#reader x illumi

[cat3ch1sm]

hii! could i request hcs about illumi's fiancé meeting the zoldycks? something along the lines of her being expected to be the next lady of the house and getting used to the mansion's lifestyle (having butlers, being secluded on a mountain, having the entire family living together)? it would also be nice to see her getting along with the little siblings (killua, kalluto, and alluka)

sorry if i left out any necessary details in this request :(

~✰♡✰♡✰~ hellooo! thanks for ur request :)) haven���t written for hxh in a little while so im happy to write this for you and our favorite bug-eyed assassin :3 if you’re ever unsure about what info to put in a request, just visit the pinned post! ily 💚

fem!reader

𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜é 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤𝐬

illumi isn’t close with his family in the same sense that normal people are close with their families, but nonetheless he feels the need to inform them of major developments in his life. through a letter he tells his family of his engagement, and says that he is going to bring you to his home to see them all.

silva is indifferent, and zeno couldn’t care less, but kikyo is ecstatic that her illumi is finally going to marry someone- and that it isn’t that awful clown hisoka. she’d been seriously concerned for a second there. but she rounds up all the members of her family to be present on the day of your arrival (using excessive force because nobody really wanted to come besides alluka, who was only allowed to meet you because killua threatened to not show up unless alluka was permitted as well).

when you and illumi first arrive after the lengthy trip up the mountain, you are greeted by butlers gotoh and canary, whose presence startles you. you were aware of illumi’s great wealth and status, but it was certainly different from how you’d grown up. just getting inside the actual home is a process- illumi’s strength slightly freaking you out when he pushes open four of the doors to the entrance of the mansion without breaking a sweat and then encountering Mike, the Zoldycks’ monstrous dog. illumi does notice your apprehension, though, and plainly assures you that the dog won’t harm anybody it isn’t supposed to. you’re still visibly nervous, though, so illumi has you come closer to him and hold on to his arm. regardless, you realize it may be tougher to settle in than you thought.

at last, though, illumi brings you to his family. nobody reacts much outwardly to your presence, but you notice a white-haired boy with catlike eyes observing you closely, his expression a mixture of suspicion and confusion. standing beside the boy are two other black haired children- one with short black hair standing somberly with his hands folded in front of him, and the other an eager blue-eyed girl whose gaze sparkles as she looks at you. the white haired boy stands right behind the blue-eyed child. the tall, blonde man with a large frame illumi tells you is Silva, his father, and the slightly shorter man with white hair beside him is illumi’s grandfather, zeno.

without warning, you feel thin arms thrown around you in an embrace, and you almost jump out of your skin. but when you are released, you see the woman that can only be your fiancés mother, the only member of the family illumi had warned told you about prior to the visit. kikyo wears a large dress with an ostentatious petticoat and hat, and most notably a visor over where her eyes would be with one red glowing dot. her appearance is unsettling, and you find it a little difficult to force a smile when she greets you. illumi watches you from the side of his eye, his face unreadable.

just as kikyo is pulling away, something gleaming and silver and large is thrown right at your head, whizzing right by kikyo’s hat and slicing off a single hair from the feather on her hat. you don’t hesitate to lift your hand to your face and catch the sword immediately, the blade slicing your hand- but you don’t flinch as the blood seeps onto the blade and down your arm. you tilt your head to the side to see your assailant is silva, his arm still poised in throwing position. his expression grows less stony once he sees you’ve caught his weapon.

there’s a moment of icy silence, you lowering the weapon to your side, and silva watches you even more intently before uttering a flat “welcome to the family.” with that, he and his father turn and disappear elsewhere inside the mansion. kikyo, though, takes this as her cue to immediately grab you so you two can walk by yourselves throughout the mansion. illumi doesn’t look super pleased to see his mother take you, but he knows better than to try and stop her.

you two are navigating the long, hollow corridors of the zoldyck home. you pass many unsettling family pictures and paintings as well as various weapons like swords and arrows on the walls, and several human sculptures that seem a little too realistic. you’re also sure that you pass at least two torture chambers. it’s an eerie atmosphere, which was what you’d expected, but it doesn’t help your nerves.

kikyo either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about your apprehension, and instead starts talking about how much she’s wanted a daughter and how thrilled she is to finally have a “daughter” to take in. but then she grows eerily serious. she talks about how you’ll be expected to be the next lady of the house and, since you’re becoming a zoldyck, how you’ll have to follow the same codes they do as a family and exhibit the same values- which makes you antsy. the woman clearly seems a bit unhinged. you’re relieved when the walk ends and you’re returned to your fiancé, who gestures for you to take his arm again. illumi’s mother’s mood changes drastically yet again and she storms off, shrieking to her husband that it’s rude for him to walk off after hardly having said anything.

now you and illumi are left with the four other children- the white-haired boy, the girl with long hair, the boy with short hair and purple-pink eyes, and a homely fat boy behind the three younger ones. he holds a small console in front of his face and doesn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence. illumi introduces them to you.

“y/n, i’d like you to meet my siblings,” illumi states in his usual manner, walking slowly towards them. gesturing to the white-haired boy, he says, “this is my brother, killua. i call him kil.” he looks down at his brother with an eerie smile and black eyes like pits, but killua keeps his stony gaze straight ahead. his hand rests on the shoulder of the girl in front of him.

“this is my youngest brother, kalluto,” illumi continues, placing a large hand on top of the boy’s head. his hands remain folded in front of him, and he gives you a polite nod. looking toward the fat boy behind kalluto, his expression slightly curling into one of disdain, illumi tells you, “and this is the second oldest, milluki.” milluki doesn’t acknowledge you at all, which seems to visibly irritate illumi, but he doesn’t reprimand the boy.

you’re confused when illumi doesn’t introduce the girl, and you glance up at him in confusion. “illumi, what about her?” you look down at the girl in front of killua, who looks surprised for a second, and so does killua behind her. “you forgot to tell me her name. she’s a beautiful little girl.” you manage a small smile, leaning down slightly to stroke the girl’s hair. her blue eyes sparkle with joy, and killua looks up at you as well, looking a little confused but also very relieved. “your mother said she had no daughters.”

illumi’s eyes lower ever so slightly, giving him a dismissive look. “she doesn’t,” he answers flatly, and his tone makes you feel like that’s the end of the discussion. you’re definitely lost- but you suppose it’s something illumi will have to fill you in on later. you glance sideways at illumi, hand still resting in the girl’s hair. she definitely doesn’t seem to mind you, and killua appears to have warmed up to you as well. milluki’s vanished elsewhere and kalluto watches the whole exchange from the corner of his eye.

suddenly you all hear kikyo call for illumi, who immediately stands up upon hearing his name. “you will remain here until i return.” he tells you, his tone no-nonsense, and heels clicking he makes his way down the dark hallway, leaving you alone with the kids.

the second illumi is out of earshot, the girl brightens up. “hi!” she chirps, bouncing on her feet excitedly. “my name is alluka!”

you’re slightly startled, but you smile at the girl anyway and tell her hi, still wondering why illumi seems so detached from this girl in particular.

killua seems to read your mind. “i know what you’re thinking,” he tells you, not unkindly. “listen, my family doesn’t like alluka much- and they refer to her with male pronouns. just go along with it in front of them. it’s safer for you.” he pauses, then looks down. “but thanks for being nice to her.”

you frown and nod, deciding not to ask any more questions about it. kalluto still hasn’t said anything, but somehow you don’t feel like this boy will be anything to worry about.

with alluka and killua having warmed up to you, you get into a conversation, and kalluto eventually offers a few words after awhile- although never acknowledging alluka directly. most of it is basically killua wondering how the hell you managed to get engaged to someone like illumi.

“No way he didn’t force you to go out with him.”

“What the hell do you even see in that guy? He’s batshit crazy- and he’s definitely not a model.”

“How’d he propose? Did he try to kill you and you survived?”

“‘Man, you really gotta be messed up for Illumi to like you.”

“What even made him wanna get married to you? What even made you wanna get married to him?”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“And you said yes? You’re crazy!”

that’s all i got :3 hope u enjoyed <33

[citrus-writing]

surrender to me

Thinking about how utterly humiliating it'd be to be forced to ride your yandere-

Tw: non-con, dub-con, extreme feelings of guilt and shame, reader is an active participant in their own assault 

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

It's bad enough when he pins you down to whatever surface is nearby, taking whatever he wants from you, forcing you to take whatever he gives you. It's bad enough that you're helpless to his advances, that he can so easily overpower you, use you like his own personal toy. It's bad enough that he fucks you so good, hitting that spot that has you nearly screaming, keeping up the relentless pace until your legs shake, and making sure you always cum at least once, though he always always tries for more.

It's worse when he pulls you on top of him. At least when you're underneath him you can say it's not your fault, that you have no hand in what happens to you.

But now, as you straddle his waist, his cock buried deep inside you, he tells you to "ride me, come on, just the way you like it" you feel shame wash over you. He's your kidnapper, he took everything from you, and now he wants you to be an active participant in your torment. Everything in your rebels against the idea, tells you to fight it, to hold onto your pride at any and all costs. But it's not like you have a choice, you know what disobeying him means- you've faced too many punishments to risk another.

Shame eats at you as you begin to move, hesitant and humiliated, but unwilling to disobey. You rock your hips, trying not to shutter with every drag of his length along your walls. You're so wet for him and you know he can tell. You close your eyes, you don't want to see the way he's looking at you, can't bare to see the adoration in his eyes when you fuck yourself on his cock and he can't help but whisper that you're "such a good girl for me".

You hate that it feels good, that even your leisurely pace is making you bite back moans and fight the urge to ride him harder, to make yourself cum, and to feel him cum too. He grabs your hips, guiding you to pick up the pace a little, and you curse that he knows exactly what you like. He knows just how to guide your movements to make you tremble and whimper as he fucks you, he knows exactly what will have you moaning and gushing around him. He knows exactly how to make you his perfect little whore.

It's too much- the absolute misery of the situation is more than you can bear. You're riding your kidnapper, moaning and crying out for him, feeling your orgasm creep up on you too fast. It’s humiliating in a way that nothing else can compare to, nothing he’s ever done to you has been quite so potently horrid. 

You can't tell if he's still forcing your hips into the rhythm or if you've given into it, can't really tell if he's thrusting up into you or if your just bouncing on his cock that hard- but you're so close, and he feels so good inside you, and you want to cum so bad. You should be fighting this, but you’re not. You’re rocking your hips against his and whining his name and begging for more. 

"Gonna cum?" He asks, voice a little bit teasing but mostly breathless at the way you move above him and the way you feel around him. He tells you all the time that he loves you, that you belong to him, that he’d do anything to keep you all to himself. In moments like this, it’s easy to believe that. You nod, desperate for release. "Go on, then,” he encourages, moving his hips against yours to meet you halfway as you move. 

You do- with a desperate cry of his name you feel your orgasm wash over you, crashing down on you and you can think of nothing else but his length filling you up, hitting so deep inside you and stretching you out so wide. It's so dirty; knowing you threw away all your morality and pride for this- you let yourself be used by man you should hate just so you could get off, you practically begged him for it. 

Because no matter how your mind tries to convince itself this isn't what you want, your body knows this is exactly what you want. 

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

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

Watching his fingers pump in and out of you after he’s stuff you full of their cum.

“Don’t you waste a single drop…”

He coos so softly, placing a kiss on your belly as he keeps your plump thighs open. Your pussy is gushing, you’re about to cum again!

“Ah… it’s coming out, I’m gonna have to fill you up again, aren’t I? We need to make sure it takes…”

And so he pressed the head of his cock against your pussy again. You already feel so full…

But he’s going to make sure you end up with a cute baby bump~

——————

|| GOJO|| GETO|| NANAMI|| CHOSO|| TOJI|| KAEYA|| AVENTURINE|| DILUC|| SCARA|| RENGOKU|| SANEMI|| KURAPIKA|| ILLUMI|| CHROLLO

[attackurheart88]

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really love me?”

“Yes.”

"Do you really really love me?”

They stop what they’re doing and turn to look at you. An audible sigh is heard.

“If I come over there and kiss you until your lips fall off will you shut up?”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Daytrip.

Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x Reader (Hunter x Hunter).

Word Count: 5.6k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Captivity, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Animal Death, Semi-Public Sex, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Isolation, and Stalking.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was, per usual, Illumi’s face.

His dark eyes wide and unblinking, his skin bloodlessly pale, his lips pulled into a thin, neutral line – and all of it no more than three inches away. You were too numb to his off-putting proximity to scream, but you flinched back into your pillow on instinct, and Illumi took the hint, lingering for another half second longer before drawing back. A few months ago, you might’ve scrambled away, barricaded yourself in the smallest corner of your lavish bedroom, but now, you only rolled onto your side, regarding him with the same exhausted resignation that you used to pay to your cat, when she woke you up three hours early for no other reason than her own selfish desire not to spend the small hours of the morning alone.

“What’s up?”

It might’ve been a little too casual of a greeting for your kidnapper, but he didn’t seem to mind. “There are clothes waiting for you on your vanity. The butlers will help you dress as soon as possible.”

 So this was going to be an out-of-bed thing, after all. Reluctantly, you started pushing yourself up. “Are we in a hurry for a reason, or…?”

There was a brief moment of consideration, then a resolute nod from Illumi. You let out an inward sigh. “Okay, whatever, that’s my fault. Why are we in a rush, ‘lumi?”

“I have something planned for the two of us.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought you saw his expression light up. “A daytrip, I believe.” And then, as if as an afterthought, “I’m very excited.”

Illumi’s excitement was normally something you tried to avoid, but your mind seemed to glaze over that and settle on the word ‘daytrip’ instead. Daytrips meant traveling. Daytrips meant activities.

Most pressingly, daytrips meant getting to leave the empty, lifeless, murderer-infested wasteland that was his family’s estate for the first time since he carried you through its gates. You knew better than to say that in as many words, though.

“And for this daytrip, we’ll be going…” You trailed off, gesturing in the direction you felt most strongly would lead back to civilization. “…out there?”

“We’ll be leaving the mountain, yes.”

“And we’ll be going place where other people are?”

“I suppose so, if it can’t be avoided.”

“And your family wasn’t involved with this at all?”

“They don’t think it’s right for you to be given so much freedom so quickly,” he explained. “I disagree. Even well-trained dogs have to be walked.”

For the first time ever, you had to resist the urge to kiss him.

Instead, you only let yourself smile, casting your sheets aside and settling for a brief but bone-crushing hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You pulled away abruptly, sliding off of the mattress. “I—I’ll get dressed!”

Illumi didn’t move, didn’t react, but his eyes followed you as you stumbled across the room – happier than you’d been in months.

~

A little less than an hour later, you were spread across Illumi’s lap in the back of a surprisingly conspicuous black car, the divider raised to block a faceless driver from view. It took a concerted amount of effort to keep your attention on anything but the window, but you managed, only sparing the occasional glance towards the passing scenery.

You watched the mountainside spiral downward as Illumi’s hands settled around your waist, measuring the widening gaps between dense patches of forestry as his mouth ghosted over the side of your neck. It’d always surprised you – how tactile he was, how someone so cold could be so fond of peppering feather-light kisses into your collarbones and groping at your thighs. It’d been weeks since the last time you tried to brush off his affection. As far as you were concerned, there were worse things he could do to you than mimic the behavior of a more conventional boyfriend.

(At some point, you’d come to think of Illumi as the unclimbable, unmovable, twenty-foot-tall wall that separated you from freedom. You didn’t like him, sure, but you had to recognize that on your own, you had no chance of getting past, over, or around him. If something happened to render him a little weaker, a little less tall, a little more susceptible to opening his gates, then things might change, but you couldn’t rely on elusive possibilities. The way you saw it, you could either waste your time trying to overcome an insurmountable obstacle, or you could save your energy and try to make things as pleasant on this side of the wall as was humanly possible, given your below-standard working conditions. Until you met someone willing to offer you a ladder, at least.)

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and your eyes flitted back to the window. You were passing buildings, now – houses and apartments, people dotted in front of them blurred mannequins. “Can you tell me where we’re going, or am I not supposed to know?”

He seemed to think for a second, but answered quickly enough. “Brunch, first,” he said, not bothering to pull away from you. “The rest is a surprise.”

You pursed your lips. You used to like surprises, but Illumi had managed to change a lot of things about you. “Is ‘the rest’ something I’ll like?”

 “It’s something you’ve been known to enjoy.”

It took everything you had not to roll your eyes. You’d been ‘known to enjoy’ a lot of things, most of which Illumi had taken away from you.

There was one more open-mouthed kiss pressed into your collarbone, one more stolen glance of the outside world, and then, the vehicle was easing to a steady halt in front of a rustic, almost quaint building. A café, you realized, as Illumi stepped out in front of you, holding the door open while you stared wide-eyed at the perfectly idyllic, perfectly normal restaurant. The cute type, with a triangular roof and a greenery-laden front porch and chipped paint on either side of the front door.

Subconsciously, some part of you must’ve decided that you’d never see anything more charming or more homey than the lifeless grounds of Illumi’s estate again. You opted not to linger on that, as you stepped out of the car.

The interior was similarly fairytale-esque. There weren’t any other customers or wait-staff, which you’d expected, but string lights hung from the rafters, fresh wildflowers sitting in pitchers on each table. Illumi let you choose where to sit, and you shot for a spot closest to the front windows – bay-style and freshly cleaned, the kind of thing you might’ve stared longingly out of while nursing an overpriced latte for the better part of an hour. Suit-clad butlers stood guard on either side of the door, but if you were lucky, you’d still be able to catch the occasional pedestrian walking by. You would’ve given anything to sit in a room filled to bursting with other people, but since you couldn’t have that, you’d settle for being able to watch a handful from a distance.

“You’re staring.”

“So?” You responded to Illumi without looking away. “You stare at me all the time.”

“That’s different. I have a reason to look at you.”

“Which is?”

“I love you.”

It might’ve been easier to believe if he hadn’t said it with all the warmth and all the affection of a corpse, already given time to cool.

You changed the topic swiftly.

“It’s a little nostalgic, honestly. I used to come to places like this all the time, especially before I made any friends in the city. It was nice to feel lonely in a aloof-and-mysterious kind of way, instead of an anti-social-and-depressed sort of way.”

“Oh, you were never really alone.” You didn’t say anything, but you made the mistake of shifting your gaze onto him, of spurring him forward with the reward of your attention. “It was a guilty pleasure of mine – spending time with you before we met. I preferred it when you sat outside. It was easier to smell your perfume, in the open air.”

You grit your teeth. It wasn’t the most disturbing thing he’d ever admitted, but it definitely made the list. “…I think I would’ve remembered sitting next to someone like you.”

If he’d been more expressive, you could’ve imagined him smirking. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

There was a brief lapse, a moment of uncertainty on your part. Finally, you asked, “Did I smell… nice?”

“Very.” Illumi didn’t share your sense of trepidation. “Like cinnamon.”

You hummed, and as if by magic, a waitress appeared from the door to an unseen kitchen – white knuckling her pen with one hand and driving her nails into her notepad with the other. She took your orders with a terrified sort of professionalism, and before you left, you convinced Illumi to give you all the cash he was carrying at the moment (a sum that easily added up to half a year’s worth of rent, handed over without so much as a passing question) and left it on the table for her to find.

~

Your second stop was as surprising as Illumi had promised. If anything, he’d undersold it.

If the quaintness of the café had been enough to throw you into a stupor, then the sheer scale of the building in front of you could’ve sent you to an early grave. A mall – a nice mall, either recently built or nestled so far into the upper-class shopping district that you never would’ve come across it organically, the type with glass where there should’ve been walls and a fountain without any coins at the bottom. You were tempted to try and pester loose change off of one of the butlers flanking you, but decided against it. The café, you could’ve stumbled into on your own, without Illumi’s intervention. It just didn’t feel right to leave a mark where you so obviously didn’t belong.

More similarly to the café, though, the inside of the shopping complex was startlingly empty. Butlers and hired security were posed in front of exits, but other than that, it wasn’t hard to believe that you and Illumi were the only people on the property. As soon as you were past the initial entryway, you ducked into the closest store – a high-end cosmetics retailer. The door was unlocked, but there was no cashier at the register. Like someone had already come through and cleared it out.

“This is some backrooms shit,” you mumbled to yourself, and then, to Illumi, ever-hovering just over your shoulder. “You didn’t… you know, do what you normally do to people you don’t like, right?”

“Are you asking me if I killed everyone in this shopping complex prior to our arrival?”

“Well, not everyone,” you clarified. “Maybe just the employees?”

He didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth turned ever-so-slightly upward, as if you’d said something funny. “No, that would’ve taken far too much time.” The unnecessary loss of life went unacknowledged. “The building’s rented out, and the stock’s been purchased in advance. You’re only deciding what you’d like to keep.”

Huh.

One day, you were going to sit him down and have a long, long talk about class privilege and resource waste. If you were feeling generous, you might even throw generational wealth onto the lecture, just to make sure he got the full picture.

One day, but not today.

“The third floor always has the best stores,” you said, turning on your heel and grabbing Illumi’s hand, too distracted to think anything of the gesture. “Let’s start there.”

You weaved in and out of stores with reckless abandon, hyper-aware that you had no one’s time to waste but your own. Essentials were overlooked entirely, makeup and self-care supplies limited to eyeshadow pallets with no less than several dozen eye bleeding colors and bath-bombs that were more glitter than pigment, and clothes made up the bulk of your adoration. Everything that wasn’t in your size had already been removed – something as worrying as it was convenient. The only thing you refused to try on was loungewear. It would’ve been practical, sure, but you didn’t need to be reminded that this was likely the last time you’d ever leave Illumi’s sprawling home.

“You know,” you called from a dressing room, pulling a gingham dress over your head. You couldn’t see Illumi, but you were sure he wasn’t far. He didn’t seem to have much of an interest in shopping, but his favorite hobby was looming over your shoulder like some blank-eyed, haphazardly domesticated bird of prey, so it balanced out. “If this had been our first date, I probably would’ve married you.

You heard him hum as a weight settled against the dressing room door. “I enjoyed our first date. It was endearing – how long you rested your head in my lap.”

“Well, yeah. The paralytics you used were so strong, I couldn’t move for three days.” You’d still lose feeling in your left arm, if you held it at the wrong angle. It reminded you a little of your cat, after she first came around to the idea of sitting in your lap. You’d been so afraid of scaring her off, you’d let your legs fall asleep before you so much as thought about moving her. “I just meant that the whole ‘kidnapping’ thing probably wouldn’t have been necessary, y’know? I wasn’t exactly in a place to be picky when it came to creepy rich men.”

There was a brief lapse of silence, and you finally managed to drag the bodice of the dress into place. “I never considered that.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you to hear that Illumi wasn’t the dating type, and yet, you let out a breath of a laugh. “You never thought about asking me out? Not even once?”

“…no, I didn’t.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded shy. “It was hard to be practical. I was distracted. You were perfect, and contained, and I thought touching you would be—” For the first time, his voice seemed to dip, to grow just a little quieter. “—vulgar. It would’ve changed you, to know I was there.”

The skirt was layered, and you bit back the urge to curse as you smoothed over the layers of cotton and lace. “I think being abducted might’ve changed me, too.”

“It was the better option. Something would’ve fallen out of place eventually, but like this, I could save you. Only your environment had to be altered.”

He made it sound like he’d sealed you behind glass, rather than underneath a mansion occupied by the world’s most dangerous killers. You’d known better than to hope he’d be able to come up with a selfless reason for your prolonged captivity, but still. Hearing that you were miserable because he needed a ballerina to decorate his music box with stung more than you would’ve liked to admit.

“…it’s unlocked. You can come in, if you want.” Immediately, you heard the dressing room door creak open, and turned your attention towards your reflection. Out of the countless you’d tried on, there was a reason you’d saved this dress for last. You used to fantasize about being able to afford something so wonderfully needless, something you wouldn’t have had to justify with things as joyless as ‘function’ and ‘practicality’. Even now, the puffiness of the sleeves and the lace detailing around the collar and the tiny, almost impossible-to-see hearts printed onto the checked pattern felt exorbitant – borderline garish. You still didn’t have any reason to wear it, any place you could’ve gone to show it off, but then again, you didn’t have much of a reason to do much of anything when you were with Illumi. You guessed, in a roundabout kind of way, that meant you got to do whatever you wanted to.

Illumi came to stand behind you, and you leaned back, kissing his cheek gingerly. “I’ll add it to the pile. Thanks for this, ‘lumi.”

His hands found their way to your hips, settling there as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Keep it on. It suits you.”

You tried to laugh, but fell short – your smile falling into something more strained. You really shouldn’t have said anything, but you were talking before you could stop yourself, before you could think better of it. “The cinnamon,” you started, speaking against the dryness in your throat. “When I first moved to the city, the only apartment I could afford was flat above a bakery. The ventilation was awful, and the landlord was impossible to get a hold of, and everything I owned smelled like sugar and cinnamon and bread. I couldn’t touch anything sweet for months, after I moved out.”

It was all you could do to bite down on your tongue and force yourself to stop, to shut up, to remember who you were talking to. Illumi’s response was less dramatic – as instantaneous as it was muted.

“How fitting,” he said, with a chime of a laugh. “Sweet things belong in sweet places.”

…

You could only be mad at yourself, really. What else were expecting? It wasn’t like he was going to get down on his knees and apologize, for fuck’s sake.

You sighed, melting into Illumi’s chest. Of course, he welcomed you with open arms.

~

You didn’t end up keeping any other dresses. A few other articles of clothing, a couple pairs of shoes, a small fortune’s worth of little luxuries that’d help you pass the time when you were returned, kicking and screaming, to solitary confinement, but no dresses. Well, aside from the one you were wearing, of course.

It wasn’t long before Illumi started gently ushering you to the nearest exit, and already thoroughly defeated, you didn’t try to resist. You only got distracted once on your way out, and not for very long. Illumi made sure of that.

It was kiosk-type stand – the glass cabinets filled with high-end pet toys and animal-themed tchotchkes. You couldn’t stop yourself, gasping as you broke away from Illumi and darted to the first thing that caught your eye: a bright pink collar with silver spikes, adorable and cliché and so, so cute. It was clearly meant for a dog, but it could’ve fit a cat. Or, you probably would’ve tried to make it fit a cat, rather.  

Illumi appeared at your side, as always, and you started talking without looking up. “I’m sorry, I know we’re in a rush, but it just—” You paused, trying and failing to bite back a smile. “I had this cat before you took me – her name was Ghost. She used to be the neighborhood stray, but she was getting pretty old, and I think other cats were picking on her. Eventually, I just started letting her in, and after a while, she stopped leaving. She would’ve hated something like this.” You held up the collar, gesturing dismissively before forcing yourself to set it back down. “She never really liked me. Whoever took her in shouldn’t have had too much trouble winning her over, after I disappeared.”

“Ghost,” he repeated. “Was she a black cat?”

“Yeah, that’s where her name came from. I couldn’t see her at all at night, and she could knock over anything that wasn’t nailed down. It was like living with a poltergeist.”

“She’s dead.”

You felt something small and vital tear open and start to bleed. “…excuse me?”

“You two were quite close. Had she been given the time, she would’ve woken you up the night I came to get you. I didn’t want that.” It took an embarrassing amount of time for you to make the connection, to form the link, to realize why the pain in your chest was quickly becoming so unbearable. “We can get another, if you’re upset. As a couple.”

The shock was numb, if there was any shock to be had at all. “It’s fine,” you managed, eventually, and despite the strain behind your voice, Illumi didn’t argue.

Instead, he glanced towards the nearest glass wall, to where the sun was just beginning to set over the horizon. “We should go.”

“I didn’t realize we were on a schedule.”

“You weren’t supposed to. I told you earlier – the last stop is a surprise.” This time, he was the one to take your hand, squeezing gently as he laced his fingers with yours.

It might’ve been a nice gesture, if his touch hadn’t been cold enough to burn.

~

You weren’t really sure what the third and final stop was supposed to be, at first.

An old sort of a dream knotted and coiled in your chest as his driver ferried you out of the city, metropolis shuttering into mountain backwoods. You’d never really been afraid of Illumi killing you (not when there were so many things that were so, so much worse than death), but as the car eased to a stop on the side of single-lane road, it was hard to imagine why else he would’ve taken you so far from the nearest scrap of civilization, another reason for him to wear such a bright expression as he ushered you outside - the most impatient he’d been all day. It wasn’t until you saw the trailhead – unmarked save for a wooden post and break in the foliage – that you started to relax.

“Oh,” you mumbled, your relief audible. “I’m not really dressed for hiking, ‘lumi.”

“It isn’t far.” And then, taking your hand in his, “I can carry you.”

It sounded more like a matter-of-fact statement than an offer, but you shook your head, edging forward. He was right, in the end. It couldn’t have been more than half a mile of level ground, Illumi holding your hand all the while. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed outside on Illumi’s estate, but you spent so much time in the woods that surrounded his mansion and his mother’s gardens – it would’ve been impossible not to go numb to the absence of bird song, the treacherous slope of his mountain, how little sunlight managed to break through the dense canopy of tangled branches and leaves that seemed to lie a little closer to black than green. It was nice to be somewhere else, somewhere with humming insects and a gentleness to the landscape and just enough dappled sunlight to make you forget who you were with. You kept your head on a swivel, quietly eager to soak in as much of it as you could. If you were lucky, you’d actually get to see some life – a deer, or a wildcat, or—

Something caught in your throat, and your head lulled forward, eyes dropping to your feet. You stared at the ground for the rest of the walk.

Your destination was, similarly, storybook levels of idyllic. The forest thinned and fell away entirely, breaking into a lake that stretched on as far as the eye could see and glittered pink in the light of the setting sun. Stretched over the lake’s shore was a blanket piled with platters of chocolate-covered fruit, breads and cheese, bottles of wine with a matching pair of glasses for each option – everything you might’ve once drunkenly listed off to a friend while fantasizing about your perfect, fairytale date. You glanced around you, looking for the butlers who must’ve only just finished setting up, but Illumi was quick to call your attention back to him. You felt him let go of your hand, your body shift before you could process why you were moving, and then, you were no longer on the ground; one of Illumi’s arms hooked under your knees and the other behind your back, your side pulled against his chest in an effortless bridal carry. You made a passing attempt to squirm, but Illumi didn’t seem to mind – keeping you tucked against him as he made his way to the only unoccupied corner of the blanket and all-but dropped to the ground, leaving you splayed across his lap and safely caged within his arms.  It was hard to tell if he was trying to be romantic in his own, blank, heartless sort of way, or if he’d simply decided you weren’t moving quickly enough. For your own sake, you leaned towards the former.

“It’s awful,” you muttered, and then, correcting yourself, “Not the picnic, I mean – that’s perfect. It’s just, I can never tell what you’re thinking.”

He seemed to consider that, for a moment. A chocolate-covered strawberry was plucked out of the nearest bowl and held to your lips, and to appease him, you bit into it. Your throat still felt too knotted for you to actually enjoy eating, but it was good to keep Illumi happy. “Most of the time, I think about you,” he admitted, any hint of shame absent from his voice. “It’s an issue. It doesn’t affect my work, but it’ll start to if left unchecked.”

He thought about you while cutting down innocent civilians. Great. “And you’re not going to fix that by drowning me in a lake, right?”

“No, I’m not.” Like your question, his answer was too sincere for comfort. The way his free hand toyed with the hem of your skirt did little to ease your nerves, either. “I’ve tried keeping an amount of distance between you and I, but that hasn’t yielded much progress either.”

If he’d ever tried to keep himself away from you, you hadn’t been able to tell. His hand slipped under your skirt properly, and you twisted, reaching for the neared wine bottle. “There’s so much food here, we should really—”

“It can wait.”

It was awful, just how even his voice was. For the first time, you were tempted to give him a reason to raise it.

You’d never resisted Illumi, but he’d never tried to—tried to do this, either. There’d always been an unspoken barrier when it came to sex – your resounding horror shadowed comfortable within his apparent disinterest. Now, though, he didn’t seem very disinterested, and your lingering terror was brushed neatly to the side as his fingers grazed over your thighs, your hip, before slipping underneath the thin, silken fabric. You wanted to thrash, to bolt, but you were suddenly unable to move; paralyzed save for the reflex to clench your legs shut and sink that much deeper into Illumi’s chest. The former was undone with only as much effort as it took him to ease your thighs apart with his knee, though, and the latter only seemed to bring a soft smile to his lips – just barely prominent enough to feel as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. If you���d been in your right mind, you might’ve thought to look for his butlers, to worry about passing hikers or concerned locals he wouldn’t think not to hurt, but Illumi had done his job well. It was impossible not to consider yourself wholly and entirely alone in the world, when you were with him.

He was less clinical than you would’ve expected. Illumi did most things with surgical precision, but touching you seemed to call for a more experimental skillset. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as his long fingers spread and explored underneath your panties, the tautness of the fabric ensuring that he always moved against you, rather than over or around. Undressing you never seemed to cross his mind; instead, his attention was trained on dragging the pad of his thumb over your clit, on using his ring and middle fingers to trace the slit of your cunt. You weren’t turned on – who could be, with their stoic kidnapper fondling them like a child learning to handle their first doll? – but your body and your mind were on two different tracks, one eager to make the best of a bad situation and the other too distraught to stop it. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself dripping around him, your arousal adding a damp heat to your already claustrophobic point of connection. Illumi hummed. “You’re sensitive.”

You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was drowned out by a hitched gasp as he thrust two digits inside of you with a wet click. “Tight, too,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly, immediately falling into a pattern of pumping and scissoring; spreading you open and pulling back only to fuck his fingers that much deeper. When he paused, it was only to curl against something particularly sensitive inside of you, to leave you shrinking that much further into his chest. “Is this uncomfortable?”

The practicality of the question caught you off-guard. You couldn’t call it considerate, but it was more than you’d expected, more than you ever would’ve hoped for. Unable to speak, you nodded furiously, and Illumi clicked his tongue. “You’ll be alright,” And then, slightly softer, “It couldn’t be any worse than what I had to deal with, waiting for you.”

There was no bitterness, no remorse, no pity; just Illumi’s cold rationality and the feeling of his palm grinding into your clit. The only warmth you could feel was the ghost of his breath on the side of your throat, the dip of your shoulder – not quite panting, but a world apart from his usual absence of expression. You tried to steel yourself, to think about anything aside from Illumi’s presence where it draped across you like a funeral shroud, but it’d been months since the last time you so much as thought about touching yourself, and for all his apathy, you could feel heat pooling in your core and recognize that your attempts to stave off the inevitable were only prolonging the insufferable. Still, it would’ve been impossible not to try and choke back your whimpers as that heat brewed and solidified into something more tense, something more breakable; as Illumi’s cheek pressed into the curve of your neck and his fingers curled against something soft and unprotected inside of you. Your climax was drawn out of you slowly, painfully, with a ragged whine in place of a moan. You kept your face buried in Illumi’s chest, your hands balled around the bodice of your dress. It felt like an eternity passed before it was over, before Illumi’s hand drew back, but no relief accompanied the distance.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hate Illumi for it, not really. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel much of anything. The only thing you could think, as hard as you tried not to think at all, was that you missed your dead cat.

It was pathetic, honestly. A sob tore past your lips as he pulled you away from his chest and lowered you onto your back, tears burning twin tracks down your face. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made you cry, and this shouldn’t have been your tipping point – not Ghost, not your awful shoebox apartment, not the fact that you could hear fabric tearing as he pulled your dress apart, too impatient to so much as consider a less destructive solution. You were in hysterics by the time he glanced up, the faintest possible frown coaxing the corners of his lips downward. “You’re crying.” And then, when your only response was another jagged cry, “Why?”

You opened your mouth, but only managed to force out another incoherent sob. Illumi softened, leaning over you, his dark hair forming a curtain that seemed to replace the rest of the world with unending void. Eventually, you managed to scrap up the only thing you could, even if it wasn’t what you really meant. “I—I want to go home, Illumi.”

He cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a sort of blank focus. A moment passed, then another, before his expression brightened. “Oh.”

He leaned down, and you felt his lips brush over your forehead. His smile bit into your skin like a blade.

“We will, love.” He pulled back. You heard fabric shift, felt something hot and terrible slot against your cunt. “Just not yet.”

 You moved to respond, but gave up quickly. His mouth crashed into yours as he thrust into you and your blood ran cold.

~

Later on, in the dark, things became bearable again. Illumi was cruel, psychotic, delusional, but he was dutiful, too, and with the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen reduced to scraps, he wrapped you in his jacket and gathered you in his arms. The picnic was untouched, the breath-taking view painted over by night. None of it mattered, of course. You were too exhausted to keep your eyes open, and a bottomless pit occupied the space your stomach used to. You wouldn’t mind going the rest of your life without taking anything of the filthy, unfeeling outside world inside of you ever again, but you knew better than to swear off eating because of Illumi. Or, at least, you hoped you’d know better in the morning.

You were only half-conscious of him pulling you against his chest and starting back into the forest, following the same path you had an eternity ago. It was a stupid question, but you found yourself asking anyway, your voice low and hoarse. “Are we… Are we going somewhere?”

“Of course.” Illumi bowed his head, kissing the top of yours. “We’re going home.”

He didn’t know he was lying, but he was. He might’ve been, but you weren’t.

Slowly and with no small amount of effort, you managed to nod, slumping against his chest. No sooner had you went slack in his arms than the final tether to consciousness thinned and fell away, leaving you to be consumed by the darkness.

[chrollc]

“You look like you’re about to kill someone.”

PRINT AVAILABLE.

[quimichi]

¡! ❞ MAKING OUT WITH HXH GUYS

warnings: NSFW - MDNI, Ging Freecs, this man needs his own tw, kissing, making out, pet names, teasing, yeah i think thats it?

summary: Making out with hxh guys

characters: HxH guys x F!Reader + Neferpitou (they/them) dunno where to put that creature

word count: 5.940

a/n: any character you want added? Tell me lol

Chrollo

Chrollo is kissing you with a passion that borders on fervent. His hands touch the curves of your face— as if trying to memorize how you feel under his skin. He wants to memorize your smell, how each of your curves and dip fits against him.

His tongue sweeps along your lips, desperate for more. Chrollo is craving you; craving the sensation of your skin against his. Chrollo's hands slide down your chest and to your thighs, pulling you even closer against him, his touch insistent and demanding. He pulls back and gazes at you, his hand tilting your chin so that you're looking up at him. His eyes are dilated, almost completely black, and his voice is ragged as he speaks.

"Don't look away from me," he murmurs. "Your eyes. Let me see them. I need to see you." His mouth is on your neck, his hands roaming over your skin. He's desperate. His tongue follows the path of his lips, tasting the air with a fervour that borders on the needy. He lets out a ragged exhale that turns into a moan against your flesh.

"You're mine," he groans. "You're perfect. You're mine."

Dalzollene

Dalzollene is pressed against your body, hands at your hips. His head dips to kiss you, lips trailing across your jaw and down the column of your throat. "You're so good to me," he murmurs between pecks and kisses. "Good," he repeats. He presses closer against you, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. Dalzollene's body presses hard against yours, pushing you back against the wall. One of his hands leaves your hips to come up under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach.

His other hand grips your hip, holding you in place. His lips find your sensitive point just under your jaw, and he nips you there. "My good girl." He says, as though he means it. "Gods, you're good to me." His kisses are hot, almost feverish, against your skin as his lips dance and suck to a new spot after just leaving the last. One hand grabs your hip tighter, pinning you to the wall behind you. The other slides down your chest and stomach, leaving fire in every place his fingertips graze you. "You're gonna make me weak if you keep being so good to me," he rasped against your neck. "Oh, you're so goddamn good to me." Dalzollene nips the soft flesh of your collarbone.

Feitan

"Ouch-!" Feitan lets out a soft laugh against your lips. His teeth nip at your skin, taking the tiniest tastes of you, relishing in the sweet moan that escapes your throat as he does so. His hand curls around your cheek, fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

"You are delicious," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "I could feast on you for eternity." Feitan's hand slides back to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He tugs, pulling your head back and baring your neck for him. He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Who do you belong to?" He whispers, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. "Say it. Let me hear those sweet little words." His hand continues to grasp at you, as if he cannot get enough of your touch. His teeth graze against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along the line of your pulse. "Whose are you?" He breathes, his voice as soft and sweet as honey. "Tell me. Who do you belong to? Answer me. I will have my name on your hips, your back, everywhere. I'll carve it into you."

Ging

"Watch my-?" Ging stutters before cutting himself off, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He blinks once, twice, before letting out a soft, almost inaudible exhale of breath. "My tongue?" Ging pulls you against him. One of his arms wraps around your waist, bringing you right flush against him. Gings other hand slides lower, slipping down to your hip.

"You're a brat, aren't you? No one ever complained about my kisses, ever." He murmurs, smirking. "Probably cause you never ever kissed someone, ever." You mock him. "You've always been a brat." Ging lets out a quiet laugh.

He tugs his hand from your hair, coming to rest it on your hip instead; his grip tightens ever-so-slightly. The hand at your stomach begins to rise, creeping just beneath the edge of your shirt. His hand slides higher, fingertips brushing against your skin, just shy of the waistband of your pants. Ging lets your ear fall against the crook of his neck, the action bringing you even more closely against him than you were a moment ago— it's as though he's attempting to meld the two of you together like an experiment.

He grins. "How long has it been since you've been on your best behaviour?"

Hanzo

Hanzo is a mess of kisses. He worships your lips like a shrine, he worships the curve of your neck, he worships the slope of your shoulders, the dip of your waist, everything. In a moment, he is a man drowning in an ocean of bliss— his body pressed against yours, his hands gripping you tight, holding you close to him.

The man is a kiss-soaked mess— his body a trembling mess, every kiss turning him to jelly. He holds onto you like he never wants to let go. "Did you ever-" but you were quickly shut down, "Never before." The answer comes in hushed, urgent tones. His hands trail over you like fire, tracing the curves and lines of your body like your skin is a map he wants to re-draw a thousand times.

"Never like this." His hands roam down your back. "Not with anyone like this." His words end on a gasp as his hand comes down to cup you, his touch possessive and almost reverent. It is a caress, but at the same time, it's claiming you.

"I have longed to touch you," he whispers, his words like a prayer. "To caress you… to hold you…" His words are like nothing he'd ever thought of before, but he seems to be spilling them without a care. It's as if he has been holding them back for years, and your touch has forced them out. For the first time, Hanzo is a man without a filter, no hesitation, no hesitance. "To touch you..." he murmurs, as he leans forward, pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck. "So desperately."

Hisoka

"Yes." He moans between kisses, arching up into you. He presses his body against yours, as close as two souls can be. Every kiss, every touch, only makes the fire inside him grow. His fingers, cold as moonlight, dance over your skin. His lips are soft, but his touch is hungry— he wants you, needs you, like a starving puppy that only a single meal will suffice. "Oh," he whispers against your lips, "OH~" he moans, "Mmm, yes, keep it coming." He lets out a shuddering breath. Hisoka's fingers dip into your hair and thread through the soft strands, grabbing the locks in a way that makes it hard for you escape from his hold.

"So good. You're so good, so—" He cuts off a moan, his breath hitching in anticipation of something. "Can you shut the fuck up, clown ass-" you blurt out.

Hisokas eyes gleam, sparkling like jewels as he looks up at you. He loves it when you take control like this. All those sounds he made before are nothing compared to his cocky grin now. "Mmm, make me," he responds, teasingly.

Hisoka's hand slides up your arm, all the way up and his fingers dig into your shoulder hard. His smirk is playful, but that look in his eyes… that's no joke. A low growl rolls past his lips. 

"I dare you," he teases. "Make me shut up."

Illumi

Kissing Illumis lips feels like kissing a statue. His body is rigid, like the very air around him has frozen. The only response you get from him is from the way he shudders against you, or from the soft sound that slips from his lips when your tongue touches against his.

The kiss feels as if it were frozen in time. Illumi is completely and utterly frozen. The only sign he makes of life in his body is his hands— they're resting on your shoulders, fingers curling and releasing.

Your lips part from his, it's pointless and in a way embarrassing for you to keep going. "Did you...ever made out before?" "No." His answer is simple. His fingers grip tighter against your shoulders, pulling you a little closer to him. The stiffness in his body grows to the point that you might believe he stopped breathing entirely.

"Mother has taught me." "WHAT?!" "She said that making out, or kissing is a waste of time and should not be part of the relationship process. It takes away too much time." "Ah-"

The little sound you make makes Illumi pause.

His fingers flex and loosen against your shoulders. He's tense, body frozen in place, when suddenly he pulls you a little tighter.  "Ah," he repeats, your single little sound is so perfect to his ears. Soft and breathy.

"Well, seems like you have to...teach me then."

Kite

"My everything." Kite's fingers trail along your jaw, over your lips, tracing the lines of your face. "My only love."  He buries his nose into your neck, breathes you in. "Please." He says, the word almost a whimper of desire.

"Please, don't ever jump so reckless into danger again." "...Promise." "I hope so." The corners of Kite's lips curl up into a slight, affectionate smile, but it's a shaky smile. He buries a hand into your silken hair and breathes against your throat.

"Promise me you'll run when i tell you to. You stay where you are when i tell you to. You do as i tell you to. We don't know what we might encounter in NGL."

"Good." Kite's entire body relaxed, a shudder coming over him as your word echoed through his mind. He breathed out against your skin, nuzzling into that sweet spot beneath your jaw. He closed his eyes, pressing his lips against you in a kiss, and again, and again. He wants to lose himself in you.

"Please, do as told and leave me behind if you must."

Knov

Knov's lips are as cold as his skin is warm. It's a strange sensation, one that seems both heavenly and sinful at once. His arms are wrapped around you as though he would never let go. There's an almost reverent expression on his face as his lips connect with yours, and his hands roam your body as if he is trying to prove to himself you're really there.

He kisses you. Deeply and passionately, as if he were starving and you were the first thing that wasn't ice in his mouth. Knov's lips are cold, his hands hot against your skin. He guides you closer to him, one arm curled around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, a stark contrast to the cold of his lips.

His other hand is buried in your hair, fingers tangled in your locks like a man who was desperate to touch you. "Gods, you're beautiful," he murmurs. Knov's eyes roam over you almost possessively, as though he wants to look at every inch of you. He's silent like this, for the first time in as long as you can remember. He's so focused, so intent on you, that he has forgotten how to hold a conversation. All of his attention is on you— your form, the way your hair bounces as you move, the way your clothes mould themselves against you— he's completely captivated.

When he finally does speak again, his voice is rough. Deep and husky.

"I've missed you."

Knuckle

"C-Chill out-!" Knuckle's reaction to that is quite a lot of things, most of them sinful, and you can't tell when he stops kissing you or when he pulls back. For a moment he just stares at you, eyes wide. "You-" he breaths. The words fail him, replaced by a soft, shaky exhale. For a moment he's too stunned to move, staring.

But then, you're pressed against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you as close to his body as humanly possible. He buries his face into your neck, pressing kisses to the skin. The way he kisses is desperate, desperate like a man starving in the desert. His breaths are hot against your skin, and his hands are gripping your waist, holding onto you so tightly he fears you might disappear.

"What as gotten into you." you chuckle lightly as his lips and hair tickle your skin. "You," he chokes out, his voice coming as a sharp gasp against your neck. His head lifts, and he kisses down the column of your neck, and you can hear the way he says "you" between kisses, and it sounds like a prayer, like a plea, like a vow. "You've gotten into me—"

Kurapika

"Feeling better?" You ask him, holding his face gently in your hands. "The world feels less cold," he admits. His hands come up to hold your face. He's never seen anything as precious as you before, and there is a sense of reverence in the way that he looks at you.

"I've never felt... whole." His fingertips trace the lines of your jaw. "I'm better now," he says, voice barely above a whisper. As he speaks, Kurapika's hands are still tracing the expanse of your cheek, the line of your jaw, the curve of your cheeks— as if he's memorising how it feels to finally touch you.

His eyes have softened when they look at you. The tension in his body seems to have left at last. "I'm better when I'm with you," he says. He kisses you. His lips are soft and warm against yours, the taste like sweet wine against your tongue, a heady mix of sweetness and intoxicating desire.

His arms are gentle as they wrap around your waist, drawing you closer still. As if your proximity isn't enough, he pulls you over so that you're sat atop  of him on his lap. His lips are hungry— a desperate need against your mouth as he kisses you over and over again.

Leorio

Leorio kisses back fiercely, lips pressing against yours fervently, tongue slipping past your lips. His hands slide up to cup your face, fingers tangling gently in your hair, cradling you against him as if he cannot get enough of you. He melts at your touch, breath leaving him in soft, shuddering gasps. He pulls back just slightly, only by millimeters— his lips just barely ghosting over your skin, his breath hot and needy and soft against your neck. Leorio swallows, lips parting slightly. The sound of his breath against your skin has an unmistakable undertone of need. He presses closer, pressing his body against yours, body shaking against you. Every breath he takes has his name falling from his lips.

"Gods," he gasps, voice a desperate whisper. "Bab…I don't know how much patience I have left."

He presses his lips between your collarbones, leaving soft, reverent kisses against smooth flesh. "I'm going crazy." You are making him absolutely unravel.

He murmurs your name as he presses kisses against your neck. He's whimpering now, a litany of praise against your skin like a desperate prayer. "Your- Gods, I need you-" His fingers clutch at your shirt, body trembling. "-I need to be closer to you."

The way he's shuddering against you is like a leaf in the wind. A shudder, a press, another kiss to your skin. "I'm going to break if I don't have you now."-

Menthuthuyoupi

"Wait-! Not so r-!" Menthuthuyoupi gasps, a low, startled sound that catches in his throat. He blinks down at you. "Not so rough?" His words are muffled against the soft plush of your lips, but the sound is clear. He pauses, lifting his head slightly— his lips barely leave yours, and he's still close enough that his body is flush against yours. His mouth brushes against your lips, the sound of his deep and gravelly voice rumbling from his chest.

He leans closer, his eyes still fixed on yours, and he murmurs. "Or not so loud?"

"Rough-!" "Yes." His breath is hot on your face, his tongue flicking out to trace your bottom lip, a slow, deliberate stroke of heat. A shudder runs through him as he pulls back just enough to speak. He tilts his head, and he looks up you. "You like that?" He tilts his head, his mouth only inches away from yours. A smirk pulls at his mouth, and he teases you in kind. "Rough." Menthuthuyoupis breath hitches against your ear. He shivers, his body taut with tension as his hand moves to the nape of your neck, fingers tightening against the soft skin.

"Rough." He murmurs once more, his voice barely a touch above a whisper. He pulls back slightly, and the look in his eyes is like a wildcat stalking its prey.

"You want rough." He repeats, as though it is the most obvious thing in the universe.

Meruem

His lips move against yours automatically. He kisses you with a sense of reverence so intense, you'd think you were worshipping a god in the shape of a man. Meruem's heart is in his throat. This is all he's ever dreamed of, all he's dreamed of since the day you first turned your eyes onto him. He kisses you like a dying man who is being reborn (literally). A man starving who cannot fathom having food, but here it is, right in front of him.

Just before you pull away, Meruem murmurs.

"Mine." His mouth curls up at that. He grins, but there's hunger behind his eyes, and something else too. A sense of possession. A deep, feral need to keep what is his and his alone. "Mine to devour," he agrees. "Mine to love. Mine to hold. Mine to eat if i so desire." Meruem kisses you again, this time more aggressively, as if he's trying to memorize every detail of your lips so that he will never forget the taste again. His hands, large and strong, come up to rest on your waist; his fingers dig into your body, claiming you as his with a possessive force that takes your breath.

He breaks the kiss, only to move back in, kissing you again and again. Each time, his embrace around you deepens, becomes harder. His breaths are becoming heavier.

"My Human tastes so good."

Morel

Morel is a man who is all restraint. He is meticulous, precise, and disciplined. He has a reputation as a hunter for his precise, deadly combat, but he has also been known to be a slow, almost deliberate lover.

His kiss against your mouth is slow and unhurried. When his lips part from yours, he pauses to gaze at you, as if you are a precious gemstone. Morel will look at you as if for the first time, even after months of seeing you. No matter how many times he's been in your presence, every look is like the first. His expression is always one of reverent awe. His hands are cool, soft, and steady. They rest against your face when he kisses you. He holds you close, like a flower held in a gentle breeze that will protect you from all the storms of the world. His movements are deliberately slow, as if he is savouring every inch of you.

"Morel..." His name on your lips makes his body shiver with something he couldn't have prepared for in a million deaths. He is as if carved from stone. The word that slips from your mouth as if falling from the gods themselves makes him feel like he's been touched by lightning.

"Say it again…?" he whispers.

"Morel." "You'll remember to scream that later." "Wait what?"

Neferpitou

Neferpitou shivers at the sensation of your lips. Soft. Plump. Just the right amount of firmness. When your hand cups the side of their face, they tilt their head into your hand — as though they couldn't be more content to be in your grasp.

"Was...was that a kiss…?" They ask breathlessly. Neferpitou has always been quiet, but they are so very desperate for you. Neferpitou kisses you like a drowning man, with a desperation that almost seems to consume the room. There are no words that need be said to describe this, only actions.

When your back hits the wall, Neferpitou is flush against you, their lips still on yours, tongue tracing over your teeth. Their hand reaches up to grasp you by the neck, pressing against your jaw with the same sort of urgency.

Their breaths get deeper, more ragged with want. "You're mine…" Neferpitou breathes when they finally pull back from your kiss, leaving only a few inches of space between your lips. Their thumb brushes over your lip, lingering as if they couldn't bear the thought of letting it go.

"Say you're mine, human!"

Netero

His lips are warm, softer than they have any right to be. His arms are around you, firm as a mountain, but gentle in a way that says he's being careful. He tastes of the rain, like the afterglow of a storm. His arms tighten against your back in a way that makes it perfectly clear: he intends on holding onto you for all eternity. He is centuries old— but he feels young with you. He holds you against him like a relic, a treasure from the very first second that he's made you his.

Your body fits against his, the two of you slotting together like the final bit of a puzzle. He is warm against you, his head buried against the crook of your neck, as if you are a pillow, and all his thoughts are on you. His face is pressed into your hair, and he inhales slowly, your scent filling his senses and his eyes flutter shut. It feels as if a part of him has been missing all his life, and then you came along and you fit so perfectly into his arms that all at once he realises: you were always that missing piece.

"I've been waiting for so long," he mumbles. "I'm not going to let go of you now."

Nobunaga

Nobunagas head is in the crook of your neck. He is breathing deeply, as if you could drown out the whole world with the scent of you alone. "I love you," he breathes again, against your skin. "You're it… you're all I need…"

His hand gently runs up your arm, holding you against him. He's clinging to you like a barnacle. Nobunaga's breath hitches as your touch moves against his jawline. "You're too good for me." His words are barely a whisper.  His eyes close as soon as your hand touches his face, and he's completely quiet now, save for the sound of his breath.

If it weren't for his heart beating, one would almost assume that he's dead. He's as still as a statue, as if the mere whisper of your touch could bring him shattering to his knees. "You," he murmurs again, his voice low, "you're everything. More. So many good things I'm not. You're— I would die for you. I would."

His grip on your arm tightens. "I'm lost in you… I'm—" he trails off, swallowing thickly.

Pariston

"Somebody might-" "Let them," Pariston murmurs against your mouth. He's breathless, his face a few inches from yours, eyes wide and fixed in a mixture of reverence and adoration. "Let them look. Let them see your good man; your beautiful lover." He pulls you closer, bringing you flush against him. There's something almost feverish in the way he looks at you. "Let them see that you're mine. Let them know you're the only one that matters." "But-" "But?" His tone matches yours; gentle, questioning. "But what?"

His eyes search yours, as if he's almost afraid that you'll tell him to stop— that he'll be forced to part from you, even for a second. He holds his ground, unmoving, his body pressed close to yours. Pariston smiles at you, a tender curve of the lips. It's a smile full of warmth and adoration.

It's the kind of smile that is utterly unguarded, a simple, unburdened smile that comes from nothing but love and affection. Pariston's tongue peeks out from behind his lips to moisten them. He brings a hand up to hold your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin.

"You look pretty when you're flustered," he comments. "And so flustered," he teases, his finger trailing lower down your face to brush against your neck playfully. "Are you scared that they'll think I'm taking advantage of you, my love?"

His hand slides down your arm; a shiver goes through you as his fingertips linger over your forearm. "Scared that they'll think that I'm making you mine?"

A pause, before he adds in a husky drawl that sounds more like a growl, "Scared that you'll like it?"

Phinks

"Only strong for you," Phinks murmurs with a soft gasp, breathless and trembling.

His arms tighten around you, fingers gripping your shoulders as he pulls you closer, needing to have you in his embrace. The only thought his mind is able to form is of you, of you, of you. Phinks breath hitches.

His fingers tighten around your waist. His lips part easily as his head cocks back and his breaths grow more urgent. He makes a low, soft sound as his fingers clutch tighter to your body, and he presses himself closer to you. Phinks can't get enough of this. He can't get enough of having you close, of having you so close to him. Of hearing you breathe, of feeling the weight of you on top of him.

He kisses you more roughly this time, tongue pressing against yours. One of his hands grips your waist, pulling you closer, and his fingers dig into your skin.

He pulls away and presses his lips to your neck, lips whispering against the skin.

"You drive me insane." One of his legs hooks around yours and he rolls, reversing the positions so that he is on top of you, staring down at you from above. He presses against you, fingers gripping your hips tightly.

Pokkle

"Me, shy?" Pokkle almost laughs, only holding in the sound with a stifled huff. He raises his face slowly to look at you, his eyes glistening just like they almost always do when he looks towards you. "I am not shy," he says. "I simply—"

His voice trails off once again and he looks down at his feet. He lets out a low, shuddering breath— he's never been a good liar. He lets out a quiet, breathless laugh.

"I'm not getting shy at all. I'm not. I just…" He looks up, eyes meeting yours almost immediately, like a flower seeking sun. "A moment of weakness. A brief vulnerability— I-"

He sighs. God, he is a bad liar.

"Shut up and keep kissing me." You whisper, leaning closer to him. Pokkle freezes at that order. His breath stops in his chest. For a moment, it seems he's stunned speechless by the statement.

And then, he reacts. All he does is stare for a second, and you catch a spark of something new in Pokkles eyes. "Okay," he says; his voice is barely a whisper as he responds to you, soft and just a little bit breathy.  He pulls you close.

Razor

His hands are gentle as he touches you, as he runs his fingers over you like you are pure light. Razor loves to tease you, loves to hear your little whimpers and gasps as his touch slides over you. "Did you do that on purpose?" Razor asks, voice slightly breathless as he presses his thumb over the spot were he just left his mark. "I don't believe you're this bad at practicing nen." there's a slight edge to his voice, "and I know you aren't that bad."

"Or— maybe," he murmurs— "I'm just that skilled at making you lose your focus." Razor lets his fingers dance over your skin while your heart beats faster under his touch. "You're so easy," he muses. His tongue slips out, running the tip along the seam of your lips. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky whisper:

"You're so desperate just for me to touch you."

His fingers dance along the inside of your shirt as they slip under the fabric, caressing the warm, supple skin beneath his fingertips. He kisses you again. His teeth close around your bottom lip. He nips at your mouth with more force. He gently bites and sucks and pulls until you're letting out the pretty noises that drive him crazy. When he releases your lip, a thread of saliva still connected to his mouth, he grins against it.

"You're not very quiet at all."

Shaiapouf

His kisses are soft, as if he is touching a piece of art that could crumble under the pressure of his own touch. He holds your gaze as he does, eyes wide and open, like a child that has seen something that has rocked his very world. His tongue is soft and slow against your mouth, warm and gentle like the summer sun. His body is warm as well, every muscle under his clothes as taut as tautrope. He moves slowly, languid, languid. He would not speed the pace on his own accord. He's content to worship you with his lips. His mouth moves to your neck, his lips brushing against the bare skin, soft as satin.

He's silent as he presses kisses against your throat, his nose brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. He inhales your scent, as if it alone was a sacrament he was consuming.

He moves lower, his mouth moving to the hollow of your throat. He pauses there, then moves down to the collarbone, his hair splaying across your skin. Shaiapoufs tongue runs along the contour of your collarbone. He lets it dance across the skin of your collarbone, as it would a melody on the strings. He presses gentle kisses there, moving his way back up along your throat to your jaw.

His hands are at your face, stroking softly across your cheek, your chin, your jaw. His touch is like a caress. He strokes over your lips.

Shalnark

A small whimper sounds in the back of Shalnarks throat as your lips meet. He is quick to return the kiss, as if every fiber of his being is focused on that one singular contact. He reaches up, resting his palm against the curve of your jaw, turning your head so that he can deepen the kiss.

His breath is hot against your skin, his other hand gripping your waist, fingers digging hard into the fabric of your clothes. "You're mine," he murmurs against your lips, almost desperately. His fingers tug at your clothes, trying to pull you closer. If he could have, he would have torn them from you, and then your body, so that he could have you even closer.

Shalnark tongue brushes over your lower lip, and he makes a soft sound—a small whimper—as he does so. He is desperate, and his touch is rough. In that moment, he simply wants to be close to you. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Mine," he mumbles, again.

Shoot

Shoot melts into your kiss, a soft gasp of surprise escaping him as you kiss him, and he responds quietly, his hands hovering as if afraid to touch you. He's timid, but also hungry, desperate to feel your lips upon his.

His body presses against yours as your lips touch, and he makes another soft gasp as his hands finally touch your skin. You take his hands in mine and place them on your waist. Shoot hands freeze as they slide against your waist. His fingertips touch your hip, gently wrapping around you. He swallows hard, the sound loud in the quiet, as he pulls you closer. He lets his fingers explore your back, sliding up to your shoulders. His hands are cold, but not unwelcome. He keeps going, as if he's lost himself in the simple pleasure of touching you. "Your skin…it's so warm," he murmurs, voice a little breathless. The words are like smoke from his lips, his body shivering against yours. "I didn't expect—"

A soft noise sounds from his throat, and Shoot tugs you closer against himself, his body molding against yours like clay. "It's been too long. I've missed the touch of warm skin," he complains, leaning forward to bury his face into your neck.

Uvogin

Uvogin is in control— a gentle yet calloused hand against the sensitive skin of your jaw, lips moving against yours. When he speaks, his voice is soft, gentle, and deep- "Mmmm, I could kiss you forever." He murmurs against your lips, his thumb tracing soft patterns upon your neck, as if mapping out the shape of your pulse.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, gently nipping, then kissing again. He's pinning you against a wall, his body trapping you against it, his hips against yours.

Another kiss, deep and hungry, tongue pressing against your lips in an almost desperate demand for more of you. Uvogin doesn't speak, his mouth busy, claiming, exploring.  His hands roam up your back, pulling you flush to his chest. "You're so perfect," he mutters in between kisses, his voice husky, heavy with a desire he seems unable to control. One hand slides into your hair, holding your head in place, his body pressing you down, holding you in place against the wall.

His lips travel down your jawline, across your neck, teeth nipping and tongue soothing in a pattern that is both maddening and delicious.

Wing

Wings tongue slips between your lips as he draws you in for a kiss. His hands grip at your body, pulling you close, pressing you close until you can barely move. His head tilts slightly to the side, lips moving at a slow, torturous pace. He seems to drink you in, savoring the taste of you. He's gentle, oh so gentle, and yet at the same time he can't bring his lips away from yours. "Please," he whispers, his voice a low growl when he pulls away just enough to speak. "Please don't let me go, not now. I haven't seen you in weeks."

Wings arms are wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you tight against him as if he'll die if he lets you go.

He presses his body close to yours, his head leaning on your shoulder. He's desperate for a moment of peace and your presence, and yet he knows that you could leave at any moment. "I won't." Wing grip around you tightens at those words. He inhales shakily, his body shuddering. His breath brushes over your neck, warm against your skin.

"Say it again." He demands, lifting his head to look up at you. Despite his firm tone, his eyes are soft, almost pleading. He's desperate to hear it from you, for you to reassure him.

"I won't leave you." When you promise him that, he releases a shuddering breath. "Thank you."

[honeyxbee]

TW: NSFW, fem!reader, breeding kink

words: 185

Thinking about men with major breeding kinks.

Guys who are obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant, wanting nothing more than to see you swollen with his child. Just the thought of watching your body change to support a child you made together is enough to make him hard.

The first time he asks to have sex without protection, you don't think much of it ― you've heard all the excuses about condoms being 'uncomfortable' and that raw is 'so much better.' But it is the first time you've listened to a guy straight up say that he wants to get you pregnant.

It's definitely not the last time, though.  

He likes to fuck you in a mating press, his hands holding your ankles near your head as he mumbles about how hot you'll look when you're carrying his child. He pushes himself into you as deep as he can when he cums, hoping that this time, it will finally take.

And when he pulls out, he's immediately fingering his cum deeper into you. After all, he doesn't want to waste a single drop.

AOT: Erwin

Haikyu: Bokuto

HXH: Illumi

JJK: Nanami, Toji

[dark-konohagakure2]

Yandere Illumi x Dumb Little Sis Reader? Breeding Kink, (Little sweet?)

tw: incest, sibling incest, dubcon, yandere, infantilization, breeding, isolation, brainwashing, bimboification, mating press

All characters depicted are 18+

The words 'sweet' and 'Illumi' are two words that are never used in the same sentence by any sane individual, the man's face seems incapable of changing from it's impassive mask, let alone making a gentle expression, but none of those preconceptions about him are held by his dearest baby sister, who thinks the world of him.

His sister is such a silly little thing, acting like a little girl again whenever she's with her big brother, despite being much too old to act in such a way. Illumi finds it adorable, it's so cute how she acts so submissive around him, and it's even cuter how she is completely blissfully unaware of the helpful little needle implanted within her brain.

Illumi almost never smiles around anyone, unless its out of sadism, but his sister is the exception, the usually emotionless assassin is practically beaming whenever his sister snuggles up to him or when she starts crying and clinging to him whenever he leaves her side for longer than a few minutes.

He's especially content when his sister innocently begs for his attention, even wanting to sleep in the same bed as him almost every night, of course Illumi can't say no to his adorable baby sister, so he accepts her into his bed with open arms, as long as she's ready to accept him with open legs.

"Hmm? Oh fine, come here sissy... Your big brother needs some love and attention from his favorite baby sibling tonight..."

He's cold to the touch, both figuratively and literally, so his little sister will have to cling to him as her only source of warmth while he's pounding into her snug pussy, murmuring praises about how she's going to make a perfect Zoldyck assassin straight from her womb for the family.

Illumi isn't very sensitive at all, his sense of both pain and pleasure alike being dulled from a lifetime of torturous assassin training, so it'll take him a long while to climax. His dear sister is the opposite, squirming and whining in pleasure beneath him as she babbles on and on about how good it feels at how much she loves her Nii Nii. To say that he's fucking her dumb would be inaccurate, his sweet sister is already pretty stupid because of him, his dick just makes her even more of a bimbo.

Illumi is as precise with breeding her as he is with killing his targets, wanting to make sure that she's thoroughly impregnated. He'll have her pinned down in the mating press as his cock shoots load after load of his virile sperm into her fertile womb, not letting a single drop spill out and not stopping until he physically can't go on anymore, and being a Zoldyck means he can go for hours.

Another thing Illumi loves about fucking his own innocent sister is how clingy she gets even after he's been brutalizing her womb for the past hours, showering him with affection and praise even in her fucked out state. Illumi is sure to praise her right back, and provide her with as much affection as a deplorable man like himself can muster up.

"Good sissy... You were such a good girl taking all my cum like that. That's just one other reason why I love you so so much..."

And Illumi isn't lying when he says that. He truly and wholly loves his little sister with his entire depraved heart. It's clear to any sane person that his love is twisted and grotesque, but as long as she's a Zoldyck, she'll never get to meet anyone who is sane.

[shalscumbunny]

The male members of the Gen'ei Ryodan and their S/O's breasts

TW: Female S/O, abuse, fondling, forced intercourse, forced touching, mild torture, pregnancy, breeding kink, forced pregnancy, sexist, misogynist, breastfeeding, yandere, kidnapping and minor injuries

Author's note: I am humanly incapable of writing about Bonolenov (I feel weird), an apology to the fans (if there are any)

Phinks:

Honestly, whenever I think of Phinks, I think of someone who is rough even if he doesn't mean to be, not as rough as Uvogin, but he tends to be a bit aggressive when he has you sitting on his lap facing forward. He knows you're blushing and he doesn't care to embarrass you further, even though he has that stoic expression you know he's enjoying it, you know he's enjoying hearing you whimper and moan as his big hands knead your breasts. After all you feel his hard erection press against you. I don't really think of him as a breast man though (I'm of the inclination that he's a thigh man), so after playing with you for a while he'll just put you on all fours and fuck you hard.

Uvogin:

I have mixed feelings here, just like Phinks, I don't feel like he's a breast man (I think he's a die-hard fan of asses). But unlike Phinks who just hangs around to get bored, Uvogin doesn't mind spending a long time kneading your poor, aching breasts with his huge, calloused hands. You feel his hard penis rub against your pussy as you cry, watching through your tears as he bites, sucks and pulls at your poor breasts. Your breasts will probably be covered in bruises, small wounds and injuries the next day, making him puff out his chest with pride.

Franklin:

Unlike the previous ones, I feel that despite that rough and corpulent build, Franklin is a soft man, he likes your breasts (And yes, I feel that he likes breasts 100%), regardless of their size or shape, they simply captivate him. He usually takes you gently while licking and sucking your breasts making you moan, he sniffs your essence carefully and usually guides you in the way he likes. A pleasure where the majority usually wins.

Feitan:

I'm not going to put it up for discussion, Feitan is a man who loves breasts (And for some reason I feel like he loves small breasts the most and don't ask me why). If Feitan isn't rubbing your breasts, sucking and biting your poor nipples, sadly it's something else. I feel like one way to represent his love and dominance over his S/O is torture. Feitan doesn't see his S/O as an equal, so he doesn't care about your opinion or consent. So sadly sometimes you're tied to a chair with little electric clamps stimulating your poor sore nipples while he forces you to suck his cock. You know he's turned on, his gaze isn't very expressive, but he has that sick sadistic smile on his face, his cock vibrating in your throat.

Nobunaga:

I don't feel like he's a die-hard fan of breasts (He's a thigh man), but he likes to make you feel good and mark you as his. Just like your thighs, neck and shoulders, your breasts are also decorated with little bruises. He's a big groper, he just can't get enough of you because he loves you so much, so sometimes he doesn't mind leaning you on a counter and groping your breasts while he bites your shoulder and his cock pushes hard against your pussy for several hours without rest, until he leaves you dumb, with your pussy and uterus full of his cum, your breasts swollen and overstimulated. He's a man who's a fan of new experiences, so he's willing to suggest (coerce) you to try to masturbate him with your breasts, growling as he feels your soft mounds embrace his hard cock and then grabbing your hair to make you suck his swollen tip.

Chrollo:

Chrollo is a curious being in every aspect and that includes the human body, especially YOUR body. I feel that even though it may not seem like it sometimes, he likes mysticism, when it comes to you, he believes in soulmates, he is a true believer that you and him are pieces of a puzzle. He loves you deliberately, he is obsessed with you and everything about you, he needs you, in every aspect. Even though I personally feel that his S/O's favorite body part is her thighs, he also loves breasts. He fucks you by making you sit on his fat cock, both of you sitting anywhere, be it the living room, the bathroom or the corner of the bed. His hot, cum-filled balls squished by your slippery slit. He is thrusting at a good pace inside you, deep and somewhat slow, looking to fill you strongly. He's pleased by your expressions and moans, he grunts when your rubbery walls squeeze his cock, he growls into your breasts and moans, after giving you a dirty kiss on the mouth he lowers his head until he latches onto your nipple, he sucks and sucks it like he's hungry while his arms wrap around your waist tightly. He pounds into you in a messier way while he licks and sucks your nopples, completely obsessed with those dirty faces you make. He doesn't plan on stopping, he's got a long way to go with you, he loves latching onto your nipple and being one with you. Obviously we know that his goal is to possess you and please you, and he's probably also trying to impregnate your sweet pussy with his child.

Hisoka:

He's a big fan of ass and I'm not willing to argue about it, but that doesn't stop him from suggesting (forcing) you to use flavored body lotions. He lets out that hungry giggle as he latches onto your bubble gum flavored nipples while his fingers with sharp nails move in your tight, wet pussy, obviously those sharp nails hurt and injure your poor pussy making it bleed slightly, but you're used to it by this point, so you just moan and gasp excitedly, tears rolling down your red cheeks. I'll add as an additional note that since Hisoka is a man with such eccentric tastes, he'll probably at some point force you to wear piercings on those cute nipples of yours, maybe pink ones or heart-shaped ones, or if he's really crazy probably one of your nipples will end with an "H" and the other with an "M"

Illumi:

We've talked about this before, a relationship with Illumi without children is impossible, no matter if you're infertile, in this fictional world of HxH, he's willing to find any way for you to get pregnant with his children. Illumi is the kind of man who won't let you leave his bed until a pregnancy test comes back positive, which he so desperately wants. Apart from the fact that even though he loves you and doesn't know how to show it, in this relationship you don't have the right to have an opinion, so you have to accept and adapt. It doesn't matter if you beg him on your knees that you don't want a baby, he doesn't care, he won't listen to you either, he is a true believer that you will become fond of the baby. Due to his upbringing, he has somewhat misogynistic and sexist tendencies, so, since you are his wife, your duty is to accept the children he wants to give you and obey him (The best thing for your mental health is to do so). He's not very good at expressing that he wants it, you've rarely seen him with more than one expression, so learning to decipher it will take you a GOOD time. Only his face usually changes a couple of times and one of those times is when he's fucking you, his face looks slightly more relaxed and even if he tries, the pleasure is something difficult to hide even for a cold-blooded killer like him. Even though sex is very mechanical with him, it's not bad, he gives it to you hard, strong and moderately fast while sucking your breasts occasionally, he will NEVER admit it to anyone, but they are a part of your body that usually generates attraction and curiosity in him. But once he left you round and swollen with his child, now your breasts are a part of your body that obsesses him. He just feels his cock harden when he notices how they grow day by day, preparing to nourish his future child. Of course Illumi doesn't stop fucking you when you're pregnant, on the contrary, he fucks you more, because he simply gets excited seeing you pregnant and swollen with his baby. He spends so much time sucking on your breasts during sex that your milk production gets too early, that only makes him obsessed with your breasts even more. Now he fucks you hard, rubbing the baby inside you with the palm of his cold hand while he fills his mouth with your sweet milk, panting and grunting on your swollen nipple, at the same time, your other nipple drips small jets of milk onto the bed. When you give birth he gives you privacy with the baby when nursing, although it's funny because the baby looks like its father, hugging your breast and latching onto your nipple trying to swallow as much milk as possible. Years later and after 4 babies, it's really comforting and strange for you that Illumi doesn't change, he's not very expressive or affectionate, but he likes to be with you, he doesn't feel disgusted by the after-effects of pregnancies on your body, on the contrary, he tends to be attracted to them He rarely smiles except when you greet him after a long day of murders, with two children hidden behind your skirt, another in a sling on your back, another in your arms sucking milk from your nipple and well, another on the way developing in your swollen belly. When Illumi calls the nannies to take the children away and leave you alone, he really just wants to latch onto your generous milk-filled breasts and fuck your pregnant pussy.

Shalnark: (Everything I say about Shalnark is 100% canon and I don't allow anyone to question it). Shalnark LOVES, NEEDS and ADORES your breasts. He loves them for everything, he uses them as a pillow when he's sleepy or wants you to cuddle him, he loves to cuddle and warm up there, he has a smile on his face whenever he's there, you really think he's just missing starting to purr while rubbing his head there and hugging your waist. He's an addict and he doesn't even think about asking you for permission to touch them, for Shalnark they're his, they belong to him, he enjoys buying you only low-cut clothes to look at them all the time and have easy access to them. He doesn't even need to have his cock buried in your pussy to start sucking on your breasts, it can just be at any time, sometimes you're relaxing in bed reading a book and he'll come over, open your shirt and start sucking and licking them with his eyes closed while hugging your waist. Other times he will call you while he is working on his computer, ask you to sit on his lap and continue working while his cock is buried in your pussy and his mouth is sucking on your nipple. Obviously above all, he loves sucking your breasts while he fucks you on the bed, pushing his hips against yours while the tip of his penis hits your cervix hard. His mouth licking, biting and sucking all over your breast, leaving it with marks, bruises, bites and saliva. I mentioned before in this profile that Shalnark does not like the idea of ​​having children, he really does not want any, but he would probably have something similar to what Illumi did with your breasts if he were to get you pregnant and agreed to allow you to continue with the pregnancy. But on the other hand, you would end up producing milk whether you were pregnant or not, since the stimulation is so great that your breasts begin to fill with milk and of course Shalnark will not allow a single drop to go to waste.

Thank you very much for reading me, if you want a version with the female members of the Gen'ei Ryodan let me know 🖤

[animeyanderelover]

I've just recently finally gathered the courage to buy a horror manga from Junji Ito and I've gone for Tomie and now that I've actually started reading it, I just can't stop thinking about having a female s/o based on a similar concept. Someone who has the uncanny ability to make people obsessed with her if they spend enough time with her and who always regenerates no matter how cruel her deaths are by the hands of very same people who fell victims to her strange powers and claimed to adore her.

After years of enduring death and obsession in an never-ending cycle again and again, I can only imagine how jaded and morbid reader would be with everything. She has fully embraced her cursed existence at this point because there is literally nothing she can do about it so at this point she has turned it all into a game. Every time someone else falls for her, she's basically playing the 'what Yandere type are you going to be?' in her head as she has seen it all. She has seen the possessive, the obsessive, the delusional, the overprotective, the clingy, the submissive and dominant, the worshippers and the sadists.

Reader can only sit back and watch with a mixture of pity and amusement in her heart as her newest victim is molded into another obsessive freak that she will live with and indulge their every whim for as long until they snap and she will die yet another death at the hands of her supposed lover.

There are a few worlds where I think such a reader would be especially interesting to let loose (by the way, there are spoilers for Chainsaw Man if you are an anime only):

In Hunter x Hunter I have two headcannons for a Tomie reader. Either she has a Nen ability. Considering that her mere presence would twist and change everyone's emotions as well as considering her regeneration abilities and other things she can do with her body, she'd either be in possession of two nen types which would be Transmutation and Manipulation or she would be a Specialist

The headcannon I consider to be far more intriguing though would be if reader would be a humanoid creature who originated from the Dark Continent but somehow found her way to the Known World. Imagine the Hunter Association or the Known World Government finding out about your existence and hiring skilled Hunters and assassins to track you down and murder you before your abilities could cause any panic.

Imagine Chrollo and the Phantom Troupe catching wind of the situation that is currently being hidden from public. Chrollo, who would be instantly intrigued to track you down and see for himself what a creature from the Dark Continent is capable of and who would keep you as his most priced treasure the moment the troupe has finally found you after searching for you for a long time. Who has to share with the rest of the Phantom Troupe as your mere presence eventually gets to them too, to some sooner than to others and who notices your mild surprise that they actually work together insted of slaughtering each other, something you must be used to seeing. Chrollo, who shares with you experiences in the Known World and adores listening to your stories about the Dark Continent where you were born.

To make it even more interesting, let's assume that you are caught and kept around the time Hisoka has infiltrated the Troupe. Hisoka, the only member Chrollo doesn't trust to leave you alone and neither do any of the other members. There are usually at least two other spiders with you when Hisoka is around but the clown takes it with slightly infuriated amusement as he gives brief glances in your direction, patiently waiting for the day where he can keep you for himself. He has to give it to Chrollo after all, the man knew just how special you'd be when he decided to go after you. He can't wait to steal you away right under the nose of the criminal~

Another possible scenario would be that the Zoldyck Family is hired to hunt you down and capture you as they were informed that you are akin to an immortal being. Imagine Illumi spending months tracking you down and successfully capturing you, though that is only because you do not resist when he finds you, only to never hand you over to the government. Instead he keeps you, black eyes staring fascinated at you whenever he sees you, his cold skin tingling whenever he touches yours, his chest clenching with a sensation he can't quite grasp. He only knows one thing though. That he needs more of whatever it is he feels when he sees you and touches you.

I've already explored this world with a Tomie reader before in this post but Jujutsu Kaisen would literally be perfect because reader could literally be the enbodiment of the curse of obsession which could be used to explain her immortality. No matter how many times she is killed or even exorcised, she will be reborn for as long as people obsess over someone else, no matter how superficial or deep their feelings really are.

Suguru would be an interesting choice that I didn't talk about in the Hc's I linked since he uses Cursed Spirit Manipulation to control curses. The question would be though whether or not Suguru would be able to exorcise and consume you to enable him to gain control over you and summon you at any given time he wishes. Ironically enough a relationship with you in a scenario where you would be a curse would probably be better for you than if you were human since Suguru doesn't look down on you nor would he judge you for your nature as it is the negative emotions of humans from which you were created. You have shared with him some stories of the past where you were murdered from non-sorcerers when they lost control due to your powers and it only fawns his hatred against the monkeys. There are always sweet promises whispered into your ears that he'll never hurt you like they did and you can only wait half-interested whether or not he will remain true to those words.

We could also go way back in time to the Heian Era and simply crown you as the Queen of Curses who stood by Sukuna's side as obsession over someone else is as ancient as the concept of love in all its twisted and radiant forms itself. For a curse to be so strong that it can even influence other curses would stir Sukuna's interest, though he never expected to fall under your spell himself. He is somewhat displeased that his resistance is that weak as he has had multiple women warming his bed before he consumed them and enjoyed their flesh yet he knows that you are a being that will be reborn even if he kills you. Now that you have done it and seduced him though, he'd much rather have you pay the price for it. From now on you shall be his queen. When he is sealed away, you go into hiding. You feel no deep grief in the centuries that follow, though Sukuna has certainly been more memorable than the thousands of other people that follow him, one as bland as pathetic as the next one. It isn't until the 21st century that Sukuna is finally reincarnated into Yuji's body, thrilled and excited about this chance to finally live again. Now he only needs to find his Queen again...

As someone who just recently finished Chainsaw Man, in this universe the reader could just be a devil who has the form of a young woman. You'd probably also assume the role of the Obsession Devil in that scenario and whilst you could just be a wild devil, I think it'd be much more interesting if you actually work sort of together with the Devil Hunters without being locked away like some other devils are. It's rather rare for you to make contracts yourself even if multiple Devil Hunters have willingly offered limbs, senses and much more to you to form a contract with you as you only accept a contract if you are actually interested in a Devil Hunter. Instead you find yourself often negotiating with other devils to convince them to form contracts with Devil Hunters as your influence to make people infatuated with you even affects other devils.

Extreme femme fatale vibes and interesting scenario would be if it is Makima aka the Control Devil herself who is no exception to your abilities. What would make this so unique would simply be that Makima is, just like her devil suggests, someone who represents the fear of conquest and is a woman who is always in control, no matter the situation. That would so very much contrasts with the fear you represent since an obsession is rarely something that can be controlled and both of you are aware of her feelings she harbors for you. You have little capacity to care about people around you as years of living through the same events again and again have made you jaded towards the very idea of attachment and love but perhaps it is the uniqueness of the situation that perks your interest as she can tell that you are testing the waters with her. Are you willing to play the game with her? You should be prepared for the possible consequences if your answer is yes.

Kishibe is one of the few people who you have ever approached and asked for a contract as he caught your eye when he first joined and decades later he takes pride in the fact that he is the one you have held a contract with for the longest time. Your condition for a contract have always remained the same. The moment the Devil Hunter you were contracted to would stop being interesting to you, you wanted his heart and until that point, you would assist them whenever they desired your help. Some sane people would consider those conditions as nothing short of lunatic yet a Devil Hunter rarely survives if they do not belong to the crazy kind and the first time you approached him, he could already tell why you were as desired as you were by many Devil Hunters. Kishibe has survived for as long as he did precisely because he is a madman and that is why your interest in him hasn't faded to this day. You fulfill his every wish in this contract yet he has held himself back in comparison to some of your previous Devil Hunters, though some things are always the same. Like the few other Devil Hunters who had a contract with you, he proposed to you and it isn't the first wedding you went through yet it is the first time you have let a contract last as long to the point where both of you already had a silver wedding to celebrate 25 years of marriage. You're going to miss this one the most when his time comes...

In One Piece a reader with such mysterious abilities could of course be suspected of having eaten a Devil Fruit but I personally would like you to instead be an ancient being that, according to rumors, originated from somewhere in the New World, though nothing about you has ever been revealed. Throughout history, you have only gotten yourself involved a few times yet whenever you did, you were the demise of entire nations yet the full extent of your powers remains as shrouded in darkness as the rest of you. Only the highest-ranked people in the Marine and are even aware of your existence and the World Government has been after you ever since they were established. Not only are your powers frightening but it is also the knowledge that you hold that has made you the most dangerous being in the Grand Line.

You have watched history unfold in front of your eyes, know about the Ancient Weapons and other events that occured throughout time that no one is supposed to know, know even about the darkest secrets of the Navy and know exactly where the proof for their hidden atrocities lies that would ruin their reputation. Whilst the citizens on every island do not know of your existence, in the Grand Line exist tales of you that parents commonly tell children as bedtime stories where you are usually portrayed as a monster. You know of that but you do not care as an existence as long as yours has taught you best that you are not even remotely a human, though your appearance may fool others into thinking otherwise.

I'm not quite sure yet about individual characters in One Piece yet but since I just recently finished the Marineford Arc, I can't help but imagine that after essentially centuries of laying dormant and only being a silent watcher, you finally decide to take an active role when news of Fire Fist Ace's public execution reaches you. Your eyes and ears are everywhere, you always know what is happening in all different oceans after all, no matter how much the Navy may try to hide it from the rest of the world. Though the news of the execution are not kept as a secret this time and reach ears on every island throughout all of the seas. There are no heroic motives though as you make your way. You're just simply bored and decide that messing with the Marine, the pirates and all the people who will watch it all unfold might be amusing and provide some thrill, even if only temporary. The world is certainly going to shake when they find out that the monster from the fairy tale has always been there yet those who will be exposed to your aura on that day will probably go out of their way to chase you down, pushed by their ever-growing obsession. You do not mind. It has been way too long since you've been entertained by them after all. You're just hoping that at least a few of them will prove to be more than yet another waste of your time...

[cat3ch1sm]

♠️~ hello, everyone! i haven’t posted in a little bit so while i desperately work on requests here is this silly hxh smau. enjoy

. • °⛓✧༺ language, sfw, fem!reader, brief, lighthearted mention of murder in Hisoka’s ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲- 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚, 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐚, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨

『gon』ღ

🪦˖⁺(killua)_💚

🥀༶⋆˙⊹(kurapika)୭ 🕊🗝🌿

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ hisoka

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ illumi

*:･ﾟ✧ chrollo *:･ﾟ✧

[arsenic-catnep]

hxh adult trio eating 🐱 headcanons ? this is my first time ever requesting something and i love ur work sm 😁🫶🏽

Adult Trio Eating Pussy Headcanons

Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo x AFAB!Reader

Illumi Zoldyck

He approaches oral like how he approaches an assassination.

Assess the area, find a weak point, attack.

Loves spreading you open and watching your tight cunt clench around nothing.

He knows exactly what's gonna make you writhe and moan and squeal for him. Illumi also knows what's gonna get you to beg him for more.

He loves to be a tease, mainly because it gives him more time to taste you and breathe in your scent.

Tug on his hair. Do it. He'll go insane and suck your clit until you're squirting in his mouth.

Hisoka Morow

Such a damn tease. He wants you to beg for his tongue.

Loves the smell of your cunt, and will tell you. He revels in the way you get all embarrassed when he says how good you smell.

Laps at you like kitten drinking milk. Edges you until your legs are trembling, then completely overstimulates you by sucking at your clit and shoving his tongue inside you.

Hisoka will give you orgasm after orgasm, devouring every drop of cum you give him.

He expects to be rewarded for his kindness and will either fuck your twitching cunt or make you take his cock down your throat.

Chrollo Lucilfer

Despite his put together demeanor, this man eats pussy like he's starving.

He's so messy, but manages to lick and suck at every sensitive spot.

Chrollo would happily spend hours with his head between your legs, mapping out every inch of your cunt with his tongue.

He wants to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied.

He'll crawl up from between your legs to kiss you, cum and spit smeared across his cheeks.

It's definitely a delicious sight, seeing a man that's always so pristine, covered in slick with a blush across his cheeks.

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

Keeping you plugged up with his cock was one of his favorite activities. Wanting to keep his cock warm was just the excuse he used, the real reason was his increasing need to breed.

“Shh, princess… you’ve gotta stay seated a little longer… you’ve gotta keep me warm, okay?”

You whined and writhed, your pussy clenching around him only fueling his urge to get you nice and pregnant. “Please… my tummy, it’s too full…”

The two of you had been going at it for hours, and now he was keeping his cock nestled inside you, filling up your womb to the brim.

“Just be a good girl, okay? My little angel…”

You had a feeling you’d be stuffed full of his cum by the end of the night.

————————

||GOJO ||GETO ||NANAMI ||SUKUNA ||CHOSO ||TOJI || DILUC ||ZHONGLI ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||CHROLLO ||ILLUMI ||RENGOKU ||SANEMI ||YOUR FAV

[luvf4ngz]

MAKE A MESS! - where my faves like to cum <3

ft. jason todd, illumi zoldyck, choso kamo

Contents: Breeding, Mentions Of Starting A Family, Oral (Male Receiving), Reader Wears Makeup, Mentions of Cervix Fucking. Handjobs, Cum Eating, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Slight Possessiveness

Word Count: 1164

It’s him you’re tasting so reverently.

JASON TODD

Jason doesn’t understand why you always do that, but he can’t say that he’s complaining. The sight of you savoring his cum, staring up at him with doe eyes blown dark with lust - face flushed, moaning as you allow it to sit on your tongue never fails to bring a heated flush to his face. And when you swallow it down greedily, sticking your pink tongue out at him to show your now empty mouth?

It makes him hard again every. single. time. 

Whenever you give him a handjob - when your smaller hands work up and down his fat cock, stroking over every vein and sensitive spot - it doesn’t take long before he’s finishing. His load is thick as it flows from the tip of his cock, dribbling down his shaft and coating your hands. It always ends the same. First you gently lap up his seed, looking up at him with those soft, needy eyes as you clean him up, before you raise your dirtied fingers to your mouth, sucking off his cum from your digits with a satisfied hum. 

It makes his cock spring back to life, harder and redder than before. 

And now he’s inside your slick walls, pummeling into you at a hard and rough pace. He just can’t control himself. No matter how much he wants to be gentle with you, your addictive moans and warm walls just make him lose all control. Low groans spill from his mouth as his hands grip the soft flesh of your hips tighter. 

His cock is so big that it nudges at your cervix every time he bottoms out, and it’s so girthy that he stretches you out like no other. You’re left cockdrunk beneath him, able to do nothing but let out wanton whines and dig your nails into his back. Each drag of his walls ignites the fire in your stomach, each hit against your sweet spot has you seeing stars, the pressure in your lower stomach increasing more and more.

He pulls out when he feels he’s close to finishing, large hand pumping at his glossy cock as he aims at your stomach. It’s a warm, sticky mess that splatters against your skin, and again, you do it. You reach your hand down, scooping his seed onto your fingers before bringing them to your mouth.

Your tongue sticks out to collect the salty liquid, running up your digits sensually, before you push the two fingers into your mouth and suck. 

Fuck. 

He’s hard again.

Does it taste good? Do you genuinely like it? Or do you just do this to tease him?

He doesn’t know, and at this point he never will. All he knows is that he needs to feel you wrapped around his cock again. 

ILLUMI ZOLDYCK

This man is obsessed with breeding you. Everytime he fucks you, there’s sure to be a messy white ring at the base of his cock that drips down his balls to dirty the sheets. You’re not sure how he has this much stamina, but you can’t say you’re surprised - considering his training and occupation. 

You feel so fucking full. You’ve lost count of how many loads are inside you, heating up your insides and acting as lube for Illumi to keep fucking you harder and faster. 

The slick sounds echoing the walls are almost too much, making the tips of your ears feel hot from embarrassment. Each thrust from Illumi makes sickening squelching sounds and achingly loud wet slaps. 

You’re going crazy, drooling and moaning against the pillow as Ilumi continues to have his way with you and abuse your aching cunt. There’s so much cum inside you that it’s leaking out, flowing out the sides of Illumi’s pale cock to smear against your thighs. 

“I’m going to fill you up so well, my dear. I’ll start a family with you. We’ll make such strong children. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He murmurs lowly, voice dripping with dominance and lust, fingers digging further into your hips. 

It’s overflowing at this point. Illumi’s cock is covered more and more with a white sheen every time he pulls back.

You’re so sore, it makes you want to cry. The overstimulation makes your body tremble against the bed, filling your brain with static and your veins with lava. 

You feel wet. Messy. Dirty. But still you can’t help but want more.

Illumi’s hips stutter a bit, and you feel him twitch inside you. He groans as another flood of hot cum fills your womb, making you moan out. 

S’too much. S’too hot. You’re too full.

Your thoughts are slurred, head shrouded in heat.

Illumi stills for a bit, chest rising and falling heavily, until… he starts moving once more - hips drawing back to slam against yours again and again and again, until you’re sobbing and gasping and shaking.

He won’t stop until he really knocks you up this time. 

CHOSO KAMO

It’s Choso’s guilty pleasure to see his cum painting your face. He wonders what all the other sorcerers would say about you if they found out you had such lewd preferences. 

There’s just something about seeing your pretty face ruined by him that makes him go crazy. Your mascara always runs down your cheeks when you go down on him. It’s not that he’s ever particularly rough with you, but the length of his cock alone is enough to make you choke and gag, your lipstick always smears against your cheeks and stains his pretty cock with whatever color you decided to sport that day. 

The slurred moans you let out against his cock turns into soft vibrating rumbles, urging him to tangle his fingers into your hair. He tries not to, but he always ends up taking control. He uses his grip on you to urge you up and down to his liking. Each time you hollow your cheeks or move your tongue against his length makes him lose his mind.

When he’s close - when his stomach tightens up and his thighs clench; when the coil inside him unravels along with his mind - he pulls you off of him to blow his load on your face.

You somehow still look innocent, even with his seed dripping from you. You stare up at him with those pretty eyes of yours that he adores. 

There’s something so intimate about this - about your precious face being tainted and ruined by him. It almost evens stirs a hint of possessiveness in him. He relishes in the fact that no one is able to do this to you but him. No one can see how your tongue darts out the lap at the cum dribbling near your lips, no one can see how the white sheen mixes with the colours of your cosmetics, no one can see how you drag your fingers across your face to push his cum into your mouth. It’s him you’re tasting so reverently.

It’s truly a sight to behold. 

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

@toruslvt (ゝω・）

[citrus-writing]

yandere phantom troupe - make you mine

nsfw, warnings for dub-con and non-con

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

Thinking about yanderes you can avoid having sex with for a considerable amount of time. the ones who, despite wanting you so badly, have the patience not to force you into anything. Why would they, when you're already so perfect?  

Includes: chrollo, machi, feitan 

Chrollo sees you as so cute and innocent, sweet and shy, almost. And that plays into your favor when he's so cautious in his approach. He’s so patient with you. Because to him you're made of glass, and he won't risk breaking something so precious. A part of him wants you to come to him- Maybe after so long in isolation, you could. But if you don't, he's not too bothered, because of course you can't approach him with something like this- you must be so nervous. But as time drags on, and Stockholm syndrome starts to set in, you find yourself less and less opposed to the idea, and worse still, is that he notices the change in you.  

Machi is too nervous to talk to you, and she nearly punches you in a fit of nerves when you reach out to tug at her sleeve to get her attention- so it's safe to say she can't bear to touch you. When you touch her she feels electric, and it both excites and scares her. If you ever get to the point of wanting to be close with her, inviting her into your space is better than trying to invade hers. Don't hug her, ask her to hold you. Don't try to crawl into her bed, beg her to stay with you in yours. If you want her to touch you, it's best to tell her. It’s not hard to warm up the idea of being intimate with her, but she’s unlikely to notice your change of heart, too afraid to ruin everything she’s built with you. 

Feitan is once again, really messed up about this. Because he wants you, almost more than any of the others, but he can't seem to get close to you. It's almost a blessing that you shake and cry whenever he comes near. The sight makes him almost happy under normal circumstances. Except now; when he's sitting on the edge of your bed, and you're curled up as far away from him as possible. Of course, he's done nothing to make you warm up to him. In fact, being kidnapped by him is worse than you imagined. He's equal parts endeared and repulsed by the sight of you, and touching you is so much worse. He won't force intimacy for a long time, mostly based on his own anxiety at being close to you. 

Thinking about yanderes who try to make you give in to their advances. Yanderes who know they could take you by force, of course, but they’re far more charmed with the idea of wearing you down, making you come to them. 

includes: shizuku, pakunoda, shalnark 

Shizuku is almost pestering you about it- isn't she pretty? Isn't she sexy? Don't you ever wonder? You must be lonely. Wouldn't it be nice? To have someone touch you and love you and take care of you? She’ll say or do anything to try to wear you down, and sometimes you wonder if it’d be better to just let her win. But then you remember she kidnapped you, took you from everything you loved. Still, when she comes around and touches you just so, the temptation is ever present. 

Pakunoda isn't nearly as obvious, in fact, you can almost convince yourself that maybe your misunderstanding, maybe she just craves the closeness of holding you. But something about the offer to come to bed with her is laced with some kind of warning- the point of no return. And she’s been the perfect captor, caring and kind and gentle- you know that this would be the same, that she’d take care of you and that she’d make it good for you- but you cant let yourself give in, no matter what she does to sway you. 

Shalnark is someone who wears you down with time- sure, he could force you, but there's no fun in that. Not when it's you. He wants you to come around, wants you to break under the pressure. Every touch and kind word and every little gift has been leading you here, and you've fallen for it everytime. You've been grateful- and you can't pretend you didn't know the cost. So when he places his hands on your skin and feels you try to pull away, he frowns, because you’ve accepted everything else so willingly. Still, it’s cute to see you try to win this. 

Thinking about yanderes who force you into their bed, afterall, you belong to them. There’s no sense in denying themselves when you're already here, already locked in their home, already trapped with them forever. 

Includes: llumi, hisoka, uvogin 

Illumi goes forever without touching you- you almost believe he doesn't want to. You lull yourself into a sense of security that someone like him is above desire. That was your mistake. And now, pinned down to his bed, you feel like a fool for not having seen it coming. He’s wanted you, and his perceived hesitance was never for your sake; always just him taking things at whatever pace he preferred. And now that he wants more from you, he won't hesitate to take it. 

Hisoka doesn't wait long, to be honest. And with him, you see it coming from a mile away. As soon as he takes you away, locks you up in his home with him, you know that a part of it is this; that he desires you. You’ve known that from the start, and he’s never tried to hide it. It’s pointless to try to fight him on it, and if you give in to him, he makes a point to let you enjoy it. 

Uvogin also doesn't wait long, maybe he wanted to wait- because he’d love for his feelings to be returned, and the idea of you wanting him is enticing, but he lacks the patience and in the end, it doesn't matter. In the end, he’s already got you here and it’s only a matter of time before he has you in his bed. And waiting for you to come around to his advances is such agony. No, he’s decided. It’s better to take what he wants.