#yandere feitan smut

[mamayan]

YANDERE! FEITAN PORTER X DARLING!

TOUCH

⚠️ This is a work of fiction with content I do not condone in reality. This is not meant to encourage or represent any type or sort of conduct. This is merely just fantasy ⚠️

MDNI•18+

Trigger warnings!

This work contains: Yandere content/intentions•NSFW•Kidnapping•Holding against will (darling)•Cursing•Mentions of abuse/torture•Stockholm Syndrome•General depravity•Obsessive tendencies•Sexual acts (consensual but darling is psychologically not sound of mind to be consenting, so somewhat dubcon)•Oral•fem darling•Somnophilia

You have been properly warned and notified of what this work contains. If anything above offends or triggers you, please do not continue reading. Don’t make me waste my time writing all this out only for someone to read and get offended when all the warning literally tell them what is in this. You reading this confirms you are 18+ years of age, meaning a consenting adult agreeing to proceed and consume this content, do not come after me or report me because you aren’t capable of managing yourself.

I appreciate support and love from anyone viewing and enjoying my content. Thank you♥️ I freakin’ love this 1999 anime artwork of Feitan!

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡. .｡.:*

Time suddenly seemed to become irrelevant.

The days passed in a mundane blur, and at some point, everything seemed worthless.

He mentioned in passing that it was November now, though you’d stopped asking the date a few months after your imprisonment. You stopped talking nearly all together these last few months. You couldn’t be entirely sure the last you’d spoken more than a word or two in response to his questions. His own speech minimal, though occasionally you’d catch a glimpse of his chattier side. Even that still couldn’t be considered talkative, more of a normal amount of speech when in a conversation. You haven’t seen that in a while either, maybe it disappeared when you’d stopped your own blubbering and whining. You didn’t ask questions at all anymore. It was pointless and had little meaning.

He sat in his usual spot.

Perched in the corner of the room, eyes sharply trained on your form as always.

His eyes used to unnerve you, riddle you with anxiety and fear of what he was planning. What he might do. What he will do.

It mattered hardly at all at this point.

You’d senselessly begged once, for it all to stop and for him to just kill you already. That’s what he must’ve had planned in the end, for what else did he want with you? An object to admire?

It seemed mad in it’s own way, that thought. Your questions of something or anything personal went unanswered and occasionally punished with weeks of isolation. It was better not to pry.

Asking for mercy and a faster death only brought a wrath you didn’t know lay inside him down upon you.

It was the first time he became physical with you, touched you more than was the bare minimum of necessity. He was surprisingly warm. Except his touch at that time was anything but the usual gentleness you now realized he used with you. His unforgiving grip on your face as he dragged you to your knees, the absolute agony of having your jaw fractured. The pain was unbearable, and even now left phantom pains radiating down your body. He’d dragged you out the front door, for the first time in what seemed to be forever.

Outside was duller than your mind remembered.

You’d been thrown into a vehicle and taken somewhere new.

You’d never wished to take back words more than you did that day. He’d dragged you to some sort of… torture facility. Chained you in a corner and left you there for hours on end. Nervous and frightened, you waited and waited. When he did return, it wasn’t alone. Someone you’d never met was dragged in, strapped down to a table.

Feitan had never really demonstrated anything so frightening before. He’d been somewhat volatile and brash, but the sadistic side never revealed itself like it did that day.

A day turned into several, and for nearly a week you were made to watch his sessions as he called them. Where he’d laugh like a maniac as he turned living humans into creatures you pitied more than yourself. He’d wipe their blood on you, smile as you trembled and begged for it to stop.

When he finally heeded your pleas, he asked a question that left you numb.

“Still want to die?”

You didn’t want to die anymore, at least not by his hand. He knew no mercy. He had no grievance tearing someone apart and from the inside out. The events that followed spanned longer than you bothered to keep track of anymore. He brought you back to your “home” where you were kept locked away. You had a bed, blankets and pillows, clothes and food, clean water and hygiene products. You’d never appreciated a bed like you did that first night back before. The softness and warmth you felt made tears roll down your cheeks and you had thanked him for returning you. It was the first genuine gratitude you’d ever shown to him.

You glanced up from the TV running a show you barely processed to catch his gaze. Those grey orbs holding emotion you couldn’t name or had never seen. He was always so still, and his porcelain features gave him the feel of a doll. For a moment, you merely held his gaze, feeling oddly calm and panicked all at once. Why you felt panicked didn’t make sense, nor why you’d feel calm in the presence of what seemed to be the Grim Reaper himself. The only movement he made to acknowledge your attention was a slight quirk to his brow. His usually ignored but always open book in his hand closing. His face mostly covered left you little to go off to how he felt. You’d gotten somewhat good at interpreting even the tiniest hint of emotion from him, but currently with your own frazzled feelings, figuring out his wasn’t working.

Your legs were pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around them as you settled into a protected fleshy ball. The blanket on your shoulders helping ground you slightly.

Only a little.

“What?” His voice was raspy, his own lack of use evident.

It didn’t sound annoyed, though you could just be misinterpreting this entire interaction.

It felt odd to speak, your mouth slightly cottony and dry, but the urge in your chest felt strangely compelled to say his name.

“Fei” You’d judged his voice, but your own was just as bad.

His eyes widened slightly, though aside from somewhat visible surprise, you were in the dark on how he’d feel about a nickname. You’d given your captor a nickname long ago, though never voiced it aloud. Feitan… Fei felt less threatening.

Feitan is darkness and fear. Feitan tore your life away from you, terrorized you, imprisoned and controlled nearly every little aspect of your life down to your very diet. Feitan is the infamous torturer of the Phantom Troupe.

Fei… well, in your own mind, Fei had become a fictional sort of character. Fei was gentle, Fei listened when you spoke or rambled, and in your dreams Fei would touch you. You hadn’t felt much of any contact in so long, and the last time had left a physically and psychologically painful memory behind. In your dreams, Fei would hold you, touch and caress, Fei was quiet but powerful. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but nothing happening to you or around you was healthy. The mental sickness and insanity most certainly was tickling around your mind.

You’d tested boundaries early with Feitan.

Screaming, kicking, fighting, escape attempts, refusal to eat or comply… were all met with isolation and revoking of privileges. Asking for death was met with nightmares and aching pain that still bothered you when it was too cold.

You’d tried manipulation and coercion, neither you excelled in though. Feitan may be quiet, and occasionally his grammar is less than exemplary, but he is no fool. All attempts ended in… nothing. He did absolutely nothing. He was like a stone wall, impenetrable. Even now, you knew nothing of his intentions. Your only guess at this point, as out of place and ridiculous as it may sound, is companionship. He likely saw you as a pet of sorts, like one might “rescue” a cat off the street. The treatment you receive is rather similar too. In his eyes, maybe you were just like a cat to him. A weak kitty he plucked off the cold streets and gave a warm home. It used to be a thought which invoked fury, but now…

You wished he’d commit to all acts of a pet owner. This included giving affection. You craved it. Missed it. Needed it. Something. A weird and warbled voice in your mind said you’d even accept the negative attention if it meant he’d put his hands on you again. It’s a suicidal thought, but even as his gaze narrowed, you couldn’t stop your body.

He’s silent as always, as you uncurl from your position you’d taken as your usual way to cope. Holding yourself helped, but it’s be better if someone else did it. He didn’t make any indication your nickname offended him.

Shaking, you stood on weak legs and began a pursuit of something you’d never thought you’d even entertain. He was across the room, and while he was by no means a big man, his presence could be suffocating when up close. Gracelessly and with little tact in your actions, you approached until you could smell him. He always smelled like mint and something metallic. For once, the thought of the underlying scent being blood didn’t bother you. He smelled nice, and while his entire body language was closed off and reserved, he still hadn’t even twitched.

He just kept observing you.

Even as you sank down to your knees in front of where he sat.

Those sharp eyes followed you the entire way. When the realization of what you wanted to do came, you weren’t bombarded with the expected humiliation or shame. There wasn’t guilt or disgust like you used to feel when these feelings would arise.

Maybe it signaled you were too far gone to save anymore.

“Fei” his name left your lips again, and for the first time, his rapt attention felt good. It felt good to have him so focused on you. You watched as his head tilted slightly, his face hidden but you could somewhat fantasize about a soft smile playing on his lips behind the fabric of his collar. His favorite jacket always a staple in his clothing collection.

“What?” The way he asked proved he wasn’t revolted at your proximity. He didn’t seem to be asking what you were doing, but rather why you called his name.

“Touch me?” Though you’d phrased it like a question, it bordered precariously on being a demand. You probably looked ridiculous, kneeling at his feet and staring up at him like a sick puppy looking for even the smallest amount of attention. You should be avoiding him, trying to get away, doing anything but this. The only thing you felt though was fear of rejection. That he’d cackle like he does on the phone occasionally, with someone named Shalnark or Phinks, or like he did when he removed the hands of an artist and found humor in the irony. He didn’t answer immediately like he normally would with a direct question. This couldn’t possibly be considered a personal question that he enjoys avoiding, it has only to do with you.

“Please…” you sounded pathetic, even to yourself. The way your bottom lip pouted out and wobbled, the way your eyes watered a little as if you’d cry at any moment, the way you trembled. You didn’t want to grab onto his pant leg, still mindful that a kick from him could easily be your undoing. You’d have to wait till given permission. A pet is what he wants, right?

You could finally be hitting that special point of breaking.

This could be another delusion you’d conjured up and you’re moments away from a lot of pain or isolation again. It’s impossible to tell. No power rested in your hands, and that small realization had tears rolling down your cheeks as you looked at the man who’d reduced you to this mess.

Begging him for measly scraps of what should be your right. Humans needed the physical contact for their health, and while he was clearly the devil, you needed it. Needed him. Needed anything.

“Fei please… I’ll be good, whatever you want, please… I need- hck!” Your sobs were cut short as your body moved faster than your mind could process. You’d nearly bitten into your tongue as you choked for breath, unable to fully comprehend exactly what happened.

The leggings and sweater you wore weren’t warm at all to you. Even blankets seemed to have a chill that seeped through them. Right now though, warmth was creeping through your clothes as mint and copper flooded your senses. He’d pulled you into his lap. The realization was shocking, but the next thought was thrown away when thin strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“Oh” words died on your lips as a sensation you couldn’t name overcame you. You’d never realized how stiff you were until your body began to relax. Fully relax. “Oh…” it came out breathy and nearly excited, as you foolishly wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in the crook of it.

This was insanity.

He was all muscle unsurprisingly, but it didn’t deter you from trying to mold yourself to him. Your much softer figure held in his arms so gently it made a new wave of tears threaten to spill for all new reasons. You straddled him, front flush against his own, as you struggled to accept that you were being held right now.

“This?” His voice so close to your ear had a strange tingling sensation move from your neck down your spine. The shiver didn’t go unnoticed, as his hold tightened and pressed you further against him. It wasn’t necessarily the most pleasant way to be held, but it was many times better than nothing. You nodded against him, mumbling out a soft good as you basked in a moment of joy you hadn’t experienced in what seemed like forever. It felt good to be held.

It felt even better when his hand moved and brushed through your hair. His touch light and careful, and you could imagine how he was noting every little detail of your reactions. The shivers and little sighs you released as he continued to just pet, touch, and hold you.

For once, you dreaded him stopping.

Even as your eyes grew heavy and body went limp in his arms, you dreaded when this would end. If you could just figure a way to keep him like this, you could envision your life being bearable.

“Fei” you didn’t make any effort to move.

“Hmm” his chest vibrated a little with his hum.

“Can I sleep with you?” It didn’t take a genius to realize your question caused him to tense. His muscles tightening up and panic seeping into your system as you worry this took it too far. You both slept separately unless absolutely necessary, something you used to be grateful for and now hated. It was always freezing when you slept, no matter how warm it actually was.

You might’ve ruined his grace, overstepped if anything, but you needed to stay close to him physically. It wasn’t a want anymore but a necessity.

“Yes” his word both shocked and elated you, and with a few more gentle pats in his arms, you were asleep.

Your cunt throbbed and ached, your lower belly pulled tight inside like a string about to snap. You tried closing your legs, whining as the hot wet sensation continued despite the light struggle you began to put up. It felt good, whatever dream you were having, even as the scent of mint and soap surrounded you.

Small whimpers and gasps became heavy panting as you felt raw heavy pleasure blossom in your core. Something prodded your entrance, wiggling bit by bit till you were penetrated and stretched on something long and hard. It moved and rubbed inside you. The warm pressure on your clit only pulling you further.

It was heaven, even as a slight burn inside had you back to whining and arching your back as your cunt stretched to allow something else inside. Fingers?

The thought was gone as the pleasure radiated throughout your whole body.

It wouldn’t be the first wet dream you’d had, but it was the most realistic. The hot breath on your sensitive clit and twitching insides felt real, and the pleasure was so crisp. Your hands curled into the sheets, struggling between sleep and the impending orgasm threatening to take you.

Your eyes popped open as you came, body twisting as a sharp moan punctuated the air.

You were awake and finally realizing this wasn’t a delusion or dream. Someone was lapping at your cunt, your thighs held open and pinned by two pale hands. The sensitivity and slight bewilderment of the situation had you struggling to form a coherent thought.

“Fei-Feitan…?” If there was one thing you knew with perfect certainty, it was that he’d never leave you alone long enough for someone to find you and do this. It couldn’t be anyone else. Though the fact he was doing this was even more incomprehensible. He seemed so disgusted by touch, so detached from human emotions, it really never occurred to you that he’d have normal human urges. He was still lapping at your cunt, even as your eyes locked with his own, even darker in the barely lit room you realized was his own. You were in his bed, with his head buried between your legs, and his eyes locked on you.

“Fei!” A weaker orgasm than the first was torn from you as you came again, sensitivity skyrocketing when he still continued to lick and suck on your clit. The room was spinning slightly, and your naked body began to cool a little as you sweat. He’d stripped you. He must’ve, but things weren’t really connecting in your mind as white hot pleasure was turning mildly painful.

“Too much!” You gasped and you had to force your hands to stay tangled in the sheet to not touch him. Your eyes watered and you made a pitiful sight with your darkening cheeks and open panting mouth. As your back arched to avoid his mouth, a sharp slap to your outer thigh had you yelping in pain.

His eyes narrowed, and it wasn’t hard to see he became annoyed with your squirming.

“Shut up.” His tone was low, no room for arguing or protest as you bit your lip to do as you were told. Trembling under him as he raised up to stare down at you between your spread legs. He looked gorgeous, something you hated to admit. His dark hair mildly tussled and pale skin a little flushed, his signature jacket gone. This wasn’t the first you’d seen his naked chest, but it was certainly a rare occasion. His pants were still on but unbuttoned. His lips were the most sinful aspect, still glossy from your release. It was agonizing to be silent.

You should cry and beg for him to stop.

Instead you found your legs spreading just a bit wider as you looked up at him like he was your personal deity.

Debauched.

His slow and condescending smirk only made your breathing harder, chest tightening with anticipation and lust. He snorted, hand moving to spread your cunt open as he spit on it. You were panting now, barely following his order to stay quiet. It was difficult when you wanted to beg, for more, for him, to be touched.

“This what you wanted? Whore.” His crude words didn’t make this any less arousing, especially as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock free. He was larger than you’d have ever expected, though it hardly mattered as he lined himself up and began pushing into your unused hole. Despite the wetness and prep, it was slightly painful as he filled you. The heaviness inside coupled with the burn was delicious as your hips moved to take more of him, deeper. You couldn’t help the moan, the way your body shook and hands finally moved to touch him.

He was fast in securing both your wrists in one hand to pin above your head, his hips finally kissing the back of your thighs. You felt him twitch inside you, and it drove you wild.

“Please Fei, oh-!” His hand came down on your thigh again, before he pulled his hips back and slammed into you. Your head goes back as you arch into him and moan louder, as he begins a brutal pace that has your chest moving in rhythm with his thrusts. His tip kissing your cervix has you unwinding into a submissive mess of whining and pleas. You didn’t even know what you were begging for.

You either annoyed or aroused him further when he sneered and used his free hand to grip your jaw, thankfully not roughly as it ached nonetheless, forcing you to open wide before spitting into your mouth. He laughed when you clenched down harder, feeling the coil in your stomach tightening again as the pleasure increased.

“Pretty slut likes being my bitch.” He hardly seemed out of breath despite how hard you were panting. You felt a bit unfair at how unfazed he seemed, but similarly proud at how he gazed down at you. Like you made him pleased. His gaze wasn’t sharp, even bordering on warm despite how roughly he was fucking into you. All you could do was moan his name and beg.

Like a good little pet.

You could feel your orgasm coming again, and you’d meant to tell him, but his lips against yours shocked you silly. You didn’t even bother closing your mouth, Feitan easily slipping his tongue inside and kissing you so sensually it had you coming on his cock. You could only whine into his mouth as his speed picked up and you became overwhelmed.

He pulled away as a string of saliva connected you two for a moment before breaking. He licked his lips before focusing on where the two of you were joined. Watching his cock disappear in your sopping wet little cunt. It was filthy and erotic.

“Pathetic” his words were cruel but he looked beyond pleased as he looked at your fucked out expression. Unable to even form words as he continued to bully your poor pussy. It was laughable to him, how sweet you are now, how obedient and submissive you’ve finally become. All that fight and control gone, and in its place you lay now.

He’d never tell you out loud how perfect you are. How absolutely precious he finds your attempts to run away from all the pleasure he’s giving you.

His training has been worth while, making you everything he wants and more. Though he’d hated the power you held over him, having you now, moaning as he drills your cunt and begging for more, takes away the shame. You were his weren’t you? Then anything he wanted to do was fine, it wasn’t shameful to fuck his toy. Especially when she whined and arched her back up to take him in even deeper, when she cried and came again around him.

Feitan saw you as much more than a measly pet. Those were replaceable. No, you were just his, whatever he wants you to be, but still his. That’s why when he wraps his hand around your pretty neck and squeezes, he’s beyond thrilled at how you relax. You throw caution to the wind and give him everything. He’s not cutting off oxygen, but enough blood flow and air to keep you light headed and disoriented.

“Who do you belong to?” He knows you can hardly tell up from down right now. He knows how good he’s fucking you. Reducing you to this beautiful mess of feeling only. He’s still him though, and it brings him only pleasure to add in another few painful smacks to your bruising thighs. “Answer slut” he asks again, being thrown for a power trip as you choke out, “You!” to him.

His balls tightening signal he’s close, and the thought alone is enough to amuse him.

“Going to cum inside.” His words don’t register immediately to you, he can tell, but it seems all reality isn’t gone from you when your eyes widen.

“I-I- pregnant! I’ll get-“ he cuts you off with a chuckle, hand squeezing your throat enough to shut you up as he savors the sounds of wet squelching echoing in tune with his thrusts.

��My personal cock sleeve doesn’t get to talk.” The struggle you put up is worthless, but entertaining as he really does cum inside you, a soft grunt his only indication of release and overwhelming pleasure. Emptying himself inside and filling you with him. Marking you, painting you inside, signally you belong to him in every way now.

You lay exhausted and sore in his bed, cold as the various liquids dry on your skin and Feitan leaves.

Where he goes it doesn’t matter. You let yourself lay for a little longer before deciding it’s best not to anger him by staying in his space. You move to sit up, wincing as your intimate areas ache, but pushing forward nonetheless to get cleaned up and change his sheets and any mess left behind.

You hate the hollow ache in your chest the most. You look at your thighs to see his cum leaking out of you, and a sliver of dread echoes in your mind that you truly could become pregnant. The possibilities too much for you to handle right now, as you shakily slide off the bed to stand on wobbly legs. He could be back any moment, and it’s best you get to work early. You work on removing the sheets, just as the bedroom door opens to reveal a fresh Feitan, his signature jacket in place as he holds a glass of water.

“What are you doing?” His question is asked in a slightly lower tone that usual, and you quickly freeze in place.

“I-I’m cleaning up…?” You don’t mean to sound hesitant, but this situation is new and will require months of careful inquisition to avoid punishment under his hand. You knew better than to continue any task without his go ahead though.

You stand in silence as he observes you with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Come here” his order is curt, and while it terrifies you, you are quick to stumble over to him despite still being naked and filthy. You hate how badly you must look, barely able to walk while he is up and about his usual day as if nothing even happened. To him maybe nothing did happen, this being just the same as making a sandwich, and you wished the thought didn’t hurt. Maybe this would just be a new pain to live with, and the sooner you accepted that, the better your pathetic existence would be.

You stand just before him, fingers twisting around each other as you stay with your head bowed to stare at his feet while you concentrated on staying upright despite how difficult it felt for your hips and legs to support you.

“Not hard enough?” His words confused you, as you peaked up beneath your lashes to look at him curiously.

“I-I don’t understand…”

“Didn’t fuck you hard enough?” You froze in shock and slight fear, because what did that mean? He fucked you too hard in your personal opinion, and your poor slit agreed.

“Y-you did though…?” You were unsure of what was happening, his gaze not giving anything away.

“Get back on the bed. I didn’t say I was done with you.” Your eyes widened, taking a moment too long to register what he said before his foot took a step closer to you and you scrambled back onto the sheet-less bed in a panic. He paused, observing you again, before tilting his head.

“Next time I’m done with you, don’t move” he’s undoing his pants again, and moving towards you.

“I’ll fuck you good this time.” His words menacing and mean, and you’re left with little wiggle room as he closes in.

It’s his job after all to clean you up and piece you back together, and if you can fix yourself when he’s done, he clearly didn’t a good job the first round.

#HxH #18+ please #Hunter x Hunter #Feitan Porter #Feitan x reader #mdni #Feitan smut #Feitan fic #not edited sorry not sorry #soft! Feitan #yandere Feitan #Yan! Feitan #Phantom Troupe #Yandere Phantom Troupe

[love-me-satoru]

Not the thought of yandere!Boyfriend that would tie up some random guy that was flirting with you and then fuck you in front of them.Them squirming against the ropes watching your tear filled eyes. Loud moans and your boyfriends fat fucking cock pushing into you at a brutal pace. Their cock straining against their jeans. “Look baby he’s hard.” You couldn’t process your boyfriends words until his hand wrapped around your throat Pulling you flushed against his front. “I said look slut.” your eyes glancing back at the man tied to the chair. “Good girl.. Now cum for me baby. Show him what he’ll never get.”

#yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere bnha #yandere jjk #yandere satoru gojo #yandere shiggy #yandere mha #yandere light #yandere suguru geto #armin smut #connie smut #eren jeager smut #attack on titan smut #levi smut #hxh smut #death note smut #smutty smut smut #kakashi smut #aki smut #feitan smut #gojo satoru smut #kyojuro rengoku smut #solo leveling jinwoo smut #kpop smut

[hoejosatoru]

Well Trained

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Feitan, Fem!Reader x Chrollo (separately)

Summary: Chrollo is a particular man, with particular taste. Though he loves everything about you, he has yet to see how you preform in bed. He fears that if you disappoint him, it will ruin everything that you’ve built together. Luckily, he knows someone who can teach you to behave exactly how he likes.

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: Dub con that borders on noncon at times. If you’re sensitive to that at all I would skip this one, toxic relationship dynamic, manipulation, face slapping, choking, scratching, rough sex, degradation, praise, Feitan is mean but we know that, Dom Chrollo, calls you good girl a lot, body marking, oral (fem receiving), raw sex, cream pie, not proof read. MDNI

a/n: So I’ve had this idea in my head FOREVER because I want both Chrollo and feitan badly. Writing this concept out was lowkey kicking my ass though. I think I ended up pulling it together, but I hope y’all enjoy.

Dating Chrollo was a dream come true. He was everything you ever wanted in a man: intelligent, attentive, and sweet. Not to mention so handsome. He treated you like a princess and you loved it. Everything was perfect.

Well, almost everything.

You’d been dating for a couple months and you hadn’t had sex yet. At first you thought he wasn’t that into you, but when he kept coming back for more dates you knew that couldn’t be the case. You wondered if he was a wait till marriage type, or was shy in some way. You respected the boundary, despite wanting to sleep with him so bad. If he needed more time, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but it was starting to worry you. 

Little did you know, Chrollo wanted to sleep with you just as badly. Maybe even more so. He was very picky with who he slept with, hence this long period of courting. However, the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he had genuine feelings for you. He has had some relationships in the past, but he always knew they would not be very longterm. You, however, he felt was someone he could see himself with forever. 

This revelation made him want to make sure everything was perfect. He liked women with experience, who knew what they were doing and how to please him. However, he hated having to put the work in to get his partners there himself. Luckily, he knew someone who was a very effective teacher.

“My love,” Chrollo spoke over his wine, “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

He smiled at your eagerness. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks colored at the blatant question. Chrollo loved how demure you were. “Y-yes, I do. A lot, actually.”

“Good,” Chrollo replied, taking a sip of his deep burgundy drink, “I have wanted to for some time now, but there is something I need you to do first.”

Your brows knitted. “What is that?”

“I’m a very... particular person. As I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Chrollo explained, “And I want to make sure everything is just right.”

Your heart dropped a little bit. “Am... Am I not good enough for you?”

Chrollo shook his head and placed a hand over yours, comforting your nerves. “Not at all, my love. Quite the opposite actually. I love you so much that I don’t want anything to get in the way of our relationship.”

You nodded, feeling slightly relieved. “What is it? What do you want me to do?”

Chrollo thought about what the best way to explain it was. “I have a friend. He can teach you what I like, much better than I can.” He say the confused look on your face and continued. “You trust me, don’t you y/n?”

“Yes, of course,” you replied instantly. And it was true.

“I know it is an request,” Chrollo went on, “But it is important to me. Everything about you is so perfect. This will simply make sure it stays that way.” He kissed your hand, making your stomach fill with butterflies. “I want you in my life forever. Will you do this for me, my love?”

The way he looked at you and spoke to you made your body feel weak in the best way. The answer was easy for you. “Yes, of course.”

A smile spread across his face. “Excellent.”

A few days later you found yourself in a building outside of the city. It was a bit dumpy on the outside, but the inside was furnished nicely. You were aware that Chrollo engaged in a very secretive business and decided awhile ago not to ask. You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to. It didn’t matter, anyways, you loved him. And he loved that about you. 

Chrollo led you into a bedroom, occupied by one other man. You felt a pang of anxiety, not fully knowing what Chrollo meant by being taught what he liked.

“Y/n, this is my friend Feitan,” Chrollo introduced you to smaller man standing before you. The way his cold eyes appraised you sent a shiver down your spine.   You said a polite hello, but he was silent. Chrollo continued, “Feitan is on the quiet side, but I trust him completely. He is going to show you what I want.”

Your stomach rolled anxiously. “Wh-what does that mean, exactly?”

Chrollo gave you an almost sympathetic look. “I don’t want to lie to you, my love. I want you to have sex with Feitan. He’s going to... mold you into the exact type of lover I like.” 

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Chrollo was a bit possessive, even early on in your relationship, so you couldn’t believe he was telling you to have sex with another man. Your eyes flicked over to Feitan, his aura making you nervous. “Chrollo I don’t-”

Chrollo gently took your jaw in his hands and turned your face back to his. “I thought you trusted me, love?”

“I do, I ju-”

“It will be okay, I promise. This will make our relationship stronger. Everything will be perfect. You want that, don’t you? You love me, don’t you?” He was so close to you, speaking so softly it made you dizzy. You almost forgot Feitan was there and what this situation was for. You never understood the effect Chrollo had on you, just that it was very strong.

“I do, I love you so much,” you replied. 

“If that is true, you’ll do this,” Chrollo replied sweetly, “And I know you will, because I know you love me.”

You nodded. You were nervous, of course, but you couldn’t say to him. “I will, I promise.”

Chrollo smiled. “My good girl.” He kissed your forehead. “Now go sit on the bed, I need to talk to Feitan quickly.” You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the bed as the two men stepped out side and spoke in hushed tones.

“What rules boss?” Feitan asked.

“Get her how I like them. You know the way,” Chrollo replied, “Do whatever you need to. Choke her or hit her if you need to. Just nothing that will leave a mark, especially not on her face. And don’t cum inside her, that is for me only.”

Feitan nodded. “Understood.” 

With that, the smaller man slipped back inside the room. Your anxiety spiked being alone with him. He pulled his jacket down, revealing his full face. He actually quite handsome, almost similar to Chrollo. He, however, looked more cold and harsh than your boyfriend did.  He was silent as he approached you, appraising your body language. He could tell you were nervous, which excited him.

“Take clothes off,” he stated. With you on the bed and him standing he was able to look down on you.

“I don’t-”

Before you could finish your sentence he gripped your jaw. “It not a request.” You nodded, shaking. He was not someone you wanted to challenged. You slowly took off your shirt, then your pants. You reluctantly went for your bra, but he grabbed your arm. “I do that. You undress me now.”

You nodded, your voice still feeling lodged in your throat. You were just happy to have the focus be on something other than you. You stripped off his jacket, shirt and pants, leaving him in his underwear. “Good,” he said before climbing on top of you. 

Your body instinctively shrunk away from him, which made him scowl. “You treat me like Chrollo. You would not hide from him.” He place his hands on your shoulders, pressing your body into a more relaxed position on the mattress. 

“I’m sorry I- this is just hard for me,” you admitted.

“If you listen it will be easy,” he replied. He placed a kiss to the center of you check. “Chrollo will mark you here.” He kissed the top of your breast that your bra didn’t cover. “And here.” He kissed your neck. “And here. And you’ll let him.” 

“O-okay,” you replied. 

“Now we kiss.” He pressed his lips to yours, which were warmer than you thought they were going to be. Still, you felt you couldn’t kiss him back, your lips feeling glued shut. Feitan’s hand wrapped around your neck, making you gasp. Feitan laughed, licking into your mouth. “If you kiss Chrollo like that, he won’t like.” Feitan tightened his hand around your throat, choking you slightly. 

You kept your eyes closed and tried to pretend you were kissing Chrollo. It was hard at first, especially with Feitan tightening his hand more. “Do better.” Eventually you were able to get into a rhythm; you knew you were doing it right when Feitan loosened his grip. 

His grip loosening, however, meant dipping lower to your chest. He squeezed at your boobs over your bra for a moment, before taking it off. You couldn’t help yourself, you moved to cover yourself. Feitan, of course did not allow it. He gripped your arms and pinned them above your head, tsking. “You are slow learner.” 

Feitan kissed and licked at your breasts and neck. He was very careful not pay attention to too much on one spot, as he did not want to leave a mark. Feitan took any job Chrollo gave him seriously, but especially this one. He knew how much trust Chrollo had to have in him to allow him do this. He would never break the trust, but he would make sure the job was well done. By any means necessary. 

“If I release your hands, you will listen?” Feitan questioned.

“Yes,” you replied, still with a shake in your voice. 

Feitan did as he said he would. “Put them in my hair. Gentle. Chrollo like that.” You slid your hands into his dark locks, running your fingers through them softly. Feitan went back to kissing you as you did this. He smacked you bare thigh when your lips got too stiff again. You yelped, but continued to kiss him like he wanted. Like Chrollo wanted, you reminded yourself. this was for him.

His hand slid down your body, between your thighs. Your legs shut, making him slap your thigh again and roughly pry them open. “Stop fighting.” He ran his hand over your clothed cunt. You focused on kissing him and running your hands through his hair as he touched you. His rubbed your clit through the fabric. You were surprised how it made your stomach curl, how it felt... good. 

It made it a little easier to kiss him and touch him. You let your hands wander a little further down his back, making him hum in approval. You gasped when his finger slipped inside you, but recovered quickly. Feitan curled his finger into a spot that made your breath go ragged. He pumped his fingers faster, your cunt getting wetter by the minute. Your brain was a confused mess. On one hand it was weird to be touched by this stranger, on the other it did feel good. 

Feitan slid in a second finger and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. Feitan gripped your jaw. “Don’t be quiet. He’ll wanna hear.” Feitan scissored your his fingers inside you, stretching you out. This time you let a moan slip from your lips. “Good.” He pulled his fingers out of you and put them in front of your lips. “Now suck.”

You took in his fingers, sucking at them. “More.” He shoved them deeper in your mouth, making you gag a little. You tried to correct yourself quickly, letting your tongue roll up and down the length of them, tasting yourself. Feitan yanked your underwear off and it took everything in you not to hide yourself. You felt so exposed under his gaze. 

As he stripped off his underwear and climbed on top of you, the reality of what was about to happen set in and you started to panic. “No!” you cried trying to close your legs. It was no use, Feitan was so much stronger than you. He dug his nails into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you wince.

“You obey, not fight,” Feitan growled, bullying his way between your legs. You brought your hands up and start smacking his chest and shoving him away. A sudden, swift slap to your face stunned you into stillness. Your face stung as he gave you a look that struck fear into you. He gripped your jaw achingly tight and got in your face. “Chrollo never love you like this. He want girl who behave. Who listens.”

“But-” He dug his nails into your thigh more, making you yelp.

“And you never say no to Chrollo,” he practically spat. He released his grip on you, but his gaze kept you pinned in place. “You going to behave now? Or do I tell Chrollo you don’t love him enough.”

You gulped. “P-please don’t.”

“Then shut up and take it,” he replied, flipping you in your stomach. “You can’t be trusted on back.” He took both go your hands in one of his, holding them to your lower back, effectively making you immobile. You felt the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, covering himself in your slick. He gave you no warning when he pressed into you, making you gasp. 

Despite his smaller stature, his cock stretched your cunt. You whined as he thrust into you, not giving you any time to adjust. A slap came down on your ass. “Arch back more.” His free hand went down the length of your spine, putting you into place. The new position allowed him to get deeper inside you, hitting a spot that made you see stars. “Feels better for him. And you.” He was right, it felt so good. Your pussy throbbed with each brush of his cock at that sweet spot.

When you bit your lip to stifle a moan, you earned another sharp slap to your ass. You opened your mouth to cry out in pain, but it turned into a damn near pornographic moan as Feitan pounded you through it. “Like that. Let me hear.” 

He continued to pound into you rough and hard. You knew you should hate it, that it shouldn’t feel so good, but god it did. You weren’t even faking your moans, they were all real reflections of the pleasure he gave you. Just when you thought it couldn't get more intense, his free hand snaked around to play with your clit.

“Fuck Feitan!” you cried out. You were on the precipice of an orgasm when he pulled his hand away, making you whine.

“You want to cum? Beg.”

“Please!” Another hard slap on your ass.

“Better than that.”

You begged, desperately, “Please Feitan! Please! Let me cum. I need to!”

“Good.” His hand was back on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “Now cum.” Your body responded immediately, tensing then melting into a deep, euphoric state. You were sure to moan loudly, to show him just how good it felt. You have heard him say good again, but your mind was too foggy to be sure. All you know is that he didn’t slap you again, so you must be doing something right.

Feitan pulled out of you quickly, spilling his cum on your ass and back with a low groan. He very much enjoyed when Chrollo gave him jobs like this. “Chrollo will cum inside. And you let him.” You nodded, feeling hazy and spent. Your body collapsed on to the bed as Feitan got up. He tossed a towel at you and told you to clean yourself up. You did your best to wipe his release off yourself as he dressed and disappeared out of the room. 

You were just finished dressing when the door opened again. This time it was your boyfriend. “Chrollo!” you cried out with relief. You ran to him, hugging him tightly. He chuckled lightly; you played right into his plan. He knew Feitan would be rough with you and knew that would make you love his gentleness towards you even more. It was just another way to manipulate you into believing he was a good guy, to make you desperate for his approval.

“My sweet girl,” he hummed rubbing your head. “Feitan said you did good. Just a few more lessons and you’ll be perfect. I'm so proud of you, angel.”

You sniffled. “Really?”

“Of course,” Chrollo replied, giving you a chaste kiss. “I know you must really love me to do this. It makes me so happy. I hope you know I love you, too. All of the is for us, for out relationship.”

Maybe if you weren’t in such as haze you’d realize how ridiculous this all was. Or if you weren't s enamored with him. But both of those things blinded you. “I do love you! I know you love me too. I’ll do anything, I’ll learn fast. I promise.” 

You returned to Feitan’s bed handful of more times over the next few weeks. He taught you to be the perfect lover for Chrollo, someone who submits fully and is eager to please. Overtime you found the lessons to be easier, even enjoyable. Well, maybe that was too strong of a word, but they were pleasurable. Feitan wasn’t gentle with you, but the more you learned and complied, the less he hit or was unnecessarily rough. You couldn’t deny that Feitan knew what he was doing.

Your favorite part, however, was how Chrollo treated you after. You lived for the praise he showered you with, how he kissed and held you. You never once doubted that he loved you, despite handing you over to Feitan. Your hard work paid off when Feitan finally told Chrollo you were ready.

You were a mix of nervous excitement as Chrollo led you to his bedroom. The two of you went out to dinner to celebrate and now it was time to show him you could be the perfect girl for him. You knew Feitan taught you well, but you couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

Chrollo’s lips found yours as you settled into the bed. Your lips moved against his with ease. You parted your mouth slightly, allowing your tongues to swirl together.

“Take your clothes off, my love,” Chrollo whispered in your ear.

“Yes sir,” you replied. You slid out go your dress, letting him admire the lingerie he bought for the occasion.

“All off.”

“Yes sir.”

Your cheeks flushed as you removed the final article of clothings covering you. Chrollo’s gaze was definitely softer than Feitan’s, but it still made your stomach flutter with nerves. You kept a brave face, letting him look without covering anything.

Chrollo smiled. “So beautiful,” he crawled on top of you, kissing your breasts. “My beautiful girl.” He sucked at the skin, in a way that would definitely leave a mark. “And all mine.” He continued kissing, sucking, licking up your chest and neck. You slid your hands through his hair, pressing your body into his touch. Chrollo hummed approvingly. “I allowed Feitan to touch you, but you’re mine. Everyone will know it. You want that right, baby? To be mine?”

“Yes!” you practically cried out as he sucked on a sensitive part of your neck. “’M all yours. Only yours.”

“Good girl,” he purred. He kissed you again as his hand traveled down you body. You slid your thighs open, allowing him access to your throbbing cunt. His fingers slid through you, letting your arousal coat them. “Soaked for me already? Didn’t realize you were so desperate for me.”

“Need you so b-oh,” your sentence died off in a moan as he pressed a finger inside you.

“What's that? I didn’t hear you,” Chrollo mused, pumping his fingers in you. He curled his finger against your sensitive spot, which had you mewling. 

“N-need you so bad!” you cried. His thumb made contact with your clit, making your body jolt. Your thighs instinctively wanted to close from the pleasure, but you kept them open, as you knew he wanted.

“Think I wanna taste this pretty pussy. Would you like that, y/n? What my mouth on your cunt?” Chrollo asked, toying with your pussy.

“Yes sir! Want it, want whatever you want,” you replied breathlessly. 

Chrollo smiled, loving your desperation, how it was clear you would let him do anything he wanted. He laid between your legs, licking a stripe up your pussy. “Mmm, so sweet.” He went straight to your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. You didn’t stifle your moans at all. Your hands slid through his hair again, running your nails along the scalp. Chrollo let his tongue tease your hole, while his finger took over at your clit. You rolled your hips into him, grinding your pussy against his face just as Feitan told you to. 

Chrollo’s tongue and fingers switched places. He fucked you with his fingers more intensely, giving your pussy a nice stretch.

“P-please, can I cum?” you questioned, trying to desperately to hold on. You did not want to cum before you were allowed. That was a big no.

Chrollo smiled. “Because you asked so nicely.” Your body responded immediately, releasing on his face. Your cried out his name as his tongue flicked your clit through your orgasm. Feitan had made you feel good, but Chrollo made you feel amazing. You knew your love for him made it so much better.

Chrollo sat up, appraising your body. He loved the power of you being naked and him being dressed.  He loved that he could already see bruises forming on your neck. How you already looked fucked out from just his tongue. How you were looking up at him, desperate for more, but waiting for him to tell you what to do. He made a mental note to thank Feitan again.

“Undress me.” 

You complied immediately. “Yes, sir.” Your body was weak from your orgasm, your hands shaking. Chrollo was amused by how your were so desperate for him that you struggled with he buttons on his shirt. You planted kisses down his body as you removed his clothing, another lesson from Feitan. When he was finally naked, you sat back and waited for his instruction.

Chrollo climbed back on top of you and you parted your legs for him dutifully. He teased his type at your hole. “Beg for it.”

“Please Chrollo! Want you so bad,” You begged, “Need you. Only you. Please let me make you feel good!”

Chrollo made a noise of approval. “Such a good girl for me.” He slid his cock into you, making you gasp. He was definitely a little bigger than Feitan, giving you a stretch. He pushed himself in slower than Feitan did, but didn’t give you much time to adjust. He rolled his hips against your yours, his paces quickly increasing. 

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. His thumb brushed against your lower lip. You parted your lips, allowing him to slip the digit in. You sucked on it, keeping your eyes on his. You could feel Chrollo’s cock throb, egging you on. You began rolling your hips up to meet his, just like Feitan taught you. 

“Fuck, I love you angel,” Chrollo groaned, “Knew you’d be my perfect girl.” He slipped his thumb out of your mouth, but kept his hand wrapped around your throat. You moaned, despite his grip getting tighter around you. That combined with him pounding into your pussy made you teeter close to edge.

“Chrollo I-nngh ‘m close,” you gasped. “Please can I cum?”

Chrollo dipped in to kiss you before responded, “Yes baby. Cum on my cock.” Your head lolled back as your second orgasm flooded your body. His name slipped from your lips in a desperate moan as the pleasure had you seeing stars. Chrollo fucked you through it, your spasming walls eventually pushing him over the edge. He moaned your name - the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard - filling your pussy with his warm release. His final way to fully claim you as his. 

He didn’t pull out even when you both finished, leaning in to kiss you more. “I love you so much, you were so perfect,” he praised between kiss. “And now you’re mine. Forever.” 

#I didn't know how to end it #so slay #hope you enjoyed #bc this was hard to write for some reason #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #chrollo smut #chrollo hcs #chrollo x y/n #feitan smut #feitan x reader #feitan hc #feitan headcanons #hxh x reader #hxh smut #hxh headcanons

[bwabys-scenarios]

Hi bwaby ~ I’m new to your page and I love your yandere posts ^^ I’m reading the ones you’ve written for Kurapika. I saw your requests were open.

How do you think hxh yanderes would respond to their captive s/o having a panic/anxiety attacks when their captor tries to get intimate? How would they go about that?

🖤 ur work 🖤🖤🖤 thnx

Yandere!HXH respond to you panicking during intimacy

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: dubcon, panic attack, bad aftercare, forced cuddling, slight manipulation/coercion with Chrollo(it backfires), vomit in Chrollo’s, Feitan is emotionally distant, Kurapika is unstable

A/N: just a little note that none of my yanderes will ever rape the reader. I just include dubious consent because being captive blurs the lines of consent. Can you really consent when you’re captive? I don’t know, so I include it just in case, even though in my eyes reader is always consenting during these acts. I’m not comfortable with writing out rape, so this situation is the farthest I go.

characters included: Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Feitan, Illumi

Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @pannacottababy

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Kurapika

First of all, Kurapika is VERY hesitant to initiate any intimacy after he takes you away. He wants you to get used to your captivity before he starts anything.

Kurapika is also the only yandere on this list that won’t be overly pushy in terms of physical contact most if the time, and honestly he’s okay if you never love him again… even if he really wants you to love him and give him lots of affection. He knows he did something unforgivable by taking you away from your life, and he’s willing to be hated by you if it means you’ll be safe.

Now, when you do eventually initiate some kind of intimacy he is over the moon. He would do anything for you, desperate to please you and make the experience as good as possible. Kurapika wants your love, your physical touch, and he wants it willingly.

So when he initiates, kissing along your neck with his hand gently rubbing your clothed cunt, he stops immediately when you start to panic. “My angel? Are you okay?”

He’s quick to pull away and give you space. His hands shake and he feels guilt and panic rise in his own chest. Did he just ruin all of the progress the two of you had?

But you calm down after a little, and lean against him. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I got really anxious.”

He’s quick to wrap his arms around you, tentatively smoothing out your hair. “Don’t apologize… shh, just relax. We don’t have to do anything.”

Kurapika spends the rest of the night just a bit unstable, terrified that he’ll do something to upset you. He just loves you so much and he doesn’t want to lose your love and affection when he just got it back. The next day he makes sure to pamper you more than usual, and he’s almost a bit clingy… as if he’s scared he’ll lose you.

Leorio

He’s pretty handsy, though most of his touches are just affectionate in nature. When you cuddle, he has his hand in your ass or thigh, kneading at the soft flesh.

Leorio likes to have you in his lap as often as possible, where he can move you as he pleases as cover you in kisses as he holds you as close as possible.

He’s eager to get back to sex after he takes you, though he won’t push… too much. Leorio is just super clingy and you’re already sitting pretty on his lap, the only thing separating you from his is that pretty skirt you’re wearing!

It was a normal day, with you sitting in his lap after he tugged you his way. But this time, instead of the usual soft squish he’d give your thigh or kisses to your cheek or the top of your head, Leorio started moving you back and forth against the bulge firming in his pants.

You instantly froze, feeling his warm breath on your neck. When you began to panic and cry, Leorio paused for a moment. “Princess? Something wrong?”

When you started to struggle, he gently set you down. The air was thick and heavy with tension and awkward energy. He scratched the back of his neck, his boner gone. “You alright?”

You shook your head. “I… I don’t want to, Leorio… I’m scared…”

He felt his heart break a little, but he was quick to reach out and gently ruffle your hair. “Don’t be scared… I won’t… do anything to you that you don’t want…”

But it felt a bit hypocritical, considering he did steal you from your old life against your will. Leorio had standards though, and one of those was not assaulting people.

That night, he was way less clingy than usual, giving you some space and time to process things… but you joined him in bed for snuggles later.

Chrollo

He kept telling you he wanted to make your first time with him special, that he’d buy you flowers and pretty lingerie to wear. He even suggested getting a nicer hotel than usual, which was shocking because the hotels you usually stayed in with him were beyond luxurious.

So when the special night came, he took you out to a fancy dinner, letting you order whatever you wanted. You had become very complacent, accepting the fact you’d never be able to escape him… not even in death.

So you are your food, and you bathed before putting on the set of lingerie he surely paid a high price for, and sat on the bed, waiting for him to get back from a meeting with some phantom troupe members that were in town.

The wait already had you anxious, but the way he kept going on and on about how perfect he made everything and how much effort he put into this night put a lot of pressure on you to do well.

And that was on purpose. He wanted you to know just how much he had done for you… how much he craved and adored you. With him, you would be endlessly pampered and loved… all you had to do was be a good girl and do as he said.

So by the time he got back, you were already anxiously fidgeting with your lacy black lingerie, biting your lip.

Now… he didn’t want to make you anxious, just a little nervous. He thought it would be cute to see you squeak like a timid little mouse as he took you… he didn’t want you to stiffly lie down and tear up when he unbuttoned his shirt.

And he hadn’t expected you to throw up from the stress of it all.

He felt a bit guilty, you were crying and muttering apologies as he called for room service, trying to clean it up yourself. Had he instilled that much fear in you that you shook in terror at the thought of upsetting you? That’s not what Chrollo wanted… despite his sly and manipulative nature, he wanted you to genuinely love him and see him as someone that protected and took care of you.

So once you calmed down a little, he pulled you in and snuggled you, kissing the top of your head. “I..: apologize. We’ll do this at your pace.”

You couldn’t really break away from his grip… and you didn’t want to anger him, so you let him hold you close and gently rock you.

Feitan

Feitan already is absolute garbage with intimacy, so it’s rare he’ll initiate anything. He’s both insecure and emotionally distant, but also longs for your affection and physical touch.

But he also HATES physical touch… so being his darling is a confusing experience where you’re constantly walking on eggshells.

The rare instances when he tries to be intimate with you, you almost leap with joy. He’s the only other human you have physical contact with, and you’ve almost gone crazy without touch and affection.

He’s very insecure and sensitive to rejection, so when he touches you, even if it’s just subpar, you praise him endlessly with soft whimpers and moans. He’s pretty skilled with his fingers considering he was a virgin before he met you.

So when he’s got his hands on your hips and ready to push his cock into your pretty pussy, instead of the usual happy whines you make… you instead whimper and shy away from him.

He’s tortured many people, so he can recognize the signs of a panic attack easily. You don’t know what came over you, but you just started to break down, crying and rocking yourself.

Feitan froze up, not knowing what to do. He’s not used to comforting others, and he already feels the harsh sting of rejection from your reaction. Was he that bad?

But… he’s able to push that away. He puts a blanket over your naked form and gently rubs your back while looking the other way.

“… don’t have to. Just say when don’t want it.”

And that’s all you get. He doesn’t kiss away your tears or clean you up… but it’s a big step forward. For Feitan, comforting another human being is hard, so the fact he’s trying for you proves that you mean something to him.

#requests open #x reader #anime x reader #tw dubcon #yandere!kurapika #yandere chrollo #yandere leorio #yandere kurapika #yandere hxh #reader insert #headcanon #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #smut requests #hunter x hunter x reader #anime x chubby reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader #fem!reader #female reader #fem reader #kurapika x reader #chrollo imagine #chrollo x reader #leorio x reader #kurapika smut #leorio smut #x reader smut #feitan x reader #yandere feitan

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Feitan Portor NSFW Profile

Yandere! Feitan Portor x fem! reader

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

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

WC: 12K (oh my god)

HABITS:

Even amongst the Troupe, Feitan is particularly emotionally stunted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like you want him. 

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your face

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hands 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DRIVE:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Orgasm Control

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bondage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dry humping

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or else.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Begging

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sensory deprivation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BIGGEST FANTASY:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, and?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere feitan #yandere feitan portor #hxh smut #_lee's profiles #_hxh #_feitan portor

[rotten-pomegranate]

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

©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.

#hunter x hunter #hisoka hxh #hxh #chrollo hxh #goes and snatches hisoka #hisoka #hunter x hunter feitan x reader #shalnark x reader #yandere shalnark #yandere chrollo #yandere hisoka #yandere illumi #yandere phinks #yandere feitan #feitan x reader smut #viral #uvogin #hxh hisoka #hxh chrollo #uvogin x reader #yandere uvogin #writing

[chrollosbiggeststan]

I wanna write give me ideas…

ANY IDEAS PLEASE….. SPAM MY INBOX ALL OF YOU GOOOO!!!!!!

Ps. I wanna Post since I won’t be posting soon.. busy sorry yall🤧😭😭

#chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #hxh #chrollo #phantom troupe #feitan x reader #hxh x reader #feitan portor #hxh chrollo #hxh smut #feitan smut #chrollo smut #shalnark smut #smut #yander feitan #yandere x reader

[aliceattheart]

Pls make request

I love writing, I wish to get better at it. If you do end up requesting please follow the rules. If you have any questions DM me about it before requesting, Thx.

Alsooo, please request by clicking the request button :3

Also I right for Chubby, Bigger gals! As well as POC :]

Character fandoms

One Piece

Most characters

Twisted Wonderland

Everyone but Grim and Ortho

Black Butler

Everyone but the kids :)

Dragon Ball

Everyone but the kids 😼

Hunter x Hunter

Inside Job

Persona 5

Hotel Hazbin I'm no longer taking requests for this >:( I'll open it up later on

Mostly only Alastor

Undertale

Sans

Twilight

Jacob

Creepy Pasta

Anyone basically but the children or the animals

Villainous

Everyone

Osomatsu

Everyone

John Doe 🤭

This is self explanatory

Just ask me for another fandom and I'll try my hardest to make a story, if I can't my fault lmao.

Things I'll write

Angst

Yandere

Dark themed

Kidnap

Slight gore

One shots

Semi stories

NSFW

Stuff I will write for

Mostly anything that isn't on the bottom list

I do not write for are

Scat

Watersports

Incest

Vore

Heavy Age play

Pedophilia

Knife play

Threesome / Party play (sorry, I don't think I can write for this)

Beastiality

Probably will edit this later

Thxs for reading and please make request! I'll make it worth your wild 😼🤭

#hxh #john doe x reader smut #andre lee x reader smut #twisted wonderland x reader #illumi hunter x hunter #idia shroud x reader #illumi x you #yandere feitan x reader #illumi zoldyck #fandom #osomatsu san #hazbin hotel #dragon ball #beginner artist #please please please #free request #i love writing #gore lover #dark academia #dark themes #do not eat #dead dove do not eat #john doe game #hunter x hunter #yandere #twisted wonderland #open requests #18+ content #one piece smut #chubby reader

[tht0nesimp]

Yan!feitan X drugged!reader

TW: sedatives, DDLG vibes, possible non-con, torture, body mods

He loved looking at those glassed over eyes, no thoughts in your brain, Just trying to piece together basic information took you 10 minutes let alone trying to things like cooking, drawing, other hobbies became mainly obsolete unless they were exactly layed out for you by someone

Sometimes others would come in his house, a pink haired woman along with a long haired fellow most often. He had a couple times when it was all of the troupe but quite rare considering he generally had work in the basement that would interrupt their meetings lest it be you or one of his victims

You always seemed to rot his teeth down to the core, he didnt know if he was mad or happy that there was someone out there who could make him feel emotion, care, in specific

He was even just a tiny bit scared that he would have to shed his grinch exterior for someone like you. You were mundane, boring, and had a boring life just like most people in this dog-eat-dog world he was living in

But he craved you speaking, existing, doing anything just so long as it was you doing it. He wasted no time swooping you away from your loved ones and into his abode

He is the only one for you, whether you know that or not is irrelevant

#yandere feitan #yandere Hunter X hunter #yan! hxh #yandere male #yandere oneshot #yandere phantom troupe #ThT0neSimP #fandom #GN reader #No smut #sfw #feitan is creepy #CandiesActualFics

[shalscumbunny]

For what reasons would members of the Gen'ei Ryodan impregnate their S/O?

TW: Mentions of forced relationship, forced pregnancy, gestation, breeding kink, body changes, parenthood, children, possible threat to children

Phinks:

It is the type of couple that is extremely overprotective, at the same time that it is extremely dominant, there is no better way of dominance than to impregnate your beloved, leave her plump and unable to do anything, so that she does not do anything stupid, nothing bad happens to her and there is no doubt that he is your absolute owner because you are carrying HIS child, and the idea of fucking you pregnant isn't something he's going to refuse either, he likes the idea, I'll just say that and of course he will love his child, I feel that he is the type of man to whom being a father comes naturally.

Feitan:

I don't feel that Feitan understands that concept of "family" and "parenting" and he doesn't care much either and if you're not very interested in the subject, pregnacy is not something that is going to happen, BUT, if we go to his sickest and most twisted side, especially the sadistic one and mixing it with a yandere or quite sick theme, if he sees that the idea of getting pregnant from him terrifies you as he is your captor, he is going to impregnate you with desire and on purpose, just to fuck you, torture you and well, in the process he will mark territory, by fucking you he will torture with the idea, if he achieves his goal now he only has the same thing left, making you feel bad, making you feel guilty, but he will probably still take care of you since in the end you are valuable to him.

Uvogin:

He barely fell in love with you, he knew that you were going to be the mother of his 78 children, Uvogin is the stereotype of a man who wants to get you pregnant 24/7, it won't even be two months after you have given birth before you are already pregnant again, he simply likes it because it is a way to keep you by his side, dominate you and take ownership of you. He has a fairly activated reproductive instinct due to his barbaric and somewhat animal nature. He's excited about getting you pregnant, he's excited about having you pregnant, he's excited about being able to fuck you when you're swollen with his babies. Added to that he may be a horrible person, a thief, a murderer and many other things, but it comes naturally to him to be a father, he loves his children, all of them.

Nobunaga:

The truth is that I feel that Nobunaga is one of these characters with the authentic desire to one day have children, he likes the idea of ​​raising little swordsmen who run from one place to another simulating an epic and legendary duel and there is no better way to join the love of your life than forming a family (That's what he thinks) It doesn't matter much if you agree, it will still happen.

He is going to get you pregnant, he is going to take care of you and he will do everything humanly possible to be with you, of course I also emphasize that probably doing it with you even if you are pregnant, it is quite exciting for him.

Franklin:

I wouldn't know how to interpret him very well in fact, I feel that he is not someone who is dying to be a father but he also does not hate the idea and if you ask him he will listen to you, he will take great care of you and his little ones. (I DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT FRANKLIN, FORGIVE ME FRANKLIN FANS!)

Illumi:

The same as with Uvogin, but somewhat different. He would say that he has a fairly marked kink breeding because in his family he has seen it as common and necessary to have many children (he literally has 4 siblings). When he fell in love with you the next thing in his brain was to imagine the family he would have with you as soon as possible. Once you are together (Whether by marriage or kidnapping) Illumi will probably have locked himself in the room with you until he makes sure that you are pregnant, Illumi never shows his emotions, but when he is fucking you and has you tightly grabbed, his body trembles of the emotion and excitement of being able to get you pregnant. Once you are very pregnant and swollen, he won't stop fucking you either (As long as your child is safe), he can simply become more obsessed with you now that you are carrying his baby. If everything goes well, I estimate at least 7 pregnancies, furthermore, all these pregnancies are going to be followed, as soon as you give birth, it will be a matter of time before he impregnates you again.

Hisoka:

I don't find any logical reason, he likes the idea of ​​having a partner, but not forming a "family." The only reason I can find is that in his moments of madness and revenge.

Especially if he has already left the Gen'ei Ryodan and wants revenge, if you are a partner of one of them, he will impregnate you with hatred and desire but only for revenge.

Shalnark:

I think we have already talked about this in this profile multiple times but we will do it again.

Shalnark doesn't want kids, he hates kids, he hates kids grabbing his things, he hates not being the focus of your attention and everything related to pregnancy and having kids.

BUT

It is an idea that he can consider in the same way, if he consider that you have problems in the relationship, he will consider an alternative to soften you and tie you down.

In other situation, if you mention it to him, obviously you have to beg him if you are the one who wants to have children, but if you are convincing, you will have your child.

But Shalnark is cruel and twisted in nature, I don't think he is someone who loves his children in a paternal way, he probably sees them as a pet and will appreciate them (Also as something to blackmail and threaten you with).

Chrollo:

Chrollo is a being of curious, selfish and greedy nature, a being rejected by the world. I think he has that desire to form a family and ABOVE ALL, have a child, it is something that will finally be authentically HIS.

It's not that he KILLS to get you pregnant or it's a mortal necessity (Like Uvogin to Illumi) but it's a recurring thought.

It doesn't matter if he agrees or not, he's still going to get you pregnant when he can. He is going to push hard into your pussy and he is going to cling to your body telling you how beautiful mother you are going to be and how he is not going to stop until you are all swollen and pretty, that you will be his queen and that he will do everything for you.

Simply love your pregnancy, love hugging your belly, talking to it and planting soft kisses on it.

Thanks for reading this shit 🤍

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #genei ryodan #genei ryodan smut #shalnark #shalnark ryusei #shalnark x reader #hxh x reader #chrollo #chrollo smut #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #yandere chrollo #yandere #yandere hxh #soft yandere #yandere shalnark #tw yandere #tw pregnancy #tw forced pregnancy #uvogin x reader #franklin x reader #nobunaga x reader #feitan x reader #illumi x reader #phantom troupe x reader #hisoka x reader #phinks x reader

[bwabys-scenarios]

Reunited

Part 22

Illumi x Reader x ??????

Part 21

Part 23

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @merinfawleygoestohogwarts @shidoni-san @living4tomrua

if you want to be tagged in the next update, comment a red heart ❤️ and make sure your blog can be mentioned/tagged!!

warnings: angst, also this is short and a bit rushed, but the next few chapters will be a lot of fun I promise!! Also not proof read so 😭😭🙏🙏 grumpy friend reveal next chapter!! YIPPEE

Illumi tapped away at the dining room table, anxiously glancing at (Name) ever so often. Not even her hand in his could quell his anxieties.

“So, how was your little date, Illumi?”

“Wasn’t a date, mother.”

The air was tense, (Name) caught in the middle of all of it. The longer dinner went on, the more agitated Illumi was getting.

Silva cleared his throat and stood, the table turning their attention to him.

“I’m sure Kikyo informed you all that I had an announcement to make tonight. It’s been over a month since (Name) joined our home, and she has been carefully monitored the entire time.”

Now (Name) was tense. Monitored the entire time? She desperately hoped that was an over exaggeration. Illumi squeezed her hand, a scowl apparent on his face.

“Every report back has been… amazing. Her improvements in her nen ability alone is nothing to scoff at. Factor in her newfound fighting skills and you have yourself a woman with great potential.”

Illumi’s grip on her hand tightened, to the point (Name) had to pull away. His eyes were narrowed, staring his father down.

“What is your point, Father?”

Silva chuckled, waving his hand at Illumi dismissively. “Ever impatient when it comes to that girl, eh, Illumi? I’ll get straight to the point.”

He grinned, an intense aura settling over the dinner table.

“I am proposing that (Name) stay here with us more permanently. As Illumi’s bride, to be exact.”

Illumi slammed his fist on the table, cracking the wood. “Father! Have I not told you that she and I are nothing but friends?”

“You have, but you can’t hide the way you look at her, son. You should be happy that I’m allowing you to wed the woman you love.”

Kikyo sensed the conversation was becoming hostile, so she stood alongside her husband. “Illumi, sweetheart, don’t be stubborn. You’re obviously infatuated with this girl, why n-“

“Enough. I’ll hear nothing more of this.” He began to leave, but was stopped by Silva.

“Illumi.” His warned, Illumi stopping in his tracks. “I had Amane and Tsubone breech the topic to (Name), and from what I heard she was not entirely against the idea.”

Illumi turned to look at (Name) who was hiding her flustered expression behind her hands. Was she really okay with marrying him? Part of him wanted to run over and propose now, but the other, nastier side of him needed control over the situation.

“Oh really? What, did they say we’d take care of her family or something? Seriously, I didn’t take you as the type to marry someone for their wealth (Name).”

Illumi spat those words out without really thinking, rolling his eyes. “Did they say I loved you? That I told them you would be my future bride? I only said that so the butlers wouldn’t poison your food. Honestly why would I ever-“

He stopped when he noticed (Name) slamming the dining room hall door behind her. The sound of her storming away echoed down the halls, Illumi’s family staring at him.

“You’re terrible at lying when it comes to her, Illumi.” Zeno stated, crossing his arms. “And now you’ve gone and upset your loved one.”

Kalluto stood, rushing out of the door to follow after (Name), sending a glare in his brother’s direction.

“My, what cruel words to say to such a lovely young lady, Master Illumi.”

Tsubone appeared by Silva’s side, tutting softly.

“Silence, Tsubone. You should be glad your head is still intact.”

Illumi’s bloodlust filled the room, the man ripping the dining room door off his hinges as he left. Tomorrow, he would attempt to talk with (Name) and apologize, but tonight, he needed to let off some steam.

Good thing he was an assassin.

“He’s made things so much more complicated.” Kikyo lamented, sighing behind her fan.

“No matter. She will be his bride, whether they like it or not. It’s only a matter of time.”

Silva sat back down at the dinner table, continuing his meal. “Once a Zoldyck, always a Zoldyck. The minute Illumi called her his future bride, her fate was sealed.”

——————

Kalluto approached (Name)’s door, listening to her from behind it. He could hear her crying, the sound of sniffling filling the hallway.

He knocked, the door creaking open when he did. “(Name)? It’s Kalluto.”

(Name) sat on her bed, throwing clothing into a suitcase. Tears cascaded down her tears as she packed, sniffling every so often as she did.

“What are you doing?”

(Name) looked up from her task, quickly wiping away her tears. “Oh, Kalluto. Sorry you had to see me like this. I’m just packing. Don’t want to take up anymore of Illumi’s previous resources.”

She slammed the suitcase shut, zipping it before placing it on the floor. “You’re leaving? But (Name), it’s the middle of the night.”

He grabbed her hand gently, the girl looking away. She was angry and upset, not able to think clearly. “I don’t care. I can’t stand being here another second. I don’t understand why Illumi would say such a thing to me!”

She wrapped her arms around herself, tears falling from her eyes. Kalluto held his hand to his chest, unsure of what to say.

Sure, he knew that Illumi was in love with her and didn’t mean the things that he said, but she didn’t. How would he soothe her aching heart?

“… Illumi didn’t mean it. He… has trouble expressing himself.”

(Name) scowled, grabbing her phone and pocketing it. “I don’t really care if he meant it or not, he doesn’t get to talk to me like that. I’m not after his money, he should know that by now, and even implying that is nasty.”

She patted Kalluto’s shoulder, smiling. “I’m not mad at you, and I want you to have this.” She slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it. “If you ever get lonely or need help, this is my number. I’ll see you later.”

Before she could leave her room, Kalluto called out to her.

“Wait! (Name), please wait to leave until the morning! I’ll accompany you, I promise. Just…”

He held onto her sleeve, not daring to look at her face, if he did, he might cry.

“It’s dangerous. I know you’re angry and upset, but… please think about your safety. People know you’re connected to the Zoldycks now, so you have to be careful.”

(Name) stopped, letting go of her suitcase and pulling Kalluto into a hug. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that. I must of worried you, huh?”

He nodded against his shoulder, unable to speak. If he did, his voice would break.

“I’ll be up early in the morning to leave. Meet me in the courtyard at 6 am, okay?”

She didn’t leave any room for discussion, hiding him out of her room so she could get some much needed sleep.

(Name) had such a nice day, and for it to end so terribly made her chest hurt. She knew Illumi was lying, that he didn’t actually think she was after his money, but that didn’t make the words hurt any less. If he couldn’t be honest about how he felt about her, then she didn’t need to stick around.

‘I don’t think I can stop being his friend, I care about him too much, but I need time to think. To sort out my own feelings.’

She laid down on her pillow, a few stray tears staining her pillowcase. “Stupid Illumi…”

—————

Illumi arrived home the following afternoon, covered in blood. He took a quick shower, slowly calming down as the water soothed his sore muscles.

He’d been such an idiot last night. His father had said (Name) hadn’t been completely against the thoughts of marriage or dating, why did he have to say that to her? Not once did he ever think she only wanted him for his wealth. She already hated receiving small gifts from him, why would she marry him for such purposes?

He excited the shower, throwing on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Would she even talk to him right now? She’d been pretty upset last night.

‘No matter. She’ll have to talk with me eventually. I just have to try.’

Illumi climbed the stairs, knocking on her door. It creaked open, revealing an empty room.

“Hmm. She must be in the training hall.” He said aloud, turning on his heels.

She wasn’t in the training hall, but Kalluto was. His younger brother looked up from his workout to give Illumi a cold look.

“Hello brother. What brings you here?”

Illumi frowned. Kalluto had never looked at him like that before. “I’m looking for (Name). Where is she?”

Kalluto set down the weights he’d been lifting, crossing his legs. “She left.”

Illumi raised an eyebrow. “Left? What, did she want to go to town?”

Kalluto sighed, standing. “No, she’s gone. She packed up last night and left for home early this morning. She’s long gone by now.”

Illumi was frozen in place, his eyes widening at thsi revelation. He’d expected her to be angry, but for her to leave with such short notice wasn’t something he was expecting. A wave of nausea washed over him, his nerves getting the better of him.

“… who opened the gate for her?”

Kalluto crossed his arms. “Grandfather did.”

Illumi was gone, the only thing showing he’d been there the lingering bloodlust in the air.

——————

“Grandfather.”

Zeno peered over his shoulder to see Illumi standing in the doorway, gripping the frame so hard it brown under the pressure. “Yes, Illumi?”

“Why the hell did you open the gate for (Name)? You understand how dangerous it is for her to be without an escort while connected to us.”

Zeno looked back forward, out the window surveying the manor. “She wanted to leave, and I will not keep her against her will.”

Illumi frowned. “I don’t give a shit about what she wants right now, I care about her safety.”

“Illumi.”

The dark haired assassin froze in place. “You promised her she could leave whenever she want, and we Zoldycks do not break promises.”

“But-“

“Do not worry, Illumi. I’ve taken some precautions in regards to her safety. Only an idiot would hurt her, knowing she is the future bride of a Zoldyck. We have a tracking device on her that tracks her location and health, so if anything happens you will be the first to know.”

Although he was still angry, Illumi had to admit his grandfather had gone above and beyond to quell his concerns.

He left his grandfather, storming back to (Name)’s room. He checked the room, looking over every detail.

On her desk was a note, folded neatly with a sticker keeping it together. He recognized that sticker, (Name) had written this note.

He broke the sticker seal, opening the note.

Dear Illumi,

Your words last night really hurt me. I thought by now you’d know me better than to assume I’d only marry for money, but I guess I was wrong.

If you can’t handle you feelings, that’s fine, but don’t step all over mine. I truly care for you, so much that it pains me to have to leave like this.

I won’t stop being your friend, that would hurt me too much to bear, but I will be distancing myself from you until I can handle being in your presence. If I saw you now, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. Even writing this now is hard, the tears won’t stop coming.

Please, try and figure out how you feel before contacting me again. I can’t handle the whiplash of your tender touch and harsh words. It’s too much to bear.

I will come visit you sometime after September, so please have everything sorted out by then. I’m patient, but I won’t forever.

Regards, (Name)

Illumi read over the note several times, his eyes scanning the text like it was his own holy scripture.

He set the note back on her desk, sitting on her bed and burying himself in her comforter. He’d gotten too used to seeing her when he returned home, the lack of her presence unnerving him.

Illumi let a few tears fall, joining (Name)’s on her tear stained pillow. He’d made her cry again, and in his mind that was an unforgivable crime.

If anyone but him had been the cause of her tears, he’d have killed them where they stood. Why did he get to escape with little consequences, the girl still seeing him as a friend despite his harsh words?

“(Name)… I promise, I’ll be better. I… I really love you.” He whispered, taking in her scent still lingering on her bedding.

Even though his tears, he still felt angry. Angry at himself for pushing her away, but even more angry at her for leaving. But under all that anger and sadness was a layer of anxiety bubbling to the surface.

She wasn’t there. He couldn’t keep a watchful eye over her, or make sure she was safe. Illumi could only hope she would return to him when she was ready.

He didn’t have much of a choice, and having so little control over the matter was killing him.

Kalluto listened to him from down the hall, the younger Zoldyck sharing his older brother’s keen hearing. He wished his brother could say those words to (Name), frowning deeply. Maybe if he’d been brave enough to share his true feelings, she would have stayed, maybe even become a Zoldyck happily.

Now Kalluto was afraid (Name) wouldn’t have any choice in the matter. His parents had already set their eyes on her, and they weren’t the type to compromise. He just hoped his brother would hold himself accountable for his actions, because (Name) would be affected either way.

—————

A few days passed, and (Name) had arrived home. She lived in a small cabin a few miles out of her hometown, having moved a few hours away from her family when she turned 19,

The small plot of land had plenty of room for several fruit trees and a chicken coop. A small river stretched across her property, fish seen through the clear water.

It had been several months since she’d been home, and (Name) was ready to relax by herself.

(Name) plopped down on her couch, opening her phone to check her messages. She’d texted her friends her change in location to keep them informed.

Pretty Boy🫶: I see. Thank you for informing me.

Silly<3: stay safe!

Grumpy Pants: Don’t forget to lock back door. Always leave it unlocked

(Name) giggled at her friends responses.

She set her phone down and turned on the TV, allowing herself to lose herself in whatever came on.

As the months dragged on, (Name) found herself packing her suitcase again. It was a week until she had to meet her friend in York New, and to say she was excited was an understatement.

She’d been busying herself all summer with picking fruit and preparing jam to make enough money to stay in York New comfortably.

It was hard work, and she often went without breaks all day long, but she’d saved up enough to be able to have some fun.

She’d also taken her first mission as a hunter.

It wasn’t anything special, just collecting some samples of a fungus and returning it to a Fungus Collector, but they paid well. She’d sent all of her Hunter earnings to her family, so she didn’t have to worry about them during her trip.

(Name) mulled over what clothing she could pack, glancing between her several dresses and pants. The air was beginning to chill, meaning no more tank tops and shorts.

She wished her friend could have met with her during the summer, but he’d been busy. (Name) usually never complained, but the weather had been so nice, and she would have enjoyed swimming with him.

He didn’t like swimming, but would watch over her protectively as she splashed in the water, sliding down the small hill when she would slip on a river rock and plunge into the depths. Even though he disliked getting wet, he would jump in to pull her to safety if he even thought she was in danger.

He didn’t like admitting this though, and would scold her heavily after she finished coughing up the river water.

(Name) didn’t want to think about the scolding she would get if he found out how Illumi had treated her. Though, I guess Illumi would get it worse. Her friend didn’t exactly like her hanging out with men, so Illumi was kind of screwed from the beginning. Maybe he’d been right.

“Hmm, if I start thinking about him I’ll cry.”

Illumi had called her several times, asking her to come home. She rejected him each time. Her heart was still hurting, and it wasn’t going to heal just because HE wanted it to. She needed time, but he was rather impatient.

He’d been angry that she didn’t tell him she was going on her mission beforehand, stating he would have gone with her.

“Well that’s why I didn’t tell you. I’m not helpless, I can defend myself.”

(Name) couldn’t help but feel cold towards him. He always felt like he needed to have some semblance of control over her, and it was annoying. After that conversation Illumi hadn’t talked with her again. It had been a few weeks, and although she was still angry with him, the girl worried for his well being.

“I know he’s an assassin and he’s busy, but I wish he would at least tell me when he’s going to go no contact. I miss meeting up with him.”

(Name) paused, her own words confusing her. ‘Meeting up with him? What did that mean. I don’t even wanna see his face right now.’

She mulled over these thoughts as she finished packing, zipping her suitcase together with a sigh.

“Never mind. I need to call the pet sitter…”

—————

(Name) had made plans to spend the remaining week before York New with Gon and Killua. Killua was bad at hiding his excitement over her visit, saying he didn’t care if she came or not.

As (Name) exited the boat to whale island, a woman with pretty red hair waved to her, grabbing (Name)’s attention.

“Hello, you must be (Name)! I’m Mito, Gon’s aunt.” the woman called out, offering (Name) her hand.

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you! You raised such a sweet boy. Gon helped us all a lot during the exam, to say he caught a lot of people’s attention would be an understatement.”

Mito beamed, her eyes crinkling from her smile. (Name) looked around, raising an eyebrow.

“Speaking of the boys, where are they?”

“Oh, you know boys, they’re off exploring in the wilderness. Gon asked me to greet you. More often than not he spends his time among wildlife, not people.” Mito mused, leading (Name) away from the dock.

Their home was nice. The interior was tidy, with fresh flowers placed in vases near the windows.

(Name) sat at the small table, sipping on a cup of tea Mito had prepared. It was nearing dark, the two women having been talking all day.

Mito had some choice words to say about Illumi, making (Name) laugh. She didn’t think the woman had it in her to curse so vulgarly!

“Aunt Mito, we’re-“

Gon and Killua, covered in dirt and leaves, stared from the doorway, their jaws agape.

“(Name)!”

The two jumped into the air, landing on the unsuspecting girl. She yelped at the feeling of their weight on her, causing her chair to tip back.

They crashed onto the floor, all three laughing. “Did you two miss me that much?”

——————

They all had a lot of catching up to do, so the three travelled to the guest room she’d be staying in to talk.

“(Name), have you learned nen yet?” Killua asked. He couldn’t help feeling partially worried for the girl if she didn’t.

She answered by preforming Ren, causing the two to jump. “Yeah, I’ve actually known about nen since a few days after the exam.”

Killua scowled. “And you didn’t tell us? Rude!”

They told her about their experiences at Heavens Arena, (Name) making a disgusted face at the mention of Hisoka. “Yuck, you had to fight him of all people? Gon you have the worst luck.”

The boy chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “It was a good learning experience. Now I know more than I did before.”

(Name) hummed, looking at the window. “Just uh… try to avoid that guy if you can. He gives off MAJOR creeper vibes.”

“Oh trust me I’m not trying to be buddy buddy with him.” Killua stated, rolling his eyes.

She shared her experience, Killua wincing at his brother’s words. “Yikes, that was harsh even for Illumi. What was he thinking.”

(Name) crossed her arms, pulling her pillow close to her chest. “I’m not sure, but he better get his head on straight. I won’t see him until he’s got his feelings sorted out.”

This was the (Name) that Killua remembered. Stubborn, frustratingly so, yet kind and forgiving. Too forgiving if you asked him, Illumi should be grateful he’d fallen in love with (Name), because there weren’t many people willing to put up with his behavior.

“Have you had any luck with finding your childhood friend?” Gon asked, watching her. She shook her head, sighing.

“No. My parents won’t give me any more information because they say it’s more dangerous to know. I bet they’re glad I have partial amnesia.” She said with a pout, looking out the window.

“All I know is that I used to live in Padokea, so I was hoping I might see him in town, but no dice. I don’t know if I’d be able to recognize him by sight, though.”

Killua wanted to agree, because she’d already found her childhood friend, Illumi, but he couldn’t. Although he wanted (Name) to remember him too, part of him agreed that knowing was dangerous. She had already caught his parents eye, and if she wasn’t careful it could end up getting her hurt.

The three ate dinner together and hung out until bedtime, all retreating to their separate rooms, promising to talk about their plans for York New in the morning.

(Name) spent her days on Whale Island dipping into rivers and helping Mito with the housework. It was still warm there, (Name) thoroughly enjoying her time.

The three had made their plans for York New, (Name) saying they’d have to separate the evening of September 1st.

She didn’t know how much she’d be able to see them, depending on what plans her grumpy friend had for her. They didn’t meet up often, but when they did it was fun. He didn’t ever tell her what he had planned for them, only saying when and where to meet.

As the week ended, the three boarded a boat off of whale island, the three waving at Mito as they sailed off.

—————

Kurapika glanced at his phone, seeing (Name) had texted him.

(Name): We’ll be in York New tomorrow. When you get a chance, come see me! I’m making some more treats!

He smiled at her message, unable to keep himself from blushing. Melody glanced at the boy.

“You’re in love.”

Kurapika looks up, confused. “In love? What are you talking about?”

Melody smiled, twirling her fingers in the air to the sound of unheard music.

“Your heart is singing, racing faster in a love song. You just really care about the person you were talking to.”

Kurapika could barely contain his beating heart, the muscle thumping against his ribs painfully. “You are misreading things. I don’t have the time or energy to be in love. I could never subject a possible partner to my dangerous life style.”

Even as he spoke, he glanced at the friendship bracelet on his wrist, a gift (Name) had sent him for his birthday. It was pink and girly, but he just didn’t feel tight without it on. It was hidden by his sleeve, so no harm no foul, right?

“Hmm. I think everyone falls in love sometimes. It may fade away with time, but your first love will always be in your heart.”

Kurapika nodded, hoping she would leave the subject be. It was already hard enough to acknowledge that he had feelings for (Name), much less talk about it with a stranger.

But a part of Kurapika imagined a world where him and (Name) could be happily in love, living together, perhaps even having children. He quickly shook this thought from his head.

“Let’s get down to business.”

——————

Strawberries: I’m landing in York New now!! Text me when you’re ready to meet up <3

Her grumpy friend texted back a quick response, turning away from the group surrounding him to hide his phone.

Grumpy Pants: Alright. Be safe, and do not explore too much. Dangerous city.

He sent the message, sliding his phone back in his pocket before continuing his journey. He would be arriving by nightfall, so he didn’t know if he’d be able to see her that day. It depended on what the boss had planned for them.

“Who were you texting?”

The man glanced at the pink haired woman beside him, before looking ahead. “None of your business, Machi.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “So secretive. What, is it your girlfriend or something?”

The man froze and unfroze so fast that a normal person wouldn’t be able to catch it, but Machi did. She said nothing, but snickered to herself.

—————

The three friends parted ways sooner than (Name) had expected. It didn’t bother her much, though, because she had some work to do.

(Name) rented out a small condo for her stay. She got a pretty decent deal on it. It was small, but would suit her needs.

The kitchen was the real reason she’d chosen the condo. (Name) needed a kitchen to prepare a surprise for her friend and his comrades. She’d already met a few of them, and really wanted to make a good impression on the rest.

The few she’d met had all been big eaters, devouring any food she sat in front of them, so she assumed the rest of them would have a healthy appetite too.

Because of this, (Name) had her work cut out for her.

Before she reached her condo, she picked up some baking essentials, and a big wicker basket. (Name) wanted to have a picnic, hopefully somewhere pretty so she could take pictures with her friend. She didn’t get a lot of chances to, the only photos of the two on her phone being blurry or focused mostly on her.

As she began to cook, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket, opening it.

Grumpy Pants: Can’t meet tonight. Won’t get there until night. Dangerous for you

She stared at the message for a full minute, pouting.

Strawberries: you know I’m trained in nen and martial arts now, right? I can defend myself!!

He was quick to respond.

Grumpy Pants: Not strong enough. Bad people, hurt you easy

She sighed and continued baking. Around 3 pm, she had finally finished her baked goods, packing them and a few jars of jelly and jam into her large basket. It was quite heavy, the old (Name) wouldn’t have been able to carry it alone, but she was stronger now.

(Name) threw on a white sundress and pink cardigan, slipping on some frilly white socks and black Mary Janes. Her friend might not be in town before night fall, but she was sure his comrades would be.

If (Name) explored town, she might be able to sense one of the auras of the comrades she met and follow it to their location. She gave herself a pat on the back for her idea, walking out of her condo and locking the door behind her.

#x reader #anime x reader #headcanon #reader insert #requests open #smut requests #hxh imagines #hxh x reader #hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi hunter x hunter #reunited illumi x reader #illumi x reader #yandere illumi #illumi headcanons #feitan #feitan portor #feitan porter x reader #hxh feitan #hunter x hunter feitan #gon hxh #hxh killua #hxh kurapika #hxh #hunter x hunter headcanons #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter chrollo #hunter x hunter #hxh chrollo #hxh headcanons

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Feitan Portor x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, Feitan is awkward, why do men always look like they're in such visceral pain when they orgasm, fem reader, MDNI

I want to talk about Feitan's face when he's coming, because it's really something that needs to be discussed.

He's able to hide pretty much every sign of his pleasure when you're in bed with him - he's not letting a single noise slip past his lips, even if it pains him to keep the groan and very, very embarrassing moan that's right on the tip of his tongue from leaving.

He won't sigh and groan when he sinks into you, only biting his lip so hard he nearly draws blood because fuuuck you feel good, but he can't say anything about it without coming off as too eager, too desperate. (Or so, at least his thinks.)

He's seamless about hiding the fact that the orgasm you're working him towards will quite literally leave him breathless, the pleasure so strong and blinding and raw that he'll be seeing stars for a few minutes afterwards, even if you don't know it.

You won't know just how winded he becomes when you grind back on him, your hips moving in tandem with his while you moan and cry out for him, looking all pretty and provocative and naughty when you're wanton and shameless like this. He likes it, though - it makes him feel good, like the sex is more real, wanted, like he's doing a good, like you're actually enjoying having him touch you and love you and pound into you like a jackhammer.

But even Feitan can't hide everything - his body may only minimally jerk and his cock may only throb the smallest amount possible, but even he can't stop the way his face screws up when he comes, ecstasy written across his features because he's coming inside you, for you, because of you.

His lips - now a rosy pink because he's been biting them in his efforts to eliminate any noise - fall open, pants and uneven gasps and breaths spilling out as his head dips back, his eyes squeezing shut so tightly it almost hurts.

His eyebrows draw together tight, dark hairs twitching and quivering because he just can't keep his face still or control his expression when you feel this damn good around him.

He makes this short, airy, wonderful little gasp as the first spurts of cum shoot from his swollen, sensitive tip, and it almost looks like he's grimacing, like it's hurting him.

(It's not - trust me, it's not.)

He almost looks pretty like this, dark hair falling around his face as he tries so, so hard to not grab onto you and ground himself, to not whisper your name or hump into you for that last little fleeting bit of pressure, like some horny, crazed lunatic.

Feitan is a sight to see when he's orgasming, and as soon as the pleasure fades, he'll stare at you for just a moment, this wide, vulnerable look in his dark eyes, awe and shock and even a little bit of love swimming in their dark depths - but all too soon he's leaving the room, clutching onto the bathroom sink countertop and splashing his face with cool water because you can not see the extent to which his blush has spread down from his cheeks to his collarbone.

He's pretty when he comes, his pale skin glowing pink and his features all contorted up in pleasure, and if you were to sneak a peek at him and see this expression, he'd be embaressed.

But if you were to compliment him, to tell him he's so attractive when you're orgasming; I like the way you look... Well, you may just get to see him come again, right then and there from your compliment alone.

#_lee thirsts #_feitan portor #_hxh #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere feitan #hxh smut #yandere feitan portor

[rotten-pomegranate]

(Happy Easter! 🐇) Hiiii, in the headcanons you did about the reader who escaped for years, how long do you think it would take for the characters to trust their darling after escape attempt? Have a wonderful day! 🫶

I will have a wonderful day(it’s 5:00 in the morning where I am) thank you

Warnings: torture

/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\

Feitan

Feitan will never trust you again your gonna be used as a slave for the rest of your life once he gets you back

He might give you privileges like cooking or having a bed back but when he has a meeting with the troupe your chained to the wall

If you ask him for forgiveness he’s gonna straight up cackle in your face and rough you up a bit

The only reason your aloud to cook is because he wants to eat without having to make food so you do it

Shalnark

Shalnark is gonna take a while and you may start to think you got his trust back early on you didn’t he’s just tricking you into thinking that so you let your guard down

He’s gonna keep you in a dog cage until he trust you again, a big dog cage with lots of fluffy pillows and blankets but still a dog bed

He might fully treat you like a dog for a while just to humiliate you, making you beg for food and water every time you wanted some, and you gotta drink and eat it out of a bowl to

He holds a lot of stuff over your head after that, you won’t suck him off to get rid of his morning wood? Remember how nice he was when you ran away, he could have been cruel

He just uses it to guilt trip you

Phinks

Phinks folds the quickest, hearing your little cries coming from the room he locked you in is to much and he wants to hold and comfort you

He doesn’t give you all your privileges back and he’ll never fully trust you again but it’s better then nothing

He expects you to put an effort in your “relationship” now including intimate situations as well, he wants you to do stuff not just lay there and cry

Illumi

Illumi was livid when you escaped and he was livid when he found you, your never gonna get privileges or trust back

He just uses you a an incubator for his heir until he has one and after he has his fairly large family your going on birth control and your just his sex toy that he uses for stress relief

He’ll let you have a knife for cooking which he also makes you do all off

He’s gonna be hitting you a lot more as well, if he didn’t do it often before he does now

Hisoka

You don’t get privileges, you don’t even get to eat most of the time, your his personal flesh light until he forgives and stops beating you up every chance he gets but your still his personal sex doll and your only job is to warm his bed from now on

He’ll let you freely use the bathroom and eat without begging but don’t take it for granted because he can hold a grudge

If you start asking for stuff again he might beat you up to remind you of your place again so just don’t

Chrollo

You better have enjoyed your little vacation because your never gonna see the light of day again, your tied up in his basement, attached to a little bed with access to a small kitchen and a bathroom but it’s far from freedom

He’s still gonna get you pretty dresses but they are only for him to see

He’s never gonna trust you, he’s gonna hold everything over your head from now on, he got you a tight skimpy dress that you don’t even like? Your gonna have to set an alarm because he wants to wake up to a blow job to make his morning wood go down

It’s not gonna be the worst but it won’t be nearly what it was before

©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hisoka hxh #hxh hisoka #uvogin #chrollo hxh #goes and snatches hisoka #hisoka #hxh chrollo #uvogin x reader #hxh feitan x reader #hunter x hunter feitan x reader #feitan x reader smut #yandere feitan #feitan smut #feitan x reader #feitan hxh #shalnark x reader getting high #shalnark y reader #shalnark x reader hxh #shalnark x reader smut #phinks x reader hunter x hunter #phinks x reader smut #phinks x reader hxh #yandere phinks #illumi x you #illumi x reader smut #illumi is everything #chrollo x reader smut #writing

[holydayaria]

Risktaker

Feitan x Reader

Synopsis: Feitan takes your relationship further.

Warnings: yandere feitan, afab reader, heavy dubcon, very unsexy smut

3.6k words... this was supposed to be done by kinktober, not proofread i just wanted to get this out of my drafts... i should probably proofread my stuff though lmao

The basement is, as always, poorly lit. The dim light bulb hanging from the middle of the room provides enough light to see, but not enough to make the room look flattering. Then again, any additional light would show off the scratches on the floor and the dried blood splatter that Feitan hadn’t bothered to clean up. He thinks it sets the tone of his basement quite nicely. Two flies, now dead, have somehow been caught in the light bulb. Sometimes when you see them in the corner of your eyes, you swear that they’re still alive.

The mattress you were given, at the very least, is free from blood stains or other bodily fluids. It’s just comfortable enough that your neck isn’t aching whenever you wake up. You’ve gotten used to this by now, not that it was comfortable for you. After what had to have been a minimum of three, possibly four months, the constant of waking up in a dingy at-home torture dungeon did wear you down. You don’t tremble or even bother trying to reason with Feitan, or so much as ask questions when he stands before you. Sometimes you think he’s gotten less scary in the time you’ve been forced to get to know him, and other times you think that he can read your mind. 

It’s as if the moment you think that maybe things aren’t so bad, or that maybe the cumbersome relationship between you two (if it could even be called that) is improving, Feitan comes down the stairs to his basement with a deranged plan for the day. He never lets you get comfortable, always keeping you on your toes. Sometimes he’d hand you the scalpel and have you cut into whoever was unlucky enough to be tied down in the lone chair in the basement; other times you’re left to do the cleanup of his torture session. Today though, he comes with a demand that seems almost uncharacteristic, unbecoming of him.

“Your clothes. Take it off.”

Feitan says, staring you down. You look back up at him, dumbfounded. Well, you should have expected this to happen. Waking up in a strange man’s basement, on a dingy mattress with your ankle chained to the wall, this must have been inevitable. If anything, you should be surprised it took him so long to do this. There’s a long pause and Feitan’s affect remains flat. He has no intention of asking again, he’s just waiting for you to do what he says. You both stare at each other in silence, you wondering if he’s serious and him wondering what’s taking you so long.

You reluctantly strip, removing the loose-fitting shirt and the shorts he gave you, left only in your underwear– because the thought of offering you a bra never crossed his mind. The clothes are discarded on the mattress, you’d rather not put them on the dirty floor. You attempt to keep some dignity, covering your exposed chest with your arm. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this means he’s going to kill you soon. Once he’s gotten what he wants, he won’t have a reason to keep you around. 

“Your arm, down.”

So much for that.

You lower your arm to your side, your bare chest left on display. Each and every of your muscles are tense, and your body is as stiff as a board. The coldness of the basement is felt tenfold without your clothes, and you shiver both from the temperature and the nervousness, embarrassment, fear. It becomes harder to maintain eye contact, and you quickly give up when his gaze stops meeting yours. His eyes go from your face to your chest, then further down, then upwards to settle on your torso. It’s as if he isn’t sure where to look first. Still, his stare is ever piercing and he almost looks bored. Uninterested, even. You don’t miss the way his breathing picks up a little. 

Feitan does not act nor does he speak. He makes no indication at all of what he’s feeling, though if he didn’t have his cowl, the faintest of grins would be visible. He doesn’t make any move to remove his clothes or initiate anything, so you’re led to believe that all he wanted to do was ogle you. Perhaps this is a new form of torture he’s come up with, leaving you humiliated and cold. 

He continues his leering, Feitan inhales sharply with a visible rise and fall of his chest. Beneath his cowl, his jaw clenches and unclenches. His fingers itch to touch you, to feel your warm flesh flush against the palm of his hand. Something holds him back, you can see his brows furrow and a strange look crossing his features. After a long few moments, Feitan, as per usual, leaves without a word. You’re left to guess when he’s coming back and if you should put your clothes back on. The door leading to the basement is shut behind him, and the light that came from above is also gone.

-

Feitan leans against the bathroom wall, his forehead resting against the wall while he pumps his cock in his fist. He couldn’t be bothered to get any lotion, he’s relying on the spit in his hand to ease the friction. He lets out a few ragged breaths, his cowl lowered now. His jaw clenches and unclenches, and he keeps the mental image of you at the forefront of his mind. You looked soft, he should have touched you. Your skin seemed so easy to break, so easy to draw blood from. Damn you, damn you, and all you’ve done to him. He wants to rip you to shreds.

He stifles a gasp and bites down hard on his lower lip, squeezing his cock and trying to imagine it was your hand instead of his own. That instead of his own palm, it’d be your mouth he’d be releasing his load into. You'd be looking up at him— no, you’d be blindfolded. You’d be obedient, just taking it like you were supposed to. You’d be happy, eager, you’d want this. You’d want him. 

The man’s mind begins to wander. Were you a virgin? He could teach you, if you were, (not that Feitan had much knowledge in that area). He could mold you into whatever he wanted. Or were you experienced? Did you have more experience than him? It would certainly take some of the pressure off of him, but it also makes him feel sick to think about another man, balls deep inside of you. It’s enough to almost kill his mood.

Almost.

A low whimper comes from the back of his throat, and the foreign, warm feeling coiled up in his lower abdomen begins to unravel. Feitan cums in his hand, thick and white. It’s a lot, he hasn’t jacked off in a while. A wave of disgust washes over him when he looks at his cum, staining his hand and dripping from his fingers. He, with little grace, zips up his pants with his clean hand before washing away the shame on his other in the sink.

-

The following days, your contact with Feitan was sparse. More so than usual. You hadn’t caught a single glimpse of him, the only reason you knew he hadn’t forgotten about you is because you’d wake up with a small bottle of water and the minimum requirement of food for the day. You’d heard him coming down once, the basement door creaking open and light flooding into the room, even with your eyes closed you could tell. You pretended to be asleep for his sake (and yours).

He comes round to the mattress, lightly kicking it with his boot. “Get up.” You don’t bother keeping up the fake sleep. You notice that today, he isn’t wearing his cowl or the cloak that covered most of his body. Instead, it’s just a plain black long-sleeve. You sit up on the mattress, still wearing the same clothes from a few days ago. You wait for him to tell you to get up, to follow him for a bath. Instead, Feitan once again instructs you to take your clothes off. So, with much hesitation, you do.

Rather than only staring at your chest, Feitan’s eyes drift down to your underwear. “That too.” It makes your heart sink, but a foolishly hopeful thought comes to your mind. Maybe he was just going to stare at you some more? This wouldn’t be the end of it, but there was still a chance he wouldn’t actually touch you, right? It’s not exactly like you have an option here, he was most likely going to tear off your undergarments himself if you didn’t comply. So, you do what he says, in a painfully slow manner to delay the embarrassment. Your legs are tightly held together, knees to your chest. 

Feitan sits on the mattress with you, killing any notion that ‘looking’ was all he wanted to do. You’re awfully compliant, not that you’ve ever acted out in a major way. It furthers his confidence that you, on some level, must want this too. He’s sat in front of you, and with slight effort, pries your legs apart without a word. You swallow thickly, palms sweaty and your entire body wanting to shut him out. You can’t do this, you won’t. Feitan makes eye contact with you as he pushes your legs apart just enough for him to see his prize. “Calm down. It won’t hurt.” He’s trying to be reassuring, you think. You can’t say it doesn’t help, he hasn’t pulled out some awful tool to mutilate you with. Not yet, anyways. 

He says nothing more, his eyes going over everything he sees. He brings a cold finger of his to your folds, feeling around in a clinical manner. His fingers traipse your most sensitive area, feeling as much as he can with an almost juvenile curiosity. You squirm when his sharpened nail presses against your skin, letting out a small noise. The corners of Feitan’s lips twitch to a grin, and you don’t know if it’s because he likes causing you discomfort or if he thinks he’s doing a good job. His other hand rests firmly on your knee, steadying your leg so you don’t try to shut him out. 

His touch isn’t as sensual as it is exploratory, his fingers touching each fold and sharply contrasting the coldness of his hand to the warmth of your core. You’re far too put off and panicky to tell him anything, to try to guide his hand to the right place. Maybe you should just let him figure it out, assuming he ever will. There’s a lingering fear that he’ll suddenly plunge his fingers in, or he’ll cut you with his long nails, accidentally or otherwise. 

Your face, your ears, and the back of your neck burn hot with shame. The only person who's seen your vagina outside of you and your chosen sexual partners has been your gynecologist, and Feitan is feeling a lot more like the latter than the former. You clench your teeth together, not wanting to let out a single peep if you can help it. His cold fingers run over your clitoris, only briefly. He starts to feel and rub at what he thinks is your clit. You don’t have it in you to say anything. 

Sooner than you expected, Feitan stops. You take in a sharp breath when Feitan puts two fingers inside you. His gaze quickly flicks up from between your legs and to your face. “Does it hurt?” He asks, not moving his fingers. You don’t know what to tell him, if you say yes, he might make it hurt more. If you say no, he still might make it hurt more. You try to suck it up, struggling to meet his gaze out of embarrassment. “No.” You murmur meekly.

“Liar.” Feitan huffs, now avoiding your gaze. He moves his fingers in and out of you slowly, giving you time to adjust to the feeling. His ears strain to hear any noise you make. Any breath in or out, any whimpering or mewling, a moan, even. You do your best to keep quiet, jaw clenched. Feitan wants to ask you if you’ve done this before, if you’re a virgin or not. You’d bleed if you were, that’s how that works, isn’t it? He doesn’t trust himself to be able to hide his reaction, regardless of what your answer is.

He comes to a stop, pulling his fingers out. They’re warm and slightly wet, which is good enough for him. You think it’s over, he’s never gone this far. Surely he’ll leave now, give you a few days to comprehend what’s going on, and then he’ll come back to do it again. Instead, Feitan begins to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. You finally find your voice, wide eyes staring at his narrowed ones. “Feitan.” You choke out, as if just speaking up will make him stop. He looks at you, seeing the fear in your eyes. Usually, he’d relish it. Right now, though, he doesn’t like it. 

“Lie down, or I make it hurt.”

That’s all you need. You lie flat on the mattress, legs still parted while trying to come to terms with what’s happening. He’s going to rape you, for God knows how long. You try to convince yourself that this will be fine. He’s done worse, right? No, no he hasn’t. He’s dumped cold water on your head during baths when you moved too much while he washed you. He’s forced you to watch and join in on some torture sessions, but your participation hardly lasted more than five minutes, or however long it took for him to get annoyed with your crying and sniveling. He’s leered at you and stared in ways that could be described as lecherous before. But he’s never touched you in a perverse way until now, and the idea of Feitan forcing himself on you seemed abstract to you. Not that you never thought it would happen, but over the months, it just didn’t seem likely. Feitan speaks up again, this is the most talkative he’s been… ever.

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be nice.”

That sentence alone makes your stomach lurch. You can see his dick from this angle, and the thin, wiry black pubes that come with it. With minimal warning, Feitan inserts himself into you after aligning his hips with yours. You let out a gasp from the intrusion, hands clenched into a fist as you’re forced to take him. Feitan isn’t particularly big or girthy, but it isn’t welcome regardless. He brings himself from his haunches and is now on top of you, albeit a bit awkwardly. Your noses are just inches away from each other, and if Feitan wasn’t still so hesitant to be intimate with you he might have leaned his forehead against yours. 

Feitan lets out a brief, incredibly stifled whimper when he’s gone as far as he can go, You’re so warm, too warm, too tight. You almost wonder if you were just hearing things, if that noise really came from him. His nails dig into your upper arms as he steadies himself, unintentionally drawing blood from how tight his hold on you is. You wince, gasping from how hard he’s holding onto you and his sudden intrusion. You’re barely wet enough to take him, but not without discomfort. 

“Feitan-“ You can’t keep your mouth shut any longer. It’s uncomfortable, it hurts. “Be quiet.” He says, unwilling to hear your complaints, should they ruin his fantasy. You take in a shaky breath, stifling a noise of discontent at how much friction there is. Feitan pipes up again, trying to sound less irritable for your sake. This won’t be enjoyable for either of you if you’re this tense. “Relax.” He says, in a somewhat nicer tone. It hardly helps, but you want to believe that he’s not actively trying to hurt you.

For a fleeting moment, you’re both left to catch your breaths, trying to adjust to the changes. Feitan's eyes, which for a second had softened unwillingly, hardened as his gaze met yours, scanning your face for something you couldn’t quite place your finger on. He can see it on your face that you’re a lot more than just apprehensive. You’re afraid, a look that he’s overly familiar with. You try not to make a face, to not let your disgust and terror show. You don’t know what to say, and Feitan seems to be content with staying silent. Slowly, he begins to thrust in and out, trying to find a good rhythm. He’s incredibly slow at first, not wanting to overwhelm himself and lose control. Meanwhile, you try to think of something else. Anything else. 

You think about your old job. You weren’t fond of it at the time, now you’d do anything to go back. Anything for human interaction with someone that wasn’t an antisocial sadist. You’d give up all you had to go back to your old apartment; your apartment that never had hot water, only lukewarm. At least you could have taken a shower whenever you damn pleased, and ate any meal you wanted whenever you felt like it. Now, you were a house pet confined to this man’s basement at best, and a future victim to his assortment of tools at worst. Feitan continues rocking his hips back and forth at a steady pace, occasional low whines that he can’t quite keep hidden resonating in the back of his throat. You pretend not to hear anything.

You realize at some point that you’re not going to cum from this. It had been in the back of your mind, now at the forefront. Likewise, you knew from the beginning this wasn’t going to be an enjoyable experience. Still, expressing that to your incredibly violent kidnapper probably isn’t a good idea. To his credit, you were worried that sex with him would be extremely rough or involve you getting teeth or fingernails pulled. Just glancing over his shoulder, you can see an assortment of hardware tools and medical instruments hanging on a pegboard on the opposing wall. He used those on many people, and threatened to use them on you. You can see a roach scuttle up the wall and onto the pegboard. The unsexy atmosphere is making this entire ordeal worse. At least Feitan’s enjoying himself.

You bite down on your lower lip, reluctant to let any noise of pain escape. You grit and try to bear it, looking off to the side. You would have thought Feitan would reprimand you in some way, but he seems comfortable with not making eye contact right now. You try to relax, but suddenly he’s picking up the pace. Feitan starts to go faster, faster than you’re comfortable with. Your breath catches in your throat, and Feitan takes the noises you make as encouragement. Surely he’s doing the right thing. 

It hurts, and he only seems to be speeding up. You can hear him over you, panting. You can see your old apartment if you visualize hard enough, you can taste the day-old spaghetti on your tongue. The pained moans leaving you are mistaken for ones of enjoyment. He doesn’t say anything, but you get the feeling that he’s close. You pray to whatever God is out there that he won’t want to go for a second round.

He suddenly leans down and bites down on your shoulder, clinging to you with a harsher grip. You shriek, His toes curl, and he shudders slightly, not bothering to pull out when he cums inside of you. You can feel it, warm and filling, seeping into the parts of you that Feitan couldn’t. Feitan flops on top of you, his head dips to rest on the crook of your neck, and he swallows thickly as he comes down from his high. Feitan doesn’t look at you, keeping his head low. He bites the inside of his cheek, knowing he’ll need to get you a contraceptive of some sort. The last thing he wants is to get you knocked up because he couldn’t pull out fast enough. The entire act couldn’t have been more than seven minutes, nine if you’re being generous. It felt like it could have been three hours. 

After a long few minutes, Feitan moves and pulls himself out of you. He still is laying on top of you, head resting just below yours. He looks down, narrowing his eyes. So you were a virgin, he thinks. There are a few flecks of blood, on him and you. He takes it as a sign of you tearing from the penetration, not from him relentlessly thrusting in and out without proper lubrication. There’s a quiet moment that you two share, and you can feel Feitan staring at you. You keep your gaze on the ceiling, overlooking his shoulder, feeling numb and out of your body. Feitan’s breathing is audible, and he doesn’t move away from you; though he doesn’t move closer either. The roach has crawled onto the ceiling now. You focus on that instead of Feitan’s weight on top of you.

You’re both sweaty and tired, skin clinging to skin. You can’t see the bite mark on your shoulder, but it stings, and you think you’re bleeding. Feitan knows he needs to get up soon and tend to the wound he made on your shoulder. He’d give you a bath while he was at it, maybe he could join you. For now, though, he just wants to close his eyes for a few minutes.

#_hxh #_feitan #feitan x reader #yandere feitan #yandere feitan x reader #yandere hxh #hxh x reader #yandere

[lliminall]

run, rabbit, run

[yandere!feitan x reader]

word count: 2.1k

tags: she/her reader, yandere, predator/prey dynamics, non-con, feitan has a chase kink and you find out the bad way, this is also the first time I’ve written smut so that gets a warning itself lol

Your legs are aching, and your lungs burn, and this was a very bad idea.

You are running through the woods, at night, in god knows what part of what country, and this was a very, very bad idea. You’re sure that if Feitan has come back now and realized that you’re gone, it would do you no good to turn back and beg for his forgiveness though, so you don’t. You keep running.

To be fair, it wasn’t like you’d had an opportunity to escape yet in the months he’s kept you in the house long behind you. You saw a chance and panicked, and took it, and it was a horrible terrible awful fucking idea because your legs hurt and your lungs hurt and your feet hurt and you don’t even know where you are. The woods stretch on forever. The moonlight is hardly enough to even place your next step with.

You have a sense, as well, that you are not alone in these dark woods. But of course you would feel that way, right? You’re in the woods with every other night-crawling creature and surely Feitan hasn’t tracked you down already. It’s too dark and you’ve had too much of a head start. He’ll find you and make you regret it in the morning, you think, when you’re too tired and thirsty to give any more of a chase.

A branch snaps somewhere behind you, and your blood turns to ice in your veins. You stop dead in your tracks to look back, but there’s nothing in what little patches of light you can see. The woods are silent apart from your breathing, and you think wishfully that it couldn’t possibly be him because he moves like a ghost through the house he keeps you in, never making noise unless he wants you to hear it.

But that’s just it, isn’t it?

Unless he wanted you to hear it.

There’s another snap from a different direction, closer now, and you don’t know how he could have gotten there so fast and so quietly. It can’t be him. Of course it’s him. Please god don’t let it be-

“Are you done yet?”

It is him. It’s him it’s him and if you were breathing hard before, you’re choking on air now. Your feet feel stuck to the ground.

He continues, taunting and gleeful. “Poor rabbit, doesn’t know where to run.”

You can’t see him, but you can hear his satisfaction at having caught you in your mistake. You think, regretfully, that this was probably what he wanted all along. Another excuse to punish you. You wonder if he gave you the chance to escape on purpose.

Your will to run is draining quickly. You’re not stupid enough to think he’ll let you off easy if you give up now and apologize, but what good does running do at this point? You go to turn towards the sound of his voice, resigned to whatever fate he has planned, when he speaks again.

“You’re done already?” he says for the second time. There’s that taunting edge in his voice again, and you know now that he’s having fun with this. Seeing you struggle, making you scared, watching you fail. It’s all a game.

You open your mouth to tell him yes, you give up, just take you home and get it over with, but there’s a hard thock in the tree trunk closest to your legs, and you whip your head towards the sound to see that he’s thrown a fucking knife at you, and your legs are moving again as he cackles behind you.

You don’t have the presence of mind to think that this is the first time you’ve heard him laugh.

Now, when he chases you, you hear him. His footsteps are loud and his voice mocking while you crash through the brush, branches whipping your face and legs and arms. You wish he would just catch you, like you know he easily could. You’re exhausted and scared and aching and it’s enough to make you miss your mattress on the floor of his basement.

Would he punish you more if you gave up? Are you really any better off if you let him run you through the woods all night?

You want to give up. You want to tell him to go fuck himself and his stupid games and all the other freak shit he’s put you through, and your legs burn and your lungs burn and-

Something collides with you from behind with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs, driving you into the ground. It’s him, of course, pinning you underneath him and tangling a fist in your hair to shove your face into the soft moss. Your head is spinning and you can just make out his voice above you.

“Stupid girl,” he spits. “Can’t run. What should I do to you now that I have you?”

You try to lift your head to see him but he holds you down with more strength than you can hope to fight. You open your mouth to speak, to tell him fuck you, I hate you, I hope you die, but before you get the words out he’s pressing his hips down and rolling them into your ass and-

Oh. Oh god.

He’s hard.

Your mind blanks with the sensation, the horrifying realization of what exactly he’s going to do to you. You think he’s breathing harder than usual above you and you know it’s not for lack of energy. He presses his chest against your back and you feel his breath against your ear.

“What will you do,” he breathes, “now that I have you?”

His hands are on your waist then, flipping you onto your back before he drops down to rest on your hips again. The air is cold on your cheeks, and you realize that it’s because they’re wet, and your crying.

Feitan dips down to your face and licks a long line from your lips up to your eyelashes, catching the tears and leaving a sticky stripe behind. In the patch of earth he has you pinned in, there’s just enough light to make out his sneering face, and you wonder if you’ve ever seen him so satisfied as he is now. There’s no question that you’ve given him exactly what he wanted, and he’s going to punish you for it anyway.

His fingers undo the knot on your shorts.

“Will you behave?” he asks as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, sliding them under your ass and off your legs. It’s a pointless question. There’s nothing you could do with him straddling your body and snatching your wrists to pin them above your head. With his other hand he undoes the clasp of his own pants and reaches down to pull out his stiffening cock.

You nod in response to his earlier question, and part your lips when he presses two fingers into them. They slide along your tongue, stale with the taste of dirt and sweat, and you gag as he scratches just a bit too close to the back of your throat before reefing them from your mouth and sliding them down his dick. How considerate, you think, of him to bother lubing himself up for you.

It’s also apparently the only nicety he’s going to give you, because in the next moment he’s lining his dick up with your entrance and you yelp as he pushes himself in to the base with one fluid motion. He groans as he bottoms out and you squirm, trying to lessen the stinging stretch, with no luck.

The ground is rough and cold under the bare skin of your lower half, roots digging into the muscles in your back as he begins a brutal pace. Your breathe hitches with each mean thrust, and you turn your head to the side to avoid his searing gaze.

This is surely only the first of many punishments to come. You’ve never done something this blatantly disobedient with him before.

What would he even do, to scare you out of trying it again?

Feitan must notice that you’ve become lost in your thoughts, because his hand is gripping your jaw and turning your face to meet his again. His lips smash against yours, grinding, biting, growling.

“Look at me,” he says against your mouth. His tongue slides in through your lips, tangling with yours, and you taste your own blood on it.

“Look at me”—you yelp with a particularly hard thrust—“when I fuck you.”

In the quiet of the night you can hear the steady wet sounds of his dick pumping in and out of you. That initial pain from the stretch is gone, and the longer he’s at work, the warmer the space between your hips grows. You realize, humiliatingly, that he hasn’t once needed to stop and re-lube himself, because you’re more than wet enough on your own.

He shifts the angle of his hips slightly, and his cock is rubbing up against all the soft, sensitive spots inside you. The wicked glint of his teeth in the moonlight tells you that he’s just as aware of your growing arousal as you are.

It makes your cheeks heat up and the space behind your eyes begins to sting with fresh tears, as that coil in your belly continues to tighten and you both know exactly what he going to make you do.

“You like it?” he sneers. He slides a thumb around the seam where your entrance and his cock meet, picking up your slick and dragging it up to your puffy clit. You sob as he begins circling it with an unfair precision, and your thighs begin to tremble with the sensation.

“You like it,” he continues, “when I fuck you into the dirt like an animal?”

He’s waiting for an answer, you realize, when the nails on his other hand bite dangerously into your wrists, and you sob yes, Feitan, yes.

The steady thrusting, his finger on your clit, and the weight of his body on yours is bringing you closer and closer to the edge, skin hot, core aching, until all at once the coil snaps and your toes are curling with your release.

His grin above you is nothing but predatory, and your cheeks flush with humiliation as your back arches into the waves of pleasure, hips rolling to meet his. You bite your lips to try to stifle the moan being ripped from you throat, but the look on his face tells you he’s gotten everything he wanted anyways.

His pace quickens as your own high sizzles out, and soon the movements become erratic and harsh before he stills altogether, grinding his hips shallowly into yours as he groans and paints your insides with his cum.

The air is cold without the heat of sex warming your skin. You’re boneless on the ground, sucking in deep breaths, and the man above you looks no worse for wear.

You don’t dare meet his eyes. You’re dirty and tired and your face is streaked with tears, and you wish you didn’t care about how pathetic you must look to him.

The hand clasped around your wrists slides down to your mussed hair. Gently, he tucks a stray piece back into place, brushes a few strands away from your damp cheeks. You don’t let yourself stop to think of the implications.

He slides out of you and while you’re gathering your senses, he’s picked up your clothes to tug them back up your legs, under your bottom, and back into place around your hips.

He pulls you up onto shaky legs, and you feel his cum soaking through your panties and dripping down your thighs. You think you could start crying again.

He takes your wrist in a grip with a bit too much force, and tugs you along after him as he starts back towards the house. The pace he sets is just quick enough to have you stumbling after him, and you think again of what he’s going to do to you when you get back.

Fresh tears fall down your cheeks, and in a weak voice you tell him “I’m sorry, Feitan.”

He spares a glance back at you. You cannot see his expression past his cowl, pulled back into place over his nose and mouth, but in his eyes you see the barest hint of his typical cruel mirth.

“No,” he says, dropping his hand down to yours, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. It could almost be comforting.

“But you will be.”

#i was possessed by thirst demons I have no other explanation for this #feitan.ll #hxh.ll #my works.ll #feitan x reader #feitan #yandere feitan #yandere hunter x hunter #hxh x reader

[h8ani]

Updated Rules List

With my new updated list I’m going to be listing all the requests I’ll be accepting, what fandoms I write for and how you should go about requesting them :)

But also if you are an ageless/blank blog or a minor please do not request me, thank you.

I also wrote both nsfw & sfw content, I also label it on my writings I post. I don’t shy away from anything really so if you’re unsure just send me a message and I’ll clarify if I do!

Things I’ll write for: yandere, noncon/dubcon, fluff, angst, smut, age gap, stepcest, professor/student, sensei/student, spanking, choking, slapping, torture, abuse, female x male, drug use, use of sex toys, abusive relationships, issues with eating, etc type shit

Things I won’t write for: anal, piss/shit play, boy x boy, girl x girl (I’m not super comfortable in my writing yet to write for same sex couples yet I hope you guys understand!)

Fandoms I write for:

Attack on Titan - Levi Ackerman, Eren Yeager, Zeke Yeager, Armin Arlert, Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Hoover, Erwin Smith, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer, Porco Galliard

Hunter x Hunter - Chrollo, Feitan, Shalnark, Kurapika, Leorio, Hisoka, Ging, Illumi, Wing, Kite, Pokkle

Naruto - Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha, Itachi Uchiha, Obito Uchiha, Shisui Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Minato Namikaze, Shikamaru Nara, Gaara, Neji Hyuga, Kiba Inuzuka, Deidara, Sasori, Pain/Yahiko, Iruka Umino, Shino Aburame, Hidan, Kankuro, Sai, Genma Shiranui, Izumo Kamizuki, Kotetsu Hagane, Hayate Gekko

Tokyo Revengers - Takemichi Hanagaki, Manjiro Sano, Chifuyu Matsuno, Shuji Hanma, Takashi Mitsuya, Kazutora Hanemiya, Tetta Kisaki, Atsushi Sendo, Nahoya Kawata, Souya Kawata, Ken Ryuguji, Shinichiro Sano, Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Naoto Tachibana, Izana Kurokawa, Inui Seishu

Tokyo Ghoul - Ken Kaneki, Hideyoshi Nagachika, Uta, Ayato Kirishima, Nishio Nishiki, Koutarou Amon

Ouran Highschool Host Club - Kyoya Ootori, Tamaki Suoh, Takashi Morinozuka, Hitachiin Hikaru, Hitachiin Kaoru,

Prompt Requests/Writing Requests in general:

I will usually have a link of the prompts to request from, from the original post.

If you’d like to request something I wrote just state what content you’d like and who the character is/member he is

I default by writing in fem! reader pov so please state if you’d like gn! reader

Reaction Requests:

State the type of reaction you’d like (example: reaction of them kissing you mid argument)

For any anime reactions just state the anime, boys you’d like the reaction for but please try to keep the number of characters under 10 unless it’s like konoha 11

Selca Ships:

I will do these for both kpop & anime

Send in a max of 3 selfies of yourself

Request a max if 3 animes/kpop groups

You can mix and match if you’d like

Please no filters obstructing what you look like I will just delete it

I will do private ships as well just state that when submitting the ships

Poly Ships:

Max of 2-3 animes/groups

You can mix and match

Request If you’d like these to be private

This ship is me just shipping you with two characters of said anime requested or 2 members of a kpop group

Kink Ships:

Send in a kink along with a kpop group or anime

I’ll say who I think the kinks go with

Aesthetic Moodboards:

Request who you’d like the moodboard for (example: bestfriend mikey sano, date night jungkook, etc)

I’m okay with nsfw moodboards too

#rules #updated list #credit for border goes to benkeibear #navigation