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quimichi · 5 months ago

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¡! ❞ 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."

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evorawrites · 1 month ago

Text

I See Him

Tw:uvogin x reader, stalking, talk of fear, talk of possible kidnapping

2.3k words *I haven't written in over a year, so this was a little warm up. Hope you enjoy

It had gotten far too late. You were an idiot, you had work tomorrow, yet here you were. Walking home alone at 1am, trying to get to the bus stop on the main street. Although you scolded yourself. You couldn't lie, it was worth it. It had been a friend's birthday, and you hadn't seen her lately. Both of you were always working or just plain too tired. This was a special occasion though, you could forgive her for making you take several drinks past your limit and staying out later than you wanted to.

Rounding a corner, you headed towards the main line. Unfortunately, the bus only ran on a few main streets in this area, and the bar was off the line. Maybe you should have taken the cab someone offered to call. It would have been better than walking several blocks in heels while exhausted. Looking down, you noticed your heels were red.

"I'm going to feel that for the next few days." you thought to yourself.

Focused on your feet, you failed to notice the men in your path. Bumping into the larger one, almost losing your balance before a pair of hands caught you.

"Oh shit. I'm so sorry. I-" You looked at both men, taken back at the size of the one holding you. "I wasn't looking where I was going. I'm so sorry."

"It's nothing, j-"The smaller man next to him had spoken first, but was cut off by the other's voice.

"You shouldn't be alone out here." He looked down at you, as if annoyed.

You looked up at the man, still having his hands on your arms. Keeping you upright and in place. You were taken aback by what he had just said.

"I-I'm just heading home." He was right, but it was still rude.

Once you began to stand up straight, he let go. You brushed past them, trying to pick up speed. You couldn't shake off the oddness of the interaction. Why on earth would he say that? You shuddered at the interaction.

Your heels hit the pavement, echoing in the empty streets. Not many people were out in this area. Most had taken a cab to the little bars that were further back. Smart, unlike you. Perhaps saving a few bucks wasn't worth bumping into weirdos like the guys back there.

As you finally hit the main road, your worry vanished. Cars were passing by, people were walking about, and a bus was about to pull up to the stop soon. The eerie feeling of the walk there was vanishing. You'd be home soon, safe with these stupid heels off.

It wasn't long till the bus arrived. Hoping on, choosing to sit near the back by the window. Sighing in relief as you sat down. Taking the pressure off your feet. Leaning your head against the window. You looked out as the bus began to move. Your eyes widened as you looked out. You sat up straight, staring at the view before you.

Looking back from the other side of the window, down the street you had just come were the two men from before. The smaller, leaner one was leaning against the building by the sidewalk. Looking off down the road, but the large man. He was staring directly at you, smiling as if happy with himself. Once he realized you were looking at him, he began to wave. Keeping that smile that made your pick up, on his face. The bus drove away, but you kept your eyes on them as long as possible and it seems he did too.

They followed you to the bus stop. They had followed you. It wasn't a coincidence. You had bumped into them going the opposite direction. They had purposely pursued you. Suddenly, the pain in your feet became the least of your worries. Every stop, every new passenger you stared at. Fearing the men had somehow gotten to the stop before the bus and were waiting for you. Every new passenger made your heart race, your palms sweat and your head pound. The announcements began to drown out, sounding out of reach. The only thing you could hear was the doors opening and closing. You had almost missed your stop. So worried and focused on the doors. Pulling the string last minute, you shot up. Racing to the front doors.

Stepping out, you looked around. The bus sped off behind you. Your stop was a few blocks from your place. There weren't many people out. A few cars passed by, a few people were out walking their dogs, but that was it. Heading home, you stayed alert. Looking behind you every few steps. Afraid those men would appear again. You couldn't shake off how creepy it was. Why were they at the bus stop? Maybe they were trying to catch the bus? No, there was only one bus on that route, and they made no attempt to get on, and the taller guy was waving at you. Clearly they had followed you, but why? You shuddered at the thoughts, trying to convince yourself they were making sure you were safe. Even if it was bizarre and unrealistic.

Finally you were home. Kicking off your shoes, you made your way to your room. Shedding off your clothes and removing your makeup. All you wanted was the comfort of your bed. The safety of your room. The sweet feeling of slumping on the bed, the pressure off your feet. Laying on the bed, you began to doze off. Comfort and safety took over as your eyes closed. Tomorrow you would forget about your weird journey home and just remember the bad choice in shoes and the fun you had with your friends.

Your alarm blared on your nightstand. Demanding you to wake and face all the bad choices from the night prior. Your head pounded from the previous drinks as you woke. Looking out the window, you noticed the sun was barely up. Shit, could you call off sick? Would your boss even care? The answers were no and yes. He was a dick and already was in a bad mood due to new projects. Your absence would just be something he could harp on you for. Claiming there was no one else to cover reception, a lie. There was, however, there was no one who wanted to cover reception.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you ignored the soreness in your feet and the rest of your body. Dressing yourself and preparing breakfast. Putting some bread in the toaster, deciding on something simple and light. You reached for the top of a cabinet, getting down your jar of coffee beans.

"Fuck." You closed your eyes and sighed as you held the empty jar.

You would need to hit the coffee shop before work. There were no good ones on your way to the office, which meant you had to go to the one a few blocks out of your way.

Packing your lunch and laptop for the office. You headed out, making your way to the shop. It wasn't too out of the way, just a few blocks in the wrong direction. You had left early enough. It should be fine, not cutting into your time getting to work. Your feet would hate you, but there was no way you could get through the day without some form of caffeine.

The ache in your feet was bearable now that you were wearing runners and not heels. Though the rest of you was still in rough shape. Head foggy, body tired. You just wanted a coffee and rest. Turning the corner, you headed through the front doors of the shop. Hearing the chimes above the door as you went to order. Ordering your usual before stepping aside. Waiting for the barista to make your drink.

The bells above the door chimed again. Looking up, expecting to see another poor early riser getting their morning fix. Opening your mouth to give a greeting, you stopped yourself when you saw who it was. Oh god, your body was no longer tired. No, fear was taking over. Making your heart pick up pace as you looked at the man's face. You knew that face. The unkempt hair, the stumble, the wide eyes that stared directly at you like the night before. It was the taller of the two men. The one who had caught you. He was here, here in your local coffee shop. Far from that area last night. There was no overlap. There should be no overlap, he shouldn't be here.

He made his way towards you, his eyes held on you. Your eyes glued to him as well. His held pleasure. Yours held dread and terror. You took a step back, pushing your back into the counter. Trying to further yourself from him. This wasn't a chance run in. Someone wouldn't come towards a random they bumped into the night before and were rude to.

The barista's voice broke both of your stares. She was calling out your name and order. Handing you your drink and motioning your stalker to the cash register. You took his distraction to grab your drink and bolted out the door. Looking back into the shop's windows to ensure he wasn't following. He wasn't, you saw him ordering his drink at the counter. Taking a sigh of relief. Perhaps you were in your head. Scared of imaginary scenarios and villains. Turning towards your work, those calming feelings disappeared as quick as they came. Standing on the other side of the entrance was the creep's companion. Leaning against the wall. He looked up at you, gave a weak smile then went back to looking elsewhere.

Your body reacted quicker than your mind could. Your feet carried you down the street. Picking up speed with every step. You ignored the feeling of the burning coffee hitting your hand. The pain and panic that was coursing through you. They had followed you, they were stalking you. This wasn't some messed up coincidence. They had followed you. Faster and faster you moved. It wasn't until you hit the front doors of your work did you allow yourself to relax and breathe. Standing past the doorway, looking back. As if expecting to see those men again standing there. Waving smiling. You waited for their faces to pop up, but it never came. You were safe. Safe inside the building. Finally, you took in the scene around you. You were hyperventilating in the lobby of your work building. People were staring. Trying to calm yourself down, you headed to the elevators. Jumping into a mostly empty one. Giving a weak smile to the people with you before turning around and using the elevator mirrors to fix yourself up. Your hair was wild from the run. Shit, you tried to fix it the best you could with one hand. Running your fingers through the parts you could or patting it down. After some fiddling, you made your hair somewhat presentable. Now turning to your outfit, looking at the coffee on your coat. At least none got on your pants and top. You wouldn't look crazy with a clean outfit even if your hair was a bit wild. You had managed to spill about half your drink on yourself and the ground while running. So much for your morning pick up. Turning towards the door, you leveled your breathing one last time before heading to your desk.

The day had seemed long. You were still on alert. Terrified that they would turn up again. Apart of you wanted to say it was all a weird coincidence, but you knew better. No one acknowledges a random bump in from the night before. No one sane stares at another person the way he did. The idea of calling the police crossed your mind, but you knew it was foolish. You didn't have proof and they hadn't actually hurt or threatened you.

The day dragged on, lunch came and went. Every ding of the elevator, or opening of an office door had your head snapping towards the noise. Your chest would pick up from the heavy and quick breathing. Chills would run down your body, freezing your actions for a few seconds till you saw their face. Till you knew you were safe. There was nowhere to hide. You were the receptionist. You had to see and greet every new face that walked in. Had to watch as people walked in and out of the elevators. 5 o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

The walk home was filled with the same fear and paranoia. Always looking over your shoulder. Sure you were certain they hadn't followed you to work, but then again. You were convinced they hadn't followed you past the bus stop. Days and days were like this. Repeating the anxiety of leaving the house, of seeing them. Every movement from the corner of your eye had you on full alert. Every day was the same. Panic to work, panic at work and panic at home. Yet, you hadn't seen them again. Days past. You were beginning to feel somewhat safe again.

A foolish feeling. Your paranoia was correct. Your suspicion of the shadows was right. The taller of the two men was always there, waiting, watching. Staying just out of sight. Your anxiety filled him with satisfaction and passion. He wanted you, needed you, and just watching was getting dull after a while. Perhaps it was time you two properly met. Get to know each other a little better. Plus you were losing that fear he loved. Shoving himself off the wall in the alley. He watched as you headed inside your office. Maybe it would be fun to meet you back at your place? Uvo headed in your home direction. Yeah, it would be fun. He can already picture your cute face as you walked in to be met with him lying on your couch. Too bad Nobunaga was too busy to see it. He would just need to snap a few pictures.

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bwabys-scenarios · 1 year ago

Note

uvogin hcs? 🙏🏻

sfw or nsfw i’ll take even a crumb😓

Uvogin SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REPOSTS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: breeding, oral(fem!receiving), face sitting, he likes your natural scent, cockwarming, overstimulation, overstimulation

A/N: I may do a part 2 to this later on!!

SFW

-he doesn’t give a fuck whether you’re in public or not, you’re getting all his love and affection. he’s also one of the few phantom troupe members that will show his love for you in front of his fellow spiders without shame. you sit in his lap during meetings!

-he’s very gentle with you. those big hands of his that are usually used to crush his opponents and intimidate others, is also used to cup your cheek and wipe away your tears when you’re sad.

-he genuinely loves you. Uvogin has had many partners, but you are the first one he’s truly loved. he’s even had thoughts of buying a home to come back to where you’ll be safe. he’s not retiring from his thieving days any time soon, but the troupe has noticed he’s been more careful to come home to you safe

-his love for you was no secret, when he realized he liked you, he began flirting with you nonstop. he’s got a way with his words that had you blushing and it didn’t take long for you to fall for him too

-he will steal you anything you want. he even brings back money for you, even though he doesn’t like using it himself, he’d rather you not have a job where you could get hurt, so he provides for you

-surprisingly romantic, in his own way! you may not get store bought flowers and chocolates, but he’ll bring home wild flowers and cook you a nice stew(it’s the only thing he can really cook, but he’s damn good at it!)

-he goes crazy when you wear his clothes. it doesn’t matter what size you are, uvogin is huge so his cloths will be big on you!!

-enjoys watching movies with you on his lap and his hand gripping your thigh. laughs really loud at jokes, his chest rumbling. you sometimes fall off when he starts slapping his leg, causing the couch to shake. “oh, sorry princess. you alright?”

-he really would like a cute little housewife!! wear an apron and bake him little treats to snack on when he gets home and he’s putty in your hands

-gives really good massages, he barely has to try, his big strong hands soothe all of your sore muscles easily

-wants to be a dad someday. it’ll take a bit for him to finally accept that side of himself, but when he does, he’s ready to make you a mommy!!

NSFW

-he’s fucking huge, 9-10 inches and GIRTHY. it will take a lot of prep to take him

-he’s completely fine with that though, taking his time stretching you out on his fingers and capping at you’re clit until you’re nice and wet for him

-this man has a breeding kink, even before he realizes he wants to be a dad… he almost always cums inside, and it’s a LOT! you’ll feel very full after, and sometimes you’ll have the cutest bulge in your tummy that he loves to caress!!

-he’s very experienced, so if you aren’t don’t worry, he’ll guide you through everything! he’s surprisingly gentle and attentive, paying attention to each movement and noise you make to ensure the experience is an enjoyable as possible!

-he loves having you cockwarm him, watching you squirm and struggle to fit all of him inside your tight cunt. he’ll gentle rub your clit, making you cum around him over and over again.

-overstimulates you like crazy. he’ll have his big hands holding your thighs in place as he laps at your cunt, his big tongue fucking into you

-this man NEEDS you to sit on his face. he can take it, it doesn’t matter how big you are, he needs you to put all of your weight on him and let him tongue fuck you!!

-he’s definitely into worshiping your body. tells you how beautiful you are, how much he wants to fuck into you until you’re a mess

-he’ll hold your chin and force you to look into his eyes while he pounds into you!! “look at how good I’m making you feel, princess. making such a mess all over my cock…”

-he’s got a thing for your natural scent. goes absolutely crazy when you get done doing something that makes you all sweaty. he’s sniffing at the crook of your neck, groaning. “fuck princess, you smell so good…” this always turns into absolutely FILTHY sex

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carvinglies · 5 months ago

Text

Soulmate tropes multifandom part one: Hunter x Hunter

part two || part three || part four ||

notes: I wanted to try my hand at writing soulmate au's so hopefully this is decent requests are open.

tw's:Talks of death in chrollos part, immortality in chrollos part, and angst in his part too.

Red string of fate you can tug: Kurapika

Kurapika’s soulmate frustrates him to no end, pulling their string at the worst moments with such force that he wonders how the hell they’re so strong. He could be sleeping and suddenly feel a tug from his pinky moving him to the other side. Kurapika understands he’s not heavy but there’s no way he’s that light! When he finally comes face to face with his soulmate giving them the equivalent of the stink eye.

Kurapika huffs before blurting out, “Why have you been manhandling me for no reason?” They have to stifle a laugh at his bluntness.

Immortal x mortal who keeps getting reincarnated but falls in love with immortal over and over: Chrollo

Chrollo’s soulmate constantly wallows in their own sadness, being immortal has no perks once you begin to live it. They hate having so many chances at life when they have to constantly wait for Chrollo again, watching him die months or days after a confession over and over makes them despise their never ending life Chrollo always dies after falling in mutual love with them making his soulmate swear to never fall in love with him again but always falling to the curse of the never ending cycle of reincarnation and death.

“I’ll always love you no matter how many life’s I live,” was always ringing in their ears in different voices but it was always him.

Really poor description on how you meet your soulmate is written on you: Feitan

Feitan’s face contorted into confusion when he first got the inky writing engraved into his skin, yeah sure he knew what soulmates were but the method whoever chooses soulmates picked out for him was annoying. I mean what kind of description of their meeting is, “bodies will hit it will be hot and sharp.” It threw him for a loop but eventually he decided to just give up on his soulmate. He didn't need romance, he's a thief for god's sake! But he was destined to meet you so when he bumped into someone holding scorching hot coffee that splattered onto him it hurt but it wasn’t bad for a nen user but just for the inconvenience he pulled out a switch knife holding it up to their wrist as a threat.

“Oh so this is what the text meant, how ironic,” the unknown person standing before him chuckled as he withdrew his weapon, coming to the same conclusion.

Someone can not experience true love until they meet their soulmate: Illumi

Illumi used to ask his mother about how he would meet his soulmate; she explained that methods are genetic and he would most likely be feeling no love until they meet the one. But he was quickly told to discard the idea of love and soulmates and encouraged to just marry the strongest person he would meet. Illumi drilled that fact into his head after some push from his parents he began to scout out potential candidates for marriage running into a florist worker their clay pot holding flowers were expected to smash into the floor but Illumi assumed that they were a nen user by the way they gripped their pot. Illumi walked off before hearing the same floral worker calling out to him holding a smaller bouquet, the plastic making a crunching noise as they moved to hold it out to the male's chest.

They grinned at him before hesitating, ultimately deciding to speak, “Here to apologize about running into you sir!” A weird fluttering feeling enveloped Illumi. He glanced at them studying their facial expressions and body language, thinking about them possibly cursing the flowers before giving them the pass, shrugging his shoulders and gingerly grabbing the flowers from them.

Countdown until you meet your soulmate: Uvogin

Never paid attention to the timer until Nobunaga pointed out that it was getting extremely low, in all honesty Uvogin kinda wanted to be in a romantic setting. He had his flings here and there but it wasn’t real love; he never pursued anything more due to his… job. So when he caught their eye during a stroll I mean who wouldn’t notice a 8 foot giant walking around! But then when he bumped into them literally I mean he actually slammed into them kinda, his soulmate was a little intimidated But Uvogin let out a hearty laugh like he always does.

They were the one profusely apologizing before he said, “Nah don’t worry about it I could never be mad at a cutie like you.” Before walking off did they notice the countdown on your wrist was at 00:00.

Speaking to your soulmate during dreams: Shizuku

Shizuku was indifferent towards the whole idea, but she also didn't get the hype people would get with soulmates watching people raving about meeting their soulmate while boasting was confusing. Well that was before she got her soulmate method, falling asleep after shifting in her bed for forever Shizuku dreamt of beautiful scenery with a person whose face was blurred out. Finally the two came to the realization, after a long while, that they can talk to each other and share intriguing conversations but whenever they try to say anything about their personal lives other than nicknames the pair would wake up suddenly like they experienced a nightmare. Shizuku, to her surprise, remembered every little detail about the person who appeared in her dreams, the blurry marks on their body and the way everything but their face looked, finding them interesting but not having enough time to deliberately look for her destined partner she became content with the small moments they shared. While out after a mission she craved a strawberry cake slice she opened the door to her favorite cafe strutting comfortably to the desk worker who greeted her with a smile and voice she was all too familiar with.

“Hello, what can I get you today?” Flashing their signature customer service smile they continued, “Take your time there's a whole lot of options.”

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starlitiris · 9 months ago

Text

How the Phantom Troupe would respond to your kids asking where babies come from

the title says it all

this is gonna be a little short I made this in like 5 minutes, reader was kept gender neutral

and I included hisoka yw hisoka fans <3

AND TO THE PERSON WHO ASKED ME TO DO THE LOVE BITES HEADCANONS I SEE YOU AND I WILL WORK ON THAT SOON IVE JUST BEEN BUSY THIS WEEK

WARNINGS: none!

Chrollo

explains exactly how babies are made hopefully with minimal detail

Nobunaga

“Uuuhhhhhhhhhhh”

Feitan

“… uh. I dont know.”

and then walks away or immediately changes the subject

he knows. he knows where babies come from.

coward /j

Machi

“… ask your other parent”

Hisoka

“Good question! Let’s go ask your [parental term you prefer to be called].”

he’s doing this to you on purpose. not because he cant tell your child where babies comes from.

Phinks

“Uhh, shit, um. So- so when uh, two people love each other VERY much, uhh…”

Shalnark

“…”

He’s desperately calling you and asking you what the fuck he’s suppose to say

Franklin

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Shizuku

blinks

stares

“…”

“… the stork?”

Pakunoda

probably has the best response right next to Franklin honestly

gives the same speech as Phinks but without stuttering, swearing and sweating

Uvogin

“… Nah, I’m not ready to have that talk with you yet.”

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uvobreakmylegs · 6 months ago

Text

Ouroboros

this fic is one I wrote a long while ago as a lil sequel to @hypnoswrites's fic Vengeance Tastes Bitter and she gave permission for me to post :D

please be aware of the tags if you choose to check out either of these fics

Uvogin x female!reader

Warnings: kidnapping, captivity, mentions of death, mentions of murder, past noncon, mentions of suicide, threats of violence, abusive relationships, attempted murder, dubcon, smut, Uvogin being a bastard

Word Count: 2.9k

The sounds of a door abruptly opening and then slamming shut were what announced his arrival. And despite being used to the sound of his return, you still tensed up when you heard him approaching as you determined how long it would take for him to find you within the house.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn't very long.

Uvogin's gaze was on you the second he entered the kitchen, looking you over as you stood by the counter. You heard him hum to himself before he said anything to you, sounding slightly dissatisfied. Perhaps he was looking over the marks he'd left on your skin and was unhappy when he saw that they were fading.

Or perhaps it was because that you had yet to acknowledge him, instead keeping yourself turned away and looking out through the window at the scenery outside. The nice weather outside was a better thing to focus your energy on, though you wouldn't be able to ignore him for too much longer. He wouldn't allow that.

“Don't you have somethin' to say to me?” Uvogin asked you.

“…. I don't know what you want me to say,” you replied.

“What, you don't know that it's common courtesy to greet someone when they've returned home? Who raised you?”

That last comment stung.

“This isn't your home. It's not mine, either. Why the hell should I bother with that?” you asked bitterly.

“Because I want you to.”

He was enjoying this. You could hear it in his voice. And you already knew he had that usual victorious smirk on his face, pleased with himself that he had managed to make you snap at him.

Even though he liked the ways you would push back, he would expect you to comply at some point, and while you hated needing to bend to his will, things were better if you did that much.

Or at the very least, they were less violent.

Your shoulder's sagged as you sighed and then said, “welcome back.”

You then glanced over your shoulder to look at him.

He was smirking. As expected. Still getting a kick out of making you submit to him.

It had been several months since that fateful, awful day where you had convinced yourself that you could kill him and take revenge for your family. The day where he had soundly beaten you without even trying, and instead of taking your life for bothering him with the weak attempt, he had amused himself by humiliating you. Starting with pissing on you after preventing you from taking your own life and ending with him raping you repeatedly over a period of several hours.

He kept you at the camp he had set up for a few weeks after in the hopes that people would come looking for you so he could torment you even more by killing your would-be rescuers in front of you. But no one ever came, much to his disappointment and your relief, though it was depressing that no one seemed to have noticed that you were gone.

After that Uvogin traveled from place to place, moving from continent to continent while living a rather nomadic lifestyle. And he dragged you along with him, as you were there to be his greatest source of entertainment.

It was an existence that you despised. And he knew you felt as such.

He seemed to revel in that fact.

Uvogin tended to keep to less populated areas when it came to his camps. He seemed to genuinely enjoy surviving in the outdoors, so it was surprising when he had broken into the house you were currently in and announced that the two of you would be staying there. You could only assume that he wanted a change of pace.

You didn't complain, as it was nice to be able to sleep in a bed again, even if you did need to share with him. And Uvogin had seemed to have gotten that for you without killing someone for it, which helped in keeping you from feeling too guilty about staying in a stranger's house.

All you hoped for was that the actual owner of the house wouldn't come back while the two of you were still there. You knew what the outcome would be if that were to happen, and you would hate yourself even more if you were forced to stand to the side while someone died for no reason.

“Was that so hard?” Uvogin asked you, the stupid smirk still on his face. He was still trying to goad you into getting upset with him.

Instead you just sighed and turned away, looking back outside. The house he had found was still more on the outskirts of society, and not far from the kitchen window sat a mountain with a hiking trail where you regularly saw people walking through.

You had enough common sense to know that you couldn't go to anyone for help. Uvogin would just kill them.

And when he began to leave you alone in the house, he had warned against attempts to take your own life, telling you that if he did come back and find you dead, he'd go out and slaughter a hundred people. Even if you managed to escape him in death, he would go out of his way to make sure that someone paid the price, and he didn't care who it was.

A hundred people was a lot and it felt far too over the top when you heard it, but you didn't question him on how dedicated he was to that plan: you could absolutely see him carrying that out. And despite how tantalizing the knife block over to your right managed to be that promised you an easy way out, you kept yourself from going that far. No matter what, you couldn't give him any excuses to kill even more people.

The only way you could see yourself escaping him was if he finally got tired of you and killed you like you'd wanted for so long now.

It was an odd thing to wish that you would be so boring that he would kill you for it.

And unfortunately it seemed to be something that was easier said than done.

“What, nothing to say to that?”

When you didn't respond, you heard him hum to himself once again. Then he approached you, his footsteps sounding against the tile of the kitchen floor, and they stopped when he stood behind you, leaving very little space between the two of you.

Even without his nen, his presence was overwhelming. In part because of just how he towered over you and effortlessly made you feel smaller than you actually were. And Uvogin was clearly using that to his full advantage at the moment as he placed both of his hands on the edge of the counter, his arms on either side of your body as he kept you stuck in that spot. Any attempt to duck under his arms would just end with him holding onto you, so you stayed put. Even though him being in such close proximity wasn't ideal, at least he was keeping his hands to himself, if just for the moment.

Uvogin hummed to himself a third time.

“You've been quieter,” he said.

“Have I?”

“Yeah,” he answered flatly, “what's that about?”

“Why does it matter?” you asked.

“Because it makes you seem like you're up to something.”

“I'm not,” you said, then you added “I guess I'm just accepting my situation.”

He snorted at that.

“Accepting it, huh? Doesn't seem that way to me.”

“Okay,” you said, shrugging.

Uvogin didn't seem to buy your indifference.

“If you were really okay with this, I don't think you would've snapped at me earlier,” he said.

That time you didn't answer.

His gaze was heavy on you, and you swore you could hear the cogs in his mind turning as he tried to figure what would be the best way to deal with you. It'd be very easy for him to just hurt you, something he'd done many times before. What was stopping him from going that far right now was a mystery to you.

“It still seems like you're up to something,” he finally said.

“I'm not,” you answered.

But you couldn't help but add something else to that.

“Why does this even matter to you? Most of the time you're only interested in fucking me.”

He sounded pleased with himself when he answered with a “yeah.”

“But I've come to like our conversations,” he added.

That makes one of us

Something like that probably would've been your response only a few months ago. When you had just a bit more fight in you and hoped that if you yelled and insulted him enough, he'd kill you.

But that sort of reaction was the thing he was looking for, and your goal was to disappoint him. Something that you were failing at in the moment, but you could still try.

He was quiet again, and this time you heard his fingers tapping against the surface of the counter.

It made things feel a bit more dangerous, for some reason.

After a few moments of that, he spoke again.

“What would their reaction be if they were still alive?” he asked.

You knew who he was talking about even without him saying it specifically: the dead members of your family, who he likely didn't even remember murdering or even why he had killed them. The whole reason this awful chapter in your life had started.

The question was a trap. You knew that much.

“If they were still alive we wouldn't be here,” you answered shortly.

“Hm. I guess.”

He leaned down closer and you felt his breath tickling your ear. Despite your attempts to keep yourself steady, you couldn't keep yourself from shuddering at the feeling.

You knew that he noticed because he chuckled at you.

“If your family knew what would happen after they died,” he asked, “if they knew that one day you'd fuck up your attempt at revenge so massively that it would end with you becoming my slave, how sad do you think they'd be?”

You didn't answer.

The knife block was still in view from the corner of your eye.

“What would they be thinking if they saw you all those times you came while my cock was buried inside of you?” he whispered, “knowing that their last surviving member was the one who was getting off with help from the guy who killed them? How disgusted would they be? If they saw just how much of a slut-”

You grabbed a knife and tried to stab him in the face.

Uvogin caught your wrist, the blade of the knife mere inches away from his eye.

And he grinned as he tightened his grip around your wrist, forcing you to open your hand and drop the knife.

He won.

Again.

He'd been goading you again and you hadn't been able to help but fall right into his trap.

It went without saying that something bad was coming your way.

“That seems a bit extreme, doesn't it?” he asked you, glancing down at the knife where it lay on the floor.

“You're a piece of shit,” you hissed.

“I think we established that a while ago, babe,” he said.

Then he let you go and pulled away from you. Your hand immediately went to the aching area around your wrist, and when you looked back up at him, he was standing at full height with his hands on his hips and an expectant look in his eye.

You knew what he wanted. You'd seen that look often enough to know what it meant.

But for some reason, you decided to play dumb.

“What?” you asked.

“What, you want me to spell it out for you?” he asked back, “on your knees.”

“No.”

It would still happen. You knew that, but you didn't want to submit completely. It went against your strategy of being as boring as possible, but after trying to take out his eye with a knife, you figured there was no point in trying to keep up with that. Not for today, at least.

Instead of slapping you around before forcing you to your knees, Uvogin hummed to himself. Then his eyes went to the window behind you, as though he caught sight of something, and he smirked to himself.

That was what made you nervous. And your nervousness turned to dread after he motioned for you to look out as well and you saw what he had spotted.

Two people along the hiking trail.

Despite the distance between you and them, you got the sense that they were a couple. Something in the way they walked together, or when one of them looked back to the other. Just two people out on a hiking date.

Two completely innocent people who didn't deserve death.

The cracking of Uvogin's knuckles had you spinning back around, and he gave you a toothy grin as he said “I guess if you don't want to…”

He then turned as though he was going to leave the kitchen.

Placing a hand on his arm, you stopped him.

Like he knew you would.

When he turned back to you with that smirk still on his face, you did as he wanted and went down to your knees. It felt uncomfortable against the tile of the kitchen, but you told yourself that it could be worse. At least you weren't out in the open with stones digging into your skin while your leg was broken.

Pulling down the hem of his shorts revealed that he was already semi-hard. You frowned as you took his length in hand and began to stroke it. It wasn't long before he was fully erect, and you moved in closer to place a kiss on the tip.

“You can do better than that.”

There was a familiar feeling of a hand at the back of your head, and then you were being pushed in closer, the tip of his cock smearing precum over your lips before you forced your mouth open so he could shove the head inside.

“That's more like it,” he said, although it seemed he was saying that more to himself.

You fell into a rhythm that you knew well by now; your tongue glided over cock while you stroked whatever didn't fit. All the while he stared down at you with a triumphant look on his face.

He'd get bored of you eventually. That was what you told yourself. A man like him would one day get tired of you, when you would no longer give him any new or interesting reactions. And getting rid of you would be as simple as crushing your head beneath his foot.

Not today. You'd messed that up royally.

But eventually….. Eventually you'd get out of this hell.

Uvogin's grip on your hair got tighter and he pushed his cock into your mouth as far as he was able when he finally came. He kept you there for a while, ignoring the way you slapped his thighs to try and tell him that you needed air.

With a content sigh he finally let you go, allowing you to fall backwards onto the tile of the kitchen while you sputtered, coughing up remnants of his release. One may have thought you would've been used to something like that by now, but it always managed to feel like too much.

You were expecting more taunts from him, more goading insults to upset you further so you felt even more helpless when he would force himself upon you once again.

Yet nothing like that ever came.

And when you looked back up at him, it seemed as though he was thinking about something.

He snapped out of it when you made eye contact, however, and he grinned at you once more.

“You wanna stay here or go to the bedroom?” he asked.

“…. Bedroom.”

No sooner had you said that, he had bent down and scooped you up, throwing you up onto his shoulder just as he had done on that first day, and he began to march you over to the bedroom.

What happened next was expected: he threw you down onto the bed, tore your clothes off and roughly fingered you for a few moments before slamming his length into you. It hurt and you hated it, but you did your best to take it.

His mouth ended up on your neck faster than you were expecting, however, sucking on your skin to place new marks over the older, fading ones.

His lips were also faster in catching yours for a kiss, and when he pulled away, he saw the look of confusion on your face.

“What, you still gonna be a bitch about that?” he asked.

“…. Do what you want,” you answered, officially giving up.

“I intend to.”

Uvogin went back to marking up your neck, and in between leaving those marks, you heard him mutter “keeping you was the best decision I ever made.”

…. That was a little worrying, but your focus went back to the way he thrust into you.

One day this would end. He'd lose interest in you and then it would be over. He was just lying to try and upset you further.

….. Right?

#reader insert #yandere x reader #yandere uvogin #uvo x reader #uvogin x reader #hxh uvogin #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere #yandere hxh #hxh x reader

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shalscumbunny · 6 months ago

Text

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 🖤

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citrus-writing · 7 months ago

Note

How do you think the Phantom Troupe members will react to the reader almost passing out while having sex with them?

// Yandere phantom troupe members react to darling nearly passing out during sex with them //

I kept the reason darling nearly passed out vague, since the yanderes wouldn't know the reason, and because one isn't specified. ( However, my assumptions when writing these were something related to fear or nervousness, weakness or pain, or a pre-existing medical condition or some sort- so these can be read with those scenarios in mind, but doesn’t have to be. )

Warnings: nsfw, dub-con / non-con, sorta somnophilia, some of these are fluffy and sweet but some are a little bit dark

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

Yanderes that are worried about you, immediately stopping what they had been doing to comfort you and make sure you’re ok.

Chrollo, uvogin, illumi

Chrollo-

Chrollo is so romantic and caring towards you, he always takes great care and precision in caring for you- from undressing you to preparing you for him, he’s diligent and incredibly in tune with your needs and desires.

He kisses down your body with fervor, mouth hot and tongue insistent at all your weak spots, hands following close behind, trailing down your body as well. You’re perfect- soft and beautiful and all his his his. He’s always enamored with the sounds you make, nearly overwhelmed with the pleasure he always gives you, he always loves the face you make, face all flushed and eyes hazy with pleasure.

That’s why it catches him so off guard when he notices the way you seem less steady; even while laying down, it’s obvious you’re growing dizzy, disoriented, face becoming slightly paler. Your hands grip at the sheets, knuckles nearly white from the force.

“My love, are you alright?” he asks, stopping whatever he’d been doing to give his full attention to your face and your words. He can't hide the worry in his voice, nor the worried expression he wears. How could he even think to hide such things when you’re so unsteady in his arms.

“Do you need me to stop?” he soothes- he won't mind if you do need to stop, or slow down- after all, you’re the light of his life, everything he does is for you. Besides, he’d never turn down the opportunity to dote on you and take care of you.

Uvogin-

Uvogin is aware he can be overwhelming- from the overzealous roughness of his touch to the sheer size of him, he knows that sex with you can be overwhelming for you, and, if he’s not careful, even painful. That’s why he’s always so careful with you, doing his best to go slow and take good care of you- you, his darling. Because he adores you, and he needs you to enjoy the things he does to you. He needs to see your mouth fall open in a moan so loud it’s nearly a scream, he needs to hear the way your scream out his name.

When you start to become overwhelmed, body growing shaky and fingers and thighs trembling, he eases up immediately, slowly coming to a stop. Had he gotten too caught up in the moment? Had he gotten a little rough with you? He’s gotten used to watching for signs of discomfort in you, always a little too aware of the way you struggle to take him, so he notices immediately when you start to feel out of it.

“Hey, you alright?” he asks you. “Was that too much?” he knows he caught your discomfort before it could get bad, with you already looking like you're doing a little better. You’ve stopped trembling so much, face growing a little less flushed, eyes returning from the edge of teariness. He runs a comforting hand through your hair, down your back, pulling you close to him. “I’ve got you, you’re alright.”

Illumi-

Of course illumi notices when you start to act distant, nothing ever gets past those wide eyes, especially not when they’re so focused on you- on your face and your body and those sounds you make that make him so hot he can hardly stand it. The first thing he notices is your sounds, growing less so pleasured and more so desperate in a way that almost sounds like pain, and is definitely discomfort.

“Darling?” he asks, not yet letting up on the motion of his movements, “is it too much?” it’s hard for him to tell how you’re feeling at any given moment- after all, he’s mastered being able to push through any discomfort, but you haven't, you’re so sweet and gentle compared to him, and he needs to remind himself of that often to avoid pushing you too far.

You nod weakly, a little embarrassed, and a little nervous to disappoint him. He stops his movements instantly, as if you had stopped him yourself. His eyes watch you as you take a moment you steady yourself, obviously trying to gather the strength and composure to explain yourself. And he’d let you explain, but not right now.

“Don't speak, let me get you something to drink, and help you get cleaned up.” he knows by now you wont fight him on this, when he made up his mind about something it was made. He hates the thought of you in pain, especially from him. Whatever he did to overwhelm you, he’ll make it right.

-----

Yanderes that don’t stop, either too caught up in the moment or simply uncaring if you do pass out- after all, they’ll take care of you.

Feitan, phinks, nobunaga, shalnark

Feitan-

You feel too good- wrapped around him like a vice, squeezing so tight. It makes him almost dizzy himself, so when he watches your eyes grow hazy and your body starts to tremble, he thinks very little of it. Maybe even thinks it’s good, afterall, he loves knowing he has an effect on you.

It takes him a minute to realize how unsteady you are, not dizzy with pleasure necessarily but more so dizzy as you grapple with the edge of consciousness. “Too much?” he asks, voice tight, as he continues to push into you. He watches you nod, shaking hands reaching out to him to steady yourself.

He lets you tangle your arms around his shoulders, lets you seek out the sensations you need to keep you grounded, but he doesn't stop. He slows down, so slow he’s nearly stopped, but feitan continues to roll his hips into you in a desperate attempt to not let this end. Even just this is more that enough- benign buried to the hilt inside you is perfect, how can he complain when you’re so fucked out that you can hardly stay coherent.

“So good for me.” he whispers as he forces you to take it. The pace is slow but so so deep, and he watches your face with an intensity that doesn't help you calm down at all, but a part of you really wants to be good for him, so you fight not to struggle against him as you struggle equally hard to stay awake.

Phinks-

Phinks always struggles to hold back, especially with you- his beloved darling, but he’d been so sure that he’d been doing a good job at not going too rough, not fucking you as hard and fast as he wanted to- and god, he wants to.

It catches him off guard when you look up at him with such hazy eyes, lip worried between your teeth, clearly overwhelmed and uncomfortable. Fuck, fuck. “Hey, you’re alright.” he soothes, shifting his weight to free a hand to push your hair away from your face. Looking closer, he can see the telltale signs of being near losing consciousness- the sweat, the paleness, the trembling. He hates that it isn't an immediate turn off- he hates that even with you so uncomfortable he desperately needs to fuck you through the orgasm that he’s sure is going to tear through him. Just a little more.

“Stay with me, stay with me.” he encourages, looming over you and arranging you into a better position, one where you can relax completely against the sheets. It makes him feel guilty, knowing even now he wont stop, but the way the new position seems to help you eases that guilt a little bit, enough for him to breathe a sigh of relief and continue to rut into you. “fuck, just a little more.” he soothes, watching as you nod nearly incomprehensibly.

Your perfect, he’s sure he’s close- was even before you started to get hazy from it all, but the way you lay back and take it- so willing, even now- has him fucking into you with a reckless adandon.

Nobunaga-

It takes nobunaga a minute to realize how out of it you are- after all, aren't you meant to be hazy, shaky, absolutely desperate? Aren't you meant to be unable to form words, too far gone in the pleasure he gives you? His delusional mind thinks so, and he does love the sight of your flushed cheeks and your desperate gaze.

“Can't take any more?” he asks you, watching the way your face changes as you struggle to comprehend his words. You shake your head, desperate to convey how lightheaded and uncertain you feel. “What’s that? Use your words.” he encourages, but quickly fucks himself into you harder, deeper, faster, and any words on your lips fail, all you can manage is a choked gasp as you feel any thought youd managed to scrape up disappear back into the void of your mind.

You look so good he can't help but kiss you- his lips pressed seamlessly to yours, tongue invading your mouth. It can help your overwhelmed state, he’s sure, but it does serve to pull more of those cute little noises from you, swallowed up in the kiss.

“Got nothing to say? That’s alright, I know what you need.” nobunaga knows your body well by now, he knows how to bring you closer and closer to the edge, he knows how to make you squirm and whimper, and he’s certain that he’ll be able to push you over the edge of consciousness as well. The very thought of being allowed to fuck your unconscious body has him fucking into you with renewed fervor.

Shalnark-

Shalnark notices fast the way your breath grows ragged, the way your eyes grow teary. It makes him smile, he’s too much for you, already got you on the edge of consciousness and he’s just getting started.“You’re so cute.” he’s not going to stop, not when you look like THIS, fucked out and desperate and teary eyed. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, charmed by the way you clumsily reciprocate, likely on instinct, because it’s obvious your mind is somewhere else- or, more likely, your mind isn't anywhere right now.

Shalnark never has trouble taking more from you than you can handle, and this is no different, in fact, this is even more so the case because you can't seem to beg him to stop. “take it, take it.” he accentuates each word with a particularly deep thrust into you, forcing a desperate cry from your lips each time. You seem a little too far gone to really decide if you need to stop or not, so he’ll decide for you, he doesn't mind. “don't worry baby, you’re alright.”

Even if it’s too much for a cute little thing like you to handle, shalnark knows he isnt hurting you, and that gives him all the certainty he needs to continue fucking into you like he so desperately wants. And if you lose consciousness, it will only further establish the power he had over you, allowing him to truly do anything he wants with you. It’s perfect, so please, feel free to let go. “you can let go if you want. I’ve got you.”

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dioslesbianwife · 12 days ago

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Hey, don't know if you're still doing hxh, but could you do the PT (not necessarily with hisoka, but with illumi and kurapika) with a s/o whos like, very very pretty (like, boa hancock level) but very very affectionate (kinda obssessive) and loyal? If it's not too much to ask, I'd like their technique to be sum' alike to immortality, but like, elaboratin': the user got their core into a straw doll, wich mean their body can be hit in all ways but wont die unles the straw doll is destroyed. Thank you :)) 💗 have a very nice day/night. Sorry for askin too much!!!

hii yep i definitely do hxh, just usually get a lot more jojo reqs, so there's more space between the hxh ones lol. thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy (also have a good day to u too) <333

Chrollo Lucilfer:

Chrollo finds your loyalty both endearing and beneficial. He’s used to betrayal and deceit, so having someone who would die for him (but never actually die thanks to your ability) is fascinating.

Your constant affection, however, is a bit overwhelming at first. Chrollo isn’t used to someone being so devoted, but he finds it oddly comforting.

He’s highly intrigued by your immortality technique. You explained how your core was in the straw doll, and he spent hours examining it with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

Chrollo doesn’t mind your obsessive nature, as long as you remain useful and don’t compromise the Troupe’s goals. He’ll likely encourage your loyalty as long as it’s directed solely at him.

Sometimes, he’ll test your devotion by giving you dangerous tasks, knowing you’ll do anything to make him happy.

Pakunoda:

Pakunoda adores how affectionate you are, always giving you soft smiles when you cling to her. She might tease you for being so clingy, but it’s clear that she likes the attention.

Your loyalty gives her a sense of security. Knowing you’d follow her anywhere and do anything for her makes her feel valued.

When you explain your ability, she’s fascinated and a bit worried. She gently cups your face and reminds you to be careful with that doll, knowing it’s the only thing that can truly harm you.

If anyone in the Troupe questions your usefulness, Pakunoda is the first to defend you, highlighting your unwavering loyalty.

She’s not too bothered by your obsession since it’s directed at her. In fact, she kind of likes having someone so utterly devoted.

Nobunaga:

Nobunaga is smitten with your beauty and isn’t shy about pulling you into his lap or keeping you close. Your clinginess doesn’t bother him; he’s equally as possessive.

He enjoys showing you off to the others and isn’t afraid to get into a fight if someone dares insult you.

When you first explain your immortality ability, Nobunaga doesn’t quite believe it until he tests it (by accidentally slashing your arm in a spar). When you just smile and assure him you’re fine, he’s impressed.

He still worries about the straw doll, though. You’ll catch him keeping it on him sometimes, as if protecting it from potential threats.

He loves how you constantly dote on him, and he’ll always return the favor, not at all bothered by your obsessive devotion.

Shizuku:

Shizuku is mostly indifferent to your constant affection, but she doesn’t push you away. She’s more likely to just sit there as you cling to her, sometimes forgetting you’re even there.

Your obsession goes over her head, but she never complains. If anything, she’s just happy to have someone so loyal.

When you explain your ability, she nods, then promptly forgets. You’ll have to remind her several times that the doll is important.

She might accidentally vacuum up the doll once, and you’ll have to explain why your heart suddenly stopped.

Your affection and loyalty make her happy, even if she doesn’t always show it. She’s just glad to have you by her side.

Franklin:

Franklin is surprisingly gentle with you, despite your clinginess. He doesn’t mind you hanging off his arm or nuzzling into his side.

Your loyalty actually means a lot to him, especially because he’s seen how easily people can turn on each other.

When you explain your ability, he listens carefully and makes a mental note to keep the doll safe. He respects your resilience and your willingness to put yourself in danger.

Your obsession doesn’t bother him, but he’ll remind you to be mindful around the other members, just in case they don’t appreciate the same level of affection.

Franklin wouldn’t use your weakness against you, he’s more of a protector and would rather ensure your safety.

Machi:

Machi acts annoyed by your clinginess but secretly likes how affectionate you are. You’re probably the only one she lets hang on her without getting punched.

Your loyalty makes her feel a bit guilty sometimes, as she wonders if she deserves it.

She’s fascinated by your immortality ability but also worries about the straw doll’s safety. You’ll catch her sneaking glances at it from time to time.

If anyone threatens you, Machi is the first to take them out, no questions asked.

She’d never admit it, but your devotion makes her heart flutter.

Bonolenov:

Bonolenov is a bit perplexed by your obsession, but he doesn’t mind the attention. He might question why you’re so devoted, but your unwavering loyalty eventually wins him over.

He’s very intrigued by your ability, seeing it as almost mythological.

Your clinginess doesn’t bother him too much; he just quietly accepts it, even if it’s unusual for him.

Bonolenov would make sure to keep the doll safe during combat, knowing it’s your weak point.

Your constant presence becomes a comforting part of his routine.

Kortopi:

Kortopi is shy and usually keeps to himself, so your affection can be overwhelming at first.

Once he gets used to it, he finds it oddly comforting, especially since you never seem to get tired of his quiet company.

He’s amazed by your immortality ability and might touch the doll curiously, trying to figure out how it works.

Your obsession doesn’t bother him; if anything, it’s nice to have someone who doesn’t shy away from his oddities.

He won’t actively protect the doll, but he’ll remember to keep it safe.

Phinks:

Phinks is a bit confused by how clingy you are at first, but he quickly becomes protective of you. He likes the idea of having someone so devoted to him.

Your constant affection makes him feel special, though he’ll grumble and act annoyed just to mess with you.

He’s impressed by your immortality ability, but he’s also wary of the straw doll. He keeps an eye on it, knowing how reckless you can be.

Your obsession doesn’t bother him at all. In fact, he kind of enjoys being the center of your world.

If anyone insults your loyalty or mocks your affection, Phinks will threaten to break their jaw.

Shalnark:

Shalnark finds your clinginess adorable and has no problem reciprocating. He’s happy to indulge your affectionate nature, even if it means letting you hang off him all the time.

Your loyalty makes him a little smug; he likes knowing you’re so attached.

Your immortality ability is super interesting to him. He’ll casually ask about the doll and how it works, but he’s respectful enough not to test its limits.

Shalnark would subtly use your obsession to his advantage, coaxing you into helping him with different things by playing on your loyalty.

If you’re ever feeling insecure, he’ll give you an extra dose of his usual charm to cheer you up.

Uvogin:

Uvogin adores how clingy and affectionate you are. He’s loud, brash, and unapologetic about showing off how much you love him.

Your obsession actually amuses him, and he’ll tease you about how you can’t get enough of him.

When you explain your immortality ability, he just laughs and says, “Good! That means I don’t have to hold back in a fight!”

He’s protective of the doll, though. If anyone tries to mess with it, Uvo will crush them without a second thought.

He’s oddly proud of having someone so pretty and devoted at his side and loves to brag about you to the other Troupe members.

Feitan:

Feitan doesn’t know how to handle your constant affection at first. He’s not used to being doted on, and it makes him a bit awkward.

He’ll pretend to be annoyed when you’re clingy, but if you try to pull away, he’ll grab your hand and refuse to let go.

Your immortality ability intrigues him, and he might give the doll a curious poke to see your reaction. He never means to hurt you, though, just testing.

Your obsession makes him secretly pleased. He won’t admit it, but he likes how devoted you are and might even become a bit possessive himself.

If anyone tries to harm the doll, Feitan will take it as a personal offense and deal with them swiftly.

Illumi Zoldyck:

Illumi is indifferent to your clinginess at first, but he grows to appreciate it. You’re almost like his loyal pet, devoted, affectionate, and always at his side.

Your obsession doesn’t bother him. In fact, it’s quite practical. He knows you won’t betray him, and that makes you valuable.

He’s fascinated by your immortality technique and might even test it himself just to see how resilient you are.

He’ll make sure the doll is secure, not because he’s protective but because he wants to ensure his possession (you) stays intact.

Illumi will use your obsession to his advantage, assigning you tasks knowing you’ll do anything for him.

Kurapika:

Kurapika is initially overwhelmed by your clinginess. He’s not used to someone being so affectionate and doesn’t quite know how to respond.

Your loyalty makes him feel conflicted, especially because he’s worried about losing someone close to him again.

When you explain your immortality ability, Kurapika is relieved but still cautious. He insists on keeping the doll safe, even if you assure him it’s fine.

Your obsession worries him a bit. He wants to make sure you’re not putting yourself in unnecessary danger for his sake.

Over time, he learns to relax around you, and your affection becomes something he genuinely looks forward to. He’ll never admit it, but he feels more at ease when you’re around.

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0asisbliss · 1 year ago

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Oh how he couldn’t breath without you. Oh how he needed you. His heart belonged to you in every way. He would risk everything for you. The feeling wasn’t foreign. No. Just because he felt something he’s never felt anything in a long time, or never at all. Was it love, or lust? Either way he must have his way with you. And he’ll stop at nothing to get that.

GOJO, Geto, SUKUNA, CHOSO, Yuuta, Yuuji, (JJK) L Lawliet, Light, Matsuda, (DN) Luffy, ACE, Law, Sanji, Shanks, (OP) Ranpo, DAZAI, Chuuya, (BSD) Aizawa, All might, Present Mic, (MHA) Shalnark, Uvogin, KURAPIKA, Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks, Shizuku, Illumi, (HXH) Giyuu, Sanemi, Gyomei, MUZAN, (DS) or any of your other favs.

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hhighkey · 10 months ago

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Cry-Baby // Phinks, one shot - part of hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: implied past kidnapping, emotional manipulation, possessive/overprotective tendencies, rough sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, overly sensitive / easy to manipulate reader, phinks is not the good bf reader thinks he is, reader is unaware of the troupe until halfway, panic attacks, anger issues Note: around 13.2k words, ao3 link: xxx , this one shot is a big expansion off the smut headcanon I did awhile ago for Phinks. This has references to my Uvogin oneshot 'Taken' as his partner is the Reader from that (she's unnamed), and my Feitan one shot 'An Ode to...' is referenced slightly. On ao3 I have these one hits in a series for like a ‘phantom troupe universe’ so there's some overarching themes / connections going on. which reading the others aren't needed tho if u don't want!

It didn't take much, the TV channels with the abandoned dogs or a too sappy book, even your favorite ice cream being sold out. You'd be tearing up, lash line wet and moist as tears slowly dripped down. A tightening in your sensitive chest as you desperately tried to stop the looming cries that always found their way out.

Since the day a tall muscular, handsome blonde in a tracksuit walked into your life, everything changed. At first overwhelming joy over the man who memorized your coffee order, brought you tulips after you said you liked them in passing. Even your elderly next door neighbor adored him and she was a tough nut to crack.

You weren't sure when it changed. Six months of spending time together, careful glances as you saw how Phinks had immeasurable strength yet he'd blush at the smallest of things that came to you.

So when did your life take a hard right turn? Had it really been the moment you meant Phinks, or was it when you told him about your new job opportunity with relocation? You remembered the panic on his chiseled features, how he ran his thick fingers through his combed blonde locks. How your back hit the wall as he stood over you, apologies spilling from his lips and then black.

Intense grief over your past life and sudden lack of freedom contributed to the constant tears of your already sensitive state. Did you necessarily care that the man you loved was insanely protective, not allowing you to leave his home? And that your poor, soft head never once considered it to be kidnapping? Once dreaming of the day he asked you out but now he wanted you by his side forever? Phinks tried his best, he really did, leaving the room if a fight got intense, body language the epitome of a dangerous man when angry. Even as his fists clenched in anger because you refused something. Let you yell at him. Let you have your moments to starve yourself just to spite him. But the man knew how to woo- from your favorite music to shows, to learning to bake with you. His hot temper and possessive tendencies meant little when he babied and cared for you every turn.

One day, you supposed you'd just snapped that your relationship with Phinks was more important than being able to have a phone or shop on your own. Or perhaps you gave into the feelings that were already there before he took you. You just stopped fighting the claws of doubt that nudged at your mind that kidnapping someone was not normal, that you can't be with him now. That meant little once you finally pressed your lips to his out of the blue and his tense muscled melted against you. Once you remembered a book you read in school, an intense look into the life of a woman who had intense Stockholm Syndrome and the psychology into it. You cried and cried over the book. Mourned for the fictional character, but somehow, in a messed up way you kept finding yourself rooting for their love. Maybe that was a big reason the author wrote it. You didn’t believe your love for Phinks was based on a psychological abuse based bond.

Phinks took you because he feared he’d lose you, he’d apologized for his mistakes. He never got violent towards you when business went bad or you’d not communicated in a way he needed while traveling. And that was good enough for you.

Oh you could not wait for him to get home, he'd called the landline this morning to let you know he was on his way. You could jump for joy, heart racing with every growing excitement, fluttering nerves as you'd cleaned the townhome all morning.

You glance to the timer, the minutes ticked down to when your garlic butter pull-away bread would be done- Phinks’s favorite. Growing up, your mother always emphasized the importance of a clean home, of cooking and preparing a meal for someone after a long day's work. You hoped she'd be impressed with the life you had with Phinks.

'Alright,' you smiled to yourself as a faint alarm went off. Grabbing the oven mitts, you pulled the perfectly golden loaf out and placed it on the cooling rack. Oven now off you left the kitchen to change.

It was almost time for Phinks to arrive home. You’re too impatient by that point, keep looking at the clock in your bedroom. The scent of him that lingered on the pillow you liked to hug close was no longer comforting in his place. With a smile you wanted to dress up better, so you made your way to the closet to pick a dress.

"Babe?" The front door to your shared townhome slammed shut. Phinks's voice carried up the stairs even though you heard him going towards the kitchen most definitely smelling the fresh bread.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, a gentle smile as you smoothed down your dress. It was a new one Phinks had given you with a blush, saying he saw it and figured you'd look cute. And seeing him so embarrassed made you giddy, excited for him to see you in it.

And of course you'd let him know you missed him the last few days he'd been gone on a business trip.

"Hey, coming down." You called out, making your way to the stairs. You saw his bag dropped at the door with shoes discarded, mentally making a note to straighten them up.

"There you ar-" Phinks stopped mid sentence as his gaze lasered on you, he always hated having you out of his sight, made him nervous. His pupils went big as they traveled along every inch of skin, raking in the dress that fit your body perfectly, "Shit you look good."

"Think so?" You blushed, nervous as you gave him a little spin.

"Know so."

Phinks wasted no time to grab your waist and pull you into him. He breathed in your scent as he peppered kissed onto the top of your head. He relished in how you squeezed him, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Missed you." You whined before giving him your best puppy eyes, "You aren't leaving anytime soon again right? Been gone a lot lately and I hate sleeping alone."

"Aw baby," Phinks cooed, "You're adorable. Hate being away from you, you know that right?"

You nod, enthused and burning with want. Liquid heat spreads throughout your core as his hands slyly inch closer, "I know." It never took long for Phinks to get you undressed and pliant beneath him, completely at his mercy. The feeling of his warm body encapsulating yours was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his cologne. Light kisses fanned your hot skin as he reclaimed your lips for the nth time, meshing into a feathery pure want.

It was those kisses, how you found yourself stripped, panties discarded and the top of your dress pulled down enough to free your breasts, the skirt hiked up. His fingers dig into your hips and you think you’ll have bruises for days from how his hips had thrusted into your cunt for the last hour. Sounds of slapping skin still reverberated in your ears as beads of sweat littered his skin, muscles always flexing with every movement.

"Oh baby," Phinks cooed as he stroked your cheek, fingers pinching and squeezing your wet stained flesh.

You were a mess. Shaking hips and messy hair, eyeliner smeared under the waterline. Phinks had made you cum more times than ever already since got back and started with his head between your legs. So poor little you was a babbling mess with clouded, lust filled thoughts.

Phinks preferred you this way, well-behaved and hazy, gasping for breath underneath him with your calves resting on his biceps. You're so dazed you barely notice how his thumb flicks to your sensitive clit making your lower body spasm,

"Oh!" you gasp as you see stars. And it's all becoming too much. How hot your body is, how untamable a fire within you is as your hips buck and knots tighten in your abdomen. "Too much Phinks!! Can't-"

And that's when your tears fall. As if all cords and knots snapped at once your mind glittered with pleasure- too much pleasure that it was painful. So much so that you let out an honest to god sob as pools of wetness stain your flushed cheeks. Phinks hips stuttered for a second, coming to a halt as he watched you cry with love in his eyes. The way you were a goddess underneath him, how your face contorted and with hips giving him perfect friction.

"Oh fuck baby- that's hot, keep fucking crying for me." Phinks pressed into you more as he spoke low like a threat, cock pistoning against your cervix as he abused your clit, his thumb determined to stay put as you squirmed. Seeing the puddles fall from your eyes made him shake, a shiver running down his spine.

And tears fell faster from his words alone as your abdomen burned. You barely recognize the whines leaving your lips through sniffles and cries, and snot begins to drip. Your poor wrists burn from the rope that tied them to the bed frame, the helplessness turning you on even more.

Phinks face was inches away as he loomed over you, his pupils blown wide as he grinned past his canines. He found it so fascinating how the tears rolled down staining the sheets around your head. Fascinating that he could give you, his pretty little girl, such pleasure like rapture that you were weeping. Your breath fanning across his face with desperate whimpers from the deep of your throat sent him over the edge. Each intake of air was a job in itself, ragged breathing as you clawed at any of his skin you could grasp.

"Phinks! M' too full- too much-"

Phinks just grunts. Braced himself over you as he suddenly left you empty, just the utmost tip of his long cock inside your gummy walls. A cocky smirk danced across his face and chiseled cheekbones, utterly obsessed with you, twisted feelings in his chest. Your dilated irises, fidgeting and thrashing figure from electricity that corrupted you- made him growl as tears continued to roll down your puffy cheeks. And how as he slammed his hips to yours- to the hilt- deeper- making a cry leave you as a bulge formed in the low plush of your abdomen- made the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. Liked how he could see himself in you- liked how as he pressed down on your tummy you shrieked and cried, begging him to stop as you came, feeling too full, too out of control. Squirt dribbled from your swollen hole as he wiped away at translucent liquid dripping down your face. Blank eyes. All empty on your fucked out face because of him.

He fucked you through your nth orgasm, grunting and gasping as the squelching noises from your dripping, swollen cunt rang through the air. "You're my good girl aren't ya? Such a pretty baby crying while I fuck your tiny cunt. Gonna fill that greedy tight pussy, princess.”

You cried, nodding your head furiously begging him to cum inside you, as if you'd die if he didn't.

"Yeah? Know you like it when I cum inside you- beg me- please- need to hear you." And just like that he fell apart. The side of Phinks only you ever got to see. So demanding, so rough, but just a lovesick fool for your crying form shoved full with his cock.

"Ah Phinks-" you were seeing stars, vision slowly going in and out as intense waves of pleasure took over you as your cunt squeezed the life from your lover's cock, "Love you Phinks—" you were babbling, rambling unable to speak straight, "I need you- inside me- m' my pussy needs you."

"Fuck." He grunted as his climax was raining down on him, "All mine, babe." Phinks saw white as he came, falling down on you as he shoved his face into your neck. His cock was to the hilt, shoved into your womb as you dry sobbed leaving deep nail marks on him. Your stomach expanding as his warm cum swarmed your insides, leaving you fuller than you'd been before. Gasping and hugging him close, legs wrapped around his waist so he couldn't leave you- not like he would. The way he nipped at your skin, sucking and nibbling along your collarbone and lower neck. How he ground his still hard and pulsing cock against your spasming walls that just sucked him in.

His calloused hands soon came into contact with your face as he pushed up, adoringly staring down. He wiped away your loose tears earning him a tiny smile he so loved to see.

"You always take me so well," and your chest soared as he kissed your forehead. You'd done well for him! His good girl!

The tears soon dried completely as you'd find yourself in a warmed lathering bath- Phinks doting on your every move whilst unbeknownst to you, the faint sound of the news in the living room was talking about a specific criminal organization.

"Are you ready to finally meet Uvogin and his girl?"

You nodded ecstatically, "Yes, yes, so excited to meet her, no offense to Uvogin."

"Figured you would be, he won’t care he’s probably only comin’ for the food. Woulda loved to have you meet her a few months ago but her health was bad, Uvo wanted to make sure she was hundred percent before meeting new people. Some disease involving her lungs wasn't paying attention."

"I understand, that's scary." You hummed, kneading dough for its final stretching. Though you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's ability to relay information regarding others, "This needs another 45 minutes to sit and rise some more, then it can go in the oven."

"Which is my job right?"

"Yes don't want to burn myself." You purse your lips, "Feel like something's missing though."

"Like what?" Phinks wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Don't know, maybe an ingredient?" You looked about your organized mess before a lightbulb went off in your head, "Oh, the fruit, can you get the cantaloupe out and cut it into cubes?"

"Yes ma'am." He kissed your head again before going to cut the fruit.

Boy did Phinks make cooking an extensive meal easier (though at first it was substantially harder by his lack of knowledge or experience). He’d handle anything too hot, he was better with knives, and no longer did you have to mix until an arm cramped. You liked the cute overly focused look that'd crease his brows and pursed his lips as he focused on a task you gave him. It warmed your insides at how dutiful he was towards you, how he enjoyed your girly hobbies as he’d call them.

Time went by too fast whenever you cooked, and it felt as if you never left yourself enough of it. You cut it too close for comfort, the food ready a minute before the sound of the doorbell went off. You’re in the middle of bringing dishes to the dining room table as two new voices meet your ears. Not able to stop the growing but, still nervous as you brushed along your pink apron.

“Babe,” Phinks voice called out, “C’mere.”

You obeyed as if on cue, “Hi.” As you walked from the open kitching to where they stood in the foyer, Phinks hugged you to his side.

“Uvo.” Said the largest man you’ve ever laid eyes on with a large grin. And Phinks is stifling laughter as you look Uvo up and down with parted lips, head cocked to the side. Even the girl besides Uvo attempts to hold amusement too.

Uvogin introduced her to you, his fiancé, which had been news to Phinks. And earned him a glare for not knowing his friend got engaged when they recently moved right next door. The audacity of men.

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You said, politely pulling the large man's partner in for a hug. Everyone was small compared to Uvogin you thought, but this woman had an aura to her that pulled you in as if the giant didn't exist. Her smile was so warm and she smelled of fresh rose and pine. You note she’s frail, remembering what Phinks said about her health, and you loosen your arms on her.

“So,” You rub your hands together motioning for people to follow, “People hungry enough to eat?”

“I’m fuckin’ famished.” Uvogin helped his way to where the food sat out at the table; Different vegetables, cantaloupe, roasted lamb and a cinnamon loaf. From the corner of your eye you see his fiance scolding him as he tried to grab a piece of meat, and for a moment you felt a surreal sense of belonging. To see them seeing so content together, you hoped that was how you and Phinks came across, since interactions with others were so limited.

You gave the table a final look as the three of them sat down, needing one last thing you moved to the kitchen. The sound of cell phones going off is easily recognizable as you grab napkins and a serving spoon. Glancing across the island you see Phinks typing away at his phone. A chime went off and then another. You watched as Uvogin and Phinks looked semi-annoyed scowling at the screens, “Huh.” Uvo muttered as he wrapped an arm over the back of his fiance’s chair. “What’s normally on Channel 5?”

“What?” She asked him, sending you an annoyed look that read ‘Men’ as you placed napkins around the circular table.

“Dunno. Y/N could you grab the remote since you’re up?” Phinks asks.

“Of course, one sec, the remote is over there.” You say, padding over to the loveseat on the other side of the room where Phinks was watching something earlier.

Clicking the TV on you find it was already set to Channel 5, immediately fixated on the news, showing pictures of a gruesome crime scene. Turning the volume up, your stomach drops at the banner flashing on the screen in red ‘Phantom Troupe Strikes Again: 35 Dead, 12 Missing.’

“Oh my god,” You say with a gasp taking in the horrid sight, “That’s horrible.”

As you glance to where the other three stand, you immediately notice the discomfort. Uvogin and his fiance are staring dead at Phinks, while Phinks fingers flex at his side unblinking, directed at you.

“What?”

“She doesn’t know?” Uvo’s fiance asked in a hushed voice, you barely hear it.

“Know what?” You move forward, while she stares at you with wide eyes, immediately looking down at her plate.

“Oh- uh,” Phinks stammered as he quickly got up to make his way to you, “Just that news has been all over, she probably assumed you knew. Pretty scary.”

What you can see of her, Uvo’s partner didn’t have the ability to play it off. She seemed as if mentally transported elsewhere as she played with her fingers.

“We’re gonna get going...” Uvogin says abruptly. He shot Phinks a look and it makes you want to scream, feeling as if left out of one big joke.

“Turn that shit off.” Phinks is at your side faster than you’ve ever seen him move. You jumped back in shock, flinching from the dark look on his face. You’re frozen at the sound of the remote shattering against the wall.

It’s then that Uvogin is dragging his girl out with none of the food yet to be touched, but you catch her lips moving your way, you think she’s mouthing- ‘It’ll be fine.’ Not that it comforted you. The front door slammed. And then there were two.

Tension that could be cut with a knife. You inch away from him, gaze flitting from the now black screen of the TV to Phinks. Something tells you his outburst has to do with the news, why he always told you your soft brain couldn’t handle it. That he just wanted to protect you from bad things that’d make you cry.

“Phinks?” He doesn’t respond; fists clenched as he stares downwards. A bulging vein on his forehead tells you this is serious. “Tell me what's going on, why did they seem nervous? Why’d they leave so quickly? Did I do something wrong?”

“Thought I told you not to watch the news.”

“It was on when I turned it on Phinks, you were the last one who used it.”

“Shit.” He had been. He didn’t flip the stupid fucking channel or bother to remember which channel numbers lined up with which station.

“Please be honest, you and Uvo were having a conversation with your eyes! I feel like an idiot being left out of this. Why did she say ‘I didn’t know’ when I brought up the Phantom Troupe? And what you responded with doesn’t add up.”

“You’re gonna hurt your brain thinkin’ so hard babe. Let’s drop it.”

“You broke the remote by throwing it against the wall, Phinks.” You place your hands on your hip, frustration bubbling in your chest. “That was uncalled for especially in front of guests.”

“Fuck.” Phinks breathes heavy into his hands before pressing them against his forehead, “Fuck!”

You step back, swallowing hard. His outburst has your brow lining in sweat, terror pulsing at the back of your mind.

“Phinks?” The watergates opened as fat tears fell down your cheeks, “Y-you’re scaring me.”

You think he’ll comfort, explain it and take your fears away. But he doesn’t.

“Y/N.” His eyes look as if they’re screaming for your forgiveness. Slowly, Phinks tugs off his sweatshirt. Suddenly you felt as if the room increased a hundred degrees, you’re too hot, feeling like you’ll choke from the dense air. Then he strips off his shirt, “You know how I keep this covered, told you it was an embarrassing scar?” You nod. “It’s a tattoo.”

“Tattoo of what?” You whisper.

You were never bothered by the fact he kept a bandage-like piece on his right shoulder blade. You assumed it was so personal that eventually he’d open up. Because you trusted him.

But as his fingers peel it off, you catch sight of black ink.

A black spider with a number 5 inked in the middle stares back.

An incessant ringing blares in your ears. You’d heard of that tattoo, that it signifies the person is a spider, a fearsome thief of the underworld. A member of the Phantom Troupe. An urban legend your mom once told you about so you wouldn’t sneak out with a boy at 15, that you only recently learned was true.

“You’re- when you leave for work… What is it you do again? And don’t say some business- Tell me.” You say between your dry heaves, your sobs as you furiously wipe away tears.

“I’m a member of the Phantom Troupe babe, one of its founding members.”

Your head is spinning, legs wobble as you lose your balance. Phinks hurries to catch you as they give out, placing you on the couch, between your legs. But you push at his head and squirm back to get away. Shying into the couch cushions as you stare at him, eyes red.

“I- Don’t play with me. Please tell me you aren’t in that group! You can’t be.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t touch me.” You spit venom in your words as you rip your wrist from his grasp, holding it to your chest.

“Y/N this doesn’t change the fact I love you, doesn’t change anything here for us. Shouldn’t it prove to you that my vows to protect you are legitimate, that I’m strong enough to do so?”

“That’s your attempt to convince me?” It won’t stop, the downflow of tears and the running snot you wipe at. Your words turn to pathetic blubbering. "You.. kill people?"

Phinks nodded, huffing into his hands. The man is panicking, his chest tight with knots when all he wanted was to pull you into his arms. He considered forcing you down so he can explain, maybe fuck you so you feel good easily compliant. He needs you to give him a second, needs you to stop asking questions.

"Uvogin? Is he a member? Feitan too?”

“Yes.”

Fuck. Your world’s collapsing, you’re certain of it.

“D-Did he kidnap his fiancé too? Did Feitan kidnap his girlfriend as well?"

"Baby it's complicated, and well Feitan hasn't exactly made her his- Shit... Saying it like that sounds bad but-"

"It is bad! I-I forgot? I swore I was here because I realized there wasn't anything for me at home.. I loved you and.. Do you actually love me?" Your eyes welled with tears, sudden realization came back over you. You grieved for past life once, how did you forget that?

"Baby I do love you, you're safe with me, promise. It's me."

"You're a murderer." You emphasized, horrified and unable to push yourself against the wall anymore if you tried, "How many people had their lives ruined because of the Phantom Troupe?"

"I.. don't know. A lot."

Conflicting emotions wash over your fragile mind. The man who crouched a foot away from you looked as if his world was shattering down around him, like he was terrified to lose you. Yet he was a thief, a killer, and you realized he wouldn't let you walk out that door regardless of what you decided.

"You lied to me. I don't know who you are."

"Y/N fuck, it's me, promise nothing about who I am is a lie, only my occupation. I love you, I'd do anything for you." You flinched as he moved to sit in front of you on the edge of the couch, taking your face between his palms even as you flinch, "You're safe with me, I promise."

"Phinks..." You sniffled, "I.." At the end of all things, did that matter? What Phinks did for a living? He'd been nothing but a loving, supportive partner. The whiplash hurts. Your chest felt heavy, your breathing was too heavy as if your air was cut off. You think you’re going to pass out as you reach for him, eyes blinking furiously.

"Baby? Shit." He pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back in soothing circles, "Breathe for me, yeah? In. Out." You follow his orders, "Good girl, see?"

One deep breath after another and you regained your senses, his eyes boring into you.

"I need space tonight." You whimpered.

"Yeah, that's fine, I know you need to think."

You rubbed your arms, "I'm going to lay down to sleep, alone tonight. If you could please clean up the kitchen and table."

"I-" Phinks went to argue, no way in hell would he let you sleep without him while he was home. But he knew he needed you to have time to think, even if it were an illusion or lie because he'd join once you were asleep. Paranoia was heavy in his mind, ever growing as he thought of her without him. Even not knowing what she was thinking was close to setting him over the edge. But he loosened his imaginary grip and nodded, "Of course."

Your home moved by you as if you were a zombie, legs heavy as lead as you closed the door to the master bedroom. Locking it. Then unlocking it.

Sobs choked out. You clamped your hand over your mouth. Your legs gave out, back slid down against the door as your butt met the ground with a huff. Tears flooding once more, you let out a broken wail into your palms as you shoved your face into your flesh. Hugged your knees to your chest as painstaking agony pierced your limbs. You're gasping for air. Begging for a sense of relief. Crying that it hurts so bad.

You could feel Phinks's aura on the other side of the door after fifteen minutes, knowing he was sitting with his back against the wood the same as you. An unknown force had you wanting to shove your fingers under the door to get a touch of him, wanting to already fling the door open and collapse into him. Were you really that pathetic? Already compartmentalizing the fact the man you loved was a killer? When Phinks had told you about his upbringing it'd pulled your heart strings, having to survive with no parents, no money, no home? How uncanny that his hints slowly made sense. Could you... even blame him?

Groaning through your heavy gasps as you couldn't stop weeping, you felt light headed. You sucked in air far too sharp that had you spinning, ready to topple onto your side.

With wobbly legs you force yourself to stand, clumsily making your way over to the king sized bed. Collapsing atop you stare off at the wall, wetness falling down to your eyes, to your mouth, dripping down your neck. Oh it hurts. How your head began to pulse with heavy stabs up against your temple. Lips quivered. You pulled the blankets tight letting your fingers twist and tangle within them, needing anything to ground you.

Two questions spiraled. Would you really face the reality of your situation and that leaving a man like Phinks was smart? Or would you stay because you loved him? It alarmed you how easily you were willing to ignore Phinks was in the Phantom Troupe, that you'd already forgiven him. Forgive him? No, no, it wasn't you he needed to convince it was those he affected... which, deep down, you were glad he'd taken you. Because your kidnapping gave you a beautiful partner and life! Maybe you should tell him that!

So as exhaustion and confusion overtook your trembling form, you were plunged into a restless sleep. One that played the same nightmare on repeat, the cycle of meeting Phinks to the kidnapping, to your life together, and to now. Stuck at a crossroads of swirling doubt manifesting in dark fog that would only come to fruition if you made a choice. Your dream-self, your heart, wanted to be selfish, wanted to head down the path to Phinks no matter what. While your brain told you it'd make you complacent, that it'd be ridiculous to stay with a man like him. That one day maybe you’d become a victim in the crosshairs. Before the morning sun streamed unto you forcing you awake, your dream-self chose a path.

When you opened the bedroom door, stomach fluttering with thousands of butterflies that made you want to puke- to your surprise Phinks fell back, woken and onto his feet in seconds. He'd fallen asleep against the door, respected your decision to sleep alone which tugged on the depths of your heart.

Gazes locked and it was a battle of who'd speak first, though you hoped he'd leave the ball in your court. Phinks looked... scared? His eyes low, heavy bags beneath them. You desperately wanted to brush his messy hair back, to reprimand him not to sleep on hardwood! And you almost reached up but caught yourself, he glanced down to your hand.

"I.." You wonder how bad you look. Wonder how bloodshot your eyes are, how puffy your face is. And if he noticed, "Lets talk?"

Phinks grunted his answer. He wasn't always a man of many words, it took months for him to be more open, so you'd hate for him to shut down on you now.

You followed him downstairs, taking your places on the couch, an awkward space in between how your bodies turned to face the other. Phinks wanted to scoop you up to take all your troubles away, wanted to pepper your face with kisses until you'd cry of laughter. Didn't like how far you felt, a foot feeling like a mile. Even being able to hold your hand would have helped the torrential storm that raged within him; fear so strong he thought he couldn't breathe last night until he passed out in front of the bedroom. Like losing a piece of him that only you could complete.

You'd made up your mind that morning.

Staring at your fingers you tell yourself it would be okay, that you could tell him everything you wanted to get out.

“I have a lot to say.”

“Alright.” His voice sounds strained as he cracks his knuckles, never breaking eye-contact.

“You know, I’m still mad you kidnapped me and won’t let me have contact with anyone I used to know.” Phinks eyes became unreadable, his jaw tense, fingers flexing as if it was the only way to push his anger away. “I told you about my new job opportunity way back when because I wanted to see if you’d want to come, which now I know wouldn't have worked. But also to see if you’d ask me out and give me a reason to stay, I knew after you took me on that garden tour even though you were clearly uncomfortable, that I’d fallen for you. It’s weird after all this time I never told you that.” Seeing the tension that’d built within him start to evaporate, eased your churning stomach. He looks better, suddenly getting back color in his cheeks, chest inhaling a large breath.

You continue, “I think.. I think I had and continue to have a hard time because my heart knows I’ve always loved you, but my brain wants me to keep remembering you technically kidnapped me, and that’s a horrible thing for a partner to do. That even now you’re dangerous to an extent I may never understand since you’re a spider. That you could hurt me one day. I register the anger in your eyes on phone calls, I see how often you flex or crack your fingers to stay sane if I did something you didn’t agree with. There’s cameras in every room. You’d monitored my body for weeks to make sure I wasn't self harming or losing weight. Had to sit in on all my showers. I remember hearing Feitan quip at you that you’re a hot head. I saw Uvogin’s fiance’s fear towards the news.”

Tears prick at your lash line as you attempt to wipe them away, sending Phinks the slightest of smiles you could muster, “And I now know it’s because you're scared something will happen to me because you've seen horrible sides to our world. You are a piece of that horrible side, the Phantom Troupe… You and your friends are considered a giant threat. Anyone who’s capable of the things you all are, have to have something off in the head, I’m sorry to say it like that. So I understand you now more than ever. But you’re still my Phinks. You rub my back at nights, you put things on a high shelf so you can laugh at me as I try to get it only to swoop in. You watch those horrible holiday romance movies because I love them and you’ll never admit you do too.”

“What are you saying?” He asked hoarsely.

“I hope you don't want me to leave, I love you.” You say bashfully, pink dusting your cheeks.

Phinks never planned to let you leave. None of the outcomes in his mind consisted of it. But there you sat with a cute, happy face telling him you want to stay and be with him, thinking he was going to let you go if you asked. So Phinks lets out a sigh of relief knowing he doesn’t need to become the bad guy, he can let you think he’d have given you the autonomy to leave. Because you knew he loved you regardless of everything and you never considered other more darker options. You’re a softy, so innocent and naive, someone who cries at anything, and this further proves to Phinks you need him.

The last two years this very conversation weighed on him. Knowing the day you found out about the Troupe your loving relationship would come to an end, you’d hate him. And then when he’d have to inevitably chain you up or threaten to break your legs to keep you from going anywhere, you’d despise him and yourself. You’d be petrified of him.

But none of that was going to happen and Phinks is thanking whatever God is up there with his entire doomed soul.

“I never want you to leave.” Phinks was across the couch, pulling you into a bruising kiss. His warm lips meshing with your own in a desperate dance as if one would disappear. A whine from the back of your throat made his heart race, made him melt like lava, all consuming that he couldn't stand the emotion that warbled through him. Like he could burst with the emotion of a thousand suns yet it still wouldn’t be enough to describe what you did to him.

Before the kiss gets too intense to the point of no return as you feel your thighs rub together in want, you push at his shoulders. You stroke his cheek as you study his face memorizing each inch shaped from the gods themselves to you.

"I want you to tell me everything, okay. No lies, I want your real childhood, real everything that you changed to leave out the Phantom Troupe. And don’t hide the tattoo anymore."

"I can do that." He nodded fervently, squeezing your waist, “I love you with all I got, okay? Tell me you know that.”

“I do, I know.” You pull him in for a quick kiss, giggling as he attempts to deepen it, “Uh uh big guy. You have a lot of explaining to do before you get any of that.”

He groaned, pressing a wet kiss to your neck, “I don’t know where to start babe.”

“Well..” You think. “What do you… do? That’s not what I mean, so are you good with guns or something?”

“Ahh, I don’t think you understand Nen at all then if you’re askin’ that.”

“What’s Nen?” You cock your head, having zero idea what that three letter word meant. You hadn’t learned of it in school.

“Oh fuck me.” The mood he attempted to create to get your clothes off was ruined, but his genuine amusement makes him laugh, uncaring. He settled himself to get comfortable around your smaller frame, readying himself for a brutally open conversation with you.

And as you two sat on the floor, Phinks relaying his story and the Phantom Troupes, you were glad you chose to stay even as you let him know you weren't happy every time he explained a heist. Because loving someone was the most important, at least you hoped that was enough. Because your heart couldn't fathom losing the blonde man who filled you, cared for you, protected you. You weren't sure if he'd survive losing you, or maybe it was the other way around. But you knew as he explained, that it didn’t matter at the end of the day, you wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not with the type of man he truly was with his work, dread consumed you, but you locked it away in the back of your mind.

MONTHS LATER

This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

One hand was shoved over your mouth, the other held to the wall for dear life. Your heart was in your throat as you listened to the different sets of footsteps outside. They’re talking but it wasn’t loud enough to hear, as much as you strained to listen. God you hoped they’d leave soon, decide this place was abandoned and move to the next.

The day started out like any other, waking up besides Phinks, having to convince him to start the day by luring him into the shower.

He attempted to make your coffee while you made pancakes.

Then Chrollo called and the way his face dropped, you knew something bad had happened. The basis of newfound trust between you two was a fine line, probably would be for awhile. But for once you felt secure as he told you head on, he couldn’t tell you what was happening, because the stress he projected was more than usual.

“Babe, why don’t we go out? There’s a farmer’s market on the other side of town, can find cute shit or something.”

“Really? Let me find something nice to wear!”

Phinks held your hand as if he’d lose you in the crowd at any second. Even as you told him he needed to let up or else you wouldn’t have a hand for him to hold if he kept cutting off circulation. While the sudden outing was pleasant, you’d found a few fresh ingredients for cooking you had to have, Phinks was off. Knowing it had to do with his earlier phone call, you brushed it off.

While you hadn’t been to the market in quite some time, it’d never been this busy. Crowds of people pushed through to see the stall uncaring as they bumped shoulders. The sun beat down and without a cool breeze it was uncomfortably hot, you were itching for reprieve, something cold to drink perhaps.

Your eyes caught sight of an ice cream storefront past the main square, just far enough to where not many people gathered. Perfect. You tugged on Phinks arm, your fingers still locked with his. It takes him a second to notice as he’s too intent on watching the crowd. Eventually he cocks a brow your way, nodding as you motion to follow.

You (foolishly) assumed Phinks had you in his sights, had a hand on your back or something. You lived in a rose colored world with your boyfriend where you never needed to worry, so your hand slipping from him wasn’t of your concern, he’d have a handle on things.

Panic strikes you, you whirled around desperately trying to spot Phinks. But you’re too short stuck in a group and suddenly everything feels like it’s a skyscraper around you, closing in as the air feels too heavy to breathe in.

But then, “Babe.” You jump, a gasp leaving you as you ready yourself to shove someone away. But staring down at you with hands on your shoulders was Phinks, “Fucking hell, scared me.” Pulled hard against his chest, hearing his pounding heartbeat as his comforting scent washes over you- and you’re okay again.

“L-Lost you. Didn’t mean to.” You whimper as you stare at him, fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. His features soften due to your terrified state.

“I know, come on, let's get somewhere with less people.”

This time Phinks is more aware of you than ever before, not taking any chances. Hypervigilant on the tightness of your grip, any time it loosened slightly his tightened. And this was why you needed him, you, so uncaring of dangers walking around with your head in the clouds. It’s as you go to wriggle yourself free to weave a sharp right, he acts.

“You don’t fucking let go of my hand.” He hissed, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other wrapped around your neck, you whimper from how tight his hold is.

“S-Sorry, got distracted, saw something-”

“I don’t care, in public you know the damn rules.” As your bottom lip trembles, Phinks does his best to shove down his sudden raw temper, “Just- what if you get hurt? Or someone takes a liking to ya? Tell me if you wanna go somewhere all of a sudden, I can’t read your mind.” You nod, his gentler tone building back up your mood as he lets go of your frail neck. Your neck that he’d be able to snap faster than you could blink.

Ten minutes later and you were sitting happily at a table with ice cream, Phinks sitting beside you with an arm tucked across the back of the private booth. He watches you with a faint smile, still coming down from his heightened senses when he lost sight and feel of you. And how quick he’d lost control, especially over an innocent situation. He pushed back pieces of hair as they fell from your updo, letting his fingers graze the soft skin of your face down to your neck, then to the collarbone he desperately wanted to mark.

“So,” Phinks said, “Remember when I told you what actually happened to Uvogin’s fiance? How she’d been kidnapped by Hunters while sick?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, spooning strawberry soft-serve into your mouth.

“Guess uh- her name and picture got put on the Hunter database, as a missing person in danger so to speak.” You quirk an eyebrow as the look he gives you tells you not to say the obvious that well… Uvo did kidnap her. “Shal found your name with hers, but they only had an old pic of you, from when you were 14, I guess. This shit complicates things, there was talk of a group, lead by someone who worked with those obnoxious ass Hunters, saying they have possible locations on ya.”

As if on cue your fingers tremble, color drained from your cheeks, forcing you to place your ice cream down with a sudden drop. “Huh?”

“Shal wiped all the chats, the pictures and info. But right now, I don’t think it’s safe.”

“Phinks I don’t understand.” You can hardly hear the former bustle of the shop around you. A numbing high pitched tone starts up and your throat’s suddenly so, so dry.

“That’s what Chrollo called me about this morning.” He waved his hand as if motioning to the prior call. Veins peeking out from his shirt are tense, you realize quickly he’s trying to keep his mood together for your sake, “Wanted us to come out and do something nice before we gotta leave for a few weeks.”

Your appetite- gone. A sour taste wipes the sweet strawberry one you’d been enjoying. “I-I don’t want to leave. I-”

“We’ll be back. Uvo and some others gonna handle it, throw them for some loops. Probably..” He stopped, “Kill them.”

At that point you were certain you were going to throw up on the table then and there. As total honesty was a part of your lives since finding out Phinks was in the Troupe, you’d asked for a gentler version of any details regarding a job. Hearing him speak of taking lives in a nonchalant way, never sat right.

“Where do we have to go?”

“Meeting Shal outside the city, he’ll take us to Base. It ain’t bad, Uvo and the missus go there a lot, stayed there after we rescued her, maybe once before too. Primarily where I lived before you.”

“Okay, do we have time to get some stuff?” You mentally began to race through the things you’d need for an extended time away.

“See, we don’t, so wish I thought of that before we left.”

“I swear to-” Phinks’s poorly timed laughter cut you off, “Glad my soon to be suffering because I won’t have my favorite pajamas is funny.”

The rendezvous with Shalnark turned into a shitshow. That was how you found yourself hiding in a closet in an old apartment complex, the furthest away place you found cover as nen (what Phinks called it, you think at least) brought the area to destruction. You can still hear the storm outside, the thunder boomed shaking the walls, the patter of rain. It came out of nowhere, along with all the people and crashing bricks of the buildings.

People you don’t know were looking for you now. Even if it was a member of the Troupe you hadn’t met before, you were certain they’d say so, while the strange voices only yelled thinly veiled threats. You’re trying so hard to listen in, to gauge where people are, if they’re leaving or staying. Or even if a fakeout would be attempted. Staying put might be your best option, but you’re not fit for these situations! No experience, no self defense skills, just a girl with a racing pulse that might pass out any moment. You were one more crackling thunder away from just giving up.

You wanted Phinks. You needed him. Praying for him to find you and make everything better, whisk you away and pretend this didn’t happen. What would these Hunters do to you? Would they listen if you tried to explain? Phinks said it hadn’t mattered for Uvogin’s girlfriend when she tried, so you assume right then that it wouldn't for you. One plan out the window.

“Y/N!” You flinch each time your name is said by a voice you don’t know. Your stomach lurched. You pressed your hand against your lips harder.

“I checked all these rooms, we should check the other apartments in this complex before we move on.” Another voice said, and you know what he said was a lie. They hadn’t checked in here or else they’d have found you behind boxes in the small closet.

“Fuck this chase is getting annoying. I say we split before running into a Troupe member.”

“Yeah.” A new voice added in sounding further, “Those fuckers are scary strong, the infamous Zoldyck assassins don’t even fuck with them.”

“The big one took out Bates's entire team for his girl. I don’t want to end up like them. Dead, missing basically, no bodies ever found.” Retreating steps made you perk up.

“If Y/N were here she’d probably be running to us for help, she isn’t here.”

You don’t dare move a muscle, but it’s so hard. You’re weak, cramping, emotionally crumbling, and unable to think of a viable plan. Minutes pass by like hours, time they continue to search getting so close but not close enough. A creaking door in the distance then a slam. Grating noises that sound all around. Playing with your mind, making you doubt your senses. And it hurts. Blood pounding in your ears and you don’t know how your stress isn’t enough to give you away to trained Hunters.

An eerie silence. The hairs on the back of your neck standing talls, a chill down your spine.

So you wait.

And wait.

You count up to 60, then back down to 1. Then you do it again. And again. Your body screams at you to relax, you’ve balled up in the same spot for god knows how long now. Time was irrelevant to your plight when you couldn’t see outside your hiding spot. Had no way to tell if the men actually packed up and moved on, the rain was too loud to hear car engines starting to rev off. The silence was beginning to morph as your brain seemed to make noises that kept your heart racing like you couldn’t lose your wits, and you wanted to scream.

Phinks will find you- he had to. He’ll find you. You keep telling yourself that as nausea rises up your throat, you gag against your sweaty palm. Eyes squeezed shut as they moisten. Maybe this was the world punishing you for being selfish and choosing to stay with Phinks after finding out his real occupation six months ago. Karma’s way of saying you deserved to suffer, to understand even a fraction of what your boyfriend’s victims went through.

Your hand dropped from your mouth. You brace your palms against the floor, knees burning from how long they’d had to hold you up. Carefully, slow as could be you changed your position to sit back against the closet wall still behind a cardboard moving box. This is comfier at least, less awkward for your shaking limbs.

Your head lulls. No no no. You suck in a sharp breath. Blood pressure dropped. Adrenaline crashing. Black crept into the crevices of your vision, slowly invading as you try to stay awake, begging yourself to do so. But you can’t give yourself away, not even as you go limp falling to the ground on your side with a thump.

A man sat bound and gagged, blood seeping from his empty eye sockets, fingers bent in unnatural positions. Kneecaps lazily removed, the bones absentmindedly feet away. He was lax because he bled out an hour ago, a thick gash along where his intestines would be.

The next man who watched his coworkers torture, whimpers as he watched a short black haired man pick up a pair of pliers.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked in his soft, yet sinister voice. Feitan’s dark eyes struck terror into the Hunter, who started to flail against the ropes.

“D-Don’t know! No-None of us found her!” He begged, “You gotta believe me!”

“I do.” Feitan shrugged, “Tell me where others are.”

There’s conflict in the Hunter’s eyes, like he weighed his options.

“Won’t say.” He finally said, tone defeated, he practically physically deflates knowing he’d be dying in the abandoned warehouse whether he said locations or not.

Blood seeped into the cement floor, a single bulb illuminating the room as it crackled.

Feitan heard the approaching footsteps when they’d entered the building itself minutes ago. He waits, feeling a familiar aura.

Phinks takes the sharp turn into where Feitan set up camp, distress and unkempt written all over him. The normal cool and collected (until pissed off) spider with a ridiculous pharaoh hat, was struggling. His heartbeat hadn’t settled in hours and he’d chugged most of the coffee Paku showed up with two hours ago.

Their prisoner won’t answer questions. Not even as he screeches, fingernails ripped out one by one. Not as he convulsed from the pain, a disgusting snap of breaking bones, blood spurting on his face.

Phinks can only see red. He wants him dead. Dead. Dead. “Where the fuck is she?” He gripped the man’s cheeks, letting his fingers dig into his jaw, popping then the crack, gargled moans following. “Gone all quiet now, huh?” A maniacal grin pulls at his lips, his teeth brace and over, and over- again- and again- more- his fists pummel against flesh and organs. It’s when the prisoner is nothing more than a lump of mushed flesh does Feitan pull him off.

Feitan smirked, “Got it all out?”

His knuckles burn, but the pain is nothing compared to the excruciating terror that’d made its home inside him. All Phinks can imagine is you tied up being transported between hunters as they mindlessly care for you, while under the pretense of helping. They wouldn’t care for your tears or pleas to let you go. He’s imagining them doing to you what Bates did to Uvo’s girl. How when they rescued her she’d been drugged up for months, bruised, with poorly stitched up gashes, and health deteriorating she couldn’t stand to walk. Phinks saw first hand how Uvo never left her side for the week she’d been unconscious with IV’s sticking in her veins.

The thought of that happening to you makes his head hurt, sharp pulsating behind his forehead. He presses his fingers into his temple, prodding along his eyebrows for any sort of reprieve. Twisting anxiety, dense uncertainty gnawed at him.

“Need to stay calm.” Feitan said, “Almost hear your thoughts.”

Phinks lets out a weighty exhale, shooting his ‘friend’ a glare, “I don’t know if she’s okay. I’m- supposed to protect her. This is fuckin’ ridiculous, these fucking Hunters are imbeciles.” It was getting out of hand, now the second Troupe member to have a partner taken by the same group. To Phinks, this had to be a declaration of war. And as he peers at Feitan who seemed deep in thought, he can tell the torturer felt the same, who had someone of his own too, “Your girl can be next, Feitan.”

“I know. Stop speaking.” Feitan spat, fingers involuntarily twitching.

“We should go find Shal.”

The rain had stopped; was the first thing you noticed as you groggily pushed yourself up. The air inside the abandoned room was sweet with the aftertaste of a storm, yet it made your head spin. Gathering your bearings you stare at the closet door as if it mocked you, dared you to open it.

You weigh your chances here, assuming you’d fallen asleep for one hour or ten, no one found you. And who’d wait that long to lure you out with malicious intent?

Legs wobble as you stand, they feel filled with lead as you approach your exit. Hand shaking as it grabs the handle, the thudding of your mind almost painful. Twisting. Opening. The hinges didn’t creak and you’re now staring at an empty room. The same as when you entered. Shit. The window shows you it’s night now, not mid afternoon anymore. All the heavy dark clouds were gone leaving the dark sky clear and dazzling with stars.

Hugging your arms taut around yourself for warmth, you know what you need to do. You need to be strong and begin to make your way out, see if you can get to a phone or find someone willing to take you into the city. That was risky but you were desperate. And with the amount of nooks and crannies of the dilapidated buildings that once were a vibrant living compound, there was always going to be oversight. Maybe getting outside would help Phinks and the other members find you.

You're somehow at the bargaining stage of grief and you almost laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Trying to stay quiet as a mouse while imagining dozens of scenarios, when you probably needed to be on the lookout. With each hall you walk through, you strain your ears for signs of life. As your weight shifts on floorboards and steps, if they make a sound you're frozen as you wait. But nobody came each time. It’s safe.

The exit to the entire building is finally in sight. You begin a slow descent of the stairs, still doing your best to be diligent.

But it’s the sudden rush of voices, that has you screeching to halt practically holding your breath.

“Per GPS maps, these two complex buildings are all we have left.” That voice. You recognize its higher tone, like it held a cheery imposition even at the large task at hand.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Another familiar voice. Their feet crunched on the gravel outside.

“Nobu said no sign of the cars that peeled out earlier, not sure whether they decided being alive was better or if it's because they have Y/N.”

“Why can’t I just start screaming her name loud as possible? She’s gotta know it’s me.”

“Uvo she’s probably terrified and you’ll manage to burst her eardrums. You know your girl is safe at home while Phinks is losing it right now.”

Uvogin. Shalnark. Faking their voices would be too elaborate of a hoax for anyone.

“He on his way over?”

“Him and Feitan, yes. Others are tracking the rogue vehicles.”

Phinks was on his way. Your chest blossomed in joy, you could weep happy tears as your body felt a million times lighter. Relief coursed through your veins and you went back to going downstairs.

But what you hadn’t realized in all this time was your body struggled from the temperature drop. Your teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. The sundress you’d adorned did nothing to protect you when you laid unconscious in the closet. Your lips tinted purple. Your face flushed from the chill. The tips of your fingers numb. But all you felt was the anxiousness, the hiked pulse, and your fears rather than worry about your physical state.

Shalnark spots you first, your meek trembling form with reddened skin appearing through the doorway like a ghost. He’s on you as he strips his jacket to get it around your shoulders. He’s checking for injuries before you're scooped up into bulking arms of a giant who exuded heat. You can’t speak, only nodding as Shal throws questions your way. The surrounding area is blurry, you squint for any sign of Phinks. But you could barely see Uvo, who was the one carrying you as you looked up.

A commanding presence makes you subconsciously relax.

“Shal what- Y/N- Thank fuck,” Phinks is out of breath, filled with desperation as he raced to you, his heart plummeting when he saw you all small in Uvogin’s arms. Like your whole world is back on its proper axis, you’re trying to reach for him but you only muster up a whine in recognition.

Uvogin hands you to Phinks, who cradles you in his strong hold as they take off to the car sitting idle. His touch sets you aflame as you begin to tear up, babbling nonsense into the crook of his neck, now wet from your tears..

“I got you.” Phinks whispered in your ear as he studied your face whilst his hands felt every inch of you. Needed to feel every inch as reassurance. Your smile is loopy, your eyes so distant as you reach to stroke his cheek. “Safe now, okay?”

The sky moved by fast, but you’re not paying enough attention. Having to will your heavy eyelids to remain open, so you can continue to look at your boyfriend. Taking in his severe face that was littered with worry.

You’re tucked into Phinks’s body as he holds you so tight, murmuring sweet nothings as you try to engage. You try to appreciate his roaming hands as they stroke along your neck, squish your cheeks in comfort; and as a way to remind himself you’re okay, he has you. A piece of you isn’t even hearing his words, nor the conversations taking place amongst Troupe members in the car.

You couldn’t stop shivering even as heat blasts from the vents and as different articles of clothing had been offered up to cover you. Or as Phinks tries to rub your bare arms to generate heat.

“Babe you can sleep, s’okay.” Phinks said, and you realize his eyes are bloodshot. His heart still hammered against you and you physically feel the fear he had and now the relief that now swirled around him.

“Are you- okay?” You ask, concerned for him.

Your question clearly threw him off but he shakes his head, slightly amused you were thinking of him after everything you went through, “I’m good, I got you back. I don’t want to think about what could have happened, thought I was losing my mind trying to find you.”

“I ran, I didn’t know what to do.” You sniffled, shuddering as you remembered the chaos, “Ran up some stairs, found a closet and hid. I was so scared I thought I was going to die and eventually my body gave out. I woke up and it was night.”

His gaze softens, before he leans down to kiss your cool lips, lingering before moving to peck your forehead, “We’re heading to Base now and we’ll get you warmed up.”

You cling to the blonde as if you’d be swept away any second. In and out of sleep for the drive, uncertain of the day or time at this point. It’s with the glint of orange rays that you’re alert to sunrise as the car comes to a halt.

“I can walk.” You try to say to Phinks but he’s having none of it, sweeping you up bridal style before your feet even had a chance to touch the ground after the car door opened.

“Babe stop, no reason for you to exert yourself. You can rely on me.” His lips press to the top of your head, the sound of him inhaling your scent as a comfort makes you shiver.

You weren’t sure what to expect in a Base for the spiders, but a sprawling warehouse that just peaked above the surface level was not it. It has large, empty and tattered looking windows, run down and well- maybe that was to be expected for a group of criminals. Phinks carries you to a path and makes his way down a set of stairs that descend down to a single rusted door.

You’re not sure if you really understood a wink of Nen when Phinks explained it months ago, or when you’d ask him questions. You’re not sure if it's some form of magic as when you two enter, it’s like stepping into a portal. From the outside looking in it would be expected to see continued dilapidation; rotted furniture, mold, rodents, general disarray of buildings left for time to handle. Yet what you see as the entry door opens to a platform with a metal staircase going down, was a perfectly normal space. Decorative pillars and art (surely stolen) haphazardly on the walls, with rugs in peculiar places. A long table for 12 was the grand room centerpiece. And from Phinks’s arms you see multiple doorways that must branch off into other spaces of the hideout, for a second you forget this belonged to criminals as you wonder if he’d let you explore. But that reality goes out the window when Phinks sets you down in a chair and you catch sight of Feitan entering from outside. He’s covered in blood and you’re nauseous at the sight.

You look away, attempting to focus on the tiled floor, counting the squares you can see. Your legs are covered in goosebumps and as you feel along your arms, they are too.

“I’ll be right back.” Phinks pats your head and you want to cry out for him not to walk away from you. Leaving you as a fish out of water in a new place, an intimidating place where his friend who’s covered in blood watches you from the corner. Bookshelves line empty spaces, which most of the shelves are in disarray but present collections look ancient.

You think it’s been five, maybe seven minutes since Phinks left the room, but you’re becoming antsy. Anxiety claws at you as you want him near, want to touch him and see his face to know everything’s okay.

“Hey,” When you look up, the familiar face of Uvogin’s fiance greets you. She stands there looking frail, adorned in jeans and a sweater, but giving you a warm smile.

“Hey, how are you?” You stammer out, the sight of her making you more nervous than calm. She takes a seat across from you at the grand table.

She shook her head, “I should be asking you that. You okay? You’re not hurt are you?”

“I’m not physically, just… scared and now really cold.”

Her eyes went wide, “Oh would you like my cardigan?” But you stop her by holding up your hands before she can touch a button, “If you’re sure.”

You hadn’t seen her since the day you found out about Phinks being in the Phantom Troupe, even though she resided literally next door. You’d slowly learned that while Phinks allowed you the ability to go out, Uvogin did not allow it for her. At least he stopped, though you aren’t sure why. Health?

“I’m sure, thanks.” You want to say it’s because she looks like she’d need the extra body heat, that she shouldn’t look so malnourished.

An awkward silence falls over you and her, only Feitan’s faint shuffling breaking it up. You’re curious, sometimes too much for your own good and there’s suddenly a million questions at the tip of your tongue but you wonder if you should ask. Phinks gives you leeway because you accepted him full-heartedly, you wonder if she despises Uvogin’s work or something along those lines.

“Are you-” Her glower makes your mouth snap shut. And it’s when Feitan tells you two to behave with a cackle as he leaves, does she lean in.

“Why didn’t you run?”

“What?” You ask. Your stomach flutters with something unknown.

“This was the best chance you ever could have had- more than…” She sighs, “Since my health’s not getting any better, I feel more awake than I ever have before about- life..”

You’re confused. Her eyes look glazed over, you chalk her whimsical mood up to her illness, “I don’t fully understand… Sorry.”

“You know Feitan carved his name into a girl's ribcage? Keeps her locked up in his attic. And you know where she’ll probably be in a year? Sitting here with us acting like a good dutiful lover.”

“Stop.” Your mind races as your pulse begins to climb up. And up. Fingers go numb as a tingling spreads along your limbs, “That- I don’t have stockholm syndrome.”

She shrugged, “I might have it, might not. You can’t truly know either.”

“I loved him before he took me.”

“Does he let you have free reign of a phone?” You shake your head for ‘no,’ “What about, can you talk to old family or friends.” You don’t answer. “Cameras in every room? Constantly panicked if he can’t see or hear from you within seconds?”

“Would you… Want a new life away from Uvo?” Whether it was fear or anger that caused you to ask it, the pounding of your heart made you snap her.

“No. I’m content, I don’t know how much longer I have anyways. He’s in denial about it.” She seemed morose at the thought of her death, like she didn’t care, like her current life wasn’t worth fighting for. Just sitting there waving her hand in a simple gesture, “I guess I selfishly, while I’m alive, want to see one of them suffer like they’ve made others suffer. Like if Phinks lost you today.” You squirm at her words, “I know Uvo may not recover when I die, so guess it’ll be karma enough for his actions.”

“Don’t you love him though?”

“Does it matter? I had a tiny crush on him before he took me, the big strong stranger that tried to make me laugh when he tried my creations at the bakery.” She pauses and the quirk of her lips doesn’t slip past you as she recounts a good memory, “But, it doesn’t mean I wanted to be taken away or that it was okay. He killed someone in front of me then re-routed my life. I can look at you right now and say I’m irrevocably in love with Uvo because I am, at least my heart and body completely are. My brain always wants to be around him until it reminds me of who he is. That only started after he rescued me from my second kidnappers, same ones who tried to nab you. It isn’t logical to love someone who does all that yet, I do? Weird psychological stuff but… That’s all I want to say Y/N, don’t forget who these men really are. They’re no better than the Hunters with hero complexes trying to drag us to ‘safety.’ None of it is for our best interest. Because if it were, then both parties have left us the hell alone.”

“Just… Who’s the lesser evil?” You whisper.

“Precisely, and after what I went through with those Hunters, it appears the Phantom Troupe is the better choice, for me at least.”

You agree, cringing at the memories of the way the Hunters talked about you in the abandoned building while you hid. Nothing about them was kind or willing to lay their lives down to protect you. This was an ego boost for them, bragging rights to say they fooled the spiders. That taking you and her were like trophies to boast about.

Uvogin’s fiance suddenly stood up, her chair almost knocking completely back. She brushed her hands off along her jeans. Clearing her throat, she speaks to you one last time-

“Ah, sometimes I say such strange things when I don’t feel well, sorry about that.” She smiles like a flip switched before she heads towards an entryway, you guess it leads to wherever Uvogin is.

You nod, “Of course.” But your eyes exchange something far deeper, more meaningful and you know you’ll keep her words private. An understanding that left you feeling comforted in an odd way. And yet a part of who hates her for dragging you out of your rose colored world. But she was right. Even as a sour taste scratches the back of your throat to admit such a thing.

An unsettling feeling settles itself in your stomach, you think if you have to sit at the table any longer you’ll go mad. Like a ball of twine was slowly unraveling, you want out of the room where you partook in such a strange conversation. And the fact you’re still cold, though your teeth stopped chattering during the car ride.

Technically, Phinks never said to stay put so you aren’t doing anything wrong by trying to find him. Technically. He’d walked down the hall behind you so you figure you’d run into him eventually.

Your legs ache with each step, painful stabs against the bottom of your feet as you begin the trek. It felt like a maze the second you left the main room, the only light present from lamps every few feet flush with the ceiling. ‘Spooky,’ You think to yourself, hugging your arms close.

The first door you pass is shut firmly. No sense of what could be behind it. You linger for a few moments debating whether or not to knock, but the lack of light from underneath deterred you.

Taking a sharp turn, you practically collide face first into what felt like a wall, but when you looked up– Phinks.

“Babe, what’ya doing?” You don’t have time to argue as he’s picking you up, “You shouldn’t be walking around.”

“Wanted to find you.” You pout. Though as you cradle the side of his face, the earlier conversation slowly replays at the back of your mind.

Phinks noticed the slight drop in your face but chalked it up to the long day you’d had, “I was coming to get you.” Nuzzling your face into his collarbone you take a deep breath, letting his touch center you. Being against him in your state, getting a smidge of his body heat had you on fire for him, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as he started walking back the way he came.

Exhaustion nudges its way back unto you, a yawn eliciting to show as much. You want to keep track of the path he takes, a right and then a left- then… You aren’t sure. The halls look the same but he eventually nudges an ajar door open.

“Alright, here we are.”

The room was fairly big but rather plain. As Phinks sets you down on the bed, handing you a change of clothes, you realize- this was his room. Simple furniture scattered about but strewn magazines of things he was interested in forgotten on a coffee table. An alarm clock that matched the one at home that had a layer of dust on the nightstand. Some art, definitely random pieces he probably didn’t care to have.

“This is your room isn’t it?”

“Yep. Needed to clean up, dust coated fucking everything been months since I last stayed.”

“Why..?”

“If I’m ever beaten up after a job-” He explained, “I don’t want you to see that. But with you to go home to, there's no reason to be here. Wasn’t bad for the bachelor life.”

It’s nice to learn something new in that respect, to see something that’s been a piece of his life first hand. Soreness screams through you as Phinks helps you undress to slip on the heavy sweats and hoodie. A mound of blankets pulled over you next, you cuddle happily into the new warmth that spreads over you, almost as if you’d never been in that abandoned closet.

You wait for him as he changes, admiring the way his back muscles flexed, “You’re coming to bed, right?”

“What a dumb question, babe. Need to hold you after this fucking day.”

“I want you to stay by my side.”

His weight sinks into the bed, and he repositions so you can slot yourself against him. God he loved how small, weak you were compared to him. His fragile little girl he needed to treat like glass when all he wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress. Having to hold his urges back for your sake was the right thing to do though. He can’t scare you after the day you’ve had while all he wants to do is relish in your body because the adrenaline high he’s coming down from fucking hurts. So close to losing you. So close to understanding the anger and sadness they put others through when the troupe kills their loved ones. It’s a strange sensation really, to even think about empathizing, but after the day you two have had, he doesn’t care. Just wants to hold you in his chest as your breathing slows. Wants to squeeze the plush of your skin to remind himself you’re his. His. No one else's. Not the Hunters who think they’re the saviors of the Phantom Troupe’s women.

God he wished he could make all your thoughts of everything and everyone else but him go away.

“I love you.” Your tired voice, sleep about to drag you under, makes him melt inside.

“I love you too.” He says back, since he knows he loves you in his own fucked up way. A way you probably wouldn’t understand, would probably be scared of, “I’ll keep you warm tonight, you’re safe.” Right now he knows what you need to hear.

“I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

Good. It’s secured in Phinks’s mind that you never thought to run away from him having had the perfect chance to. Hours he couldn’t find you- you could have gotten back to town and jumped ship in that time. Yet you stayed in your little hiding place hoping for him to save you. You’re just so cute. And he’s lucky to have someone who relies on him so heavily. That made his chest burst with dark possessiveness over you. Not that there’s anyone left to take you from him. Every Hunter who’d been there was now dead, even the ones who left by car, with all that’s left to find the remaining stragglers involved with this effort. If more came out of the woodwork to take you after trying with Uvo’s girl, he’s sure there’ll be more eventually.

He soon drifts off thinking of you in tears, sobbing for him as he splits you apart on his cock. Sobbing that he’s ‘too big’, that you’re ‘too full’, and begging for him to stop- but gods he won’t stop not when you’re broken like that with big red eyes and wet skin from the pleasure turning to pain. And he won’t stop, never does, until you’ve gone dumb in the head drunk off his cock and filled with his come like you need it to breathe. And Phinks knows as his consciousness slips away, that his little daydream will become reality come morning time because he’s not a good man. Because a good man wouldn’t fuck his girl to break her poor little mind, to make her fall apart into tiny pieces so he could be the one to put her back together again. To get her nice and reliant. Especially not after a traumatic event. But you should know by now that he’s not good.

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