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 assaultÂ
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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. Itâs humiliating in a way that nothing else can compare to, nothing heâs ever done to you has been quite so potently horrid.Â
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 youâre not. Youâre rocking your hips against his and whining his name and begging for more.Â
"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 heâd do anything to keep you all to himself. In moments like this, itâs easy to believe that. You nod, desperate for release. "Go on, then,â he encourages, moving his hips against yours to meet you halfway as you move.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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Reader is ââ Female | Phantom Troupe member
Story is ââ Romantic | Drabbles
Warnings ââ Mentions of torture (not reader)
Chrollo
⊠ââ It was typical for him to disappear for weeks to months at a time, with none of the Troupe aware of his whereabouts, doing who knows what. Except he always contacted you once a month to meet up.
⊠ââ Different place every time, but always some kind of book cafe. He would meet you there late in the evening and update you on his dealings and treat it almost akin to a one-sided book club.
⊠ââ This spot had a nice couch, and you took the opportunity to lie across it, head on one armrest while he sat at the other end, your ankles on his lap. He'd read aloud to you, even if he spotted you drifting off.
"Am I that boring?" Your leader mused, closing the book to rest his chin on his fist, elbow propped on the other armrest. You were fast asleep and had been for a few minutes now.
Once Chrollo was sure he had memorized your sleeping face, he went back to reading his book, held in one hand. His other toyed with the small chain around your ankle, an anklet he had gifted you long ago.
He wouldn't dare rouse you, nor would he let anyone else. Chrollo would sooner kill everyone in the shop if it meant he got an extra moment with you like this.
Feitan
⊠ââ He's small. He's cold. He's uncomfortable. Feitan has no reason to believe you'd ever go to him for 'comfort'; he is a sea urchin of a human.
⊠ââ So when he's reading, having just finished torturing the man bleeding out a few meters away and having gotten the intel he wanted, and you slump against him? Yeah, he's surprised!
⊠ââ When you do wake up, you might catch him practicing some of the words from the book aloud. But once he realizes you're awake, expect his lips to be sealed and to be shoved off him.
"What doing?" He practically spits the words, harsh as always, and throws you a hard side-eye.
You're asleep. How? How on earth could you sleep like this, and with the victim's ugly sobs audible no less? Whatever. You can stay, only because you'd be no use to him deprived of sleep.
You're nice and warm, too.
Hisoka
⊠ââ Are you sure that's a good idea? It's certain that he wouldn't shy away from contact or find affection gross, but he might not be the safest option.
⊠ââ At least that is what anyone else would think, but you don't seem to care, because you're fast asleep with your back to his chest.
⊠ââ Hisoka doesn't seem to care either; he just adapts. He pulls you closer so you don't slump forward and rests his hands on your lap instead. He can still shuffle, even with his arms around you, and he might try to build a card tower on your lap if you're still.
You were always direct with him, telling him to move his arms so you could plop yourself right between his legs and use him like a rest. Still, he didn't expect you to fall asleep.
"How amusing." He poked you a few times, but it didn't gain any reaction, so he continued practicing small card tricks in front of you, even if you wouldn't see.
He has his head resting on your shoulder so he can see his hands as he works and listens closely to every breath you take.
Illumi
⊠ââ Always as stiff as a board, effective, and calculated. It's insanely hard to get close to Illumi because he always assumes one's actions are for the worst.
⊠ââ But you're just so disarming. You make every effort to touch himâusually his hairâand never seem offended when he moves away; you just try again. So, Illumi decides it's a waste of time making space between you two.
⊠ââ You can play with his hair, poke his needles, and fall asleep on him all you want. It's not like it brings him any harm, and why would it matter what you did?
You make him feel weird, and you always do strange stuff, but at least you're predictable while you sleep.
It did leave you vulnerable, though. He thought you were being stupid for resting on him when he could so easily kill you. He would not, no, not ever, but he could.
Illumi is used to being still for hours on end, and so he will amuse your antics for the time being by staying still and allowing you rest. Assassins do not need friends, but allies are good to have, right?
Machi
⊠ââ Machi keeps her distance from everyone, even those she likes, just to be sure she's ready for anything unexpected. That, and it was harder for the others to tell who she liked.
⊠ââ But when you two are alone, she stands close, like a guard dog. You want to sleep on her? Yeah, okay, she won't hold still for you, but she'll let you.
⊠ââ God, you're so in the way of her sewing that she has to run her arm around your waist so she can get around you and keep working. So annoying.
"Seriously?" She mutters under her breath, scoffing at your ridiculousness. There was a bed not more than a few meters away, and you still decided this was the best place?
Who cares? You can sleep wherever you want. So long as you don't ruin her project or tell anyone about this, she'll let you rest.
Pakunoda
⊠ââ She was friendly, sweet, and alluring. You always commented on the captivating scents of her perfume oil, and she always tried to find one you'd like more than the last.
⊠ââ Given she always has the relaxing aura about her, especially with you, it seems to finally slip beyond a pleasant feeling into something so gentle you get real tired around her.
⊠ââ Paku watches you fall asleep in real time, and she gently guides you down until you're resting with your shoulders and head on her lap. She won't touch you any further, but she will admire you.
It was late, and they were still waiting on the rest of the troupe to arrive. Pakunoda methodically polished her revolver, counting each bullet as she locked them in place.
Below her working hands was your resting face, head cushioned from the floor by her thighs. Her eyes traced you every few minutes, making sure you showed no sign of discomfort.
When it was time to wake up, she'd give you a quick kiss on your forehead and nudge you until those pretty eyes opened.
Phinks
⊠ââ This cocky asshole may act like he's nothing but a fighting machine, but he cares. Yeah, he cares a lot actually, and you're his soft spot.
⊠ââ You could tell him point blank you're going to sleep on him, and he'd let it happen, but he's glad you did it unexpectedly because he can play it off as if he isn't happy about it.
⊠ââ He'll wrap both arms around you and hold you close, lie back so you can rest comfortably on him, and do his best not to move too much.
Thank god there was a couch nearby when you fell asleep, because without his track jacket he'd have frozen if you'd both stayed on the floor.
That very jacket is pulled over your shoulders like a blanket, and he's holding you close to steal some of that radiating warmth you let off. His expression remains cold, almost annoyed, but he's still holding on tight.
"You're lucky I'm in a good mood." He says it knowing you won't hear it, mostly to rationalize his affectionate actions as nothing more than chance.
Shalnark
⊠ââ Out of anyone, he's most likely to have fallen asleep on you before, and he's always opening his arms to envelop you in a hug once he knows you'll accept it.
⊠ââ So when you finally make yourself comfortable, curling up next to him and resting the side of your head on his lap, he has to stop himself from celebrating.
⊠ââ There is no shame; Shalnark will let his hand play with your hair and touch your face. He wants to feel you, and it seems to soothe you into an even deeper slumber!
His fingers were careful not to mess up or tangle your hair as he carefully brushed through it, moving his hand to trace the outer edge of your ear and follow your jaw where his thumb could caress your cheek.
Your soft breathing was a sign that he wasn't being a disturbance, so he kept going. Mindlessly memorizing the dips and plush parts of your face while he listened for any small noises you offered.
"Sleep as long as you like." His voice was more soft-spoken than he expected, a smile making its way to his lips. You really did mess with his feelings, huh?
Shizuku
⊠ââ Not the kind to initiate contact, but also not the kind to shy away from someone else. She is quiet and a great companion for sleep if you want to be watched over the whole time.
⊠ââ Shizuku is pretty certain you've never just passed out against her, though. She was sure she would remember something so meaningful! That's why this is such a big deal.
⊠ââ Stares at you the whole time and wonders aloud what you might be dreaming about. She'll ask questions, even if she knows you can't answer.
"Are you asleep?" Her eyes peer at you through her glasses, though the answer is obvious when your breath is moving so slow and you give not an inch of a reply.
"Did you not rest well last night?" This time, her hand lifts to hold the side of your head and pull you against her more, making sure you're at least a bit more comfortable.
"If it's okay, I won't wake you up." She could, but she doesn't really feel like it. She likes you anyways, so you should make sure to sleep extra long so she can enjoy it!
Uvogin
⊠ââ Ah, yes, this is certainly not the first time you would have fallen asleep on him. Uvo is big, warm, and well-cushioned. He naps all the time while being forced to wait on orders, too.
⊠ââ But in the middle of a mission, while you're in the getaway car and being chased down? He barely feels it when you lean against him, but when he tosses a glance your way, he can't help but chuckle at your carelessness.
⊠ââ You're moved to his lap, both to make more room for the others and so he can shield you from any stray bullets or if the car takes a tumble.
"You're crazy." He says it with a grin, because quite frankly he likes that about you.
Watching you rest as if you're in a safe haven, and watching you cling to him, is extremely amusing. You're nowhere near this clingy when you're awake, so he's going to savour it!
Even as the car comes to a screeching halt, you don't wake. So Uvogin takes it upon himself to sling you over his shoulder and fight one-handed! He's extra vicious because he's gotta make sure Sleeping Beauty gets her rest.
Author's Note | Genuinely I love each and every one of these guys so much that it is criminal. There is no favouritism because I LOVE THEM ALL DEEPLY. Please enjoy, dearest reader.
warnings: NSFW - MDNI, Ging Freecs, this man needs his own tw, kissing, making out, pet names, teasing, yeah i think thats it?
summary: Making out with hxh guys
characters: HxH guys x F!Reader + Neferpitou (they/them) dunno where to put that creature
word count: 5.940
a/n: any character you want added? Tell me lol
Chrollo
Chrollo is kissing you with a passion that borders on fervent. His hands touch the curves of your faceâ as if trying to memorize how you feel under his skin. He wants to memorize your smell, how each of your curves and dip fits against him.
His tongue sweeps along your lips, desperate for more. Chrollo is craving you; craving the sensation of your skin against his. Chrollo's hands slide down your chest and to your thighs, pulling you even closer against him, his touch insistent and demanding. He pulls back and gazes at you, his hand tilting your chin so that you're looking up at him. His eyes are dilated, almost completely black, and his voice is ragged as he speaks.
"Don't look away from me," he murmurs. "Your eyes. Let me see them. I need to see you." His mouth is on your neck, his hands roaming over your skin. He's desperate. His tongue follows the path of his lips, tasting the air with a fervour that borders on the needy. He lets out a ragged exhale that turns into a moan against your flesh.
"You're mine," he groans. "You're perfect. You're mine."
Dalzollene
Dalzollene is pressed against your body, hands at your hips. His head dips to kiss you, lips trailing across your jaw and down the column of your throat. "You're so good to me," he murmurs between pecks and kisses. "Good," he repeats. He presses closer against you, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. Dalzollene's body presses hard against yours, pushing you back against the wall. One of his hands leaves your hips to come up under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach.
His other hand grips your hip, holding you in place. His lips find your sensitive point just under your jaw, and he nips you there. "My good girl." He says, as though he means it. "Gods, you're good to me." His kisses are hot, almost feverish, against your skin as his lips dance and suck to a new spot after just leaving the last. One hand grabs your hip tighter, pinning you to the wall behind you. The other slides down your chest and stomach, leaving fire in every place his fingertips graze you. "You're gonna make me weak if you keep being so good to me," he rasped against your neck. "Oh, you're so goddamn good to me." Dalzollene nips the soft flesh of your collarbone.
Feitan
"Ouch-!" Feitan lets out a soft laugh against your lips. His teeth nip at your skin, taking the tiniest tastes of you, relishing in the sweet moan that escapes your throat as he does so. His hand curls around your cheek, fingers tracing the line of your jaw.
"You are delicious," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "I could feast on you for eternity." Feitan's hand slides back to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He tugs, pulling your head back and baring your neck for him. He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Who do you belong to?" He whispers, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. "Say it. Let me hear those sweet little words." His hand continues to grasp at you, as if he cannot get enough of your touch. His teeth graze against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along the line of your pulse. "Whose are you?" He breathes, his voice as soft and sweet as honey. "Tell me. Who do you belong to? Answer me. I will have my name on your hips, your back, everywhere. I'll carve it into you."
Ging
"Watch my-?" Ging stutters before cutting himself off, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He blinks once, twice, before letting out a soft, almost inaudible exhale of breath. "My tongue?" Ging pulls you against him. One of his arms wraps around your waist, bringing you right flush against him. Gings other hand slides lower, slipping down to your hip.
"You're a brat, aren't you? No one ever complained about my kisses, ever." He murmurs, smirking. "Probably cause you never ever kissed someone, ever." You mock him. "You've always been a brat." Ging lets out a quiet laugh.
He tugs his hand from your hair, coming to rest it on your hip instead; his grip tightens ever-so-slightly. The hand at your stomach begins to rise, creeping just beneath the edge of your shirt. His hand slides higher, fingertips brushing against your skin, just shy of the waistband of your pants. Ging lets your ear fall against the crook of his neck, the action bringing you even more closely against him than you were a moment agoâ it's as though he's attempting to meld the two of you together like an experiment.
He grins. "How long has it been since you've been on your best behaviour?"
Hanzo
Hanzo is a mess of kisses. He worships your lips like a shrine, he worships the curve of your neck, he worships the slope of your shoulders, the dip of your waist, everything. In a moment, he is a man drowning in an ocean of blissâ his body pressed against yours, his hands gripping you tight, holding you close to him.
The man is a kiss-soaked messâ his body a trembling mess, every kiss turning him to jelly. He holds onto you like he never wants to let go. "Did you ever-" but you were quickly shut down, "Never before." The answer comes in hushed, urgent tones. His hands trail over you like fire, tracing the curves and lines of your body like your skin is a map he wants to re-draw a thousand times.
"Never like this." His hands roam down your back. "Not with anyone like this." His words end on a gasp as his hand comes down to cup you, his touch possessive and almost reverent. It is a caress, but at the same time, it's claiming you.
"I have longed to touch you," he whispers, his words like a prayer. "To caress you⊠to hold youâŠ" His words are like nothing he'd ever thought of before, but he seems to be spilling them without a care. It's as if he has been holding them back for years, and your touch has forced them out. For the first time, Hanzo is a man without a filter, no hesitation, no hesitance. "To touch you..." he murmurs, as he leans forward, pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck. "So desperately."
Hisoka
"Yes." He moans between kisses, arching up into you. He presses his body against yours, as close as two souls can be. Every kiss, every touch, only makes the fire inside him grow. His fingers, cold as moonlight, dance over your skin. His lips are soft, but his touch is hungryâ he wants you, needs you, like a starving puppy that only a single meal will suffice. "Oh," he whispers against your lips, "OH~" he moans, "Mmm, yes, keep it coming." He lets out a shuddering breath. Hisoka's fingers dip into your hair and thread through the soft strands, grabbing the locks in a way that makes it hard for you escape from his hold.
"So good. You're so good, soâ" He cuts off a moan, his breath hitching in anticipation of something. "Can you shut the fuck up, clown ass-" you blurt out.
Hisokas eyes gleam, sparkling like jewels as he looks up at you. He loves it when you take control like this. All those sounds he made before are nothing compared to his cocky grin now. "Mmm, make me," he responds, teasingly.
Hisoka's hand slides up your arm, all the way up and his fingers dig into your shoulder hard. His smirk is playful, but that look in his eyes⊠that's no joke. A low growl rolls past his lips.Â
"I dare you," he teases. "Make me shut up."
Illumi
Kissing Illumis lips feels like kissing a statue. His body is rigid, like the very air around him has frozen. The only response you get from him is from the way he shudders against you, or from the soft sound that slips from his lips when your tongue touches against his.
The kiss feels as if it were frozen in time. Illumi is completely and utterly frozen. The only sign he makes of life in his body is his handsâ they're resting on your shoulders, fingers curling and releasing.
Your lips part from his, it's pointless and in a way embarrassing for you to keep going. "Did you...ever made out before?" "No." His answer is simple. His fingers grip tighter against your shoulders, pulling you a little closer to him. The stiffness in his body grows to the point that you might believe he stopped breathing entirely.
"Mother has taught me." "WHAT?!" "She said that making out, or kissing is a waste of time and should not be part of the relationship process. It takes away too much time." "Ah-"
The little sound you make makes Illumi pause.
His fingers flex and loosen against your shoulders. He's tense, body frozen in place, when suddenly he pulls you a little tighter. "Ah," he repeats, your single little sound is so perfect to his ears. Soft and breathy.
"Well, seems like you have to...teach me then."
Kite
"My everything." Kite's fingers trail along your jaw, over your lips, tracing the lines of your face. "My only love."Â He buries his nose into your neck, breathes you in. "Please." He says, the word almost a whimper of desire.
"Please, don't ever jump so reckless into danger again." "...Promise." "I hope so." The corners of Kite's lips curl up into a slight, affectionate smile, but it's a shaky smile. He buries a hand into your silken hair and breathes against your throat.
"Promise me you'll run when i tell you to. You stay where you are when i tell you to. You do as i tell you to. We don't know what we might encounter in NGL."
"Good." Kite's entire body relaxed, a shudder coming over him as your word echoed through his mind. He breathed out against your skin, nuzzling into that sweet spot beneath your jaw. He closed his eyes, pressing his lips against you in a kiss, and again, and again. He wants to lose himself in you.
"Please, do as told and leave me behind if you must."
Knov
Knov's lips are as cold as his skin is warm. It's a strange sensation, one that seems both heavenly and sinful at once. His arms are wrapped around you as though he would never let go. There's an almost reverent expression on his face as his lips connect with yours, and his hands roam your body as if he is trying to prove to himself you're really there.
He kisses you. Deeply and passionately, as if he were starving and you were the first thing that wasn't ice in his mouth. Knov's lips are cold, his hands hot against your skin. He guides you closer to him, one arm curled around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, a stark contrast to the cold of his lips.
His other hand is buried in your hair, fingers tangled in your locks like a man who was desperate to touch you. "Gods, you're beautiful," he murmurs. Knov's eyes roam over you almost possessively, as though he wants to look at every inch of you. He's silent like this, for the first time in as long as you can remember. He's so focused, so intent on you, that he has forgotten how to hold a conversation. All of his attention is on youâ your form, the way your hair bounces as you move, the way your clothes mould themselves against youâ he's completely captivated.
When he finally does speak again, his voice is rough. Deep and husky.
"I've missed you."
Knuckle
"C-Chill out-!" Knuckle's reaction to that is quite a lot of things, most of them sinful, and you can't tell when he stops kissing you or when he pulls back. For a moment he just stares at you, eyes wide. "You-" he breaths. The words fail him, replaced by a soft, shaky exhale. For a moment he's too stunned to move, staring.
But then, you're pressed against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you as close to his body as humanly possible. He buries his face into your neck, pressing kisses to the skin. The way he kisses is desperate, desperate like a man starving in the desert. His breaths are hot against your skin, and his hands are gripping your waist, holding onto you so tightly he fears you might disappear.
"What as gotten into you." you chuckle lightly as his lips and hair tickle your skin. "You," he chokes out, his voice coming as a sharp gasp against your neck. His head lifts, and he kisses down the column of your neck, and you can hear the way he says "you" between kisses, and it sounds like a prayer, like a plea, like a vow. "You've gotten into meâ"
Kurapika
"Feeling better?" You ask him, holding his face gently in your hands. "The world feels less cold," he admits. His hands come up to hold your face. He's never seen anything as precious as you before, and there is a sense of reverence in the way that he looks at you.
"I've never felt... whole." His fingertips trace the lines of your jaw. "I'm better now," he says, voice barely above a whisper. As he speaks, Kurapika's hands are still tracing the expanse of your cheek, the line of your jaw, the curve of your cheeksâ as if he's memorising how it feels to finally touch you.
His eyes have softened when they look at you. The tension in his body seems to have left at last. "I'm better when I'm with you," he says. He kisses you. His lips are soft and warm against yours, the taste like sweet wine against your tongue, a heady mix of sweetness and intoxicating desire.
His arms are gentle as they wrap around your waist, drawing you closer still. As if your proximity isn't enough, he pulls you over so that you're sat atop of him on his lap. His lips are hungryâ a desperate need against your mouth as he kisses you over and over again.
Leorio
Leorio kisses back fiercely, lips pressing against yours fervently, tongue slipping past your lips. His hands slide up to cup your face, fingers tangling gently in your hair, cradling you against him as if he cannot get enough of you. He melts at your touch, breath leaving him in soft, shuddering gasps. He pulls back just slightly, only by millimetersâ his lips just barely ghosting over your skin, his breath hot and needy and soft against your neck. Leorio swallows, lips parting slightly. The sound of his breath against your skin has an unmistakable undertone of need. He presses closer, pressing his body against yours, body shaking against you. Every breath he takes has his name falling from his lips.
"Gods," he gasps, voice a desperate whisper. "BabâŠI don't know how much patience I have left."
He presses his lips between your collarbones, leaving soft, reverent kisses against smooth flesh. "I'm going crazy." You are making him absolutely unravel.
He murmurs your name as he presses kisses against your neck. He's whimpering now, a litany of praise against your skin like a desperate prayer. "Your- Gods, I need you-" His fingers clutch at your shirt, body trembling. "-I need to be closer to you."
The way he's shuddering against you is like a leaf in the wind. A shudder, a press, another kiss to your skin. "I'm going to break if I don't have you now."-
Menthuthuyoupi
"Wait-! Not so r-!" Menthuthuyoupi gasps, a low, startled sound that catches in his throat. He blinks down at you. "Not so rough?" His words are muffled against the soft plush of your lips, but the sound is clear. He pauses, lifting his head slightlyâ his lips barely leave yours, and he's still close enough that his body is flush against yours. His mouth brushes against your lips, the sound of his deep and gravelly voice rumbling from his chest.
He leans closer, his eyes still fixed on yours, and he murmurs. "Or not so loud?"
"Rough-!" "Yes." His breath is hot on your face, his tongue flicking out to trace your bottom lip, a slow, deliberate stroke of heat. A shudder runs through him as he pulls back just enough to speak. He tilts his head, and he looks up you. "You like that?" He tilts his head, his mouth only inches away from yours. A smirk pulls at his mouth, and he teases you in kind. "Rough." Menthuthuyoupis breath hitches against your ear. He shivers, his body taut with tension as his hand moves to the nape of your neck, fingers tightening against the soft skin.
"Rough." He murmurs once more, his voice barely a touch above a whisper. He pulls back slightly, and the look in his eyes is like a wildcat stalking its prey.
"You want rough." He repeats, as though it is the most obvious thing in the universe.
Meruem
His lips move against yours automatically. He kisses you with a sense of reverence so intense, you'd think you were worshipping a god in the shape of a man. Meruem's heart is in his throat. This is all he's ever dreamed of, all he's dreamed of since the day you first turned your eyes onto him. He kisses you like a dying man who is being reborn (literally). A man starving who cannot fathom having food, but here it is, right in front of him.
Just before you pull away, Meruem murmurs.
"Mine." His mouth curls up at that. He grins, but there's hunger behind his eyes, and something else too. A sense of possession. A deep, feral need to keep what is his and his alone. "Mine to devour," he agrees. "Mine to love. Mine to hold. Mine to eat if i so desire." Meruem kisses you again, this time more aggressively, as if he's trying to memorize every detail of your lips so that he will never forget the taste again. His hands, large and strong, come up to rest on your waist; his fingers dig into your body, claiming you as his with a possessive force that takes your breath.
He breaks the kiss, only to move back in, kissing you again and again. Each time, his embrace around you deepens, becomes harder. His breaths are becoming heavier.
"My Human tastes so good."
Morel
Morel is a man who is all restraint. He is meticulous, precise, and disciplined. He has a reputation as a hunter for his precise, deadly combat, but he has also been known to be a slow, almost deliberate lover.
His kiss against your mouth is slow and unhurried. When his lips part from yours, he pauses to gaze at you, as if you are a precious gemstone. Morel will look at you as if for the first time, even after months of seeing you. No matter how many times he's been in your presence, every look is like the first. His expression is always one of reverent awe. His hands are cool, soft, and steady. They rest against your face when he kisses you. He holds you close, like a flower held in a gentle breeze that will protect you from all the storms of the world. His movements are deliberately slow, as if he is savouring every inch of you.
"Morel..." His name on your lips makes his body shiver with something he couldn't have prepared for in a million deaths. He is as if carved from stone. The word that slips from your mouth as if falling from the gods themselves makes him feel like he's been touched by lightning.
"Say it again�" he whispers.
"Morel." "You'll remember to scream that later." "Wait what?"
Neferpitou
Neferpitou shivers at the sensation of your lips. Soft. Plump. Just the right amount of firmness. When your hand cups the side of their face, they tilt their head into your hand â as though they couldn't be more content to be in your grasp.
"Was...was that a kiss�" They ask breathlessly. Neferpitou has always been quiet, but they are so very desperate for you. Neferpitou kisses you like a drowning man, with a desperation that almost seems to consume the room. There are no words that need be said to describe this, only actions.
When your back hits the wall, Neferpitou is flush against you, their lips still on yours, tongue tracing over your teeth. Their hand reaches up to grasp you by the neck, pressing against your jaw with the same sort of urgency.
Their breaths get deeper, more ragged with want. "You're mineâŠ" Neferpitou breathes when they finally pull back from your kiss, leaving only a few inches of space between your lips. Their thumb brushes over your lip, lingering as if they couldn't bear the thought of letting it go.
"Say you're mine, human!"
Netero
His lips are warm, softer than they have any right to be. His arms are around you, firm as a mountain, but gentle in a way that says he's being careful. He tastes of the rain, like the afterglow of a storm. His arms tighten against your back in a way that makes it perfectly clear: he intends on holding onto you for all eternity. He is centuries oldâ but he feels young with you. He holds you against him like a relic, a treasure from the very first second that he's made you his.
Your body fits against his, the two of you slotting together like the final bit of a puzzle. He is warm against you, his head buried against the crook of your neck, as if you are a pillow, and all his thoughts are on you. His face is pressed into your hair, and he inhales slowly, your scent filling his senses and his eyes flutter shut. It feels as if a part of him has been missing all his life, and then you came along and you fit so perfectly into his arms that all at once he realises: you were always that missing piece.
"I've been waiting for so long," he mumbles. "I'm not going to let go of you now."
Nobunaga
Nobunagas head is in the crook of your neck. He is breathing deeply, as if you could drown out the whole world with the scent of you alone. "I love you," he breathes again, against your skin. "You're it⊠you're all I needâŠ"
His hand gently runs up your arm, holding you against him. He's clinging to you like a barnacle. Nobunaga's breath hitches as your touch moves against his jawline. "You're too good for me." His words are barely a whisper. His eyes close as soon as your hand touches his face, and he's completely quiet now, save for the sound of his breath.
If it weren't for his heart beating, one would almost assume that he's dead. He's as still as a statue, as if the mere whisper of your touch could bring him shattering to his knees. "You," he murmurs again, his voice low, "you're everything. More. So many good things I'm not. You'reâ I would die for you. I would."
His grip on your arm tightens. "I'm lost in you⊠I'mâ" he trails off, swallowing thickly.
Pariston
"Somebody might-" "Let them," Pariston murmurs against your mouth. He's breathless, his face a few inches from yours, eyes wide and fixed in a mixture of reverence and adoration. "Let them look. Let them see your good man; your beautiful lover." He pulls you closer, bringing you flush against him. There's something almost feverish in the way he looks at you. "Let them see that you're mine. Let them know you're the only one that matters." "But-" "But?" His tone matches yours; gentle, questioning. "But what?"
His eyes search yours, as if he's almost afraid that you'll tell him to stopâ that he'll be forced to part from you, even for a second. He holds his ground, unmoving, his body pressed close to yours. Pariston smiles at you, a tender curve of the lips. It's a smile full of warmth and adoration.
It's the kind of smile that is utterly unguarded, a simple, unburdened smile that comes from nothing but love and affection. Pariston's tongue peeks out from behind his lips to moisten them. He brings a hand up to hold your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin.
"You look pretty when you're flustered," he comments. "And so flustered," he teases, his finger trailing lower down your face to brush against your neck playfully. "Are you scared that they'll think I'm taking advantage of you, my love?"
His hand slides down your arm; a shiver goes through you as his fingertips linger over your forearm. "Scared that they'll think that I'm making you mine?"
A pause, before he adds in a husky drawl that sounds more like a growl, "Scared that you'll like it?"
Phinks
"Only strong for you," Phinks murmurs with a soft gasp, breathless and trembling.
His arms tighten around you, fingers gripping your shoulders as he pulls you closer, needing to have you in his embrace. The only thought his mind is able to form is of you, of you, of you. Phinks breath hitches.
His fingers tighten around your waist. His lips part easily as his head cocks back and his breaths grow more urgent. He makes a low, soft sound as his fingers clutch tighter to your body, and he presses himself closer to you. Phinks can't get enough of this. He can't get enough of having you close, of having you so close to him. Of hearing you breathe, of feeling the weight of you on top of him.
He kisses you more roughly this time, tongue pressing against yours. One of his hands grips your waist, pulling you closer, and his fingers dig into your skin.
He pulls away and presses his lips to your neck, lips whispering against the skin.
"You drive me insane." One of his legs hooks around yours and he rolls, reversing the positions so that he is on top of you, staring down at you from above. He presses against you, fingers gripping your hips tightly.
Pokkle
"Me, shy?" Pokkle almost laughs, only holding in the sound with a stifled huff. He raises his face slowly to look at you, his eyes glistening just like they almost always do when he looks towards you. "I am not shy," he says. "I simplyâ"
His voice trails off once again and he looks down at his feet. He lets out a low, shuddering breathâ he's never been a good liar. He lets out a quiet, breathless laugh.
"I'm not getting shy at all. I'm not. I justâŠ" He looks up, eyes meeting yours almost immediately, like a flower seeking sun. "A moment of weakness. A brief vulnerabilityâ I-"
He sighs. God, he is a bad liar.
"Shut up and keep kissing me." You whisper, leaning closer to him. Pokkle freezes at that order. His breath stops in his chest. For a moment, it seems he's stunned speechless by the statement.
And then, he reacts. All he does is stare for a second, and you catch a spark of something new in Pokkles eyes. "Okay," he says; his voice is barely a whisper as he responds to you, soft and just a little bit breathy. He pulls you close.
Razor
His hands are gentle as he touches you, as he runs his fingers over you like you are pure light. Razor loves to tease you, loves to hear your little whimpers and gasps as his touch slides over you. "Did you do that on purpose?" Razor asks, voice slightly breathless as he presses his thumb over the spot were he just left his mark. "I don't believe you're this bad at practicing nen." there's a slight edge to his voice, "and I know you aren't that bad."
"Orâ maybe," he murmursâ "I'm just that skilled at making you lose your focus." Razor lets his fingers dance over your skin while your heart beats faster under his touch. "You're so easy," he muses. His tongue slips out, running the tip along the seam of your lips. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky whisper:
"You're so desperate just for me to touch you."
His fingers dance along the inside of your shirt as they slip under the fabric, caressing the warm, supple skin beneath his fingertips. He kisses you again. His teeth close around your bottom lip. He nips at your mouth with more force. He gently bites and sucks and pulls until you're letting out the pretty noises that drive him crazy. When he releases your lip, a thread of saliva still connected to his mouth, he grins against it.
"You're not very quiet at all."
Shaiapouf
His kisses are soft, as if he is touching a piece of art that could crumble under the pressure of his own touch. He holds your gaze as he does, eyes wide and open, like a child that has seen something that has rocked his very world. His tongue is soft and slow against your mouth, warm and gentle like the summer sun. His body is warm as well, every muscle under his clothes as taut as tautrope. He moves slowly, languid, languid. He would not speed the pace on his own accord. He's content to worship you with his lips. His mouth moves to your neck, his lips brushing against the bare skin, soft as satin.
He's silent as he presses kisses against your throat, his nose brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. He inhales your scent, as if it alone was a sacrament he was consuming.
He moves lower, his mouth moving to the hollow of your throat. He pauses there, then moves down to the collarbone, his hair splaying across your skin. Shaiapoufs tongue runs along the contour of your collarbone. He lets it dance across the skin of your collarbone, as it would a melody on the strings. He presses gentle kisses there, moving his way back up along your throat to your jaw.
His hands are at your face, stroking softly across your cheek, your chin, your jaw. His touch is like a caress. He strokes over your lips.
Shalnark
A small whimper sounds in the back of Shalnarks throat as your lips meet. He is quick to return the kiss, as if every fiber of his being is focused on that one singular contact. He reaches up, resting his palm against the curve of your jaw, turning your head so that he can deepen the kiss.
His breath is hot against your skin, his other hand gripping your waist, fingers digging hard into the fabric of your clothes. "You're mine," he murmurs against your lips, almost desperately. His fingers tug at your clothes, trying to pull you closer. If he could have, he would have torn them from you, and then your body, so that he could have you even closer.
Shalnark tongue brushes over your lower lip, and he makes a soft soundâa small whimperâas he does so. He is desperate, and his touch is rough. In that moment, he simply wants to be close to you. Nothing more. Nothing less.
"Mine," he mumbles, again.
Shoot
Shoot melts into your kiss, a soft gasp of surprise escaping him as you kiss him, and he responds quietly, his hands hovering as if afraid to touch you. He's timid, but also hungry, desperate to feel your lips upon his.
His body presses against yours as your lips touch, and he makes another soft gasp as his hands finally touch your skin. You take his hands in mine and place them on your waist. Shoot hands freeze as they slide against your waist. His fingertips touch your hip, gently wrapping around you. He swallows hard, the sound loud in the quiet, as he pulls you closer. He lets his fingers explore your back, sliding up to your shoulders. His hands are cold, but not unwelcome. He keeps going, as if he's lost himself in the simple pleasure of touching you. "Your skinâŠit's so warm," he murmurs, voice a little breathless. The words are like smoke from his lips, his body shivering against yours. "I didn't expectâ"
A soft noise sounds from his throat, and Shoot tugs you closer against himself, his body molding against yours like clay. "It's been too long. I've missed the touch of warm skin," he complains, leaning forward to bury his face into your neck.
Uvogin
Uvogin is in controlâ a gentle yet calloused hand against the sensitive skin of your jaw, lips moving against yours. When he speaks, his voice is soft, gentle, and deep- "Mmmm, I could kiss you forever." He murmurs against your lips, his thumb tracing soft patterns upon your neck, as if mapping out the shape of your pulse.
He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, gently nipping, then kissing again. He's pinning you against a wall, his body trapping you against it, his hips against yours.
Another kiss, deep and hungry, tongue pressing against your lips in an almost desperate demand for more of you. Uvogin doesn't speak, his mouth busy, claiming, exploring. His hands roam up your back, pulling you flush to his chest. "You're so perfect," he mutters in between kisses, his voice husky, heavy with a desire he seems unable to control. One hand slides into your hair, holding your head in place, his body pressing you down, holding you in place against the wall.
His lips travel down your jawline, across your neck, teeth nipping and tongue soothing in a pattern that is both maddening and delicious.
Wing
Wings tongue slips between your lips as he draws you in for a kiss. His hands grip at your body, pulling you close, pressing you close until you can barely move. His head tilts slightly to the side, lips moving at a slow, torturous pace. He seems to drink you in, savoring the taste of you. He's gentle, oh so gentle, and yet at the same time he can't bring his lips away from yours. "Please," he whispers, his voice a low growl when he pulls away just enough to speak. "Please don't let me go, not now. I haven't seen you in weeks."
Wings arms are wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you tight against him as if he'll die if he lets you go.
He presses his body close to yours, his head leaning on your shoulder. He's desperate for a moment of peace and your presence, and yet he knows that you could leave at any moment. "I won't." Wing grip around you tightens at those words. He inhales shakily, his body shuddering. His breath brushes over your neck, warm against your skin.
"Say it again." He demands, lifting his head to look up at you. Despite his firm tone, his eyes are soft, almost pleading. He's desperate to hear it from you, for you to reassure him.
"I won't leave you." When you promise him that, he releases a shuddering breath. "Thank you."
lover boys who are down bad for you, worshipping the ground you walk on like you are some goddess. if someone asks how did they pull you they wouldn't know what to say.
"i don't even know man.."
he patiently waits for you to finish trying on all the dresses that caught your attention in the mall. carrying your bags hell he even knows how to wear your purse without making it look weird on him.
switches shoes with you when your feet starts to hurt from all that walking, offering to carry you on his back. when you get home you always give him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you gift.
"why are you looking at me like that?"
you often ask him that question, he says he likes watching you do your things. he does, but that's not the real reason. he loves the way your eyelashes look when they are curled, the way you pout your lips when you think so hard about something, how your eyebrows are furrowed when you get upset at something.
he buys you small things or expensive things because he thought you would like it. huh? so what if it's nearly the rent of your apartment? as long as his girlfriend likes it he has no regrets.
he flexes you when he notices people are googling at you, showing them that no one can have his pretty girl. only he can.
he just loves his pretty girlfriend so much and he is not afraid to show it
kimetsu no yaiba: RENGOKU, tanjiro, zenitsu, giyuu, GENYA, gyomei
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 ââhaving 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 đ€
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a/n: Hope you enjoy! Apologies for Chrollo being meh, I kept re-writing his section OTL
Chrollo Lucilfer
The moment you say it, like it's a throwaway confession in a game meant to get a rise, Chrollo stills. His glass never makes it to his lips. His gaze finds yours as if he were flipping to the most important page of a book he's read cover to cover. "Is that so?" he murmurs. He doesn't ask for details. He doesn't need them. Everyone else keeps laughing or gasping, but he's already decided that this is no longer a game.
When the others have gone, or rather, when he makes them leave, he closes the door behind him and approaches you slowly. "You gave that information freely," he says, fingertips brushing your chin as he tilts your face up. "If you give me permission to, I would like to reward that honesty." There's nothing rushed in the way he presses you back onto the couch. "Once," he murmurs, breath ghosting your skin, "will not be enough."
Illumi Zoldyck
The room goes silent after your confession, too silent. You glance over, only to find Illumi staring at you with that unblinking intensity of his. "No one?" he echoes, voice flat, as if he misheard. There's some quiet agitation that doesn't show clearly on his face. He doesn't laugh like the others, doesn't shrug it off. "That's... insufficient," he adds, almost to himself. "Unacceptable, if we were together." It's not jealousy. Just a simple statement that no one blinked at for the rest of the night.
When you're finally alone together, he wastes no time. His hands are clinical, yes, but precise, and with every slow, deliberate movement, it becomes clear he's not treating this like a simple hook up. It's a mission. A point of pride even. "I learn quickly," he murmurs, watching your reactions with eerie fascination, as though each moan is new intel he's memorizing. "And I don't fail." His pace never falters until you're trembling beneath him, breathless and wrecked, and only then does he lean close enough to whisper, "I think I rather would like it if you belonged to me. Do you agree?"
Feitan Porter
Feitan's eyes cut to you the second the words leave your mouth. He doesn't ask questions, doesn't even change expression, but you feel the shift in the air like the crackle before lightning hits. "Hn," he mutters eventually, almost to himself. "That's stupid." Then, with a scoff and a flick of his fingers, he stands and walks off like the conversation bored him. The others keep laughing, but you know he heard you properly.
Later, he doesn't knock. Just shuts the door behind him and says, "Get on the bed." There's no preface or flirtation, only a low, steady command as his eyes drag over you. "They had no idea what they were doing," he mutters as his mouth settles between your thighs. Feitan's not gentle, not in the slightest, but he's deliberate, efficient, and cruelly good at making you fall apart. He doesn't stop at one. He doesn't even pause. Not until your legs tremble and your voice breaks. Only after your third one does he pulls back, lips slick, and says coolly, "Now they're erased. Only me in your head now."
Phinks Magcub
Phinks damn near chokes on his drink when you say it. "You're kidding," he blurts, eyes wide as he stares at you like you just admitted you've never had a steak. When you shake your head, his expression shifts more to a slow-simmering anger. "Tch. Whoever they were, they oughta be embarrassed." He leans back, arms crossed, "You really let that slide?" he mutters, quieter now, as if he's trying to talk himself down from storming out to find your exes. For the rest of the game, his focus is shot. He barely even cracks a joke, too busy watching you from the corner of his eye.
The second you're alone, he's already pulling you in by the hips. "C'mere. I'm settin' the record straight," he says, serious in a way that makes your stomach flutter. Phinks is all strength and confidence, but he reins it in just enough to keep from overwhelming, just enough to savor every twitch of your body under his touch. He groans when your thighs tighten around him, gripping your waist like he can't get enough. "Thaaaat's it," he groans against you, "I better be the only one you think about when you fall apart from now on, no matter where we go from 'ere."
Nobunaga Hazama
Nobunaga freezes with his drink halfway to his mouth, eyebrows shooting up at your casual confession. "Wait, hold on--what?" His voice cuts through the chatter, and he sets the can down hard, eyes narrowing like you just challenged him to a duel. "You're tellin' me not a single asshole's managed to do right by you?" His tone is half disbelieving, half offended, "That's just a damn shame. Should be a crime." He doesn't let it go either, throwing a sideways glare at the rest of the group, then glances back at you with a quiet resolve. "Guess that means it's up to me."
He's not subtle about it later. There's nothing rushed or polished, just his mouth and hands against your skin. "You're gonna remember me by the end of this." he says, voice rough as he buries his face between your thighs. His grip on your legs is firm, keeping you steady as he pulls you open and pushes you over with unrelenting hunger. "I'm not stopping untiI I hear you lose it," he mutters. And when it finally happens, when your body arches and your voice cracks, he doesn't say I told you so. He just kisses you, smirking like he won.
Shalnark
Shalnark blinks once, then tilts his head with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Really? No one at all?" His voice stays light, playful even, but the way he watches you now is sharper than before. "That's surprising," he adds, setting down his phone without looking away. "But... good to know." The rest of the game carries on, but Shal's checked out, already preoccupied with a much more interesting scheme.
Later, he's all sweet words and wicked intentions. "Just wanna help," he coos, kissing his way down your neck, fingers brushing softly over your hips. But his eyes never stop watching yours, "Let me see where they went wrong," he whispers. He times your pleasure like he's syncing to a rhythm only he can hear, smiling wider the closer he gets. And when your body finally gives in, trembling around him, he hums like he's proud of himself. "There we go. That's the reaction I was aiming for."
Leorio Paradinight
Leorio nearly spits out his drink. "What?!" His voice cracks a little, loud enough to make everyone laugh, but the shock on his face is painfully genuine. "You can't just drop that in a party game!" he sputters, staring at you like you just said the sky was green. Then his brows furrow and he leans in closer, suddenly serious. "Wait--Are you joking?--You're not joking. Unbelievable." He doesn't tease after that, not wanting to make it weird. For the rest of the night you catch him glancing your way, lips pressed together in thought and getting pissed at the very idea of anyone failing you.
When he has you alone, there's a nervous energy in the way he touches you at first, wanting prove something without rushing it. "Just...tell me what feels good," he says, one hand curling under your thigh as he settles between them. But he doesn't wait for complete answers, he learns. Fast. He's messier than the others, groaning into you with every shaky breath you take, gripping your hips when your moans crack. "That's it, sweetheart, there you go," he murmurs, face flushed. "Let me be the first one to actually do this right."
Hisoka Morow
The moment you say it, Hisoka goes still. But his grin doesn't fade, it grows. "Mmm, what a delicious little secret," he purrs, tilting his head as if you've gifted him something far more valuable than a cheap thrill. "No one's ever made you cum?" he repeats, almost giddy. "That's tragic, honestly. But lucky me~đ" He doesn't care who's around. In fact, he seems to delight in the way your face heats under his gaze, eyes sweeping over you like he's already undressing you, "I do love a challenge."
When he finally has you alone, Hisoka drags you to the edge of the bed and kneels with theatrical flair, but what comes next is anything but performative. His mouth is relentless, messy, and maddeningly thorough, dragging every sound from you with perverse delight. "Don't hold back now," he murmurs licking his lips of your juices before moving his way up to the main event, fingers digging into your hips. "You're so sweet when you're honest, pumpkin~â€ïž Give me more." When your back arches and you sob his name, he groans like won the grand prize, "Ahh, see? All it took was someone worthy of you." He hums, "And I'm. Not. Done. Proving it."
a/n: Yes, I put Hisoka at the end to make him an easy skip for people, you're welcome.
Imagine being a Kurta that survived the massacre for one reason: you look too much like Sarasa.
Platonic Phantom Troupe x Child! Reader x Platonic Yandere Kurapika
Youâre only one and a half when the massacre happens, and you canât understand whatâs going on really. You just feel your mother falling as she holds you.
âY/N -â she whispers, so quietly her attacker canât hear. Then sheâs gone, and the sun is blocked out by a man you donât recognise.
Uvo stops when he sees you. For a moment, he feels smaller and younger. Oh, he knows youâre not Sarasa. Heâs fully aware of that. But god do you look like her. The same hair, styled exactly the same, and the same big eyes, and⊠Fuck. Uvo isnât actually sure what to do. He should kill you, logically.
But then you smile innocently up at him, ignorant of your motherâs blood pooling around your feet.
And Uvo doesnât know what to do. Itâs one thing to see a resemblance, but you could be her twin.
He doesnât think about what heâs doing when he just shoves you into the furs heâs wearing. His idea is that he can just deal with it later. A bit of procrastination. Thatâs fine. And because youâre so small, and so trusting, you fall asleep and he canât even see you as youâre hidden by the fur.
Uvo is ashamed to say he forgets about you. He just goes back to an old cabin he found abandoned in the woods, the place where heâs been staying recently. He yawns and then tosses his furs onto the floor.
âOof.â Oh right. You. Oh shit. Uvo watches as you poke your head out of the masses of fur, still holding your bloodstained teddy bear. Your hair has come loose now, and you look like Sarasa did when the Troupe buried her. You even smile as if he hasnât just butchered your people and thrown you.
Shit. Uvogin has the last Kurta sitting on his floor, dazed and confused. Do you even know youâre not with your family? Are you even aware of death? Uvo thinks back to his earliest memories. After he affirms he canât remember his time as a toddler, he relaxes slightly. You wonât remember your time with your clan.
Yet heâs still panicking. You resemble Sarasa. You sound like her too. Heâs killed everyone you knew. Heâs too dangerous to have you here. He canât look at a face like Sarasaâs and kill you. Heâs too fucking confused. How did you sleep through the entire massacre? How were you so blindly trusting? Just. Like. Sarasa.
God, Uvoâs made such a big mistake. If heâd killed you back then, he couldâve got distracted by other thoughts. But now youâre in his house, and trust him like Sarasa did. He couldnât save Sarasa. He has saved you, albeit inadvertently. Shit, does that make you his responsibility? He canât just put you back in the clanâs woods and hope someone finds you. He doesnât want that either.
He canât kill you either. No, heâs made that impossible for himself now.
You, oblivious to his thoughts, or perhaps aware he needs to be away from them, make another noise and get to your feet, awkwardly staggering towards him before falling onto his leg.
Uvogin panics. âUh, no, kid. Not now.â Your lower lip trembles and your eyes fill with tears.
And you let out the heartiest wail Uvo has ever heard. How are you so goddamn loud? Youâre a fucking baby! If he was this loud, maybe he doesnât blame his parents for ditching him.
âOkay! Okay, jeez!â He reaches down and picks you up. Youâre so tiny compared to him. Like a clock ending its chimes, you shut up immediately. Uvogin blinks. Was that really all you wanted? Well, at least you seem easy to please.
Before Uvo knows heâs doing it, he pats your head. For the second time in his life, a small, innocent girl depends on him. And this time he doesnât intend on failing.
âAlright, kid. Lady at the store said this was good for babies.â Uvo holds up a bag of mixed vegetables. âPersonally I prefer meat and beer, but I donât know how many teeth you have yet, and most people say babies canât have alcohol.â Thatâs a shame, considering his fridge is mostly beer.
You donât really reply to him, but thatâs because youâre so focused on colouring in pictures. Maybe Uvo shouldnât have left you alone, but whatever. You seem okay. You usually cry if heâs not around though. Then again, youâre probably really hungry. Uvogin has decided kids are useless, because you donât eat any of the food he does. He tried to give you beef jerky and you spat it out, much to his annoyance.
âAnd I gotta stop calling you kid,â he says to himself. He walks over to you and gets down on his knees to seem less intimidating, though youâve not seemed to mind that yet. âWhatâs your name?â
You pause and then hold up your teddy bear. âBear.â
Uvo pulls a face. âNo, thatâs not - I mean your name.â Your last connection to your clan, apart from your eyes.
âBear bear!â you happily say, passing him your bear like it means anything. Uvo sighs. This wonât get him anywhere.
âDo you know what a name is? Naaameee.â He points at himself and then at you. âIâm Uvogin. Who are you?â
Nothing in your expression changes. Uvo thinks itâs for the better though. He wouldnât want to remember your old life anyway. âOkay, kid. This isnât working. So Iâm just gonna call youâŠâ He doesnât know if he can call you Sarasa actually. He doesnât want that to drive him mad. Or madder.
Uvo thinks for a moment. âEh, Gremlin will do. Youâre a gremlin anyway.â
âGremlin!â you repeat. Uvo nods. Yeah, thisâll work.
Nobunaga knocks at the door. Uvo should be home, even if this is a surprise visit. He just fancied going to a bar and drinking like always. When thereâs no response, he shrugs and just uses his key to open the door. Not like thereâs anything he hasnât seen anyway.
âUvo! Hey, Uvo?â Nobunaga makes it two steps before seeing you, sat on Uvoâs ratty old couch and drawing what looks like an awful interpretation of Uvogin.
Nobunagaâs soul all but leaves his body. What the fuck? He doesnât remember Uvo having a kid. Sure, heâs drunk most of the time he hangs out with his best friend, but Nobunaga thinks heâd remember that.
âUvo!â The man in question finally comes into the living room, hair damp. âUvo.â
âYeah?â
âUvo?â Nobunaga repeats for a third time.
âWhat?â
âWhy do you have a child?!â You donât even look like Uvogin! You look - Nobunaga sees it. Not as strongly as Uvo does, but enough to see Sarasa in your face as the light catches it.
Uvo just shrugs. âI dunno. I guess Iâm her older brother.â
That breaks Nobunagaâs stare, and he focuses on Uvogin again. âWhen did this happen?â
âA few weeks ago.â
âA few weeks? Uvo, thatâs a toddler! It takes more than a few weeks to make a-â
âSheâs not related to me!â Uvo says. Well, Nobunaga can clearly see that.
âOkay. Then whereâd you get her from?â He looks at you again. And realises. âUvo⊠Uvo, is that a - thatâs a Kurta?â
Uvogin shrugs again. âRelax. She doesnât remember any of it, and sheâs mine now anyway.â
Nobunaga runs his hand through his hair. This canât be happening. âOh my god. Sheâs a Kurta. Sheâs going to grow up, see Scarlet Eyes, and murder us.â
Uvo laughs like thatâs the most ridiculous thing heâs ever heard. âSheâs not a Kurta anymore. I told you. Sheâs mine.â He crouches slightly and faces you. âHey, kid. Come meet Nobunaga.â You put your crayon down and shuffle towards him. Uvo catches you when you stumble and puts you in an unwilling Nobunagaâs arms.
You squint up at him like youâre trying to make sense of him. âNo⊠Nobu⊠NobaâŠâ
âNobunaga,â Nobunaga says.
You try for a bit longer and then point at him. âNobu.â
Nobunagaâs heart might have just melted. âYeah, Iâm Nobu. Thatâs right. Well done, kiddo.â
Uvo grins in the most little shit way possible. âKnew youâd like her.â
âI didnât want to like her! I came here for drinks! And now IâdâŠâ You gently touch his hair without pulling it.
Yeah, Nobunaga is pretty sure heâd die for you.
Nobunaga visits often, teaching you how to hold a stick like itâs a sword. You donât seem that interested though, as you just keep hitting him in the knees with it. Uvo encourages that.
Itâll be strange seeing Uvo without you today, but as the Spiders are all on a mission, Nobunaga assumes youâll be left at home. Not great for you mentally, but what can he do?
His assumption is very wrong.
Uvo is uncharacteristically late, which already gets the troupeâs attention, but when little footsteps echo down the hallway, everyone goes from concerned do confused.
No. No, he wouldnât. He didnât. He couldnât.
Nobunagaâs jaw goes slack as you make your way slowly into the base, Uvogin, your 8ft 6 protector, strolling behind you.
âSorry Iâm late,â he bluntly says. âShe wanted to stop for crackers.â Thereâs a clatter and a thump, and Nobunaga sees Feitan and Chrollo have respectively dropped their sword and book.
âUvo!â Nobunaga yells. âUvo! What did we talk about? Why is she here?â You run over to him laughing and happy to see your âNobuâ.
âShe cries when I leave her alone for long,â Uvo explains. âI mean, sheâs a baby.â
The murmurs go quiet as Chrollo stands up and makes his way to you. Nobunaga doesnât miss the way Uvo keeps his eyes on you. Half pride and half worry that Chrollo will try see if you have your familyâs eyes.
Chrollo stops just before you. âUvo. Why is there a baby here?â He sounds so calm. How is he calm about this?
âOh. Sheâs my sister. Canât call her my daughter cause I donât know anything about being a dad, so Iâm her brother.â
âAh,â is all Chrollo says. A nice leader-like way to process this.
Then you finally look at Chrollo. The boss pales, if only slightly. His hands twitch before he controls them.
âShe looks like her.â Not everyone knows who heâs talking about, but those who do understand perfectly. Phinks goes as far as to do a double take.
âI know,â Uvo says. âThatâs why I forgot to kill her. And, uh, canât really do that anymore.â His gaze hardens. âAnd before any of you get any ideas, if her eyes turn red and you try taking them, Iâll tear you apart.â
So heâs basically shoved the fact youâre a Kurta out into the open air. Thereâs silence for a minute.
âNo,â Chrollo agrees as you put your tiny hand in his open one. âItâs a rule that Spider doesnât harm its own.â
You quickly get curious about these strangers, and so Uvo lets you wander around. Feitan hisses when you get close, and you hiss in return. He nods in a way that might be acceptance of your new standing. Machi would swear blind that sheâs not, but her eyes constantly follow you as you move around. Sheâd also swear she didnât form a tear at the sight of your face, but thatâs a lie too.
Eventually, you make your way to Chrollo, and the book that contains all the Nen abilities heâs taken. Uvoâs breath hitches. He doesnât know how Chrollo would react to that.
You point at the book. âBook.â
Chrollo freezes, and when he looks at you, his eyes are in a different time. Then when he blinks and lowers the book, he softens. âYes, little one. It is a book.â You pause and then run your hands over it gently, like you can practically tell itâs precious.
Uvo knows Chrollo is seeing the same thing as him. The same trust. The same innocence. The same bright presence.
You even flip through the pages. Chrollo doesnât even flinch. He even looks away, towards Uvo.
âWhatâs her name, by the way?â
Uvo smiles with pride. âGremlin.â
The entire Troupe explodes at that.
âUvo!â
âAre you fu - freaking kidding me?â Thatâs Phinks, remembering heâs in the presence of a toddler.
âHave you met a child?â
âThatâs not a name!â
âName her something normal!â Machi yells.
âI think Gremlin is a nice name,â Shizuku offers.
âName fits, in my opinion.â Uvogin would be mad at Feitan if he didnât have a point.
âIt doesnât fit!â Nobunaga protests. âShe only hits if she has a weapon!â
âShe likes it!â Uvo defends.
âGremlin!â They all go quiet at hearing you say your ânameâ.
âSee?â Uvo laughs. âShe likes it!â
Despite themselves, the Troupe end up adoring you, though not as much as Chrollo and Uvogin do. Five seconds after meeting you, Shalnark downloads tons of kids games, ones that are easy on the eyes for babies and not overstimulating.
However, he ends up liking them more than you do. Most of the time youâll get bored and wander off, while heâs furiously tapping at the screen and trying to beat the levels.
âNo, no, Gremlin! You need to catch all the apples! Look at what big brother Shalnarkâs doing! No!â
Uvo finds him three hours later, still playing.
Chrollo is besotted by you. Utterly besotted. He will more often than not be found with you instead of the other Spiders, putting on some classical music for you (though you prefer the loud rock that Uvo blasts).
He also takes it upon himself to teach you how to read.
âEvery child deserves literacy,â he argues.
Uvo scoffs. âShe doesnât need to know how to read, boss. Not gonna force her to go to school. Who the fuck needs to find the x in real life anyway?â
Despite these complaints, Chrollo buys you plenty of educational books, and begins teaching you the alphabet. Uvo suspects that Chrolloâs enjoying the teaching more than you enjoy learning.
âThe letter S is shaped like this. S is for âSpiderâ.â He taps the pen to his chest and yours. âSpider is us, okay?â
You could draw scribbles and barely legible letters and heâll praise you like you wrote a thesis. Chrollo ends up spending day after day lying on the floor with you, patiently teaching you until you have a reading ability far higher than your age. Yet no matter how much he says you need to be able to do these things yourself, he will read it to you.
Heâs grateful for how Uvo never comments on the fact most times, Chrollo will slip up and call you Sarasa.
While others in the Troupe tend to baby you, Feitan doesnât. Machi makes you clothes, and Phinks pretends youâve beaten him in wrestling, but Feitan doesnât do any of the sort. In fact, he acts almost tsundere towards you. Heâd die for you, doubtlessly, but heâll never let that show.
In fact, he has an odd little nickname for you. As you only called him Fei for the first year of knowing him, he retaliated and shortened âGremlinâ to âGrimâ. You could run up to him and happily start speaking about a new book or fighting move, and he will say âHello, Grimâ.
He did get you a smaller version of his umbrella for your third birthday (aka the day Uvo found you, because none of them know your birthday), and laughs when you âbeatâ Phinks in a wrestling match though.
Youâre six when they start planning to go to YorkNew.
And youâre the absolute spit of Uvo in personality. Youâre half wild and strong and feisty, and nothing at all like what a Kurta ought to be. You havenât killed before, but itâs only a matter of time. When you come of age, youâre going to be made into Spider 0. That was the conclusion Chrollo came to. Youâre the next generation of the Spider. The blank slate. The new beginning. Their symbol.
Also much like Uvogin, you only listen to Chrollo and the other members of the Spider. The rest of the world could burn in your eyes. Youâve never known anything but them. You donât want any other life.
Theyâve already warned you that out there are scary people who might want to hurt you for your red eyes. People who wouldnât care for who you are, or how much the Troupe love you. Because of that, Uvo taught you how to fight at a young age, and how do bite. Youâve inherited his volume and most of his personality, and his loyalty. Sometimes the Troupe genuinely forgets youâre not actually his sister, and youâre the last surviving Kurta.
Not that theyâd ever tell you what a Kurta is. You were never meant to be with that clan anyway. They couldnât even protect themselves, let alone you. Youâre just aware that Uvogin took you in and your biological family were too weak to be fitting parental figures.
Uvo loves you more than anything in the world. Youâre his legacy, and his kid. Maybe you started a a a replacement for Sarasa, but youâre a piece of him now too. He swears that he was meant to find you, and you were meant to be part of the Spider. Why else would you be born looking exactly like Sarasa?
Heâll still see her in you though. Especially when you trail after him and Chrollo with a fearless smile.
Uvo lost Sarasa. Heâs not losing you.
Kurapika sometimes hears stories about surviving clan members. All rumours, because he buried everyone who was said to survive.
Except one.
He never found you by your parents. Of course, heâs not foolish enough to think his baby sister is alive, but he hopes. He hopes so bitterly. He doesnât know how youâre still alive, but logic evades him when it comes to you.
Heâs got a reward on every Hunter website for your safe return to him. For there to be another Kurta, let alone it being his sister⊠he doesnât know how he could ever let you out of his sight again.
The car goes hurtling down the street, and you yelp and dig your nails into Feitanâs arms.
âGrim!â
âSorry, Fei-Fei!â
Shalnark brakes suddenly, and the car twists around. You look out the window for that split second. Thereâs a large group of people about, but no oneâs that focused on Shalnarkâs awful driving. You were meant to stay at the base until tonight, when the auction would be raided, but youâd so badly wanted ice cream. As soon as youâd mentioned it, Shalnark had the same craving, and so he, Phinks, and Feitan promised to take you.
Oh - someone is focused on the car. Some blonde boy.
Whoâs staring at you.
Itâs been four and a half years. The last time he saw you, you were barely able to walk. Your eyes hadnât even turned scarlet.
And yet youâre here.
Impossibly, perfectly here.
Kurapika knows Leorio will call him insane. After all, heâs only seen you for less than a heartbeat, and itâs been so long.
But he knows. He knows because heâs your big brother, and the world is less terrible when he knows youâre alive. It will never erase the pain of the massacre, but to have you back. If Kurapika couldâve brought back anyone, it would be you.
Uncaring of anything else, he breaks away from Leorio and Gon. Killua briefly calls his name, but he canât focus on that. All he can focus on is the fact youâre here. He doesnât even notice who youâre with.
He canât help switching into the Kurta tongue flawlessly despite how many years itâs been.
âY/N! Y/N, itâs me! Itâs Kurapika!â
The car races away and he canât keep up with it. But he can hear you from where the window is down.
You look back to the weird blonde guy and frown before turning to Feitan.
âWhat was that language?â
Feitan shrugs. âNever heard it before. Whatâs a Y/N?â
You shrug too. âI donât know. Canât be anything to do with us. Now can we get ice cream?â
âYeah,â Phinks adds, âbefore Shal murders us all.â You burst into laughter with your older brothers as Shalnark argues and protests and tells Phinks he can drive himself if itâs so awful.
âWhere is she?â Kurapika asks. The chain is wrapped around Uvoâs heart. Heâs so close to getting to you after so long. âI heard her say the name of your fellow Troupe member. Give her back to me and Iâll let you go free. Iâll let you all go free.â
Uvo laughs, and blood comes out of his mouth. âGo to hell, chain freak. Gremlinâs ours. Been like that since we found her.â Found her. As if theyâd just encountered you randomly. As if they hadnât killed your entire family.
Killed all but one. Kurapika tightens the chain.
âYou think,â Uvo manages, âIâm letting you drag my girl back to graves she doesnât remember? Sheâs happier if she doesnât know.â Kurapika knows heâs right about that. But damn it, your older brother needs you.
âYou kept her alive all these years. Why? You killed others far younger than her.â
Uvogin grins. âShe reminded me of someone. Couldnât leave her. I got attached too quickly. I loved her the moment I saw her.â
No. Thatâs not true. Kurapika loved you the moment he saw you, the moment your mother placed you in his arms and told him to meet his new baby sister Y/N.
âYou couldnât leave her,â Kurapika repeats. âSo you made her into one of you?â
âShe wanted to be with us!â Uvo yells. The chain is too tight. He has to be using all of his strength for this. âShe doesnât know anything about you! Doesnât even speak your language! Donât waste your breath trying to remind her! The others will kill you before you get to her! Sheâs mine! Do you hear me? Sheâs my daugh-â
The chain crushes his heart. Kurapika supposes he shouldâve asked for more information on the other Spiders. He doesnât care though. Any mercy he had is gone now.
You sit up and blink, startled from your nap. Nobunaga notices and intentionally loses the game of cards heâs playing with Shalnark.
âGremlin? You good?â He walks over to you. You frown. You feel fine. âWas it that ice cream? Shalnark, sheâs six! You canât just get her four scoops of ice cream. Sheâll be sick.â
âNo,â you interrupt. âI donât feel sick. I just feel⊠weird. Like there was something in my chest.â A faint ember of scarlet blossoms in your eyes as you concentrate to recall the sharp feeling. Nobunaga doesnât even bat an eye towards it, all of the Spider used to your eyes changing colour, and puts his hand on your forehead.
âYou feel fine. No temperature.â He then laughs teasingly. âItâs just because Uvoâs not back yet, I bet. Jeez, you really donât sleep well when heâs not around.â
Heâs not back yet? You look around the hideout like heâll appear.
âNobu, when is he coming back?â
âIâm sure itâll be soon, kiddo. Donât you worry. Uvo would sooner die than miss telling you your favourite bedtime stories.â He ruffles your hair, but not like how Uvo does.
You partially relax as the other Spiders reassure you too.
Besides, some strange instinct in you is stirring up, telling you that your big brother is starting to find his way to you right now.
with Chrollo nothing is really a gift, he always wants something in return especially if itâs somthing you asked for, he likes buying you things that are delicate, jewelry or vintage books that are really for him, heâs a fan of lace so youâll also receive a generous amount of lacy lingerie, and he expects you to wear them
ïżŒ ïżŒ
Feitan turns bare necessities into luxuries, pillows and blankets are a very well received gift from him as itâs almost always freezing in the basement he keeps you in for a long time before your trusted to go upstairs without constant supervision. Random little bags of candy are a treat he brings back from missions if youâve been good
Nobunaga is a total pervert, he gives you skimpy clothes and sex toys that he expects you to try with him, gifts that donât serve him directly are always bribes to get stuff out of you, he doesnât like giving you activities, in his mind the more bored you are the more likely you are to come to him for entertainment
Franklin he likes getting you activities that keep you busy, he doesnât care what kind of clothes you wear he takes basically your whole wardrobe from your old closet and lets you pick any new stuff you need or want, out of all the members heâs on the more bearable side
Uvogin gives you food whenever he wants to treat you, fresh fruit, sugary stuff, good takeout from your favourite restaurant after you were extra submissive in bed the day prior, he thinks good performance should be rewarded, the only other food you have access to is canned or expired and hardly edible to anyone that isnât 8â6 with the immune system of an elephant so sufficed to say youâll take whatever heâs willing to give you
Shizuku gets you things you can spend time building but also use afterwords, or cute things you can decorate your space with, legos, diamond art kits, stuff that a cute harmless things like you should you be doing in her mind
Shalnark likes getting video games or anything that you guys can do together, he also enjoys when you wear stuff in styles he likes so heâll get you a fair share of cute clothes or accessories he wants to see you in
Phinks he gets you stuff you need unless you ask for something extra, he doesnât just buy you little things, he wants you to come to him and ask for whatever you want, heâll almost never say no unless itâs dangerous or youâve been bad
Most of Pakunodas gifts come a couple months into your abduction, she likes getting you relaxing treatments and pink collar services, your hair and nails done by people who come to the apartment she keeps you in, sheâd love to treat you to these things earlier but she had to make sure you could be civilized first
Machi buys you copies of stuff you had at your old house, she takes photos of products you used to buy and scents you like, snoops through your old devices to see what kind of luxurious things you couldnât afford before and they randomly appear in your shower