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thewrittingpan · 2 years ago

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Painting Lies pt 2

(Shalnark x reader, Phinks x reader, Feitain x reader)

Warning! This fic contains kidnapping and psychological horror and trauma! Please proceed with caution!

The full work can be found on my ao3 and I will be trying to keep my master list up to date as well.

Tumblr links: Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Wc: 5962

The first few days were spent in your bed. The tangled sheets were a steel cocoon, protective and warm, soft and comforting in a confusing time. The cat loved the cuddles, he curled up on your chest, headbutting your chin until you gave in and pet him. He meowed and whined with every move that you made, regardless if it kept him from suffocating you or if it was because you were in pain.

You didn't know what to do, or how to act. There was nothing that could be trusted in your mind. The food could have been drugged, there could be cameras in the room. They may have wanted to keep you in this room, to watch you like some zoo exhibit. If anything you wondered if you could block off the door, keep them out, even if for just a bit. Could you starve yourself here? Live in this room by yourself as long as possible? How long until you would cave?

“I love you,” you whispered over and over again, you said it because you felt like you needed to. You had nothing better to do, you just laid there with the cat, looking into his big round eyes as he mewled in response, and culled closer into your chest.

This little boy, your little boy loved you so much, and you loved him too. That was all you needed, all you could let yourself think about. You ignored as much as you could, when they would enter and drop off food you wouldn’t look, you wouldn’t say a thing unless it was to the cat. You tried to avoid them by staying in bed, by not touching much of the food.

It worked for a while, they never forced you to eat. Sometimes you could hear them argue about it: “force them to eat,” “let them tire themselves out,” “give more time.” It made you tired, made you confused. Why did it matter? Why did they care? Would they punish you for not eating? Will they ever trust you? Could you ever leave? Things were tiring, draining. Nothing ever left like it would be okay and you wanted to sleep and sleep until the problems solved themselves and you were home in bed waking up from a nightmare.

At some point, you started watching when they came in. They’d mostly leave you alone, Feitan would only make the briefest of eye contact, let his hand run across your cat's back, leaving food on your small bedside table. He didn’t really say anything to you, he only entered and left. They seemed to take turns, the one wearing pink came in after Feitan followed by the one who was always wearing that green athletic jacket. At least the pink one had the kindness to smile at you whenever he saw you looking at him.

He was the first one you could say that you warmed up to in the house, which on all accounts feels wrong since you met emo-boy first. He seemed genuinely sweet, smiling, and caring, he had been the one to give you with a heavily monitored gaming console. You didn’t know the specifics of the settings, but you had basically been put on a child lock mode for an adult. It was a bit overwhelming to have such a gift. You felt like it was a trap and a trick, to catch you in the act of escape, or seeking advice, but perhaps you were making it all up again, letting your mind fill in outcomes that weren't possible.

You had fallen in love with the console after a short while. For a few weeks maybe it sat on the desk hooked up to a small tv. It stared at you and watched you. You should have been entertaining yourself but something in you didn't want to. It didn’t feel like home, the strange looking unfamiliar room was like a position. It made you feel weak and dizzy, tired and drained of all emotion and energy. The console had been a nice gesture if anything, it made you slightly more comfortable with the idea of books and card games. You became less likely to sit and gaze only at the walls as dust slowly started to collect in the corners.

That man, the pink one, became one you could speak with, you learned him the same, and while you never wanted to speak with him, you longed desperately for contact that lasted longer than a few minutes. Feitan was too quiet to keep you good company, and you were sure you wouldn’t feel able to be near him for long.

You wanted to grab him still, to touch him the way you had before you had been brought to this fake home, and this horrendous cage. You were so tired, so angry, and sad. You know they all knew it, Feitan had always hidden his emotions but since you had nothing to lose other than your cat and your comfort you refused to humor the idea of attempting to make him upset or angry. You needed to stay calm, needed to keep control, and needed to make them trust you, to let you live in comfort even if you would be nothing more than a pet for the rest of your life. It wasn’t a good life or a good future, but you needed to survive, right? You questioned it a lot, your priorities, your reason for being here. This was too comfortable, too sweet, and warm. Perhaps a cold dark cage with a chain would have made you at least feel like a victim. Here you just felt like a guest who had been caught off guard by the weather.

Shalnark was more approachable than the other blonde. When you started getting out of bed he had happily squealed and pulled you to the bathroom. He pushed you down and had you sit atop the toilet and shuffled through the cabinets. He pulled out a few bottles of creams, surums, and tonics, along with packages of face masks and pimple patches.

“I wasn’t sure what you preferred, Fei had told me what you already had and what scents you had around the house so I guessed as best I could.” He arranged everything in a row, “There’s a preferred order when it comes to skin care, start with a simple wash and cleanse, then do the toners, serums and creams, then finish with a moisturizer.” He pointed to each bottle in order.

He handed you a small face wipe usually used to remove makeup, “Start with this just to get general dirt and sweat off starting with everything at once can be overwhelming.”

He handed you a bottle of cleanser. “Wash your face with this and brush your teeth. I'll be back in just a second!” He disappeared out the bathroom door but you didn’t hear the door to ‘your room’ open or close.

You knew what you had been told to do, but you looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt like your skin had sunk in, that the blood had been drained along with your energy, you wondered if your skin tone looked off. The wipe was cold against your cheek. You held it there for a moment, gazing into your eyes that you hardly recombined. If you dragged this across your skin, would you glow? Had you been laying in bed for so long, that sweat and grime from just being too scared to move had made you clearly dirty? Though logic said it was unlikely you were scared to be faced with the consequences of being kidnapped, to have fallen so far that you would lay there until you became nothing more than a gross mess.

Your fears of your own mental state only did so much against the fears for your physical safety. Even though you wanted to trust Shalnark you had learned the hard way not to trust one of them already. He would enter and smile at you with these eyes that reminded you of the true devotion a dog has for its owner, the way a cat closes its eyes and purrs when it feels loved and comfortable. It was genuine it had to be, but you could always see that when he wasn’t looking at you, and his mind had wandered off to another thing, usually before he left or just as he opened the door, he would have this heaviness to him that didn’t look like it belonged.

You rolled the cream in gentle circles on your face, it’s coolness made you ease up slightly. The stress of this new life was hard to get used to that even the smallest sign felt like liberation. Almost a meadow of flowers and cats, purring and meowing as they rubbed against your legs, rolling on the ground and covering themselves in dirt and you in fur. The cool water was a summer's mist of a sprinkler. It got you when you were least expecting running past a park in a residential area, kids playing in the lawn as they pushed each other around. You held onto that thought and pushed yourself forward, you could smell it, the garden of your childhood neighbor, the fresh cut grass. But as the rest of the foam was washed from your skin, and as you put the toothbrush down, you only found yourself crying.

Everything was too much, the emotions, the comfort. The way you couldn’t even bring yourself to do artwork of any kind, holy shit you were desperate to get your emotions out that you would have tried anything. Yet you were crying in the bathroom as Shalnark stood in the doorway with this pitiful expression and an outfit in his hands.

“Oh honey,” he whispered to you, as he turned to quickly lay the clothes down in your room. “It’s okay, come here.” He reached out slightly, his hand hovered against your cheek.

He was hardly touching you, but you could feel his warmth and he moved it slowly to your skin waiting for you to pull away. You wanted to turn away, deny the comfort and be left alone, but you felt too tired, too weak. You needed comfort even though you didn’t want it, when he touches your cheek you sobbed fully, gasping like before hanging your head in embarrassment but not pulling away he very gently wrapped his other arm around your waist moving just as slow as before.

You collapsed into him, “I’m sorry,” you muttered over and over apologizing for crying, apologizing for everything though you did nothing wrong.

“Take a breath and give yourself time, I’ll help you clean yourself up.”

His hands were firm but not heavy, they pressed down on your skin with a controlled kindness, a comfort that came with an unread fine print. You accepted the conditional warmth, this comfort that you needed as he pressed a wet rag to your eyes one at a time. When you looked up at him he was smiling softly, but deep down it felt like he had a fist around your neck, suffocating you, and there was no way to escape so you relaxed and went rag doll as if ignoring it would make the pain go away.

He had picked out something cute. A sweater with pinks and purples, socks with little hamsters on them, and loose-fitting shorts. That smile never stopped shining, he never stopped with his bright attitude as he pulled you down onto a stool to style your hair for you.

He was so gentle with your hair that you had nearly fallen asleep a dozen times. The bristles had scratched your scalp most pleasantly, you could picture the waves on the coast. The water scooping down and crashing against the sand, pulling back gently and dragging the shells and sand along with it. When you closed your eyes you almost felt it, his hands tugging on your hair, pulling tangles and knots from your hair. You could feel the mist as he sprayed in some product that you didn’t care to know the name of.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I know you're struggling but I’m glad I can pamper you as much as I want!” it’s hard for you to understand how but he spoke as if he was surrounded by little floating hearts and sparkles, “Phinks is such a dick sometimes, love that man to death, but he just does not understand why he should wash his face at all! Fei does facemasks with me sometimes, but he is shy so he tends to avoid it.” His fingers moved to rest on the curve of your neck, “Time for you to look!”

It was cute, simple even. You felt like you looked clean and put together. The bright colors made you look cheerful and cute. If you would have seen someone walking down the street you would have been jealous, though the clothes were more of a loose loungewear kind you felt put together as if you could go give a whole presentation on an exhibition and what went through your head. Though you’d need some more professional-looking shorts in that theory.

“I can’t wait for the others to see you at dinner! I hope you don’t mind the short notice but Fei cooked something before he and I head out for a few days!” he wrapped his arms around you as your eyes snapped to his in the mirror, “Aww, it’ll be okay! Phinks is intimidating I know, but he’s surprisingly soft!” He turned you around and held your cheeks, “If you ever get scared of him look down at the floor, through the corner of your eye, bite your lip, and hold your hands to your chest, bonus points for holding something soft, warm, or cute!” he laughed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Never do anything like that with Fei or me, do you understand that?” his eyes didn't have that same playful look that they usually do, his hands grew tighter on your cheeks.

“I understand!” You squeaked.

Then he was normal again smiling and holding you gently, “I’m glad Fei and I don’t like being lied to, I might let it slide but he won’t, unless he has game in mind.”

He didn’t leave after that, part of you hoped he would so you could lay in bed until dinner. But he had sat at your desk and was rearranging wires so they made less of a mess. He had a small stack of games by the tv. Something about watching him was entertaining. Shalnark had this deep appreciation for technology, you could see it in the way we worked. The wires were stroked with gentle hands, delitly, and they sunk into his hands with a dip similar to that of a dancer. A touch to an object has never looked so holy, you could have confused him for a priest cradling a sacred text to his chest, or a monk praying over the dead. There was a love to it, a true deep love, he was setting this up because he loved it, and when he looked at you when he finished, you realized he did it also because he wanted to share that same love.

So he placed a console in your hands and gently pushed you and the cat so he could sit next to you. He pressed himself close to you, hovering in your space but not touching you.

“Okay so this is your profile, it has your play time on different games here, and shows you which friends are online on this tab…” he was obnoxious about the details, “Phinks is a more sports and shooter game guy, I tend to play whatever sounds good but I have all the good recommendations, so come to me first, Fei has a console but rarely plays so I have no clue what he plays if you ask nicely and are 100% genuine he might consider it but he prefers to watch us play games so good luck!”

“What’s something relaxing? I want some goals to work towards but nothing that’s really required if that makes sense?” You felt really unsure of yourself when you explained what you wanted.

“Here start with these, these or some cute puzzle games, this is a farming one, and in this one you get to explore and meet spirits until you guide them into an afterlife sort of thing.”

“Okay.”

You got completely entranced by the first one you picked. Just like with anything figuring out how things worked and getting around was a struggle, but you quickly got down a rhythm. The first time you encountered a flying monster deep in the caves you nearly screamed. You panicked and swung at the creepy crawly that attacked as it circled your character. Yet you survived and were able to flee the caves before you died a painful death.

It was a wonderful thing for you, getting sucked out of this look-alike room, and into one that lets you explore and relax. You ran circles around the map, speeding your way through parts of the game. You started slowly with complete goals as you tried to grow your money making farms. If there was one thing you wanted it was another cat in game, though your cat was sweet and cuddly and was stretched across your lap as Shalnark scratched his fluffy head.

There was a peacefulness to it all, laying there without talking. The cat purring and mewling about every slight movement. You were struggling to stay awake after a while, you guess the emotional exhaustion was just too much, even though it was hardly even noon you wanted to lay down and sleep, your eyes were just so heavy. Every noise whether it be the birds outside the window or the ones from the screen you found yourself yawning more with every chirp and your grip slipping without realizing.

You felt childish for the way that part of you wanted to whine about sleeping, about how you still wanted to play but you just needed that nap. Shalnark didn’t mind, if anything he looked like he could use one too. He was easily lulled asleep by the cat as you collapsed into the bed. He laid down next to you, though the large cat had his butt in between you two. That was perfect for you and honestly you didn’t care what Shalnark thought. Not that it’s a surprise, but to you, this cat was a hundred times more important than him.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep,” he said, but you both knew it was too late to try to stay awake, “Fei and Phinks are gonna be annoyed if they have to wake us up.”

You were gone, falling asleep as you scratched the cat's head. Falling asleep next to a kidnapper was not a great idea. You obviously knew this, but it’s not like there was a better option! Don’t get it wrong it was really sweet of him to give you something to play and help teach you about it, but holy shit! This man kidnapped you! Well more correctly he aided your kidnapper? Assisted? Uhh, conspired? What the fuck are you supposed to do? Any normal person would get the police, break you out, hell, they’d just yell at their friend and run maybe but fucking this? This was just plain strange!

The emotional exhaustion, the whiplash that you swear was going to break your neck if not you, it was just way too much. Even your sleep was empty, there was no comfort in it, the warmth and soothing that was normal was gone. You may not have been cold but there was nothing to feel. The few dreams you did have mirrored reality too much, you hated falling asleep anymore, but this nap was so damn needed. You were about to break down at every minute, when your sweet cat tried too hard to comfort you, and nearly smothered you to death, you were sobbing into your sheets as you pushed him off. When he knocked something to the ground in an accident you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. It was horrible. You felt like you had no control, that you were just some storm that needed to dry itself out.

Laying down made you feel better, getting those knots pulled out of your hair felt better. You desperately wanted to take a bath or shower, to have the water burn you until you came out a lobster and the mirror was covered in condensation. Maybe when there were less people in the house you could get some peace and quiet that felt soothing, less like you were being circled around by predators. Maybe you could escape, though maybe it was too early for that yet.

You woke up when that sweet fluffy bastard stepped on your stomach. He was meowing loudly and you kinda looked over, but through the tiredness that had just choked you out you didn’t know what you were looking at or why it was important. Maybe there was something you were supposed to care about but when you heard a loud noise when you closed your eyes again you just reacted purely with anger and frustration. You tossed a pillow with a sob and laid down with a blanket over your head.

When someone touched your shoulder you kicked out. You can’t be sure if that was because you were angry at them, it would make sense, or if you had just been so tired that you hadn’t even thought about it but acted out of instinct, maybe you had just gotten scared. It didn’t matter, it also didn’t matter if you did hit someone, you never felt a collision, but maybe you did. You were pushed down, grabbed easily by the back of the neck and held in place. You were shaking, panicking. Every nerve was firing rappidly, everything burned, each movement made you gasp like a dried out fish. You riggled and squirmed reaching back and flailing your arms, grasping onto the had that had caught hold.

“Relax.”

A stabbing pain in your leg. It was quick and holy shit it hurt, but you went limp, collapsing into the sheets, your grip loosened, your breathing started slowing down. The sheets and blankets were untangled you sat up still shaking and confused, you stared down at your legs y and your eyes flickered over to the needle stabbed into your leg. Blood trickled down pooling and staining the baby blue sheets bright red.

Feitain said something you couldn’t fully understand as he pulled you off the bed and onto a chair. Shalnark ran to you apologizing and looking at your leg closely. You watched Feitain he was annoyed, but you didn’t know how much of it he was covering up. He stripped the bed and carried the armful of blood-stained fabric off. He vanished through the door and you stared after him. You wished to apologize, throw yourself on the floor and beg for your safety but if he determined you worthy of some punishment there would be no getting out of it.

“Okay I’m gonna pull it out now.” He looked up at you with his eyes shining as if nothing had happened, he gripped the end of it, it was shaped like a little bat you wondered what it was but it didn’t matter until it was out. “On three. One. Tw-“

You cried as it was yanked out, the suddenness made your knee shoot out and nearly hit him in the nose.

“Oh! Okay! That was a close one!” He laughed, “Sorry!” He grabbed your leg and went to work tending to it.

You looked at the wall. The cat had followed Feitain through the open door. You could hear some talking, but you couldn’t bring yourself to over hear it. Hell even when kidnapped you were to damn worryied about hulillating yourself, but now your life was in constant danger and we’re losing it. You kept wincing from the stinging and the pain, your eyes were burning and watering but you had almost completely calmed down.

“All done.” He said looking up at you as his hair fell down into his eye. “Pinks will help change the wrappings while we’re gone, and I’ll go try to keep you from getting a harsh punishment.” He kneeled infront of you with his hands holding yours. You’re so pretty.” He sighed kissing your cheek, “We’ll get you for dinner in a bit so just stay here and calm down for now.”

You were glad to. Your leg burned, and moving it sent sharp stabbing pains similar to the way if felt to get stabbed, but slightly less dull. Thankfully you could walk fine, though you had a clear limp and it hurt like a bitch. Part of that needle sticking out of your skin made you want to paint something. You dig around as quietly as you could this was the first time you truly searched through the drawers and closet. There were some of your old sketchbooks and notes stored in the closet each given a rough estimate to when it was made and organized by those dates. It was a little creepy when you saw some of your really old things that you hardly knew existed.

Thankfully there were also new sketchbooks, watercolor pads, mixed media, and drawing books. There were brushes tucked into a cute cup that was on the desk, lined up next to pencils, pens, and markers. The little cups had fruits on them lemons for the brushes, strawberries for the pencils, peaches for the pens, and little blueberries for the markers. You found some of more things as you looked but you just grabbed a pen and started sketching.

There was this very lose idea, the idea of using pins in a painting. The form could be hunched over and the pins could be inserted along each disk of cartilage along the spine. The skin would need to have a horrid color to it but you had to nail this sick idea down before you could consider starting it. Maybe there should be a very dark empty background, but something drew you to explore a maximalist one. It would be drowned in darkness so it wouldn’t pull away from the figure and it’s twisted and damaged spine, but bright enough that when you looked at it you could see all the things in the background. There was a problem with it though, you had no idea what to put in the background.

It’s always easy to fall into clique of pain and suffering, part of you wanted a vomit inducing twist to it, somethings seemed off, like it was trying too hard to be unpredictable, and you just struggled with trying to find a good middle ground. But this figure was perfect, broken and held together by these pins, it looked like every theoretical movement was one of suffering but what could be that important to keep it going? You needed to be in front of a canvas soon, you needed to try and get this to work.

“Come, dinner.”

Phinks. You didn’t expect it and dropped the pen as you turned around. He was hovering in the doorway, his arms crossed as he looked at you sort of blankly.

“Oh okay, give me a second?” It sounded like a question but you scrambled to pick up all the pens you had been using.

“Fine, just hurry before the food gets cold.”

You left the sketchbook on the desk but put the pens back. This piece might just haunt you for a few weeks.

You followed him down the hall to the living-room-kitchen-thing this floor plan had going on Feitian was sitting on the floor by the small table that had been cleaned and scrubbed down until it shone. He seemed to be dishing out food onto Shalnark’s plate. You sat down at the empty side beside Shalnark and Feitan and Phinks sat down across from you. Both Phinks and you already had a full plate. Both of them had been arranged with your specific tastes.

“Thank you!” Shalnark smiled, setting down a small handful of napkins.

“Thanks.” Phinks said, taking a sip of a can of beer.

“Thank you.” You echoed.

The air felt sort of sour. You were too scared of the idea of what happens after. Whatever had been in your stomach was turning over itself, bubbling up and making you feel queasy. You took a bite as the other did. Shalnark was all calm and pretty, you hoped that was a good sign. The food was like heaven. Sweet, savory, bitter in all the right places. You were floating in this dream of taste melting into it. You felt like you could have guessed that Feitain made it. He had these little tells. He had this tendency for his vegetables to be so finely cut that you hardly noticed they existed when mixed into things. They often had a sesame taste and he seemed fond of marinades. His more common meals were suspiciously well rounded for how little there was that made sense. He tended to make them all stand out on their own, each dish would taste great but they never felt like they mixed well as a whole, like you should be having a palate cleanser every time you eat something else.

Shal spoke up, “So,” he began drawing out the word slightly and catching everyone’s attention, “The elephant in the room?”

“There’s no elephant?” Feitain said.

“No it’s a phrase, I thought I explained that to you? No! That’s not important, I mean them.” He motioned over towards you. “Punishment, deal, remember?”

Phinks started with a sigh, “You’ll be continuously monitored by cameras as of now, however you will receive no punishment for today’s incident, don’t get comfortable, fuck up again and you’ll be sorry.”

He didn’t look at you when he was speaking. He just stabbed his food, and continued eating.

“I understand.”

Shalnark stretched out with a yawn, “You cook too well, Fei! It’s making me sleepy already.”

“You do dishes,” he reminded Shalnark.

“Fine, fine, but if we have leftovers I’ll be taking a little baggy with us as a snack.”

“The boss only sent you out to receive information right?” Phinks leaned back from the table, his beer hanging loosely in his hand.

Feitan nodded silently, while Shalnark explained more fully, “Yeah this guy is said to have information on that cursed painting thing, Fei knows the name. It’ll only take a day or two, so don’t be too lonely at home all by yourselves!”

“A simple ‘yes’ would have been more than enough.”

The food was so warm, it made you long for home. It sat in your chest similar to a heartbeat. You thought about home, a sweet feeling that rotted and stank. It was dying in your memories and steaming as maggots and worms chewed away at it. You hated it here, you longed for your smooth canvas, staining it with an orange underpainting. A deep cerulean blue would stand out against it, it would make the painting warm, you could try to paint your way home, or at least to a place of comfort.

Yet you piled up some of the dirty dishes making the walk towards the kitchen with Feitain on your heels. Shalnark and Phinks were starting to wash them, filling the sink as you set the dishes down where they asked. Feitain grabbed your arm loosely motioning for you to follow him. You did, you had nothing else to do. That rotting smell of home was heavy as you passed the look-alike room, it sneered and mocked you as you passed it, you swear it did, it had to! Otherwise why else would you feel so angry at it?

“Down here.” He opened a door, you had thought that it was just a bedroom or something but it led down into a dark unfinished basement.

He flicked on the light and led you down. He waited for you every time you moved too slowly. He would stand and turn towards you. Looking upwards as you stood embarrassingly frozen halfway down the stairs. The room had a bunch of paints and canvases. There were some baskets and bins filled with paints, some were labeled based on the kind of paint, and some cups were filled with brushes and even some paint markers. There was a cheap plastic fold up table underneath the shelves, there was a table top easel folded up on top of it. There were some lamps that were sitting in the corner, the kind that have movable bulbs, so you could have one directly focused on the piece while others just lit up the room.

The room was cold, which was to be expected, but there was a sink built into the basement next to the decently beat up washer and dryer. The thing that made you truly uncomfortable was the smell of something metallic and a fowl. That came from behind a curtain.

“You can paint here.”

“Um…” you debated asking, “what’s behind the curtain?” You pointed to the thing.

“My work.”

You stood for a moment, a long moment. You looked at him and his unreadable expression, looked at the fabric hanging down, back at him.

“Can I see it or…”

“Later.”

“Okay. Got it.”

Lame answer from him but like I mean there has to be something interesting behind there, he said later and not no! You’ll get to know eventually, he’ll if you end up painting down here enough you might find out by accident. Though he’s a kidnapper, maybe that’s not the greatest idea to know what’s behind the strange curtain, curiosity killed the cat and all that. You were one very curious cat though, and the satisfaction could very much be worth it…

Anyways, anyways you walked up to your room just as Shalnark finished mounting a camera in the corner of your room. Feitain had you bring up the freshly washed sheets. He smiled as if, you know, he wasn’t in the middle of the room trying to set up the damn camera. Yet he waved you towards the bathroom so you could take care of yourself and he continued to adjust the angle and make sure there was a decent quality to the video.

You’ll be fine if you just stay quiet and out of the way. Scrubbing your teeth clean of words and objections, washing down every opinion, you’d rinse out every thought from your head if you needed to. A steaming shower burned your legs until you felt nothing. There was no reason to fight, not yet when they already had a hundred reasons to have their eyes follow you like a phantom.

When you emerged from the bathroom, you saw that Shalnark had also fixed the sheets that your cat was draped over. His front paws hung over the edge of the bed and he looked up and meowed something small and sweet when he saw you. He welcomed you to bed with warmth and purrs, crawling onto you and pushing his claws delicately into your sides, only whining when you gasped in pain and moved him so he wasn’t trying to kill you.

“Good night dumbass.” You kissed his head and curled up with him.

It was nice even if that red dot stared at you and caused you to lose sleep.

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veilofaponia · 4 months ago

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Phantom Troupe: Love Languages

warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, kidnapped reader

Chrollo: Quality time

compared to his fellow Troupe members, Chrollo is much more experimental. he tries out every love language and settles on whichever wooes you easiest. he doesn’t mind whichever one that ends up being since it’ll serve as a tool to make you more affectionate towards him. he acknowledges the merits of constantly having a hand on you, even if it makes you scowl and push him away, because he’s confident you’ll crave his touch soon enough. expensive jewelry and perfume is bestowed on you to show off how well he can provide for you, but it becomes a bit of a challenge to accept a gift when you know it was acquired through either stealing or dirty money. if he had to choose his personal favorite, he’d go for simply being in your presence. there’s a feeling of satisfaction when you two are near, even if you aren’t interacting. this feeling increases tenfold when you indulge him with conversation, which is a common occurrence due to his tendency of never shutting up when you’re around. he’ll constantly ask questions designed to earn your attention and give lengthy answers in response. every sentence you form is soaked up by him; he wants to grasp your every belief and experience until he can understand you in your entirety.

Feitan: Gift giving

Feitan does view you in a positive light, albeit begrudgingly. when he first kidnaps you, he thinks instilling fear might do some good. it takes some time, but eventually he’ll get bored of your fearful reactions and want you to genuinely like him back. he’ll try to be slightly kinder towards you, like giving you an awkward pat on the head or making a joke about breaking your fingers when he forces his hand into yours (and giving a pointed stare when you don’t laugh). when you shrink away from him instead of beaming at the contact, he realizes that constantly threatening you didn’t exactly make you very fond of him. thus, he begins to try and directly show you how nice he’s being. most – if not all – of his gifts are belongings stolen from his victims. each item will have to meet Feitan’s rather high standards because, while it does embarrass him, he wants you to be impressed by the lengths he went for you. sometimes, he gets so giddy at the thought of your reaction that he forgets to wash the blood off the trinkets before giving them to you. he grumbles and sulks for the rest of the day at your terrified look in response instead of a lengthy expression of gratitude.

Machi: Acts of service

On one hand, Machi wants to make it obvious she’s not a threat and cares for you, but on the other, she struggles with being vulnerable in front of you. this conflict causes her great confusion on what to do. she’ll be watching you perform your daily tasks while she stares at you with this internal war raging in her mind. by her expression, you might think she’s glaring at you and upset because of something you did wrong, when in reality she just isn’t sure what to do with you. while she’s battling with her inner thoughts and staring you down, she’ll notice unhealthy habits of yours. surely, your sugar intake is higher than what’s healthy. if you continue like that, it’ll become a detriment to your health. much to your confusion, you’ll find your favorite snacks replaced by some knock-off low sugar version. and even though Machi may not be a world-class chef, she puts effort into your meals consisting of a healthy mix of carbs, protein and fiber (though she isn’t opposed to you cooking instead if you want to, the domesticity of the concept flustering her). it’s little actions like these that already have Machi expressing how much she cares for you, all while in her head she’s still undecided on how she should show she loves you.

Nobunaga: Words of affirmation

Nobunaga has a talent for managing to morph everything you say and do into an indirect way of you expressing your adoration for him. you can constantly repeat how you don’t love him back and never will, but he brushes it off as you being hormonal or confused due to the circumstances of the relationship. for him, it's a blessing since he won’t have to deal with rejection, but for you it's a curse since none of your feelings will be validated. on a daily basis, you have to deal with Nobunaga's ramblings while he suffocates you with affection. if it were anyone else, being told you’re perfect in every way and you were made to be with me might be romantic, but with Nobunaga it just feels gross and icky. he likes telling you stories about his observations back when he was stalking you, always mixing in a you looked so good in that outfit or something of the sort like it’ll do any good at making you like him. you assume he must think he’s being romantic by recalling the perfume you were wearing that day and complimenting it, when in reality it just makes your stomach churn. you can only sigh when he starts going on another spiel about how destined you two are, your lack of physical resistance only further proving to him you don’t hate him nearly as as much as you say you do.

Pakunoda: Quality time

Pakunoda believes that spending time together is the best way for people to grow fond of each other. she can appreciate the silent side by side type, but her favorite is when you two are actively engaging with one another. she always has ideas for activities you two could do together and almost always agrees to any of your own. due to her “job”, she has more than enough money to indulge you in anything you can come up with. she’ll take you to all types of cute cafés and listen intently while you ramble about whatever’s currently on your mind, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips. even before meeting you, Pakunoda already had an extensive beauty care routine, one she insists you participate in too. she loves the intimacy of assisting each other with it, holding your hand in hers while she files your nails, or having her face close to yours while she does your make-up, the brush stroking your skin. while she does genuinely enjoy the time she spends for you, it also serves a more nefarious purpose. she hopes that because of how often you two are socializing, you’ll ignore the less appealing parts of the relationship so your heart can grow as fond of her as hers is of you.

Phinks: Physical touch

Phinks loves the feeling of skin to skin contact with you, but he’s not so delusional as to think you’ll immediately start leaning into his touch. he knows you’re unhappy at the current situation (he is a little, too, much rather having a normal relationship with you, but he saw this as the only viable option, even if it’s undesirable). he wants to live out the fantasies in his head so badly, but the lucid part of him knows it’ll only have you hating him more and ruin your relationship even further. during the early stages, he completely listens to this rational part of himself and doesn’t act on the scenarios in his head due to not wanting to scare you off. it’s clear why he kidnapped you considering he’s always getting flustered in your vicinity and trying so hard to provide for and impress you. you might raise an eyebrow at his avoidance of touching you, but you’ll internally be thankful. if Phinks decides you’ve calmed down enough at the whole situation, he’ll slowly begin to get more handsy. he begins by simply having one of his hands on a body part that couldn’t be perceived as sexual, gradually increasing how long he lingers and where it’s placed. he tries to be subtle, but his hand is shaking the entire time and if you catch him in the act he’ll immediately pull away and refuse to make eye contact while his cheeks are dusted pink, so he’s not very smooth with it. if you reject his touches, he’ll back off for some time only to continue his previous progress later, hoping you’ll have forgotten the last time. in his head, both of you are happy this way: he still gets to have contact with you while you have your boundaries respected. in reality, he’s the only happy one.

Shalnark: Physical touch

can’t keep his hands to himself and sees no reason to. in Shalnarks mind, physical contact is an important part of a romantic relationship, and according to him, well, you two are pretty much dating, one-sided as it may be. part of the reason why he’ll constantly be touching you is because he does care for you in his own messed up way. to him, physical proximity just so happens to come as the most natural way of expressing it. whether it be forcing you into a kiss or absentmindedly groping at your flesh, it always manages to make him feel so ecstatic that he can finally shed the mask of normalcy he had to wear prior to taking you. the other half of the reason is because it always has you giving all of your attention to him. you can ignore his incessant whines at your lack of focus towards him and maybe even stay strong when he starts to revoke certain privileges, but you can only take so much roaming of his hands before you get uncomfortable and snap. prying his hands off and glaring at him will just be met with a boyish smile, one that oozes I win. because to Shalnark, attention is attention when you’re involved, regardless of if it’s negative or positive.

Shizuku: Physical touch

you might be surprised at how touchy (and also selfish) Shizuku can be. you don’t know what you were supposed to expect when she took you away from your regular life for her own desires, but considering her personality, it wasn’t that she would constantly force you into intimacy. you can sputter and try to lecture her on decency as much as you see fit, but it’ll likely go in one ear and out the other; she just doesn’t really care. part of the reason she kidnapped you was for pure convenience. you’re here now anyway, your personal space doesn’t matter much – it's more about what she wants, and if you happen to also profit from it, that’s great, but it’s not exactly her priority. sharing a bed with her will just have her pulling your body flush against hers. you can try to claw her off, but her strength far surpasses yours and it won’t be long before she’s softly snoring near your ear. she likes constantly holding your hand, not letting go even when you want to get up or your hand starts feeling clammy in hers. sure, you might be a little unhappy at how she keeps commanding you to touch her, or the way she’ll embrace you without asking or giving you notice, but you comply nonetheless, so does it really matter?

#♥︎my works #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #feitan x reader #yandere feitan x reader #machi x reader #yandere machi x reader #nobunaga x reader #yandere nobunaga x reader #pakunoda x reader #yandere pakunoda x reader #phinks x reader #yandere phinks x reader #shalnark x reader #yandere shalnark x reader #shizuku x reader #yandere shizuku x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader

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citrus-writing · 2 months ago

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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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0asisbliss · 2 months ago

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Warnings: Thoughts of cannibalism, oral mention, Phantom feats on a person, and other dark shit.

A/N: If you are bothered by this type of stuff don’t fucking read it. Sorry for any spelling errors! I hope you guys like it. :(

•Vampire!Phantom troupe that is very knowing that your the only human in the troupe.

•Vampire!Phantom troupe that follows their little member everywhere even when they aren’t out of missions.

•Vampire!Chrollo that tells all of the troupe that you’re off limits, and that no one should ever try to prey on you.

•If there was never a rule on you the troupe would’ve went DOWN on you.

Vampire!Feitan that wants to taste you so bad. He knows that you must be delicious. He would never kiyou. No, he thinks your far to precious for that.

You can tell when Vampire!Nobunaga isn’t getting enough blood. He’s sloppy and his words are sluggish, and his fangs are dull meaning he hasn’t fed in a while.

Vampire!Phantom troupe that feasts on human meat while you are around. Though you are disgusted you can help but think that Shalnark looks adorable biting down on a vein and getting blood all over his face. (He’s such a messy eater. :D)

Vampire!Feitan will sickly smile at you and he will then offer you a piece of raw human meat. Of course you will always kindly reject. Though the way they are eating it makes you wonder how it good it must taste.

Vampire!Uvogin that always gets a little too close to your neck, and is a little too clingy. When you successfully kill a worthy opponent he congratulates you with a bear hug and his mouth only an inch away from your jugular vein.

Vampire!Shalnark that knows he has a little effect on you and uses that to his will.

The more you see them eat human meat the more you wonder what your species taste like. Though you know it’s disgusting you still form the thoughts in your mind.

They WILL eat a human alive right in front of you. They think eventually you’ll get used to it.

Even though Chrollo implemented a rule that your off limits he can help, but want to taste you himself. Fuck you’re irresistible.

Don’t be surprised if you are woman, and you’re on your menstrual and someone asks to eat you out in the sweetest way. You just smell so good. Shalnark

If you do end up dating one of the Vampire!Phantom Troupe members. They will end up biting you. No matter what, and the rule Chrollo put in place doesn’t matter anymore because you’re basically theirs now.

Soon their thirst for you will turn into outright obsession and you’ll have no choice but to feast and drink blood with them, and hopefully you’ll be just like them. Always and forever their darling.

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year ago

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Hello🌹I hope you write this time for the phantom troupe + and the beautiful lady hwr

https://ddarker-dreams.tumblr.com/post/720956454749749248/do-you-have-any-hcs-of-what-the-yan-genshin-boys

I really enjoyed reading the post❤️

wahh thank you thank you 💖 i'll go ahead and write the phantom troupe's version in the same format, on a spectrum from best to worst.

best

pakunoda's fondness for you is plainly evident when your period rolls around. while she can be stern when the situation calls for it, she strikes a 'healthy' balance between earning your fear and adoration. she has a no-nonsense policy but her expectations aren't the worst, you get the sense she means it when she says she'd prefer to be sweet on you. as such, you both have this mutual understanding that lets you go out and about more than most darlings. you're thoroughly pampered through the worst of your period. she takes you to brunch, a private room for mani-pedis, to your favorite café, then back home where you both eat takeout in silk robes.

machi would wait until you take the initiative to ask for certain things (besides the obvious) so as not to overwhelm you. there's that, and she gets flustered at the thought of doting on you so obviously. will give a nod when you request certain snacks or whatever but gives no signifier she'll actually follow through. you just open the cupboard and see everything you asked for there. the few things you do around the house to retain a semblance of normalcy are taken over by her so you can take it easy. considering her cold demeanor, you might think she'd expect to you tough it out, but that isn't the case. she thinks the difference in your pain tolerance is kinda cute and won't belittle you for taking medication.

poor phinks goes from treating you like a porcelain doll to acting like you'll literally flatline if exposed to the mildest stressors, his overprotectiveness ramps up exponentially. he absolutely abhors seeing you in pain and feels so useless if your cramps have knocked you down for the count. this would be your most opportune time to attempt some manipulation if you feel up to it. exaggerating the symptoms, getting him to go on more errands than he has to.... he comes terribly close to snapping a pharmacist's neck for insisting the medication you asked for doesn't exist. you can be a little mischievous as a treat. however, he will catch on eventually if you push your luck too much. proceed wisely.

HWR reader/anastasia is one of those types who knows your period is coming up before you do. she doesn't trust those apps and calculates it herself for better accuracy. she's an absolute stickler for your health, reminding you how much water you need to drink before the day ends, 'gently' insisting when you should go to bed/wake up, and ensuring your nutritious needs are met. the woman's crazy. if you wryly comment she should become a doctor, the joke will go over her head, and she'll say that if that's what you want, she can certainly get her M.D. will actually do so if you don't tell her you were kidding. there are medical textbooks on the countertop the next day. the good news is that you're physically the healthiest you've ever been... mentally, though, is anyone's guess.

chrollo isn't awful in the material sense — you have everything you need and he won't make you beg for it or anything. (he has considered the idea, only to decide against it). it's more so that he keeps testing you. or maybe he's operating at his usual annoying levels, but with your hormones jumping ship, your patience is at suboptimal levels. witnessing him enter the room is almost enough for you to see red. if he senses the growing irritation on your part, he makes no mention of it. chrollo thinks you're absolutely precious, sitting over there in your comfy pajamas and stabbing the tasty meal he got you with a fork, wanting to complain but having no material to do so with. there's a chance he'll pinch your cheeks when your knife's out of reach.

feitan is, unsurprisingly, weird. he doesn't track your period but somehow always knows the second it starts. he's... a bit more delicate with you, in his own way. he'll try not to keep you up with the shrieks of victims since you need proper sleep, and stocks the fridge with some fresh produce instead of just premade meals. if anything gets on your sheets, he'll tell you he's good at cleaning bloodstains. in his mind, he's making a joke to lighten the mood, but from your perspective, it's rather unnerving. as knowledgeable as he is about the human body, he never attended a health class, so his knowledge of menstruation is mostly secondhand. he follows you around more than usual because he thinks the blood loss might make you pass out, since that's how it normally works. please don't correct him on this because he hates feeling embarrassed.

shalnark somehow becomes infinitely worse in this time when you're not at your best. which says a lot, because he's already grating to begin with. you didn't realize there was another layer you hadn't been exposed to yet. he's this pathogen that continues mutating whenever you think you've built up a resistance. he'll loudly complain that you're being ungrateful if you wordlessly grab the hygiene products from him, instead of acting like he braved hades as orpheus did to rescue eurydice. his position remains unmoved even if you dryly remind him he literally only walked three minutes to a convenience store. he's a bit disappointed you aren't more cuddly and needy, but makes up for it by entertaining himself with your volatile reactions.

worst

#the ranking probably isn't surprising but i tried to be somewhat distinct with my reasoning GJNER #pakunoda x reader #machi x reader #phinks x reader #shalnark x reader #feitan x reader #chrollo x reader #yandere pakunoda x reader #yandere machi x reader #yandere phinks x reader #yandere feitan x reader #yandere shalnark x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #phantom troupe x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #answered #Anonymous

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rotten-pomegranates-fics · 7 months ago

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Good morning 🌞, since requests are open, can I please get head cannon ask for how the adult trio with feitan, shalnark and phinks would react if reader successfully escaped them for years. Please I want reader to win just once 😭🙏🏾

Yes you can 💪🏻

I wasn’t sure if they were supposed to catch you in the end but I made like that

Warnings: mentions of torture, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of rape

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Feitan

Feitans gonna be pissed and offended that you have so little respect for him you escaped and when he finds you it’s hell

you should have killed yourself when you got away because the things he’s gonna do to you and Any friends you made along the way will make death seem like the better option by a lot

You don’t get any privileges your always chained up and you only get enough food and water to survive

He was being nice before, holding himself back, but not anymore now he does anything and everything he wants

Shalnark

He’s gonna be sad he knows he wasn’t the best but was he that bad?

He’s gonna track you down eventually, probably one of the quickest to find you, I’m talking three years or so

When he finds you he just mocks you, like you really thought he wouldn’t find you how cute

He’s gonna stick you with antenna a lot more often to make you do stuff you would never willingly do and he’s gonna make sure you remember every bit of it

Phinks

He’s heartbroken, you didn’t love him? Sure he kidnapped you but he was so nice, he got you gifts, fed you, never forced you to do anything and he let you do whatever you wanted in the fairly big house (he’s a but Delusional)

He’s a close second to shalnark when it comes to finding you in sense of time give or take about three and a half years

When he does find you he’s not gonna be as nice as he was before, your not gonna get sweet little gifts or the privilege to go around the house freely and he’s not gonna brush off your attitude anymore, from now on your getting locked away when you give him any sass

Chrollo

even though he tried his hardest to prevent it He knew it would happen eventually, he let his guard slip gave you to much freedom

It’s gonna take him about five years to find you because he has to focus on other stuff such as the troupe

When he gets you back your never gonna see the light of day again, your locked I and chained In his basement from now on and while it’s a nice basement with carpeted floors, a nice bathroom and a big bed with lots of fluffy blankets that he often joins you in your only there for his pleasure now

He regularly pins you down and forces you to do stuff that he didn’t make you do before whispering how it Could be different the whole time

Illumi

Illumi is savage, has every person in the zoldyck manor out looking for you and that intensity doesn’t go down if anything it gets worse the longer it takes to find you

It’ll take him about four years to find you and when he does your in for it

First he’s gonna beat you black and blue, he’s gonna break both you legs in the process and that’s the only thing you’ll be allowed to see a doctor about

He’s gonna try and get you pregnant as soon as he can and if you where kicking and screaming before he would have stopped but not anymore now your getting tied to the bed frame and having a gag in your mouth

Hisoka

He’s the calmest out of all of them, he knew it would happen, he’s not happy about it but he’s not a total mess like some of these guys

It’s not his top priority to find you but it is up there, so it’s gonna take him about seven years to find you

When he finds you your getting the beating of a life time, I’m talking broken ribs, and kicked out teeth, he will pay machi to come fix you up but he might do it again if you annoy him

He didn’t hit you before but he does now, oh you dropped a glass worth ten bucks? Your getting smacked up side the head

And lastly from now on when you sleep it’s on the cold ground with a chain leash attached to his bed frame around your neck no more comfortable pillows

#phinks x reader #shalnark x reader #Feitan x reader #yandere phinks x reader #yandere feitan x reader #yandere shalnark x reader #phinks headcannons #shalnark headcannons #feitan headcanons

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rotten-pomegranate · 24 days ago

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Day twenty nine : car fucking with phinks

Tags: @aliceattheart @my-eyelash-flew-off

Warnings: manipulation, unhealthy relationships, blowjob, smut

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“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to”

“Yeah well you did”

All this over simply talking to another man at the club you went to with phinks

“How can I make it up to you, show you how sorry I am” you already knew his demands would be sex of some kind

He glanced at you and then look back to the road “hmm, gimme a blow job”

Just like you thought, you sigh “ok, as soon as we get home I’ll give you a blow job”

“Not when we get back, now” you look at him and he looks at you then back at the road again “well? I’d get to it if I was you”

“Fine” you reach over to undo the belt on his pants but you don’t take him out yet, you know what he likes

You start rubing his soft dick through his pants until it stiffens up enough for you to pull him out of his pants

you go down, taking his semi soft cock in your mouth and swirling your tongue around “ahh fuck baby that good”

He’s fully hard now and you keep going up and down until his hand goes to the back of your head to hold you down

“Shit that’s to good babe” jr pushes you down a bit further

“Shit ima pull over”

Your still being held down when he says that, your about to loose your breath until he lets go to park on the side of the road

“Ahh fuck, ride me” you can’t deny how wet you are

Unbuckling your seat belt and climbing o top of him is easy, getting your tights off is a difficult task he doesn’t have time for

Proven by the way he reaches under you to rip a hole through the tights and simply moves your underwear aside

“Ok, get to it if you want me to forgive you” no arguments for you

His dick is already in the perfect place to just slip in

“Ahh, phinks oh my god” his hands go around you waist to start moving you up and down on him

“That’s it, up and down” every time he goes in he hits some part of you that lets you know you’ll be sore tomorrow and probably by the time you get home

“Fuck, lemme see your tits”

He takes of your dress while you grip his shoulders for support to keep riding him

When they come out he starts sucking and biting them like it’s his next meal

He pulls back, “god, these things are my favourite” he sucks particularly hard on one and you only ride him faster

You could feel your orgasm building up so you can only assume he’s getting there to

Confirmed a second later when you feel him twitch inside you a couple times

“God damn, cum with my baby” oh god you’ll definitely be flirting with many men in the future if this is the punishment, as if it can be called that

You both get there at the same time, his hands grip your waist tighter and you fall into his neck when he spills inside you and you clench around him

You panting when he speaks up “Jesus Christ, as soon as we get back ima take you properly”

You clime back over and he hands you his tuxedo jacket to cover up in while he organizes himself to drive again

What a promise to look forward to

#hxh #hunter x hunter #kinktober #phinks with a cat #phinks x reader hunter x hunter #phinks x reader with wings #phinks x reader getting high #phinks x reader hxh #yandere phinks #phinks x reader #oh well #phantom troupe x reader #phinks hxh #phinks #phinks x reader smut #phinks smut #yandere phinks x reader

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shalscumbunny · 1 month ago

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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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thewrittingpan · 2 years ago

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Painting Lies 3

Phinks x reader, Fetain x reader, Shalnark x reader

Tigger and content warnings include but are not limited to: blood, gore, violence, kidnapping, abuse, mental health issues, trauma

Wc: 6501

Tumblr links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Ao3: Here

You think you remember the two blonds being there, but you also remember your legs being twice their usual size. Honestly you just stared at the ceiling for a bit wondering what the hell was going on in your head. For all you know you did get into a fight with a giant blanket yesterday but also you felt like you had somehow completed an entire treasure collection in that game you played. Everything in the dream was too close to reality for your liking.

“Hey Phinks?” You looked out into the hall to see if he was up.

“What?” The door across the hall from you opened.

“Weird question, did we have a staring contest during dinner or did I dream that?”

“That kind of happened.” he went to close the door.

“Okay, did you play video games yesterday with me watching?”

He looked at you terribly confused, “no?”

“Did we set up the table?”

“No, shalnark did.”

“Did I go to the basement? Does the basement have a whole art studio too? Because I dreamed there was like some art supply store or something in it and I feel like I'm going insane.”

“Yes to both.”

“Okay okay, now the part that ia really fucking with me is that i swear i woke up in the middle of the night-”

“You did.”

“-and you and the other guys were there-”

“Correct.”

“Then I got kissed goodnight by the three of you? And like some drink that you see moms in movies make for kids after a nightmare?”

He stood looking at you, you had no idea what he was thinking, honestly he looked as confused as you were.

“That didn’t happen, those two just wanted to see you before leaving.”

“Weird.” You mumbled to yourself. “It all felt like stuff that happened or could have.”

Everyone had dreams that left them confused when they woke up, or well you think everyone does. Waking up from them can vary, like with every other kind of sleep. When it came to “what the fuck happened who am I” level of confusion dreams waking up in anyway that left you dazed was not a good thing. What you personally think is worse is when you don’t feel like you have been asleep, or when you think you haven't had a dream.

Your thoughts fizzled out until you could have been a cartoon character with smoke coming out of their head. Confusion sticks, the whole day would probably feel off, and hell you might just fall back asleep with how just trying to think through it all was driving you mad.

“Are you going to spend time around the house or in your room?” Phinks was leaning against the door frame.

“Oh-“ you sifted through your ideas to keep yourself entertained.

There were the new games you’ve been given, but the clearly visible camera in your room had been creeping you out. You had some books but part of you couldn’t stand the idea of reading at the moment, something in your bones felt like they couldn’t find a comfortable way to sit to read. Maybe you could draw- there was that sketch you wanted to paint.

“I might go paint something?” You asked him.

It felt like you were allowed to go paint down there whenever, or that was the ideal goal they had with showing you it. Though there was something about this house, even with Shalnarks advice of Phinks being surprisingly soft, you felt like you were standing on an inch of ice and it was already waiting to break.

He nodded, “Not a bad idea, just don’t go past the curtain, Fetain doesn’t like anyone touching his things. I’ll make something simple to eat, I’m not much of a cook so you’ll have to put up with it or make your own food.” He walked past you towards the kitchen, “I’ll stay down there to make sure you don’t go poking around in things you don’t want to see.”

Yeah totally not threatening or creepy in the slightest. Hell part of you felt like a horror movie character right now, that vague warning only made you want to see what was down there. As you gathered your sketches your mind ran wild. The stairs in this unfinished basement were creaky wood. You looked at your feet as you descended, the wood was nice and sanded, with no nails that you could notice. Yet your mind drew with jagged lines, poorly put together stairs covered in splinters. That would be too empty, not enough visual interest but something could be drawn from those mental images of stairs. Maybe if something was spilling down the stairs it would be interesting, something twisted hidden in the shadows or beneath the stars themselves, something hard to notice but once you do it’s shocking.

You pulled out a pre-stretched canvas. For a while your hands hovered over two, each size would have its benefits, the smaller ones could make the figure have a “weaker” tone. Though the larger would allow the grotesque details you were longing for. Yet you could alter your concept slightly and “zoom in” on a smaller canvas, get up close and personal with the spine. You propped them both up so you could more easily compare them while sorting through your sketches. You tore them from the sketch book with a strange chaotic need. They were spread out across the cold concrete floor. Scattered and overlapped so they could all be seen without taking up much space. It was a kaleidoscope of paper and ink, and you were the crazed lunatic who had created it.

“You’ll have to pick those up when you finish painting.” Phinks stepped down the stairs holding a large plate full of scrambled eggs and waffles. “Or do you think you’ll need to have them spread out while working?”

“Do you have tape?” You asked, “Something stronger than a basic office tape, I could hang them on the wall?”

“Eat some, I’ll find some.”

The food was weirdly over and under done. The waffles had parts that were slightly more runny than they should be but the eggs were concerning. Parts were crispy and almost burnt, while the rest was fluffy, almost as if he had gotten distracted and almost made a bad omelette.

“Duck tape and packing tape.” He placed one roll of each on the table beside you.

“Oh, thanks, that’ll work fine.”

He was quiet, but it wasn't the same way Fetain is. Fetains silence was a threat, one you had grown used to. He had this weight to him that was impossible to ignore when alone, though he easily blended in and was easy to ignore in a group. Phinks was almost the opposite. You never noticed him when it was just him, though that didn’t mean you trusted him in the slightest. There was a comfort to him, familiar almost, half memories of moments with an old friend or a split second where you almost felt like you were sitting in the room with a long forgotten family member. Warmth tried to spread through you, you desperately wanted to trust him when you felt the familiarity, but how could you when you knew nothing about him.

You taped away. Deformed figures, haphazard diagrams and sketches of anatomy from memory. While each sketch held some semblance of a thought, a firework of an idea, sometimes you found that the best ideas grew when you worked without a clear thought. Molding fog and light created forms and shapes that you may overlook, sometimes you could compare them to an instinct, or a deep need to connect with something you had yet to fully understand.

These things made the beginning difficult but one of the most fun parts of it all. Every thought could be quickly scribbled out, fulfilling the urge to create, but not held back by perfection. It was wild, untamed, which made it unpredictable. A great idea could last a second before flickering out while a bad one could haunt you, not because the idea’s roots were rotten but because the branches had been infested by a failure to succeed.

You stared at the sketches of green bruises. The needles poked through skin, emerging from the bones themselves. Single drops of blood would sit atop the skin, staining it, drying deeply into the grooves. If the dirt and grime of the depicted horror went untreated it would stain not only the mind, but cling to the body like death itself, unable to be removed with hours upon days of scrubbing. It would always feel dirty, and you could always end up permanently stained.

This gorey twist that you adapted in your work was a little strange, even you had to admit it. You didn’t like the idea of torture porn when it came to horror movies, which some found surprising, clearly you didn’t hate it, but there had to be something gained from it. In your pieces you wanted each graphic mark to mean something, there needed to be a story you could read into if you wanted, but often they became reflections of struggles. It was relaxing, in the way that snapping and throwing something can make you sigh and sob after the frustration was finally released.

The thing about art is that it sucks ass. While it can be a weight off your shoulders and drain all of the stress out of you, it could just as easily make you want to stab someone’s eyes out. Staring at pins and needles for long enough just made you want to see your eyes shut so you didn’t have to see them everywhere else. Even closing your eyes made you think of the horrible blotchy shading that just did not want to work because you didn’t think and added too much water to your paints. Hell every time you groaned in frustration your fucking kidnapper look scared. So you tossed the brushes in the sink and worked on scrubbing out the paint before you ruined them right away.

“Do you usually work in these long multiple hour sessions?” He asked you over the sound of running water.

The water was cold, dangerously so. Your fingers toyed with the hair gently mixing small amounts of soap into it. This rhythmic movement helped calm you down and get out of the “holy mother of cats why won’t things go right” headspace that you got stuck in.

“Yeah, that’s common, anything less than three is an oddity.”

“I guess I just didn’t understand how hard it was.”

“Every job is kinda like that.”

You left the brushes on a spread out towel to dry. The pallet of rapidly drying paint was still there and there were a few reasons for why you didn’t clean off the paint; it’d ruin the plumbing, it was half dry anyways, you didn’t care, and it was fun to peel off later. If that little thing could give you some control maybe it would be worth it to wait and try to earn a way out.

Part of you felt like you were giving up too easily, that you had already lost your will to fight when you woke up that first day. Yelling at yourself wouldn’t do anything and you knew that but you felt like it was your fault. Perhaps you’re just the circus elephant tied to nothing. Yet you didn't blame yourself, or at least not as much as you think you were supposed to. Playing along and being good allows for you to be taken as a cute little pet that might be too frightened to try anything. Maybe other kidnappers are different.

You looked at Phinks from when he was leaning back in the folding chair balancing on its back legs. He was large, so much strength loomed over him, making him seem like the biggest in the room. Some damn part of him made you both think he was some jockey asshole like in movies and tv, or some large warm hearted man, though the latter seemed like a stretch.

“You’re starring again.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About?”

You gathered up the sketchbook you had ripped a handful of pages out of. You should lie. Shalnark said something like “he wasn’t perceptive” right? What if you were wrong? What about telling the truth? Would he kill you in anger? Slam you into the wall? Be the manifestation of the shadows from the covered half of the basement that had been driving you crazy, pulling you back and deep down into its maw, screaming as you die from-

“Just say it, I’m in a good mood, I don’t want it ruined with some anxiety attack because you’re scared to say someth-.”

“I don’t know how to feel.” You didn’t turn back to him as you walked towards the stairs, stopping at its feet, so he knew you weren’t trying to run away. “I don’t want to upset you or the others and risk dying or something arguably worse. I feel like everything has to be said correctly or not at all so I don’t find out someone is secretly more delusional than a damn LSD trip.”

You heard the chair squeak a bit as he stood up and walked towards the stairs, he didn’t stop like you and slowly started climbing them, slowly so you could continue.

“I should be scared, angry, maybe I should try to kill someone, or myself, try to escape? I don’t know, I can’t do any of those. I don’t want to, I hate how nice my room was, there was so much thought, so much detail, it felt so real, so close to my messy room. It creeps me out, enjoying the food, the room, the clothes, even the personal products make me feel like I graduated from a top academy with no debt and no depression.”

You lead him down the hall towards the living room. “I haven’t even looked outside you know, somehow I feel like it’ll make or break the dream. I think it might make me try something stupid, make me snap or something. I want to feel okay but I don’t, and when I don’t want to feel okay I do!” You ripped the curtain open, startling yourself.

“Did the window change anything?”

Woods. Beautiful moss covered trees that stretched far. The fire kissed trees rained down their leaves and it looked gorgeous. It reminded you of that date with the cats, the betrayal, of this fuck up of yours. It was something akin to heaven in your eyes, a perfectly twisted picture.

“I miss home.” You said finally tears slipping through your horribly masked emotions. You turned from the window stepping away from its bright light and into your dark room. You didn’t close the door fully behind you, it was very easy to look through the gap.

The blankets were smooth but when you burrowed into them to avoid everything, they felt fluffy against your skin. Even as your breath filled the underneath of them with hot air that felt suffocating, you accepted it with open arms. Stale warm air was unpleasant but it felt like the first warmth you’d felt in eons. The world outside this nest was cold and cruel, and you felt chained to the bed the more you thought about it.

The room's gentle darkness left you thinking as you tossed and turned. You fought back sobs but didn’t care about the tears that leaked down your face. Your sweetest boy laid next to you, his paw resting atop your hand as you faced him and the wall. You longed for the comfort of your real bed, sitting on the small balcony with your cat as he stared wide eyed at the birds.

Maybe you could have avoided this. Maybe if you had kept to yourself, avoided people like you had grown accustomed too, you could have continued your life. It didn’t change the fact that you were here now, but you were haunted by it. Those dark eyes at the damn exhibit. Why did it have to happen? Were you a fool? Were there any signs that you could have noticed? No matter how much crying you did or didn’t do you hated every second you were left to think about anything. Each damn second made you manic, and every other one made you depressed and unable to move. You felt so nauseous that soon you just vomited and sat on the bathroom floor headhung as you finally sobbed.

It was loud and obnoxious, you were lucky only one other person was home. It bounced off the walls. Phinks could definitely hear you. It was the kind of sob that was scratchy and full of angry screams, perfect for a tantrum that would destroy everything in a close area. You felt like a toddler who had been told no when asking for candy, a brat who wanted something. It felt like you were the problem even if you were just a victim of your surroundings. Yet you screamed and cried until your throat was sore, until it felt like it could have been bleeding, and you choked on the bubbling sobs as snot filled every airway.

You laid in a puddle of yourself, not moving when the front door opened and slammed shut. Unblinking as keys jingled down the hall with heavy footsteps. Looking with tired weak eyes, up at Phinks who stood, with plastic bags in hand, his face red and his eyes looking at the wall instead of you.

“It’s late, Fei and Shal want you to have a routine but they're not here… come stay up late and watch a movie or something? Shal bought some of your favorites and ones you’ve talked about! I have some chocolate, or popcorn if you’d like? I’m not sure what you all like when it comes to movie snacks…”

Your voice was so scratchy it hurt to hear you speak. “Please…” you whined as he helped pull you up and onto the living room couch.

He handed you the bags, a multipack of tissue boxes, an assortment of chocolate, popcorn, beer, teas, sodas, chips... You dug through it all and he returned with blankets in hand and a stuffed animal he knew you were attached to, that they all knew you were attached to.

He sat next to you, draping the blankets over you. He pulled a box of tissues out handing one to you. “Use the bag as a garbage bag for now.” He laid out everything haphazardly. He gently pulled your head down onto his lap and pressed the remote into your hand.

The blue glow of the tv puts you to sleep soon enough. It didn’t matter if it was one movie or ten, you were asleep, as soon as you were Phinks was too. You used his lap as a pillow, and Phinks leaned back, his head tossed over the couch’s back, his mouth hung open with a light snore as the tv eventually turned itself off.

In the morning you woke up when the keys turned to open the door’s lock. It made you jolt awake as the door was pushed open. Shalnark was clicking through his phone as he carried in a handful of something.

“Oh, you’re both up? How was the movie night?”

You sunk into the blankets giving back into your exhaustion. “Okay.”

You said it mostly to avoid any upset feelings on his end, the movie night was a nice way to avoid it all. You hated it considering everything, but those few hours of just zoning out at the tv and falling asleep to your favorite movies made you fell like home. You could imagine it so vividly it is what lulled you to sleep, the house didn’t have that smell of the three men, it was your home filled with cat fur, paints, and gesso.

You could feel the canvas frame from when you had to custom build one for a commission. Having to stretch it yourself, and you struggled to pull it back enough for it to hold well. The frame was obnoxiously large, you couldn’t fathom how they had the money to commission it or why they’d need one this size. That one had become a secret favorite, it was in someone’s private collection, an anonymous commissioner. You remember them sending someone to pick it up, which was strange, but if someone had that money how weird could it really be?

“Fei will be appearing soon, he has to drag something down to his office.” Shal giggled to himself speaking without catching his breath. “He’s surprisingly very interested in the work he brought back. It’s like a cat that got a hold of a mouse and doesn’t want to let it go.”

He set his envelope of papers down on the table, and sat down next to you on the couch. He was in front of you really, your back pressed firm against the couch nearly sinking into the cushions and the framework. Shalnark was turned slightly so he could face you and Phinks easily, his knees pressed against the front of the couch and one of Phinks’ knees. He breathed in deeply, his breath pushing both his stomach and chest out, he sort of chuckled as he sighed and leaned over to rest his head on the sofa’s back next to Phinks’ shoulder.

“I missed being home.”

Phinks and you didn’t say anything in response. Maybe Phinks secretly hated Shalnark, well, obviously not, but his silence kind of confused you. He cared deeply about the two from what you could tell, but who's to say you were ever good at reading the room. Your view upwards was obstructed by Shalnark hovering-leaning over you. Phinks moved his arm, you could see its shadow crossover you briefly, but you didn’t see what he did. Shalnark sat there resting with the two of you, this serene glazed look to him. He looked so pleasant, his hair hanging in his face, and his eyes closed.

He did eventually move, while he seemed content that was in no way comfortable to sit there for long. Shal eventually collected his things and ran off to go put them away. You gathered up the mess from the night before. Phinks took the trash out, you saw the cement steps out front as the door opened, and cool air rushed in to kiss your cheeks. The cat with wide eyes watched him complete his chores from the window, while you avoided looking at them. It was easier to stay busy with wiping the table and stacking the coasters in a neat pile in the center.

You kept wiping the table. Slow circular motions as you dazed off. The window just hurt you. Its clear glass was a mirror of your betrayal and gentle suffering, every damn time you saw that view it reminded you of the damned date. That date would remind you of his hands in your hair as you sobbed into his lap. What kind of suffering is this all? To be cursed with the inability to act, but blessed with a comfort of home and kindness. though it came from triplet tyrants. What tragedy had you fallen out of?

You went about giving yourself chores, dusting the shelves and tv stand, sweeping the kitchen floor, making a few pancakes with a box mix you had found, then cleaning up the mess you had made. Your hour or two of small chores only could keep you distracted for so long. You could hear Shalnark from his room, typing away on a keyboard and flipping through papers. When you walked past the basement you could hear things being moved around. It was faint and muffled, almost like you were hearing things, you wanted to go down there, the curiosity haunting you, but I’d anyone scared you the most it was Fetain.

You pushed open Phinks’ door. He had looked up at you as you did, but he didn’t say a thing, just motioned for you to come in. It was simple, navy sheets that were wrinkled, a strange mixture of pillows that didn’t have matching cases. There were some clothes lying around the room and the closet was open. He had a simple fold up chair in the corner and some green running jacket thrown across it. He didn’t have curtains, just the plastic blinds though some were bent and damaged. The closest thing to decoration was a digital clock on a wooden stool made bedside table and high quality at home gym equipment on the floor and tucked away into the closet.

“Need something?”

“I’ve never seen your rooms.” You half ignored the question, “and I don’t want to work on my painting when Fetain is working.”

He hummed, and you sat down on his bed looking at his window with the blinds pulled shut. “I hate it,” you said quietly to yourself, not knowing fully what you meant. “I might drive myself crazy. I keep trying to make things make sense, but I don’t get it.” You flopped down and rolled over, you didn’t look up at his face, didn’t acknowledge if he was looking at you or listening. “I think I’m ignoring half of everything to try and pretend that I’m okay.”

His hand rested on your head, his fingers playing with your hair. “You’re putting up with it well, though coming from me that doesn’t mean much.”

You grabbed his hand and his shirt. Pulling yourself up, straddling his waist. “Why couldn’t you have killed me? Torture me? Why not just make my life a real living hell? I feel like I’m burning but there’s nothing there, I keep thinking I’m drowning but I’m not!” Your hand trailed up to his neck, your nails pressing into his jugular, as you pinned him down to the bed. He laid there with his eyes wide but he didn’t move. “Please give me a good reason to hate it here! Please, I can't understand what’s going on! I didn’t ask for this. I don't know what I’m here for!” you screamed at him, though it wasn’t loud, just desperate. “I can’t do anything.”

His hand grabbed your hip and his other grabbed your neck, and he flipped the roles so he was hunched over you. His nails pressed into your skin. There was no weight to the threat. His hands while touching you, felt like they were hovering.

“You’re allowed to be angry, you don’t need permission for it.” And his hands were lifted away. and he was back on his side of the bed laying just like he was earlier, as if you never disrupted him.

Then you cried, you laid there curled up in a ball next to him. He never touched you, until you reached out and touched him, pulling yourself into his arms. He held you then gently and quietly until you relaxed and laid there half asleep and exhausted. His hands cupped your cheeks and you were held close to his face, his mouth a meare inch from your nose.

“I’ll do anything for you, even if you don’t like us or being here. We will do anything to keep you safe. I’ll make you as happy as I can, I swear to you I will.”

You heard Fetain come up from the basement when the door slammed shut. He was lighter than air with his footsteps so when he walked into Phinks’ room and ended up next to the bed you nearly screamed. “Try to sleep at ten and wake up at six. You need good sleep routine.”

You nodded, Phinks had mentioned it right? Ten to six seemed reasonable. “Exactly 6 am?”

“Roughly. Take time to change, one week to do yourself.”

“I’ll try to do it.” You nodded and a yawn slipped from your lips.

“Take nap, us three will talk work.” He waited for Phinks to get up.

Phinks patted your shoulder, “stay here and sleep for a bit we don’t want you dealing with our work stuff yet.”

“Okay.”

But Feitain hovered for a second longer than he needed to, just quietly looking at you with this deep thoughtful look in his eyes, yet he left without saying anything.

They had a habit of leaving you alone with your thoughts. Thankfully your cat at least sits with you when you need it, most of the time.

There was nothing to do with them all being busy. Something told you not to poke around for answers about what they were discussing. Even though you weren’t gonna search around for answers your mind wandered. It was a gross wandering similar to how one could lay in bed and gaze up into the darkness and just sit there. Rambling and turning whispers in your thoughts flashing images of blood gore and violence. How could anyone imagine what their jobs could be? You were used to surrounding yourself with images of oozing guts, but just beccause you had been decentized to it didn’t mean that fucking kidnappers who seemed more than used to living isolated was something you could handle.

You ran your hand back from the cat’s nose to his ears. He pressed himself so firmly against your hand that his eyelids were slightly pulled back as he demanded all of your attention. You could feel him breathing on you, his soft purrs are loud as he clung to you. When the fur around his face is pushed back his whole meringue look changes to one of a rat. His eyes while blown wide into dark saucers continue to look up at you fondly, his fur looks like a front facing bald eagle. There’s a reason you hardly ever see those angles, it’s less flattering. There’s less pride and a slicked back edge that is perceived as coolness. This is what that sweet cat looked like from this angle, his poofy roundness disappeared and strange looking from the front, while you never truly have looked too explore the other angles of the strange hair-do, the adorably crafted ugliness makes you melt into him as he melts into you.

As you lay there thoughts bubbling up worries and anxiety scratching away at your insides, this sweet fluff keeps you grounded. As was his task, he was an unofficial emotional support cat, nothing more than a pet that kept you mentally stable and provided both a comfort and reason to live. It was easy on the days where the paints seemed poisoned to be unable to reason and find out why you were alive. You wondered if everyone questioned this at times perhaps that’s why your artwork seemed so desperate, why you just cling to an intestine rope to pull you closer to answers and people who relate. It’s not something you can say for sure but even now, after a few years of this cat he kept you perfectly content to question but not give up.

He was also a good muse, posing in ways during his naps. Belly up, his head laid back against a pillow, his front paws folded under his chin but his back legs sticking upwards like two towers, fluffy and off white. He laid his ways that made it hard to determine if he was a cat or strang fluffy void, even though lots of cats did that. No matter how many photos and squeals you let out, it never felt the same, there simply isn't a connection. No photo could replace your cat, because you knew just about everything about him.

Sometimes you wondered if you relied too much on the cat, you’d question if the kidnappers thought the same if you weren’t so preoccupied with anything else. Even in captivity it seemed like you never had time for anything. All your plans would get mixed up or you would get horribly distracted. You acted as if you were wandering naked in a dark maze with how time snuck up on you. With no one to truly tell you otherwise you gave into it when you could, which was most of the time. Hours would be spent gazing off into walls and corners as you painted in your own head, it didn’t matter if you pictured it or not, it was the mental motions of the act that kept you entranced.

A jiggle of a brush, a whirlpool of the paint thinner. Hell the actions are what lured you down into the basement again. You hadn’t been told to stay, hadn't been told not to. You may not have paid attention to the home as you were pulled down to the basement by your navel; the living was quiet though the three men hummed and buzzed with a quiet conversation. You continued onto the door opening it so gently and silently you might have well just phased through the door to begin with. The unfinished steps hadn’t groaned or creaked as you stepped on them even though they should. The door hovered open, the light peering and stealing across the floor to the hall now behind you. As a moth would you step down and forwards moving towards your painting.

At this moment your eyes flashed with one lucid thought, “something isn’t right.” It didn't take a genius to know this but somehow as you were drugged by your own relaxation and you had taken the liberty to forget about everything that had been a bright neon sign telling you something was amiss. You looked away from your studio and across the room at another’s.

It’s important to note that some people have a personal belief that art is in the eye of the beholder, regardless of whether each piece usually has an original meaning in the grand scheme of things. You had thoughts and ideas, messages and stories to tell through your paintings. Each a commentary on something since you didn’t believe in unthoughtful gore and brutality, that wasn’t to say it had no meaning, but that there wasn’t a personal thought being expressed even deep below the surface. In this belief of art interpretation all art has at least two meanings, the artist’s original suffering inquiry, and the viewer’s lack of understanding. With this in mind the scene behind the curtain is much different then one in your studio.

The curtain had always been a temptation, that’s a simple fact of the matter. Place a marshmallow in front of a child and most struggle to resist even with the promise of more. This curtain in your case was so much more than temptation. A temptation is often pictured as sweet and sugary, lustful even, not a need but a want. This curtain was so much more than that, it was thorn covered and speckled with a lifetime of warnings but it wasn’t sweet, there was no guarantee of safety but an expectation of more. Even then you peeled it back.

It was more than a treasure trove of goodies, it was a threatening pile of one. The lights were on and you were slammed into with information as you peared across it all, for instance the room was large, much larger than you thought it was. While most of it was still unfinished further back against the far wall was a much more finished section. That is what you noticed second but you just were too in shock to register the first yet. The furthest wall was finished, a simple gray paint and from it hung old custom paintings, things both long forgotten and new. They were strange to see though in comparison to your room when you had first woken up nothing crazy. The first thing you noticed was crazier, though not too surprising.

The wall was lined with a board, hanging from it an assortment of household tools and even more specialty ones. Mostly pliers, wrenches, screwdrivers of all sorts of sizes. There were spools of wire, rope, and bolt cutters. There were more too, there were tweezers, the heavy duty kind, expensive looking, stainless steel and with a rubber grip. Each item while normally not threatening was fucking horrifying. The blindfolded and gagged half-dead looking man would ultimately agree if he saw the line up. Yet the detail of the organization, to the bindings, and yes even the table he was on, made it look like a perfectly created scene. To Feitain, who you half-confidently assumed was the resident torturer, this must be something artistic or even religious, sometimes the two came hand in hand.

His hair was glued by brown dried blood, his nose broken, the bruising covering his cheeks and eyes from what you could tell from afar. There was no way for him to escape from his binds, strapped down to the table. The table itself looked to be something akin to an embalming table, slightly slanted towards a floor drain, some blood already leaking down from the man and dried against the table’s cold smudged metal. He had bruises down his arms and legs dark purple and splotchy. His ankle looked painfully enlarged, not enough to be a break but horribly sprained.

You should have screamed in horror, your heartbeat sped up like crazy after all. There was enough adrenaline that maybe you could have killed a person, not your captors from the look and attitude of them. If a captor can be so unconcerned like they were either they were morons or knew full well that they had perfect complete control. From a second kidnapped person being in the basement looking like a corpse it’s easy to decide which.

Looking on even in your shocked state you made your third discovery. There were bulkhead doors. A small flight of stairs led up to them. In your shock you continued to move like a ghost, even though your chest was pounding. It rumbled in your gut, twisted and stabbed at your lungs, and you looked upwards at it, upwards into the dark steps a small crack of light. Your cat in all his loving sweetness rubbed up against your leg, mewling softly. You walked forwards reaching upward towards the door, climbing the stairs and gently pressing to see if they’d open, to your surprise it did.

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hhighkey · 5 months ago

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An Ode to... // Feitan, one shot - part of hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: Stockholm syndrome, implied past kidnapping and stalking, emotional and physical violence, isolation, torture, feitan dense when it comes to feelings, jealousy, possessive behavior, rough sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, female reader, etc Note: wc just over 9k, updated for grammar, ao3 link: xxx

Feitan followed you for a year before kidnapping you. You'd caught his eye by surprise one day- technically Phinks pointed you out to him- but your fate was decided then and there. So he'd yearn for you during nights he struggled to sleep, which turned into a battle within him raging of emotions unlike any he'd felt day in and out. It was like his chest and heart swelled so much around you or at the thought of you- he was so full with a warm giddiness that he thought he'd burst. For some days he wondered if killing you would make his life easier, until he realized one night that the thought of you dying hurt even more than any injury.

For eight months you'd been his.

And time didn't seem to matter anymore as you spent it in a small attic turned bedroom with a small bathroom. A tiny round window, with metal bars, was your only door to the outside world. You'd watched the seasons change from summer to fall, and now to winter. A dusting of white snow had fallen on the ground and furthermore a cold draft had you shaking under a mountain of thin blankets.

The first month you never left the attic, Feitan wouldn't let you. You didn't see him either, just opening the door to place food inside then immediately locking it again. Screaming and crying until your voice was hoarse and you had no more tears to cry. Days on end curled into a ball as you stared devoid at a plank wall. The ceilings were low, meeting at a point in the center, thankful you were short to be able to move around easier. For a while you refused to be broken, trying to do small things to keep up fitness, but slowly the lack of signs of rescue froze everything. Like your mind and body shut down so matter how you yearned for your prior life. Slipping into your own world you began in your head, an alternate reality with your loved ones that did its best to comfort you.

But each day you awoke in that same room in the same bed. Chilling how Feitan took your own pillows and blankets, to provide you some comfort or familiarity. Your favorite outfits in the drawers across the room, the cloth baby doll you slept with every night- it made you realize just how long your captor had been watching.

Month two you realized things in the room were moved ever so lightly in the morning. At first you chalked it up to your poor mental state, that you had simply forgotten. Until you woke up one night, around 2AM to a pair of dark eyes watching you. Feitan. He was the one who pulled the chair to your bedside. He was the reason you woke up feeling vulnerable and gross. After you caught him, he didn't bother to hide anymore.

He started watching you do the most mundane tasks, primarily eating, worried you'd choke. Started asking you the food you preferred and when you scarfed it as fast as possible, he grasped your jaw and helped you chew. That was the first time he'd touched you and your eyes lit up in shock from the chills that went down your spine. He didn't come around much after that, as you started getting too bold. You'd yell and scream at him, try throwing whatever you got your hands on. He left you isolated for weeks.

Maybe it was your pathetic nature of wanting to please everyone, not being able to stand up for yourself that really drew Feitan in. Because never once did you try to escape— Especially not when the way Feitan walked around the house had your eyes glued to him with stars dizzying within them.

By month four he let out downstairs, let you sit in the kitchen as he cooked. Let you watch a movie as long as you sit on the couch with your hips just touching his. And you did it, because watching the reruns of that boring soap opera was the best thing to happen to you in far too long. It kept you from attempting to escape- asides from the fact there was no way out of the dingy attic, especially when Feitan left for weeks on end.

The basement was cold.

Your feet felt like they'd freeze off the first time he brought you down there. You realized, rather quickly, that you never wanted to be there again.

And it was in that basement that you understood who Feitan truly was, what he did for work and why he constantly disappeared. And why you needn't disobey.

Even when he opened the door to the basement for the first time and motioned, you followed. Because five months in you'd listen due to fear.

But your disobedience shown in the way your body froze when you reached the bottom of the stairs- whimpers escaping your lips as you tried to go back up. Feitan had just stood there, pushing you further.

"Sit," He said, pointing to an armchair set up towards the workstation, "want you see me work."

"W-work?" You swallowed hard. With hindsight you shouldn't have been surprised that someone as cold as Feitan, your kidnapper, was a murderer. A torturer who relished in pain, as not one did your depressed state bother him.

A man- beaten bloody was strapped to a table cranked forward so his head hung. He was in a loose shirt and shorts, ankles and wrists chained to the steel surface.

"No.." The tears began to fall thickly, "please let me go upstairs-"

"No." Feitan watched you, "Sit. Waiting too long. Want you to watch. Been five months."

So you had been with him for five months, a part of you felt it'd been years already. "I can't," You whimpered, "please," your stomach was churning, bile rising in your throat as an intense heat dizzied your body.

Feitan grabbed your wrist as if you were a doll, dragging you over and into the chair, "Stay." it was a threat. You could only nod as snot began to run down your nose and sweat beaded at your brow. Breathing became hard, the air dense and the smell of blood was sickening.

The man's screams.

Your ears ring trying to drown the screeches out.

You couldn't stop your blubbering no matter how many glares Feitan sent your way. Your shoulders shaking and stomach in knots as you were continuously forced to swallow your own vomit to not make a mess, or ensue Feitan's wrath. Because you'd dealt with his cold shoulder or an occasional sprained limb from how strong he was. Used to his harsh words and threats, and invading eyes watching your every move when not locked in the attic. But you didn't want to be on that table, no matter what.

The man was inconsolable as Feitan grabbed a pair of pliers, snapping them over and over as he crept closer. A heavy whirl of silence, of anticipation- the calm before the storm really before Feitan used the pliers to grasp the captive's fingernail. One after another. Scream after scream. Blood. A sickening ripping noise before tossing them to a palette.

Oh the man was a mess. Voice hoarse with tears and saliva dripping down the side of his face as he begged for an end. Begged to die compared to the start for a reprise.

"Please- just kill me "

Feitan's head cocked, eyes darkening, "talk."

"No."

Feitan doesn't like hearing no, you know that. You've felt his silent anger when you'd cry and shriek- because you weren't doing what he wanted. And in that basement watching a man's blood splatter about, you realized you were all out of his good graces he was willing to give. Like his self awareness that you needed time to adjust finally reached its end. Because a wild thump came down with the force of a thousand suns, and three fingers toppled to the ground with crimson red spurting like a wild rose.

"Who moved merchandise?" Feitan hissed as he grasped another gruesome looking tool with his thin fingers.

"Go to hell,"

Rage. A sharp crack sounded as a molar went flying with a clatter across the room. It enraged him, all the defiance this captive had, for your first showcase of his work. So maybe he was embarrassed as he seethed from his pores, muscles tensed as an iron poker bent from his sheer will. He could hear your cries. Pathetic.

As he turned to you- you were cowering in the chair, with your head in your hands. Rocking back and forth as you blubbered about.

You weren't watching.

The man wasn't cracking and Feitan's patience expired. With limbs now missing and blood soaking the floor surrounding them, he knew the man had been serious about dying rather than spilling information.

So his focus was on you.

With horror your head snapped up as a nasty crunching noise forced vomit up your dried throat, the man's neck snapping in half, head falling limp with a bouncy recoil.

"Oh," you whimpered, you shrunk back as humanly possible. Coated in red, with anger, Feitan stalked his way to you.

You stumbled from the chair, your flight kicking in for the first time since he'd brought you here. Crawling and kicking until your back hit the wall and the tears stream heavier than before, like you were smack dab in a horror movie. His grim eyes preying on you like you were nothing but a snack, a glimmering blade at his side that has you quaking. Terror as he stood over you.

"Not watching." He hissed.

"I'm sorry! N-ext time!" You cried, holding your hands up in a meek defense, "I'll be better,"

Feitan was high on adrenaline. Enraged by the lack of pleasure his torture session brought. Frustrated by your reaction. How scared you were of him when all he was trying to do was include you in his work, something he loved. Something he wanted you to watch with pride.

You shriek as he grabs hold of your legs, yanking you toward him. Preying on you like a monster as he crouched down to put weight on you, knife in hand. Such a sadistic look in his eyes as he ripped your shirt up enough to show him your rib cage. Legs flailing. Arms weakly hitting at him. But he didn't move. Feitan brought the tip of the knife down to your skin and you went limp with shock. No noise left your mouth after a few seconds until a throaty, airy cry sounded out with spasming of your eyes following. Blood trickled down your stomach as Feitan carved letter after letter against your pained jerks. Begging. Sobbing. You were a mess underneath him as your vision began to falter as terror and agony washed over you making you numb.

"Next time, tie you on chair to watch." Feitan said with a smirk, possessively tracing the bloody gash that spelled out his name on your delicate skin. All you could do was cry and wheeze in and out of consciousness.

And as you finally went limp, a heavy breath shuddered from Feitan's lips as the reality set in. He grimaced. It was pure adrenaline and anger that he acted on, and the aftermath was a sickening regret bubbling in his chest. Hurting you wasn't something he wanted to do again.. unless absolutely necessary.

The following months you grew familiar with the schedule of when Feitan brought his victims and wanted you to watch.

Perhaps you were too sensitive. Too much of an empath as each incision he made into a captive, you felt the carving of his name burn on your skin. Like a searing branding of understanding their pain, to an extent, that they went through. An understanding of being a victim like them, but you were luckier in a sick sense because you had Feitan's mercy of love. If you could call it that no matter how many times he insisted he took you for protection because you were his.

Life with Feitan could be like living with a bomb, never knowing when or why it set off. Somedays you didn't look at him enough, others you stared too long and when his cheeks turned pink and he grew vicious. Learning his habits or moods was hard, but slowly you became accustomed.

Feitan liked to touch your waist, specifically shoving his hands under your shirt to feel your skin. His fingers would grip and prod even if you flinched from a sudden pinch. His greatest show of care was patting your head. He started doing so after you convinced him to let you take over meals, reminding him you always cooked for yourself prior. In another life basically. Then out of the blue Feitan took your things from the attic and into his room. You'd panicked looking for your missing plushies you needed to sleep, your missing pillow and favorite blanket. The dresser and closet were empty. Your toiletries were gone. Oh. Your heart sank, Feitan had enough of you. You were going to die.

So you went back downstairs, ready for him to take you down to the basement and tie you up. You let your mind wander to what methods or tools he'd use. Maybe he'd be kind and make it quick.

Feitan quirked a brow up as he saw your dejected form pad into the living room. You sat with a glazed, far away look on your face and immediately he panics.

"Y/N?" To hear your name from his lips, made yours tremble.

"I'm sorry."

He was upon you within seconds, grasping at your arms to pull up your sleeves, "What's wrong? Hurt?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

A look of disgust flashed over his features, "No, never. You're mine."

"But my room?"

"Oh." Feitan's eyes immediately flit anywhere other than you, dropping your arms to rest on the couch. He was embarrassed and you're trying to figure out what's going on. "Moved into my room, figured you liked me more, things have been... nice."

Did you? Like him? Not particularly, right? Sure you liked the sound of his voice or when his eyes softened when you walked into the room. You thought the faces he made were cute asides from the maliciously crazy ones when he tortured somebody. And you were beginning to like feeling his touches, unsure advances that showed he was human in there somewhere. Because he wanted your approval, that much was apparent after all these months. Wanted you to watch him with pride and reassure he was touching you correctly, caring for you correctly. And perhaps you were flattered realizing how enthralled he was, how much he knew about you down to the most minor details. While you only knew he was a killer. So maybe you did like him in a twisted way, your brain fogging past details of cruelty and pushing up warm emotions instead. For your own good you needed to forget he forced you to watch others die, that he cut your own skin, that he might have killed your family. You bargained with yourself that perhaps him locking you in the attic was for your own good, that you needed to see Feitan in a better light and you only needed some time. Right?

"Oh!" Your relief is evident. And he looked happy to see that. "Oh my." You place your hand over your heart, breathing in and out.

Feitan slowly rested a hand on top of your head, "Should have told you sooner... sorry."

"S'okay, misunderstanding. I'm good."

Feitan nodded simply because he could feel your pulse begin to slow from its prior heightened pace, "Come."

You followed behind him like a lost puppy needing its owner to find its way. Your heart felt at the bottom of your stomach, nervous to what Feitan had in mind moving you to his bedroom. The realization hit that you'd be in bed with him as you entered. His room was bare, which didn't surprise you. The only hint of life were your colorful blankets and plushies set up on the large bed. Two dressers, loveseat, and two doors you assumed were a bathroom and closet. Secretly you felt relief as it didn't smell of blood and there wasn't any sign of death.

Feitan watched you as you took your time to look around the room. He said nothing as you opened drawers to find your things, while some had his. The closet had more of your clothes. The ensuite was clean as well. He liked seeing you nod an approval of the space you'd share with him, filled him with pride.

You sat on the bed.

You felt along your blankets and then his own he originally had. You rearranged your stuffed doll. Fluffed your pillow. Not having changed out of the clothes you slept in last night, you decided not to change because you weren't sure what Feitan was expecting of you. Embarrassment licked the edges of your neck as you felt your palms begin to sweat.

Terror coursed through your veins, your heart about to beat through your chest as you laid beside him. A few inches of space between the two of you. But it was suffocating as he joined you under the blanket.

"Relax. Won't hurt you."

You gripped the sheets tighter, "Okay."

"Don't believe me."

"I'm sorry." You immediately countered, tensing.

Feitan sighed, trying to remember advice Chrollo gave him: to be more understanding and soft, "Sorry for cutting you few months ago, wanted you to see what I enjoy and you seemed not to care. But I enjoy you more so, only come to basement if you want now. Free reign over inside when I'm gone, just no hurting yourself. No going outside unless I'm with you."

Huh? "I- can go out?"

"With me."

"Can we go out tomorrow? Will it rain? Can I run around on the grass?" You were like a child in a candy store, excitement dripping through your tone that has Feitan's lips turning up in the dark.

"If it rains tomorrow, go another time. Okay?"

"Yes. Perfect!" You were absolutely giddy, to the point personal space did not matter. You flung yourself across the bed to hug Feitan. Feeling his cold body you go still, filled you with horror realizing what you just did. "I'm sorry- I.."

Yet he wrapped an arm around you, ghosting along your skin like he was scared to scare you. He waited to see if you'd flinch away but you didn't.

"Don't apologize, like this." He hugged you taut.

There was nowhere to go but on him, really. You rested your head on his shoulder, forced to sprawl a leg across his own while your other wrenched beneath you. It felt like you may explode, a litany of conflicting emotions pulling you every which way. Hesitantly you placed your left hand across his chest, waiting for him to decide to hurt you or that this was taking it too far. But that never came. Feitan may have laid there like a statue, though after a few minutes he started squirming, attempting to relax with you in his arms while you listened to his wild heart beat.

You swallowed hard deciding to speak up, "I can move-"

"No." His words sounded laced with venom, but you could tell the slight difference. Feitan was nervous. Just like you were.

Your lips parted but no words came out. The fact you were both enduring the same confusing emotions, unsure how to physically figure the other out, made you feel so close to him. He was on your level, just as scared.

"Fei..tan?" You whispered his name, realization blossomed inside you and it was as if the last eight, maybe nine months were finally making sense!

"Yes?" It sounded, at least to you, like he was choking up.

"I- think I realize something. I think we're both awkward people and you didn't know how to go about any of this. Please hear me out." Boldly you pushed yourself out of his grip, pushing up on his chest so you could prop on your knees under the blanket. Feitan followed suit by sitting up to lean against the bed, quickly pulling the bedside lamp's string. He stared at you expectantly. So you continued with his full attention and the sudden coolness of losing his touch, "I think we feel the same way, not sure how to act around the other. I- don't get mad at me saying but you're very rough around the edges and I don't think anyone ever explained you shouldn't kidnap someone you love, or hurt them. But feeling your nerves, I'm realizing we're the same. I never know how to act around you, I thought you hated me or something but you're nervous too."

Your tongue felt numb as you spilled as many words as possible. Unsure if you made sense. Unable to look at Feitan as you spoke.

He was quiet until a hand touched your cheek, "You- feel for me how I feel for you?"

You nod.

Feitan brought your chin up so your gazes could connect. There was no maliciousness, only nerves. His lips aren't in their normal frown, instead they're slightly parted. He pulled you closer, hating that you chose to sit inches too far for his taste, having been in his arms prior.

You let out a whine as Feitan leaned in, his breath fanning along your lips. Your body was begging for him to close the gap, your stomach a fluttering mess of butterflies working its way through your ribcage. Blood pounded in your ears,

"Feitan?"

"Quiet." Fingers shake as you bring them to run through his black locks, causing a shiver to go down his spine and the smallest of noises to come from his throat. You found something he enjoyed and your heart felt content as you massaged along his scalp as his lips lay centimeters from yours.

The kiss was hesitant. Barely a peck as the touch of your lips had you both upright, shocked, staring at the other. Like a deer in headlights you waited for him to get upset, to kill you even. But he only captured your lips again, for a deeper kiss as your lips meshed together. His tongue pushed in, exploring your mouth greedily as he squeezed your waist. You made a noise as he flipped you underneath him, slamming his mouth back against yours as he pressed himself into you.

When you two parted, gasping for air, uncertain as you each explored each other's bodies, a gentle smile pulled at the corners of your lips. Feitan licked along your jaw, licked down your neck occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin. You whimpered and he pulled away as if you'd stabbed him.

"Liked.. that?" When you nodded his eyes glossed over. You liked it as he sucked and bit at your neck. What other pain could he inflict to bring you pleasure? You really were made for him, he told himself.

You reach up to try to take one of his hands into yours, he obliged, put his weight on his other forearm, "So.. I.." Embarrassment hit you and you suddenly felt ridiculous for what you were about to ask.

"What."

"Are we..?"

"Don't understand."

Your face went red, you looked away still feeling his breath across your face, "Never mind."

"Go to sleep, you're thinking too hard." Feitan huffed as he rolled off you, "Taking you outside tomorrow, you need rest."

"Okay."

To your surprise he hugged you from behind, nestling up to you, letting you slot into him as if it were the perfect fit. You could tell this was new, not something he did from how tense his body was. Sleep finally began to overtake your senses. A blossoming happiness in your chest as he traced a finger along your skin whilst holding your waist.

You fell asleep with a smile. Fell asleep with your back to his chest, him spooning you as if this was suddenly normal. As if you were an ordinary couple. You found comfort in his quiet breaths and knowing he'd watch over you. That night you dreamed of the day you met Feitan, and it changed, no longer was it filled with blood and cries, but a joy as if it were love at first sight. You two hand in hand walking off to a new life.

That morning you awoke with not a care in the world. You thought waking up to an empty bed would hurt, but nothing would diminish the smile smacked onto your lips. From an amazing dream to remembering your first kiss with Feitan, nothing could have taken that away. Giddy, you dressed in your most comfortable outfit and skipped out to face the rest of your day with excitement, feeling lighter than ever. The normal weight and anxiety you woke up with, was gone, replaced with a sense of purpose.

A list formed in your head of what you wanted to do. 1. Check the weather and if Feitan doesn't have to work, 2. Make breakfast, 3. Go outside.

The morning sun was strong amidst the blue, cloudless sky as you stared out the kitchen window. You grinned before grabbing ingredients you'd need for breakfast, hoping Feitan would be joining, but regardless you'd cook for him. You worked with a hop in your step, movements nonchalant as you continued to glance at the mid-morning sky. Too focused to feel a presence hidden, watching, until-

"You look... happy."

You squeaked, jumping at the sudden voice. You felt his dark aura first before you turned to see him, standing in the doorway, "Good morning. Hungry?"

Feitan nodded, inching over to the table. Your smile ignites a pain in his chest that he didn't understand. As he looked over you, all he could think about was his lips on yours and the addiction of it that stained his blood. How you'd snuggled into him. How in your sleep you'd begged him not to leave you. Feitan doesn't think he likes the churning in his stomach or the nerves coursing through him as he looks at you- it scares him. You had the power to turn him into this.

"Made scrambled eggs and toast, that okay?" You set a plate in front of him, creases at the corner of your eyes as you do so.

"Yes." He watched as you got him something to drink, then sat down with your own food. On the tip of his tongue are questions about last night, but Feitan felt ridiculous asking if you liked kissing him, or if he could do it again.

"Is it okay? Made it kind of quick, it's a nice day out." You smiled warmly at him, expectantly.

"Yes, good. We'll go outside when you're done."

He remembered and was following through, it meant the world to you. So you finish eating to clean up, which he surprised you by doing himself.

You were like an excited puppy standing by the front door bouncing on the balls of your feet.

"Stay in my sight. Can't run anywhere without me finding."

"I know I know. Can I run around the yard at least?"

"Sure." His threat went right over your head. It hits him that you don't need a threat to stay put. You weren't planning anything.

It didn't take long to undo the litany of locks on the door, it didn't matter if you knew where any keys were kept. Nen was the key factor to them.

He had to urge you out, that it really was okay to be outside, "Go out, I'll be sitting right here." He said rubbing the low of your back.

After a few grueling seconds you comply, a small giggle as you hurry off the porch. There was pure glee on your face, in your body and voice as your feet touched the grass. Squealing you carefully move around, skipping one way then the other.

You were a curious thing to Feitan, who found nothing interesting in the nature that surrounded the house. But you, running around in circles until you collapsed out of breath, loved it. You looked serene, stunning, just taking the breath away from Feitan as he watched you. You were perfect.

It hurt. It hurt. Feitan's convinced he was dying. Heaviness weighing on his chest and shoulders as he watched you. He didn't know how to be what you need. For the first time since kidnapping you he questions his judgment seeing how happy you were being outside, something he'd stolen from you. He wondered if he could give you the love you deserved when he'd never experienced it himself. While he hated himself. While he hated what was inside his darkened mind compared to the light that was you. So ethereal and kind, unlike him whose hands would forever be tainted.

Unbeknownst to you, Feitan retreated within himself while you basked in the summer sun.

Five weeks ago Feitan kissed you. He'd taken you outside and it'd been one of the best days of your life. You were certain it was the turning point in the relationship but- it wasn't. Things weren't worse by any means, but he treated your touch like the plague.

It felt like a continuous stab to the heart, every minute of the day at this point. You felt stupid. After a week of attempting physical contact in bed or on the couch, you gave up not wanting to further embarrass yourself. And slowly the conversation died out. He stopped eating meals at the table. Staying as far away as possible in bed, you began moving your pillows back up to the attic, which caused him to intervene. Making it clear you weren't permitted to do that, he locked the door to the attic shortly after.

He left two weeks ago for an important job. You only knew he was okay because Phinks stopped by to check on you and bring food. It took everything in you not to ask Phinks for advice, you'd only met him in passing and Feitan was... absurdly possessive. Even his closest 'friend' couldn't get within a foot of you without facing Feitan's wrath.

So you spent the days alone re-reading a book because you can't quite pay attention to it. You spend too long staring out the window by the front door, yearning pathetically from the couch. Knowing there were cameras kept you from crying for a strange reason you couldn't pinpoint, perhaps wanting to seem strong if he checked in.

You think it's Friday, 16 days since Feitan left. Time blended together, especially when he wasn't there to mark the calendar.

Frustration bubbled in your chest as you threw your towel into the corner of the bathroom. Your wet hair seeps into your nightgown, purple hues taking over the blue sky. You want to throw your shampoo, then your body wash you think. For a second you felt the appeal of thrashing your fist into the sink mirror. How good that would feel, you'd have control over something.

Breathe in. Out.

You count in your head, staring at your reflection with disgust. This would show him, right? You thought about him finding you all bloody, the panic that would consume him, and hopefully guilt too.

Tears prick your eyes, you huff moving back. Your reflection blurred. Annoyance grew, controlled her until-

SLAM. The sound of the front door closed suddenly, announcing that Feitan was back- and in the manner the door slammed, told you he wasn't alone.

You scamper out of the bathroom, practically forgetting your prior plans, needing to catch a glimpse of Feitan.

In his arms, he carried an unconscious woman bound and gagged.

Your stomach plummeted.

He glanced your way once before disappearing down to the basement.

Lips trembling, you stumbled forward, acting against better judgment. The air leading down to Feitan's torture room was dense and metallic scented. Rotted and death-like. You hated it down there, you felt bile rise up into your throat but you pushed through the fear that begged you to turn back.

You stood hidden behind the doorway, peaking in just so you could see Feitan had already finished tying her down in the chair. You weren't sure if he felt your presence as if he did he made no effort to greet you. Did he not miss you? Your fists clench as you rake across the battered woman, taking her in. She was beautiful. Fuck. The only relief you felt was that she sat in that chair- meaning she wasn't here to replace you. Feitan hadn't put you in that chair ever.

You stepped through the doorway as Feitan picked up a knife from a table.

Feitan's head snapped in your direction. His body language went taut, surprised, so he hadn't noticed you. He'd been too wrapped up in the woman who passed you in beauty in every way possible. Did he notice that as he looked at you now? Self conscious thoughts attack your mind as you drop your head.

"You're- you want to watch?" His voice was filled with hope, not that you noticed. You heard it as disgust by having you in the room.

You nod, drop into your chair beside the door, one you hadn't sat in, in five weeks.

For the first time he didn't need to remind you to watch his every action.

Your eyes couldn't be pried from his hands. He wondered if you were even blinking. What happened for this change? Feitan wracked his brain as he cut into the woman. He didn't notice what he was doing, hardly listening to her cries and shit information spilling from her lips. Did something happen to you? Phinks said you were fine. Feitan's thoughts flick to his recent closed-off behavior, knowing it had to be upsetting you. Shit. That was it, right? He moved on to more cuts, more stabs to bleed his prisoner dry. She was saying things he already knew, he told Chrollo this woman would be useless, so this was a waste. Why were you choosing to watch this? He wanted to look at you but also needed to finish work, for once torturing another being was boring him. He wanted to get back to you, needed to talk to you, apologize even.

SLAM.

You were reeling- unable to contain yourself as you stormed from the room. One second your eyes were flickering from floor to the captive's body following Feitan's every movement, to watching the walls of the basement fly by as you raced towards a bathroom.

Disgust curdled inside you. Anger wrenched at your limbs. You fumed as you remembered how he touched that woman's body as if torturing her was a sensual dance. It made you sick to see how his fingers would flit along parts of her skin that you dreamed he'd touch on yourself. He hadn't looked at you! You gagged over the toilet, head pounding as your body attempted to heave bile from your stomach. Dizzied with jealousy and hurt, you want to cry. Maybe attempt to slap Feitan if he'd let you. You think of your idea with the mirror, that could work.

Feitan stood outside the door, as soon as you opened it, you walked face first into his chest. Out of reflex you shoved him back, wide eyed at him.

"What's wrong? Throw up?" There was concern written all over him. Actual legitimate emotion, softness in his face as he inched closer.

"Dry heaved." You said, unable to hold back the snark in your tone.

"Okay?"

You glared, confidence surging within you as all you could see was green. Feitan took a step back, surprised. "Seriously?" You huffed, "Just go back to your work."

As you turn to leave him standing dumbfounded in the hall to head upstairs, his hand wrapped around your bicep. You're pulled back with force that makes you lose your breath. Your back's forced against the stone wall, Feitan caging you between his arms. "What is wrong with you?"

You swallow, the lump in your throat refusing to go. You felt instant shame with yourself but yet- didn't he deserve your anger? Was he really that dense with your emotions? Squaring yourself, you wouldn't back down, "I'm fine. Just.. go back to her."

Oh! "Funny girl." Feitan cackled. A shallow, chill inducing laugh escaped his lips.

Incredulously you shook your head, "Why are you laughing?"

He pushed himself off the wall and away from you. Still fucking laughing.

You balled your fists and walked over to him, fuming. "Stop it!" He let you hit his chest with your fists, let you throw your little temper tantrum as amusement danced in his dark eyes.

It was when tears began to fall did he finally compose himself. Feitan wiped the stray tears and wouldn't let you look away from him, hand possessively holding your jaw. "Jealous." He smirked. "My silly girl jealous over my work. Work, Y/N."

"I-It's not that- not the same. You've.. You've never brought a girl back here before." Oh god if only you could curl up under a blanket and hide, shame crossing your face, "It's not funny."

"How is it not? You're jealous over someone who will die."

"You're touching her." You spat, "You don't touch me, barely. Not after.. I thought." Taking a deep breath you collected yourself before beginning, "Since you moved me into your room, since we kissed and fell asleep together, you act like it never happened and ignore me for weeks. So yes I'm jealous of her, you're touching her so gently and in places I want you to touch me."

Your confession threw Feitan off his axis, processing your words at a million miles an hour yet it was like he stared at you brain dead. He really fucked this up. "I'm not being gentle. I'm torturing her." He did not understand how you thought he was being intimate with a prisoner, it killed him to stay away from you.

"But you brush along her so gently before making cuts, I thought I was going to die!" And he'd skipped past the part where you brought up the kiss and how he'd held you. Of course, "I'm going to go take a nap."

He let you go, watching your dejected form march up the wooden stairs. His brows furrowed over what the fuck just happened. He'd let you storm off and speak to him in a way he'd never imagine you would.

Feitan clenched his fists. He wanted to follow after you but there was one final thing he needed to take care of.

Red cascaded down the front of the woman as he slit her throat. Her tears and pleading only fueling the fire started within him. He stripped himself of his gear, leaving him blood free to chase after you.

You don't move from where you lay under the covers in his bed, but Feitan knew you weren't asleep. He pads to the bed, carefully sitting on the edge next to you.

"Y/N."

You don't respond.

He sighed, "She's dead." You visibly tensed.

You begrudgingly sit up knowing you've been caught, looking at him with reddened eyes. "Oh."

Feitan tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear, "Since our kiss, I don't know how to act around you."

His omission makes you frown, "I don't understand."

"When you said you felt for me how I felt for you.. made me happy. You kissed me back, wanted me to hold you. I didn't expect it, thought you'd regret it later so I ran."

"I thought you regretted it."

"Never."

"I feel.. dumb." You said.

"Little foolish. But, I like that. Your jealousy is cute." He smirked, "But no reason to be anymore, okay?" You nod, scooting closer to him. Feitan tucks an arm around you, cradling the side of your head, "Was happy you came down to watch but, guess I know why now."

"Maybe I can.. slowly come down for little bits? I- don't like it but, you like it when I watch you work." You're burning, nauseas, because the last thing you wanted was to listen to screams, to bones breaking, to the noises that'd keep you up at night. But it would be for Feitan.

"I would like that." He nodded with sick excitement behind his eyes.

Silence. Softened smiles. Fluttering heart beats as a thick tension develops between you two. He was staring at your lips, your neck, and you couldn't tear yourself away from him. Closer, you silently lean in as your breathing turns heavy. You were sure he could hear your hammering heart beat as if it'd burst from your chest.

The gap closed. Your lips meet in a dance of uncertainty as self consciousness absorbs your minds until it bursts from need. Feitan was cold, certain as he pressed his lips hard to yours over and over, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. On fire as you gasp from the pain, metallic blood enters your mouth as Feitan's tongue pushes its way in. He explored you as his fingers dig into your side, your tongue dancing along his as electricity runs through your veins. You think your whole body is trembling, or maybe it was his as the kiss turned desperate, teeth gnashing, tongues shoved down the other's throat as saliva mixed; once light kisses turned to an all out way for the two of you to claim the other.

Feitan helped your legs wrap around his waist before he flipped you underneath him hovering over you on the bed. His whimpers against your mouth were the greatest thing you think you'll ever hear. And his need to control you, to possess you as his made your head go cloudy with want as his mouth worked against yours. He was consuming you as his confidence grew. That pit in his stomach growing with the certainty of your feelings, the change of the tide after nine months, that he felt. You wanted him. You understood everything he'd done had been to show you his feelings. So now he'd claim you like he should have weeks ago, rather than worry about the kiss.

Atop you, he watched with dark glee how you panted, mewled for him as he pulled away to watch you. You clambered for him as you were out of breath, saliva dripping from the side of your lips. In a swift motion he lifted your torso and pulled your shirt from your body, and as he pushed you back he leaned down entranced by your bare skin. He bit into your collarbone, licked along the mark that broke skin. You'd gasped in surprise, fingers twisting into his top, tears glistening in your eyes.

He continued to mark you, your cries music to him as he broke more of your skin with his teeth. Blood trickling only to be licked up by Feitan. You'd be littered with hickeys in the morning and the thought of you all bruised up made his cock twitch. Feitan slowly nibbled along one of your hardened nipples, studying how your body reacted. You were a desperate little thing he learned quickly as he sucked on your nipples, groping and molding your breasts with his strong fingers. Already quaking- how pathetic.

Feitan began to wonder if you'd done this before, because in the year he'd watched you, you never brought someone home or went to another's. But a possessive streak hits him and he doesn't want to know, because no one else would ever have you from here on out. He was going to make your cunt into the shape of his cock, make it so you'd never want or need anyone else.

"Fei," You whined, and the usage of a nickname made his head snap up to meet your lidded eyes. Your hips bucked against his as he straddled you and the discomfort of his hardened cock in his slacks began to gnaw at his brain.

As his fingers begin to toy with your waist band, he lets himself wonder if this was a dream. He'd have been as patient as you needed him to be. So to think everything he dreamed about for almost 2 years was coming to fruition? He stripped himself of his top and slacks, leaving only his underwear.

Fear clamped in the back of your mind as if you needed to escape. But as the cool air met your exposed entrance as Feitan tossed your boxers away, you relinquished yourself to him. He admired you from his knees as he pushed your thighs apart.

"Tell me what you want." A mischievous glint shone in his eyes and you shivered.

"Y-you Feitan." You squirmed under his heavy gaze, desperately wanting to cover up. He inspected every inch of you, but he always came back to the scar on your rib cage that held his name. His property.

Feitan shuddered hearing how lustfully you spoke his name, he liked this sudden change in dynamic. Liked how you begged for him so easily as he stroked so close but not quite at your most sensitive areas. Your pussy glistened, liquid coating your folds and slowly dripping to the sheets.

You could only see his dark eyes as your world spun on its axis. You feel him between your legs, tongue leisurely licking along your aching clit. Taking his time he listened to your whimpers, to your gasps as he changed the pace. You're grasping the sheets, knuckles white as your entrance fluttered in want. He latched onto your clit, and you cried as he suckled and teeth brushed along your sensitive bundle of nerves. Working you up to a climax, he presses his palms into your legs to keep them open. You're shaking. You're desperately trying to escape an onslaught your poor brain and body had never experienced before. It wasn't longer before you cried out, visiting turning black then white as you came, hips jerking and your lips babbling nonsense. Feitan continued to lick helping you come down, pride beaming from his chest. Internally thanking Phinks for all the times over the years he pushed him into sharing someone's bed, that he needed practice, all for you even if he didn't know it yet.

You moaned, furiously blinking before his tongue dances along your folds, licking and sucking at your cum like it's the best meal he'd ever taste. Tongue prodding at your entrance, his gaze flicks up to see you watch him in awe and pleasure, as he licks along your walls. Your clit is puffy as he worked his way back up, a finger delicately toying at your entrance as you gasp. More?

Feitan hummed against your clit, liquid pleasure pulsing within him but all he could do was grind against the mattress, he wanted to see you come apart some more. You babble something incoherent as he brings a finger up and covers it in your arousal, gently sucking still. His middle finger sunk in with ease, your back arching as he fills you. He adds another. He smiled so cruelly as your heat welcomed them so greedily.

"Tight cunt." Feitan groaned, "So wet. Taste so good." He hummed against your clit and the vibrations made you whimper.

You're moaning for him like he was your life line. Sucking him in and begging for more and you were starting to wonder which way was up or down. His tongue oscillating in mesmerizing circles along your clit, his fingers curling along your gummy walls that beg him for more. You were on the edge. You felt pleasure building you up so deliciously, "Fei, more, more, feel good."

For a second he froze as one of your hands tangle in his hair, but seeing you blissed out in his bed- he made you nearly sob as added a third finger stretching you apart as he cruelly sucked your clit until your moans are cries, gasping and loud, as if you were in pain. But instead, once more, ecstasy blossomed in your abdomen right as you thought you'd burst, and tears fell fast. You came on his tongue and fingers, squirt dribbling, your cunt fluttering around him as his motions slowed.

"Pretty." He cooed as he watched your writhing body with curiosity.

A confused cry left you as his touch disappeared, but you watched as he stripped himself of his underwear, finally leaving him bare.

"Gonna fuck you. All mine."

You whimper as he settles between your legs, his thick cockhead prodding at your slick entrance.

"Be good and take me." Feitan grunted as he began to push in.

"F-Fei- Virgin- I-I'm a-" You cried as you thrashed on the sheets, feeling as if Feitan was splitting you in two as he sheathed himself inside you.

An onslaught of butterflies swarmed in his stomach and could have come on the spot from your words alone. A virgin? He knew you were meant to be his, and him yours.

"There you go, tight cunt for me to fill." He pressed his lips to yours, knots in his core tightened as he thrusted deeper, hips to the hilt as he was finally claiming you, filling you.

He watched your eyes go wide, eyes spasming from the intrusion. Your gummy walls squeezing his cock so good as she attempted to accommodate his size. Feitan swallowed hard, trying to stifle his own noises, desperately wanting to be so far in you that you'd never think of anything else.

Blood trickled from your cunt and onto the sheets and it stirred Feitan's hips into a bruising pace as he felt the warmth of your virgin blood surrounding his cock. Liked knowing what he did to you, watching his outline in your stomach as he pushed down, a slimy grin forming on his lips.

He wanted to break you. But he felt himself losing composure as he pounded into your tight cunt. The two of you consumed with warmth and fire spreading along your nerves as together, you chased an intense high consummating some sick love.

"Mine." You were losing your mind as Feitan grunted those words, "Mine." He snapped his hips and you gasped from the intrusion of his cock against your womb, "Tell me who you belong to."

Your pretty eyes were hazy, rolling back into your head as your poor fucked out brain couldn't comprehend. His cock felt so perfect inside your pussy that coated him in your cream from the bliss you felt.

"You!" You cry out, "Fei- Feitan. You! I'm yours." You sobbed, only his name on your tongue and on your mind.

Feitan relished in the sight of his cock fucking into you, disappearing into your depth, his hips flushed with your own. And each time he pulled out, the sight of your bloodied cum on his length made him shudder. He gathered your discharge on his thumb and used it to coat your clit, relentlessly rubbing over it. His hips started to move again, desperately forcing himself deeper as he played with your bud. Your cunt spasming around him again as you attempted to escape his onslaught of overstimulation.

"T-Too much- can't Fei-"

"Never push me away," He threatened, leaning down to nip at your ear, "Will punish you."

You whimpered but the way your cunt opened up for him told him all he needed to know-- the pain, the helplessness, he was turning you on. Straightening again he continued to fuck into you, swiping over your clit, far past the point of pleasing you, rough thrusts hitting your g-spot over and over. You let out an honest to god cry as your third orgasm hit, words thick and hard to understand but Feitan understood how you begged and pleaded for him.

Feitan gripped your hips harder so he could drive into you at a relentless pace, throwing his head back, looking up to the ceiling as he gave you all he had. You pulsed around him all swollen and tight and he knew he wouldn't last much longer,

"Gonna fill you up. Take my cum in your pussy. Mine. My pussy- you're mine." Feitan was past the point of keeping quiet as his possessiveness slammed into him full force. The thought of his cum painting your insides and leaking out...

Falling forward he crushed his mouth onto yours, giving several long thrusts before his vision whited out as he came. Cock twitching as he filled you to the brim, hips stuttering all the way against you, hot, thick ropes of cum coating you. Claiming you. Becoming one with you.

His pace slowed but his lips never left yours, the two of you panting into each other as you came down. Feitan pulled away, resting his forehead to yours, your eyes meeting. Vulnerability. Like truly seeing each other for the first time. He stroked your cheekbones carefully, trying to sense any fear. But nothing. Your eyes shone with a million stars as you shuddered, staring at him, hips twitching as he pulled out. Leaving you emptier than you'd ever been.

Feitan pulled away, dropping back to his knees, carefully stroking along where he'd carved his name into your skin, stroking down your waist then to your thighs. His touch cold, addictive as he thumbed along your leaking folds, his cum beginning to drip down. "Mine."

"Yours."

He stared at you before his cheeks tinted pink, "I'm yours too. Only yours. Don't care about stupid woman I tortured, just my job. You're my.. life. Won't give you space again, won't run if I get scared, this was all my fault, I didn't want to bring you pain. I'll make it up to you."

Your eyes widen with love filling them, a stupidly happy grin washing over you from the gravity of his words, "I love you."

Feitan froze like he was in head on collision, by your proclamation. Love. Did he deserve that? No. He didn't deserve your love but he couldn't deny the happiness he felt in his chest and how his pulse skyrocketed, "Love you as well."

Feitan laid at your side, stroking along your body as sleep eventually overcame you. You seemed so innocent, so small lying in his arms like that. Watching you sleep was a favorite pastime, but knowing you slumbered with his cum buried in you was enough to entrance him back into your gravity.

Your passed out form hardly reacted to his touches, soft moans as he slid his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt. Little twitches as he sucked on your nipples. And you stayed asleep as he slipped his re-hardened cock back inside of your abused cunt, full heartedly welcoming him in.

The bed creaked and thumped against the wall as he let loose, let his grunt and sobs loudly leave him as he fucked you full once more. This was heaven. Pure bliss. Not even torturing made him feel this way, so high, so invincible. Feitan indulged in you until he was a whiny overstimulated mess, heaving atop you and leaving even more marks. He fucked you until he couldn't cum anymore, dumping two more loads into your pussy that became swollen and tight, a perfect fit for his cock.

It was then that he could finally sleep, curled up next to your limp body holding you flush. He pet your hair possessively as you subconsciously cuddled into him further, blood pounding in his ears. The fact you'd been jealous made his chest soar. You hated someone for having his attention because you wanted it. You loved him for him. And it was then that he could finally drift off to sleep, content knowing you were filled with him. His.

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