he grips your panties, pulling them apart and ripping them off your body in one tug. If you hadn’t already been aroused, this would have surely done it for you. His fingers tease your clit, surprising you at his first move to tease you. You bite your bottom lip, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling.

“No, I want you to watch,” he stops moving his fingers, and you whine but open your eyes. “That’s better, pretty girl.”

You watch as his fingers slide down, teasing your entrance and glistening with your wetness. His middle fingers slides in first, just a few centimeters and you feel the urge to close your eyes and just lay back and let him do whatever he wants, but you don’t. You bite back a moan and watch as he pleases you.

He pumps his finger fully in you, and out, and then back in again. You moan loudly, fingers digging into the leather seat of his car. Your chest rises and falls as he keeps teasing you, adding another finger and filling you up more. You grip his wrist with your right hand, your left steadying you on the seat as his fingers move faster, fucking you harder.

“Fuck,” you whimper breathlessly.

Phinks leans forward and kisses you, his tongue slipping between your lips while he finger fucks you. You kiss him back, desperate for the closeness. His fingers pull out of you quickly, leaving you gasping for air against his lips and clenching around nothing.

“Fuck you,” you say quietly, looking at his stupid grin that’s full of excitement. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Oh, I will.” You feel the tip of his cock prod at you between your legs and you grin.

He’s so much thicker than you expected, even after seeing him. You gasp as he slides in you, adjusting to his size while tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Stretching around his cock, you moan feeling that oh so familiar pleasant sting. He thrusts in you a few times, slowly letting you adjust. You’d be insulted with anyone else, but you desperately need to adjust to the mass of him.

After a few rough thrusts Phinks wraps his arms around you, and you hook your legs around his waist. You almost yelp as he readjusts you so you’re ready to ride him as he sits back. The arrogant smile on his lips doesn’t piss you off but challenges you instead. You know you’re going to give him the best ride he’s ever had.

Slowly, you grip his shoulders, pressing your breasts up close to his face and his smile turns down with a more serious gaze. You rise up once, feeling his cock slip out of you slowly almost until it’s ready to fall out until taking it back in, to the hilt.

Now, it’s his turn to tip his head back and let out the most glorious sound you’ve ever heard. His moans fill the silence in the car, and you clench around his cock. It only makes him moan louder, a glorious sound coming from deep inside his throat.  You smile, pressing a kiss you his neck and running your tongue across the soft skin.

You feel his body shiver under you, and you want to whine at the pure satisfaction of it all. Something about Phinks looking completely at your whim now is so opposite of what you’d seen of him before. It’s thrilling really, knowing you have all the power even if he could snap you in half if he wanted; but instead, he wants to let you pleasure him while you get off on his cock.

“I’m not going to make it much longer,” you whimper, your pace now consistent as you ride him. “I need to cum, now.”

“You can wait,” he coos, slipping his hands down to your hips and slowing your pace. He guides you his fingers digging into your skin.

His lips are on yours again and he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting hard. You cry out as he laughs, but a surge of energy goes through you making you tingle all over. Your toes curl as he thrusts up into you, shocking you.

“Fuck, oh fuck” you moan as he continues to fuck you while holding your hips still. Maybe this is really why he wanted you on top because now he has all the control. All that’s left to do is hold onto his shoulders and hope your nails aren’t hurting him too badly.

“Cum,” he says quietly, just against your ear before nipping at the lope with his teeth. It takes you off guard.

You cum, crying out a mix of his name and fuck, not really sure where one ends and the other begins. Your toes curl and your legs go weak. If you weren’t on top of him, with his hands steadying you, you’re sure you would have collapsed.

He’s still fucking you, only slower now and you start to wonder if he’s going to cum soon. Or if he’s someone who could go on forever until you’re a babbling mess unable to form a single thought from being so overstimulated. Part of you wants to see if he could accomplish that but the other part knows you desperately want to make him cum now.

As you’re lost in the afterglow of pleasure and thought, you feel his cock twitch. He’s going to cum, you realize. It makes you force another soft moan, wanting to encourage him but unable to formulate words.

Phinks cums, or at least you suspect since he stops fucking you. The condom didn’t bust at least, you think. It’s a few moments before he settles you down on his lap after pulling out of you and removing the condom. You don’t pay attention to what he does with it, just hoping he didn’t liter and throw it outside of the car.

You let your body relax against his, the warmth radiating off you both. It’s silent for the most part, besides the quiet pants Phinks lets out every other breath. You relish in it, knowing this could either be the first or last time this happens. Either way, you’re happy with what’s happened even if you were limited to the space of the car.

His loss, you think.

“You’re not going back to that damned restaurant, alright?” He breaks the silence, and you furrow your brows.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, knowing he can’t see your reaction with your cheek against his chest and eyes looking down away from his face.

“I’m serious,” he laughs this time. “Fuck, you’re so much better than I imagined.”

You laugh this time, was he getting himself off imagining this over the last few weeks? “Weirdo,” you comment, not meaning it at all.

A few more minutes pass until he moves you off his lap and onto the seat beside him. He wraps his arms around your shoulder. “You’re mine now.”

[cat3ch1sm]

╔══ஓ๑💚๑ஓ══╗

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭!

╚══ஓ๑💚๑ஓ══╝

🌿 𝔠𝔞𝔱3𝔠𝔥1𝔰𝔪 🌿

*:･ﾟ｡ hello, everyone! i am cat3ch1sm, formerly simplysober, a black writer on tumblr! you may also call me eve. 💚

i hope you all enjoy my content and consider following me if you do <3 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

🕸💚 request status: closed for now! 🤍🤎

🤎🤍 masterlist below! 💚🕸

part one of masterlist

part two of masterlist

part three of masterlist

part four of masterlist

part five of masterlist

🧺 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 🧺

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ i write sfw and nsfw works! i have no posting schedule, and time taken on requests varies. below are the fandoms i write for :D

writings can be drabbles, headcanons, text msgs, one-shots, incorrect quotes, and rarely multi-chapter stories. for x reader writings, the reader will mostly be female for sfw and nsfw works, but for sfw works the reader may also be gender neutral.

some fandoms are rarely written for unless requested, so some fandoms have less works than others. however, it doesn’t mean that i won’t write for them freely, and feel free to request for them whenever reqs r open <3

✧༺💚༻∞

death note- light, l, misa, near, matt, mello, mikami (sfw+ nsfw)

hunter x hunter- gon, killua, leorio, kurapika, chrollo, hisoka, illumi, uvogin, machi, pakunoda, shizuku, feitan, phinks, shalnark (sfw+ no nsfw for gon and killua)

ohshc- haruhi, kyoya, tamaki, honey, mori, hikaru, kaoru (sfw+ no nsfw for haruhi, honey, and the twins)

black butler- sebastian, ciel, claude, agni, soma, mey-rin, finnian, bardroy (sfw+ no nsfw for ciel, finnian, or mey-rin)

sk8 the infinity- langa, reki, miya, joe, cherry (sfw+ no nsfw for miya)

jujutsu kaisen- yuuji, nobara, maki, megumi, gojo, nanami, geto, toji, sukuna, yuuta (sfw+ nsfw)

chainsaw man- denji, power, aki, kobeni, makima, himeno (sfw+nsfw)

across the spiderverse- miles, gwen, pavitr, miguel, margo, hobie, lyla, jess, peter b, miles!42 (sfw+ no nsfw for gwen, pav, miles, miles!42, margo)

hazbin hotel-charlie, vaggie, angel dust (platonic only), husk, alastor, sir pentious, lute, adam, sera, emily, lucifer, vox, velvette, carmilla carmine

notice- some fandoms/characters are rarely written for unless requested!

☘️ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 ☘️

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ here are just some things i want readers to keep in mind when on my account!

✧༺💚༻∞

~ be patient when requesting, my schedule/health is inconsistent and sometimes interferes with my uploading :( for this same reason, sometimes i don’t post for a while, bear with me please)

~ please be specific with your request!! like genre, plot, gender if needed, body type if needed, personality, setting, sfw or nsfw- i can write much better if i have more details :) just specify whatever you can<3

~ all of my writings are either fem!reader or gender neutral reader. idk how to write for males :// all nsfw works, though, are fem!reader

~ i don’t write nsfw for children or non-con. if you have questions for other things i won’t write for message me :)

~ i will happily write x black!reader, if that’s what you would like specify in your request! also, if a writing randomly has a black reader, don’t question it lmao. my black followers mean the world to me tbh 🤎💚

~ people who have requested several times will not be top priority over first-time requesters.

~ must be following me to request!! sometimes i cannot see if you are following me or not, so if i accidentally write a request for a non-follower, that requester will be blocked. if i take the time and energy to write a story for you, the least you can do is follow me. (because of this rule, anonymous requests are not accepted because i cant see if you follow me or not!)

~ i have the right to ignore or deny any request

~ discrimination or bigotry will be immediately blocked!

that is all, everyone! i hope you enjoy reading on my account, i love you all very much <33 your support is valued greatly :)

[sk3tch404]

MASTERLISTS 💜

💜 = ask

💙 = Drawings (to see more only this kind of content, search, #my doodle baboodles)

🖤 = shitpost

❤ = Writings

💌 = Videos

💞 = Older Post (mostly 2020 - 2022) I can't take people thinking my old media is at the same level of media I post rn. And i can't get myself to delete bc of sentimental reasons

Red indicates fandoms that I am open to doing! But feel free to send in an ask if you'd like!!

UQUIZZES

Which idv male hunter would be YOUR yandere? 💞

...

IDENTITY V

Yandere Norton inspired drawing 💙 💞

Yandere hostile Joseph daydream 💜 💙 💞

Yandere Joseph, Antonio, and Wu chang playing Puppet Combo games with Reader head cannons ❤ 💞

Reader besties with another Darling with Yan Naib and Yan Norton ❤💞

Yandere Joseph (Yeah, and the next time you call me a stalker, make sure you put registered in front of it! You wack motherfu-) 💙 🖤 💌💞

Yandere Athlete Squad (- Ganji) (So what do we do?! There's only one thing to do! We have to induce amnesia) 💙 🖤 💌💞

Yandere Aesop with Fem Gyaru! (Kogal) Reader 💜 💙💞

LACF, The Passion Project (Analog Horror Style) 💌💞 (Mainly Norton)

Yandere harem shenanigans (Aesop, Naib, and Norton) 💙💞

Yandere Jack (Ripper) WHEN I FEEL LIKE ROLLING UP IMMA SLIDE IN 💌 🖤💞

Yandere Jack (Ripper) general hcs 💜 ❤💞

Yandere Aesop (general stuff) 💙💞

Yandere male hunters + survs reacting to you asking if they 'like like' you after confessing 🖤 ❤💞

Jpop idol darling concept with Antonio and the Composer 💜 ❤💞

Yandere Norton Hcs 💜 ❤💞

Yandere Jack Thoughts. ❤

Yandere Wu Chang with a Chinese reader from modern day ❤💞

DEMON SLAYER

Yandere Tanjiro with frail Y/n 💜 💙💞

Yandere Inosuke with black Y/n who don't take his shit 💜💙💞

Yandere Tanjiro with distant Y/n who later develops feelings 💜💙💞

Yandere Kokushibo + Wedding attire 💙

Yandere Kokushibo, Akaza, Douma, & Aizetsu sillies 💙

Yandere Rengoku doodle 💙

Yandere Douma doodle 💙

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Yandere Megumi on a boba date 💜 💙💞

HUNTER X HUNTER

Yandere Phantom Troupe with an s/o who gets friendly with other partners. ❤💞

Yandere Nobunaga, Chrollo, Phinks and Fetain doodle 💙

Yandere Chrollo doodle 💙

TOKYO REVENGERS

Get well photo - Yan Sanzu 🖤 💜 💙💞

Mc Swagger Rindou 🖤 💜 💙💞

Takeomi - Hair down pt.1 (Segsy wet dog) 💙💞

Takeomi - Hair down pt.2 (Kpop boy style/Felix from that one k boy group) 💙💞

Ran, Sanzu, and kokonoi idek 💙💞

Yandere Izana doodle #1 💙

Yandere Izana doodle #2 💙

Yandere Hanma blurb - Smoking ❤

Yandere Ran doodle (Unhinged School Boy) 💙

Yandere Izana doodle #3 💙

Yandere Hanma doodle 💙

SPOOKY MONTH

Yandere Bob Velseb 💙💞

Yandere Kevin 💙💞

GENSHIN IMPACT

Yandere Tighnari doodle 💙

RECORD OF RAGNAROK

Yandere Shiva general hcs ❤️💞

ARCANE

Yandere Silco General Hcs ❤

Yandere Silco with a Reader who only puts up with him because of Platonic! Jinx ❤

METAL FAMILY

Yandere Glam doodle 💙

Yandere Dee doodle 💙

PSYCHO CUTIES

Yandere Doctor Masacrik doodle 💙

JOJO'S BIZZARE ADVENTURE

Yandere Malone doodle 💙

Yandere Risotto Doodle 💙

Yandere Ghiaccio doodle 💙💜

[robinofinashiro]

scenario: feitan gets jealous seeing how many men come into your store to flirt with you. 

characters: feitan portor x fem! reader 

request status: OPEN / semi-au! pls send in req’s :) all fandoms and rules are pinned to the top of my blog and i’m more than willing to elaborate on questions if any of you have any! also, if any of you guess the song i mentioned below and who it’s by, i swear i will write prioritize a fic for you for recognizing it lmao.

voy a ser tu ex, el tóxico, el innombrable. una pesadilla, un dolor de muelas.

i’m going to be your ex, the toxic, the unmentionable. a nightmare, a pain in your molars. 

you smiled at your customer, who was taking his sweet time ordering his cupcakes as the line behind him started getting antsy to order. your bakery was the busiest in all of York New and when the rush hour started, you were on your feet for at least two hours. 

the small bakery that once started in Meteor City soon turned into a bigger city when you finally had the means to move your shop into a bigger building. you had to give a big thank you to all of the Phantom Troupe Mafia who helped you financially with the costs of buying your space. 

your relationship with the one they called Feitan Portor was the one who helped most of all. the two of you knew each other since childhood and when he finally left Meteor City in order to join his fate with the Phantom Troupe Mafia, he was a bit saddened that he had to leave you behind. 

when he finally returned, years later, he was surprised to see how well you were doing for yourself. you had a small bakery cart outside of your house and sold only a few cupcakes a day but when word got out of how good they were, you were slammed with orders and Feitan couldn’t help but be proud of you. 

he knew you would eventually leave Meteor City. you weren’t the type of girl to leave such a shit life there and although he practically begged that you didn’t follow his footsteps, he found relief when he reunited with you and saw you selling the cute cupcakes you loved to make. 

your relationship with Feitan was very odd, one could say. whenever the two of you were together, it was like you were both in a relationship but Feitan had never made it official and there would be days where you would go on dates with guys who came into your store to ask. 

“here you go!” you exclaimed happily, “two vanilla cupcakes and one red velvet! i hope you enjoy,” you called the next person who was up but the guy remained in his place, “you doing anything tonight?” he asked suddenly. 

the girl behind him growled, annoyed that he stayed. “um, I’m sorry but I do have plans later,” you lied awkwardly. he rolled his eyes, “baby, it’s the middle of December and it’s freezing outside, what plans do you have?” he stated, scooching on the counter. 

“sir, there’s a line behind you, can you please move so i can to the woman behind you?” you asked nicely. he was about to talk when a hand reached to his and twisted it, making the man drop his cupcakes, “leave or your hand will be on the ground along with those cupcakes.” 

you instantly perked up at the sound of the voice, “Feitan!” you exclaimed, seeing the short man along with his friends, Phinks, Shizuku, and Shalnark. he gave you a tiny smile as the guy was doubled over in pain, “move you shit,” he stated, kicking the man to the side the woman could finally order.

you quickly took her order before telling one of your assistants to take over the register so you could attend to Feitan and his friends. the three boys were dressed in complete black suits as Shizuku was dressed in black pants and a her usual black turtle neck with the cross necklace. 

“what are you guys doing in York New?” you asked. Shalnark smiled to you, “we’re done with our business for the moment so we all settled here for the moment,” he explained as Phink’s stood next to you and smiled, “sweetheart, what’re the flavors you have available?” he asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 

you looked to your tab as Feitan stared at Phink’s, ready to kill him for the way he was acting around you. “we have red velvet, strawberry, blueberry, vanilla, and cinnamon for the moment? what’re all of you interested in?” you asked, getting a pen to take the order down. 

Phinks asked for a simple vanilla as Shizuku asked for two strawberry’s and Shalnark asked for a surprise. you knew Feitan wasn’t one to have a sweet tooth but you still asked to which he denied almost immediately, still glaring at Phink’s for his ‘joke’. 

you walked to the back where the freshest cupcakes were at. you only had one other worker with you running the store as you hardly put your trust in any outsider. you knew with your connections to Feitan, it would be very irresponsible to have a civilian working alongside with you and being potentially put in danger. plus, you tried to keep your ingredients to yourself and you the only reason why you trust your assistant was because she had also grown up in Meteor City. 

“hey,” Feitan said, walking into the kitchen, surprised at how clean it was. you smiled as he brought you in for a rough kiss, catching you by surprise. Feitan’s kisses were always very rough or very intimate, never in the middle. “busy today?” he asked, sitting on the metal table. 

you shook your head no, “no plans outside of prepping a few things and going back home. why do you ask?” you placed all of the cupcakes they ordered on a tray and facing him, “taking you out after you’re done here so be ready,” he stated before walking out of the kitchen. 

you walked out shortly after, seeing that the line was now a lot shorter and your assistant was placing the last few cupcakes on the box. you walked to the counter after giving Feitan’s friends their cupcakes and taking over the register once again. 

you were overhearing the few conversations that were going around in the shop until you heard the bell that indicated that someone walked in go off. you looked up to see one of your regulars and a guy who asked you out for dinner every once and a while. 

“Rendai, how are you?” you asked, giving him a smile. he gave you a smirk, placing himself comfortably on the counter as he overlooked the cupcakes, “two red velvet’s and a cinnamon babe,” Feitan instantly looked over as soon as he heard the name. 

“here ya go, it’s on the house,” you said, handing him the box, “as a payment for buying my dinner last week.” Feitan was taken back when he heard the reason. if he was buying your dinner, god knows what else the two of you were doing when he wasn’t here. 

“ah, the second leader is mad,” Shizuku said giggling. Phink’s shook his head in disbelief, “you can’t expect her to wait for you on hand and foot when you’re always gone,” he explained, seeing the way the guy was making you laugh and blush slightly at whatever he was saying.

Feitan, having enough of what he was seeing, got up from the table, practically kicking in the chair before going behind the counter and sitting on the counter behind you. Feitan, excluding his height, was a very intimidating and one look at a person usually left with them running away scared. 

he sat behind you, flicking his pocket knife up and down as he stared at Rendai. “uh, who is that?” he asked nervously, not knowing why a guy dressed in all black was staring at him. you grabbed Feitan’s hand, “this is Feitan. he helped me bring this shop to life...he’s a very important person in my life,” you explained. 

Feitan didn’t say a word but he felt a sense of relief as you explained who he was to the idiot in front of him. you heard the timer go off indicating that another batch of cupcakes were done and left Feitan at the counter with Rendai. 

“i’d suggest you leave right now before you walk out here with a missing limb,” Feitan said as smoothly as possible. Rendai was taken back, not understanding the situation as Shalnark, Shizuku, and Phink’s walked behind him, “this is a yakuza ran bakery and if you get in the way of my friend Feitan’s relationship with ( your name ), it’s going to be real sad seeing your lifeless body found dead in a ditch somewhere with your limbs in different creeks.” 

Rendai felt himself fall stiff as Feitan pushed him away, basically kicking him into the ground as he scurried away. Feitan gave Phink’s a silent thank you as you walked out of the kitchen, mildly disappointment that Rendai had left without telling you goodbye. 

“we’re leaving!” Shizuku said happily, giving you a quick hug as Phink’s and Shalnark waved you a goodbye, “we’ll see ya later, I guess,” Shalnark said as Phink’s kicked him out the door. you loved all of Feitan’s friends, finding it odd that all of their personalities somehow worked together even though one member was not like the other. 

the shop was dwindling down to its last hour as your assistant had told you goodbye and the last few customers were leaving. you knew many people hated Christmas music but since it was right around the corner, you played the music lowly in the store, blaming it on your assistant whenever someone complained even though it was you who guiltily enjoyed it.

“Feitan, can you hand me the broom?” you asked, locking the doors and flipping the sign to closed. he handed you the broom, seeing you quickly sweep the door shut as you sang/mumbled to ‘wonderful christmastime” by Paul McCartney. 

he couldn’t help but laugh at the way you were singing to the song, not giving a fuck who heard. a bit of him still felt betrayed for the situation with Rendai but all you needed was a little reminder of who you belong too, right? 

Feitan walked up right behind you, grasping your wrist softly as you gasped at the sudden contact, “something wrong?” you asked, quietly. his eyebrow lifted before chuckling, “that Rendai boy was too close for my liking,” he stated. 

you laughed, not believing what he was saying. 

“he was just friend, Fei, nothing to worry about,” you answered, going back to sweeping. he dismissed what you said before grabbing your wrist and holding your face with his hand, “he bought you dinner and called you names only I’m allowed too, that isn’t just a friend,” he replied. 

“Feitan, what do you want from me?” you asked, pushing yourself back but you couldn’t. Feitan’s grip was too strong to release yourself. “you’re mine, whether you like it or not. I thought I made that clear to you a long time ago.” you tried not to roll your eyes but it was hard when Feitan was basically talking gibberish to you. 

“you’re gone almost all the time, whenever we’re together, it’s only for two or three days before you leave again so sue me for wanting to find someone who’s around more often,” you retorted. Feitan scoffed, “that’s too bad because you’re still mine. I might not be here often but I guess I’ll have to be if that means you’ll get the point.” 

you sighed, not knowing what to say, “i’ll be here by your side, like a tooth pain if i have too,” you laughed, before replying to him with a quick kiss. he returned it without hesitation and deepened it by grabbing you by the shirt and slipping in his tongue, making you moan rather quickly. 

“hurry up and finish so we can leave.” 

+

the following morning, you woke up in your bed with Feitan missing. a part of you was disappointed as you thought that he was going to keep true to his word but it was Feitan, he wasn’t really one to be trusted at times. 

you crawled out of bed, slipping on his shirt from the night before as you ran your fingers through your hair as you felt something on your left ring finger. your eyes widened, seeing the rock of a ring on your finger. were you engaged? you still remembered everything from last night but the one thing you didn’t remember was getting fucking engaged. 

you walked into to your bathroom, not believing what the hell was going on when you saw a stickie note on the mirror. 

“went to get lunch considering your insufferable ass probably won’t be up until mid noon. i’ll see you in a few Mrs.Portor.” 

you heart fell to your stomach as you read your name with Feitan’s last name attached. ( your name ) Portor. didn’t sound too bad. you knew Feitan wasn’t a man of many words to begin with so you figured he must’ve slipped the ring on your finger when you were asleep, figuring you’d say yes regardless if he asked you when you were awake or asleep. 

the ring was huge but you knew with Feitan’s ‘job’ it must’ve been nothing to him and he had told you a countless amount of times that nothing was too much for you and that you only deserved the best. you smiled down at the ring, butterflies in your stomach as heard the door opening. 

your future husband was finally walking in. 

[autumnsart22]

Kidnapped: Feitan x fem reader💀

Little angsty fic for my torture gremlin 🤪 

Tags: Brief description of torture, mentions of sex and violence, almost rape scene (not with Fei)

You didn’t think you had ever hated anyone more than Feitan Portor. He was cruel, arrogant, and selfish, taking every opportunity to humiliate you and get on your nerves. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what to do to piss you off, and there had been more than one occasion when your arguing had gotten you two in very tight spots during missions. 

It didn’t always used to be that way. When you had first joined the Phantom Troupe, you had actually been pretty good friends with him, closer than most of the other Troupe members. But over time he had become cold and cruel, turning his back on you and becoming your tormentor instead. 

Which was why you were pissed off at Chrollo for pairing you up with Feitan for the next mission, but the Troupe leader insisted that you worked well together when you weren’t constantly arguing...which was rare. And unfortunately, this was going to be a big heist. 

Tonight you would be infiltrating the underground auction in Yorknew city to steal all the goods up for auction. It was a large job, especially facing off against all the mafia bosses, and you had to look the part in order to blend in. You were done up in a pretty red dress, your hair swept up to reveal crystal earrings and your lightly done makeup. Honestly, you were kind of feeling yourself, which was unusual because you didn’t usually care about how you looked. 

Feitan walked silently beside you as you made your way from the Troupe’s hideout in the direction of where you would be entering the auction. He was dressed up as well, wearing a black tuxedo and missing the usual bandana over his face, which you knew made him uncomfortable being so exposed. You might have tried to be nice if he’d not given you a once over when he saw you, a sneer pulling up his face as he scoffed. So instead of politely ignoring him, you grinned coldly and said, “You look like shit.” 

“You look like whore.” 

Your hands curled into fists, but you managed to not punch him. You did look slightly whory, but that was the point. You wanted to tempt all the big business men into spilling their riches into your waiting palms, even if it meant flashing a bit of bare leg and cleavage. The little gremlin didn’t have to point it out though. 

It was easy getting inside the auction, and soon you and Feitan were mingling with the guests as you waited for the event to begin. Feitan scanned the room with narrowed eyes, searching for our main target among the many rich mafia bosses throughout the area: Teika Rubin. 

As the son of one of the largest syndicate bosses in Yorknew city, Teika was set to inherit almost 20 million Jenny once he took over the business. He was at the auction in place of his father, and he currently held a diamond worth at least 5 million Jenny--more if you sold it right--in order to sell to a private buyer. It was your job to get him alone so that you could steal it. 

“He there,” Feitan murmured, his hair brushing your ear as he gestured towards the back of the room. He was right; at the center of an excessive number of bodyguards was Teika himself. 

He was young, maybe around twenty four, but you could tell by his eyes that his age didn’t mean inexperienced. You honestly had expected a pampered rich boy, but this was different. Cruel, smug, and powerful. And, if the way his eyes scanned the room with careful observation skills was any tell, smart. Not a good combination. Your mission may have been a bit harder than you expected, but there was no way you were going to tell Feitan that. 

“I’ll get him alone, but make sure you follow us.” 

You didn’t wait for a response as you slid away into the crowd. 

It ended up going exactly as you wanted. You spilled a drink on yourself and one of his guards, and like the charming person he was, Teika offered you a change of clothes. It only took a few sultry looks and suggestive words before he had you pinned up against the wall of one of the private rooms, shoving your dress up as he checked the clock. 

“I think I have enough time,” he said, smiling slightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you well for this.” 

What had Feitan called you? A whore? You pushed that thought violently from your head as Teika started to kiss down your neck. 

You shuddered, clenching your teeth as he slid his hands along your thighs, your dress riding up almost to your hips. You were willing to do whatever it took to succeed in this mission and not let the rest of the Troupe down, but it was hard to force down your disgust and fear. 

Even if you wanted to escape, you weren’t sure you’d be able to. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and your Nen wasn’t exactly a combat tool. You were able to see the near future of yourself and people you loved if they were in life threatening danger, but although the power had gotten you out of many tight spots, it had holes. For example, if your opponent was just aiming to injure rather than kill, then you were completely in the dark. 

Plus, Teika was powerful. You didn’t know what his Nen power was exactly, but Chrollo had confirmed that he could be considered around the same level as a Phantom Troupe member in terms of combat ability. 

Please, Feitan, hurry.

The syndicate heir held your throat tightly as he went to tug your dress from your shoulders, and a small whimper of panic escaped your throat. 

And then Teika was being thrown across the room, slamming into the wall as you slid to the floor, gasping for air. Feitan stood over you, his eyes blank as he surveyed your rumbled hair and the way your dress had ridden up. 

“Let’s go,” he snapped, and you straightened your shoulders, snatching the knife he tossed you out of the air. 

Teika was quick to give up the jewel in his possession when he realized that all of his guards were dead, but he didn’t seem very upset about it. In fact, the manic look in his eye was almost gleeful as he watched you exit the room with Feitan. 

“Phantom Troupe,” you heard him mutter as the door clicked shut, and you set about locking him in there. 

“Why don’t we just kill him?” You asked, but Feitan didn’t even look at you. 

“Take too long,” he finally grunted. 

It was true. You could already hear the sound of gunshots coming from the main auction hall where Shizuku and Franklin were taking care of the rest of the mafia bosses, and soon the entire place would be swarmed with law enforcement and other mafia members. A fight between Feitan and Teika would be so destructive and long that it would cause more harm than good. 

“Thanks for coming in time,” you said as you walked side by side towards the back of the building where you were going to meet the other Troupe members.

Feitan snorted. “Seemed like fun.” 

Your mouth fell open, and you gaped at him. “I was just doing my part.”

“All you good for anyway,” he muttered, and you froze. 

“What?” 

Feitan crossed his arms, turning to you. “You useless.” 

“Y-you-” You were struggling to speak. You were used to petty insults, but this was different. He was dead serious. So you said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re just jealous.” 

Instantly, Feitan’s eyes flashed and turned lethal. “Jealous? Of what? You nothing but a burden to the Troupe with your arrogance and annoying personality. You weak, and the only thing you can do is…” His eyes trailed significantly down your short dress. 

You thought such things on the daily, but hearing them from him in particular made it worse. Tears filled your eyes unprompted, but you weren’t going to cry. Instead, you straightened your shoulders and turned your back on him, walking away without another word. You weren’t sure you could forgive him this time. 

------

3 hours later: 

“Where Y/n?” Phinks glared at Feitan as he met him outside of the auction hall, but Feitan only shrugged. “Is she ok?” He pushed, and the short Troupe member flipped him off. 

“She left.” He finally said. 

Feitan hadn’t been able to get your hurt expression out of his head, the tears shimmering in your eyes. He had never seen you cry before, or at least not because of him. He had gone too far. 

He had just been so enraged, seeing you pushed up against the wall by someone who wasn’t him. And then you had let out the sexiest sound he had ever heard, as if you were enjoying yourself, and he had lost it. He hadn’t meant to take it out on you--he never did. But that’s always what seemed to happen. 

“What did you do?” Phinks said in annoyance. Phinks and Shalnark had been trying to get Feitan to confess to liking you for years, and had eventually resorted to getting him blackout drunk. Shalnark had pretended to boast about seducing you, and Feitan had gone nuts. That was all the confirmation they needed. 

Since then, they had both tried to get him to confess to you, or at least not act like he hated you. But the issue was, Feitan wasn’t going to be weak over some girl. He wouldn’t allow you to take priority over the other good things in life, like torture, murder, and stealing. Caring about someone meant putting yourself at risk for them, and Feitan wasn’t willing to make that sacrifice, not even for you. 

But damn, that dress. He had had to talk himself out of dragging you back inside and forcing you to change, so that no other person except for him would ever get to see you in it. Perhaps his feelings were purely physical; that would be perfectly normal. But it didn’t explain why he wanted to be with you all the time, or why he enjoyed how red your face got when you were pissed at him, or why he loved watching you get all animated while telling a story, even as he pretended not to listen. 

But this time he could tell that he had gone too far, and you weren’t going to forgive him easily. Shit. He hated the idea of apologizing, but he hated the idea of you ignoring him even more. Maybe this one time he would put his pride aside…

Feitan began to walk a little faster as they approached the Troupe’s hideout, but he froze as they entered the abandoned building. 

There was blood everywhere. It covered the floors and was splattered along the walls, as if a major fight had gone down. In the center of the gore was a black screen. 

Machi emerged from behind some of the rubble, her eyes dark as she approached. “I just got back, but it looks like this was the work of one of the syndicates. I don’t know how they found our hideout though, or why they’d come when it was empty.”

“Where’s Y/n.” Feitan’s voice was soft, fury dripping from every word. Maybe she hadn’t come back to the hideout. Maybe she would be walking through the doors soon with Chrollo, and Feitan could apologize. 

As if in response to his question, the black screen flickered, and footage of a grey, concrete room appeared. In front of the camera was a familiar young man, and Feitan’s mind went blank. 

“I’m assuming that you’ve returned to your base by now,” Teika Rubin grinned, adjusting the camera. “I hope so, because this is live footage and you’ll miss the show!” 

The rest of the Troupe members had gathered around the screen at the center of the room, silently assessing as Teika stepped back...to reveal you.

You were tied to a chair and blindfolded, but you wrenched violently on the bonds holding you. “You disgusting shithead,” you snarled, and Teika backhanded you across the face. 

Feitan couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. 

Teika continued lightly, “As you can see, I have your lovely member here with me, and we’re going to be spending some quality time together. If you want her back, you will return my money.” 

“How did they get her?” Nobunaga growled, fists clenching. 

“They must have some sort of tracking Nen user. Or--”

“Does it matter?” Feitan interrupted. “We go--” 

He froze as he watched Teika pick up a knife and drench it in a familiar amber liquid. It was an extremely rare mix that Feitan had used on a number of occasions with tricky patients, and it always got them talking almost instantly. The pain from a single drop was almost enough to knock someone unconscious. Feitan had tried a bit on himself once out of curiosity, and even he had been surprised at how awful the experience was. 

Teika was smiling sadistically as he lifted your arm, pressing the knife against the skin of your wrist and sliding upward. Your scream was almost enough to make Feitan throw up as he watched you jerking against the hold of the chair. 

The short Troupe member had fantasized about hurting you a number of times, especially after Machi had accidentally let it slip about your masochist preferences. He had barely been able to keep his hand out of his pants for weeks after that, getting turned on every time he saw you. The number of times he had stood in front of your door in the middle of the night, wondering if he should just give in and fuck you, was almost ridiculous. But tying you to the bed, choking you until you cried, or whipping you until you were cumming everywhere was different from this. 

Feitan was literally shaking with fury, and he didn’t say a single word as he strode away, your screams still echoing behind him. 

“Where are you going?” Shalnark asked, but Feitan didn’t turn. 

“I get her back. Kill them.” 

No one stopped him. 

It didn’t take him long to track down where you were being kept. Chrollo had been keeping track of all the main syndicate bases, so it was just a matter of narrowing down which one the doomed heir would be using. The entire search took less than an hour, and then Feitan was headed down the hall, killing everyone in sight as he looked for you in the rooms. 

Teika was still talking to the camera when Feitan slammed into him--clearly he hadn’t expected to be found so easily. You were slumped in your chair, unconscious, and your arm was a bloody mess. 

Feitan was so angry that his Nen came almost instantly. “Pain packer,” he hissed, wrapping himself and you in powerful armour to protect against his attack. “Rising sun.”

The room erupted. 

-----

You woke as Feitan carried you through the molten hell that used to be the syndicate compound. All around you, you could hear the screams as people burned to death, but all you felt was a nice pleasant heat. 

“Fei?” You murmured, and you felt his arms tighten around you. 

“Here.” 

“I’m surprised you came,” you managed. 

“Tch.” He paused, and then he muttered, “I always come for you.” 

It wasn’t an apology, but you knew this was as close to one as he could handle. You relaxed against his chest. “Ok.” 

You closed your eyes, but you heard him from above you as he said, “Don’t walk away again.” 

It may have sounded blank and cold as always, but you could see the panic in his eyes at seeing you wounded. And by the heat of the sun around us, he had been utterly enraged that you’d been kidnapped. 

Perhaps you could forgive him after all. 

[phinksimp]

Hi 🥰 can i get some nsfw toxic relationship hcs?

and thank you for providing us phinks simps with content 🥺🥺🥺

Thank you so much for the request!  I hate to admit it, but I love all forms of Phinks...even toxic ><.  I always write him as a big softie, so this was a fun change of pace!

----------------------------------------------

Phinks x Fem!Reader

18+ NSFW

Trigger Warning:  Emotional abuse, sexual abuse, extreme jealousy, NTR, Smut, Dubious consent (dubcon)

You sat cross legged on your bed in front of your laptop.  You laughed as you looked into the webcam, your earphones making you oblivious to the man who had just entered your room.

Phinks raised his brow bone when he saw you.  He had been curious as to why you hadn’t replied to any of his text messages in the last 15 minutes, and why you weren’t there to greet him when he came home.  

What the hell is going on here?

The blonde man cleared his throat to get your attention, but to no avail.  

“HEY.”

You shot up immediately, waving a hand at Phinks while smiling nervously at the camera.  “Hey, sorry. Something urgent just came up!  I gotta go, but just message me when you find any articles and I’ll check them out.  Bye!”  The sound of your laptop closing made Phinks’ eye twitch.

“Phinks!”  You jumped off of your bed, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.  “I had no idea you were coming home so soon!”  You looked up at him lovingly, your smile dropping when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“Well, you would have known if you answered my texts.  You didn’t have 10 seconds to text me back?”  He then eyed your laptop.  “What the fuck were you doing, Y/N?”  He pushed your arms off of him as he made his way to your bed.

You rolled your eyes as you followed after him.  You knew Phinks was impossible to talk to when he had these “fits”, but it didn’t stop you from trying.  “I had a meeting with my classmate Paul for a school project.  He’s going to be doing most of the research, so he just wanted to go over some things with me.” You fought a sigh from escaping your mouth as you stood beside Phinks.  

He...

You wouldn’t dare tell Phinks that Paul had confessed his feelings to you a few weeks ago.  He was sweet, attractive, and successful, but you had no interest in him at all.  You let him down easy, but you could tell that Paul wasn’t the type to give up.  You knew it wasn’t coincidence that you two ended up on a project together as Paul was extremely liked by your professor.

Phinks opened your laptop and began to scroll through your chat with your Paul, his eyes carefully scanning each message for any hidden meanings.  “So, you chose your classmate over me?”

You leaned your head towards him, unsure if you had heard him right.  “Sorry?”  

“You didn’t reply to my texts because you were talking with your classmate instead?  Y/N, do you even remember who bought you this laptop?”  He scanned your classmate’s name one more time before slamming the laptop shut.

Your heart began to race.  While you were shorter than Phinks-- him standing over you like that made you feel even smaller than usual.  “You bought it for me, Phinks.”  You tried to find the words to appease him.  “And I’m so grate--”

“You’re not.  It’s like you don’t even love me.  If you loved me you would have replied to my texts right away.”  He turned his back towards you as he began to exit the room.

A small gasp escaped your mouth as your jaw dropped.  “What?!  Of course I love you!  What are you--”

Your blood ran cold when your phone went off.  

Phinks grabbed it immediately, flawlessly entering your 9 digit password.  The password he had created for you.

“Y/N!  Hope everything is okay, you seemed flustered when you left.  I’m here if you need to chat!”

It took every fiber of his being to hold himself back from crushing your phone in his hand right then and there.  He took a small breath before holding a finger down on the message and deleting it.

You nervously approached him, his silence making you even more nervous.  “Who was it, Phinks?”

Phinks smiled at you softly.  “Just a spam message.  Nothing important.”  He waved your phone in his hand as he continued to walk.  “I’ll be taking this for a bit.  You won’t need it while you’re making us dinner anyways.”

Before you could reply, Phinks turned around to look at you.  “You look like shit by the way.  Have you not been sleeping?”  He looked down at you, a smile of pity on his face as he examined you from head to toe.  “You’re lucky I choose to stay with you when I could be with anyone else if I really wanted to.  You should be thankful.”

You stood there dumbfounded.  He was right.  Phinks had ingrained into your head how much better he was than you.  You believed you’d never have anyone as good as Phinks if you lost him.

I can’t mess things up...

You quickly ran to the kitchen to prepare dinner, praying you had the ingredients to make a meal that would please Phinks.

Phinks laid on the couch with your phone in one hand and his in the other.  He read through a long message he had typed out before sending it to Shalnark.

This should teach her a lesson for being so fucking ungrateful.

The smell of spices filled the air as you carefully pulled out a casserole from the oven.  Phinks had once told you it was one of his favorite recipes of yours.  You had also prepared vegetables, a pasta salad, as well as a small cake for dessert.

“Dinner’s ready!”

You sat excitedly at the table, hoping the dinner would bring a smile to Phinks’ face.  

Phinks looked down at the table before grabbing his wallet.  “I’m going out to eat.  Don’t wait up for me.”

-----

You slowly lifted your head from your pillow, rubbing your swollen eyes from crying over the past few hours.  You blinked frivolously, a bright blue and white light illuminating the room.  

You screamed as Phinks made his way on top of you, the smell of alcohol filling your airways.  “Phinks!”  He bit down on your shoulder hard enough to make you yelp out in pain.  You tried to push him off but instead he pressed his weight down onto you even more, pulling your hair up as his mouth began to explore the area from your collar bone to your neck.  “You’re hurting me!  Phinks sto--”

Phinks jerked your hair up for you to look at him.  “What? You want me to stop?  If you make me stop then I’m going to go fuck someone else.  Is that what you want, Y/N?”  He pulled his phone out from his pocket, shoving his Contacts screen into your face.  “I could always call one of them.  Maybe they want this cock more than you do, Y/N?  Is that what you want me to do?”

You shook your head, the thought of Phinks making love to anyone else was enough to make you sick.  “No, that’s not what--”

He began to rip your clothes off, a wicked grin on his face.  “So you don’t want me to stop?” He took his own clothes off before following back on top of you, the grip on your wrist hard enough to make you believe it would snap.

“I...don’t want you to stop.”  

Phinks threw you off of the bed, pulling you up by your hair again so that you were now kneeling.  

You gagged as he shoved his cock into your mouth, its size making it hard for you to breathe.  He began to fuck your mouth relentlessly, the whiplash from his hips thrusting into your face while he pulled your head back was making you see stars.  You lost control of your mouth as your lips unshielded your teeth from Phinks’ member.  There was a small hope in you that the feeling of your teeth would make Phinks stop, but if anything-- it made him go even faster.

Your vision began to go black.  The wet sounds slowly replaced by the sound of blood rushing to your head.  

A hard slap on your face brought you back to reality as Phinks repositioned you once again.  You were now on all fours.  You turned to look back at Phinks, but screamed when he wrapped a thick piece of black cloth around your eyes.  “Phinks-- what are--”

He spanked you hard enough to make your back arch.  “Shut the fuck up, Y/N.  I’m so sick of you complaining.  I thought you wanted this?”  

You bit your lip, not wanting to anger him further.  “Yes, I--”  

You moaned loudly as you felt Phinks’ tongue against your entrance.  He had been with you enough times to know exactly how to get you off.  You continued to moan, his tongue dancing between your clit and your opening.  

Phinks squeezed your bottom as he continued to eat you out ravenously.  “You’re so fucking wet, Y/N.  You like this, don’t you?”  He spanked you once again, leaving several marks on your backside.

You nodded your head, feeling you were about to reach your climax.  “Phinks, please fuck me!”

You screamed as he spanked you again.  “You really think you deserve anything?  If you want my dick that bad, you’re going to have to do something for me.”  He inserted a finger into you, making your craving for his dick even worse.

“Anything, I’ll do anything!”  

Phinks grinned as he slowly began to finger you, the quivering of your walls letting him know how badly you needed his cock.

“Your classmate Paul.  Do you wanna fuck him?”

The question almost threw you out of the mood completely until Phinks began to finger you faster.  

“What?!  No!  I only want your cock, Phinks!”

Phinks entered another finger into you, his breathing growing heavier.  “Then say it.  Tell me you’d never fuck Paul.  That he’s a worthless piece of shit."  

Your desperation for release made you ignore how ridiculous Phinks was being. You tried to steady your breathing as Phinks continued to finger you, trying to remember what he wanted you to say. “I--would never fuck Paul!  He’s worthless.  A worthless piece of shit!”

Phinks’ other hand made its way around your throat.  “Good girl.  Is there anything else you want to say?”

You shuddered as you felt the tip of Phinks’ cock at your entrance.  You knew all it would take was for him to shove it into you to put you over the edge.

You were so close.

“Stop making me say his name or even imagine how disgusting his cock would be.  I only want you Phinks!  Please, please fuck me already!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your whole body buckled.  Phinks filled you completely, your jaw falling as a moan escaped from your mouth.  

Phinks continued to pound you, the swelling of his member signaling that he was close to finishing.

“Phinks...I...want your cum...”  You had already climaxed several times, and you could feel yourself starting to pass out.

Phinks leaned down to kiss your neck as his breathing grew heavy.  “Then I need you to do one more thing for me.”

You grinned, the tone of his voice making your temperature rise.  “Anything.”

He pulled himself out and stood so that he was now facing you.  

Phinks removed your blindfold with one hand as he continued to stroke his member with the other.

“Say hi to Paul.”

You gasped as the blindfold fell to the ground, your eyes meeting Paul’s in your laptop screen-- a horrified look on his face.

Before you could say a word, Phinks unloaded his cum-- the splashes of white landing in your mouth and around your eyes.

“Hi Paul.”

#phinks #phinksmagkav #phinksmagcub #hxh #phinkshc

[heavenlyakin]

masterlists

🌹 Hunter x Hunter

Mine: Phinks x Fem!Reader NSFW

Tug of War: Pariston x Reader NSFW

🌹 Chainsaw Man

Somewhere Between: Aki x Reader SFW

🌹 Haikyuu

Dip You In Honey: Atsumu x Fem!Reader NSFW

Starboy: Atsumu x Fem!Reader SFW

Starboy Pt 2: Atsumu x Fem!Reader NSFW

Illicit Affairs: Vampire!Atsumu x Fem!Reader NSFW

too sweet - atsumu x reader fluff

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat SFW Atsumu Miya x reader

🌹 Attack on Titan

Chemist on Campus: Reiner x Fem!Reader NSFW

Island Time: Reiner x Fem!Reader NSFW

🌹Bluelock

Keep Driving: Itoshi Rin x Fem!reader NSFW

You Bring Me Home: Nagi x Fem!reader SFW

It’s Comin’ Down: Chigiri x fem!Reader SFW

Unread: Mikage Reo x fem!reader NSFW

Tinder Series 1: Rin Itoshi NSFW

🌹JJK

Freedom Ain’t Nothin’ But Missin’ You: Geto Suguru x Reader NSFW

Somebody Else - Series Masterlist

Labour - Suguru Geto x Fem! Reader DC

call it what you want - suguru x reader

🌹 Twisted Wonderland

untitled blowjob, Rook Hunt x fem!Reader NSFW

untitled knife play, Rook Hunt x fem!Reader NSFW

🌹Demon Slayer

untitled rengoku angst

untitled meet-cute Rengoku x Reader

cherries in the spring rengoku x reader

one little word nsfw rengoku x reader

like lilies sfw rengoku x reader

untitled sanemi smut

burning for you rengoku smut

🌹Black Clover

meeting nozel, arranged marriage au SFW

winter nozel x fem reader SFW

snowed in nozel x fem reader SFW

warm bath nozel x fem reader NSFW