😳😳😳

Blue Moon

Summary: A series of occasions when the JJK sorcerers required your comforting embrace ...

(x Reader)

Featuring: Gojo, Kusakabe, Nanami and Ijichi.

Genre: Fluff, romance, humour.

CW: Suggestive language.

Gojo

"On a scale of 10 to 11, how blue do my eyes look this morning?"

"Satoru, what do you want?"

One arm raised, elbow crooked in nonchalant allure against the doorframe, Satoru blinks in feigned innocence. He shifts such that the torso-hugging shirt he has on slides against each defined line of his pectorals.

"I just wanna know. It's nice to hear how handsome I am, from time to time."

"Seriously?"

He cradles his chin between thumb and forefinger.

"I mean, my jawline alone can cut diamonds - "

"Come here."

He grins, having conveyed his message clearly, if a tad ham-handedly. Elbow dropping from the doorframe, he steps into the bedroom, his tall frame stooping until his nose is level with yours.

If you intended to initiate anything at all, you can shelve that idea. Satoru's arms are already sliding around your waist, drawing you impossibly close. His face drops to your shoulder, blowing a playful puff of air against you before he presses into the crook of your neck.

He feels solid in your arms, present. A cloud of pale hair, silky and fragrant, drifts across your vision. The scent of him is warm, vital, alive. You trace gently across the contours of his back before your embrace finally encloses him, feeling his exhale blow heatedly against your skin.

These are the rare occasions when he seeks you out for reassurance under the guise of mischievous ribbing, when he grounds himself in the staid, reliable nature of your presence, when he needs you.

Slowly parting from him, you glance up at the slightly muted brilliance of his glance, the softness that hovers at the edges of that almost ethereal countenance.

"Ready for work?"

"I am now."

You pat him solidly in the middle of his chest, resting your palm there for a minute before pushing him towards the door. The residual humidity of his breath lingers on your throat.

"Now hurry up and go, before I get sliced with that lethal jawline."

Kusakabe

"And then I said, why the heck can't we just take the safe route, not track through the fucking woods in pitch darkness, with a hurricane lamp that could attract every goddamn curse in the region - "

Atsuya cuts off, the scrape of the blade through the lather on his chin punctuating each point he deemed significant.

" - but of course, they didn't wanna hear it. "That's what sorcerers do, they take the dark path." Ha. They can take that poetic allegory shit and shove it."

You complete the task of drying yourself, fingers tracing lightly over the muscled wall of his back as you pass him, reaching for the hairdryer plugged into the wall just outside.

"Were there any injuries?"

"Miwa got a few scratches, but nothing serious."

He rinses off the blade, white foam circling around the drain of the sink before raising his arm again, skin appearing through the curtain of white on the sharp edges of his cheek.

"I told those kids before, you can't rely on anyone else. In a sticky situation, you gotta analyse the environment, know your opponent, observe their abilities, think and act at the same time - "

The noise of the hairdryer temporarily drowns out his voice, and he turns slightly as he sees your smile. You reach for him with your free arm, hair blowing across your face, and he grunts in amusement.

"I've still got shaving cream all over - "

"And when has that ever stopped you?"

No further convincing is needed because Atsuya's bare chest is now against your back, his arms coming up and around your middle, strong fingers linking securely over your abdomen. The coarse scattering of hair across his torso tickles between your shoulder blades. The heat of him is intoxicating, as always.

You squirm slightly in his grasp as the cool shaving cream smears across your shoulder, where he rests his chin, the dim light of the bathroom temporarily shading the green of his eyes to a subtle olive. Prickles of stubble, tender as the new growth of shoots in spring, sink into your still-damp skin.

You turn off the hairdryer, for now. You can't help yourself when your Atsuya is this close, the clean, warm scent of him wrapping around you, infinitely soft. You press your lips in a trail across his cheek, watching as his eyes close, as the rigidity of his powerful shoulders ease under your ministrations.

Drawing away, you see his eyes flick sideways at you, and you can feel the laugh that reverberates like low thunder through his chest. Your face is smeared with white.

"If you wanted to shave too, you should have just said so."

"What if I said I borrowed one of your shaving blades for my legs?"

"No wonder they're so silky smooth."

"Not as smooth as that tongue of yours."

"And you're the first person who's ever thought so."

Nanami

Kento had been pristine, as always, when he'd left home. You'd seen his clothes prepared the previous day, the suit and shirt hung neatly against the closet, socks laid aside, shoes polished to high shine.

You'd watched him comb back his hair that morning, your fingers gently caressing his undercut as you'd made your way to the kitchen to deal with breakfast. You'd watched the small smile curve the corner of his mouth as he'd fastened his watch in place.

Orderly and somewhat fastidious, was your Kento, punctual to a fault, even in the way he kissed you at exactly 8 am at the door, the Jujutsu Tech vehicle waiting outside to swallow him into its cool, dim interior.

His lips had lingered softly on yours, as always, stealing moments from the impatient clock on the wall behind you. You'd straightened his tie, one palm smoothing the slightly hollowed cheek (which had filled out a little recently with your cooking) and then you'd stepped back and treasured the softening of his eyes before the glasses were placed firmly on the bridge of his nose.

So, it was with a sense of growing concern that you watched the same clock that had governed your separation that morning. He was three hours late, and counting. He'd managed to send a brief message earlier that day, that things were gearing up to be a little troublesome. Still, you worried.

You always had.

At 10 pm, the sound of the key slotting into the latch heralds his return. Kento pushes the door open, a heavy sigh reaching your ears as you approach.

He is no longer pristine.

His hair hangs down to his eyes, greasy and disshevelled, the tie nowhere to be seen. His shirt is stained and crusted with darker patches under the arms and across his chest and back. His pants are ripped and you see the bandages beneath where he must have received treatment already. His tired eyes meet yours, and you hold out your arms to him. A soft laugh sounds against the noise of the pot bubbling on the stove.

"I'm filthy. And covered in - "

"Do you see me complaining? No more questions, love."

He grumbles good naturedly, but you know that he not-so-secretly loves it when you take charge at home.

In one stride, he is within the welcoming bracket of your arms, head drooping tiredly against the softness of your chest. He is tall enough that the position is slightly awkward, but he has anchored himself to you for support, and you brace your knees as you take his weight.

He smells of sweat, dirt and something damp and unpleasant that reminds you distinctly of a sewer. You smile and bury your nose into his hair, the unique, masculine scent of him, of Kento, now cutting through the other distractions.

You hold him like this, cradling his head close, whispering soft endearments meant only for his ears, until the stretch in his spine wears him out. He rouses from your embrace, eyes puffy and a trifle unfocused. Long lashes brush slowly together and he yawns.

"Had a good rest there?"

His voice rumbles delightfully through your frame where you are still pressed together, mellow and slightly slurred within the familiarity of these walls.

"A most peaceful one."

You tap the area where his head had been a few moments ago.

"Would you like to rent this space out, sir? It's available, every evening after five."

There it is, that quiet, mischievous smile, the one that spreads tender crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

"Only after I've inspected it thoroughly, ma'am."

Ijichi

You pause in the doorway. Kiyotaka is pacing the courtyard outside, phone balanced between shoulder and ear. He flips aggravatedly through the folder in his hands.

"Yes, yes, I understand - No - I will - Listen, please. Yes, company cars are expensive, I know better than anyone. However, forcing a trainee to shoulder the full burden of compensation just because he - "

He notices you, out of the corner of his eye. You wave to him and gesture to the files in your hand. He gives a harried nod before a frown marrs his brow.

"No, no, I don't think the fact that he saw a spirit and screamed like a little girl, as you put it, affects his level of accountability in any way. Our policy states that - "

In two quick paces, you reach him, snatching the phone out of his hand. Barking sharply at the person on the other end, you complete his statement.

"Our policy clearly indicates that trainees are exempt from damages incurred during any coursework. And that includes driving. Goodbye."

Ending the call, you huff out an annoyed breath before handing the phone gently back to him. He sighs and you see his glance hover sideways, alighting on the files you're holding. You dismiss his concerns with a wave of your hand.

"Oh, these can wait. Don't worry. How about we go in and have some coffee?"

"Actually ..."

"Yes?"

"I'dratherhaveahug."

"Pardon?"

"I'd ... rather have a hug."

"Oh!"

Your eyes widen slightly as you drop the files haphazardly on a nearby bench. Ijichi eyes them worriedly. 

"Wait, what if the wind - "

"Then we'll say Fushiguro's dogs ate them."

"Eh?"

You laugh at his bewildered expression before tugging lightly on his tie, drawing him close. A flush steals over his cheeks, as you lean in and brush your nose against his, fingers slipping from the tie to the surprisingly strong line of his shoulders.

"Here's the hug you ordered."

"W - Well, yes, but let's be - "

He cuts off as you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, one hand sliding stealthily under his coat to caress his back. You feel his Adam's apple bob as he returns the gesture, relaxing slightly into the embrace as his breathing evens out, stirring your hair slightly.

You both stay this way for some time, as the wind whistles in the corners between the statues all around you, mercifully leaving the files intact. You lean back and are about to release him when his hand clasps firmly on the small of your back, and he dips you, smiling as your delighted laugh echoes within the enclosed yard.

As he draws you back up into a brief kiss, you marvel at his sudden bravery. But then again, this is what you love most about Kiyotaka. As shy, anxious, stressed and fatigued as he is (mostly), there was a side to him that always warmed you pleasantly when your thoughts drifted to him.

He was the man who brought you regional treats from wherever his job happened to take him, who made sure that you were safe at all hours of the day, who would pursue you with an umbrella when you'd forgotten yours, who ensured that you'd eaten on time, even when he was swamped with work.

As you separate, you see that in spite of his daring, debeonair action, his ears have turned a startling shade of scarlet. You pinch one of them lightly and smirk.

"Looks like you've been eating spicy food again."

He clears his throat.

"The only spicy thing I've consumed is ... you."

Slapping a hand against your chest in feigned shock, you gasp theatrically.

"Why, Kiyotaka! How positively scandalous!"

A rare grin crosses his tired features.

"If you really want to see scandalous, you should have a look at Yaga's internet search history."

You promised!

Summary: Reuniting with someone from the past. It doesn't go as planned.

Pairing: Logan x G!N Reader (platonic) x Deadpool x G!N Reader (Platonic)

Warning: Smoking, language, death, death threats, Angst

maybe some bad grammar and wrong punctuation.

(sorry if Deadpool isn't funny enough)

That night still haunts you, the screams echo in your ears, and the pile of your friends' dead bodies that you had to dig your way out of still makes your skin crawl. Fortunately, your ability to summon/ commune with the dead also gave you the power of immortality. 

You did everything you could to help but you were just a kid…your heart racing trying to find the one person who you thought could protect you…your kitten. Of course, he would rather be at a stupid bar than wear the stupid yellow spandex. When he came stumbling back where he found you covered in ash crying. Sadness turned into spite, how could he leave you? He promised to keep you safe! 

You couldn’t stand the sight of him…so you ran. That was the last time you saw Logan..or so you thought.

You tried to use your powers to conjure your friend's spirits but you couldn’t.

Years passed, and you lived a normal life. Until some weirdo with outdated references wearing a red spandex suit was in your apartment building lobby. He cut you off at the stairs spreading both his arms out so you couldn’t walk around him “Well hello pookie” The weirdo welcomed you as you glared at him “Do I know you?” You muttered, reaching into your messenger bag to grab something that could be used as a weapon. You were in no mood for what this ass has to say. The weirdo stood more relaxed “I’m Deadpool aka Marvel Jesus” the Spandex introduced, you raised an eyebrow “What? Marvel Jesus? What the fuck?” you wondered making Deadpool gasp at you “Oh just spit in my face! Did my peanut teach you that?! You’re too young to be speaking like a drunken sailor” Deadpool declared, clenching his nonexistent pearls. You wondered why he acted like you knew his peanut? If his friends were half as annoying as him then you doubt that you knew them.

Deadpool booped your nose making you swat his hand “My, my aren’t you a violent child” Deadpool teased, if he kept doing this Applebee's comedy night routine you were gonna need a joint. You dug through your bag, grabbed a joint from the container you kept, and lit the one in your hand. “I need your help saving the multiverse from this asshole named Paradox which is the stupidest name ever!” Deadpool announced, and you raised an eyebrow “The multiverse?” You repeated in disbelief that what this man was saying was true. You blew a cloud of smoke into Deadpool’s masked face, “as much as I would like to inhale secondhand smoke” the comedic took the joint out of your hand “I’m gonna need you to be sharp” Deadpool explained pressing the lit part of the joint on the no smoking sign. You crossed your arms “to save the multiverse?” You laughed, at this point you were expecting that you were on a prank channel.

Deadpool's whole demeanor changed “The point cupcake, is that everyone I care about will die if we don’t stop that asshole Paradox.” Deadpool was serious, there was no funny tone in it. You released a heavy sigh, ever since the fire you were done with all that heroic shit “Why me?” You wondered, he could have picked an actual crime fighter “Why you?! You’re Y/N! You were a part of Baldilock's merry band” Deadpool reminded you. The memories of when you were an X-men in training that you tried so hard to forget came rushing back, you tilt your head your eyes threw daggers at the dickhead in front of you who the fuck did he think he was making a joke about your friends.

You scoffed “it’s Deadpool, right?” You asked clenching your fists, the jackass got all giddy “Oh my god! Y/N remembers my name!” The mercenary exclaimed as if he was meeting Hugh Jackman. You grabbed him by his chest and pulled him towards you till you were inches apart “Get out of my way or I’m going to ram your head through a damn wall” you threatened beneath your breath.

Deadpool didn’t look intimidated, he looked over his shoulder “I can see why you like her, Peanut!” Deadpool yelled as if that was a queue. You heard footsteps coming down the stairs, you released the mercenary from your grip “You can thank Marvel H. Christ later” Deadpool patted you on the back before standing in front of the door that leads into the streets. Your heart sank into your stomach, Did this guy want you so badly that he brought someone with him to rough you up?!

The backup descended the stairs, and when his face came into view you froze, Your eyes glossed no, not him…anyone but him. You hoped this was just a nightmare, you kept pinching yourself hoping you would wake up in your apartment…but nothing happened, he was here.

 Logan gave you a warm smile “Hi, bub” he took a small step towards you, but you took a step back “Don’t!...don’t call me that!” your voice muttered, why would he think that it would be okay for him to call you that?! “Bu-kid, we need your help” Logan begged in a hushed tone like you were going to agree because the alcoholic asked nicely. You started to laugh “You…think…I’ll go…anywhere… with you?” You asked in between, you had to hold your stomach because you were laughing so hard. Deadpool took a step towards you two “Hi, sorry to interrupt but I’m kinda on a time crunch so can we-“ “Shut the fuck up!” You and Logan yelled in unison, Deadpool stepped back.

You looked back at Logan ”Y/N I’m so sorry” Logan apologized, you glared at him “That’s it?! That’s all you can say?! You went to get fucked up instead of being there…and all you can say is your sorry?!” You scoffed; it was like putting a band-aid over a bullet wound. It does nothing. You felt all the old feelings you tried to suppress seep through “I know and I’ll hate myself for that for my entire life” Logan admitted, you shook your head pinching the bridge of your nose to contain your emotions, trying not to cause a scene that would get the neighbors attention, “I can’t do this” you mumbled re-adjusting your messenger bag on your shoulder. 

Your eyes glossed as you tried to make it to the stairs but Logan blocked your path “Logan, please just step to the side. I don’t want to do this” Your voice cracked

“I can’t do that, Y/N”

“Just please move”

“I can’t kid” 

“Please move Logan”

“Bub, Please!”

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!”

Tears started to run down your cheeks your fist pounded against Logan's chest “Move” you weakly repeated, he didn’t budge or fight back. You felt as powerless as you did the night of the fire. You felt like you were one big joke to the universe.

 Logan tried to wrap his arms around you but you pushed yourself away from him, “Y/N” Logan called, you didn’t let him say more of his half-ass apology “Why weren’t you there?” you wondered crossing your arms over your chest, you remembered that he went to the bar but you wanted him to admit it. The man in front of you never answered, your eyes glossed “Why weren’t you there?! I needed you and you weren’t fucking there! You promised me that you would protect me! I trusted you! I looked up to you! You were my hero!” You admitted wrapping your arms around yourself as tears ran down your cheeks once again. Logan looked like he was on the verge of tears himself “I’m sorry, I’m here now” Logan promised, You shook your head “I don’t need you now! I needed you back then! Where were you…when I needed you?” You stated you noticed some people were opening their doors. 

Your eyes met Logan “I hate you” you sniffled, and Logan's lip quivered “I wish you would kill yourself, you would be doing me and everyone else in this world a fucking favor” Your tone was emotionless, Logan was taken back even Deadpool was speechless. You were emotionally drained, this time you successfully pushed past Logan and ran upstairs to your apartment.

You slammed the door Bang! You threw your bag on the ground and jumped into your bed shoving your face into your pillow to muffle your cries. You hate him. You hated that you trusted him. You wished you never met him. 

Back in the Lobby

Logan kept staring at the stairs silently hoping that you were going to come back down, hoping that you had a change of heart and the two of you could start over, a single tear escaped down his cheek. 

Wade stepped towards the Wolverine, “Why didn’t you tell her that those sons of bitches could fix your shit?” the mercenary wondered, Logan wiped away his tear before looking at that red fucker “They’ve been through so much…I didn’t want to get their hopes up. It’s not like they would believe me anyway” Logan admitted Wade placed his hand over his heart “Aw look whose heart grew three sizes” Wade mocked, making the Wolverine glare at him. Wade internally panicked, he needed Logan since he was an anchor beam and it’s not like this Logan could start fresh with the Y/N from his universe since they're dead. Meaning that Wade had to come up with something and fast.

Wade groaned making Wolverine snap his head toward him “This is the worst episode of Dr.Phil ever!” Wade whined. Wade grabbed Logan “You stay here and I’ll go talk to your precious Y/N who left like they were about to cut their hair, okay Peanut” Wade explained, surprisingly Logan agreed. Wade skipped towards the stairs. Wade saw some neighbors snooping “Yes children it’s Moi. Nothing to see here” Wade assured, he was about to introduce the peepers to Baby Knife but the peeping toms got the hint and closed their doors.  

As Wade reached Y/N’s apartment he tried to figure out how to persuade them to join him and his Peanut. He needs them to say yes so he can save his family.

FERAL!LOGAN HOWLETT with MUTANT!M!READER.

Oh fuck, no word is able to describe how much he wants you. He needs you. Craves you like a depraved man experiencing his last day on a dying planet.

If you’re all muscles and brains in a form he can’t quite get, he can’t be around you. He can’t stop himself from undressing you with his heated gaze, his vision glued on each scar that taints your body and his throat drying up from the lack of—well, you.

You have your own healing factor? It’s making him feel something. Something primal. Makes him give way to his more animalistic side, where he’s reduced to the instinct of claiming.

And if you sincerely accept that? Shit, LOGAN is all over you.

Trapping him in with your bicep locked around his neck, his head thumping back against your shoulders. You tighten your grasp ever so slightly, causing him to pant for air. He’s high off the pleasure, rolling his hips to take in your cock to the hilt. He’ll even bite down on the thick muscle, so fucked out of it, his teeth sinking into you to the brink of breaking the barrier.

When he returns—realizes that he’s hurt you, he’ll run the flat of his tongue all along the marking, feeling it heal underneath the muscle. That’s his breaking point. In spite of that distant voice telling him he’s the worst, he knows he won’t actually bring you any permanent harm. With that, he’s humping your cock instead of properly riding you, his thoroughly stretched hole fluttering around your girth in quick spasms.

“Fuck,” he grunts, a growl burying his whiny tone, “more, hngnh, harder. C’mon—” he draws in a gasp, your tip hitting his sweet spot and he throbs in a way that makes him light-headed, “—fuck me. Fuck me just like that, God, yes-”

You reach for his leaking dick with your free hand, jerking him in wet tugs. He groans, a guttural rasp from the depths of his chest. You’re littered in harsh bites, before they fade as your skin automatically stitches itself together. It’s almost disappointing. Kissing the spot just beneath his ear, you whisper. “Yeah? You want me like this?” You end the question with a sharp thrust of your hips, catching him off-guard and it earns you a greater spark of pain from his mouth.

“Uh-huh, mghh, uh-huh, fuck!” LOGAN HOWLETT is hit by an earth-shattering climax without warning, his walls constricting around your cock until you’re forced to grind into him. He’s shaking like a leaf, rutting through his high with his eyes dazed, his limbs twitching, and his tongue sucking bruises into your forearm.

Luxray, Jolteon, and ftm Pikachu late ko-fi doodle for jaie!

This is my first ever request! But how about secretly perverted higuruma? I imagine him being a regular office worker or attorney who's decently good at his job, and seemingly calm and collected at work, but he's secretly obsessed with his female superior. Like he dreams of her degrading him in her office after hours as she steps on his pathetic hard on. Him begging and crying for her mercy. That'd be cute 🎀

—hiromi higuruma • jujutsu kaisen

cw: sub!higuruma, dom!fem reader, office setting, power imbalance, degradation, footplay / stepping, crying kink, humiliation kink, higuruma begging, dubiously sane behavior

a/n; i’d never written anything about higuruma before, this was funn!!

he was already hard when you walked into the office.

you didn’t notice at first—your heels clicking across the tile, papers in your hand, expression sharp—but he did.

he noticed everything

the scent of your perfume.

the subtle movement of your skirt.

the slight frown on your face when you saw he was still here.

“you’re still working?” you asked, uninterested.

“ah—yes,” he replied, pushing his knees closer together under the desk. “just finishing a few things.”

his voice was calm. steady.

but inside?

he was screaming.

you walked behind him. didn’t even stop.

but your heels echoed in his head like a countdown.

he was already half-choking on the image: you catching him jerking off under the desk like a fucking pervert. dragging him to the floor. putting your heel on his cock and asking, “this is what you needed?”

and then—

you did stop.

right behind him.

“stand up,” you said. tone cold. unreadable.

“w-what…?”

you turned, slowly. “you’ve been staring at me for weeks. practically drooling. you think i don’t notice when a dog’s in heat?”

his face burned.

he stood up.

his hard-on was very visible now.

you looked down at it.

then at him.

“…pathetic.”

he whimpered.

and then—before he could even ask—your foot pressed against his cock.

firm. cruel.

he shuddered.

“get on the floor, higuruma.”

“yes—yes, ma’am—”

he dropped like a man praying.

on his knees. flushed. cock twitching.

“beg.”

“please… please step on me. use me. i’m disgusting. i can’t stop thinking about you, i—i need you to humiliate me, please—”

your heel pressed down harder.

he sobbed.

but he never moved away.

"Good morning, peanut~💛"

"Come here, pretty boy!"

Mihawk stops, turning at the sound of your voice floating through the open door of one the rooms. Were you talking to him? Terms of endearment aren't entirely new between the two of you, but pretty boy is entirely new.

Curious, he strides towards the door, intent on seeing what you need ㅡ and freezing when he finds that your attention is on that damn feline.

Eyes narrowing, Mihawk slips away quietly, leaving you oblivious to his presence. He knows he wouldn't be jealous of Kurai, swears that he isn't ㅡ but what has that creature done to deserve such sweet names from you?

Though he most definitely is not sulking, he dwells on it until after dinner when he looks up from his book to look at where you're curled up with your own propped open in your lap, one hand on the book and the other on Kurai.

"Darling," he begins, waiting until you look up. "I overheard you talking to..." He falters, eyes narrowing on the pleased cat next to you, "Kurai earlier, and you called him 'pretty boy'."

You blink. "I did," you answer, "because he is my pretty boy." You scratch under Kurai's chin.

"I see." He pauses, debating. "....am I not also your pretty boy?"

Your head tilts, brow furrowing. "Of course you are. What is this about?" You glance at Kurai, then back at Mihawk. "Are you jealous of the cat?"

He glares. "No. Jealousy of a creature like that is beneath me."

You nod, amused and wholly unconvinced as you return your attention to your book. "Whatever you say," you intone with a smirk, "pretty boy."

Mihawk scoffs, returning to his own book and sneaking glances at you when you don't notice, all but glaring at the cat.

Okay, so maybe he's a little jealous.

fulfilling fate

higuruma x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader

cw - angst, character death, mild gore, breakups, complex emotions, lack of context, not proofread, higuruma and nanami are somewhat OOC

tags - higuruma x reader , nanami x reader, nanami angst, higuruma angst, reader death, jjk angst, jjk x reader

an: my first fic on this site. wrote this because i feel shitty (about recent manga chapters, anime eps, and life in general) and trying to sleep. expect some sloppy writing

"Hiromi…"

Higuruma held the body closer, almost embracing it, smearing blood all over himself. She felt ominously cold to his touch, her graying complexion a stark contrast to the tanned skin tone of his.

He pressed his hand harder into the side of her neck, desperate to find more than her weakening pulse.

"Hang in there, okay? We're getting out of here. Ijichi's coming to-"

"Sorry…" she drawled, almost a whisper.

"No, no. Nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault. Look at me, please," he held her even tighter, as if trying to give her a portion of his life force. Fear and desperation gripped him as he felt her weight growing heavier by the second.

"Listen to me, you need to make it out of this alive. You need to fight, please."

A single, blood-stained tear rolled out her glassy eyes. Her labored breathing had quietened into soft, shallow huffs. Higuruma choked on a sob, feeling the heat rush to his head as his eyes welled with tears.

"There's someone here," he muttered, gaze fixed upon her dimming eyes. 

"You've always wanted to see him again," he continued, hand instinctively wiping the blood off her cheek and the corner of her lip.

An ominous silence filled the air.

Higuruma shuddered, mouth dry as he forced out his next words. "Nanami… Nanami Kento's here."

"Higuruma-"

"Kento's here. Please say something. Please," he pleaded to the dark, empty eyes staring blankly into the space above him.

"Y/N? Don't do this to me," the last syllable came out a whine at the crack of his voice. Desperation painted across his face as he shook the limp body in his arms. "Answer me. Say something! Nanami, talk to her. Talk to her and she'll answer you-"

"No. Stop it."

An anguished sob ripped through the chilly silence. Higuruma's grasp on the corpse unrelenting as he cradled it, facing the music, allowing himself to grief the person he only had the chance to love for a short while.

Before him stood the man who loved her much longer than Higuruma ever did. 

If only he didn't leave.

Nanami stood frozen in place. The man who was usually in action, always knew what to do in a crisis, suddenly reduced to a mere spectator of the grotesque scene, wherein the love of his life lay dying in the arms of another man.

His mind replaying scenes from the past few months. Scenes of her growing frustrated during that one discussion that went sour. Her defeated cries as she pleaded with him to stay. Her angry screamings as he walked out the door.

He remembered how it felt then. How he forced himself to not think about the good times with her. How he tried to reason with himself that it was for her own good.

For her happiness. So much for happiness.

Nanami watched as the younger guys, Ino and Yuuji rushed to console the devastated Higuruma. He could barely hear Haibara's voice next to him, asking if he's okay. 

He let the guilt eat away at him.

If only he didn't leave. 

If only he'd stayed, she wouldn't have to face this thing alone. He'll be by her side, keeping her safe like he'd always wanted. If only he'd stayed, he wouldn't have roped in such a good man like Higuruma into this undeserving situation.

If only he'd stayed, and fulfilled the grim fate that was meant for him.

thinking about giving some relief to your stressed husband before he has to attend an important meeting with his colleagues later in the afternoon…

you’re awakened by the shower of gentle kisses from your neck and face provided by none other than your own darling husband. your gaze softens when you notice that desperately hungry look in his eyes. then, when your eyes travel downward, you were pleasantly surprised by the sight of your husband’s naked body. the sunrise shone through your bedroom window, basking your husband in a golden light. he looked near damn ethereal.

you greedily took in his meaty thighs, toned arms, rock hard abs, and his useless, thick, leaking cock. sometimes you wondered how in the hell you were able to marry a hunk like him. you could distinctly remember that your husband had many admirers in his life who would give anything to be able to have a chance with him.

you felt pride bubble in your chest knowing that none of them would ever be able to see your husband like this: looking down at you with pleading eyes, not even having to say a word to let you know what he wanted. for you to fuck him like a cheap whore until your bedroom stank of sex. how could you deny your baby when he’s been good for you all week long?

“you look so pretty on top of me baby, mhm, move your hips just like that,” you praised as the grip of your husband’s quivering legs tensed around you as he raises his hips until just your tip is inside him before plopping down, his skin slapping sinfully against your cum stained pelvis; evidence of your previous rounds that your husband was so desperate to keep inside him as it continued to leak out with every frantic movement of his hips.

“yer cock feels so good, i needed this so much— ah!” he gasped when you grab hold of his waist and snapped your hips up to match the pace of his feverish riding. you could hear the tear of fabric beside your head as your husbands claws at your pillows, his breathless moans increasing as you continue to plow into his hole.

“oh fuck yes! please go faster, i’m so close,” your husband begs so beautifully as he rest his forehead beside your neck, he pants against your ear as his climax creeps closer. the final straw for him was when you wrap your fingers around his girth and stroke him along with your erratic thrusts. he muffled his whine by biting into your shoulder as he added more to the white mess of your abdomen. overstimulation cuts him like a knife as you continued to use him until you quickly follow suit and you slam balls deep into his ass and fill him with warm cum.

you husband lays flat against you like a puppet without strings as you both try to catch your breath. he lifts himself from your shoulder to stare down at you with so much tenderness. only you had the privilege to see your husband in such a mess. a mess that you had created to perfection.

you felt yourself grin as your husband starts to slowly ride you again, making your cock harden just minutes after your previous session. your handsome man was just as greedy as you. if not more.

ghost, gaz, soap, price, miguel, choso, sukuna, vander, jayce, gojo, geto, ur fav characters <3

thinking about collecting debt from gi-hun another way.

the mans hair was a mused sweaty mess with some stray pieces sticking to his forehead. gi-huns chest heaved, hungry for air hoping to clear his mind. it felt his senses went haywire, he was feeling all the wrong emotions!

and unmistakably there’s a tent in his pants, he’s hard.

“masochist bitch gi-hun likes it rough, huh?” you crowded cover him in the small bathroom. gi-hun attempted to scoot away but his back hit the wall with a thud.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about…” he looked away not daring to look in your eyes, he could practically see the lust spilling from them.

the air was thick around the both of you, making his head feel stuffed with cotton. that had to be why gi-hun didn’t feel scared, he felt aroused.

“then whats this guy doing awake, hmm?” you leaned into his personal space, giving his cock a hard squeeze. eliciting the most delectable mewl to slip from his lips.

“look at you… all hot n' bothered from getting a little roughed up. is this what you wanted gi-hun? to be put in your place like this?”

he whimpered and shook his head pathetically yet he couldn’t muster the words to deny your claims.

"it's alright, i know just what to do with sluts like you.”

---

"mmph-, you can't suddenly go that deep, sir, you’ll ruin me–!”

gi-huns face contorted into bliss as he came for the umpteenth time adding to the mess of bodily fluids coating both your bodies. your pace on his hole was unrelenting, obvious that you we're using him to chase your own release.

"y'know, the term 'punishment' isn't supposed to mean you enjoy it.' you sighed, rubbing a hand over your head. "what to do with a slut like you.."

"m' s-sorry, sorry sir!" gi-huns nails dug into your biceps, the only thing anchoring him from falling into a subspace even though it was probably too late to worry about that. from their perch on your shoulders, gi-huns legs shook vehemently.

you placed a hand on gi-huns stomach, almost cumming from the feeling of your cock bulging his stomach. "fuck baby, with such a slutty body like this you could make back the money you owe me in a few days."

"but do i really want to share you?" you faked contemplation before grabbing gi-huns face in your hand. his cheeks squished together, pursing his lips. "tell me gi-hun," you leaned in, barely an inch away from his lips. "do you want to be everyones slut?"

he made a broken gurgle sound in his throat in reply, eyes glazed over and unfocused. he was too fucked out to reply. how adorable.

"well good thing you have me to make the choice for you." you bit down on the junction between his neck and shoulder as a way to stake your claim on the man. "from this day onward, you're my bitch till you pay off what you owe me. it's a pleasure to be working with you, gi-hun."

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