illumispuppet

Latest Posts by illumispuppet

Mahito x darling

WC: 1.7k

TW: NSFW, noncon, f!reader, psychological torture, Mahito in and of himself

Mahito is so scary because you're the only one who sees him. 

You can't tell your friends, you can't call the cops, you can't even discuss it with your therapist for fear of being committed. 

You're all alone with him – half the time convinced you’re going insane.

He doesn't even need to kidnap you. Why would he? He likes your cozy apartment. To see you in your natural habitat with all your personal trinkets. Your books, your decorations, the contents of your fridge, your makeup, your clothes, not to mention the soft warmth of your bed…

Sure, his sewer has its charm, but you probably wouldn’t like it there very much. Not that it would stop him, but he’s sure you’d be boring if all you did was stay cooped up there all day. 

This is much more interesting. To be there when you come home from work, having trifled through all your belongings, dragged everything out – made a mess like a new puppy would. To watch you try to cling to your sanity, going about life, trying to live it normally even when he’s right there on your sofa wanting to dish about how much you loath your pissy boss or that loud neighbor and what fun it might be to kill them.

You brush him off as intrusive thoughts – a manifestation within your mind. That’s the only explanation that allows you to keep your wits with you.

But it’s become hard to bring anyone home. Even though others can't see him, he’ll walk about your friends and the odd date and comment on all the things they do, ridiculing them when they say something cheesy, feigning puking before giving it away with a snicker, then asking you why you bother hanging out with them at all. And you wonder if that’s what you really think… why else would a figment of your imagination say something like that?

No. You decide. He doesn’t represent your thoughts. He’s just… a roommate who knows no boundaries. 

Funny enough, you don’t really recognize that he’s any dangerous before you’re getting dressed after a shower, opening a drawer on your dresser you rarely look in – only to find it overfilled with dozens of tiny shrunken heads.

You scurry back on the floor with your hand clasped over your mouth until your back meets your bed – skin crawling. There’s no air left in your lungs from the shock to produce any such thing as a scream – so instead, you start heaving – then crying.

“Oh – I was wondering when you’d find them!” A cheer is heard from your bedroom threshold.

Your eyes pan to look at him – or it. Mahito, with a big grin on his face – clapping as though impressed by your performance.

“Wh-what – what is this?” You splutter, trying not to throw up – casting shifty glances over at the lump that had fallen to the floor – its face twisted with agony, unrecognizable, but you think you still knew… “What have you done?”

It doesn’t smell of rot, but something else – like unwashed clothing – sweat and piss and shit – you don’t understand how you hadn’t smelled it before. You don’t understand how you hadn’t heard it before – the moaning, though only in hoarse weak voices, still there, in a chorus, crying in pain.

“I’ve been studying them.” He says – casually, padding across the floor before bending down to pick the one up.

He looked at it with disappointment, throwing it up and catching it like one would a baseball – then clicked his tongue. 

“But I must say you’ve got boring taste… I don’t feel like I learned much of use from any of them at all.” 

He drops it to the floor in a fleshy splat, and you cringed anew – wanting to crawl away, wanting to get out, to call the police – maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to be committed – maybe there was something genuinely wrong with you…

Mahito doesn't share your concerns, though. He’s got his mind on other things. 

“I think I’ll learn better through practice.”

You don’t realize what he’s talking about before you’re being lifted up on the bed and then pushed down against it.

His lean but muscular frame has you dwarfed as he crawls after you – caging you between his arms and legs.

“I wouldn’t mind the floor, but I’m sure you’d prefer the bed. That’s how you humans usually like it, right?” He smiles – as though he’s doing you a favor. 

He’s taken off his usual tunic – showcasing a pale grey chest patchworked together in crude stitches – and you don’t really understand why you’d ever conjure something that looked like it. So human, yet still… so not. 

“I didn’t know what size you’d want – they were all so different – but I think bigger is better, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t register before you feel the weight of it on your stomach. 

Fat and warm, ridged with veins and hard against you. 

Looking down, feeling the situation settle on your skin like the raw cold – you realize, though you don’t understand it – Mahito isn’t just some imaginary friend. 

Whatever he is – he’s no such thing as a friend at all.

Your chest flares. “Mahito, no – ”

Your hands fly to try and push him off, but they’re easily caught. His fingers stretch inhumanly like playdough, using only one hand to reign in both wrists, pinning them to the pillow above you.

“No? Still too small?” He asks, as though your uproar had been a cry for more – his voice in a playful lilt. “I can make it bigger if you like~”

You squirm when the thing between your thighs grows an inch – swelling up into something fatter than your wrist – weighty and twitching atop you. 

It alone churns your guts, but the sight of his face gleaming so innocently makes it all so much worse. 

You whimper as he drags a rude finger through your folds – bluntly poking at your hole.

“You’re supposed to be wet, no?” He posed, keen eyes watching your face grimace in discomfort – drilling his digit inside you despite it. 

When knuckle-deep, he curled it, nail scraping into the gummy of your tender walls – making your whole body twist with an ache, shaking your head while sinking your teeth into your lip.

“Stop-” You croaked pitifully, still trying to wring your wrists free – but the hand keeping them jailed had hardened into something that was no longer skin.

He just yawned at your struggle. “So noisy...” Bored while looking down at you and the ugly way your lips curled at his crude fingering – but then his eyes widened. “Wait – oh! I get it now! So, this is what kissing is for…”

He didn’t give you much time to turn away before his mouth locked on yours – more in an attempt to swallow than to kiss, feeding you his tongue – which felt so much longer than it should be – winding through you until it licked your gag-reflex and made you choke.

You tensed in response, clenching the finger prodding you – and he took it as an invitation to squeeze another in – making you squeal out a sob in his mouth. 

But though it was a cruel ministration, it was enough to tickle the instinct – dragging wet out from within you, bathing the digits that now slid with greater ease in and out.

“See~ I told you I’d learn better through practice...” He mumbled against your lips – having felt the change – also noticing the quiet that befell you… looking so cute beneath him. 

He chuckled – the taste of your kiss still warm and wet on his lips.

“That really did shut you up, hm~ you humans are so funny.”

That thing resting heavily on your belly does a little jump, and you flinch with it. Left panting after being throat-fucked by a tongue – you’re really only able to shake your head as he slips the beastly thing down between your thighs – its fat head licking your clit on its way until kissing your entrance.

Two fingers haven't done you any justice – nothing could – to prep you for something of that size.

“I think this is correct…” He muses, nudging himself against the slim coin-sized hole – looking a little confused while he did so – though not exactly unsure of himself… more as though it was the whole procedure in and of itself that was at fault and not him. He was just following instructions, after all.

Sucking his teeth at the tautness, he continued to press the tip through you. 

A whine was ripped from your chest as it arched off the bed – thighs quaking on each side of his hips, kept spread despite wanting to force themselves shut.

“It’s better if you relax.” He offered then, though without much sympathy. Sounding almost jaded – as though you were keeping him waiting. 

But then a thumb pressed down on your clit, forcing another jolt to rush through you. 

“Women like to be touched here, right?” He rubbed crass circles into it – worse than amateurishly – rough patterns that bore no real intention of making you feel good. 

Then his mouth slid from your mouth, down your neck – only to sink teeth in your tit.

“And here~” He giggled while nomming your nipple, rolling the little nib between his teeth before flicking over it with his tongue again and again, sucking on it harshly.

None of it made you relax like he’d suggested. Either way, he continued to sink his length one thick chub at a time as fast as your hole allowed. And soon enough, he reached your end before your hole could reach his. But that was no issue…

The hand on your clit, cupped your mound instead – and beneath it, where warmth pooled, you felt inner things alter – change, rearrange, allowing the giant member inside you to sink deeper even though you knew there couldn’t possibly be any deeper to go.

“Wow~ look at that…” He awed when his pelvis smushed against your mound – kneading into your clit as he pressed a curious hand down on the bulge he was making in your belly.

Strings of drool stuck from his lips to your chest – and a sick look pooled in his eyes.

Thicker and thicker breaths left him. He swallowed thickly. Barely blinking.

“I think I get it now…” His voice had shed its humorous tone, now sounding soft with something you didn’t want to have the attention of. “It’s like our souls are playing together…” 

His hand stroked your stomach – like he was petting something.

“Feels good.”

Title: Meet Cute.

Pairing Yandere!Illumi x Reader (HxH).

Word Count: 1.5k.

TW: Violence, Mentions of Blood, and Implied Kidnapping.

The first thing you noticed about Illumi was, unsurprisingly, his hair.

Black as ink, waist-length, allowed to fall in front of his face in a way that just managed to draw more attention to his dull, glassy eyes. It caught the club’s technicolor lights in a way you couldn’t really describe – distorting everything, turning it muted and silvery and dark. That was what you tried to focus on as you approached him, shouldering past people dancing and carrying drinks back to friends already too inebriated to stand. You would’ve liked somewhere more open, less crowded, but you didn’t pick the spot, and there’d be time for that later on, another day, another night.

Right now, you just wanted to talk to the strange man nursing a neon-dyed cocktail and staring blankly at the far wall.

“Hey,” You started as you reached the bar, letting your coat fall off of your shoulders, down to the bends of your elbows. The bartender glanced towards you, but you waved her off, turning to face Illumi, instead. “All by yourself?”

He didn’t say anything, not immediately. At first, you thought he hadn’t heard you, that the music was too loud or you were too quiet or he just didn’t care to entertain your attempts at conversation. But, in a few seconds, he let his head lull to the side and clicked his tongue, taking another generous sip from his drink before answering. “I wasn’t,” He said, nodding towards the other side of the club, towards a man with pink hair and his hands on a woman’s hips. You flinched, about to panic, but if there was any jealousy in his tone, any anger, you couldn’t find it. Just the slightest trace of annoyance, as if someone had stepped on his foot or cut him in line. “But I think I may be, now.”

You let out a breathy laugh, and finally, his attention shifted, centering itself vaguely on you. “Don’t worry, I got ditched too. You know what it’s like with that kind of friend – here one second and gone the next. Never with any warning, obviously, ‘cause that’d make it too easy on the rest of us.” You paused, crossing your arms over the countertop. “At least we can be alone together, though.”

Another moment of silence, just a beat longer than the last. He seemed to evaluate you, gaze flickering from your shoes to your chest to your face – all without ever making any effort to hide his inspection. When he was done, his expression seemed to change, to relax, if only enough for his scowl to soften into what was still definitely a frown, but one portrayed something more apathetic than irritated. “I was about to leave,” A glance toward the pink-haired man, just to make sure he was still busy, then back to you. “Will you come with me, if I do?”

It took you a moment to process the question.

Oh.

Oh.

That was easier than you'd expected it to be.

You nodded, a little too quickly, then remembered how to speak, stumbling over your words as you rushed to reply. “No, yeah, I’m good—I mean, I will, I—” You grabbed his hand, already tugging him towards the exit. “Let’s go.”

There was a breath of a chuckle, a brush of his bicep against yours as he stepped in front of you to take the lead. You started to let go of him, but he only took you by the wrist, in return, giving you a strange look over his shoulder. You didn’t try to distance yourself from him again.

The club was crowded, but the street outside was nearly empty, occupied solely by a handful of pedestrians and a few couples sitting on the curb, waiting for a ride or trying to sober up before their walk. If Illumi was drunk, if he was even buzzed, you couldn’t tell. He didn’t stumble, or lean on you, or seem flustered at all beyond a light flush dusted across his cheeks, just barely visible in the dim streetlights. You’d arrived after him, had half as much to drink, but you still managed to trip over your own feet, to give yourself an excuse to lean into his side and hold onto his arm as you muttered apologies. Again, if he was affected, if he cared, you couldn’t tell. It certainly didn’t show in his voice, when he next spoke. “My hotel isn’t far. You’ll make it.”

“Ah, a hotel?” Your grin widened, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

There really was no one on the street. You’d gotten lucky with the timing – too late to catch anyone coming home from work or heading out for their night shift, but too early for you to have to worry about people draining out of closing bars. You might've thanked him, if that'd been an option. “I’m not. My colleague and I are just in town for work.”

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I take people out.”

Your smile faltered, but barely. “Like... an escort?”

“Not exactly…” He trailed off, a smile ghosting over his lips for the first time that night. “Like an assassin.”

You didn’t say anything, for a second.

Then, you laughed harshly, loudly, until your chest hurt and you were holding onto him for support. “You’re really funny, Illumi,” You said, hooking your arm around his and dragging him off course, into a narrow alleyway – barely wide enough to let two people stand side-by-side. “C’mon, I know a shortcut. You’ll thank me in a few minutes.”

The reassurance was unnecessary. He didn’t argue, even as you led him down the side-alley, even as the streetlights faded into total darkness, even as you came to a wire fence taller than you could possibly hope to climb with any kind of dignity. When you pulled away, letting him go completely, he smiled – a full-blown smile – with that kind of ‘I trust you, but what’s going on?’ lilt. You only shrugged, clasping your hands behind your back, underneath your coat.

Before he could run, before he could react, you found the hilt of the knife tucked into your waistline, pressed into the base of your spine. One motion. Draw the blade, get it in both hands, then plunge it into his neck. Just one motion. It’d take less than a second. One motion, then it’d be done.

He caught your wrist as soon as you raised the knife, and in the blink of an eye, you were thrown forward, into the fence, his other hand wrapping around your throat to keep you in place. “I was starting to wonder when we were going to get around to this.” He was grinning wildly, now, his eyes wide and his lips pulled thin. It looked painful. It looked wrong. “Is someone paying you, or is this just a hobby of yours?”

You bared your teeth, in response, snarled, but he only tightened his hold on your wrist and you cried out, automatically dropping your weapon. You opened your mouth, but he cut you off before you could start to curse him out. “Please, don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to have to kill you so early on.”

You hesitated, but his nails dug into the sides of your neck and his palm pressed into your windpipe and you relented before he could change his mind. There were very few places you would want to be gutted by a total stranger, and a dirty alleyway wasn't on your list. “Paid,” You managed to spit out, and instantly, his grip loosened. His smile didn’t ease up, but you tried to look away. “I don’t know his name, and he paid me in cash. He just said—He said that your family fucked him over, and—”

There were footsteps, coming from the main street. You held your breath, for a moment, considered screaming, but a man’s silhouette came into view before you could, then over-styled pink hair, and…

And blood. Coating his hands, smeared across his street, spotted over his clothes. Immediately, you felt bile begin to rise in your throat.

He hadn’t been joking.

They were murderers. Fucking murderers.

Fuck.

If Illumi was alarmed, he didn’t show it. You were beginning to think he was just like that – as stoic as he was inhumanly strong. “Hisoka, is the target—”

“Taken care of, sweetheart.” He— Hisoka answered, coming to a stop at Illumi’s side. “Did kitten finally use its claws, or did someone lose his patience first?”

His hand drifted upward, forcing you to tilt your head back, then the side, inspecting you again, letting his eyes pry into you unabashedly. “Someone wants me dead.” A blunt explanation, but Hisoka seemed to understand, nodding with a slight hum. “We’ll have to be careful if we ever come back. They may actually contact a professional, next time.”

“And?” Hisoka eyed you, warily. “What do you want to do with our little stray, here?”

Finally, finally, Illumi released you, but you didn’t have time to run. His fist was already wrapping around your collar, dragging you into his chest. In the back of your mind, you realized that he hadn’t stopped grinning, not since you’d gotten him into the alleyway, not since you attacked him.

It was all you could do to hope that he'd stop, soon, and never force you to see something so monstrous again.

“I suppose every stray deserves a good home, don't they?”

Outfit swaps!  🌈🐌 and a bonus tiny Weather

Ichor

Okay so i got a lot of people begging me to post this anyway, so here it is. Hope you all enjoy it and please comment if you do :)

WARNINGS: vampires, mention of blood, detailed violence, mention of nausea, vampire! Uvogin, vampire! Shalnark, explicit murder, nsfw implications, kidnapping, 2.7k

“Some of us are less… adapted to society, if that makes sense.” He waved his hand in a so-so manner. “The one you’ll be seeing is like that. We’ve arranged measures to keep you safe but I want you to prepare for it.”

Nothing could prepare you for this.

The behemoth snarled through his muzzle, pushing his entire weight against the chains and clawing in your direction. The room was just large enough for you to be out of his reach, if only barely. The iron seemed to hold him for now, but you didn’t trust the chains, primarily because the entire wall seemed to shake whenever the monster put his all into a lunge.

“He has to get used to you! It’ll be fine after a while, don’t worry. He won’t be like this forever.” Did that mean they would let him loose one of these days? When he wasn’t growling and drooling through the leather bindings across his mouth?

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Tainted Love

Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Reader (Modern/Mafia Au!)

- Billionaire Gojo brainrot <3 

Right, Gojo Satoru doesn’t believe in love. But you make him happy, so unbearably happy that it scares him how afraid he is to wake up one day and find you gone.

Warnings: Yandere themes, mentions of gore/violence & guns, ‘NSFW’, ‘smut’, dark themes (slight mentions of past abuse, suicide & cheating), extreme possessive/obsessive behaviour

—–

The first time you meet him, he tries to buy the last strawberry sliced cake that you were both eyeing for triple its price. 

“Hey, I saw that first.” A youthful voice, clear and bright.

The wooden tongs, hovering carefully over the cake freezes. It nearly slips out of your fingers when a hard body jostles against your elbow and you blink in surprise at the force before righting yourself in mild annoyance. 

Silently, you turned to face the culprit. A dark blue baseball cap and a pair of dark tinted sunglasses perched on the elegant bridge of his nose that shields his gaze. He’s absurdly tall, enough so that you had to crane your neck up in order to look properly at his face. You swear you catch a hint of silver that gleams teasingly underneath the shadows of his cap. 

You blink again and he clicks his tongue. “Are you going to take it?” 

“Would you take it if I didn’t?” You said slowly, pondering your next words. Curious eyes flicker over his outfit, he’s dorned in black from head to toe, leaving only a silver of his collarbones peeking out the collar. 

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15 ways Gojo annoys you

introducing the best worst boyfriend ever 

1. Will roll on your side of the bed and throw his whole body on top of yours. And when you literally try to pinch him to get off of you, he snores even louder in response, sneakily peeking one eye open and quickly closing it before you could catch him.

2. Is the type to harass you when you’re in the bathroom. Will burst in and go into a full on conversation while leaning against the counter, ignoring the way you’re glaring daggers at him as you sit on the toilet, or he’d slide notes underneath the door that say things like “Do you like me 🥰? Circle yes or no.” Also will pour flour/excessive amounts of shampoo on your head if you’re in the shower just to prank you.

3. Never on time to pick you up. And when he actually is there on time, he makes sure that his music is on full blast and it’s something really embarrassing or vulgar. You look mortified as he slowly pulls up in front of you, rolling the passenger window down with a smirk on his face.

4. Takes pictures of you while you’re asleep with your mouth hung open and slob dribbling down your chin. He poses next to you with the peace sign and a huge smile across his face, posting all the pictures he took on his story and tagging you so you’d have a surprise for when you woke up in the morning.

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JJK BOYS

(Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Geto, Choso, Inumaki)

Click the pictures for better quality.

Credits to srkork on IG

‼️not my art‼️

Permission.

being a special grade sorcerer alongside yandere gojo and geto would be nothing short of fucking horrific because they underestimate you even if you might as well be just as strong as them.

they could either pamper you to no end, humiliating you by exaggerating your wins, be it training/sparring or exorcising any curse;

it's as if they don't want your ego to be damaged if you lose. maybe that's the reason why you even got promoted to a special grade; they can't stand to see you being unappreciated. gojo would outright baby you without shame, but geto would be so subtle about it that you'd allow it to happen.

or they could just not believe you're a special grade, won't even let you fight a grade four curse as long as they're physically around, the treatments worsens if you actually earned the rank for yourself. they'd probably pretend they're the reason why you're even considered a sorcerer in the modern jujutsu society.

“Don’t worry…”

“I’m the strongest!”

“I love you…”

“You’re so cute when you’re sleeping!”

“I’ll be watching over you.”

“Nothing will happen.”

“Because I’m here.”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I’m here!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

“I love you!”

Yandere!Hisoillumi x reader

technically poly? But they’re too murderous to ever admit they like eachother, thankfully they have you to share the festering love they harbour. 

(Warnings: Yandere, obsession, implied kidnapping, dissociation, polygamy, forced relationship, non con touching) 

In all honesty, you preferred Hisoka over his partner. 

He was equally, if not more, violent. Underneath the sickly sweet scent of bubble gum, there would always be a hint of metallic blood. His grip was always just a bit too tight for comfort, and his hands wandered further than Illumi’s ever would. 

But where Illumi would stress for control, Hisoka had a preference for leisure. 

Keep reading

Yandere Analysis: Hisoka Morow

(Warning: some nsfw related content here because…Hisoka..but it’s mainly just implied sexual behavior.)

Hisoka is a very primitive human being, to say the least. His goals, compared to the rest of the cast, are pretty basic. Illumi wants to protect the Zoldyck family and its assets, Gon wants to find his dad, Leorio wants to become a doctor to save lives for no cost, but Hisoka’s drive is…primarily just to fight for pleasure.

It’s a necessity more than a drive. He wants to get stronger and he wants to fight strong opponents. And the reason he wants to do those things is for his own sake of enjoyment. Hisoka isn’t driven by a grand scheme, he just takes things one at a time. In other words, he tends to live in the moment, rather than plan for a greater cause. 

It’s because of this personality that Hisoka will probably never truly fall in love with someone. His main goal is pleasure and he gets pleasure through fighting. 

But he can feel something very close to love. 

Fixation is another driving factor in Hisoka. Obsession, chasing after someone is what Hisoka is best at doing. Hisoka is very whimsical, preferring to do things as he sees fit. It’s very likely that you’ll be his target…just because he wants you to. 

Love letters, stuffed animals, breaking and entering will all be part of Hisoka’s ‘flirtations’. He will terrify you with his bloodlust. He will make you scream and cry with his threats to kill your lived ones. Catching his attention will be hell. 

The worst part about this is, Hisoka knows just how terrifying he can seem. He’s doing these things on purpose. Most likely, it’s to invoke some sort of reaction from you. The scariest moments are when he’s bored and has no one left to fight. He’ll talk about how funny it would be if he killed your co-worker in front of you, or how he could slowly rip you apart, limb from limb (he’ll keep you alive, of course. He wouldn’t want to break his favorite toy). He (probably) wouldn’t do those things, unless you give him a reason to. 

Though quite possessive, Hisoka wouldn’t kidnap you. He’d prefer to keep you at a distance where he could find you, but not too close to interfere with his other activities. But despite this ‘freedom’, you honestly shouldn’t expect any mercy for the people who look a bit too long at you. He’s still a bloodthirsty killer, who can justify any kill with the fact that it relates to you. 

As stated before, Hisoka’s drive comes from pleasure, sexual pleasure. Fighting a strong opponent is honestly all what he needs, up until this point. But after you come into the picture, his tactics will change a bit. Instead of winning a fight, being his release, you will. After every battle, he’ll probably drag you into his room, trembling in pleasure, before fucking you into his mattress. His libido will probably depend on the outcome of his match. If he won (which he always does), expect him to go for hours. 

Hisoka doesn’t really love you, instead it’s the unbridled lust that drives him to keep you by his side. And that’s more than enough for him.

Yandere! Gojo Satoru x reader

reaaallly messy but i know if i don’t kick it out now i’ll never do it 

(Warnings: Yandere, stalking, breaking and entering, non con touching/ kissing, implied non-con/rape) 

Sticky notes

You’ve given up believing it was some harmless prank. 

At first, you thought they were a bit of an annoyance, if not a tiny inconvenience. Yellow scraps of paper would be hidden everywhere you could think of. Smiley faces would be stuck on your front door, crudely-done drawings would be posted on your car, hearts and short messages would be waiting for you at your mailbox. 

One sticky note had gotten embarrassingly glued to your shoe before a coworker kindly informed you of its existence. You remembered hastily tugging it off, close to chucking it in the trash can before you read: 

It’s finally Friday! Great job making through the tough week!  

You didn’t want to admit it, but it was a little sweet. 

After a while, you started to look a little forward to your ‘secret admirer’, reading the messages with a smile after a long day of work. It was nice, being appreciated. You thought it was from your neighbor’s kids, maybe it was a school project to make someone’s day. It certainly made yours. 

Then they started to get unsettling. 

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Bad Decisions

was meant to be a drabble inspired by the opening of It Follows and it turned into something a lot longer than I expected sorry if it’s trash

Warnings: kidnapping, noncon, dubcon, death

The waves of the ocean lazily lapped at the sandy shore, the water hitting you every time the tide came in. The stereotypical image of a beach that had crossed your mind when you’d thought of this destination, one of a deep blue sea on golden sands, was nowhere to be found. Instead, the waves were black, reflecting the dark, empty sky above. The only light source in your vicinity was that of the car parked behind you, keys left in the ignition so you could keep the headlights on. You sat in the middle of that spotlight, hugging your knees to your chest as the water continued to hit you, soaking your feet and the seat of your shorts, leaving the fabric feeling cold and heavy on your body.

It was as though the waves were trying to pull you in, to take you into the abyss that sat before you, where you could disappear into its depths and never be found again.

The waves came rushing up, hitting you once more and then pulling away, tempting you with the same offer as they had been since you arrived.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, “he’d still find me.”

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Ugh, sorry for neglecting this blog. Uni is tough, after this week ill have free time to write some more pieces, Uvo and gojo stuff is coming up!

Hi Mari !!! How is your day going? Congrats on 2k again !!

Can I have some Headcannons of Gojo showing up at your date with the 'other man' please? Idk if this has already been requested ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Ex husband! Gojo: showing up to your date with another man

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: Ohh I love this idea bestie! This was actually requested by a few others, so I hope this does some justice! <3

Warnings: Degrading talk, sexual implications,

You should’ve known better. You should’ve known he’s too smart to escape, he knows your every move.

You couldn’t help but grit your teeth as you watched your ex husband Gojo enter the restaurant that you came to with your date. A wide, dazzling smile on his face that only you knew hid malice and jealousy. He had some tall, blonde model like woman wrapped around his arm too.

“Oh! Y/n! I didn’t expect to see you here”

Gojo said as he interrupted your date. You quickly looked away from him, avoiding his creepy, unwavering stare.

“Y/n who is this..” your date says unsurely.

But before you could even open your mouth, your vision was obstructed by Gojo’s long arm that stretched out to shake your date’s hand.

“I’m y/n’s ex husband, Gojo Satoru, nice to meet you! You don’t mind if me and my date join you, do you?”

Your date seems perplexed by the question, shaking his hand cautiously.

He clicked his fingers, making waiters rush over to add another table and chairs to your table, making you and your date stare at him in confusion.

“Um I don’t think you’re allowed to-”

“Why not? I’m a shareholder of this restaurant” Gojo announces with a cocky smile, before looking towards you again.

How expected..

“So did y/n tell you about our children?” Gojo asked your date. A cold chill went down your spine, as Gojo looked at you, while placing his large pale hand over yours. You knew what this was.

A warning.

You look at Gojo’s woman that had now sat to your left, she held eye contact with you but her expression seemed to be unreadable.

Did she not feel embarrassed or disrespected that her date, Gojo was currently touching with his ex wife rather than her?

Your date also looked upset as he watched Gojo take your hand into his. “Uhh no, she hasn’t.. I guess I don’t really want children so I don’t know much about them..” your date reasoned, feeling uneasy.

“Oh why not? I think you have such pretty eyes! You should have children to pass it on to!” Gojo’s date, Natasha finally spoke to your date, placing a hand on his shoulder, making him blush at the contact.

Oh, so that’s how it was.

You turned your head towards Gojo to glare at him only to watch the 6’3 man smile down at you devilishly.

Ah yes, his plan had succeeded.

“You asshole” you gritted.

His smile only grew wider at the insult, as he leaned down to your height and whispered into your ear “Psst y/n I think your date finds Natasha hotter than you” he mocked. “It’s probably because she’s a model and you’re just a mother of two”

You gritted your teeth, pushed your tongue to the roof of your mouth, but nothing worked. Nothing stopped the angry tears that left your eyes as you heard Gojo’s harsh words followed with the view of your date enjoying his time with the other girl.

You couldn’t take it a longer. “Fuck you Gojo..” you cried quietly before grabbing your bag and storming off, finally grabbing the attention of your date and Natasha.

“Wait y/n!” Your date called out to you pathetically but he went unheard, making Gojo laugh, a victorious laugh rather, before standing up and sauntering his way towards you. He won.

“Gojo! Where are you going? How am I supposed to get home?” Natasha asked annoyed, but he ignored her, Gojo’s focus was now on you and you only.

Like a predator, he had you exactly where he wanted.

You could hear Gojo’s footsteps catch up to you quickly in the dark car park, before you felt his large cold hand wrap around yours, manhandling you into his car.

“Get off me Gojo! I hate you!” You cried, struggling in his arms.

“Aww don’t cry my attention whore” He cooed at you, licking your tears away, moaning lewdly as he did. The sick bastard always got off on making you cry.

“maybe if you didn’t leave my precious children at home just to have a date like a slutty whore, I wouldn’t have humiliated you today” he added pushing you down on the backseats of his car, pushing your dress up to play with your underwear.

“But you never learn do you?” He sighed, moving his large hand to squish your cheeks together, kissing your lips.

“If you wanted to be a whore so bad y/n, you should’ve said so” he continued, unzipping his trousers and pushing his erection against you, making you squeal and squirm.

“Maybe if I give you more children, you won’t act like this hm?”

Doodles bc I have free time but I can't draw 🙄

Yeehaw! Hisoillu week day 7!! Today’s prompt is AU  🐎 🤠

Th’e horse’s name is Bungee Gum

𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐚 𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞

Lovesick

Tw: Yandere themes, noncon, dubcon, lemon, implied death, toxic relationships. If you are under the age of 18 or find this content upsetting, please do not proceed.

Your sore legs tremble as you curl in on yourself. Sticky fluid drips between your thighs, pooling onto the sheets below.

A shame, you just changed them.

You push down your building exasperation, instead, you take slow, steady breaths.

(in, out, in, out).

You listen to the sound of the cars speeding on the damp asphalt outside your window. You listen to the rustle of tree branches in the night’s breeze. You even listen to the foxes mating outside, if you let your mind wander a little bit, it’s like you can imagine someone screaming as they are brutally murdered.

That brings a small smile to your face.

You grip the sheets tighter, you can feel their soft fibres, you can feel the individual hairs sticking to your face, you can feel-

Sharp fingertips tracing the curves of your body.

And just like that, you are brought back to reality. The hot body plastered to your back is impossible to ignore, just as the hands that run languidly along your form are. You lay still as his gaze burns holes into your back, and for a second, you think that maybe if you are still enough, he’ll believe you’re asleep and leave you alone.

(Fat chance, when has he ever left you alone before?)

His nails graze the sensitive spot at the bottom of your spine and you can’t help but shudder under the touch. He chuckles softly in response.

“Love, you know I hate to be ignored, don’t you?” He whispers lowly, his tone deceptively benevolent, holding an implicit warning.

“And after we spent so long apart, you can’t possibly think I’d let our time together go to waste now would you?”

It’s as if he can sense what you are thinking. You feel your previous irritation bubble up, spilling over before you can put a lid on it.

“Isn’t that what this is?” You snap before you can think better of it.

“Hm?”

“A waste-”, you stupidly continue, “a waste of time, for the both of us, I mean, let's face it- this whole arrangement is no longer any fun.” Your words tail off slightly at the end, the weight of your misstep finally hitting you full force. The atmosphere in the room shifts almost instantaneously.

“Fun?” He asks, tone still light, if slightly strained.

If you were anyone else, you think, you would not have even recognised the switch from playful to livid in his tone. If you were literally anyone else, however, you wouldn’t have to.

You think about that sometimes, just how many people have met their end by simply misreading him, misunderstanding him. You used to pride yourself on that, thinking it made you special, immune to his sick desires and tendency to break things too quickly.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Learning to read him does little to save you from his ever changing moods and whims, something that was once both interesting and exhilarating now exhausting and sometimes downright terrifying.

Fun. Your relationship, if you could call it that, used to be fun, didn’t it?

“Yes, fun. Hisoka, you know?” You elaborate, “Ha ha, ‘you make me laugh so much I want to vomit’ fun?, or- ‘lets strip naked and jump into the river kind of fun,” you continue, bitterness clear in your voice. “Not, ‘I want to tear off your skin and wear it as my own’, or-, ‘lets beat each other black and blue until one of us can’t physically stand’, you know? That.. that's not fun at all.”

Realising the futility of your little rant, you cut yourself short, attempting to zone out once again.

You are, however, not given the chance as the Magician manhandles you onto your back and straddles your sides. The sheets silk slip off his form, and the Grecian contours of his naked body are illuminated in the low light.

No more words escape you as his face hovers directly above yours, one arm braced by your head, smile still plastered across his damn face. You stare back impassively into his narrowed gaze, tensing up. He’s pissed, that's for sure.

“Why not both, pet? I assure you, you look as pretty-”, slender digits encircle your neck, ‘‘black and blue’ as you do smiling, my dear.” He grins, cheerfully sinister. Then magician’s grip tightens without warning.

“Fffuck-,yyou.” you barely manage to wheeze out, beginning to struggle in his iron grip. You’re too weak to fight, you belatedly realise, after what he's put you through tonight.

To your dawning horror, you feel his length hardening once again against your stomach.

No way.

After weighing your options, you look up at him with pleading eyes, regretting your words.

You attempt to rasp out a desperate apology, only to be met with lovesick obsession in his honeyed gaze. Knowing begging will only fall on deaf ears, you stay like that, seemingly trapped within it, you fear if you look too long, you’ll be swallowed up by it.

“Your so mean to me, love,” he whines, faux-wounded, “after I left all those presents for you,” he breathes out heavily, his cheeks tinged pink, “and spent so much time making sure people would leave you alone,” he continues, over the sounds of you gasping for air, all the while grinding down onto you, “ and taking care of all your.. needs” he remarks mockingly as he grinds onto your clit, smirk broadening as he relishes your little gasps and shudders under his ministrations.

Ah yes, the presents. Hisoka is like a cat, you think, dropping dead animals at the feet of its owner and expecting a reward.

An extremely persistent, homicidal cat that is.

He releases your neck as you almost begin to pass out, black spots appearing in the corners of your vision. You splutter and gasp for air, having no time to appreciate your ability to breathe once again as he sheathes himself fully into your wet, cum filled cunt.

It’s all you can do to cry and whimper as you clench around his cock, helpless to do anything other than let him do what he wants to your weak mind and body. You take him in completely as he starts up a punishing pace, the redhead gripping your hips harshly, leaving purple, finger-sized indents.

Above you Hisoka moans wantonly, taking in your disheveled state: drool dripping from your chin, unshed tears shining in your eyes, the bloom of angry red and purple hickeys that litter your body. Weakly, you attempt to push him away. That earns you a swift backhand across the face.

“No Hiso… no no” you whine, one hand pressing against the stinging side of your face as the other claws at his back and shoulders desperately. Tears finally spill over. He moans once again as he laps the salty droplets up eagerly, slowing his thrusts in place of marking you more thoroughly.

You cling to him desperately, hoping he'll be done with you soon.

You’ll never admit it, but both of you know he’s correct in the fact that he takes care of your needs. He knows your body too well after all. You sob when he focuses on your neck and jawline, sucking on that spot beneath your ear; he knows every little part of you, all your sensitive spots and how to exploit them in order to make you scream and shudder beneath his touch.

Your mind begins to wonder, about those lonely nights, when he disappears for months at a time; and how you touch yourself desperately, unable to recreate the sensations he creates.

You think about the men you tried to fill that hole with.

You think about the small pieces of them you found afterwards.

His voice breaks you from your musings.

“Where’s that bravado from before, Pet?” He remarks, tone drizzled with condescension, before lavishing more open mouthed kisses along your neck. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he whispers, “that there's someone else you could possibly belong to other than me, tell me you don’t love me.” He coos, stroking along your face, your collarbone, your breasts.

“I- I don’t” you croak out feebly.

Your chest hurts.

Both of you can sense the lack of conviction in your tone. You stare at him in disbelief.

First your body, now has your mind decided to betray you too?

You must not be feeling well.

There’s just no way you could still love him. Not after what he’d done to you, it was impossible, right?

Impossible, just like enjoying being continually fucked against your will by your crazy stalker and ex-boyfriend.

Impossible.

Your chest hurts. Why does your face feel wet?

Hisoka’s eyes widen a fraction, the tense atmosphere from before dissipates. It seems your understanding of each other goes both ways.

You shake your head frantically, willing him to understand, to not take this the wrong way. You weren’t in love with him. Never. Not in a million years.

“No-“ you begin, cut off by the passionate kiss he captures your lips in. He kisses you deeply, less rough than before, more tongue and less teeth.

After what feels like eternity, the redhead detaches from you with a wet pop as his eyes capture yours once again. You pant, your wet cheeks aflame with both anger and embarrassment.

“I knew you would come around my love, I just didn’t expect it so soon, hm?” He says delightedly, the smile on his face abnormally authentic.

Hisoka tilts his head, peering down at you in silent awe, the Magician‘s pace slowing and deepening, just how you like it. You twitch around him in response.

“You must like me an awful lot, considering our history, pet. I have to say, you might be sick in the head.” He whispers almost mockingly. He presses a soft kiss to your temple as he strokes your face, his eyes filled with adoration.

“Although I don’t mind it, one bit”, the bastard remarks, having the audacity to wink down at you as he whispers conspirationaly. Your lip curls in disgust, your anger rising. More tears drip down your face. His thumb comes down to press against your plush lips.

You grit your teeth.

Then you go against what any rational person would do and bite down on his hand. Hard.

He hisses lightly, whether in pleasure or pain you don't care, as you use this distraction to head butt him in the face with full force. Blood gushes from his nose and you take in the sight with glee, hoping to slip out from under him as he's dazed.

Despite the pain you’ve inflicted on him, he remains steady, clutching you tighter as he stares down at you, eyes widened. Some of the blood from his nose drops on to your face as you struggle to no avail in his grip.

You pretty much figured this would be the case. Stil, there's satisfaction to be gained from his shocked expression.

You should be upset by your helplessness. Your inability to harm him properly.

The fact that you might still love him.

Fuck. Fuck

Instead, you laugh. You laugh and laugh and laugh. A scratchy, shrill sound aided by your bruised windpipe.

You laugh harder as you feel his cock twitch and harden further inside you, his blood warm and dripping on your face. Hisoka’s expression crinkles into one of delight. Of course he’s aroused by this. Of course.

He joins in too, cackling as he restarts his rough pace from before, and as you smile to yourself, arms looping around his neck, you think he may be right, you must be sick in the head.

why is it that when something happens its always you three

No thoughts just Gojo singing Reader a happy-go-lucky “Gan-ba-re! Gan-ba-re!” while he’s slowly shoving his cock into her while she struggles to take all of him inside

fkfkfkfjcjf god I LOVE that, he would 🥵 and he'd be like "you did it, yaaaay" and ruffle your hair as you're sitting there sniffling and crying, and he'd call you a baby and maybe take a few pictures (for himself of course)

God... can you imagine... fucking bully acting like "hey wouldn't it be fun if we had a baby together? :)" and acting like he'll knock you up and starts calling you pet names and how he's gonna cum any second just to watch you squirm and squeal

Other people think he calls you darling to tease you but really it's cause he considers you his lil wifey 🥰

Imagine Gojo, begging him not to nut in you and to use a condom instead. He says yes surprisingly quickly, all smiles. Then he puts you in a mating press, legs up by your ears and goes to town on you. When your done doing the do he pulls out, shit eating grin on his face, quickly he takes off the dom, flips it inside out and empties the contents right back into your twitching, unsuspecting pussy. You cry out but he has you trapped. Legs still above your head, he parts your lips and continues.

You can try to push him away to no avail, his grin growing wider. You can desperately try and push his seed out, begging him to stop, telling him that you’re not on birth control, that you seriously could get pregnant from this, that he’s a sicko for what he’s doing to you. That earns you a dark chuckle and two skilled fingers at the entrance of your cunt, pushing his sloppy cum back into your well used pussy.

The message is very clear. Gojo can do whatever he wants with you, you are in no position to refuse.

These two would play just for fun 🦑

“That’s rude. I’m only a magician.”

illumi

Having nasty thoughts about Gojo. I feel like he’s the type to frustrate and bully you until you cry.

He’d defo also force you into little space all the time, telling you things like “you’re too little to understand” and cooing at you in a really condescending tone, every time you get mad or try to fight him he’d continue the bullying and the cycle would just repeat.

He’d show up at your work, tell everyone you know that you two are dating. If you ever tried to bring it up he’d play it off, acting smug and asking you if you had a crush on him before antagonising you some more.

He would blow hot and cold, telling you that you’re delusional and in the same week, show up out of the blue offering you a bouquet of flowers and begging you to move in with him (after your apartment blew up under “mysterious circumstances” ofc). How did he even know where you lived?

Eventually you’d be too exhausted to fight him and end up in little space all the time. Whining at him and asking him permission for the smallest things, the worse thing is, he’d break you down so slowly over a long period that you wouldn’t even realise its happening .

I feel like he wouldn’t want you to be too tame however, he’d let you act up, riling you up in public spaces and punishing you privately at home.

Don’t make him too jealous tho, he wouldn’t like that. He’s all smiles in front of his darling whilst contemplating where to dispose the body of the guy you were so brazenly flirting with. He’d keep his cool, playing up appearances until he gets home, and next thing you know you’re kept tied to his bed all weekend. 💜

Do you ever just meet someone and think, “yeah they’re not gonna be in my life for long”

phantom troupe

Lovesick

Tw: Yandere themes, noncon, dubcon, lemon, implied death, toxic relationships. If you are under the age of 18 or find this content upsetting, please do not proceed.

Your sore legs tremble as you curl in on yourself. Sticky fluid drips between your thighs, pooling onto the sheets below.

A shame, you just changed them.

You push down your building exasperation, instead, you take slow, steady breaths.

(in, out, in, out).

You listen to the sound of the cars speeding on the damp asphalt outside your window. You listen to the rustle of tree branches in the night’s breeze. You even listen to the foxes mating outside, if you let your mind wander a little bit, it’s like you can imagine someone screaming as they are brutally murdered.

That brings a small smile to your face.

You grip the sheets tighter, you can feel their soft fibres, you can feel the individual hairs sticking to your face, you can feel-

Sharp fingertips tracing the curves of your body.

And just like that, you are brought back to reality. The hot body plastered to your back is impossible to ignore, just as the hands that run languidly along your form are. You lay still as his gaze burns holes into your back, and for a second, you think that maybe if you are still enough, he’ll believe you’re asleep and leave you alone.

(Fat chance, when has he ever left you alone before?)

His nails graze the sensitive spot at the bottom of your spine and you can’t help but shudder under the touch. He chuckles softly in response.

“Love, you know I hate to be ignored, don’t you?” He whispers lowly, his tone deceptively benevolent, holding an implicit warning.

“And after we spent so long apart, you can’t possibly think I’d let our time together go to waste now would you?”

It’s as if he can sense what you are thinking. You feel your previous irritation bubble up, spilling over before you can put a lid on it.

“Isn’t that what this is?” You snap before you can think better of it.

“Hm?”

“A waste-”, you stupidly continue, “a waste of time, for the both of us, I mean, let's face it- this whole arrangement is no longer any fun.” Your words tail off slightly at the end, the weight of your misstep finally hitting you full force. The atmosphere in the room shifts almost instantaneously.

“Fun?” He asks, tone still light, if slightly strained.

If you were anyone else, you think, you would not have even recognised the switch from playful to livid in his tone. If you were literally anyone else, however, you wouldn’t have to.

You think about that sometimes, just how many people have met their end by simply misreading him, misunderstanding him. You used to pride yourself on that, thinking it made you special, immune to his sick desires and tendency to break things too quickly.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Learning to read him does little to save you from his ever changing moods and whims, something that was once both interesting and exhilarating now exhausting and sometimes downright terrifying.

Fun. Your relationship, if you could call it that, used to be fun, didn’t it?

“Yes, fun. Hisoka, you know?” You elaborate, “Ha ha, ‘you make me laugh so much I want to vomit’ fun?, or- ‘lets strip naked and jump into the river kind of fun,” you continue, bitterness clear in your voice. “Not, ‘I want to tear off your skin and wear it as my own’, or-, ‘lets beat each other black and blue until one of us can’t physically stand’, you know? That.. that's not fun at all.”

Realising the futility of your little rant, you cut yourself short, attempting to zone out once again.

You are, however, not given the chance as the Magician manhandles you onto your back and straddles your sides. The sheets silk slip off his form, and the Grecian contours of his naked body are illuminated in the low light.

No more words escape you as his face hovers directly above yours, one arm braced by your head, smile still plastered across his damn face. You stare back impassively into his narrowed gaze, tensing up. He’s pissed, that's for sure.

“Why not both, pet? I assure you, you look as pretty-”, slender digits encircle your neck, ‘‘black and blue’ as you do smiling, my dear.” He grins, cheerfully sinister. Then magician’s grip tightens without warning.

“Fffuck-,yyou.” you barely manage to wheeze out, beginning to struggle in his iron grip. You’re too weak to fight, you belatedly realise, after what he's put you through tonight.

To your dawning horror, you feel his length hardening once again against your stomach.

No way.

After weighing your options, you look up at him with pleading eyes, regretting your words.

You attempt to rasp out a desperate apology, only to be met with lovesick obsession in his honeyed gaze. Knowing begging will only fall on deaf ears, you stay like that, seemingly trapped within it, you fear if you look too long, you’ll be swallowed up by it.

“Your so mean to me, love,” he whines, faux-wounded, “after I left all those presents for you,” he breathes out heavily, his cheeks tinged pink, “and spent so much time making sure people would leave you alone,” he continues, over the sounds of you gasping for air, all the while grinding down onto you, “ and taking care of all your.. needs” he remarks mockingly as he grinds onto your clit, smirk broadening as he relishes your little gasps and shudders under his ministrations.

Ah yes, the presents. Hisoka is like a cat, you think, dropping dead animals at the feet of its owner and expecting a reward.

An extremely persistent, homicidal cat that is.

He releases your neck as you almost begin to pass out, black spots appearing in the corners of your vision. You splutter and gasp for air, having no time to appreciate your ability to breathe once again as he sheathes himself fully into your wet, cum filled cunt.

It’s all you can do to cry and whimper as you clench around his cock, helpless to do anything other than let him do what he wants to your weak mind and body. You take him in completely as he starts up a punishing pace, the redhead gripping your hips harshly, leaving purple, finger-sized indents.

Above you Hisoka moans wantonly, taking in your disheveled state: drool dripping from your chin, unshed tears shining in your eyes, the bloom of angry red and purple hickeys that litter your body. Weakly, you attempt to push him away. That earns you a swift backhand across the face.

“No Hiso… no no” you whine, one hand pressing against the stinging side of your face as the other claws at his back and shoulders desperately. Tears finally spill over. He moans once again as he laps the salty droplets up eagerly, slowing his thrusts in place of marking you more thoroughly.

You cling to him desperately, hoping he'll be done with you soon.

You’ll never admit it, but both of you know he’s correct in the fact that he takes care of your needs. He knows your body too well after all. You sob when he focuses on your neck and jawline, sucking on that spot beneath your ear; he knows every little part of you, all your sensitive spots and how to exploit them in order to make you scream and shudder beneath his touch.

Your mind begins to wonder, about those lonely nights, when he disappears for months at a time; and how you touch yourself desperately, unable to recreate the sensations he creates.

You think about the men you tried to fill that hole with.

You think about the small pieces of them you found afterwards.

His voice breaks you from your musings.

“Where’s that bravado from before, Pet?” He remarks, tone drizzled with condescension, before lavishing more open mouthed kisses along your neck. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he whispers, “that there's someone else you could possibly belong to other than me, tell me you don’t love me.” He coos, stroking along your face, your collarbone, your breasts.

“I- I don’t” you croak out feebly.

Your chest hurts.

Both of you can sense the lack of conviction in your tone. You stare at him in disbelief.

First your body, now has your mind decided to betray you too?

You must not be feeling well.

There’s just no way you could still love him. Not after what he’d done to you, it was impossible, right?

Impossible, just like enjoying being continually fucked against your will by your crazy stalker and ex-boyfriend.

Impossible.

Your chest hurts. Why does your face feel wet?

Hisoka’s eyes widen a fraction, the tense atmosphere from before dissipates. It seems your understanding of each other goes both ways.

You shake your head frantically, willing him to understand, to not take this the wrong way. You weren’t in love with him. Never. Not in a million years.

“No-“ you begin, cut off by the passionate kiss he captures your lips in. He kisses you deeply, less rough than before, more tongue and less teeth.

After what feels like eternity, the redhead detaches from you with a wet pop as his eyes capture yours once again. You pant, your wet cheeks aflame with both anger and embarrassment.

“I knew you would come around my love, I just didn’t expect it so soon, hm?” He says delightedly, the smile on his face abnormally authentic.

Hisoka tilts his head, peering down at you in silent awe, the Magician‘s pace slowing and deepening, just how you like it. You twitch around him in response.

“You must like me an awful lot, considering our history, pet. I have to say, you might be sick in the head.” He whispers almost mockingly. He presses a soft kiss to your temple as he strokes your face, his eyes filled with adoration.

“Although I don’t mind it, one bit”, the bastard remarks, having the audacity to wink down at you as he whispers conspirationaly. Your lip curls in disgust, your anger rising. More tears drip down your face. His thumb comes down to press against your plush lips.

You grit your teeth.

Then you go against what any rational person would do and bite down on his hand. Hard.

He hisses lightly, whether in pleasure or pain you don't care, as you use this distraction to head butt him in the face with full force. Blood gushes from his nose and you take in the sight with glee, hoping to slip out from under him as he's dazed.

Despite the pain you’ve inflicted on him, he remains steady, clutching you tighter as he stares down at you, eyes widened. Some of the blood from his nose drops on to your face as you struggle to no avail in his grip.

You pretty much figured this would be the case. Stil, there's satisfaction to be gained from his shocked expression.

You should be upset by your helplessness. Your inability to harm him properly.

The fact that you might still love him.

Fuck. Fuck

Instead, you laugh. You laugh and laugh and laugh. A scratchy, shrill sound aided by your bruised windpipe.

You laugh harder as you feel his cock twitch and harden further inside you, his blood warm and dripping on your face. Hisoka’s expression crinkles into one of delight. Of course he’s aroused by this. Of course.

He joins in too, cackling as he restarts his rough pace from before, and as you smile to yourself, arms looping around his neck, you think he may be right, you must be sick in the head.