#shalnark x reader smut

[rotten-pomegranate]

Hey no idea if your head canons are open but could you do shalnark nsfw and sfw head canons 🙏

…

Shalnark nsfw and sfw headcannons

Yes queen

Warnings: somophilia, smut, dubcon (pressuring)

Tags: @shalscumbunny

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Sfw

Loves snuggling but can not fall asleep with someone touching him, all cuddly and cute and then he falls asleep and your getting pushed to the corner of the bed

Not a big fan of spicy food, he’ll eat it if served to him but he would never order it on a menu

Plays a lot of video games, loves it, wants you on his lap while he does it, and support from under the desk is fine too

Doesn’t like hair touching the back of his neck, can’t stand it, puts it up in the smallest little pony tail

Can cook pretty good, can’t bake though, might burn down the kitchen trying to bake, is a big fan of when you bake and bring him what you made, wearing a cute little apron he got you, holding a cute little tray for him is one of his favourite sights

Watches anime with you, even if your don’t like it, he doesn’t care

He’s really selfish, doesn’t share his food and doesn’t make room on the couch or bed for you unless you practically beg

He Doesn’t like animals, doesn’t want them in his house or anywhere near him, thinks they smell bad, and also doesn’t understand how anyone else could want them

Nsfw

He really likes holding your hair in a tight fist, not quite pulling just tightly gripping, if you pull away it’ll turn into pulling though

He’s a boob man, loves them, loves leaving hickeys all over them every time you have sex

Loves exploring stuff, will try anything at least once, if you don’t wanna try something but he does he’ll pressure you into doing it, that or he’ll hold something expensive he bought you over you head

He loves pegging, has so many orgasms without spilling a drop of cum, it gets even better when you ride him after to bring release to his heavy balls

Has you ride his abs on a weekly basis, and his thigh, he loves seeing you grind and chase your own pleasure, and if you think you done after you orgasm your so wrong, you can’t be the only one to have fun

Wants you to suck his dick while he’s on his computer, doesn’t even say anything just snaps in your direction and points between his legs most of the time

And one last thing is he hates using a condom, will whine and beg until you just cave and let him fuck you without one, he’ll pay for your birth control that’s how much he hates them, feels like it takes away from his experience

[lightfeltmemories]

yandere! perv! shalnark smut in which shalnark is obsessed on watching reader (his normal civilian friend) through hidden cameras he placed on their house? 🤭🤭

i'm the same age as you btw!

HIDDEN

shalnark x female!reader | nsfw

tags: reader is afab, has breasts and vagina, discharge is mentioned a couple times? would that bother anyone? aw well, also, readers shower routine is based off of mine. ;P reader gets horny and masturbates because why not.

tw's: stalking, yandere stuff, mentions of non-con, pretty vague depiction of murder, the summary in of itself is already a trigger warning.

notes: this may be the last hxh request i'll take so far, sorry if this is half assed and pretty short i was kind of running out of ideas for how this would end xc.

w; 1.3k

minors, ageless or blank blogs do not interact

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isn't she beautiful?

the computer showing the figure of a young woman stripping off her work clothes in her bedroom, in an almost teasing way, or that's what he perceived it as.

once she was completely nude, her breast hanging without the support of that uncomfortable bra, her sweaty, used underwear most likely caked in discharge, she shape of her ass, ordinary on most but beautiful on her.

shalnark eagerly watched as she walks into the bathroom attatched to her room, closing the door behind her, his cock pressed against his pants. pretty much begging to be let free of it's confinement, but he wanted to tease himself a little more, waiting until she actually gets in the shower to jerk off.

she pulls the shower curtains away and turns the nobs to where the warm was lukewarm, leaning on a hotter temperature, some useless information he retained.

he knew she was stressed from work today, first having to deal with entitled, annoying customers, and once she leaves work, a scruffy old man follows her to her car in an attempt to get her number, she shoos him away like the pest he was.

little did she know, she thankfully would never see him again.

she steps in the shower, the water hits her body, making her jump, it must not be the right temperature.

the small camera she has yet to see shows her perfectly close, just sitting above in the upper right corner behind the showerhead, he could see her soaked tits, and the water swimming towards her pussy.

bending over to turn the knobs again, the image of him thrusting behind her appears in his head, he wonders how loud she'll moan as his cock plunges deep inside, hitting that one spot that's sure to make her crazy.

this action isn't new for him, he's watched her shower sessions for a while, and it never gets old, thankfully, chrollo hadn't called the spiders to get together in a number of months, so he had a lot of free time to spend, especially watching his dearest friend shower.

once she got it to the right temperature, she picks out her lavender scented organic castile soap, by this point, shalnark's cock is already out on full display, watching in anticipation as she pours some of the soap onto the small towel to wash off her body, she drags the towel in every crevice, her breasts jiggle and flop as she passes by them, cleaning them.

tiny leaks of pre-cum dripple down to his fingers, slowly pumping his fist as he watches her clean her body, the water washing away the soap.

she spreads her legs to let the water run through her pussy, getting a good view of it, her lips slightly spread open, using her fingers to open them even further, his cock twitches at the sight, he was blessed to have a friend with such a beautiful pussy.

even more precum spills out as he unintentionally jerks faster than anticipated, she was cleaning her pussy with the water, honestly, he's so desperate for her, she didn't even have to wash it, the musty smell of discharge and sweat wouldn't even bother him, he's a grown man who's had his fair share of pussy to eat.

she pulls out another soap, a scented body wash, what reads on the bottle says that is was more of a fruity, floral scent, her signature scent, with the perfume that matches almost exactly.

imagining himself smelling her after she dries herself off, on top of her freshly cleansed body, making love marks and bites, she moans his name and tells him to continue.

she once again washes her body, she soap's lather covering parts of her body, he's close to cumming fixating on the way her breasts move, every now and again she'll swipe underneath and let them fall comfortably back down, he might just cum right on the spot if she goes back to opening her legs.

shalnark removes his hand from his cock so that he won't cum too soon, there's still more he wants to see, and if he's lucky like last time, he gets to watch her play with herself.

his cock twitching at the thought, the way she fucked herself with that dildo, the way she rubbed her clit, the way she moaned.. god, he wished he could go back to the very moment he came from that.

but it's only been a few weeks almost a month since that happened, and she hasn't done it ever since.

however, this will do, her shower routine is boring and familiar yes, but it's her, the woman he wants oh so badly, the woman he's obsessed with, beyond obsessed.

the shower routine came to a close as she turns the knobs, the water stops, she hops out the shower to pick up the towel to wrap around her body, concealing it, he quickly switches cameras, to her room, where she walks into, the towel that was wrapped around her was taken off, she begins to wipe away any water, drying herself away, his cock painfully hard as he watches her dry herself, teasing his moist head, she drops the towel and walks over to her dresser; the same dresser her dildo was placed in.

was it about to happen again?

but to his disappointment, she pulled out a pair of underwear, closing the drawer.

she opens another drawer to pull out an oversized t-shirt, closing that drawer and throwing the clothes over onto the bed, where she goes to sit on afterwards.

he waits for what she's going to do next, the camera sits in the far left corner of her room, getting once again another perfect view of her bedroom.

she goes to lay on the bed, spreading her legs, getting another view of her pussy, she was wet, and not because of the water.

was she going to masturbate again?

her fingers travel down to her moistened pussy, spreading her lips with her index and ring finger, she uses her middle finger to dip into her hole to gather some of her slick, and make soft, teasing circles around her clit.

"fuck.." he curses under his breath as he rubs his cock at the same pace she was, he could see her pussy pulsing and twitching with each touch, more juices spilling out, she didn't moan this time, but still.

she reaches over to the small dresser beside her bed to open it, pulling out that same toy, turns out she placed the dildo in a different spot.

she wasted no time shoving the dildo into her wet hole, letting out a soft moan as it's all the way in, she continues to rub her clit with her middle finger, the pace gradually growing faster.

he was jerking so fast, fuck, he could cum in any minute now, this was too much for him, he so badly wished that dildo was replaced with his cock instead, a mere toy can only do so much.

"oh.. oh fuck im so.. close.." she moans softly as tears started to form in her eyes from the amount of pleasure she was experiencing, shalnark couldn't contain it, his cum splattering all over his stomach, breathing heavily as he draws out more.

she throws her head back, quickly removing the dildo as she squirts all over her bedsheets, laying there, breathing heavily, the both of them were.

he stares at the screen with half lidded eyes, watching her frame, he decided that it would be time to turn off his computer, staring at his now soft cock and the cum that lays on his stomach.

"what has she done to me?" he whispers to himself, does he feel .. shameful? has post nut clarity finally caught up with him?

no, he was just tired, he'll finally see her tomorrow anyways, getting up from his chair to clean himself off in his bathroom, wiping off the cum with a damp towel.

thinking about his plan, to kidnap her, and to finally have her all to himself, but on the bright side, she'll never have to worry about old sleezy men hitting on her again, now, would she?

[vanillinwrites]

surrender to me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[hopesangelsprite]

Night Crawler

Pairing: Yandere!Best Friend x Reader

Summary: Love makes you do crazy things sometimes. . . but lust makes you do even crazier things.

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Breaking and Entering, Mentions of Death/Murder, Fingering, Choking/Breathplay, P in V, Prone, Pinning, Size Difference/Kink, Humiliation, Degradation, Creampie

MINORS/AGELESS ACC DNI

Viewer discretion is advised.

Yandere!Best Friend who craves your attention, praise, and dedication 24/7 and hates when anyone or anything comes in between you and him. This leads him to form a particularly sinister hostility toward your family. Every time he sees you with them his stomach turns with envy. He absolutely abhors it; the way you smile at your mother and care for your father, the way you play around and encourage your siblings. It sickens him to his core.

In a fit of jealous rage, he decides that enough is enough. He decides he'll k!ll your family and keep you all for himself.

Yandere!Best Friend who breaks in and creeps throughout your home on a particularly stormy night, using the bad weather to conceal himself and his evil intentions. It's in the earlier hours of the morning, the sky dark and sunrise hours away, so everyone's dead asleep. He's chosen a night you're supposed to be away, wanting to avoid the possibility of you waking up while he basically slaughtered everyone you loved. It'd be hard to watch you grieve over the massacre, but he'd be sure to swoop in and console you when the time was right.

To his pleasant surprise, however, he finds you sleeping peacefully in a guest room far from the rest of your family. His breath hitches in his throat as he looks you over, distorted moonlight washing over your delicate frame. Your pajamas are tiny and thin, made of soft cotton and lace. The fabric does nothing to hide your curves from his prying eyes and when you roll onto your stomach, he can feel his pants becoming uncomfortably tight.

For a while he just stares, watching you sleep from your doorway like the creep he is. You're beautiful and he truly can't help himself. A bolt of thunder crashes outside and a wicked idea forms in the back of his mind that bubbles up to the surface the longer he watches you. He's come here to get rid of your family but. . . he could use you to get off instead. You weren't even supposed to be here, so there was no reason he should let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

With the quietness of a mouse and the stealth of a cat, he slinks into your room and locks the door behind him. He draws closer with bated breath, cock throbbing as he gets a better look at your sleeping form. Though he can't see your pretty face, your ass makes up for any lack. Gently, he trails his fingertips down the small of your back and lets them hover just above your left cheek. He doesn't want to wake you, but he doesn't want to deprive himself of your body either. He carefully lowers his hand, gradually palming the entirety of your ass cheek with large, lengthy digits.  In that moment, he's tempted to take you right then and there.

Yandere! Best Friend who instead restrains himself, lowering his hands to dip between your thighs. You shift in your sleep at the feeling, causing him to still, only to adjust your position. He continues to explore after a while, nearly creaming his pants when he discovers your shorts are the only thing between him and your bare cunt. Without hesitation, he tugs them to the side and begins exploring your folds.

You stir again, soft whimpers escaping your lips. This time your eyelids flutter open, and you begin to wake. With quickness, your assailant is upon you, a large hand covering your mouth before you're mounted to keep you still. Panic floods your system as you struggle to escape, but he's just so much bigger and stronger than you are. As you begin to kick, the hand that had previously been between your legs wraps around your throat and squeezes. "Keep making a fuss. I'll tie you up, kill everybody in the house, and leave you for last.", he growls into your ear softly. Though your brain is still muddled with sleep, you register the threat and stop moving completely.

"Atta girl.", he coos before removing the hand choking you and returning to play with you through your shorts, "If you keep being sweet, I'll be extra good to you.". Tears well behind your lashes and you try to think of ways to escape him while he kisses along your cheek and neck. However, he's got you pinned and at his mercy; even if you were to break free, there's no way you'd get to your family in time to warn them.

Your train of thought is broken by the feeling of his thick digits pushing past your entrance and butting against that spongey spot you'd never been able to find on your own. As he presses against it, a muffled moan flows from you, and slick begins to pour from your core. "Well, well, well. Looks like you're a lot more agreeable than I'd thought you'd be.", he hums while pumping his fingers into you at a steady pace. You shudder at the growing tension in the pit of your stomach, and it only grows when he starts nipping at your shoulder blade.

More whimpers and moans are pulled from you as he continues working you towards an orgasm. You know you should be screaming or crying, doing everything in you power to get away.  But as his pace quickens you find yourself rutting back against him shamefully. That same shame makes you wetter and wetter with every single sweet nothing he whispers into your ears. It's all too much and too quick for your still waking body and the tension in your tummy crescendos. Your body spasms beneath his larger one, your vision blurs as tears of pleasure leak from your eyes. Broken moans tumble from you as you cum on the fingers of your attacker, only drawing away from him as you near overstimulation.

You shudder as the fingers are removed from your cunt, leaving you gaping and exposed to the cool air of the night and hungry eyes of a predator. Your body tenses in anticipation causing you to curse yourself for the twisted sense of excitement blooming in your core. The sound of a belt unbuckling meets your ears, and you clench around nothing, pulse skyrocketing as he begins to speak. "Usually, I'd prep you a little more, get a good taste of you. . .", he trails off while pulling his member free from his pants, "But I don't think I can wait any longer.". Slowly, he drags his tip between your glistening folds, breathing becoming unsteady as he presses it into your entrance.

Had his hand still not been over your mouth, the sound you'd just made would've woken the entire house.  Fat tears roll down your cheeks and onto his hand as you struggle to stay still. Every insanely thick inch being pushed inside you makes you think you'll be split in two, every vein along his shaft becomes acquainted with your walls to further spike the sudden increase in stimulation. After a very long while, he bottoms out, pelvis flat against the swell of your ass. He wastes no time setting a quick and rhythmic pace.

Yandere!Best Friend who fucks you through the pain of being stretched past your limits and into mind numbing pleasure. Wanton, muffled moans fill the air along with the lewd sound of skin contacting skin.  Your attacker moans whorishly into your ear making butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach. "You feel so fucking good, such a sweet girl for me.", he praises and your walls flutter around him. He curses under his breath at the feeling, slowing to a grind so that you're forced to feel every inch of him intimately. After a few more long and languid thrusts, he gradually picks up speed until you're afraid your bed might start creaking and wake someone.

The new cadence is brutal, but you try and match it. Any sense of shame, humiliation, or fear you'd felt earlier is gone, all thoughts silenced as your brain prioritizes cumming on his cock. One particularly wild thrust causes his hand to shift, a few digits slipping into your mouth. You welcome them with an enthusiastic suck, moaning and deep throating them like a whore. A breathless chuckle just barely registers in the back of your mind, too busy sucking and getting railed into oblivion to fully acknowledge it.  "Who knew my pretty girl was such a slut, huh?", he groans into your skin, "You're gonna drain me dry pretty soon.".

The sound of his voice, the taste of his skin, and the drag of his cock against all your most sensitive areas culminate to push you over the edge and you come hard. Your eyes roll back into your head, only allowing you to see stars, and your body trembles. Waves of slick pour from your cunt and you can feel his pace falter as he, too, begins to lose himself inside you.

A string of curse words tumbles from his lips as his balls tighten. Shaky breaths and choppy moans fill your room, masked by thunder, as he paints your velvety walls white with hot ropes of thick cum. The warmth filling your tummy draws a shiver from you and you feel his seed begin to trickle from your cunt with each new spurt pumped into it.

After a second, he stops cumming and pulls his softening cock from your spent pussy. You want to turn over and get a good look at him as he redresses himself but the fatigue of being destroyed quickly overtakes you. Your vision blurs in and out of focus as he dips down to kiss your forehead, turning to open your window once he has. Without another word spoken, he disappears into the night. The disappointment of being unable to see his face and confusion as to whether or not you'd imagined this entire night blooms in your brain, but unconsciousness subdues you before they can further subdue you. It doesn't really matter that you hadn't been able to see his face tonight anyway.

This wasn't the last time he'd be visiting you.

◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

HxH: CHROLLO, HISOKA, ILLUMI, Shalnark, Pariston

JJK: GETO, GOJO, SUKUNA, MAHITO, YUUTA, Naoya, Noritoshi

Solo Leveling: TAESHIK, DONGSOO, BARUKA

Demon Slayer: GYUTARO, KARAKU, UROGI, DOUMA, Enmu

LADS: Predator Zayne, PREDATOR CALEB, Predator Rafayel

YOUR FAVE

[mossangelll]

Late Night Call

pervy man x innocent reader blurb

a/n: change of pace from my usual arcane fics, i was thinking about some anime boys and well…yeah

been a while since i’ve watched some of these animes so i’m hoping my picks aren’t too ooc than they already are >.>

enjoy ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

cw: dubcon, noncon, nsfw - mdni 18+

his call comes late at night, rousing you from sleep when you hear your ringtone going off.

“o-oh, hey? what’s up?”

your voice drips like honey, so sweet and slightly rough from being woken up and he just knows you’re rubbing sleep from your watery eyes, none the wiser to what he’s doing on the other end of the line.

he tells you he’s feeling…ah, under the weather and he just needed a friend to talk to but don’t worry if you’re tired! he would absolutely hate to disturb you and he’s already lost too many friends from talking about his feelings.

needless to say, he’s got you hook, line and sinker. he won’t even be doing much of the talking.

easy prey.

his hand palms over his rock hard dick, it’s been that way since the mere idea of this popped into his head, as he listens to you chatter away about something he couldn’t care less about; he isn’t even trying to hide his breathless panting and the non-stop wetness of his dick, sloppy with precum, thrusting into his tight fist. the tip throbs an angry red as he holds back his release again and again and again just so he can continue getting off to your cute voice.

at some points, you ask him if he can hear some noises too and for a moment his heart stops and he wonders if you’ve caught him red handed.

but then he remembers that it’s just you, coddled and blissfully unaware of the sin that surrounds every aspect of life, so all he has to say is that his tv is on in the background and you’re back to talking again. perfect.

his blood is pumping red hot as his strokes grow uncoordinated and even more furious than they were before and he finds himself fighting the urge to ask you what you’re wearing. no that’s too much, too soon, so he instead chooses to bite down on his lip until the taste of iron fills his mouth. a small price to pay.

“helloooooo still there?” you call out after ten minutes of him being seemingly unresponsive, assuming he’s finally managed to fall asleep. you don’t bother to end the call, after all you know how comforting it is to sleep with your friend still on the phone after a bad day.

he imagines shoving his dick into your wet mouth mid-sentence, cock growing impossibly harder at the mental sight of your surprised face, you gagging because you’re unaccustomed to a dick his size - scratch that, any dick and all the debauched things he would teach you.

eventually he hears your gentle snores, of course you fell asleep before the main event, throwing his head back and grunting way louder than he did before knowing you definitely won’t be waking up. his chest heaves and legs shake from the orgasm that overwhelms him and he almost ends the call from the guilt rising inside of him - almost. but then he catches sight of his thick cum splattered right where your contact photo was and his cock twitches as if he didn’t just come seconds ago.

good thing you didn’t end the call; he decides he can have a little more fun with (or without) you - he still feels a bit under the weather, of course.

——————————————————————————

tomura shigaraki, dabi, takami keigo, togata mirio, kai chisaki, l lawliet, kei tsukishima, koshi sugawara, kenma kozume, satori tendo, yuji itadori, satoru gojo, denji, chrollo, hisoka morrow, shalnark, katsuya serizawa, reigan arataka

masterlist

[moechies]

rrr the yummiest threesome with phinks and shalnark <3 head so fuzzy about big cock phinks pulling your little white panties to the side for easy access to that plush little cunt, and having no remorse despite your little cries of how big he is and how it hurts. and shalnark <3 he’s so baby and yes .. he does feel bad for you in the slightest so he helps to satiate the pain by suckling at that pretty little clit and jerking himself off. he can’t have a pretty lady in even more stress than phinks has bestowed upon you …

ʚ♡ɞ

“stop squirmin’ around…” phinks grunts, readjusting your leg previously propped up onto his shoulder. he tugs at your hips, nudging himself impossibly deeper against your plush walls. “p—phinks!” you mewl, chewing down at your bottom lip to halt your cries. your nails drag down against his bicep, eliciting a hiss.

“fuck,” phinks sighs, peering down at the sight of your swollen cunt swallowing him whole. “t—this is the shit.” the brute grunts, thumbing at your folds and tugging the sticky fabric further to the side.

“no kidding.” the blonde man besides you grins, meeting your teary eyes with a soft hum. “so good for us, girl. mhm.” shalnark hums, pressing down harshly at your clit. “s—shal..” you drag out a whine, a subconscious beg for mercy. “s’—s’mean..”

“mm, it’ll be okay.” he assures with a hum and a soft peck to the tip of your nose. “doing so good for us already. hold out a little, yeah?” he presses a gentle kiss across your eyelids, blocking your view off from the perverted sight of his right hand reaching into his pants. your eyes flutter open anyway — especially when you hear a soft groan fall from the plush lips of the man.

“hnn !” you’re caught off guard by a harsh thrust to your cunt,

“little thing, you best not forget who’s fucking you here just ‘cause shal’s sweetmouthin’ you.”

“s—sorry!” you whine damn sweetly, making phinks scoff.

you’re damn pretty. phinks wouldn’t admit it out loud — shalnark would though — but your pretty little body, the back pliant against the snow sheets, the front against the two men, a gorgeous gleam of sweat painting your soft skin — you’re a perfect little thing. he’s sure shalnark’s thinking the same thing.

he continues his mean strokes to your cunt, humping sloppily against your plush thighs with load groans. you reciprocate with soft whines and hiccups, mewling loudly when you feel warm, sticky balls slap against the fat of your ass.

“fuck, wan’ taste.” shal groans from besides you — removing his thumb from your clit and wasting no time before replacing it with his plush lips. your back arches almost painfully, a shrill squeak elicited from your lips when he suckles meanly at the bundle of nerves, humming against the sensitive flesh. you don’t miss the way the mattress recoils gently from shalnark’s mean pumps to his heavy cock — lewd swipes across the dewy slit of his cock head to soothe the ache. “so shweet,” shalnark whines, “like sap or hh..honey..”

“y’rarely c—cuss, shal. pussy’s got ya in a chokehold?” phinks hisses, not missing the new angle he’s fucking you at after your sudden arch. with another brutal thrust, you feel phinks’ pudgy tip browse across your cervix, causing a loud yelp. “p—phinks h.. hurts!”

“my bad, pretty lady. i can’t say s’all my fault though, y’r asking for it with a damn pretty body like this.” phinks hums, hips stuttering and growing sloppy as his pace quickens. shal’s losing himself too — moaning endlessly around your abused clit — accidently swiping his tongue over where you too connect. “s—shal, damn pervert.” phinks growls, and shalnark only whines in response.

you feel your pussy flutter around the man, stomach aching and yearning for release. “p—phinks, shal.. gon’ cum, gon’ cum, please!” you hiccup, pretty manicure etched into his forearm. “phi—phinks, help me..”

“you got it pretty lady.” the man huffs, pressing his shaft wholly deep into you with no remorse. shal does his job effectively as well — softly nibbling at your clit and that does it.

your pussy clenches endlessly around phinks’ aching cock, slathering the shaft in warm white cream — the two returning the favor. “fuckin’ choking him,” phinks grunts as he cums his thick, viscous spent into your worn cunt, so much that it drools from the sides when he pulls away even in the slightest.

you whimper at the loss from inside, and even shalnark’s detachment from your clit. you turn your head slightly to meet the boy’s cerulean eyes, met with lidded eyes and blushed cheeks. you peer down and don’t miss the viscous nut that coats his hands and dirtied the cloth of his pants —

spiders spin webs after all. ♥︎

[bwabys-scenarios]

Yanderes who have never known a gentle touch. Their life has been full of hardship and heartache, always wondering when they would be hurt next.

Or better yet, a yandere that once knew love and gentleness, only to have it ripped away and be deprived of it for so long they forget that kindness and a soft touch still exists, and isn’t just something that is used against them.

Both types struggle with how to deal with you, especially when it comes to punishments. Because of how harshly they’ve been treated, they think the strict punishments they give you are a kindness, gentle and loving. They don’t know how to be soft, how to love without hurting you.

It’s when they see the fear they have felt at the hands of those who wished to hurt them reflected in your eyes that they realize that they are not gentle. They aren’t soft, they aren’t sweet.

But they want to be.

Desperately.

——————

SUKUNA|| TOJI|| SUGURU|| FEITAN|| ||ILLUMI ||CHROLLO|| SHALNARK|| OBANAI|| SCARA|| LEVI|| YOUR FAV

[eery-lir]

hello! could you please do nsfw headcanons for hxh chrollo, feitan, shal, and phinks, where their favourite place to cum is? inside or on their s/o?? please and thank you!!!

Paint It White

Chrollo, Feitan, Shalnark and Phinks x AFAB!Reader

Chrollo Lucilfer

He's prefer to cum in your pussy, but understands if you don't want that.

Instead he'll cum on it, and all over your thighs. Then he'll take great care to get between your legs to lick you clean.

Feitan Portor

He prefers to cum in your mouth or on your chest.

Fei makes it as messy as possible and always makes you swallow his jizz. Don't expect him to clean you up if it's on your chest though.

Phinks Magcub

Loves to cum all over your ass and back, smacking your thigh and then rubbing the jizz into your skin.

He's so nasty, he'll collect it on his fingers and have you suck it off sometimes.

Shalnark

Begs to cum in your pussy, he gets pouty about it and will find reasons to make sure his cum gets up inside you.

Even if he cums on your pussy, he'll just finger it up into, hoping it takes and that you'll get pregnant. (baby trapping mother fucker)

[eyesofbong]

A Chrollo x F!Hunter Reader Fic | Summary

Best advised to be read in dark mode. AO3 link coming soon!

★ 18+ MDNI WARNINGS: descriptive murder, burning of corpses, torture?, arson, slight implication of attempted suicide, gore, blood, violence, strong mentions of sexual abuse towards children including human trafficking, implied kidnapping, perversion of innocence, predators, CP, and implied rape. (NO I DO NOT ENDORSE THE ABUSE OF CHILDREN. it is only briefly mentioned since it is disgusting to keep the story realistic and strictly used as awareness since this is actual problems in the real world they don't just kidnap children. I WILL NEVER! write about non-con with underage characters or children, rape, and assault.) ★

☆ word count. 8.9k (sheeeesh had to hold back on somethings)

✥ Chapter Summary: Lost in the shadows of your despair, haunted by memories of the children you once saved, you find yourself drifting further from your purpose. But when a call from Chairman Netero breaks the silence, you're pulled back into a world you thought you'd left behind, drawn into the unknown for one last round — for the sake of saving a young man from making the same mistakes you did. ✥

The church was still, bathed in the soft glow of flickering candles. You remained in the pew, feigning prayer, while your mind wrestled with turbulent thoughts.

But before you found yourself here, in this quiet sanctuary, there was a journey—a path that led you back to the world you had once left behind.

“You can’t save them all.”

The words echoed in your mind—a truth you had grappled with for most of your life. So why was it so hard to accept that cruel reality? Why did you live your life the way you did? Most people would argue that they wish they had your power and skills. But they didn’t understand. They couldn’t comprehend the burden that came with such strength.

Why would anyone want to carry that weight for so long?

Power is a double-edged sword. If you aren’t corrupted by it, you’re crushed beneath its weight. How easy it is to destroy rather than create.

You often wondered why Netero had chosen you that day. What did he see first—the helpless child who had lost everything or the Hunter who would grow into his greatest soldier?

You trailed behind the men, each step leading you deeper into the belly of this vile place. They had no idea you were not one of them, no clue that every word you spoke and every move you made was part of a carefully laid trap. The air around you was thick with malice, a foul concoction of despair, fear, and predatory intent.

Since taking the head of your family’s killer, there has been a void in your heart—one you filled with vengeance.

But now, you had a new purpose: to use your power to hunt down the worst of humanity, like this network of mafia traffickers.

Suddenly, your senses sharpened. You heard it—a soft, muffled cry—the children.

The group leader, a man with greasy hair and a twisted grin, laughed. “You hear them, little rascals?” he sneered, gesturing ahead with a perverse pride. “Got a fresh batch of chicklings just yesterday. Innocent, full of life... worth a lot more in certain markets, if you catch my drift..."

A wave of revulsion swept over you, but you kept your face steady, fighting internally the burning in your throat.

Sick bastards. That’s all they were to you. There was nothing more vile than preying upon children, tearing away their innocence, and selling their pain.

Once, you had believed killing was always wrong. But when faced with monsters like these, death seemed like the only solution.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right, Mistress?” The leader’s voice was thick with expectation, his beady eyes studying you for any sign of weakness.

You met his gaze with a cold, calculated, calm one. “The price is no problem, but I’ll need to see the ‘quality’ of the children you speak of to ensure they’re worth it,” you replied, playing along with his sick game. He grinned, his yellowed teeth bared like a predator sensing victory.

“Of course, my lady, right this way,” he said, gesturing for you to follow him up a rickety flight of stairs.

As you ascended, you noticed the tapes scattered on the floor—stacks of them carefully labeled and arranged. Your heart sank at the sight. You knew exactly what they were: recordings of abuse. Child pornography is waiting to be sold and distributed. Evidence of what these children had endured and what they were being forced to relive in the most horrific way possible.

Images of small, terrified faces pinned to the walls, some in tears, others with expressions frozen in fear, burned into your mind. You forced yourself to keep moving, to keep your eyes forward, your face blank. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to lash out, but you had to stay focused. You had to see this through.

When you reached the top, he led you to a door and pushed it open with a creak. Inside, the children were huddled together, wide-eyed and trembling. At the front stood a small boy with big gray eyes—"The runt." of the group. His clothes were torn, dirt smeared on his cheeks, but there was something in his gaze—a spark of defiance that hadn’t yet been snuffed out. The other children seemed to hover protectively around him, even in their weakened states.

“Well, what do you think of these little lambs?” the leader asked, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Aren’t they precious?”

You glanced at the children, your heart aching. For a split second, your gaze softened when you saw the small, porcelain-skinned boy, his eyes locked onto yours. He seemed to sense something in you, something different. You took a slow, steady breath, and without moving your lips, you mouthed, “I’m here to help.”

The boy’s grip on the bars loosened slightly. Hope flickered in his big gray eyes. You could feel the children’s fear and desperation mingling with a fragile thread of trust. They were so small, so fragile, yet somehow still fighting.

“They are precious,” you murmured, your voice taking on a steely edge. “But not in the way you’re thinking.”

The men’s laughter faltered. They sensed the shift, but too late. You moved swiftly, raising your hand. A wall of stone shot up from the ground, separating the children from their captors. Panic spread among the men as they scrambled for their weapons, but you were already moving.

With a flick of your wrist, a vine extended from the stone wall, and in its grip, a sword was handed to you. The blade flashed, slicing through the air. In one swift motion, you severed their hands before they could draw their guns. Blood spattered against the walls, and the men screamed.

“You crazy bi—” one of them began, but his voice was cut off as you grabbed his face. Nen flames flared from your palm, melting his skin. His screams turned to a hideous, gurgling cry as you slammed him against the wall, against a picture of him touching one of the children.

“My flames are nothing compared to the ones you’ll face for eternity,” you said, your voice cold and unwavering.

"THE DEVIL! YOU'RE THE DEVIL!" he shrieked, his voice cracking in terror.

“YOU’LL GO TO HELL TOO!” another screamed.

You tilted your head slightly, unbothered. “I know,” you replied calmly. “And I’ll be right there with you... to make sure you suffer.”

With a final, furious surge of nen, you let the flames consume him, his body twitching as the fire took hold. One by one, the men fell, their screams swallowed by the inferno of your rage.

The air thickened with the stench of burning flesh, but all you felt was a calm, cold satisfaction. You took a deep breath, letting the fire die down, leaving only smoldering ashes behind.

The floor was now slick with blood, staining everything it touched. You closed your eyes and focused, drawing on your nen, the energy that flowed through your very being. You felt a ripple within yourself, a gathering of moisture in your veins, pulling towards your fingertips. With a single thought, you summoned it forth.

20%

A small, shimmering blob of water began to form, hovering just above your palm. It glistened with a faint blue hue, infused with your nen—your life force flowing through it. The water was more than liquid; it was an extension of your will, a manifestation of the purity and cleansing you desired.

You moved your hand slowly, and the blob expanded, reaching toward the crimson stains that pooled on the floor. It touched the blood, and a strange, almost serene reaction occurred. The nen-infused water seemed to drink up the blood, absorbing it into its depths, turning it from a crystalline blue to a dark, murky red. It quivered and shifted, gathering every last drop, until the floor was clean.

Once it was done, you flicked your wrist, and the blood-tainted water dissipated into steam, evaporating into the air. The scent of iron and smoke faded, leaving behind only the faintest whisper of moisture.

You turned to the vine still hanging from the wall. “Take the corpses to another room,” you said softly. “I don’t want the children to see this.”

The vine extended, wrapping around the charred remains and dragging them away, leaving the room clear. You watched it go, feeling a pang of sorrow in your chest. “I’m sorry, Mother,” you whispered, “but someone has to purge the evil, right?”

The vine nodded as if in understanding and vanished into the shadows.

With the room now clear, you lowered the stone wall, allowing the children to see. They were still huddled together, wide-eyed, trembling, but there was a new light in their eyes—a glimmer of hope.

You kneeled, using a tiny flame to illuminate the room gently. “You’re safe now,” you said softly, your voice switching to a delicate tone.

The small, marble-eyed boy stepped forward. His hand slipped into yours, his grip surprisingly strong for his size. “You back came for us?” he whispered, his voice shaking but resolute.

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently, a warm smile breaking through your hardened expression. “Always.”

The children began to move toward you, timid at first, then with growing confidence, their small hands reaching out, seeking comfort. For now, at least, they were safe.

And you would make sure it stayed that way.

It was mostly your funding that kept the orphanages in Meteor City from crumbling. Your money was funneled into the broken, forgotten corners of the city where children like Chrollo and his friends sought refuge. You couldn’t always be there, but when you were, you made it count—your presence, your touch, your attention. That was the difference, wasn’t it? You had to put your wealth somewhere, after all—unlike Ging or Pariston, whose fortunes seemed to disappear into the wind, chasing their whims. For you, though, Meteor City had become an escape, a place to atone for the things you couldn’t control.

But it was more than duty, wasn’t it?

Chrollo had bonded to you in a way that you hadn’t expected. The other children admired you, but he worshiped you. His innocence clung to you, unsettling and infectious, dragging you into a world where, for brief moments, you almost believed you could be more than just a Hunter. That you could be someone who stayed.

It was one of those quiet, unguarded moments when you found yourself in Meteor City again, his small, frail body curled up against yours on his bed, his head tucked beneath your chin as if he could melt into your very being. His face pressed into your chest, and his small hands clung to your shirt as if you were his entire world.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice soft, pleading. His wide gray eyes blinked up at you, still so full of that childlike adoration that made your chest tighten painfully. He didn’t understand—how could he? He was too young, too innocent.

You combed your fingers through his shaggy, jet-black hair, pretending it didn’t hurt to hear him ask. Pretending it didn’t make you feel like you were betraying something inside yourself. The glow from the window—the familiar golden light of dawn—signaled your impending departure. Mother Nature, it seemed, always knew when it was time to pull you away. You would have to leave again. You always left.

But not yet.

“Okay,” you whispered, the lie slipping from your lips like it always did. “I’ll stay.” You tucked his head back against your chest, hoping to drown his fears in the safety of your embrace. He felt so small compared to you, so fragile. You held him tighter, but no matter how tightly you cradled him, you knew it wouldn’t be enough. You couldn’t stay.

He sighed, his words soft and filled with frustration. “I wish you were just a normal girl. Not the Great Hunter. They always take you away from me.”

The weight of his words crushed your chest. You swallowed hard, burying the guilt and sorrow that always surfaced in these moments. He was just a boy, after all—a boy who didn’t know what it meant to live a life like yours. His love was simple, innocent, and untainted by the reality that you could never be what he wanted you to be.

He sighed again, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s not fair. You’re just a kid like me, but it’s like... you’re not. You’re stronger, taller... you have magic. You’re not afraid of anything.” His sleepy eyes blinked up at you, half-lidded, his gaze lingering on your face as if you were the only thing keeping him from falling asleep. “You’re so cool, Y/N.”

You forced a smile, your heart aching with every word. How could he say these things so easily, not knowing the storm they stirred within you? You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be feeling this pull toward him, this unbearable conflict between duty and something else—something darker, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I want to be strong like you,” he continued, his voice fading as sleep began to pull him under. “Then I’ll be the one to save you.”

You let out a chuckle, though it felt hollow. “Oh really? I can’t wait to see you try.” Your voice was soft and gentle, as if you could keep him safe from the weight of your feelings. But even as you spoke, your gaze lingered on his longer than it should have. The way his eyes—those innocent gray eyes—held yours made something inside you crack. You didn’t want to look away.

And yet, you had to.

As Chrollo yawned, his body slowly relaxing into the warmth of your embrace, your heart clenched in that familiar, bittersweet way. You knew what was coming next—the moment when he would fall asleep, and you’d have to leave. You always left. He knew it too, even if he didn’t say it. His eyes fought against the sleep pulling him under as if staying awake would keep you there just a little longer.

You should go. You needed to go. But instead, you held him close, brushing your thumb along his cheek, tracing the outline of his pale face. He murmured something so soft, so quiet, you almost didn’t hear it.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart shattered.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t respond. How could you? What could you say to that? You weren’t supposed to feel this way. You weren’t supposed to let it hurt. And yet, his innocent words cut deeper than any wound you had ever known.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you cradled his face in your hands, letting the silence fill the space between you. Your mind and heart were at war, clashing violently as you tried to convince yourself that you felt nothing for this boy—nothing beyond duty, beyond the role you were meant to play.

But his words lingered. His love lingered. And it was killing you.

Only you could carry this burden. You had to ensure that you were the last shepherd, even if you were just a broken saint now.

And when he called, you would answer, no matter how much time had passed since that harrowing incident.

Isaac Netero’s familiar contact flashed onto your phone just as you returned to your quiet estate. The grand home, surrounded by vast lands, had become your sanctuary—where time seemed to stand still. Bamboo trees swayed in the wind, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite hear, and the rustle of leaves was like a lullaby to your broken spirit. This land, untouched and isolated, had become your refuge. Here, you could pretend the world had forgotten you, just as you had tried to ignore it.

You rarely needed to leave; everything you required, you grew with your own hands. The earth was rich and forgiving; the bamboo was tall and kind, your only companions, as well as the critters that inhabited the land, your only solace. They tried to aid in healing your scars, though they only made the loss more bearable. They connected you to reality, keeping you grounded and pulling you back from the edge whenever you felt yourself slipping away. They depended on you as much as you did on them. 

But even Mother Nature, with all her quiet persistence, couldn’t fill the gaping void left by your loss. She could only make the emptiness more bearable, less suffocating.

You had given in to the silence, but she hadn’t given up on you. Yet the moment Netero’s contact appeared, the corpse of your heart couldn’t help but beat with a retired purpose you knew you could no longer fulfill.

Still, your hands, worn and deft, quickly picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear.

“Y/N L/N. Think you have a chance to talk, my dear?”

His familiar, softened gruff voice was a reminder of how time had aged him, even though he had left you with so many unanswered questions. He was still your father in many ways.

But you were now Netero’s little fallen general.

“I’m here,” you replied, your voice a ghost of itself, as if unused to forming words meant for anyone else. “It's good to hear your voice. I would ask, How have you been?”

“I am well, Father,” you cut in, a weary undertone threading through your words. “Trying to keep the ground from swallowing me whole.”

A heavy silence fell between you, a shared history that neither of you wanted to address hanging thick in the air. Netero sighed, his voice dipping into a tone you had not heard in years—gentle, almost pleading. 

“Y/N…”

You remained silent, unyielding, waiting for him to continue.

“Listen to me, just this once,” he started, but you interrupted again, sharper this time, like a blade cutting through the fog.

“My nen is gone, Isaac," you said, each word deliberate and hard. "There’s nothing more to that story. There is no Master of the Hunters anymore.”

The silence that followed was colder, heavier. You could almost hear him wince at the use of his first name, a name you rarely called him. You knew it hurt him—that it stripped away the façade he liked to wear around you.

He hesitated, then took a deep breath, his voice laced with quiet desperation. “I'm not asking for her to listen to me,” he said carefully. “I'm asking for you, Y/N.”

Your gaze drifted to the bamboo outside, watching the stalks bend and sway in the wind. There was a part of you that wanted to hang up, to let the silence consume you once more, but another part—a faint, barely alive spark—kept you on the line.

“There is a young man,” Netero continued, “who is the spitting reincarnation of you."

Your chest tightened, the ache spreading like a slow poison through your veins. You swallowed, but it felt like shards of glass in your throat.

Netero’s voice softened, almost as if he were trying to soothe a frightened child. “I know I pushed you to retire early, and for that, I am sorry,” he confessed, his words heavy with regret. “I couldn’t bear the thought of what might happen if the wrong people found out you had lost your nen. But this boy—he needs someone who can show him the way. Someone who can give him a chance to choose a different path. A scent he can follow.”

He paused, the weight of his words settling into the air between you. “None of us can do that.”

A flicker of frustration sparked within you, threatening to crack the numbness you had wrapped around yourself like armor. You closed your eyes, the familiar heaviness of duty pressing against your chest. "Why... why do you always drag me back, Isaac?" you murmured, your voice almost devoid of emotion, a whisper lost in the wind.

“Because,” he replied softly, his voice steady but filled with quiet insistence, “you lost your nen, but you didn’t lose everything. I couldn’t save you from your fate... but you can save him before he makes the same mistake.”

For a moment, the world outside seemed to be still. The bamboo stopped swaying, the wind held its breath, and even the critters paused their quiet movements. Everything waited for you to decide whether you would let yourself be pulled back into the life you had tried so hard to leave behind.

A slow exhale escaped your lips, and your grip tightened around the phone. Maybe it wasn’t about saving yourself. Maybe it was about saving someone else—just one more time.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally whispered, knowing you were already halfway convinced.

Netero's sigh of relief was almost inaudible, but you felt it—a soft echo in your chest. "That's all I ask," he said gently. "Just think about it."

And with that, the call ended, leaving you standing alone in the quiet of your sanctuary, the wind picking up again, the bamboo swaying once more.

For the first time in a long time, you felt the stirrings of something beyond emptiness—a faint, fragile thing that might have been hope.

You let yourself fall back against the mat, feeling the familiar, frayed edges pressing into your back. Your phone lay loosely in your grip, screen dark, but its weight still anchored you to the moment. You stared blankly at the stone pond before you, the water still and silent under the overcast sky. But inside, that gnawing feeling had grown stronger, louder, and more insistent. The doubt and emptiness you had tried so hard to bury now surged to the surface like a wave, threatening to swallow you whole.

Then you saw her—the familiar, ethereal form rising from the pond—"Mother," your nen-made spirit, tilting her head at you, trying to read the emotions you kept so tightly locked away. Her shape shimmered and wavered, the liquid surface of her body catching the dim light, reflecting a thousand tiny, dancing fragments of your surroundings.

“You’re cruel...” you muttered, not bothering to lift your head. You didn’t need to see her to know she was there, watching you with a concern you could not bear. The water spirit hovered closer, her presence radiating a gentle insistence. A wave of water reached out, almost like a hand, and as she moved, droplets broke away and splattered onto your face. The cool water trickled down your skin, obliging you to finally look up and meet her gaze.

Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her form, the way her edges seemed to blur and tremble, told you everything. She was worried. She is always worried. Especially when you have attempted to end your suffering...

Seeing her like that... It only made the ache worse. It plagued you and gnawed at you like an open wound. You hated it. You hated feeling like this—so useless, so empty. Once, you had been so certain of your place in the world, so sure of your purpose. You had moved like a blade through the darkness, cutting down every evil in your path. You had saved countless lives and fought battles that others had deemed impossible. You mattered.

And now... now it felt like all of that was gone. Stripped away the moment your nen vanished. When it had left you, it had taken everything with it. Your sense of self, your purpose, your reason for being—it had all crumbled to dust, leaving nothing but a hollow shell behind.

"Quit it," you muttered, your voice low and tired. "I'm not in the mood."

But Mother didn’t listen. She never did. Instead, she moved closer, her form rippling like a soft wave, the water elongating until it seemed to reach across the space between you. With a sudden, playful motion, she curled around your feet, a cold grip tightening around your ankles. Before you could protest, she yanked you off the mat, dragging you across the ground.

“Really?” You groaned, exasperation flaring. You knew what she was doing. She was trying to wake you up, to stir something inside you. “Cut it out, Mother.”

She didn’t respond. The water around your ankles tightened, and with another tug, she lifted you upside down, your hair falling toward the ground. The blood rushed to your head, and you blinked, momentarily disoriented. For a moment, you dangled there like a rag doll over the pond, your feet held aloft by a watery tendril.

You found yourself staring directly into her face—or what passed for a face—her liquid eyes focused intently on you, unblinking, unwavering. She was demanding your attention, forcing you to look at her to confront whatever was buried deep inside. The silence stretched between you, filled only by the gentle slosh of water moving with every slight motion.

“I said quit it,” you repeated, a hint of irritation in your voice. But she didn’t budge. Her expression seemed almost stern. The water droplets that made up her body shivered slightly, as if she were speaking a language only you could understand.

Mother’s form shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her head tilted again, and for a second, she almost seemed to frown. The water that held you up began to twist and turn, slowly spinning you in the air as if examining you from every angle. Her touch was cold, but there was something else there—something gentle, almost comforting, beneath the chill. She wouldn’t let you hide from this. She wouldn’t let you sink back into the darkness you’d been wallowing in for so long.

“Quit it, Mother,” you muttered, voice strained, but there was no real fight in your tone. You were too exhausted to fight her, too tired to do much more than dangle there, your heart heavy and your purpose frayed.

Mother, ever persistent, moved the water around you in a swirl, as if shaping something from the depths of her core. You felt a coldness, a thin sheet of water sliding up to your face, and then you saw it—your reflection mirrored perfectly in the water.

But Mother didn’t stop there. Slowly, deliberately, she turned the reflection around.

Your eyes widened as you caught sight of your own back and your skin. The large, red Hunter symbol emblazoned between your shoulder blades, stark against your flesh, with the L/N family symbols woven underneath, bearing the phrase that had once given you strength:

"No child left behind." 

The words, so familiar, stared back at you with a cruel clarity. Your vow, your creed. The promise you had whispered to yourself a thousand times over, in the darkest nights, in the quiet moments of despair. The very words you had once tattooed onto your skin were like armor against the world.

Your breath caught in your throat. You tried to look away, but Mother twisted the mirror slightly, making sure you couldn’t escape it.

The reminder was as sharp as a blade, cutting through your excuses and your self-pity.

You were The Great Hunter, not because of the nen you wielded, but because of the promise you had made. Because of the innocent you had sworn to protect.

Mother watched, her watery eyes soft but firm, refusing to release you until the weight of that reflection settled back into your bones.

You sighed, a long, tired exhale, and for a moment, just a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the ache of that old purpose stirring within you.

She stared back, unyielding. Her watery surface rippled slightly, as if in response to your unspoken thoughts, and you felt a tear prick at the corner of your eye. A tear you quickly blink away. The silence stretched on, filled with everything you weren't saying—filled with all the things she knew you didn’t want to admit.

You sighed, feeling the fight leave you, your shoulders slumping. “Fine. Fine, you win,” you said quietly, feeling defeated, but in a way that almost felt like relief. She had always been there to stop you from corrupting yourself, always pushing you, always forcing you to face the things you wanted to ignore. And now, as much as you hated to admit it, you needed her to do it again.

You felt her release your ankles, and for a moment, you simply stood there, breathing, your heartbeat slowing, the cool air biting at your skin. She hovered closer, her watery hand reaching out as if to touch your face, but she hesitated, just a fraction of an inch away. You stared into her eyes, feeling something inside you break loose like a dam giving way.

You hated this... You hated feeling like you were nothing. Like you were just a vessel for the person you used to be.

Your Nen was gone, but you were still here. That gnawing, insatiable need to matter, to make a difference, was still there, burning quietly beneath the surface.

You took a breath, your fingers tightening around the phone still in your hand. "Alright," you whispered, almost to yourself. "Alright, I'll do it."

Mother seemed to shimmer, her form brightening slightly as if she were smiling. Her droplets swirled around you, a gentle, swirling dance of liquid light like she was encouraging you, cheering you on.

Your thumb moved over the phone screen, almost of its own accord, and you found Netero’s name again, hesitating for just a heartbeat before you pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice, and then his voice came through—calm but expectant as if he had known you would call back.

“Y/N?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, steeling yourself, and then spoke, your voice steady. “Where is he?”

You stepped off the airship, choosing to take a more grounded approach this time. It had been so long since you walked among society; today, you wanted to feel the earth beneath your feet and hear the noise of life all around you. Normally, you would have flown in on Khan, your Seraphrid—a creature resembling a winged horse, only larger and more formidable, a loyal companion since your youth. But today felt different.

As expected, Khan had already beaten you here. His sleek, black form stood tall among the trees, his six powerful legs moving with an elegance that defied his size. His head was turned in your direction, and the two long, string-like antennae that served as his natural bridle extended, sensing your presence. They wrapped around your arm, their touch gentle but firm, syncing with the veins on the underside of your wrist. The bond was immediate, an ancient connection that required no words.

With a familiar pull, you mounted him, his raised hoof serving as a stepping stool, an unspoken offer only the two of you understood. You clicked your tongue softly, a signal you’d always used, and he responded with a low, rumbling neigh that resonated through your bones.

Khan didn’t need instructions. He read your intentions through the link you shared, feeling the subtle shifts in your thoughts and emotions. He began to trot into the dense forest, guided by your thoughts alone, the rhythm of his steps matching the cadence of your heartbeat.

Netero had informed you that the young man, the one you were to meet, was training in these woods. He had given you the young man’s contact information, though he had been elusive with any real details. When you had pressed for more information, Netero had only chuckled, his words tinged with mystery: “You’ll see...”

Typical of him to leave you to uncover the truth on your own, to dig up the bone yourself, like always. As Khan weaved through the thick underbrush, you found yourself wondering about this boy. What was it about him that had made Netero reach out to you after all this time? What was so special that it warranted pulling you back into this world?

The dense forest began to thin, opening into a sun-dappled clearing. Khan slowed to a gentle canter, his antennae twitching as if sensing something ahead. You felt it too—a presence, quiet yet intense, like a heartbeat echoing through the trees.

This had to be the place. As you dismounted, Khan’s gaze remained fixed forward, his body tense and alert. You patted his side, reassuring him, and he relaxed slightly, though his eyes never wavered from whatever lay beyond the clearing.

You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar stir of curiosity and something deeper—something that felt like the whisper of purpose reigniting within you. Stepping forward, you moved into the clearing, ready to meet the young man Netero had sent you to find, ready to face whatever awaited you on the other side.

You dismounted slowly, your feet sinking into the damp earth as the coolness of the soil crept up through your boots, grounding you in the present moment. The clearing before you stretched wide, dappled sunlight breaking through the thick canopy above, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, a living, breathing presence around you. Khan stood tall beside you, his powerful form coiled with restrained energy, his antennae twitching in tune with the undercurrent of tension that rippled from you like a stone dropped in water.

Ahead, the low murmur of voices reached your ears, punctuated by the rhythmic clack of wood striking wood and the sharp rustle of leaves disturbed by quick, deliberate movements. You moved forward slowly, cautiously, each step bringing the sounds into sharper clarity. As you reached the edge of the clearing, you paused, taking in the scene before you.

Two figures moved with practiced grace, their forms entwined in a dance of combat, their bodies speaking a language of strength and discipline. One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, had a presence that radiated intensity and control—Izunavi, a hunter you had known from years ago. His sharp, unwavering gaze and the calm precision of his movements marked him as a hunter, one who had taught countless others the art of survival.

But it was the boy who drew your attention.

He was younger than you had imagined, his golden hair catching the sunlight like a halo, his eyes narrowed in concentration, a fierce determination burning in their depths. His posture was taut, muscles coiled and ready, every motion calculated and precise as he mirrored Izunavi’s steps, his gaze never faltering, never leaving his mentor for even a heartbeat. His body moved with the grace of a predator, but there was a tension there—a rawness, a desperation that was almost painful to watch.

So this was Kurapika.

Your breath caught in your throat. It was like staring into a ghost, a specter of who you had once been—a younger self, with that same consuming fire, that same drive, that same reckless need to prove something to a world that had never shown mercy. You recognized the look in his eyes immediately. You had seen it in your reflection, in the faces of those you had saved and those you had failed. The beast of burden lay heavy in his gaze, the weight of vengeance familiar darkness that seemed to clutch at his very soul.

He was still a child. Just as you had been—a child thrust into a world too cruel and too vast, carrying a burden too heavy for shoulders so young. You lingered in the shadows, your heart tightening in your chest, a sense of foreboding curling in your gut. Finally, you decided to step forward, your presence pressing through the air like a ripple in still water.

Izunavi’s movements stilled. He sensed you first, his eyes flickering toward you, his expression a mask of calm neutrality, though you saw the faint recognition behind his eyes. His stance eased, a subtle acknowledgment. Kurapika followed his gaze, turning to face you, and the intensity of his scrutiny hit you like a blow—a look so piercing it seemed to strip away layers, searching, demanding answers before he even spoke.

“Master,” Izunavi greeted, his tone respectful but carrying a hint of something harder beneath. "Netero told me you might be dropping by."

"Y/N," you corrected, voice soft but firm. Each syllable felt heavy in your mouth, burdened by the memories of your past. You inclined your head slightly, stepping fully into the clearing, moving with purpose, though a knot tightened in your stomach. "It’s been a while, Izunavi," you said, your voice sounding almost foreign to your ears. "I see you’ve taken on another pupil."

Izunavi nodded. "One with a special kind of determination," he replied, a note of pride softening his otherwise stern demeanor. He glanced at Kurapika, who stood like a coiled spring, ready to snap. "Kurapika, this is Y/N L/N—once known as Master Hunter, The Great Hunter, the Hound of the Hunters… too many names to count."

Kurapika’s eyes widened slightly at the sound of your name. Recognition flickered across his features—his expression shifting from curiosity to something deeper, something darker. You could almost see the thoughts racing behind his gaze, the questions forming, and the curiosity and anger mingling in a storm of emotion.

Netero had left you a note from the first examiner of the 287th Hunter Exam: "Kurapika Kurta said he wishes to become a Hunter to exact revenge on the Phantom Troupe and seek aid from the Master Hunter." The Phantom Troupe, a name you had only heard in passing, a whisper of a threat, a gang too small to matter back then. But now, seeing Kurapika’s face, you realize how much had changed and how much you had missed.

“Where were you that day?” Kurapika’s voice was low but steady, each word laced with a simmering rage that seemed barely contained. "I read stories about you... Master Hunter, the one who made crime vanish like mist before the sun. When my people were slaughtered, I didn’t fear, because I knew—you would come. You would hunt them down for me."

The pain in his voice was like a knife twisting in your chest. “I waited years for you! Held onto that hope until I had no choice but to become the hunter I needed.”

His voice cracked, but the fury within it did not waver. "You let them walk this earth after what they did to me... to my people." His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white, his breath ragged. And then you saw it—the flash of scarlet behind his gray contacts, the burning rage of his clan's curse, the anger and grief all mixed into one volatile storm.

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard against it. The weight of his accusation bore down on you like a physical force. In your absence, the world had shifted and twisted, and you had been powerless to stop it. You had lost your Nen that day, the day you had lost everything.

That’s why you weren’t there.

The same beast of burden now latched onto him had once latched onto you. You had failed him, and his words cut deep into whatever was left of your fractured soul. If only you had known... If only you had hunted them when they were small, a mere whisper of a threat. If only…

But you hadn’t. And now you were facing the result of that failure.

Your silence hung heavy in the air. You felt the burn in your eyes, the sting in your throat, and the weight of every decision and every choice you had made that led to this moment. There was nothing you could say to erase the pain in his eyes—the sense of betrayal that seemed to radiate from him like heat.

Kurapika's expression hardened, his jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing to slits. “I need justice,” he said, his voice colder now, like a blade drawn against a stone.

You drew a deep breath, fighting against the rising tide of emotion within you. “Justice is a fine line, Kurapika,” you replied quietly, meeting his gaze with a steady resolve. “And revenge can blur it until you don’t know which side you’re on.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with a mixture of fury and something deeper—something fragile and almost broken. He turned away, shoulders tense, his footsteps heavy, as if carrying the weight of the world on his back. A part of you wanted to reach out, to stop him, to pull him back from the edge. But you knew better than to force it. He had to find his way, just as you had.

“Kurap-” Izunavi began, his voice edged with concern, but you raised a hand, silencing him. Your eyes remained on Kurapika’s retreating form, watching as he disappeared into the trees, swallowed by the shadows.

“Let him go,” you whispered, the words barely more than a breath. "I’ll talk to him later... once he’s cooled off."

Izunavi hesitated but finally nodded, trusting your judgment. You stared into the forest where Kurapika had vanished, the weight of his words still heavy on your heart. You knew that if he continued on this path, it would lead only to more pain and more loss. You weren’t sure you could bear to watch someone else descend into the same darkness that had swallowed you whole.

You had to try for his sake and yours.

“How far is he in his Nen?” you asked, breaking the stillness. Izunavi turned, his expression solemn.

“He's a determined, quick learner, but he’s already made those terrible vows for his Nen ability. It’s been five months since he started, and he’s planning something for September 1st.”

Next month, you thought. Not much time. “Is it related to the Troupe?”

“Positive.” Izunavi’s response was immediate; his voice edged with tension.

You sighed deeply, feeling the familiar heaviness in your chest. Another lost child, another soul standing at a precipice. The memory of the children from Meteor City flickered in your mind—those small, eager faces filled with both mischief and hope. Even now, you could remember the way they looked up to you, their eyes wide with wonder and something more—something like belief.

Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks—all those troublemakers who had once felt like yours in some way despite being the same age. You had often wondered where they were now, how life had treated them, and if they had stayed on the path you had hoped for them. Maybe, when all of this was over, you’d find them again. Just to see. Just to know.

Izunavi’s voice pulled you back. “His vows are monstrous, Y/N. I don’t know what he sacrificed, but his chains are still out of control. He’s powerful, but he can’t command them yet.”

“Chains?” You repeated, an eyebrow arching in surprise. “That’s his ability?”

Izunavi nodded gravely. “Yes. He wants to bind the spiders to hell with them.”

A small, amused laugh slipped past your lips, as that did sound like something he would say. Then your expression turned serious. “Izunavi… I’ve lost my Nen. If I decide to teach this boy, will you be my eyes?”

Izunavi blinked, momentarily stunned, but he quickly nodded, his gaze steady and filled with a new understanding. “I will,” he promised softly. “But... are you ready for this?”

You took a breath, the weight of your own words settling within you. “I wasn’t Netero’s best hunter just because of my Nen.”

You could still feel Nen, even Mother’s Nen whenever she came to you, like a whisper at the back of your mind, a gentle reminder of the power that once flowed through you like a river. You hadn’t lost your instincts—if anything, losing your Nen had sharpened them. It was like losing a sense and gaining another. You could feel things now, in ways that other Nen users couldn’t—like sensing the shift in the air before a storm.

Izunavi hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice a little softer, a little more unsure. “Y/N, you can do it? Teach him? With your Nen gone…?”

You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “I can.”

Izunavi seemed to consider your words, then nodded again, more firmly this time. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be your eyes.”

Your gaze drifted toward the direction where Kurapika had stormed off, your thoughts tangled with the past and the present. You knew the path he was on—you had been there yourself once. And you didn’t want Kurapika to stain his hands as you had stained yours, even if it was for what you believed was “good.”

If you could help him find another way—if you could keep his hands clean, you would. You were willing to stain yours all over again for the sake of keeping him from the blood that had already marked too many lives.

You had to operate in his shadow. Teaching Kurapika while also trying to beat him to the Phantom Troupe would be no easy task—especially if you had to do it behind his back. There was still so much you didn’t know. The years you spent disconnected from society left gaps in your knowledge. You couldn’t deny it, and the thought made you clench your fist. At least you could still rely on the physical strength of the L/N bloodline—but even that might not be enough. What if the Phantom Troupe’s Nen abilities were stronger than you anticipated? If they were all together, no matter how much experience you had, they could easily overwhelm you by sheer numbers.

What if you couldn’t protect Kurapika? The thought sent a shiver up your spine.

This was a mess just waiting to explode.

Izunavi watched you quietly, sensing the shift in your mood, the old scars being reopened, and the new purpose forming in your heart. You felt the stirrings of a familiar resolve—a quiet, burning fire that refused to go out.

“Let’s start now,” you said, meeting Izunavi’s gaze with a calm but determined look. “We have until September 1st. I won’t let him fall.”

You followed Kurapika as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. Shadows lengthened, and the woods grew quieter, the sounds of the day's creatures giving way to the night’s. You had given him time—enough time, you hoped—for his anger to cool and for his heart to steady. But you knew that the embers of rage didn’t die so easily; they could smolder for a long, long time.

You found him near the lake, sitting against a tree with his knees pulled up, his blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight like threads of gold. He stared blankly ahead, lost in thought, his face a mask of quiet resolve. You watched him for a moment from a distance, letting your presence be felt without imposing yourself. You knew words wouldn’t be enough—not yet, not for a boy with a fresh wound.

Slowly, you made your way toward him, moving carefully and deliberately, leaving space for him to turn you away if he chose. He didn’t look at you, but he didn’t push you away either. That, in itself, was something. You took a seat beside him, leaving enough distance between the two of you to let him feel unpressured but close enough that your presence was felt. You let the silence stretch, understanding that sometimes it was the only thing that could truly speak.

After a while, you finally broke the silence, your voice soft, almost tentative. "You want to hunt the Troupe, right?"

Kurapika didn’t move at first, his eyes still fixed on the water. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but resolved. “I don’t have a choice.”

The words hung between you, heavy with finality. You have heard that before, spoken in different ways by different people. It was always the same. A choice made in desperation, when the soul felt trapped by the past, by the need to correct something that could never truly be fixed.

“You always have a choice,” you replied softly, your tone neither reprimanding nor coddling. It was simply a statement of fact.

Kurapika shifted, his hands tightening around his knees. “Not when it comes to this. Not when it comes to them.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, studying the lines of tension etched across his young face. He was still so young—too young for this kind of rage to live so deeply inside him. But rage wasn’t something that cared for age, wisdom, or even reason. You knew that better than anyone.

“They took everything from me,” he continued, his voice harder now, laced with bitterness. “Everything. My family, my home, my future. I can’t just let that go!”

You exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh that was lost in the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. “Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting,” you said gently. “It doesn’t mean forgiving either. But this path you’re walking... It’s not just about revenge anymore. It’s about who you become at the end of it.”

Kurapika’s eyes flicked toward you then, sharp and wary like he was expecting a lecture he’d heard a thousand times before. But you weren’t here to preach.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you clarified, your gaze still on the water, the gentle waves reflecting the dying light. “I know that’s not an option for you. But you need to be careful, Kurapika. Rage has a way of consuming everything in its path. It’ll burn through you if you’re not careful. Until there’s nothing left of the person you used to be.”

He was silent for a moment, absorbing your words. The tension in his body hadn’t lessened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, perhaps. Or maybe it was understanding.

“I can control it,” he said, his voice quieter now, but the determination in it was unmistakable. “I have to.”

You nodded slightly, acknowledging his resolve. “Control is important. But you also need balance. Power without purpose is dangerous, even to yourself.”

Kurapika frowned, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Purpose? My purpose is to kill them.”

You turned to face him fully then, your eyes locking onto his. “And after that? What happens when they’re gone? What’s left for you?”

The question caught him off guard. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. For a moment, the hard façade he had built around himself seemed to crack, and you saw the lost boy beneath. A boy who had lost everything and didn’t know how to live without his hatred to guide him.

“That’s why I’m here,” you continued, your voice softening. “I’ve walked this path before. I know where it leads. If you’re not careful, you’ll reach the end of it and find that nothing is waiting for you on the other side. Nothing but emptiness.”

Kurapika’s hands slowly unclenched, his fingers tracing the edge of his sleeves as if grounding himself in the present moment. He didn’t say anything, but you could see the conflict in his eyes.

You reached out then, gently placing your hand on his shoulder, a rare gesture of comfort. “I’m not saying this to stop you,” you said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “But I am saying you need to think about what comes next. After the bloodshed. After the vengeance. What will you be left with?”

Kurapika lowered his head, the weight of your words sinking in. The silence stretched between you again, but this time it wasn’t filled with tension. It was a moment of quiet reflection.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice barely audible.

You gave a small nod, squeezing his shoulder lightly before pulling your hand back. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know yet. Just... don’t lose yourself in the process.”

For a long moment, Kurapika didn’t move, his gaze fixed on the ground, deep in thought. When he finally looked up, there was a new clarity in his eyes, though the fire still burned there, too. He wasn’t ready to let go of his vengeance, but at least now he was starting to see the danger in letting it consume him completely.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than before.

You nodded again, satisfied for now. It was a start. He would need time to fully understand what you meant, but at least the seed had been planted. And as much as you wanted to protect him from the pain of the path he was walking, you knew he had to walk it for himself. All you could do was guide him along the way.

As the last traces of daylight disappeared from the sky, you stood up, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Come on,” you said, offering him a hand. “Let’s head back before it gets too dark.”

Kurapika hesitated for a moment before accepting your hand, pulling himself up to his feet. He stood beside you, his gaze lingering on the horizon for just a moment longer before he nodded, turning to follow you back toward the camp.

As you walked side by side, the soft sounds of the night surrounding you, you couldn’t help but glance at him, the weight of the future heavy between you both.

The journey was far from over...

© eyesofbong. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarize my work. If you see this content on any account that is not mine, please report it. My work is only available on this platform and on AO3 under the name @eyesofbong

[rotten-pomegranate]

hi!! would you be down to write headcannons of phinks/shalnark/feitan with a crybaby reader?? like, the reader will cry at any minor inconvenience 🥹🥹 thankss!!

This got home bc I’m a cry baby

Warnings: smut, Dacryphilia, Feitan is mean, blood, sadism, yanderish, abuse(?), Noncon/dubcon in shalnarks

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Feitan

He’s annoyed by it, why are you so weak, why can’t you control your emotions under the most basic of situations, why do you stub your toe and start tearing up

He doesn’t know why he’s with someone pathetic like you, in his mind he uses you to make himself feel superior, in reality he’s attracted to the feeling of being needed by someone

Having you who come to him for comfort when your in distress satisfies something in him only you have managed to do

So defenceless against the real world, such a soft thing shouldn’t be left alone to fend for yourself

He doesn’t think your a good fit for him but he’ll never leave you or let you leave him, what if you accidentally see him kill someone, not to mention I f you ever see him working, all the blood, the gore, your heart wouldn’t be able to handle it

NSFW

I’m bed if different then I’m day to day life, in bed It stokes his ego; he loves knowing he’s overwhelming you to the point of tears, even if it’s It hard

Not to mention how soft and sweet you look when you tear up and just look up at him, plaint and wanting to please him when you can barley think makes him feel wanted in way he’s never felt

If your not in tears by the end of the night he wasn’t successful, he either under simulates you to the point your crying and begging him to move faster, go harder, just touch you a little bit, or he overstimulates you to the point your crying and begging him to stop, feeling so much pleasure your delicate mind can’t take it and you just have to let you emotions free

Either way your gonna be crying

Phinks

He loves it, loves that someone with such a soft heart chose to love him, with all his flaws you still love him

He loves being your knight in shining armour, coming to save you from any and every situation or person that dares to make you cry regardless of how easy it is, regardless of it wasn’t intentional, the person has to pay

Having you around makes him feel manly, you see a bug and it made you tear up, let your big strong boyfriend come get rid of it for you and when he’s done you can praise him for helping you

He loves having someone around that’s always gentle with him no matter the circumstances, your his safe space and he wants to be yours

Nsfw

He doesn’t try and make you cry you just do, he’s to big, to fast or not fast enough and your biting your lip trying to hold in your tears as to not turn him off

Little do you know, no matter how much he hates it, your crying kinda turns him on, seeing someone you love shed tears shouldn’t have his dick swelling in his pants the way seeing you cry does

He doesn’t wanna stop when you start crying, if anything it makes him wanna speed up, go harder, make your tears fall faster

The aftercare will be great though done worry

Shalnark

He likes making you cry, tormenting you tot the point of tears is one of he favourite activities

He doesn’t like when outside sources make you cry though; how dare anything but him bring tears to your eyes

If you not cracking under the emotional pressure he moves onto physical, pinning you down and biting all over you neck with such force you just can’t hold back your sobs anymore

It feels like he’s one a game every time he succeeds in making you cry and you still go to him for comfort despite him being the reason for your discomfort

NSFW

Another one who likes you crying, he doesn’t slow down, if he isn’t turned on enough when you two get started he started pinching or biting you until your face is wet enough for his dick to get hard

If your mood has been killed by the borderline abuse it doesn’t really matter because if he wants you he’s gonna have you, by all means cry, it only gets him going

He loves blow jobs while your whimpering and sniffling the whole time, loves getting good grip on the back of your head and forcing his cock all the way down your throat

You make him feel so powerful, he’s never letting you go

[evorawrites]

Look at Me

Tw: Shalnark x reader, stalking, spying, masturbating, talk of kidnapping, hidden camera

1.6k words

The mission was over as fast as it started. It was straightforward and easy, the way he preferred. A nice chunk of money for a quick job. It had only taken him a few days to travel, do the job, and return. Coming back in time to watch his favourite little program.

Shalnark unlocked his house door, stepping into darkness. It was good to be home, nice to be back in the comfort of his home. Throwing his bag onto the floor, he headed towards his office. He could always unpack later. Right now, he only required one thing: his little program.

Opening his laptop and powering it on, Shalnark sat back in his chair. Excitement coursed through him as he watched the black screen light up. He typed in his password and waited to see the system turn on. Lighting up the screen was a video of a room. It contained a couch against a wall facing a TV. A coffee table was between the two, littered with some books—signs someone had been there recently.

Click

The box beside the larger one showed a separate room. This was clearly a kitchen, a table, and two chairs pushed into the corner. A fridge beside some counter space and a stove. The counters were empty and clean. No one was there.

Click

The next room was a bathroom, empty once again. The bedroom was the only one left.

Click

There was the subject of his chase, you. Sprawled out on the bed, lying on your stomach, scrolling on your phone. Shalnark watched you lying there. He hadn't seen you the last few days while he was off. Oh, how he missed this. He felt like a deprived animal, finally getting the meal it had been refused for days. His mouth watered. He treasured these moments with you. These brief periods of peace. Watching as you moved around your apartment. The way you went about your activities and routine. The way you sat on the couch crisscross. How you moved around your kitchen, listening to music as you cooked. The way you always jumped at the temperature of the shower, never learning your lesson of waiting outside the shower till the temperature was right. Or, like now, how you kicked your feet as you laid down. Shalnark found himself entranced with you. Falling for you over the months, he had been watching you. How could someone be so cute and innocent? You had no idea he was here, watching you in the dark. Enamoured with everything you did. You were clueless, just like the day he saw you.

Shalnark replayed that day. It was the first and last day he had actually spoken to you. He was out on a mission. A simple theft job of some artwork from some old millionaire. He had gone with a few troupe members. All he needed to do was get into the security system and find the blueprints for the house. Help create a smooth entrance and exit without drawing too much attraction. The job took barely an evening. While the others left, he stayed behind. Why not enjoy this cute little town? Stay for a few days, eat some good food. Shalnark decided to give himself a little vacation. A little vacation where he met you.

He had been out experiencing the uniqueness of the town. Taking in the architecture, the people, and the small shops. Entering them and enjoying the displays. One had a display of some puffer fish art and toys. He thought it was amusing how the suncatcher in the window had a puffed up fish with these wide eyes. Every day he walked past it to give himself a laugh. That was when he noticed, beside the store, was a coffee shop.

Ordering, he grabbed his drink, and he found himself a seat near the window. Watching as people shuffled in, out and about. Some sitting down and enjoying their drinks. Others hurry in and out. He enjoyed this, people watching, unwinding. Everyone was so different, living such a different lifestyle than him. So simple, so safe, so weak.

Shalnark laughed to himself. Thinking about how these people go along their day without anything interesting happening. They didn't have nen, they in reality had nothing. That was until you walked in. It was the second day of his little "rest." The coffee shop had the usual bustle when you walked in. At first, he didn't take notice too much. Sure, you were cute, but he wasn't here to flirt. He just wanted to relax and laugh at the shop windows.

You came in like anyone else. You sat down at a table and worked on your laptop like anyone else. Yet, after a while, he found himself having a hard time looking away. You looked so focused doing whatever it was you did. Making these faces he thought were cute. So focused, so intuned with what you were doing. Like the rest of the world was fading away. He admired that. He understood being into your work. You didn't even look up when the idiot a few tables down spilled his drink and let out a yelp. Your head still down, working away. How oblivious you were, it really wasn't safe. Someone could approach with ill intention so easily before you noticed.

Shalnark's mind began to wander. How close could he get before you looked up? How much danger would need to be around before you realized? If someone fell in front of you, would you look up then? He wasn't proud of how much mental space you took up, yet here he was. Thinking about some random girl in a coffee shop. A cute girl in a coffee shop.

That was how it started, small little thoughts that just spiraled. One became two, two became four. Thoughts on what would make you look up. Wondering how he could get your attention. It wasn't until the third day that he finally decided to give in. To allow himself to indulge in some of his thoughts. Turns out all he had to do was turn on his charm to get your attention. Smile, flatter, joke. Your smile was so pretty. The way your face glowed when you laughed at his joke. The scrunch in your nose when he made a bad but amusing joke. How you opened up so easily to him. It was fun having someone like this. He knew he had you after that day.

Sadly, he had only managed to get two coffee dates with you before Chrollo had requested his presence. He'd be lying if he said he was happy to leave. You had just become his new little play thing, his favourite little toy. Something controlled in a different way than his other toys.

Here he was, watching you on the screen. Laughing, enjoying life. Shalnark hated to admit he was getting upset that something besides him was pulling those gorgeous noises from you. Throwing his head back in his chair. The memories of the coffee shop flooded his mind. Shalnark pinched his nose, going over all those beautiful memories. The sounds, the jokes you two made. The way you would look at him, a complete stranger with so much enjoyment. His free hand began to make its way down his torso, undoing his belt. This was so wrong, so very wrong, but since when did he give a shit about right and wrong. He was a thief and a murderer, a phantom troupe member. What was right was whatever he wanted.

His hand was wrapped around his dick. Pumping like a depraved madman. Fuck, he missed you. Missed your beautiful smile. How you trusted him so much, a total stranger. You had given him your number after a few hours the first day. So foolish and cute.

He looked at the computer. You were still there, still on the bed kicking your legs. His eyes dragged across your body, from your head to your toes. The way your shoulders were pirked up as your forearms supported your upper body. The arch in your back made his mind race. Would you arch your back for him?

Shalnark began to move his hand faster. The way you displayed yourself on the screen, settled on your bed. Without a care in the world. You had no idea someone was watching you. That he had cameras all over your apartment to monitor you. To watch you eat, drink, get dressed, shower. He wanted to watch every little detail of your life. To observe how you lived. It was so different than his. You had the same day every day. Work, eat, rest, repeat. A sense of stability that was boring to him, but fun to watch.

Would you like some change? How would you react if your work had less stability? Would you travel with him for his work? His mind raced once again. Picturing you with him. Him coming back from a job to you waiting for him instead of an empty house. Waiting with your back arched just like now, warm, welcoming. His hand moved quicker, rougher. His breath picked up. He couldn't help the noises that left his lips. Moans of your name. Wanting, begging for you. He wanted you here, needed you here. You should be helping him, not his stupid hand.

Shalnark let out a cry of your name as he came. Watching as his cum spilled over his hand. Taking a moment to collect himself. Wiping his hair from his face that was plastered on with sweat. He looked back at you on the screen. Still in the same position. Laughing and relaxing. Oblivious that Shalnark just came to you. That he was planning your life together.

[vanillinwrites]

yandere phantom troupe - make you mine

nsfw, warnings for dub-con and non-con

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

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

Includes: chrollo, machi, feitan 

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

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

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

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

includes: shizuku, pakunoda, shalnark 

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

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

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

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

Includes: llumi, hisoka, uvogin 

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

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

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

[0asisbliss]

Shoreline

a/n: Still continuing this series with Uvogin. Sorry for any spelling errors!

Warnings: Gore, manhandling, choking, mentions of non-con. Dark themes. MDNI.

Parings: Yan!Uvogin x Gn!Reader

Subtitle: Offshore

Word count: 1.k

sum. Taken away to some beach is some people’s dream and full on fantasy, but when you’re locked away in some abandoned mansion on the seashore things can get very hectic especially with an apocalypse going on. On top of all of that you mourn your missing sister. Even in the middle of some deserted beach stuff can get scary, but that’s why you have Uvogin right?

Zombie description

He was your loving boyfriend. Protective but respectful of your boundaries. But ever since the virus broke out he's been a totally different person. He's aggressive, impatient, and stubborn to let you out. Most of the time you'd have to beg him to go out, and just get fresh air, but surprisingly today wasn't one of those days.

Here you are deep in thought, and wondering, wondering what would your life be like if you all of this stuff didn't ever happen would Uvogin still be the same loving boyfriend that he used to be, or would he eventually turn into this revolting, and possessive fuck that you've learned to hate now?

Uvogin enters the kitchen from your shared bedroom. Shirtless with his joggers hanging low he leans against the kitchen wall.

“Baby? Whatcha doing?”

You were washing the dishes from last night. Though you swore you had already did them. Something had been going on with your mind. You also felt sudden rushes of sickness at certain times. Memories of your little sister. You didn't even get a chance to go looking for her before Uvogin snatched you up, and locked you away here. You just can't stop thinking about her. Her smile, the way she smelt, her hobbies, her-.

"Baby." His voice is deep, and alerting.

“Oh uh just finishing up the dishes.”

Uvogin could tell by your tone of voice that something was bothering you. He couldn't say he enjoyed seeing you like this. He could tell that it was about Enora. Your little sister that went missing right before all of this shit started. He wished that you would just forget about her.

Uvogin came up behind you to hug your waist. You flinched at his touch.

Uvogin gave you whatever you wanted, and all you had to do was give him a blow job at least twice a week. He thinks he deserves more, and he knows he can just take whenever he wants (and he does), but he chooses to let you decide. And every single time you do exactly what he wants. Not out of love, but out of fear.

“Stop that and come and lay down with me will you? You know with all this shit going on I’m always out doing things to provide for you, and the least you could do is c’mere.”

You could hear a slight pout in Uvogin’s voice. You also knew what “come here” meant. He wanted to fuck you. It made you gag just thinking about not the sex, but the thought in this moment.

“Uvo? I think I just need some fresh air.”

You could hear him audibly grumble.

“Well alright. Just be back, don't go past the shore line alright?”

You gasped in shock, but only shook your head. You didn’t expect him to let you off so easily is he planning something? You quickly shook those thoughts out, and walked towards the door.

You nodded your head with a forced smile and walked out the door quickly closing it behind you.

Uvogin opens his mouth to utter “Don’t go past the shoreline.” But you were already gone.

Traveling through the lifeless beach, and your toes in the sand you feel the brisk air touch your face. For some reason it hurts, and you take a step back. A deep realization sets deep in your gut. You looked around and nothing was there like always, but this time it was different. The empty beach now started to settle down deep inside your stomach. You were never gonna leave this empty shell.

Your mind was bare, and undeniably worthless in this situation, so you stood there trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this situation. Not knowing where you could go, so you just walk. Remembering your sister's face. How young she was. She was just fourteen. She had hopes, and dreams just like you did. But even if she didn't go missing she'd probably be locked up with you in that shitty mansion or worse Uvogin would've killed her because never showed any interest in her.

Your mind is cloudy and blissful though your surroundings are different. The beautiful sound of waves starts to slowly ease your mind while you're unknowingly past the shoreline already. Tears begin to fall down your face. Your feet are now in the water, while you begin to move closer and closer to the waves. Something's calling you. The voice sounds oddly familiar. Enora.

"(Name).. I missed you so much! Come and give me a big hug, yeah?"

"Enora? Enora!" You ran toward your sister, or that is what it felt like in your mind. In reality you were walking. Very slowly at that.

The washing waves got stronger, and stronger as you moved closer and closer away from the shoreline.

A whisperer. Standing in the ocean was a whisperer that had created the sick illusion of your now dead sister. You also felt this long need to be in the water. You wanted to swim, and feel the water on your skin. To be with Enora. You crouched onto the sand and started to crawl into the ocean. Eyes deep in a trance, you felt the waves as a comfort in your undying situation.

Uvogin stares out of the window mindlessly searching for you. Once he comes to a conclusion that you are no longer in his vision he rushes outside. Yeah it was true there weren't any sickos out here. Shalnark had shared created categories of the zombies. It indicated that they couldn't swim.

As Uvogin ran out of the beach house down the sandy hill he searched mercilessly for you. Every time youturned a corner, and you weren't there his heart raced. That until he found you. There you were slowly walking into the ocean. Slowly walking into your death.

Uvogin sensed the whisperer's energy and quickly blocked out the whisperer's death illusion. Before he could kill the whisperer he had to get to you. He couldn't just let you die. He ran into the water and just before you succumbed into the deep hollowing darkness of the ocean, there he was. Grasping your waist, and dragging you back onto the sand. But you were unfortunately still under the whisperer's trance. You were using almost all of your strength to get out of his arms in an effort to get back to the ocean.

"Enora. Let go of me. What the fuck?! My sister's out there. Don't you see her?" You cried in his arms.

"No baby. Damn it, you don't understand, that’s Enora."

"It is." Somehow you got out of Uvogin's arms to point to "Enora".

Uvogin shook his head, and looked back at you.

Uvogin walked towards the whisperer in the water, and ripped its head clean off.

"Enora… What the hell is wrong with you?" You sobbed as you saw your "little sister's" head floating in the water.

"No. What the hell is wrong with you?' Uvogin's voice was laced with anger and disappointment.

He stormed towards you, and pulled you by your hair. He then tossed you onto the ground. He left you there for a couple of seconds just staring at you.

This was all his fault he should've never let you go out in the first place. Now you're falling for a whisperer's tricks, and talking about your dead-ass sister.

"You're such a idiot.''

"Y-You killed my sister you monster-."

Uvogin held you up by your throat, and looked you deep in the eyes.

"I just saved your ungrateful little fucking life. Now you're gonna have to repay me." There was this look on his face. He gave you this look every single time he wanted to fuck you, but this time he looked like he was starved.

He then dragged you back to your shared home, and gave you even more reasons to question why you didn't just drown yourself when you got the chance.

[shalscumbunny]

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

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

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

Phinks:

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

Uvogin:

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

Franklin:

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

Feitan:

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

Nobunaga:

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

Chrollo:

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

Hisoka:

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

Illumi:

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

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

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

[rotten-pomegranates-fics]

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.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Shaved or not? HXH characters edition

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: I just had the most random need to write out what their pubic hair looks like… it kind of helps characterizing them for smut later on. I may do this with the ADULT jjk characters as well.

warning: talking about pubic hair, misogyny in Illumi’s and internalized misogyny in Kikyo’s, suggestive content

Kurapika

For his partner:

Kurapika isn’t too picky, and won’t care if you shave or not. He does have a preference for unshaven pussy though, he’s not sure why.

Himself:

He keeps himself trimmed, but rarely shaves off all his pubic hair. It’s blonde, neat, and soft!

Leorio

For his partner:

He’s very loud about his preference for unshaven pussy, but won’t complain either way. Once he’s between your legs it doesn’t make much of a difference.

For himself:

He tries to keep himself trimmed and neat, but alas he’s a bit wild down there. His hair is a bit wiry, but not unpleasant to the touch.

Illumi

For his partner:

On one hand, he holds onto the stupid misogynistic thought that women should be hairless for their husbands, but on the other he really loves hairy pussy…… let’s just say he unlearns a lot of the things he’s been taught when he’s with you

For himself:

He shaves, waxes sometimes even. When you randomly catch him between shaving, his pubic hair is really soft!

Chrollo

For his partner:

Mmm… I think he has a preference for shaven pussy, but again I don’t see him as being particularly picky? If he’s feeling really needy he’ll shave your pussy for you. After all, it’s safer if he does it, he can see better and has much more precise hands!

For himself:

He shaves most of the time, but will go hairy if you ask. He likes to at least stay trimmed up and neat though!

Feitan

For his partner:

He will grumble if you talk about shaving, so let’s just say he definitely has a preference for unshaven pussy.

For himself:

He naturally doesn’t have a lot of hair, so he doesn’t have much of a choice. If you ask him to shave the little hair he has he will, otherwise he doesn’t have to do much maintenance(lucky)

Shalnark

For his partner:

PICKY!! He likes it hairy and will whine and pout when you shave. He’s only okay with you trimming it, and likes when you trim it into a little landing strip or a heart(he thinks it’s cute)

For himself:

He has soft, pretty pubic hair. He’ll occasionally shave or trim it, but otherwise he lets it grow wild.

Uvogin

For his partner:

Unshaven. He needs hairy pussy, and loves shoving his nose into your pubic hair to inhale your natural scent.

For himself:

His pubic hair is wild and wiry. He doesn’t shave or trim, but will do some light maintenance if asked

Phinks

For his partner:

He likes bald pussy, but will never state it. He’s just happy when he pulls your panties down and sees you’re freshly shaved for him :3

For himself:

He shaves, and maintains it pretty well. Probably subscribed to manscape 😭

Nobunaga

For his partner:

No real preference, he’s desperate for pussy so he’ll dive in face first no matter what. He does get a little harder when you shaved recently tho!

For himself:

Before he met you he just let it grow wild, but now that you’re having sex he keeps it trimmed. His hair is decently soft, if a bit stringy

Shizuku

For her partner:

She likes it shaved, but with a landing strip or cute pattern. She likes to nuzzle her nose into the little bit of hair!

For herself:

She keeps that thang bald. It’s just easier!

Machi

For her partner:

She has a preference for hairy pussy… but she’s another one that won’t complain either way. She just loves being between your legs!

For herself:

She keeps herself trimmed, but she’s decently hairy, and yes it’s pink! Soft too, like twirl your finger in it soft

Pakunoda

For her partner:

She has a very blatant preference for hairy pussy, and will tell you straight up that’s what she wants. If you want to shave, she won’t stop you though. Your comfort and happiness comes first.

For herself:

She keeps herself shaved, with a landing strip. Sometimes she’ll stop shaving and just occasionally trim everything to keep her pubic hair nice and tidy. It’ll never be wild, just know that.

Silva

For his partner:

He likes it wild and hairy… idk where illumi got the thought that women needed to be hairless from(wait yes I do, it was his mom)

For himself:

Also wild. He trims occasionally, but other than that his hair is decently soft and long

Kikyo

For her partner:

Bald. She believes women should shave their pussies! But… she has a secret preference for hairy pussy(it’s been suppressed)

For herself:

Because of her beliefs, her pussy is also bald!

Meruem

For his partner:

He has no idea about human norms, so he doesn’t even register that you can shave down there. He seems to have a preference for however he sees your pussy first.

For himself:

He doesn’t… have hair…

Knuckle

For his partner:

Unshaven! He thinks hairy pussy is hot, what can he say?

For himself:

He keeps himself neat and trimmed for his partner, how polite!