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stop dating mfs who bring out your survival skills

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you can’t heal cause you keep pretending u not hurt

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Reference; Introspection by Frank Somma

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Haiii!! :3

So i saw a tiktok and it was a girl who was at a concert and her bf was standing behind her caging her in and they were in the pit, sorry if i explained it bad 😓

But can you pretty please do something like that with hunter sylvester??

AWH OHMG I THINK I SAW THAT ONE

PLS LET ME KNOW IF ITS THE RIGHT ONE BUT THIS IS WHAT IM BASING IT OFF OF OKAY

Pit Princess❤️

Hunter Sylvester x reader OneShot

Sorry if this sucks I haven’t written in many months I think I forgot how to

After months of waiting, you and Hunter had finally gotten to see one of your favourite bands live. (Whatever metal band you want). You’d both spent the afternoon getting ready, making sure you look good. With your cute outfits, accessories, hair done, and maybe corpse paint if you wanna go that far. That night you went to the concert, and you were lucky enough to be in the front.

The concert went on, you against the barricade, enjoying the show and maybe even singing along if you can. You knew Hunter was behind you but you didn’t want to miss a single second of the show. The only actual hint he was still there was his rough hands on either side of you on the rail, and occasionally you’d feel his chest against your back.

“Are you sure you're okay here?" Hunter yelled over the sound of the band playing, his body pushed right against yours, the pit behind them shoving him into you.

"I'm great!" You answered, shouting to be heard over the music and loud fans.

Once the concert ends, everyone slowly leaves the venue. You turn to him as you’re walking out together. “That was the nicest crowd I’ve ever been in!” You smile and hold onto his arm as you walk.

“Nah, I was just being beaten half to death.” He smirks and you guys walk back to his car.

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So it’s currently 4 am idk if this is bad or not. I also stole the words from the comments of the tiktok but it works.

Sorry for not writing for many months I didn’t feel like it

LEAVE SWEET HOME REQUESTS IM BEGGING!!!!!!!!

SWEET HOME REQS!!!!!

PLEASE

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handkerchief

Aemond Targaryen / female Arryn reader

Summary: he's just down bad

Content: mentions of kissing and riding dick (very short), teasing, flirting, pathetic prince

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Aemond always said he hated simpering maids. At the yard when he was training, at feasts, at court, he hated them all. Hated how they’d giggled and batted their eyelashes at him. He would marry for duty, that was all. 

But then he saw you. You. Proclaimed as fairest in the Vale. And you were the same as all those maids. 

You had giggled, touched his arm, batted your lashes at him, and Aemond? He’s embarrassed thinking about it. He had flexed his arm, puffed his chest, given you a smile back. He was nearly as bad as the maids. Sometimes he felt like a bird prancing around, just to catch your attention. But the moment he saw you, all that embarrassment left his body, leaving only the desperate need to impress you. 

He was in the courtyard with Ser Cole, wielding his sword easily and attacking the targets. Sweat was glistening on his brow, his sword clanging loudly against the heavy wood. He was nearly done, ready to wrap things up and shower, when…

He looked to the side, noticing you. You were dressed in a stunning blue gown, your necklace glinting in the sunlight. You were gazing at him--no, not gazing. You were outright staring at him. You were taking in every inch of his body, from his strong legs to torso to his arms. Aemond swallowed, putting in some extra effort. 

And then you were approaching him. His heart was pounding, but not from his training session. Your walk was mesmerising as well, such grace and poise. You stood still at the edge of his training grounds, a soft, charming smile on your rosy lips.

“Good morning,” you greeted him sweetly, making Aemond lower his sword and slowly walk over to where you were standing. And then, to his dismay, he smiled back at you. “Good morning, my lady,” he greeted back confidently, evenly. He cleared his throat, telling himself the blush on his face was just from his exertion. 

You weren’t even the only lady there, Aemond realised as he tried to look around nonchalantly, there were multiple. But he only noticed you, your eyes drawing him in again.

“I see that you are training again,” you said, your head tilting a bit, and Aemond was certain you only did it to show off your elegant neck. “Aye,” he replied, “as a prince of the realm I must stay strong, be most efficient with the sword.” He watched as you batted your eyelashes, and he could feel the way he started standing up more straight.

“Oh, yes,” you agreed with him, “you must be most strong, your grace. I have seen many knights and swordwielders, also back at the Vale, but none of them seem to have your grace. Your strength,” you complimented him. 

Aemond looked at you for a moment, noticing the way your lower lip caught between your teeth. His gaze was drawn to it, and he imagined--not for the first time--how they would feel pressed against his. The thought of him kissing you sent a shiver down his spine, so he quickly suppressed it. Such thoughts were unbecoming of a prince--a dragon prince, no less. He was about to pull away, when he felt your warm hand rest on his bicep.

It was bold of you, very bold, to touch him. But he didn't pull away, not at all. He watched your fingers curl around it, your eyes shining with admiration. You pulled such an old move as well, one that had been attempted many times before. But with your honeyed words and impressed gaze, he felt himself preen. He flexed his arm--just barely--his muscle jumping beneath your fingertips.

And you’d gasped. 

Your eyes met his lone one again, your hand moving away from his bicep and wrapping around the hilt of his sword instead. “Do you think I could also be a great swordsman?” you asked him, your voice having a teasing lilt to it. Aemond watched with rapt attention as your smaller hand wrapped around his sword, a weapon standing for his great skill and strength, and felt a thrill going through him. The obvious answer was no, you would never become a great swordsman, but he simply wanted that smile of yours to stay in place. 

“Of course, my lady,” he said, moving closer and allowing you to grab the heavy weapon, “With training, and the right mentor… you could be formidable.”

He stood behind you, his body pressing against your back as he helped you adjust your grip on his sword.

“Like so,” he murmured in your ear, and he helped you move it around, swinging it gently. 

And then, you leaned your head back against his shoulder, your eyes staring into his as a smile curved on your lips. “Am I doing good?” 

He could feel your soft breath on his neck, and he had to take a moment to steady himself, remind himself to breathe. His eyes followed the line of your jaw further down, his gaze moving over the elegant curve of your neck before looking at your cleavage in your dress. 

Gods, you were perfect. He could just imagine you asking that same question when you’d ride him for the first time, taking his cock inch by inch as you whined at the stretch. 

“Am I doing good?” you’d ask in a breathless moan, and of course he’d say you were, forcing the last inches of his cock inside of you.

Aemond swallowed, before looking back into your eyes. 

“You are doing exceptionally well, my lady,” he finally replied, his gaze never leaving yours. You looked back at where both of your hands were holding the sword, and he leaned down so his lips grazed your ear. “I am sure you will be a skilled swordwielder in no time…” he nearly purred, sending a shiver down your spine. 

After a moment he stepped back, his hands sliding over your arms, down to your waist, before resting back at his sides. You handed the sword back to him, his fingers grazing yours. He checked the blade for a moment, using it as an excuse to steady himself, when his gaze fell back to you.

He watched as you grabbed your handkerchief, it being folded neatly in the bodice of your gown. He watched as you trailed your fingers over your breasts at first, drawing his gaze, before handing him the soft, embroidered cloth. 

“For you,” you said sweetly, innocently, “my prince.”

His breath hitched when he saw you graze over your breasts, a jolt of heat shooting straight to his core. He’d been with whores, with maids, but he could swear he had never felt as turned on as he did in that moment. 

He slowly accepted the gift, watching as you playfully bit your lip again. “Perhaps we should continue our lesson,” he said gruffly, “somewhere private.”

You laughed playfully, though he noticed the flush on your cheeks. “My prince!” you gasped, feigning offense, “I am a lady.”

“Of-of course,” he replied, clenching the soft cloth in his hand. 

You smiled, softly touching his hand before pulling away. “I hope to see you again,” you said to him, “my prince.” You bowed politely, before walking back into the Red Keep.

Aemond stood stunned for a long moment, replaying everything in his mind. Then, after what felt like ages, he set his sword back down, rushing inside.

He walked past his mother, Alicent looking confused. “Aemond?” she called out, “what is wrong?”

“I am to be married,” he replied, “tomorrow, if possible.” 

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“The Bitter Bond.”

A bitter bond created, after the alliance that Viserys had proposed, his wish to marry Daemon and Rhaenyra’s daughter, to his eldest son, Aegon.

Despite his eldest son’s nature, having being a natural drunk, both Viserys and Alicent agree that their son is in need to be settled with a woman, and perhaps a family of his own.

Will Aegon make that decision, to help create an alliance between both families, or perhaps Daerlyssa Targaryen, Daemon and Rhaenyra’s daughter, would prefer herself promised elsewhere?

…

the main character is aemond, yes. but as I said, perhaps daerlyssa would prefer herself promised elsewhere.

chapter 1

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I wonder if they’d be less evil if we just gave them cats

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Boss!Chrollo x pt member Reader

A/n: Reader has a nen ability to transform into other people! And they return to their self after an hour!

Being a Phantom Troupe member was always a very responsible and dangerous thing.

Especially being the leader of fearful criminals from Meteor City and all other places had always been difficult.

But who said Chrollo Lucilfer can't feel lust too?

He's a man with desires too.

Now, he's staring at you with eyes darkened with lust.

Let's go back to what happened.

Chrollo and you were on a mission, which required you to transform into him.

He was wearing a dark purple coat that had white fur on the collar and wrists, unbuttoned to reveal his muscular physique.

So after one hour he's staring at you, eyes fixed on your chest.

Surely, your breasts were visible, and his coat was oversized by now. Thanks to Chrollo, who doesn't button his coat.

Of course, you dragged him to nearby streets to change into your clothes back.

Let's just say... it ended up a lot later with both your clothes dirtier.

Oh, another stress added in Chrollo's life: hiding what happened between him and you.

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Just thinking about being foolishly in love with Chrollo Lucilfer.

When you two were both just teenagers, barely above 14.

His arms around your waist and yours around his neck, whispering sweet nothings to each other naively.

Meteor City wasn't the most romantic place to date, but it was still enough for you.

Dubbing together the tapes he had found from the trash, him giving you silly little flower crowns made by trash plant's flowers and reading to you in the evenings.

Sometimes, he'd wishper you the love phrases he read from a poetry book. Or you two would just sit together on the discarded old couch and watch the sunset.

Oh, who would've expected the boy you once loved would turn into a leader of the infamous Phantom Troupe? The same boy who used to graze your ear with his lips and made you blush all deep with sweet, romantic phrases.

"If I can't have you soon, I'll be consumed by the fire"

"Chrollo... we are just kids"

"Just kids? When I already started wanting to have one with you?"

A/n: Hey guys! Sorry for disappearing. It's been a busy week, phew. I know this isn't exactly a smut, but I was too delulu, but not enough to write a love poem. Not like I can write anyway lol. Well, hope you all enjoyed

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Train ride

Parings: Yan!Chrollo x Reader

•A/N: This story popped out of the side of my head.

Context: Running away was from him was the best option. It was clear that once he found you, you would never be able to leave again, so you had to make sure that would never happen. It wouldn’t right?

Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, Mentions of blood, etc. Sorry for any spelling errors!

2 months ago-

“Sweetheart? I’m going out again. Don’t wait up for me okay? Y’know what to do while I’m away right?”

You looked up at him from writing without any expression on your face you nodded without a word.

Chrollo really hated when you did that honestly it made him feel sad? Ever since he took you in it’s been like you hated him or something. Oh how he would kill to see the pretty smile of yours again.

How you would look at him with adoring eyes instead of the eyes have no emotion in the whatsoever.

As Chrollo left you took out a big sheet of paper with writing all over it. It was your plans of an escape. You needed to get out of this hell whole. It was risky. Chrollo obviously had eyes everywhere on you, and not just cameras. People in places that would catch you and bring you right back to him.

You need to carry it out and do it fast. You can’t afford to waste time either.

You waited till Chrollo got back home and to finally do what you needed to do. Everything was planned out all you needed to do was finally get the balls to do it.

You waited a couple minutes after Chrollo was sure enough gone to get your bags and start your venture. You started walking to preserve your energy. The train station was only a couple miles away. You could make it if you were fast enough. You had an advantage leaving at night. You were always on schedule with Chrollo. When he left in the middle of the night you would always be asleep. That’s exactly what he thought.

You went farther into the woods and after running a couple of more miles you finally reached the train station you didn’t predict the hoards of people being there. You would’ve thought at night it would’ve been that busy.

As you boarded the train there was only one passing thought in your head.

Will my plan be successful? Will my plan be successful? Will my plan be successful? Will I even live?

You knew Chrollo wouldn’t kill you, but there was always this weird glint in his eyes once he told you that he never wanted you to leave him.

There were times where he had you on his lap. Smoothing your hair back and kissing your forehead.

“Honey? Do you know how much I love you? If you ever tried to leave me I’m afraid of what I’ll do, but you should know I would never kill you. I couldn’t bring myself to do that.”

Though in that moment you wanted to die. It was pure humiliation with him. He had you on his lap infront of all of the phantom troupe. They’re the reason that you two broke up in the first place.

At first it killed you the way you wanted to separate from him, but it had to be done.

That mindset right there was the reason you were in this predicament in the first place.

It hurt you the most that, that was the most normal mindset one would think of. That’s what happens when you find out that your boyfriend is the head of the phantom troupe the deadliest, and most wanted group in the world.

Honestly when you found out you didn’t expect Chrollo to be so calm. It’s when you said that you were leaving. Now that was the last straw.

When you got on the train you look up at the night sky. It wasn’t pitch black like usual it was something about. It was a beautiful dark vivid blue with every little star. It made you smile. For the first time in a while you and smiled.

Instead of reminiscing you took some time to self-reflect on yourself. Looking at the bright side of things.

Now that you’re finally away from Chrollo you can do things you couldn’t have in that prison of a cabin he kept you in.

You went to dig in your bag to find your headphones. You found them and turned them on you took a phone you ordered not to long ago and listened to music to drown out the thought of Chrollo clawing at your mind.

You looked at the sky and the clouds were slowly moving. They kind of reminded you of jellyfish. This night was one to be remembered and cherished in the future.

A sweet moment. To finally get a taste of freedom-

Your thoughts were cut off by the train coming to an immediate stop. You and a couple of other passengers flung forward. Panic spun throughout your head. Your heart pounding and pulsing in your chest. You take off your seatbelt and grab your bag, a dart out the train. You knew this could only be one thing.

Chrollo found you.

Shit. You were almost there. You just had 3 more hours. 3 measly fucking hours. He couldn’t wait, and feed into your delusions? Asshole.

You were in the middle of nowhere at this point you didn’t know where you were as you run you hear a pair of footprints behind you. Then you hear multiple.

Shit, shit, shit. Did he bring the troupe?

As you look back and lost in your thoughts you bump into a tree. You hit your head and before you know it you’re unconscious.

Your head spins and your vision is blurry. Even though it’s dark outside you see sparkles in the sky, you still see the stars shining so bright.

The sky is still a beautiful hue of dark blue. And here you are the opposite. Laying on the ground about to fall unconscious and oblivious to the darkness, and voiding evil that’s about to consume you whole.

You wake up in a room. You aren’t in the cabin you’re sure of that.

“Honey? Your awake. Can you feel anything?”

As you open your eyes you can’t see him it’s spotty your vision is blurry, and your ears are ringing. You can hear him but it’s muffled.

“Your head was so bloody my love.”

Even though you could barely you could hear the venom in his voice. He was not happy.

Present time

Here you are still in this room. All he’s giving you is a blanket. You yearned for his touch every time he came back in the room for you.

It was to much you needed Chrollo you wanted to be under him 24/7. What were you thinking? Leaving him? Never again. If anything you need him now. You need to feel his gaze, and his touch. Wanted his attention more than anything. He barely kisses you now it hurt your heart. Once he finally lets you out again you swear never to leave him.

[gitikrait]

That was hilarious, man I feel bad for their lawyer. Imagine during at the trial.

Judge: Mr. Lucilfer, how do you plead?

Chrollo: Guilty as charged, your honor

Lawyer: W-What my client means is that he isn't mentally well

Chrollo: But I am mentally well

Lawyer: *whisper* shut up man

A/N: He would totally do this being unaware of what they were trying to do. Pt.1

Today was the day. 5 weeks of exhausting questioning. You were so tired and he had a 0.01 chance of winning this trail at that percentage was pushing it. You really wanted to get this case and dump it in the trash, but something kept you going. Maybe it was that they did bad things and maybe this was eye opening to them, and this would help them change their ways, but another part of you kinda wanted them to learn from their actions.

Chrollo was very hard to work with. He didn’t get the sneaky agenda very much even though he stole things for a living. He was kinda of one the “I understand but what do you mean?” kind of people. It was fairly annoying, but then again you could use this to your advantage. You had to in some way or you were getting no where in this case.

You gave a good fight at trail, but you knew that your verdict would depend on how you up turned the whole case.

“How do you plead Chrollo Lucilfer.”

“Not guilty your honor I am fully awar-.”

“What my client is clearly trying to say is that he’s been through a lot as a child as that is no reason as excuse for his actions but he’s not in his right mindset.”

“Shut the hell up” You mumbled to him quietly.

Chrollo looked at you shocked and oddly offended.

The judge was very confused.

“Well this case has left me tired, and quite frankly on the verge of quitting. It has come to me that you two are not quite ready for a verdict so this case is not finished the court will meet up again September 3rd 2024.”

You gave Chrollo a very dangerous side eye as the court officers lead him back to his facility.

You had 9. 9! More fucking troupe members to do. Maybe you should just give all of this up? Feitan was next you didn’t want to even to try. You didn’t even want to try for Feitan just imagine what type of shit he could say.

Today was Feitan’s day in court.

“How do you plead Feitan?”

“I’ll kill you.”

“N-No- see this is prime example of bad of condition my client is in I mean just look at the way he responded this isn’t the response of someone in their right mind.”

The judge felt a slight change in the atmosphere in which made him a slight bit afraid.

“Well I- uhm think this should stretch out a little longer. (Reader) you should have more evidence when we circle back to this case again.”

Maybe him playing crazy will get him a little farther into a smaller sentence if not that he should get a the insane card a be put into the local insane asylum and you can finally be finished with all of this.

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Imagine being the Phantom Troupe's Lawyer, that would be a pain.

A/N: This was going to be a oneshot then I got carried away sorry.😭 Sorry for any spelling errors.

You had every single one of the phantom members on one case. Oh shit it was a lot to process about them. It was every single crime they committed each of the 13 members of the phantom troupe. Each member had their own huge pamphlet, and you had to go through every single page of every single on to give a good declaration about them.

When it came to the day of talking to them about their experiences some of them gave you a good conversation, and some of them just blankly stared at you.

“Nobunaga. Give me a reason? Did you have any motives?” You asked him with a a curious stare.

Nothing.

“Were you forced?”

“No.” It was blank straight and to the point. Nothing more nothing less.

You knew that they had a leader, and maybe he was controlling them.

“So you’re not being controlled?”

“I just said no.”

“Well alright. How about your childhood?”

Nothing.

This wasn’t going anywhere was it?

The next day you were going to be talking to a man named Shalnark.

You looked at his chart, and he was very smart, and he was a manipulator.

“Well hello Shalnark.”

“Hi.”

He was restrained they looked very tight and painful. You looked at the mental section of his chart, and it looked terrible. It showed he was insane. His looks sure were deceiving.

“What was your experience with your “boss” Chrollo?”

“He’s a very patient person, and he isn’t a dictator by any means.”

He gave you a slight smile. Shalnark knew that he was in a deep hole, and he needed to say pretty words to get himself, and the rest of the troupe out of this situation.

Finally you were getting somewhere.

“How about the rest of the troupe?”

Silence.

Truth be told Shalnark didn’t know what to say. What could he say? Unknowing he zoned out thinking.

“Shalnark? Shalnark?”

Nothing.

“Well I’ll see you next week.”

Feitan was next the you heard guards and his previous lawyers talk about him. He attacked multiple of them, and that even led to some of them whiting from such trauma. He was located to another facility, and locked away till further investigation.

Were you scared no. I mean a person couldn’t be that bad you believed that maybe those people asked the wrong thing. You observed with the others that something you have to leave to the imagination.

“Hello Feitan.”

He strapped against a wall, and he wasn’t no longer muffled.

He didn’t respond.

Feitan thought it was kinda funny the situation him and troupe was in. All of these restrictions and restraints. He could easily get out of all of this and kill this person in front of him. Only with the bosses order he had the right to try and get away, but then again he was also having some fun here.

“How are you feeling? I know that’s kinda of painful.”

He stares blankly at you which made you slightly uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t feel like talking, but then again none of this was his choice. He had to talk in order for you to get more evidence to help them out.

You already know they come from a city where they were mostly likely were traumatized. Then again you have no proof that place even existed. You found no location of that place it was crazy.

“So, Feitan.. do you have any family?”

You knew he didn’t, but sometimes the charts don’t know it all. It never hurt to ask at least you didn’t think so.

“Family? Don’t know what that is.”

You tried a couple more time to talk to him and eventually you called it a day after multiple failures.

You wondered what the others would be like. You’d have to wait for next week.

This going to be a very long trail.

Pt.2

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It’s every blue moon Chrollo falls deeply for a woman, and here’s one of those times. But now for once there’s a woman that shows no interest in him what so ever. Chrollo tries to be a gentleman, he’s given gifts, compliments, and still nothing. Why is that? Why don’t you fall for him?

“I’m sorry it’s just I have a boyfriend is all.”

That’s the problem. He’ll be quick to solve it.

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Illumi PH links

warning: porn. MDI.

illumis therapy

slapping it

punishment

a different kind of torture

experiment

a goodmorning for him

ik its short 🙏🙏 sorry

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◇━━━ Breakin' Tiles!

a/n note. I wanted to see if I could still write smut while I was completely butt ass naked in the bath—definitely not inspired by my bathing daydreams or anything! Who created this picture?! @luvhiso and I couldn't find it anywhere; we could only track down the official art sketch. If anyone knows, please reach out to either Smiley or me so I can give proper credit. ♡

pairing: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader

◇ warning. Let's see here, 18+ MDNI, explicit rough sex, shower sex, blowjob (m receiving), face fucking, throat bulging, cum swallowing, floor sex, p in v, fem bodied reader, unprotected sex, creampie, he uses nen on your pussy (?!)

sypnosis. Grief-stricken by Uvogin’s recent death, Chrollo seeks solace in you, and before he departs to steal Neon’s nen, you offer yourself to him, allowing him to release his sorrow through your sweet cunt in the shower. 

word count. 3.8k

Chrollo’s gray-hued gaze bore down on you, cold with the lingering cloud of fresh grief. Despite his mind being far away, he was studying your submission, savoring how low you’d sunk—on your knees, cunt throbbing, mouth-watering, waiting for his command. His gaze, distant and gloomy, only made your desperation worse. You were nothing more than a devoted whore for him, and the shame of it made you wetter, your swollen folds practically begging for release. But that wouldn’t come until he decided. Until you earned it.

You didn’t care that your knees ached, and bruised from kneeling on the cold tile. That pain was a dull throb, nothing compared to the fire raging between your legs. Every second of his silence was unbearable, his unreadable glare making your heart race, your lips parting to catch your breath. You licked them instinctively, eyes wide and worshipful, as if his body were the only thing you lived for.

Chrollo’s body was your altar, and his cock… your offering.

It dangerously loomed before you, impossibly thick and heavy, veins bulging like they were about to burst under the pressure. The fat, swollen head dripped with precum, the thick liquid oozing down the length of his shaft. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it, couldn’t stop the way your body ached with need, the slick between your legs running down your thighs. His cock curved slightly upward, the tip an angry, dark red, so close you could almost taste it. Your cunt clenched at the sight, your body already begging for him to fill you, stretch you until you broke.

Your trembling fingers reached out, wrapping around the base of his cock, feeling it throb against your palm. His skin was hot, slick with water and precum, and you felt his desire pulse under your grip like a second heartbeat. Your hand barely fit around the girth, and the sheer size of him made your mouth go dry with anticipation. You knew that once you took him in, he’d wreck you, ruin you, and the thought made your pussy clench in anticipation.

You leaned in, your tongue slipping out, eager to taste him. The first lick was tentative, a soft swipe along the underside of his shaft, but the salty bitterness of precum and water made you shiver. You licked again, firmer this time, dragging your tongue up the thick vein that ran along his length. Chrollo’s cock twitched in your grip, a silent order for you to keep going. His hand clamped down on your head, fingers digging into your scalp, forcing your mouth to take him.

You gasped as he guided you, your lips parting to take in the swollen head, your tongue swirling around the tip as precum flooded your mouth. He tasted filthy—bitter, salty, and thick, making your throat tighten, but the feeling of submission only made you wetter. His cock was heavy on your tongue, stretching your lips as you took more of him, inch by inch until you were choking on his length. The pressure of him against your throat was unbearable, but you didn’t stop, your cunt dripping onto the shower tiles as you worshipped him with your mouth.

Chrollo’s grip tightened, his hips pushing forward, forcing you to take him deeper. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you gagged around his cock, the obscene, wet sounds of your mouth echoing in the shower. He was relentless, using your mouth like it was nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. The thought of it, the humiliation, made your pussy gush, your whole body trembling as you gave yourself over to him completely.

You moved with him, your body syncing with his rhythm as he forced himself deeper down your throat. Each brutal thrust sent a shiver through you, the bulge of his cock visibly stretching your throat as he plunged in and out. The crushing grip he had on your head only made you slobber more, spit dripping down your chin and onto your chest as he fucked your mouth mercilessly. If he pressed harder, he could easily pop your head like a melon, and that knowledge—how close he was to destroying you—only made you more desperate to please him.

His cock hit the back of your throat repeatedly, a violent rhythm that left you gagging and choking, your eyes watering as his heavy, porcelain balls slapped wetly against your chin with each thrust. The obscene, wet slap, slap of his balls against your face echoed in the shower, mixing with the sound of your choked breaths and the filthy squelch of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth. He was relentless and rough, and it felt like he was using your mouth to rid himself of every bit of grief weighing him down.

And yet, even as he used you, you felt like you were giving him something—sucking the sadness out of him, your mouth offering a kind of solace. His gaze darkened, the icy detachment in his gray eyes cracking slightly. His lips remained pressed into a thin line, but the tension was there, building, about to snap.

His eyes, though—there was a flicker of something behind them now, something more primal, more raw. You felt it. He was losing his control, bit by bit. And you wanted to see him break, wanted to watch the stoic mask crumble and reveal the feral lust underneath. You craved it, to make him lose himself completely, to pull him back to life with your touch, your mouth.

Your hand slid up his thigh as you deepened your suction, hollowing your cheeks around him, pulling him deeper with each thrust. The guttural groan that escaped his throat sent a thrill through you, your cunt clenching at the sound of it. You were so close to unraveling him, to make him forget everything except the feeling of your mouth and the heat of your body.

You sucked harder, your tongue swirling around the thick veins of his cock, savoring the salt of his precum. His grip tightened, his hips jerking forward more erratically now. His breathing was ragged, lips parting as his control slipped away. You could feel it in the way his cock twitched, the way his balls tightened as he neared his breaking point.

This was what you wanted—to bring him to the edge, to make him lose himself in you completely, to watch the cold, distant Chrollo unravel into something raw and primal, just for you.

His cock twitched violently in your mouth, thick and pulsing as he reached the brink. Without warning, his grip on your head tightened to a vice-like hold, shoving you down until your nose was pressed against his pelvis. You felt him hit the back of your throat and beyond, your airway constricting as your lips stretched around him, eyes watering. He groaned, low and primal, as the first hot, thick spurt of cum exploded down your throat. It hit so fast that you barely had time to process it, let alone breathe.

Wave after wave of his cum flooded your mouth, sliding down your throat in thick ropes, overwhelming your senses. You gagged, throat convulsing around his cock, but he didn’t let up—forcing every last drop down until you were choking on it, gasping for air. Gulp. Gulp. The filthy sound of you swallowing echoed in the shower, his cock twitching with each swallow, as if marking every bit of control he had over you.

You could barely keep up, his cum spilling from your lips, dripping down your chin in messy, obscene strands. But he wasn’t finished. Just as the last tremor of his orgasm wracked his body, he yanked his cock from your mouth with a slick, wet pop, leaving you gasping, drooling, and cum still leaking from your parted lips. You barely had time to recover before his hands were on you, dragging you up like you weighed nothing, your legs shaking from the intensity of it all.

Without a word, he slammed you against the glass wall of the shower, your back hitting the cold surface with a sharp slap. The shock of it sent a jolt through your body, your bare skin sticking to the fogged-up glass, wet from the steam and your sweat. You let out a needy, breathless whine, your body trembling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart, his cum still clinging to your lips.

Before you could catch your breath, his lips brushed your ear, his voice dark and commanding. "You're going to take it," he growled, his tone sending a fresh wave of arousal straight to your core. "Take it all."

His words were like fire, setting your nerves alight. You felt the heavy weight of his cock—still rock hard—press against your slick entrance, the head teasing your swollen folds. Your pussy throbbed, drenched, and aching to be filled. You whimpered, your body betraying you as your hips shifted forward, desperate for him to stretch you, to fuck you senseless.

He didn’t hesitate. His cock shoved into you in one brutal, unforgiving thrust, your slick walls parting around him with a wet squelch. The stretch was instant, the thick girth of him forcing you open, your pussy swallowing him greedily, your head thrown back against the glass as you let out a strangled moan. The sharp slap of his hips against yours echoed through the shower, each thrust deeper than the last, his cock plunging into you like he was claiming you, owning every inch of your body.

“You feel that?” he hissed through clenched teeth, his voice barely above a growl as he buried himself inside you, his hips grinding against yours, forcing you to take every inch. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked until you can’t even think?”

You could barely respond, your mind blank from the overwhelming pressure of him filling you, stretching you so wide it hurt—but in the best way. Every thrust hit deep, dragging a filthy, wet sound from your cunt, the tight space between your bodies slick with your arousal. His balls slapped against your ass with each brutal thrust, the obscene smack of skin on skin only heightening the filthy scene, making you tremble.

Your legs were shaking, barely able to hold you up as he pounded into you, pushing you harder against the glass. It creaked under your weight, but neither of you cared. All you could feel was him—his cock ramming into your tight heat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as he whispered filthy things into your ear. "You’re going to take it all, aren’t you?" he rasped, his voice dark, breath hot against your neck. "Every fucking inch of me."

Chrollo’s presence was overwhelming, his body towering over you with a deadly grace that made him seem more god than man. The steam from the shower clung to his pale skin, droplets running down the sharp planes of his body, tracing the defined lines of muscle that rippled with every motion. His chest was broad but sleek, the kind of strength that was deceptive—he didn’t need to bulk up to be powerful. His shoulders were wide, tapering down to a narrow waist that highlighted the striking V-shape of his torso. The faintest scars marred his otherwise perfect skin, each one a silent testament to the battles he had fought, adding a rugged allure to his otherwise pristine beauty.

His dark hair usually slicked back with meticulous precision, was now disheveled from the water and the heat of your body. Strands of it clung to his forehead, damp and wild, casting shadows over his piercing gray eyes. Those eyes—once cold and emotionless—now burned with intensity. There was a depth in them that you hadn’t seen before, a flicker of something raw, something primal, as they roamed over your body, taking in every quiver, every tremble of pleasure he drew from you.

His lips, pale and thin, were pressed into a hard line as he fought to keep control, but the flush of color creeping up his neck betrayed him. His breath came in ragged pants now, heavy and uneven, the tension in his jaw showing how hard he was holding back. Yet despite the restraint in his expression, his body told a different story. His muscles were taut, veins bulging down his arms as he gripped you, holding you up with an ease that made you feel impossibly small in his grasp.

His thighs, powerful and thick, flexed with each thrust, driving his hips into yours with a relentless rhythm that shook the glass door behind you. Every inch of him was perfection, sculpted and lethal, his body a weapon of control and desire. His cock—thick, veined, and still pulsing inside you—felt like it was made to stretch you to your limits, the head hitting deep against your cervix with every powerful thrust. It curved slightly upward, veins running along its thick length, its heavy weight filling you.

His hands, calloused yet elegant, gripped your thighs tightly, fingers pressing bruises into your skin as he held you against the glass, shaking the very structure with the force of his need. His pale skin, wet from the shower and slick with sweat, gleamed under the dim light, making him look almost ethereal like some dark angel sent to break you. Yet for all the perfection in his form, it was the small cracks in his facade that made him irresistible—the flush on his cheeks, the subtle twitch of his lips as he struggled to keep control, and the way his breath hitched every time you clenched around him.

Chrollo was an enigma—a perfect blend of beauty and danger, control and chaos. As his hips drove into you, as his cock stretched you open, it felt like he wasn’t just fucking you—he was consuming you, body and soul. 

Unbeknownst to you, the atmosphere between you shifted. Chrollo’s quiet intensity was morphing into something far more dangerous, more consuming. He had been slowly releasing his bloodlust, the dark, primal energy that he kept so carefully locked away, letting it seep into the air around you, winding tighter and tighter. That unrelenting grip, those vicious thrusts—all of it carried the weight of the hunger he had been holding back. And now, he was letting it loose on you, intensifying every touch, every thrust, making your body quake with an overwhelming surge of pleasure mixed with fear.

His gaze, once icy and detached, was now wild, unhinged like he had finally given in to the madness swirling in his chest. You barely had time to catch your breath before he moved, yanking you down from the glass, flipping you over so quickly your world spun. Your body was slammed down onto the cold tile floor, your face pressed against the wet surface, your ass raised high for him. The hard tile bit into your skin, but that pain was nothing compared to the sheer force with which he took you.

"Chrollo…!" you cried out, voice breaking as his cock drove back into you, filling you with a brutal intensity that made your body arch in response. “Please—ah! I can’t—!” Your words were cut off by a sharp gasp as he thrust deeper, harder, slamming into you like he was trying to break you.

His hands gripped your hips tight, fingers digging so hard into your flesh you were sure he’d leave bruises, but the way he was fucking you, the way he was completely losing control, made you forget about everything else. All you could feel was him—his cock stretching you, filling you, the thick length dragging along every sensitive spot inside you, forcing wave after wave of pleasure to crash over you.

The atmosphere around you grew heavier as if the very air was thickening with an oppressive force. You could feel it—the surge of Chrollo’s Nen, leaking out of him uncontrollably, intertwining with yours. It was suffocating, pulling you into an emotional maelstrom as his aura pressed down on you, its weight forcing submission, forcing surrender. Every movement, every thrust became not just a physical act but a spiritual one, his essence penetrating you deeper than you thought possible.

His silence was deafening. There were no more commands, no words at all—just the frantic, almost desperate way he was fucking you. His grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin, and you knew he was unraveling.

Your face was crushed against the cold, wet tile, and all you could hear was the steady crackle of it shattering beneath the intensity of his thrusts. Each violent slam of his hips echoed through your entire body, the sound of the breaking tiles mingling with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding. His cock was relentless, stretching you, filling you to the point of madness, the slick squelch of it plunging into your soaked pussy resonating through the room, the kind of sound you swore Shalnark could hear down the hall.

His thrusts were so brutal, so animalistic, that the glass door of the shower shook violently, rattling in its frame with every slam of his hips. You were sure it would shatter under the force of him, but you couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of him inside you—huge, thick, and unforgiving. Every inch of him was pulsing, throbbing, pushing you to the edge, over and over again, until you were lost in a haze of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

Your body betrayed you. You had already lost count of how many times you came, the sheer force of it each time tearing a scream from your throat. Your legs shook uncontrollably, barely able to support you as your body was wracked with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him as you shattered again and again, completely at his mercy.

But then something changed. His thrusts became erratic, and wild, as if he was losing control. You couldn’t see him—your face was pressed too hard into the floor—but you could feel it. The raw, frantic energy that was consuming him, making him shake, making his aura explode around you. It was like he was breaking apart, piece by piece, and as his thrusts became more violent, you felt something wet hit your back—not water from the shower, but something warmer, something more human.

He was crying.

Silent, desperate tears that spilled onto your skin as he drove into you with a force that felt like it was tearing him apart. His body shook, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps as he fucked you harder, faster like he was trying to purge every emotion, every fragment of grief, anger, and despair that had been buried deep inside him.

His hands were trembling now, still gripping your hips with bruising force, but there was no control anymore—just pure, unfiltered need. He was an animal, his aura swirling chaotically, enveloping you both in a whirlwind of intense emotion, his spiritual energy mingling with yours until you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

The cracking tiles beneath you splintered further, breaking under the sheer force of him slamming into you, your body a trembling mess as another orgasm tore through you. Your cunt clenched around him uncontrollably, your cries echoing in the small space as you felt your aura give way, bending completely to his overwhelming power.

His body was magnificent—every muscle in his back and arms rippling with tension, veins bulging under his pale skin as sweat and water dripped from him, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, the strands falling messily over his furrowed brow, but his eyes—those usually cold, calculating eyes—were broken now, overflowing with something raw, something vulnerable.

The tears kept coming, mixing with the water as he pounded into you, his cock throbbing inside your soaked, swollen cunt, stretching you beyond your limits. His jaw was clenched tight, lips pressed into a thin line, but you could feel the silent sobs wracking through him as he gave in, completely losing himself in you.

You could barely speak, barely breathe, the intensity of his aura crushing you, forcing you to take everything he had—every emotion, every thrust, every ounce of grief that was pouring out of him. You came again, your body convulsing as his Nen washed over you, the sheer force of it pushing you beyond the edge, making your entire being tremble with the overwhelming ecstasy of it all.

His cock twitched violently inside you, and with one final, brutal thrust, he let go—completely. His aura exploded around you, suffocating, consuming, as his body convulsed, and he came deep inside you, filling you with a hot rush that seemed to burn through your entire core. You cried out, your voice broken and raw, your hands gripping the shattered tiles beneath you as he spilled himself into you, his body trembling uncontrollably, the last remnants of his control slipping away.

Chrollo’s head dipped close to your cheek, his breath labored and uneven. You felt the wet warmth of his tears, pure and unchecked, streaming down his face, mingling with the sweat and water. He pressed his pelvis hard against you, his cock still buried deep inside, as his body shook with the overwhelming combination of pleasure and grief. "Fuck... I didn’t know it could feel like this," he muttered hoarsely, tears falling faster as he cursed himself for not doing this sooner. Your swollen cunt, so tight and soaked, gripped him like nothing else, and the pain of his loss only heightened the pleasure.

Both of you slumped on the floor, bodies spent and battered, as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your vision fading into white. Yet even in that haze, you felt the soft press of his lips on your forehead, his inky black hair falling over his intense, sorrowful gray eyes, and the cross that was etched into his temple. Your ass burned from the groping, the slaps—red and tender from the roughness of his touch.

"We should have done this sooner," he chuckled lightly, his voice soft as he checked over you with a tenderness that felt almost foreign after what had just happened. His thumb gently stroked your sensitive clit as he pulled out, offering a soothing touch despite how completely wrecked you were. And then, as you lay there, utterly spent, his quiet laugh made your heart flutter, the faintest spark of life in the aftermath of your shared devastation. You had given him something, even if just for a fleeting moment—a solace that ran deeper than words could express.

Your head turned weakly over your shoulder, and you were met with his lips, soft yet firm as they captured yours in a brief, gentle kiss. "My sweet girl…" he whispered, his voice laden with a mix of affection and exhaustion.

Extra <3:

Shalnark barely glanced up, but the moment he caught sight of you, he raised an eyebrow, his expression deceptively serious.

"Whoa," he said, spinning around in his chair to face you fully. "You okay? That shakiness isn’t normal. We should probably get you to a hospital."

Your cheeks burned, and you shot him a look. "I’m fine," you grumbled, trying to sound more composed than you felt, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Shalnark, of course, wasn’t fooled. His lips twitched, holding back a grin. "Uh-huh," he nodded sagely. "Sure you are." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "But, you know, if you start feeling faint or anything, just let me know. I’ve got connections with a great nurse!"

You couldn’t help but glare at him, though deep down you knew he was just messing with you—probably having the time of his life after what he undoubtedly overheard and felt...

© eyesofbong / Do not plagiarize my work. If you see this content on any account that is not mine, please report it.

[gitikrait]

things that the yan hunter x hunter adult trio are thankful for:

chrollo is thankful for:

libraries (the number one date option in his mind)

the subtly of his threats (they aren't subtle at all)

freshly ironed suits (you say he smells like a bonfire, and he puts on more cologne in the hopes you won't hurt his feelings again)

technology manuals/the troupe members that do know how to use such witchcraft (he can decipher ancient languages yet somehow fails to know how to send you an email)

the single couch in the living room just a tad too small so you two are always touching (definitely not bought for this purpose)

illumi is thankful for:

prolonged eye contact with you

the wounds he forces you to clean up instead of his butlers

that his hair is long enough for you to brush nightly

that the shoes he bought for you are a tad too big so he has the excuse to carry you or tell you that you can't go outside (aka gaslighting you into thinking you're clumsier than you actually are)

the "gifts" you give him whenever he comes back from a long mission (kikyo forces you to)

hisoka is thankful for:

your ass

that his nails are always sharp so you can't move when he holds your chin in the fear you'll get cut

the inch of distance he has between you two (the bungee gum fills that space so technically zero inches)

the commissioned body pillow of you (i won't be elaborating on this but it was expensive.)

public transport for when he wants to annoy you/be creepy to you in front of complete strangers