#i accidently bumped into him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nezuscribe · 21 days ago

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life as a hit man was dirty but simple, and gojo preferred keeping it that way. he didn’t know his clients names, they didn’t know his. he’d send over proof of his work, they’d wire in the money. dirty, yet simple.

so when he gets a message to kill the daughter of some oil tycoon, he doesn’t think much about it. sure he thinks it’s cheap to go for the kid, but what does he know. this is the most he’s ever been offered for a one shot job, so he’s not an idiot to turn this offer down.

and unfortunately, that meant his next confirmed target was you.

he gets your information, where you go to school, what apartment building you live in, where you like to eat. usually he prefers a straight shot to the head, but sometimes sneaking in something to your food lets him off easier.

gojo gets to know your routine. what you do at what time. what shows you watch, what your favorite sweater is. he watches from the high rises that faces yours, crouching down so none of your bodyguards could see the reflection of the magnifier of his rifle.

and gojo is used to taking out a wide range of people. men, women, grandpas, aunts. it’s just business to him. but there’s something about you that makes him hesitate to pull the trigger.

maybe it’s the fact that the weeks he’s spent trailing after you he’s noticed you’re pretty much a loner. you keep to yourself, never bothering anyone. you don’t seem to have my friends in your classes, or even out of them. gojo never questions to morals of his clients or who they ask him to kill, but judging you so far you seem to have done…nothing wrong.

you treat the old lady who works in the convenience story with such kindness that gojo wonders if you were born into this level of wealth, because most people of your status treat those beneath them like ants. you always hold the door open for your body guards despite them insisting they do it for you. you always buy some food for the stray cats in the alley you pass, and you never yell when you’re on the phone with your dad, even though gojo tracks those calls and feels the need to yell for you.

it all comes to a moment when you’re at your favorite coffee shop (he knows this because you come here so often), and you’ve managed to weasel away from your bodyguards. he knows they must be freaking out by now, but you just want some alone time.

he’s right there, right behind you, the little pouch of his condition of drugs that instantly kill in his pocket ready, and you turn around with your coffee cup and bump into him.

your eyes seen, letting out a shocked gasp as the iced drink stains his shirt and pants, the cup not empty on the floor.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter out, scrambling to find some napkins, “i’m so so sorry! i didn’t even see you there - gosh,” you shove some napkins into his hands, trying to dapple the coffee away but it does nothing to help, “i can’t believe…!” you trail off, the two of you moving out of line so you don’t hold the others up and your shaking your head in dismay, mad at your clumsiness.

“it’s alright,” he assures you, waving it off as his eyes take in your appearance. “don’t even worry about it, accidents happen.” it’s the first time he’s seen you this close, and he feels that pouch growing heavier in his pocket.

because you’re pretty. really pretty. and he likes the plush of your cheeks, the scrunch of your brows, the way you’re nearly gnawing your lip raw. you seem even prettier in person, and there’s a lump forming in his chest, something he’s never felt before.

“no, no,” you murmur, trying to find the tide pen in your bag, only to realize you left it at home, “and it’s stained too, fuck. i am so sorry about this, you probably have somewhere to be and…” your words trail off as you scramble for your wallet, pulling out some cash as you push it into his hands.

it’s more than he needs to replace the shirt and pants, probably enough to buy him a couple pairs from ralph lauren, but you still seem to think it’s not enough as you look for more.

“it’s no worries at all, i keep an extra of shirts in my car for emergencies like this,” gojo lies smoothly and you look up from your purse, eyes wide in shame. fuck he really likes your eyes too.

“no, please take it, it’ll be on my mind all day if you don’t,” you insist, but he’s shaking his head defiantly, a reassuring smile on his face as he hands the money back to you.

“and it’ll be on my conscience all day if i take it,” he promises you, and after you realize he’s not going to retract his hands you take the cash, shoving it back into your wallet as heat settles all over your body.

of course with your luck you spill coffee all over the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

you still look worried, finding another napkin as you take out a pen from your purse, messily writing something down.

“this is my contact information if you ever need me to replace your clothes,” you hand it over to the man with an apologetic smile, “please don’t hesitate to call me, i know stains and that’s gonna be really hard to get out,” you go to say something else but your eyes dart to the large windows behaubd him, catching sight of your body guards who seem to have seen you, and your face falls.

“i’m really sorry, again, but i have to go,” you mutter as you speed off, waving goodbyes to the stranger as you duck your head down and leave the coffee shop, not wanting to cause another scene as three buff men race in to find you.

gojo stands there almost in a haze, looking at his stained white shirt to the napkin with your number and name on it.

almost as if he didn’t already know it, almost as if you weren’t the girl he’s supposed to kill.

and in that moment he realizes how screwed he is, because he’d rather down that packet right there than shoot you down, and he’s never felt this dread before.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo drabble #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk drabble #satoru x reader

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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago

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dig your claws right into me ♡

logan howlett x fem!reader

logan hurts you when he has a nightmare. now you both have to deal with the fallout.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, descriptions of nightmare, injury, and blood

a/n: reader is a mutant but i didn't specify her powers so you can imagine what you want. just some sickly sweet intimacy cause that's what i was feeling tonight <3

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The words come out whispered as Logan's lips press against the three tiny bumps of developing scar tissue on your abdomen.

"I already told you that you don't have to be sorry," you say. Your voice drifts into the space between the two of you as soft as the movements of your fingers running through his hair.

"Well I am, bub. You should want me to be."

Each one of his hands rests upon either side of your waist. His fingers squish against your flesh while his eyes stare at the scars on your belly. He gazes at them like the small marks, all equidistant from one another, could be willed away by his harsh look. He hated the fact that they were there at all. Even worse, that he was the one who gave them to you.

"But it was an accident," you respond, giving one of the tufts of his hair a gentle tug.

His dark pupils flit up to look at your face. "Doesn't matter. It being an accident doesn't change the fact that you're gonna have these marks forever. I wouldn't care that it was accidental if I'd killed you."

He remembers the night it happened that seemed like a real possibility.

His light sleep had been interrupted by a nightmare. Over the time that had passed between then and now, it'd become indistinct from all the others he experiences regularly. The only difference between that one and the ones he'd had since he'd started sleeping next to you each night was the intensity. That night had been rough. Normally when he slept in your room, he seemed to be able to tone it down. Almost as if his brain knew to not act up while your relationship was still starting to blossom.

But two weeks ago, his mind didn't care. It flash-banged him with the usual images of himself in that tank. The searing, splitting pain of the adamantium attaching itself to his bones.

Usually, if he had a nightmare beside you, he'd grunt and twitch, maybe shift around a little. That night though, you got to see the whole performance. The tossing and turning, sweating and moaning, tense limbs and scrunched up face.

Poor, sweet, innocent you thought that you could just wake him up. Your hands nudged at his bicep and shoulder as you gently cooed "Logan. It's just a dream."

In the end, your tenderness didn't matter. When he actually came to, your anguished cry was all that registered. And then he felt the sharp heat between his knuckles that meant the claws were out. His heart dropped and his vision nearly blacked out. He couldn't have.

He retracted them as quickly as they'd appeared and pulled back to look at you. Crimson flooded the gray t-shirt you'd worn to bed. The three little spots spread into large blooms of scarlet. Your hands flew to the spot to clutch at it, but they did nothing to stop the warm liquid from spilling out.

"No, no, no, fuck," he'd whispered frantically as his mind raced for a solution.

Your cries morphed into whimpers. Soft and vulnerable. Like a prey animal that'd been fatally wounded but not put out of its misery. Blood seeped out onto your bedding, and it was then that he rocketed off the mattress and scooped you up into his arms.

Fortunately, Scott, Jean, and Storm were already outside the door in the hall, having heard the scream. A gathering of students lingered behind them as well. Shame coursed through his veins, albeit dulled by the panic. He remembered thinking it was stupid, but after the adrenaline left his system, it was the dominant emotion he was left with. Ashamed was the only word that could describe holding the knowledge that everyone here now saw he was capable of hurting the woman he loves. Maybe he was no better than an animal.

In truth, shame was all he felt now. So much relief settled over him since you'd made it out alive. Thanks to the enhanced physical capabilities from your mutation and Jean's adequate medical skills, these scars would be the only lasting effect of the wounds.

He'd rushed you down to the infirmary faster than he'd ever moved in a non-combat situation. His feet thundered down the stairs, a part of him withering to ash with each little whimper you let out as the motion jostled your body around.

"I'm sorry, bub. Almost there. We're almost there. You're gonna be ok," he'd mumbled out thoughtlessly, saying anything he could that would bring you even a shred of comfort.

He kept your hand in his the entire time you were down there on the cold examination table. His grip stayed firm. He wouldn't let the anxiety over your well being consume him. This was his fault, and now you needed him. He didn't get to be worried or upset or anything that wasn't in support of you.

When you howled in pain, he winced as if he was the one being treated. You cried for him, choking out "Logan" through tears over and over. It tore him apart inside. All he could do to soothe you was stroke your cheek and murmur reassurances in your ear.

"Shh, shh, shh. You're doing so good, baby. My strong girl. Being so brave."

He usually reserved affection for private moments, but in those painful seconds, it felt like you two were the only ones in the room.

These thoughts running through his head display across his face. The way his cheek squishes against your tummy and his eyes vacantly stare at the wall opposite his bed. You told him the next day that everything transformed into a blur in your mind. You remembered the feeling of being stabbed and the sight of him panicking, but beyond that nothing specific stayed. You knew he held you and talked to you even though you couldn't recall an individual thing he said or did.

That was fine with him. He listened to you tell the story from your perspective. You spoke with your normal cadence, the usual happy glow in your eyes, and the same animated gestures coming from your hands. His eyes lingered on your torso though. The bandages peeking out from underneath your clean camisole he'd changed you into.

Every last detail of the incident was etched into the deepest part of his psyche. Most likely stored away as material for future nightmares. As much as he hated it, he figured that's the way it should be. He didn't deserve the peace that comes with forgetting.

For the first week after it'd happened, he wouldn't sleep with you. He'd stay with you, cuddled against your body, until you drifted off. Then he'd get up and skulk back to his own room, leaving you cold and alone on your bed.

Eventually after a few more days, you got him to try it out again, but he'd only do it in his own room. It was hard for him to be in yours. New sheets covered your foamy mattress now since the blood wouldn't wash out of the old set. Each brush of the novel material against his skin was just a rose-printed reminder of what he'd done to you.

He's snapped out of his recollection when your voice returns to the original conversation.

"None of that stuff happened though. You didn't kill me, and you're not going to. I'll be more careful next time," you break the silence with a gentle reassurance.

Next time. That's what hurts the worst. You knew this would happen again. You'd promised that when it did you wouldn't try to wake him. Wouldn't touch him or do anything that could set him off. Just give him his space and let him work through it.

"I don't even want you worrying about being careful when you're trying to sleep," he grumbles.

Your nails scrape over his scalp, making his eyes flutter. A deep sigh leaves him. As much as he hated himself for all of this, he could never help easing up under your touch.

"You're worth it."

Three words you said so often. He never believed them, but that didn't stop you from repeating them like a slogan. Instead of arguing with you over the validity of the statement, he stays silent. Replaces any verbal response with a physical one by nuzzling into the warmth of your stomach and laying kisses around your navel.

You watch the affectionate gesture and trail your fingers down to the nape of his neck, massaging the tender skin there.

"You are," you whisper, "One mistake doesn't define you. Doesn't change how I see you."

"It's not just a simple mistake-" he starts.

"Yes it is," you interject, trying to nip his self doubt in the bud.

"It's not. It's not like I forgot your birthday or left my wallet behind when taking you out."

"It's still an accident. The severity doesn't change the intention. Would you hate me if my powers acted up and hurt you?"

God, you could be just as stubborn as him. It grated on his already frayed nerves. He shifts to look up at you fully. And some of that building tension dissolves upon seeing the earnest look on your face.

"It's not the same. Anything you did to me, I would heal," he says.

"I'm healing too. I'm just not as fast as you," you respond. You actually smile as if this is some lighthearted matter. Of course you knew it wasn't the same. You presented no danger to him whereas if he'd nicked you an inch to the left, he might be talking to your headstone right now instead of you. That wasn't the point though.

He shakes his head. "It's different, bub. But I'm not even saying you should hate me..."

In truth, he didn't know what he was saying. If he wanted you to hate him or stay away from him, he could be the one to break things off. But he was still right here, arms wrapped around you and head hovering inches away from your body.

"I just think you should be more cautious than you're being," he finishes, "I don't want you to think you have to put up with this."

You frown and pet his hair. "I don't think that."

"I'm not trying to lecture you, baby," he sighs, "I just don't want to hurt you again."

He could certainly flaunt a pair of puppy eyes when he wanted to. The way he was looking up at you now made him seem so sad and wounded. Like a dog who can't control when he bites but gets kicked aside for it all the same.

"You're not going to. We'll be careful. It was an accident," you say, tone almost pleading, "You're still my Logan."

To go along with your words, you pull on one of his arms, beckoning him closer. He complies with your request and scales your body so that the two of you are aligned. You stare up into his eyes and the whirlpools of emotion within them. Your hand lands on his cheek, your thumb stroking back and forth in small swipes.

"I'm not gonna let you pull away cause of this," you whisper, "It wasn't your fault. You don't choose to have those dreams."

You can tell he wants to argue, but he struggles to find the words. Indirectly cutting him off, you guide his head closer to yours. His face slots against the crook of your neck, and yours does the same in his. You nuzzle him there, breathing in the rich, musky scent of him.

"You're not wrong for wanting to be happy. You don't deserve to be alone," you say and kiss below his ear.

The words make him ache from within. His metal bones vibrate with the weight of possibility of that being true while his heartbeat feels as though it stutters between his ribs. He wants to huff and say that he knows, that he doesn't need you psychoanalyzing him, thank you very much. But none of that will come out. So instead he chuckles. He tries to make it sound smooth; although, the awkwardness is apparent in each bit.

He pulls back a little and smirks down at you. "So you think I'm cut out for being gentle? Is that it?"

You know what he's doing. As closed off as he tries to be, you don't need telepathy to sense what he's feeling. You let him play it off with a joke though. If he's joking, he's not drowning in self-pity, which is all you want.

"Mhm, I know you are," you say and nose at his cheek, kissing the spot on it without facial hair, "You may have claws, but you purr like a kitten when I have my hands on you."

His eyes roll when you say that. He leans down and begins to return some of your loving gestures.

"Don't go telling people that. It's only for you," he murmurs.

"Of course, of course," you say with the same subtle playfulness.

Words die out in favor of using your mouths for better things. The kisses are lazy, built more off of love and adoration rather than lust and passion. One of your arms loops over his shoulders to keep him close while your other rubs at his side. The tip of his nose brushes your earlobe as he lowers to kiss down your throat.

His lips meet your pulse point and the divots in your neck that make you shudder when touched. He's familiar with all your secret spots by now. He plays you better than any instrument. His breath fans over your skin as his teeth scrape against the same flesh. His hands work below, squeezing your waist, fingertips leaving little bumps in their wake.

The hand of yours that had been on his side drifts further down and wiggles its way between your two bodies. Your digits stroke his pelvis above the area his cock would soon begin to harden.

A groan reverberates through his chest as his shaft rises to attention. From this angle, the pads of your fingers can reach the tip. You rub on it with light pressure, up and down. That gets him to repeat the groan, only this time the undertone of need is more prominent.

His lips latch onto your neck to work a little mark onto your skin while he pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down his thighs. You were only wearing a cropped t-shirt and panties, already easily accessible.

He nudges your thighs apart further and grinds his bulge over your mound. The heat from both your aching centers grows hotter with the friction. Arching your back off the bed, you whimper softly for further satisfaction. He presses you back down using his larger stature.

"Patience, sweetheart. Being gentle, remember?"

He only teases you with a few more grinds of his hips before his boxers vanish too and his heavy cock rests against the soft fabric of your panties. You feel the familiar thickness at first. Then his fingers swoop down and pull your panties to the side so he can slot the drippy tip against your folds. Precum smears against your slick, velvety skin.

Seconds later he splits you open. He bites his lip while you whine, his fat cock pushing further into your wanting hole. You squeeze around him. Your walls clamp and contract on his length. It doesn't push him out, merely sucks him further in. He chokes out a low moan from how tight you get.

So tight and so wet. Arousal oozes from you in no short supply. It didn't take much to get you going for Logan. A few touches alone had you leaking like a broken faucet. You whimper as he bottoms out, hips jerking as the head taps your cervix. He always gets so deep it's nearly unbearable. Even when he's going slow like he is now, he's all you can think of. He fills you up down there and occupies all the space in your head.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks.

You nod, unable to respond verbally as you adjust to the intrusion.

He doesn't give you a prolonged period of time to adapt right now. Normally he would, but most other times, he'd be going much faster than he plans to at this moment. Typically, he'd let you get comfy with the stretch before drawing his hips back and then pumping them forward again. He'd slam in and out of you. It'd be loud with the sound of skin clapping combined with your moans and his growls. It'd be rough and quick. The bed would shake and bobble around with the force of him.

But tonight, none of that happens. He barely even pulls out to thrust. He stays nice and deep, grinding his hips rather than fucking himself in and out of you. You whine in sweet stretches of sound. He sighs and grunts against your neck. Neither of you sound like feral animals going into heat.

You loved when you fucked like that, but right now, both of you needed this. Each roll of his hips felt like a stroke of heaven brushing your insides. Your limbs curl around him tighter to keep him close. Your arms guard his neck while your legs dig into his hips. He's so lost in the feeling of you, he can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

"Tell me how it feels. Need to hear you. Wanna know I'm doing it how you need," he mumbles.

"Feels perfect," you whimper in return, "So fuckin' deep."

"Good. I only ever wanna make you feel good."

You nod, knowing it's the truth. "Anyone can hurt me, but only you know how to make me feel like this."

His eyes scrunch up at your words. He just feels lucky he has his face buried against your skin so you can't see. It had been just what he needed to hear. Boosting himself onto his knees a bit more to gain some leverage, he grips your hips and ruts against you with the slightest bit more force.

You whine at the soothing rhythm in which your bodies rock. The sense of satisfaction brought on from this took root in the deepest pit of your belly. You weren't gonna explode like you often did. Probably wouldn't scream or scratch up his back. But you could tell you were gonna cum hard.

Without saying it, he communicates he feels the same. His lack of usual dirty talk tells you everything you need to know. His cock stays nestled deep inside your pussy as he works you both to the edge. His face remains flush against your neck.

You cum first, and he follows right behind. You tighten up, toes curling and a high mewl echoing out of your throat. Your body shivers. He spills his release inside of you, his energy leaving with the sticky ropes of cum that fire.

He goes boneless on top of you, still cherishing the feeling of your skin on his. His breaths feel cool against your sweating skin.

"My baby," he sighs. His eyes flutter shut. He knows he has to pull out before he knocks out for a while, but he can do that in a second. He just needs a few more minutes of this.

You press a few kisses to the side of his head and rub his back. His hand slides between both your abdomen to touch the scars, reminding himself what he's capable of despite his current tenderness.

After a few moments, he pulls out and slumps to the side of you. You peck his lips and take the acquisition of space as a way to cool off. His eyes are drooping already. It feels good seeing him so relaxed. You kiss the space between his brows, then the bridge of his knows, and end on his lips.

"Sweet dreams," you whisper, wishing that would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay. At least for tonight.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine imagine #wolverine smut #x men x reader #marvel x reader #marvel smut

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suguann · 9 months ago

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FUCK IT, I WANT YOU—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦

✎. jjk men who are infatuated with you. | wc. 2.4k+

tags. fem!reader, bsf sister, cockwarming, slightly rough sex, best friends to lovers, exhibitionism, breast f*cking, domestic nanami, pet names, praise, mild dark content, dubcon, stepcest, stuckage

featuring. gojo, higuruma, nanami, geto, sukuna

an. banner is from hare kon okawari | masterlist

↬ GOJO

He shouldn’t even entertain the thought of wanting you—somewhere in the world, there’s a book of rules that says you shouldn’t develop a crush on your best friend’s little sister.

It doesn’t stop him from letting you talk him into shopping (as if he’d ever tell you no) and watching you try on tiny, flowy sundresses that make his jaw ache, how he’s just on the side of too-weak for those low-scooped tops you’re always wearing whenever he’s at your house.

At first, Gojo wonders if you do it on purpose—the bashful smiles and bumping shoulders if he’s close by—but you’re painfully shy for that to be the case. It’s why a smirk tugs at his mouth after leaving love bites across your chest when he finally gets you alone in his room so that he might see the adorable little face you make as you try to cover them up afterward.

He has you perched in his lap on the bed with an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you rooted on his cock buried deep inside the hot-wet heat between your legs. His mouth sucks marks into your skin wherever he can reach, deep groans rumbling in his chest every time your pussy clenches down on him—a sweet reminder that he hasn’t let you move for a while.

“Toru, not there,” you squeak, fingers knotting in the hair at his nape to gently pull him away. “People will see.”

But he doesn’t listen as he rolls a nipple between his fingers, mesmerized by the sight of it pebbling into a tight peak—your thighs shaking around him when he pinches too hard.

“So fucking pretty,” he growls, biting his lip as he finally looks up at you. “Just let me play with them a bit more, and then I’ll fuck you. I promise.”

A white lie, but he’s done and said worse, and this isn’t that. This is him savoring a victory he never knew he had until you fluttered those long lashes and asked for a kiss.

You’re gasping and writhing, unable to do anything except sit there while he overstimulates you with his mouth and fingers. When he finally rolls you over onto your back, you’ve already cum twice, but that doesn’t stop him, greedy hips churning against yours and stealing another.

He sucks a nipple into his mouth, loving how you quiver underneath him, your soft socks slipping where they try to rest around his waist. “You’re so sensitive, huh, baby?” he rasps, nosing the soft swell of your breast as he crowds you underneath him.

You mewl out a broken version of his name, hot pants against his neck that make you sound so desperate—not really answering him as your nails bite into his shoulders—and he can’t get over the way you look right now, how you sound. He’ll never be able to go back to pretending that you’re Geto’s annoying little sister (as if he ever thought you were) as Gojo watches drool trail from the side of your mouth from how good he’s fucking you.

“Do you know how filthy you look right now?” he grits between his teeth. “Been thinking about this for so long—fuck—can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

↬ HIGURUMA

It’s an accident the first time it happens.

You’re at the beach, playing with him in the water, when a wave hits you and washes your bikini top away. You squeal, and because he’s your best friend and has always looked out for you, he doesn’t realize right away he used his hands to shield your bare breasts from everyone else on the beach—eyes round when Higuruma does.

It’s innocent—his intent—yet alarm bells are ringing in his ears.

He expects you to shove him away—you don’t. Instead, you give him a sweet smile with a soft, muttered thank you and let him carry you back to the towels.

He’s still reeling at how you fit perfectly in his palms, skin against skin in a way he’s only ever shamefully imagined alone with his fist around his dick. It has him shifting his trunks uncomfortably, and he wants—no, needs (a definite need) more.

Higuruma spreads you out on your towel under the canopy of the large beach umbrella, the shirt he gave you pushed up and held out of the way under your chin as you watch him. His shoulders block out anybody from really seeing how he’s teasing your nipples into his mouth—your fingers digging into the hair at his nape to keep him there.

He never thought he’d get this far after years of watching you dance around the periphery of his life without ever really being his. How seeing you like this—whimpering his name under your breath, eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks, and grinding onto his thigh pressed up between yours—only ever existed in a fantasy or two.

There’s nothing to do but watch as the lines of an eight-year friendship crumble into the sand with your soft squeaks of more, and his low groans fuck, and he can’t bring himself to feel anything other than a small flame doused in kerosene.

If this is the sacrifice for holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your sweat-slick skin, he’ll gladly burn.

He’d keep you like this forever if he could, and the way you look at him, pleading with your eyes, makes him think you’d let him if he asked (or maybe he wouldn’t have to).

He releases your nipple and smiles when your shirt falls from your teeth with a whine, your foot stomping against the towel in a way that’s too fucking cute.

“Why’d you stop?”

All the blood and heat in his body rush to his dick at how needy you sound—for him, all for him—and his breath fans across your spit-slick skin shakily, pent up and overflowing with nerves he’s held onto for as long as he can remember. “Sweetheart, you have to be quiet.”

You nod eagerly, your grip tightening in his hair to bring him back towards you. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be quiet. Just please don’t stop.”

Never.

When your leg brushes the tent in his trunks, it feels like his eyes roll into the back of his head from the contact. He greedily takes your tight, sensitive peak back into his mouth again—hardly paying attention to the wanton moans you fail to suppress as you continue grinding onto his thigh.

↬ NANAMI

Nanami stares at you more often than usual after you have his son—at how your chest fills out every top you wear, and your hips become the perfect place for his hands—a strange new obsession that develops overnight without a manual or an off switch.

One day, you’re his beautiful wife. The next, you’re his beautiful wife holding his baby, and suddenly, he’s seeing the world through a clear lens, and he can’t stop looking.

His hands are always on you just to curb the constant ache that never really fades, brushing hair out of your face, massaging your lower back, shamelessly letting them wander too close to the underside of your breasts whenever he can. Sometimes, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and sometimes it’s all he can think to do.

Some days, after a stressful work day, he’ll lay atop your chest and pepper kisses against whatever skin he can reach, wandering, eager hands getting their fill until he falls asleep. On other days, he stays up long enough—baby tucked away in his crib and the monitor softly humming on the coffee table—to peel your clothes out of the way to get the full picture.

“Just like that, darling,” he groans, watching where you’re kneeled between his legs, unable to take his eyes off the way his leaky tip peeks out from between your soft, bare breasts.

You stick out your tongue to lick away the pearl of white drooling out of his slit, only to spit it back onto his cock to help aid your up and down movements. It has him throbbing at how messy it is, liquid-hot heat pooling in his stomach at how good it feels. He knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he’s torn on whether or not to stop you or let you keep going.

“How does it feel?” you peer up at him through long lashes like you don’t already know what you’re doing to him.

“‘Good, darling. So fucking good—fuck, keep going—pretty little wife on her knees for me,” he curses, hips shuddering when he thrusts up, watching his length disappear and reappear again and again.

The delicate smile that adorns your lips makes his heart flutter, and balls draw up to his body. “Yeah? You gonna cum, Kento?”

“I don’t—I, fuck, yes.” He’d much rather finish with his face buried in your tits, but he’s already too far gone to pull away, to shove you down onto the couch.

You hum softly. “I want you to cum on me. Please.”

That’s his final undoing, groaning at the thought of him marking those cute tits that take up his every spare thought, cumming unexpectedly in a rush of white-hot pleasure before he can stop it. His cock jerks until viscous streaks of white paint your chest, and it makes everything sticky and sloppy, sending a weak burst of liquid pleasure rushing up his spine before he slumps against the couch with a satisfied sigh.

↬ GETO

He loves it when you’re like this. Soft and pliant beneath him, eyelashes spiked with tears.

He doesn’t know where to look—can’t decide between the smattering of possessive marks littering the inside of your thighs or the ones that travel across your chest.

A decision easily made for him when he presses the tip of his sensitive cock back into your fluttering cunt, unable to tear his eyes away from how your breasts bounce with every one of his harsh, desperate thrusts. His thumb smooths over a peaked nipple—bitten raw and pinched tight—and he curses under his breath at the feel of you clenching on him like a vice.

You tell him how good he feels under a hitched breath, and his chest tightens because he can’t remember the last time someone used an adjective like that to describe him. Good. It’s weird how such a simple word can make Geto’s head spin and make him feel like anything other than the man he is outside your bed.

He ducks his head down to suck another little bruise right above your nipple, the corners of his mouth curling slightly, knowing that he’ll be the only one that’ll know it exists.

“Prettiest fucking girl I know,” he breathes harshly, already close. “I wish you could see how perfect you look.”

Geto slips his fingers between you, playing over the tiny, sensitive bud at the peak of your thighs.

“Oh.” A soft sigh.

“Maybe I should take a picture, huh? Would you let me? So I can look at you like this,” —he thrusts deep, making sure you’ll be able to feel him afterward— “all damn day, every fucking day.”

And like a tightrope snapping loose, you fall apart around him, practically choking his cock, and he fills up your cunt for the second time that night.

↬ SUKUNA

You're cleaning the apartment you share with your step-brother until it's spotless because the guy you’ve kind of had a crush on since the start of the semester is coming over today to study, and the butterflies in your belly tell you today is the day he’s finally going to ask you out.

What you don’t anticipate—between throwing away Sukuna’s collection of energy drinks on the coffee table and doing a load of laundry—is the possibility of getting stuck in the too-small dryer while reaching for a sock or that your brother would be the one to find you bent over with your shorts riding up your legs.

You suppress a groan at the sound of Sukuna's patronizing voice behind you. "What do we have here?"

"Don't just stand there, idiot," you hiss. "Help me."

He chuckles in that mean, condescending way that always sets your teeth on edge. "You're really bossy for someone with their ass hanging out of a dryer. Maybe I should leave you here and wait for Mick—”

“His name’s Mitch—”

“—to find you."

"No!" you say almost too loudly, wincing as your voice echoes around the dryer. With a small sigh, your head hanging, you add, "Please help me."

"That's better."

It's quiet for a moment, and you start fidgeting again to free yourself until you feel a pair of large hands palming your hips, and you can't stop the squeak that escapes the back of your throat—not expecting the terrible-hot-wrongness of it to feel so good.

A feeling stirs in your belly that you’d tucked away long ago, and only returning to under the safety of the baby blue twinkle string lights in your room—hand in your sleep shorts and teeth digging an imprint into the palm of your hand to hold back the name you only chant in your head.

“You’re s-supposed to be helping,” your voice wavers, dizzy with what’s transpiring in that cramped laundry room.

He huffs a soft laugh behind you, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine where your shirt rode up. “Give me a minute.”

It's embarrassing when you feel wetness pooling in the seat of your underwear, heat rushing from the roots of your hair and down to your toes when his hands travel over the swell of your ass in your tiny shorts.

You're almost compelled to tell him you’ll get out on your own because it’s the right thing to do—to put a stop to something that shouldn’t happen except in cheap porn. Then his hand comes down against your backside, hard, and every single thought in your head scrambles like an egg on hot pavement.

You whimper, the force of his slap jolting you further into the dryer, sweaty hands scrambling against the metal walls to keep your face from crashing into it.

"Fuck, I've always wanted to do that,” he breathes before tugging the crotch of your shorts and panties out of the way, and you feel something wet and slick drip against your cunt. "Maybe I'll just keep you here for a bit. What do you say, sis?"

His thumb runs along your slit and presses inside you.

“Ah. W-wai—”

“Shh. Just—fuck, so fucking tight—just let me enjoy this pussy, huh?” And quieter, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

You shiver and swallow around the words threatening to escape: me, too.

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kurooandkenmasslut · 3 months ago

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jjk dilfs x pregnant!reader

(reader is far into the pregnancy, much to jjk mens excitement yet worry.)

no minors! (I didn't feel like aging up yuuji and megumi and so on..) && no sukunaaa sorryyy

tojis is super short, I apologise!! if this gets enough attention I might make it longer but i wanted this out asap lmfao

⭒SATORU GOJO↫

when dream becomes reality

“But!-”

“no buts, sweets. just rest your cute lil buttocks on the couch.” gojo fought back. everytime you'd protest to do something, he'd always be there to retort. Especially since your due date was nearing.

you bit your lip, staring up at him. You felt kind of bad. He does everything for you, cleaning, shopping for you everyday, even learning a new skill which was cooking, just for you.

lying on his chest as you both watch your favourite tv show, his large hand caressing your belly bump.

“what do you think the baby'll be?” you ask, staring up at his face. Gojo stared at your face for a moment, not thinking, just admiring his wife.

“a boy.” he says, no hesitation.

“ehhh? why do you think that? I think it's a girl.”

“my dreams, sweets.” he smiles and you chuckle. At the near the start of your relationship, satoru had a dream of where you are now. Him being the strongest sorcerer, you his wife, with a baby boy. He had his absolutely gorgeous eyes and long lashes and most of his features, the cute baby taking your haircolor and your pretty smile. Oh if only younger gojo saw him now, he would of cried in happiness.

with a flushed face, he admitted it, completely out of his mind. drunk gojo smirked as he told described how beautiful it was, not knowing how embarrassed he was, but he didn't mind the part where his dream came true.

as embarrassing as it is for gojo to recall the memory, he still laughs with you, because if you find it funny, then he's content. maybe revealing another embarrassing secret, just to make you laugh, isn't that bad.

⭒CHOSO KAMO↫

First time daddy!

as soon as choso found out you were pregnant, he typed up on google what pregnant means, he was happy for the most part but.. worry and nervousment still lingered. He was actually surprised he could reproduce since he was a half curse. Negative thoughts was set on his mind. He felt as if his child would be scared of him. And if they were, which in his mind, they were likely to, he would curl up and bawl on the floor.

You gave told choso over and over again everyday, saying there's nothing to be worried about and that he'll be an amazing father, but he still felt like it, no matter the words you repeated. Not to mention, the people outside your relationship gossiped, especially about choso. On how he is a 'monster', a curse, not fit to parent with a human, that you deserve better. He would hear them on the streets, anywhere and everywhere. He did try not letting them get to him, but hearing it constantly everytime he went in public was very exhausting.

any time you tripped, or just an honest accident, choso felt like he was responsible for not taking care of you properly. Even though, it wasn't his fault.

So when that baby pushed through, God, he wanted to cry. Although the nurses rushed to clean him, he clenched your sweaty palm. Wiping away the stray hairs that stuck onto your sweaty forehead. You panted, leaning into his touch.

the nurses carried your baby gently and carefully, placing him into your arms. The nurses cooed before leaving you with choso.

Choso wasn't an emotional person, but big fat tears swam down his pale face, his hands covering his face. You lightly chuckled.

“do you want to hold him?” funny how that small, little sentence almost made him faint.

“b-but.. what if I drop him?” choso muttered, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. Nervous was an understatement. “nonsense! we practiced for this, remember? Here, my arms are tired, cho.” you say, yawning. Gently pushing the newborn into his hands, choso cradled his head in his hand, while his arm held his body.

You didn't get time to oogle, as your bufy shut down like a light.

The baby opened his eyes, big doe circles looking back at him. They both held eye contact before the baby started laughing, having his small little hand on chosos pale face. Choso was shocked to say the least. He didn't think his baby would giggle when he saw him, but he certainly isn't mad.

Waking up a while later, you rubbed your eyes with a yawn. That was a good sleep. Turning your head over to see where choso went, you stared at the cute sight.

Choso, in the seat next to your bed, was sitting there, sleeping. The baby was cradled in his arms with a strong grip, but not a uncomfortable grip. They both snored away, making you giggle a bit, reaching out to hold chosos hand and whispering,

“I love you two boys.”

⭒SHIU KONG↫

personal taxi..

Staring at the cars passing out the window, looking bored. You then started having a competition between two raindrops on the window.

Seeing that the specific raindrop that you were rooting for to win had lost, already soured your mood.

“im hungry, shiu. Can we go to the bakery? Pretty pleasee? I really, really want to get that new donut flavor they released!” you begged. Shiu, your very lovely husband who may or may not drive to the shop, sighed.

“babe, you just ate. We literally had a mcdonalds 10 minutes ago.”

“okay, but im carrying your baby. You do realise that there's another mouth to feed, and that im going to tear my body trying to give birth to your baby right?” you whined, batting your pretty lashes at him. No matter what, he always gives in. I mean, who could argue with that? That's the truth.

Smiling cheekily at him, you began to slightly kick your feet, excited he's complying. Works everytime.

looking at all the buildings that passes the vehicle, you can tell your almost near your destination.

feeling the baby kick, you accidentally let out a grunt. “that damn baby..” you mutter through furrowed brows. Shiu laughs, “no way you're already cursing out our baby.. not even out yet, doll. Im sure theyre just excited as you are going to this damn bakery.” you roll your eyes, not wanting to retort back to his remark. I mean, you don't blame your baby for being excited, because you love it too. as soon as they were born, you can bet that your taking them here every time possible.

seeing the building you were dying to see, a smile formed on your face. Hunger took over your body, jumping out of the car as soon as shiu parked and turned it off.

“aye, woman! Would you wait on me, jeez.. impatient women these days..” shiu called out, muttering the last part so you wouldn't hear. He knows he would get a red ear if you did. hurrying out as he also knows that you would huff if he dared to take 5 seconds longer and would've went without him. Not only that, but he didn't want you to trip over anything to hurt yourself.

shiu put his hands around your waist as you two walked. A cute little detail you adored.

The bell rang when you opened the door, the waitress greeting you when she walked passed. The aroma was hints of warm coffee and cinnamon. It felt really comforting, whixh is why your a usual customer.

Thankfully, there wasn't much of a line, but long enough for time to think about your order.

You were up next, so you two ordered.

Getting seated down the back right next to the window. You finished your pastry in about a minute while shiu was mid way into a bite, staring at you like you were crazy.

Both of you held eye contact before breaking it with a fit of laughs. You and Shiu couldn't wait for a third person giggling aswell, possibly a specific baby..

⭒SUGURU GETO↫

suguru's house rules

as soon as suguru found out that you, his wife, his one and only, got knocked up by him, he immediately made everything in the house baby proof. Even at the start at the pregnancy.

Raising two girls by himself wasn't easy, but now that he's experienced parenting, he knows all the tips and tricks.

“you will not be lifting a finger, unless you need to go to the restroom or something.. anyway, next if you need anything while I'm away, the girls will always be by your side if you need anything. If you need me at any time, I'm keeping my phone on me all day, just incase.” suguru says, with his cute little smile. You blink at him blankly, as if he doesn't tell you this everyday.

“sugu, you do realise I can do stuff by myself, right?” you say, tilting your head. You have this conversation everyday, yet you don't know why you bother because he never budges. You didn't want to treat your two angels, mimiko and nanako, like your servants while you sat there like royal.

“nonsense! I don't want my princess in there and my angel here moving around alot, don't want you to fall or anything, you know?” he mumbles. You glare up at him as he smiled sweetly at you. As if he didn't make a cheeky reference to the one to many times of when you got up when the two girls weren't looking, your poor knees gave out. And when suguru got that certain phone call, he seriously almost passed out in worry. After all of that, he still is wary of leaving the house most days, afraid something might happen again and he isn't there.

suguru sits back in satisfaction after just smothering you with kisses, something he usually does before he leaves for his cult. He hates dealing with them damn monkeys, but one of his many goals is to get as many curses as possible, so he'll take what he can get.

standing up, he calls put to the girls, who were currently making you lunch.

“mimi, nana! I'm leaving now, you coming to say bye?!” he yelled not to loud, not wanting to damage your hearing because of him. The two girls pounce on him, his arms full of his two angels.

“come home safe!” “hurry up coming home, there's a new cafe that opened and I wanna try it!” they squealed, suguru only chuckling in response, patting their head with his usual smile.

“take care of mommy over there, mkay?” suguru slightly bent down to their level, his voice low. They nodded enthusiastically, giving him one final hug before he went.

suguru closed the door, summoning his rainbow dragon. If he could marry you over and over, he would.

⭒NANAMI KENTO↫

worry 'bout yourself, baby!

wiping the slight dampness off your forehead, you finally made it to your destination. the nursery room. Putting your hands on your hip, you stared at the random peices of the unbuilt crib on the floor.

Peaking our the door and looking at your husbands closed office door, hearing him on the phone to his coworker. Perfect timing.

Recently, nanami has been working at home to watch over you a bit more, even though he has papers half the height of you to fill out. You didn't wanna bother him from his work again today, and plus, you wanted to be independent and brag about how you built this crib by yourself to your baby later. But, you knew nanami would get kind of mad that you lifted a finger, you didn't care.

If you sat down on the floor to even sort it out, you wouldnt get back up again and would need kentos help. And so, bending down to pick up the peices, you started to feel dizzy after a bit of back and forth of putting the pieces on the table.

'only a few peices left.' the thought trailed through your mind after each peice. Although, your baby thought otherwise, giving a nice brutal kick on the walls of your belly. A sudden yelp came, followed by a quick slap to the mouth as you have now blown your cover. Thr house was silent. Not hearing the mumble of kentos voice, now hearing the footsteps coming to the nursery. Mentally cursing our baby out, the door opened.

“honey? whats wrong? why are you- don't tell me you're trying to build the crib again?” kento said, scratching his blonde undercut. Smiling sheepishly with a slight nod.

“dear, I told you I would build it as soon as I get through the paperwork, didn't I?” kento says, shaking his head.

“but! you were in your office, already filled to the brim with workload and that damn paperwork. I didn't want to make it your new problem, you know? You're always taking care of me. And who told you that even a quarter of that shit was alright? I can have a word with them if you want.”

“my love, you will never be a problem to me, ever. What kind of husband would I be if I thought that? You're crazy.” Kento says, a small smile forming on his lips at thought of you worrying about him and his wellbeing. A rare sight indeed.

“and instead of worrying about me, worry about yourself, yeah? I'm sure your back is broke, my love. Please rest yourself, it's not good for the baby if you don't get rest, i told you this. Lets get you to the living room, yeah?” kento says into your neck, not giving you a choice.

Kento put his hands on your lower back, slowly massaging the spot you usually get sore. guiding you down the living room humming your favourite tune. almost in time for your reality show to be on, your luck.

Wasn't long until your eyes was stuck on the tv, drama brewing on the first few seconds.

Kento stands there, content. Not because of the tv show, no, its you. He wouldn't know where he would he standing, whether it would be on earth or the skies, without you.

⭒TOJI FUSHIGURO↫

short tempered woman and tired husband.

“woman, I am not going to feed you toothpaste.”

“well, why the hell not?!” you responded, rasing a brow. Toji grumbled, absolutely set on not giving you toothpaste for food.

“would you just sleep? I'm not giving you toothpaste to eat. Why the hell are you so weird?!”

“hhaaah?! What did you just say?!”

nights went on like that. Different item, same outcome. Toji with a red ear and your back to him. Toji doesn't know if your stable or not as you requested for a bowl of dirt to eat a few nights ago. He only knew about women's weird food craving a while ago when he saw you eating a chocolate bar with ketchup as a dip.

(toji finds it kinda hot when you get angry... kinky)

Toji put his head in his hands, covering his eyes. He let out a sigh before questioning you.

“are you eating toast and ice cream again?”

“yeah, so what? Any odds to you, old man..”

“oh, your so gonna regret that. We've been here before, and your belly bump is the result.” toji smirks, chuckling at your flushed face. And yet, his outcome is the same.

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catsaurofmagiccomedy · 1 year ago

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I runned out of tags,, i will compile all of this and reblog it as text, i guess

Please put your logic in the tags I’m genuinely interested in this cause I’ve seen a few good takes already, even if I think something different.

Please remember that avatar and victim are two different things and while there are certainly overlaps in some instances mostly an avatar is a manifestation of a power that gains energy from feeding off of victims of the power that they belong to. They can still suffer from a power, but they aren’t it’s main prey, more of a mouth piece. Or living snare.

#okey. so this is gonna be long #first: dual avatar of the hunt & stranger; why? hunt: he's always chasing something. whenever he's up and awake he's moving towards #something and when he finishes? he INMIDEATELY starts chasing something else he's could be defined like the hunt ritual “everchase”#stranger: he's so uncanny. he's always talking to himself; he always looks at you slightly off; every person that encounters him casually #ends up seeing something strange about him!#all of those chats w John while in cabs? you can bet the drivers were creeped right the fuck off abt him! and that deff feeds the stranger #second: the eye and the web “are fond” of him; web: he's so good at manipulating people! if he wasn't so insistent on pursing people & goals #he definetly would've been snatched as a web avatar (similar to what happened to martin) i don't think he could be an avatar of it simply bc #he would refuse to be puppettered by the mother and all of her avatars are #he prefers to resolve his problems by chasing & violence (sidenote: not slaughter avatar bc his violence is NOT sudden and spontaneous nor #is it unmotivated or unpredictable)#eye: i mean? our boy is SET on knowing things even if they could potentially or definetly hurt him or even those around him! what's more eye #than that? (that was literally what led Jon to fully become The Archivist if Arthur's eyes were still his own he would've been an eye avatar #for sure)#third: victim of the dark; the desolation; and obvs touched by the spiral maybe even the buried & the corruption #dark: he does no longer have his eyes all he can see is darkness and he hates it! it would be so easy for him to get fed to the dark #especially bc he KNOWS there are monsters that go bump in the night and people out to get him his fears are not a “maybe” they are a “when”#desolation: my man has been taking L after L- I mean- ok seriously #he keeps having one devastating loss after another (this is before even getting fully into canon; pre-canon + 1st part) he barely has the #time to get all of his pieces and gluing them back together before another tragedy or accident decks him in the face (his parents then bella #then faroe then parker) his life is loss and recovery from it only to get pushed back into it the second he is slightly back up #and his persons lead me to:#corruption: his relationships man; they are a lil messed up! he could so so easily get consumed by what loves him and tells him he's a home #his parents can't love him anymore; they're dead Bella never loved him; he never loved her they only married bc she was pregnant! he loved #Faroe so so much but he lost her because of his own actions and Parker got him out of the (metaphorical) pit he was in he clung to him as a #life boat & he was still alive bc of Parker and Parker alone at that point. he's also dead. now he has John; they bicker and they tear #eachother apart they hurt the other so deeply but they cant separate because the alternative is so much worse (even if John got a body they #would still be so codependent of each other; their souls are interwined after all)#you could argue he's already a home for what loves him. after all isn't he a home for John?#buried: man has been thru: 1) a loveless marriage; 2) the pit (non-metaphorical) i would not be surprised if all of his life he felt trapped

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imaginaryf1shots · 1 month ago

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Soulmate | Carlos Sainz Ver.

WC: 4.8K

Csrlos x Soulmate!reader

Summery: Everyone can feel their soulmate's injuries and pain since the age of 15

Warning: None??

AN: Thank you for all the ideas. I just changed jobs, and it's a full time office job, so it's very demanding 🙄🙃

Max Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver., Lewis Ver.

Masterlist

Carlos Masterlist

The world is built on the idea that soulmates are connected through their physical pain. Everyone knows that if you're injured or in pain, your soulmates feel the exact same pain. This can be seen as a blessing or as a curse. In one way, you know when your other half is injured, but it also brings shared vulnerability. Some believed it was a form of protection, a way for soulmates to be in tune with one another, even if they'd never met.

Now, did you know about this from a young age? Yes, you did. Did that stop you from doing all those crazy things that caused you multiple injuries? No. You felt sorry every time, but you're just clumsy by nature. It was from the moment you could walk that you've been a klutz. Bumping into walls, tripping over your own feet, and misjudging the occasional stair, it was part of your life. Growing up, you've gotten used to the bumps and bruises that came with her natural clumsiness, but what took longer to adjust to was the knowledge that someone else felt them, too.

Your soulmate must be a saint because you've rarely felt any pain. Yes, through the years, there have been times when you felt real and strong pain, but it was few and far between.

In a world of soulmates that felt their soulmates through visceral pain, your soulmate did everything he could to never cause you pain.

And for as long as you could remember, you’d imagined what he might be like. Patient for sure, after all, he had to endure your countless scrapes and missteps. You wondered if he was the type to sigh and shake his head when he felt you stub your toe or if he was used to your clumsiness, so much so that it barely bothered him anymore. Whoever he was, you were grateful got him.

Your friends often teased you about it, especially when you had a particularly bad fall or ended up with an impressive bruise. “You really owe your soulmate an apology.” They would always joke. “He must be so fed up by now.”

You’d always laugh it off, but late at night you’d overthink. Did he really mind? Or was he out there somewhere laughing about it, too? What was his life like? Was he clumsy, too? You doubt it. He must be the complete opposite, composed and careful, someone who rarely felt pain unless it was coming from you. Maybe he was a doctor or an athlete, someone who needed precision and strength in his day-to-day life. Your imagination would always run wild, paining pictures of him in your mind. But no matter how many times you tried to envision his face, it remained just out of reach, like the hazy details of a dream.

The older you got the more curious you got, and it started eating at you. Who was he? Where was he? Some people met their soulmate early on, like your childhood friend who had found hers at eighteen. Others never found theirs at all, even though they shared the pain for their entire lives. You tried not to let it bother you too much, after all what could you do? If you’re meant to meet it’ll happen on it’s own time.

But still there was that nagging feeling every time you bumped your knee or accidently burned your hand cooking. You would wince and imagine him somewhere far away, gritting his teeth as he felt the same.

“Another one for you soulmate.” You muttered as you stumbled over a crack in the pavement.

For as long as you lived with the bond you’ve been the one giving the worst of pains, sending your soulmate injuries, most harmless, but you’ve also broken enough bones over the years.

It started as a dull ache, just beneath your ribs on the right side. At first, you didn’t think much of it, assuming it’s a muscle strain or maybe it’s something you’ve eaten. You shifted in your seat, pressing your hand against the spot as if to massage the discomfort away, but the ache lingered, stubborn and unrelenting.

Throughout the day the pain grew worse. What started as mild throb quickly became sharp, stabbing sensation, taking your breath away every time you moved, and you started to feel a fever coming. This wasn’t like the occasional bump or fall you’re used to, this is far worse than anything you’ve felt before. This is different, deeper, persistent and alarming.

By late afternoon, you couldn’t take it anymore, every breath felt like a knife twisting in your side, and no matter how you positioned yourself, it wouldn’t go away. Sweat was forming on your forehead as you tried to power through the pain, but something wasn’t right.

Could this be coming from him?

You never felt pain like this before, certainly not from your own body. Your chest tightened, if this pain wasn’t yours, then something is very wrong. The idea that your soulmate could be hurt, really hirt, it made your stomach churn. You could handle minor injuries, but this? This was different.

You rushed to the hospital, the ride to the hospital felt like an eternity. By the time you arrived, you were sweating and clutching your side, each movement like a dagger. You explained your symptoms to the nurse at the reception, your voice wavering with pain and fear,

They rushed you into an examination room.

“We’ll run some tests.” The doctor said after you told him your symptoms, his brows furrowed with concern. “It sounds like it could be appendicitis, but we’ll know more once we do an ultrasound.”

As the minutes dragged on, the pain sharpened, radiating into your chest. You clutched the hospital bed’s metal rails, your knuckles turned white as you waited. Nurses and doctors came and went performing the tests as quickly as they could. After what felt like hours the doctor came back.

“The tests came back normal.” He began, flipping through the papers in his hands. “There’s no sign of appendicitis, in fact, you don’t have an appendix.” That was news to you.

“What? I don’t have it? Is that normal?” You asked confused.

“It’s rare but it happens some people are born without an appendix.” The doctor confirmed, he didn’t seem too worried.

“But the pain, it’s unbearable, what’s causing it?” You asked and dreaded the answer you know the doctor is about to give you.

“The only answer we have is, the pain isn’t yours to begin with.” The doctor smiled sympathetically. His words hung in the air heavy. Your soulmate. He’s the one in agony, and you were feeling every excruciating second of it.

Carlos hasn’t been feeling the best the last couple of days, he thought he was tired from all the traveling and racing and training. It happens. But the moment he woke up he knew something was wrong, he had Free Practice today, so he just pushed through it. However throughout the day, he’s just been getting worse and worse. By the end of FP2 he knew he couldn’t just push it off, it wasn’t food poisoning, he was starting to burn up.

Carlos with his team went to the hospital so he’d get checked out. He sat hunched over in the waiting room, gripping his side as the pain flared up again, sharper this time. The medics had said it was appendicitis and a routine surgery, nothing major. But that didn’t ease the fear eating at the back of his mind. He’s used to pushing his body through physical discomfort, but never to the point of pain. But this wasn’t the type of pain you ignore.

He could feel the ache spreading and tightening like a vice around his abdomen. His hands were clammy, sweat was gathered on his forehead, and his breath came in shallow, uneven bursts. He’s been through a lot through his life, the crash here and there, the pain of his soulmate breaking a bone, and stubbing her toes and all the random bruises she seems to get randomly. This felt like his body was on fire from the inside out, and it wasn’t just the physical pain that made his chest tighten.

It was her, his soulmate.

As long as he could remember, he had shared pain with you. The worst when you had broken your leg. And he’s grown accustomed to the random flicker of discomfort over the years, wondering what kind of person you are. He imagined you being clumsy, maybe even a bit absent-minded, but he never minded. In fact, it had always made him smile, knowing that somewhere out there, you were living your life and through those little jolts of pain you felt close to him.

But today, he was the one that was causing you pain, pain like you both have never experienced before. That realisation made him nauseous. How much of this were you feeling right now? Were you suffering as much as he was, lying somewhere clutching your side in agony?

Carlos wiped the sweat from his brow and closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the pain. He thought of you, his soulmate.

You walked out of the hospital room, walking slowly. Since the pain you were experiencing isn’t yours, pain meds will do nothing unless your soulmate takes some. You were clutching your side as you walked, not really paying attention, that and being the clumsy person that you are you bumped into someone while you were passing one of the waiting rooms. You stumbled before your knees hit the floor, hard. You winced, the same time someone else did.

“I’m so sorry are you alright?” An accented voice asked, you looked up to see a man with a moustache, he was dressed in red.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You replied instantly and took the man’s hand to stand up. You were unaware of the other Spanish eyes on you.

Carlos shared a look with his dad beside him, Carlos Sr. saw everything happen. He saw you fall and he saw his son wince when you did.

“Pinch yourself.” He muttered to his son, not taking his eyes off you.

“W-what?” Carlos frowned at his father’s words, but he didn’t wait Carlos Sr. pinched his son’s arm and you let out an ‘aw’ and held your arm where he pinched his son.

You frowned, not understanding what was going on with your soulmate.

“Are you hurt?” The man in front of you asked seeing how you held your arm.

“Yeah, soulmate.” He lets out an ‘ah’ in understanding.

Carlos’s eyes went wide when he saw you feel his pain, your hand went back to your side, the same he was holding, and even though he was still in pain he felt relieved, his heart much lighter and he couldn’t help but smile. His dad nudged him with a smile of his own. And Carlos stood up and went to his friend’s side. Gigi was confused why Carlos was coming his way, and why he was smiling when he had to go in for surgery in less than two hours. But he wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at you.

You only noticed him when he came to stand beside the man you bumped into.

“Hi.” Carlos said simply and you frowned confused.

“Hi?” It came out as a question, you looked between the two men in confusion. “I’m sorry but i-“

You were cut off when you groaned as a wave of pain hit you, the same time as the stranger in front of you winced and held his side, the same side you’ve felt the pain. Gigi then knew what happened, and he too couldn’t help but smile, he looked at Carlos Sr. for confirmation and he just gave him a proud nod.

You looked at the new man who was holding his side, your heart skipped a beat. Is he? Could he? This is almost too good to be true. You bit your tongue slightly.

“Why are you biting your tongue?” The smooth voice of your soulmate asked, your eyes went wide, Carlos chuckled at the expression on your face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” This time it was breathless; your eyes didn’t move from his face as you took him in. He also was waring a red shirt, but he also had a hat on top of his head, covering parts of his face but your eyes met his, nonetheless.

“I’m Carlos.” Carlos said and put his hand out for you to shake.

“Y/n.” You said taking his hand, the rush you both felt is unexplainable. You felt warm, your heart was beating faster and you were tingling all over. “It’s really you.”

“It’s me.” Carlos said and you both didn’t let go of each other’s hand.

“Carlos, it’s better you go to your room.” Gigi said, once the nurse told them his room was ready. Carlos nods, but it takes him a few moments to let go of your hand and look away.

“Come on.” Carlos said and he leads you to his room following the nurse. Once the door is closed leaving the both of you alone, you turned to face him once more.

“I never thought I’d meet my soulmate in a hospital of all places.” You said and smiled.

“Really? With how much you like to hit the floor, it was more than likely.” Carlos teased, he took off his hat and ran a hand though his hair, it was so fluffy you wanted to run your hands through it.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You mutter suddenly not meeting his eyes, feeling guilty for all the pain you caused him.

“Hey, I didn’t say I minded.” He said but you still refused to meet his eyes, so he went on. “Every time I felt your pain, I knew you were out there somewhere, living your life and that I wasn’t alone, even if once or twice the timing wasn’t the best, is till cherished it.”

“Really?” You asked meeting his hypnotizing brown eyes.

“Really.” Carlos confirms, his smile is sweet and kind and warm.

“What’s wrong with your appendix?” You ask your hand itching to touch where you know he feels the pain most.

“I have appendicitis, will go into surgery in an hour or so.” Carlos tells you and feels himself riddled with guilt, knowing you felt the pain of his illness. “Why are you here?”

“Came to check if it’s my pain or yours I was feeling.” You could see the guilt eating at him. “I rarely felt pain coming from you, you’ve always been so careful, and here I am falling every day.”

“Guess we balance each other out.” Carlos said and you smiled.

“Guess so… also I discovered I’m born without an appendix.” You suddenly tell him and smile up at him.

“So we’ll match then.” Carlos laughed at the coincidence. You both stayed silent for a long moment, just basking in each other’s presence. “There’s so much I want to ask you.”

“Me too.” You tell him honestly. “Like why are you wearing red? It looks like a uniform, same with the guy I walked into.”

“It kind of is a uniform, it’s team kit, we’re required to wear it.” Carlos says and runs a hand over the back of his neck, he’ll have to explain what he does to you.

“Like a sports thing?” You asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, exactly that.” You mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, and you nod to yourself.

“What sport?”

“Formula 1.” You rack your brain over if you’ve heard of it before, Carlos saw the confused look on your face, he was about to answer your un asked question when someone knocked on the door. He called out for them to enter and in walked his dad and Gigi.

“You have to get ready.” Gigi said and Carlos sighed he was just starting to talk to you, you smiled at him.

“I’ll be here.” You promised and he nods.

“I’ll introduce you then. This is y/n, my soulmate.” He said is so proudly, smiling at you, a smile that you shared. “That’s Poerluigi, known as Gigi and this is my dad Carlos Sr.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you dad was here as well, it’s nice to meet you sir.” You say and go to shake his hand, Sr. smiles and shakes your hand.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Carlos Sr. said with a smile he gave you a quick one-armed hug while your hands were still clasped together. “Carlos has been anxious to meet you lately.”

“Papa.” Carlos Jr. warned his dad, he didn’t want any embarrassing stories to reach you before he even gotten the chance to officially sit and talk to you. Sr. winked at you and you giggled, Carlos gives you both a warning look, before you leave the room so they can prep him for surgery. Meeting your soulmate right before he has to go into surgery isn’t really ideal. The three of you were allowed to wait in his room once Carlos was wheeled out.

“So what exactly does Carlos do?” You asked, and that opened the flood gates. They told you about how Carlos Sr. is a rally driver, all his achievements and how Carlos decided to get into Formula 1, that he’s a driver for Ferrari. They showed you some videos of him on track, deciding not to share anything personal and leave it to Carlos to share and say what he wants to.

You in turn were asked about what you do, your hobbies, why you’re always getting bruised and just random talk. When Carlos is brought back in the room, he’s still unconscious, the doctor informed you that it went well and that he’ll recover in no time. Carlos Sr. went out the room to call his wife and inform her of Carlos’ well-being.

when Carlos wakes up, you’re all kicked out of the room for the doctor to check on him, before you’re allowed back inside. The doctor reconfirms that Carlos is okay and well and that he’ll be able to recover fast. Something he was happy to hear about.

“How are you feeling?” Carlos Sr. asked his son.

“Good.”

“I think the pain meds haven’t worn off yet.” You say, feeling not an ounce of pain through your connection. Carlos smiles at you and you smile back.

“You stayed.”

“Of course, I did.” You say with a pointed look, he’d be stupid if he thought you’re about to leave him when he’s going into surgery, no matter how easy it is.

Gigi takes a picture of both Carlos’s for Instagram, for the fans. He did manage to snap a few of you both, but those were private, for now at least.

“Where are you staying?” Carlos asked and when you gave him your hotel room, he laughed.

“What?”

“You were so close all along.” Carlos says and he smiles thinking about how even if he was okay, you properly would’ve met. “I’m staying there too.”

“Guess fate intended for us to meet one way or the other.” You smile at the thought, you’re mean to be, and you were bound to meet.

Carlos is required to spend the night, and his dad decided to stay with him. Meaning you and Gigi went back to the hotel, and agreed to meet in the morning so you could head back to the hotel together. In all of the rush of things, you forgot to ask Carlos for his number, but Gigi gave you his number for the meet up in the morning.

can you send me Carlos’ number? 😊

Gigi

Sure 😉

You ignore the winky face and save Carlos’ number once you received it.

Stop moving around so much 🤨

Soulmate ❤️

sorry, I can’t find a comfortable spot to sleep

ask the nurses for painkillers if you’re in pain

Soulmate ❤️

I’m alright, it’s not too bad

Do you feel pain? If you want I can take pain killers for you.

no I’m good, it’s alright

I can feel you

Soulmate ❤️

I can’t feel you

do you want me to pinch myself or something?

Soulmate ❤️

No, now the tables are turned.

I guess so

Soulmate ❤️

what?

im sad that you’re the one in pain

That’s my job in the relationship!

Soulmate ❤️

Relationship? 😏

You felt a blush cover your face; you want to cover your cheeks even though he can’t even see you.

I think that’s enough for today

you should go to sleep.

Soulmate ❤️

fine, I’ll let it slide

this time

see you tomorrow, hermosa’

see you tomorrow.

The next morning you meet up with Gigi, who had a bag of clothes for both Carlos’s. the drive to the hospital you spent talking about unimportant things. When you got to the hospital, Carlos Sr. took the bag and went to change, and Gigi excused himself to go get coffee.

“How did you sleep?” Carlos asked you.

“I slept alright, how about you?” You asked glancing to where they did the surgery.

“I slept better than ever, dreaming about you.” You couldn’t fight the blush and turned your head to the side, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. “Don’t hide your face from me.”

Carlos moved so his feet were dangling off the bed, he wanted to walk up to you and pull you in close. He hasn’t been able to hug you yet, and he wants to desperately. Carlos puts his hand out and you walk closer to him, you put your hand in his and he pulls you closer. You’re standing between his legs; Carlos doesn’t wait and wraps his arms around you in a hug. You stand frozen for a moment before you lean into him, your arms much closer around him than his around you. But you lean your head onto on his shoulder.

“I wanted to do that since I saw you.” Carlos mumbles, his voice coming out right next to your ear, making you shiver.

“Only this?” You ask, now that you’re face is hidden, you found the confidence to say that to him.

“If we weren’t here, I’d show you all the things I want to do to you.” Carlos whispers and kisses right under your ear, you close your eyes basking in the feeling of him around you.

“Could have waited until I wasn’t here.” Carlos Sr. says coming out of the attached bathroom. You pull away from Carlos and your blush is back. Carlos only chuckles and rolls his eyes at his father.

Carlos changes and comes out, him and his dad start talking in Spanish, you sip on the coffee Gigi has gotten you checking your notifications on your phone. You look up when you feel the conversation getting a tad bit heated, Carlos is standing in a pair of jeans and his team kit his hat is on the bed.

“Why are you in your team kit?” You ask confused, Carlos Sr. moved his hand in your direction, indicating to his son to tell you what’s going on.

“I’m going to the race today.” Carlos said and you frowned.

“Why? Are they making you go?” You asked seeing no reason for him to be anywhere, but back in the hotel and resting until his flight.

“No, but I want to be there.” Carlos said simply and his dad muttered something under his breath.

“You just got a surgery not even 24 hours ago.” You say standing up.

“I know, but like I told papa, I want to go be there for the team, and I won’t be doing an media or anything, it wouldn’t be different than me staying in the hotel.”

“Doubt it.” Sr. mutters. You think for a moment, not liking this at all.

“Okay, but remember I feel your pain, at the first sign of it we’ll be out of there.” You tell him with a pointed look, daring him to disagree.

“Okay, fine.” Carlos says and Gigi smirks.

“I like this one.”

Both Carlos Sr. and Jr. walked to the motorhome first, and you and Gigi followed after, you had a Ferrari with 55 hat on, your head was done as instructed as you followed the man in front of you. There has been a dull pain in your side as the pain killers wore off, but it wasn’t too bad so you said nothing. Getting to the garage, Gigi sticks to your side and shows you around, Carlos is busy, which isn’t the resting he said he’d do.

Gigi soon introduces you to Alex, Charle’s soulmate, you both talk about your soulmates. Unlike you she knew about Formula 1 before she dated Charles, but her knowledge was limited before that. She was super nice to you, as she explained a few things about the race, she also pointed out where Carlos is in the garage. You may have known him for so little time, but seeing him work, showed you a different side to him. He’s very dedicated and clearly loves what he does.

You find yourself in the back of the garage in a staff only area, it’s like a cafeteria. Carlos was standing to the side eating from a plat in his hand while you talked with Charles and Alex.

Carlos drops his fork on the floor and in a reflex move he bends to pick the fork up. Your side suddenly flares up and you gasp clutching your side. Both Charles and Alex look at you in concern.

“It’s Carlos.” You tell them and move to get to your soulmate, when your clumsy self decides to hit the side of a table with your hip making you stumble and now hold your hip. Carlos curses and he moves to get to you only ending up hunched over from the strain he puts to his side.

“You both, need to stop moving!” Carlos Sr. says and goes to see Carlos and make sure he hasn’t popped a stitch or something. Charles and Alex were at your side pulling you up.

“You are clumsy.” Charles says with a teasing smile, and Alex hits his shoulder, giving herself the same pain, but it makes him stop.

“Made for each other you two.” Carlos Sr. says and you and Carlos meet eyes, you both smile and chuckle, this recovery is going to be harder than you both expected.

It took you two weeks to allow Carlos to do any kind of kissing, and still, you stayed away from his side when you did. Carlos had you in his home to get to know you while he was in between races. He just came back from a race that he won, first winner of the season, that isn’t Max. it took more than usual out of him, which was understandable. But now that he was cleared to race, here you were on his bed, him leaning on the headboard and you in his lap, kissing. I never felt this good. Every bite ever suck was felt by the two of you. It left you gasping and moaning for more. Both your lips are puffy and bruised, Carlos moves his lips to your neck in wet kisses before he finds your sweet spot that had you moving over him. He groans and starts sucking, so lost in the moment.

The next day you wake up first and head to the bathroom for a quick shower, Carlos hears the water and wakes up. He walks in the bathroom and stops when he sees himself in the mirror, he lets out a curse. You poke your head out hearing him curse.

“What’s wrong?” You ask and he turns to show you his neck, you burst out laughing. “

“But it looks good on you.” Carlos almost whined and you couldn’t help but continue laughing.

“Well did you come into here to stare at yourself in the mirror, or?” You asked raising an eyebrow before turning and getting back under the shower head. Carlos forgets all about the hickeys covering his neck, collarbones and chest. He did a number on you last night.

Let’s just say it was easier for you to cover them than Carlos. The next race, the fans spotted them fast.

“Looks like you had a fun night.” Jensen commented while interviewing Carlos with a knowing smirks on his face. “Wild girl?”

“Uh no, I wouldn’t sag that. I did them myself.” Carlos admitted his face warming up a bit. You watched the interview from the sides, your neckline and hair covering up all the bruises he left on you.

“Did them yours- oh, oh, congratulations, mate.” Jensen bro hugged Carlos, realising what he meant. “We all had to learn where to stop.”

You rolled your eyes bit still smiled, Carlos already knew where to stop, evident by the fact that more bruises ended right under his neckline.

It was all just a time thing, with your clumsiness and Carlos’s love of kissing. But your identical bruises caught on cameras, as well as you hitting something and Carlos reacting was a sign enough for everyone that you’re his soulmate.

Main Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life .

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 1 month ago

Note

Had a thought: reader has a hand-print bruise on their arm — like they stumbled and were caught or pulled out of the way of a curse or smth and the helper accidentally left a bruise when they grabbed reader. Jjk men see it b4 reader can / thinks to tell them so they just see a clearly-handprint bruise with zero context 🙃

Hand Print

Tags: Drabble, Fluff, JJK men getting angry, JJK men getting protective 🫦, smut (Suguru’s, Choso’s, and kinda Sukuna’s), dark content on Mahito’s, mdni

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Toji, Sukuna, Mahito

SATORU

You had forgotten it even happened. Silly, clumsy you — nearly falling while exiting the subway onto the station platform. Thankfully, that good samaritan was right behind you.

His hand clasped onto your upper arm tightly as he pulled you back up to your feet to find your balance. You didn’t even give it much thought-! You thanked him and went on about your day.

Satoru’s six eyes can immediately spot the bruise before you’ve even taken off your coat after getting home.

“Baby —“ Satoru’s voice was bone chilling when he spoke. He’s normally got such a happy tone, but when he uses that baritone that comes out during fights, you’re frozen out of fear.

“Wha..?” You weren’t even able to get your words out before Satoru has your arm up in the air. His eyes wandering over the bruise that was wrapped around your upper arm.

“Who the fuck touched you?” His heart is slamming into his ribcage. He doesn’t know what happened, but he knew enough. You were hurt, and he wasn’t there to protect you.

He wishes he could extend his infinity out to you at all times, but even he has limits unfortunately.

“Satoru- My arm-“ You whine while your lofty boyfriend with his abnormally long limbs is nearly holding you up by your wrist. You looked pitiful — dangling from his grip.

“Who.” He demands again, and those stormy blue eyes meet yours. His mind is racing — thinking of who he’s going to kill. Will he snuff them out like a cigarette with his infinity? Or maybe he blow a whole in them with hollow purple. Maybe he could figure out a new technique to rip them in half on an atomic level.

“It was an accident!” You cry as you try to pull your arm aways from his unrelenting grip. “I was about to fall off the subway, and this guy grabbed me so I didn’t fall and break my neck.”

Satoru’s face stays cold, and his eyes look back at the obvious handprint bruise on your arm. Judging by the way it’s awkwardly positioned, he knows you’re telling the truth.

“Oh! Well baby, why didn’t you just say that?” Your entirely too happy boyfriend is immediately back with a coy grin as if he wasn’t just fantasizing about murder. “You got to be more careful when getting off the subway, silly goose.” His finger lightly thump you on the forehead.

SUGURU

You’ve always been so clumsy your entire life: tripping over your own feet, bumping into the corners of tables and walls, accidentally stubbing your toe, the list goes on…

You were racing down the broken escalator at the mall to try to get to your favorite store before it closed for the day. You were just so focused on getting to your destination that you weren’t paying attention to ahead of you.

You barrel straight into this guy who miraculously grabs onto you and the railing before both of you take a nasty fall. The two of you pant in each other’s arms for just a moment before you’re backing away — professing your deepest apologies for not being more careful. The guy just awkwardly smiles and waves you on, knowing you were probably trying to get to a specific store.

You didn’t even think about the little incident afterwards. You have so many “near misses” in a day that you just completely black them out.

Suguru’s lips are clasped to your neck, giving you sloppy kisses right on the sweet spot of your neck.

“Fuuuck, pretty girl… can never get tired of this pussy.” He groans softly into your ear. Both of you are so lost in each other, feeling your essences mix with each time his massive cock slips into your clammy entrance. You’re practically sucking him in at this point — greedyyy.

“Sugu- Ah~!” You’re breathy as your hand reaches up to clasp the pillow behind you. The way your pussy flutters around him as you’re nth orgasm is about to take over has him nearly seeing stars.

Nearly.

His eyes normally focus on you while he fucks you until you’re nothing more than a puddle in his arms, but right now, that damn bruise has his attention.

“What fucking monkey touched you?” He asks in a low growl before he’s pinning both your arms above your head. He slips his cock out of you — eliciting a frustrated whine from edging you.

His eyes are too busy scoping out the rest of your body. How did he miss the fresh bruise that was so blatantly displayed on your arm.

“Sugu..” You whine — still mindless and cockdrunk. Your thighs part as you try to seduce him back between your legs.

“Hey.” He snaps his fingers in front of your eyes. “I need my girlfriend right now — not my slut. Who touched you?”

“What are you talkin’ about?” You lazily whine as you look over towards your arm, and you think for a moment of how the bruise must’ve gotten there..

“Which fucking monkey touched you?” He grits again. His temper is only building. How were you unable to remember who touched you?

“Hmm.. oh! I was running down those broken escalators at the mall, and I nearly sent me and this guy down the entire flight. Thankfully, he was able to grab us both.” You’re finally able to recount the memory to Geto.

Your poor stressed boyfriend pinches the bridge of his nose. He instantly knows that you’re telling the truth because this is just so damn like you.

“What have I told you about being aware of your surroundings? Now you’re going to make me have to punish you.”

Great! Now you’re not getting to finish at all tonight! :(

NANAMI

It was another normal Sunday evening in your home. The lights were turned down low, and the curtains were drawn so the golden hour sun could pool into the kitchen and dining room. You and Ken were listening to your playlist while cooking dinner together.

Cooking dinner with Nanami wasn’t like some normal, ordinary task. Cooking with him was almost as intimate as having sex with him — the way his hands so carefully massaged into your hips. Your back was pressed flush against his toned chest, and his chin was either resting on yours or resting on your shoulder.

He wasn’t dead weight either. Nanami could cook his ass off. You were the one who needed the extra help, so right now, Nanami was guiding your hands on how to perfectly and evenly chop zucchini.

His eyes grazed over your hands, taking in your form to see if he needed to correct you in any way. That’s when he saw the bruise peaking out from underneath your shirt sleeve.

Nanami’s hand is quick, and he swiftly disarms you so you don’t accidentally cut yourself before he tugs your arm sleeve. His usually calm face slowly twisted into a scowl.

“Who did that to you?” He asks lowly with an intimidating glare. Of course, he’s not mad at you, but he is mad that someone touched his wife.

“What…?” You ask with a small pout, not knowing what he was talking about in the slightest. You had clearly forgotten about that nice stranger who pulled you back onto the sidewalk when a car decided to ignore the pedestrian walking symbol. They had saved your life.

“The name of the person who grabbed you.” Nanami demands as he gestures to your marked up wrist. “Now.”

“I- wait, Ken… That’s not what it looks like…” You try to explain with a small frown.

“Then please, do tell me what it is before I go find them for myself.”

When you explained to him that the person who grabbed you actually saved you from severe injury, Nanami let out a sigh — partially of relief and partially of stress.

He brings your wrist up to his mouth before he places light kisses around the bruise. “You have to be more careful, darling… I need you here with me.”

CHOSO

Yuji was the one to grab you harshly and pull you back, creating that nasty bruise on your arm. He really didn’t mean to grab you so hard!! He just forgets his superhuman strength sometimes.

You were about to run into someone while at the school. Yuji was just trying to be a good brother-in-law and protect you. He was nearly in tears when he saw the huge handprint on your arm.

“Please don’t tell Choso. He’ll kill me if he finds out! Please! Say you swear!” He pleads as he clasps his hands together and grovels at your feet.

You tried reassuring him that his brother wasn’t going to kill him, but Yuji wouldn’t rest until you promised not to tell.

“Hi baby.” Choso greets you as usual, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple as he casually strolls towards the bathroom to shower. He’s glistening with sweat from training with Yuki and Todo all day.

“Mm! Wait for me!” You call out, trailing behind him like a horny dog (it’s okay girl me too). Choso happily waits for you in the shower. His dark hair comes down to his shoulders as he lets his hair down and steps into the hot water, immediately rinsing his body of the filth and grime.

“Missed you, baby.” He hums as he slowly corners you against the shower wall. His hand gently cups your chin to press a passionate kiss to your lips.

You softly giggle as you feel something already poking at your leg. “So sensitive~” You tease as you go to wrap your hand around his length.

Choso quickly grabs your arm, going to pin it above your head. He wanted to touch you first. You’re always taking care of him. He wanted to return the favor.

When you softly hiss in response due to him pressing on your bruise, he freezes. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No- no, you did nothing.” You try to reassure him with a wave of your hands. Your bruise catches his eye.

“Did I- Did I do that?” He immediately asks as he takes your arm and cradles it gently into his oversized hands. His face slowly shifts to a guilty pout.

Your eyes widen as you realize your poor boyfriend doesn’t understand the concept of human bruising. He truly thinks he grabbed you so hard that your skin immediately started to bruise.

“No, nonono, baby, you didn’t do that. ‘s okay.” You go to reassure him, gently holding your hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb over the small tattoos under his eyes.

“Then… who did?” His voice shifts to a less panicked one, and his gaze hardens slightly.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize just how quickly he can turn on that more dominant, powerful side of him. “Uh.. well.. it was an accident.. We shouldn’t go on a witch hunt or anything like that…”

“Right. Who grabbed you so hard that they left a mark on you?” He doesn’t relent, towering over you with such an unamused gaze. His eyes are angry while staring at you.

“You have to promise me you won’t hurt him, Cho. It was really an accident. He was trying to save me.”

Choso stays quiet. He’s learned not to make promises that he can’t keep, and all of his thoughts are about how he was going to hurt this mysterious guy who laid a hand on you.

“Choso… It was Yuji. He was trying to keep me from running into somebody! He didn’t mean to hurt me-“

Your boyfriend’s face shifts to one of surprise. He didn’t expect Yuji to be the culprit of the bruise on your arm. His eyes flick over to the bruise, and he lets out a hefty sigh.

“Sometimes… older brothers have to be the one to teach hard lessons…”

“Choso, it was an accident.”

TOJI

“Mmm.. shit…” Toji hums before he goes in for another bite. You watch him with a playful gaze. He always gets so hungry after a completed hit, and when the job takes more than one day, he misses your cooking almost as much as he misses you.

“Toji, slow down. No one’s going to take your food from you.” You gently chide with a laugh. Little three-year-old Megumi is in his high chair, eating like an animal because he’s mimicking daddy.

You’re happy that your husband appreciates your cooking because you did nearly die while trying to get the ingredients to make this stupid dinner.

You were in the parking lot of the grocery store with Megumi in your arms, and while walking towards the store’s entrance, a car nearly backed over you and the small child in your arms.

Thankfully, a stranger was behind you, and he was fast enough to yank you and Megumi back away from the car. It was honestly a miracle that you and Megumi made it completely unscathed.

Well, almost unscathed. You did have a pretty nasty bruise on your hip where the stranger grabbed you with such strength.

“Look at what kind of table manners you’re teaching your son.” You continue on while wiping Megumi’s face clean with a baby wipe. The small child whines and tries to break free from your grasp.

“Can’t help it, doll. Your cooking’s too good.” Toji finally lifts his head up from his plate, and with almost lazer focus, he immediately notices the bruise on your hip due to your shirt hiking up a bit since you’re bent over dealing with Megumi.

“What the fuck happened?” He immediately asks, gesturing his fork towards the bruise on your hip. “Did some fuck touch you?”

You look at him with a hint of confusion for a second, but as soon as you look down and see the bruise, you immediately remember the event that transpired earlier today.

“I-“

You don’t even get the next word out before Toji’s on you, lifting your shirt up to see the perfectly drawn out handprint bruised into your pretty skin. The scar on his lips twitch in frustration, and your heart begins to stutter — understanding exactly what it looks like.

“Toji-“

“What the fuck happened?” His voice is a low grumble as he eyes you closely. He’s itching to hear a name — someone to kill for touching you like that. Only he gets to touch you there.

Your words are choked up in your throat, misunderstanding Toji’s possessiveness for anger towards you. You can’t even think of what to say before your son speaks up for you.

“Mama and I saved by a man!” Megumi shouts, looking up at his dad, even your toddler understood the gravity of the situation.

“Saved?” Toji questions as he shifts his gaze over to Megumi with a raised eyebrow — still angry but albeit a little amused.

“Yeah! Car almost hit mama and me! The man grabbed us to save us.” Your toddler explains it as if it’s a fond memory for him.

Your eyes meet Toji’s, and you nod your head slightly, agreeing with your son. “I was going into the market, and a car nearly backed over Megumi and I. The guy grabbed us up before it completely hit us.”

Toji takes a big breath, and his large palm finds the back of your head, guiding you to lie on his chest for moment. He just needs to he close to you after the gymnastics his brain just did.

“Christ, mama. Don’t worry me like that.” He mumbles lowly before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

“Daddy, ew! Gross!”

SUKUNA

It was time for nightly worship for you and the other concubines, except here recently, it’s only been you attending nightly worship. The concubines had been dropping like flies recently… like actually dropping dead.

Why would Sukuna need concubines when you were already his most devout follower? Not to mention, he immediately made up his mind once he felt your precious cunt for the first time — so fucking tight and wet, begging to be bred by him — he didn’t need anyone else. You were the solution to all of his problems. Hell, he might even give you his heir one day.

He was sat in his throne with a mere red and black silk robe covering his monstrous body. One of his hands was occupied with a chalice of… well, you don’t really want to know what he was sipping on.

His other oversized hand was tenderly resting on your head. His palm was as big as your head, covering the crown completely, while you had your chin propped up on his thigh — on your knees in front of him. This was his favorite sight. He could really appreciate your beauty when the other concubines weren’t making so much racket. It was the right decision to have them disposed of.

You’re so pliant with your head in his lap. He finds it amusing how comfortable you look before him — as if he isn’t the literal incarnate of evil. He almost finds you adorable like a small kitten.

“What are you thinking about, woman?” He asks, surprisingly breaking the silence between you two. He’s the type of man to value the quiet, and he hates small talk, but he can’t help but want to hear your voice.

“Hm?” You hum lazily, being broken out of your daydream. Your eyes meet his as you look up at him. “I’m just thinking about bedtime… It’s been an eventful day.” You answer softly before a yawn escapes you, earning a small snicker from Sukuna.

“You shall retire in my chambers tonight. Go dispose of your clothes and slip between the sheets. I’ll be in there in just a moment.” He pats your head, signaling you may get up now.

Scurrying off to Sukuna’s chambers, the King of Curses narrows his eyes. He could’ve swore he just saw a bruise on you, and it’s definitely not one that he left…

Once he was inside his chambers, his eyes rested upon your small, frail body. You looked so cute, curled up in his massive bed. He slips his robe off, revealing his sculpted body. He looks like more than a king. He’s no less than a god.

Slipping between the sheets so he can finally feel your flesh against his, Sukuna can’t help but check. One of his hands captures your arm, and he looks at it. A deep scowl forms on his face as he sees the mark of another on you.

“What fool dared to touch you?” He demands, blood pressure already rising.

“What-?” You ask a bit confused, but you’re quickly reminded when Sukuna presses down on the bruise, making it worse. He’s sick in the head, thinking that if he can’t remove the bruise from you, he’ll just make his own mark right on top of it-

“Ow-! Kuna-!” You whine as his thumb presses down firmer. “Why are you- oww! please! I’m sorry, my lord! The gardener was just trying to save me from tripping and falling-“

His hand releases. “The gardener, huh?” He muses before making a few hand symbols. You’ll never see that gardener again. He should’ve known better than you touch you. You watch Sukuna with a slightly fearful look, and Sukuna feels his stomach twist with detest.

“Don’t look at me like that. It displeases me.” He frowns when he notes your fear does not simply vanish. Releasing a tense breath, he carefully brings your arm up to his mouth, and he presses a gentle kiss to the darkening bruise on your arm. “I had to make my own mark. I forget how fragile you mortals are… I… apologize.”

MAHITO

His eyes were wide and filled with utter rage as he saw the bruise displayed on your arm. He didn’t know how to cope with these new… emotions. Mahito didn’t believe he could feel a thing such as jealousy until you came around, his pretty pet. you just didn’t know it yet.

His foot was tapping violently against the ground as he tried to think of a way to bring it up casually in front of the others. He didn’t need Kenjaku on his case again for “falling for you”… whatever that fucking meant.

“Did you have a run in with the sorcerers, pet?” He finally asks as you and Jogo are playing Mahjong.

You look down at your arm at the blue and purple bruise that was welping up on your skin, and you nod your head at Mahito’s question.

“One of them got me good… He barely touched me though, so it caught me off guard.” You finally respond, and Mahito feels his very soul light on fire. Another man dared to touch you? You? His pet?? Even worse, it was a sorcerer.

“Did you kill him?” Mahito asks as he has to place his hands underneath his thighs to keep from reaching out to grab you up. Last time he did that, Kenjaku threatened to swallow him up like an uzumaki, but he can’t help it. He constantly feels an overwhelming urge to just touch you. If he could, he’d merge your soul with his so you’d be bound to him for life.

“No… he got away before I could finish the job.” You pout as you place your next tile down on the playing board.

“What did he look like?” Mahito’s heart starts to race. The thought of killing the guy who dared to touch you is intoxicating. He wants to hear the man cry and beg for mercy. He wants to coat himself in the man’s blood then fuck you until you cry.

“Oh, um, he had pink fluffy hair, and a jujutsu tech uniform on with red sneakers.”

“You ran into Sukuna’s vessel, Yuji Itadori???” Kenjaku perks up from the newspaper he was reading, and he immediately stomps over to you, needing more information.

“Yuji Itadori…. I’ll kill him.” Mahito mumbles to himself before breaking out in a small laugh. The thought of it— it’s so euphoric.

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