a/n: change of pace from my usual arcane fics, i was thinking about some anime boys and well…yeah
been a while since i’ve watched some of these animes so i’m hoping my picks aren’t too ooc than they already are >.>
enjoy ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
cw: dubcon, noncon, nsfw - mdni 18+
his call comes late at night, rousing you from sleep when you hear your ringtone going off.
“o-oh, hey? what’s up?”
your voice drips like honey, so sweet and slightly rough from being woken up and he just knows you’re rubbing sleep from your watery eyes, none the wiser to what he’s doing on the other end of the line.
he tells you he’s feeling…ah, under the weather and he just needed a friend to talk to but don’t worry if you’re tired! he would absolutely hate to disturb you and he’s already lost too many friends from talking about his feelings.
needless to say, he’s got you hook, line and sinker. he won’t even be doing much of the talking.
easy prey.
his hand palms over his rock hard dick, it’s been that way since the mere idea of this popped into his head, as he listens to you chatter away about something he couldn’t care less about; he isn’t even trying to hide his breathless panting and the non-stop wetness of his dick, sloppy with precum, thrusting into his tight fist. the tip throbs an angry red as he holds back his release again and again and again just so he can continue getting off to your cute voice.
at some points, you ask him if he can hear some noises too and for a moment his heart stops and he wonders if you’ve caught him red handed.
but then he remembers that it’s just you, coddled and blissfully unaware of the sin that surrounds every aspect of life, so all he has to say is that his tv is on in the background and you’re back to talking again. perfect.
his blood is pumping red hot as his strokes grow uncoordinated and even more furious than they were before and he finds himself fighting the urge to ask you what you’re wearing. no that’s too much, too soon, so he instead chooses to bite down on his lip until the taste of iron fills his mouth. a small price to pay.
“helloooooo still there?” you call out after ten minutes of him being seemingly unresponsive, assuming he’s finally managed to fall asleep. you don’t bother to end the call, after all you know how comforting it is to sleep with your friend still on the phone after a bad day.
he imagines shoving his dick into your wet mouth mid-sentence, cock growing impossibly harder at the mental sight of your surprised face, you gagging because you’re unaccustomed to a dick his size - scratch that, any dick and all the debauched things he would teach you.
eventually he hears your gentle snores, of course you fell asleep before the main event, throwing his head back and grunting way louder than he did before knowing you definitely won’t be waking up. his chest heaves and legs shake from the orgasm that overwhelms him and he almost ends the call from the guilt rising inside of him - almost. but then he catches sight of his thick cum splattered right where your contact photo was and his cock twitches as if he didn’t just come seconds ago.
good thing you didn’t end the call; he decides he can have a little more fun with (or without) you - he still feels a bit under the weather, of course.
Reader is ── Female | Phantom Troupe member
Story is ── Romantic | Drabbles
Warnings ── Mentions of torture (not reader)
Chrollo
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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!
✦ ── 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
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── But you're just so disarming. You make every effort to touch him—usually his hair—and 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.
✦ ── 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
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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.
✦ ── 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.
Phantom troupe with a (gn!)reader that's a very quiet, they kinda seem useless because they really don't do anything just stand around but you can tell reader is strong because of their nen
But then chrollo is like "reader do your thing"
And it turns our reader has an ability like tusk or ger , so reader just throws the person into infinite spin or infinite death loop.
Idk, but all I can imagine is their shocked faces at reader's ability.
sure, hope you enjoy and thank u for requesting <33
Chrollo Lucilfer
Lowkey thought you were just... vibes. Like a pet cat with Nen. He had no idea why he let you into the Troupe except the aura you give off felt wrong in a way that interested him.
He’s unnerved by how still you are. You don’t ask for orders, don’t chatter, don’t offer opinions. You just… stand there like a decorative cursed doll.
Then, one day during a fight, he sees it.
You touch the guy once. Your Nen seeps into them like ink soaking cloth. And suddenly they’re screaming- falling into a loop of death that resets just before it ends.
Chrollo is fascinated. He wants your ability. He NEEDS it. You terrify him and he wants to keep you.
He’s weirdly polite to you from then on. Always says please and thank you. Never raises his voice. Never turns his back.
Pakunoda
She tried to read your memories out of curiosity, because you were so quiet and strange.
But she got nothing but swirling, non-linear fragments- your ability distorts even your own timeline. That shouldn’t be possible.
She looks at you completely differently afterward. You're unreadable, uncontrollable, and unkillable. That scares her, but she hides it well.
Becomes super protective of you even though she’s scared. Will absolutely shoot someone with a memory bullet for you on instinct now.
Machi
She used to lowkey roll her eyes when you were just standing around. Machi was like, “You better not expect me to babysit the mute weirdo.”
But then you casually erased someone from existence mid-fight by flicking your wrist and whispering something under your breath.
Machi saw them rip apart, reassemble, and die again on loop while screaming.
Afterward, she blinked at you and was like “…Huh.”
Never questioned you again. Always throws a thread your way mid-fight, just in case. Kinda looks at you like a cat watching a washing machine- wary but obsessed.
Nobunaga
Was the most vocal about not trusting you. “You’re not a fighter. You don’t even carry a weapon. You just stand there all creepy.”
He found out the hard way. Saw your ability activate and had a whole existential crisis. “What the hell is THAT?? That’s not even Nen anymore!!”
Now thinks you’re cursed. Refuses to spar with you and is visibly nervous if you’re behind him.
Will NOT let you touch him. He dodges like his life depends on it (it does).
Phinks
Always lowkey picked on you. Not mean, but annoying. Thought you were just some weird mascot.
Then you hit a Chimera Ant with your ability and Phinks watched it die ten times in the span of three seconds- screaming for mercy between loops.
“...What the actual hell?”
Stares at you differently now. Like you’re a loaded gun with no safety.
Gives you headpats when you’re not looking, though. You scare him but he’s weirdly proud of you?? “That’s our creepy little freak. Don’t touch ‘em, they bite.”
Shalnark
Thought your Nen had to be stealth or manipulation-based. Ran some tests. Tried observing your aura when you weren’t paying attention.
It gave him a nosebleed.
After witnessing the loop effect, he sat down and just muttered “That shouldn’t even be real. Nen shouldn’t do that. That’s like- beyond causality.”
He’s both fascinated and terrified. Wants to study you, but from a distance, like a bomb in a box.
Keeps logs on your energy fluctuations. Swears you might be from the Dark Continent.
Feitan
Immediately obsessed.
You give off “don’t touch me or I’ll consume your soul” energy, and he LOVES that.
After seeing you use your ability, he just looked at you and whispered, “More.”
Thinks your power is beautiful. Wants to work with you during tortures. Genuinely calls you “artistic.”
The only one who doesn’t flinch when you activate it. Stands right next to you and grins. Unhinged duo energy.
Uvogin
Was like “You’re so quiet. Come spar!!”
You declined.
Later, Uvo watched you toss someone into a time-splintered death vortex and his soul left his body.
He was like “……………..alright, I ain’t sparring you actually.” Still likes you, though. Thinks you’re cool.
Tries to high-five you. You never respond.
Franklin
He’s calm and level-headed, but even he was like, “What in the actual hell is their ability…?”
Thinks you’re the ultimate failsafe. As long as you’re around, the Troupe can never be completely cornered.
Talks to you more than the others. Knows you’re quiet but not dumb. Tries to include you in tactical conversations, just to show he respects you.
Genuinely trusts you with his back. You scare him in a good way.
Kortopi
He’s a little weird and unhinged too, so he felt oddly drawn to you even before your reveal.
After seeing your ability in action, he kept glancing at you and whispering, “Repeat. Repeat. Loop. Copy of time… endless…”
Doesn’t speak often, but when he does, it’s usually to you.
Bonolenov
He sensed something unnatural about you before anyone else.
After witnessing your power, he believes you are cursed- or blessed- by a god of infinite return.
Treats you with reverence. Like a priest to a cryptid. He never disrespects you, never jokes around. Thinks you walk between life and death.
Occasionally plays music in your presence without being asked. Quiet melodies, like a protective chant.
Shizuku
She just thought you were boring at first. She was like “Oh they’re just like me. Head empty.”
Then she watched you trap a person in a death loop where they feel their body split open over and over again, and she just stood there blinking.
“Huh. That’s cool.”
Becomes obsessed with watching you do it. Doesn’t even care if it’s enemies or test subjects. She’s just like “Do the spin thing again.”
Wants to name your ability something dumb like “Spinjutsu 9000”.
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 face— 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 ago— 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 bliss— his body pressed against yours, his hands gripping you tight, holding you close to him.
The man is a kiss-soaked mess— 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 you…" 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 hungry— 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, so—" 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.
"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 hands— 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." 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 you— your form, the way your hair bounces as you move, the way your clothes mould themselves against you— 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 me—"
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 cheeks— 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 hungry— 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 millimeters— 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. "Bab…I 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 slightly— 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 — 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 mine…" 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 old— 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 need…"
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're— I would die for you. I would."
His grip on your arm tightens. "I'm lost in you… I'm—" 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 stop— 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 simply—"
His voice trails off once again and he looks down at his feet. He lets out a low, shuddering breath— 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 just…" He looks up, eyes meeting yours almost immediately, like a flower seeking sun. "A moment of weakness. A brief vulnerability— 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."
"Or— maybe," he murmurs— "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 sound—a small whimper—as 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 skin…it'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 expect—"
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 control— 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."
with Chrollo nothing is really a gift, he always wants something in return especially if it’s somthing you asked for, he likes buying you things that are delicate, jewelry or vintage books that are really for him, he’s a fan of lace so you’ll also receive a generous amount of lacy lingerie, and he expects you to wear them
 
Feitan turns bare necessities into luxuries, pillows and blankets are a very well received gift from him as it’s almost always freezing in the basement he keeps you in for a long time before you’re trusted to go upstairs without constant supervision. Random little bags of candy are a treat he brings back from missions if you’ve 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 don’t serve him directly are always bribes to get stuff out of you, he doesn’t like giving you activities, in his mind the more underestimated you are the more likely you are to come to him for entertainment
Franklin he likes getting you activities that keep you busy, he doesn’t 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 he’s 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 isn’t 8’6 with the immune system of an elephant so sufficed to say you’ll take whatever he’s 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 he’ll 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 doesn’t just buy you little things, he wants you to come to him and ask for whatever you want, he’ll almost never say no unless it’s dangerous or you’ve 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, she’d 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 couldn’t afford before and they randomly appear in your shower
TW: non-con/dubconish, kidnap, stockholm syndrome.
Getting fucked so hard by your captor that your literally so sore, and after you get out the shower everything burns from how many times he engraved his nails in your skin during sex. When you get out of the shower, he comes up to you to hug you from behind. Kisses the parts of your neck were bruises, and hickies linger. You two eventually fall asleep in your shared bed together. He does all of this because he loves you, and you're slowly starting to give into sickening his warmth.
Warnings: Non-con, dub-con, female reader, vaginal sex
His eyes are shining with happiness, his body is shaking and trembling, yet…
He's happy~
The tip of his cock hit exactly where it should and for the first time… you came on his cock.
That means… you like it? You like what you are doing! You're enjoying it even as you tearfully beg for him to stop!
He took your tearful face in his hands, caressing your cheeks sweetly with the tips of his fingers.
He's just desperate for your love, needy for your acceptance and now that he's deeply inserted inside you while your teary eyes are clouded with pleasure, he can't help but feel like he's in heaven… you're his heaven, his glory, his everything.
"You look… so beautiful when you cum…" He gasps, kissing your cheeks softly and wetly.
You whimper when he lets go of your face and his fingers aggressively dig into your hips.
It was really just a matter of seconds before he resumed his thrusts on that sweet, rubbery spot making you see stars.
"I love you… fuck… I love you so much" He whimpers, nibbling on your earlobe "You don't need anyone else, I promise you'll only need me… I'll make you feel so good…!"
What do the Phantom Troupe men do when you're on your period?
Warnings: yandere male x fem reader, mentions of dubcon & noncon, implied period fetish, general weird and creepy behavior, power imbalance
Shalnark loves it when you're on your period. He prefers having "dirty" sex whenever possible. Meaning he likes withholding showers to keep you both musty. It brings down your self-esteem a lot, much faster and lower than whatever Feitan can imagine. He enjoys having that power over you, but he won't lie and say it doesn't do something for him. He indulges in your natural state and having you bleed on his bed gets him excited. Doesn't matter if you're screaming at him to give you space during the week, he'll barge into the room and take his fill.
Nobunaga and Uvogin are munchers even on your period. They'll bother you on each cycle to let them "help" you through it. Nobunaga asking is more for formality; he's super pushy, almost forceful about the ordeal. Meanwhile Uvogin will accept your refusal. He holds out hope that you'll give in one day if he keeps pestering offering assistance every month. Doesn't have to be his mouth or dick if that's too intimate. Look at his hands and fingers! He's sure you two can work something out.
Phinks and Feitan on the other hand? Not so much. Phinks is surprisingly squeamish around the idea and understands that you're uncomfortable so he'll let you be. Feitan is massively grossed out with the idea completely. Unless he's the cause of making you bleed, he doesn't want to be near you during your menstruation. The feeling's mutual with these two.
Illumi is indifferent about it. He'll leave you alone unless he wants to receive an earful from his mom. For the first time ever, she's on your side. She'll send servants to your shared room to bring you warm towels and chocolates if you request it. No medication, though. She won't budge on that and neither will Illumi.
Chrollo is the most charitable out of everyone. He keeps track of your cycle and prepares for it with medicine, a heat pack, and curated meals to help you through it. He's also gone through the hassle of picking out the type and brand of feminine hygiene products you've previously used. The catch? You have to involve him to gain access to the extra luxuries besides the necessary ones. If you're cramping really bad, you have to ask Chrollo if you can please use the heating pad to make it go away. He'll happily oblige with chocolates, tea, and extra blankets in tow if you let him hold you close with his hand over the heating pad to "make sure it doesn't get too hot to burn you". He's not bad as the others, but you will like some personal space.
