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Published:
2020-07-16
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2020-12-03
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Eroguro Series

Chapter 35: Jonathan - Marking

Notes:

for @acatsuki! i loved writing this chapter - please comment and let me know if you enjoyed, if not i'll gladly write you another!! thank you all for reading!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It started with a bruise.

You bumped your thigh hard against the corner of the dining room table while walking by. “Fuck!” you exclaimed, tearing up. Jonathan was at your side in a split second, asking if you were okay and what had happened. “I just hit my leg, it’s fine.” You sniffled and he wiped away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. You smiled at him and rubbed your thigh before brushing it off, sighing softly.

Jonathan had thought nothing of it until later that day when you were dressed in your nightclothes, thighs exposed. The skin where you’d hit yourself was now a mottled purple-brown, the edges still an irritated pink colour.

Now Jonathan was normally gentle with you. He loved making you feel loved and appreciated, worshipping your body and making sure every part of you felt good. But the sight of that bruise made his cock throb, and he held his breath at the thought of it. He ended up jerking off while you were in the shower, replaying the noise you’d made when you hit the table and groaning when he was done, cum splattering against his tummy.

The next morning in bed he brushed his fingertips over the bruise, circling it carefully. You sighed at the feeling, pressing your head to his chest. “Does it hurt?” he asked, voice low. You shook your head, opening your eyes to stare up at him.

“Only if you press on it.”

He pressed, and you drew in a sharp breath. “Jonathan…”

He’d never heard you like that - in pain because of something he’d done to you. It turned him on, and he repeated the action, making you swear softly. “Jonathan!” He pulled his thumb away from it, brushing over it softly with his fingertips once again. You sighed a little and fell back asleep, comforted by the circles he gently rubbed into your skin.

You were showering later that day when Jonathan came into the bathroom, settling behind you underneath the hot water, brushing his nose against the back of your neck. “Hello love,” he murmured, earning a hum in return. He stared at the bruise on your leg. How could he get another one on you?

He kissed at your neck, biting softly and sucking marks into your skin. You moaned quietly, tilting your head to grant him better access to your skin. He moved onto your shoulders, littering you with bite marks and hickeys, groaning when he saw the bright purple and angry red marks. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, rubbing the marks with loving fingers. You turned your head to look at him, pressing your ass against his now hard cock.

“Fuck me, Jonathan,” you whispered. How could he say no to that?

He spent the night staring at your hickeys, and the next few days he was absorbed in the healing process, watching the skin turn a sick kind of yellow and the purple fading to a reddish brown. And once they were gone, he replaced them with new ones, fucking you gently but marking you all over - on your inner thighs, neck, chest and collarbones. Wherever he could reach, he marked you. There was no way anybody could doubt that you were his.

You ended up with purple-brown knees and hands one day after tripping and falling down the stairs. You cried like a baby this time, Jonathan sitting you in his lap and comforting you for what seemed like ages. He couldn’t help but get hard at the thought of how battered you were now, your palms scraped and bumped along with your knees and shins. His suspicions were confirmed later when you came to bed, covered in the small marks.

He fucked you hard that night, not caring if it hurt you, completely absorbed in fucking you and biting at your already aching bruises, making you cum until you were shuddering and begging for him to stop.

Hickeys weren’t enough anymore.

The marks didn’t last long enough and bruises were rare - you’d become more careful since your previous falls. It was in the shower, again, that he tried out something new. His lips ghosted over your skin, making you shiver. Finally, his teeth came down on your shoulder, but instead of the usual licking and sucking that came after, his teeth continued to push, incisors and canines digging deep into the skin.

You knew you should be worried, ask him what he was doing and pull away. But it felt good - the pain felt good. Finally, his teeth broke your skin, sinking into muscle and drawing blood.

“Jonathan!” you cried, but there wasn’t any hostility in your voice - if anything, it seemed like you were encouraging him, begging him to keep going. He pulled back, tearing away a chunk of your skin and lapping up the blood that was quickly rushing to the surface. You moaned, the pleasant sting making you reach behind, gripping Jonathan’s cock and slowly beginning to jerk him off.

He moved his lips to another spot on your neck, doing the same. His teeth hurt you as they sunk into your muscle, his jaw unbelievably strong as he was able to draw blood and tear away chunks of your skin, leaving you covered in small wounds that continued to bleed even under the hot water of the shower. Jonathan groaned, pressing his fingers into these wounds, the soft flesh squishing underneath his touch.

He came hard against your lower back, hips grinding against your ass as he rode out his orgasm.

The wounds worried most people, as some of them were visible above your neck. You brushed off questions and worries, smiling and assuring them that they didn’t hurt you at all. They were scattered across your body now - every time you fucked, Jonathan left them on the plush fat of your thighs, just above your pubic bone, and of course on your neck. The feeling of pain pulsating throughout your body making you cum harder than before.

But Jonathan couldn’t get enough of it.

You were laying in bed, waiting patiently for Jonathan to join you, littered with scabs and hickeys and bites, body aching for his cock and his hands all over you. When he finally appeared in the doorway, he was holding a knife, and you shuddered at the prospect of what he intended to do to you.

“Jonathan,” you practically whimpered.

He breathed your name, making his way onto the bed and straddling your hips. His weight pinned you down, and you smiled up at him - your gentle giant. He cut your night shirt open, fingers going straight to your nipples, teasing you until they were sensitive and your back arched from even the lightest of touches. He leaned down to kiss you - a careful and calculated kiss, tongue brushing against yours and teeth biting your lip until the kiss was filled with the metallic taste of your blood.

He pulled back, his breathing hard from the kiss.

“Are you mine?” he asked, digging his fingers into one of your wounds, blood rushing to the surface as he broke past the healing layer.

“All yours,” you reassured him.

“Say it again.”

“I’m all yours, Jonathan.”

He didn’t pause or wait, picking up the knife and carving a ‘J’ into your chest, knife slicing right next to your nipple, making you wail. The knife dug deep, grazing your rib which made you twitch, tears spilling down your cheeks. Jonathan leaned in to kiss you, swallowing your noises as he continued to carve his name into you, the knife stabbing your sternum and making you scream. The kiss ended and you screamed, sobbing.

“Jonathan, Jonathan-”

“You’re mine,” he said softly, cradling your face with a bloody hand, wiping away your tears, leaving your cheek covered in blood. “Always.” You nodded in return, hiccuping. He looked down at his work of art, ‘JONATH-’. He continued his work, stabbing down into one of your ribs and pulling a blood-curdling scream from your lips. He pushed the knife through it, slicing your rib and completing his first name.

He dug his fingers into the cut, poking at the bone marrow of your rib.

“Tell me you want me,” he demanded.

“I need you,” you insisted, moaning as you felt him slide the knife just above your crotch. “I don’t want you, I need you, Jonathan, please.” You hiccuped between almost every word, eyes staring up at him full of adoration. He tore open your underwear, pulling out his erection and pressing it gently against your entrance.

He covered his hand in your blood, using it to wet your hole along with his precum, both of you panting softly at the feeling. He pushed just the head of his cock into you, and you groaned at the stretch. The blood made for shitty lube, but Jonathan took his hand and rubbed your leaking sex, then pressed wet fingers against your entrance, his cock sliding in easier. The stretch was still enough to make you writhe, back arching which only caused pain to shoot through your ribs.

You cried out from pleasure and pain. Jonathan had barely started up his slow thrusts when the knife dug into your stomach, the second ‘J’ of his name permanently marked into you. His hand slipped as he carved the ‘O’ in, slicing you open deeper than he intended, making you scream again. Your voice was hoarse as you screamed his name, whimpering and sobbing although no tears came anymore.

“Jonathan,” you wailed, your bottom lip trembling. “Jonathan please.”

His thrusts sped up, his cock throbbing at the sight of your wrecked torso. Despite the pain you were in, despite your gaping wound that shower off your colon, shiny with blood and mucus, you still gasped with each thrust, pleasure radiating throughout your lower half, Jonathan’s cock slamming into your sweet spot every time.

He continued to carve his name into you, careful not to damage your large intestine, groaning at the sight of his finished job.

“Jonathan Joestar,” he read, punctuating each name with a sharp thrust, pulling choked moans from you. He picked up his pace, fucking you with firm and slow thrusts, aiming to make you cum before him, your pleasure always his priority.

You cried, moaned and whined as he fucked you, body trembling all over as your orgasm got closer and closer. You felt your arousal pulsating, your breath ragged. You squeezed your eyes shut, clinging to Jonathan with weak arms as you came, pulling him close to you. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking in one final mark as he filled you with his cum.

Your throbbing hole clamped around him, practically milking him of cum. He gave a few shallow thrusts, groaning your name. “You’re mine,” he muttered, slamming into you one last time, making you cry out. “All mine.”

You lay there, weakly clinging to him until he finally pulled out, his cum leaking out of your used hole between your thighs, the feeling of the head of his cock passing your entrance making you shudder.

He cradled you gently, careful not to hurt your rib or cuts. He used his Hamon to fix up your bone, and heal the particularly deep cuts. But the rest remained, his name bleeding into the sheets and onto both of your skins, the blood drying slowly.

Tomorrow, he’d bathe you and clean you up carefully and gently. But for now, he just held you as close as he possibly could, fingers playing with your hair and admiring your bruised and battered body. Now that he’d marked you permanently, there was no use for hickeys and bites.

You were his forever now, whether you liked it or not.

Notes:

requests will be opened this weekend!