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starcursedluvrs · 2 days

Text

"TALK"

I suguru x pregnant!reader

“And I’d be the immediate Forgiveness In Eurydice. Imagine being loved by me.”

part I of suguru x pregnant!reader (this isn’t completely canon compliant, and will probs be 3 or 4 parts and will go up to December 24th, 2017 on the current JJK timeline).

summary: you loved suguru more than anything in this world. and you could argue he felt the same for you. actually, he would end the world for you. so, he took you with him the night he defected, and you happily obliged. however, in the midst of the chaos of leaving your life behind, two little lines appear on a certain test causing you to rethink your entire plan.

A/N: heyyy!! i'm arden!! this is my first try at ever posting the fanfic I’ve written so please enjoy! I started this specific fic as a hobby back in December, and I finished it a little over a month ago (I’ve just been kinda nervy to post hehe) so here goes nothing! likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated <3

MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

warnings!: SPOILERS FOR GOJO’S PAST ARC. THIS IS A PREGNANCY FIC! 18+. nsfw. f!reader. suguru and reader are over the age of 18. explicit sexual content. unprotected sex/oral (f!receiving). breeding kink. fingering. creampie. pregnancy. unplanned pregnancy. lactation kink. mentions of child abuse. cute domestic fluff hehe.

wc: 14.5k

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September 2007

4:27 PM (16:27)

“Wait…so what are we doing again?” you asked, riding atop one of Suguru’s many curses. You were straddling the pink alien-looking curse, legs dangling off either side. One of Suguru’s large hands held your waist steady while the other controlled the motion of the cursed spirit. His chin was buried in the crook of your neck, so that he had easy access to press kisses into your skin.

Suguru left a line of sweet pecks down your shoulder before answering.

“This village in the sticks was reported to have kidnappings and abnormal deaths. Shouldn’t be anything unusual,” he said nonchalantly.

You leaned back against him so that you could look up into his honey irises, pouting. His hand left your waist, moving comfortably behind him to support both of your weight.

“Then why did you ask me to come along? Seems like you could handle it yourself, you’re a special grade. I’m only a semi grade-one,” you reasoned, reaching up to play with his stray bangs. He grabbed your hand before you could reach his neat, inky bun, pressing light kisses into your knuckles.

“Well, if all goes well, maybe we can find a hotel or do something nice. Charge it to the school and say it took longer than we expected, so we get to stay somewhere overnight without waking Satoru,” Suguru replied, smirking a bit on the last line of his speech.

“I like the way you think, my love,” you beamed, melting into his touch.

…

January 2007

You and Suguru had been in a committed relationship for the past nine months, and friends for even longer. You started secretly fucking around at the beginning of your third year at Jujutsu High. You had always been attracted to him, but given your tiny class size and the complexity of Jujutsu Society, you didn’t want to cause any drama or make things weird between you two.

Well, life doesn’t always go to plan.

Especially that one night at the beginning of your third year when you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru broke into Yaga’s liquor cabinet, stole two bottles of sake, and got a little handsy. With your judgment impaired, you might have let it slip that you thought Suguru was very attractive and often wondered how his sculpted body would feel beneath his Bontan pants and uniform shirt. The thought was reciprocated by the raven head.

One thing led to another, and the next morning, you woke up in a tangled mess of inky black hair and bedsheets. Suguru just held you, keeping your body close to his, whispering sweet nothings into your ears. It was nice, you did not have to say anything to fill the comfortable silence that had fallen upon you two.

Eventually, he placed a kiss on your forehead and started to pull his clothes on from the previous night.

Last night. Was last night a mistake?

Should you have let Suguru taken you out to dinner or something before he fucked you into tomorrow?

“Wait…Sug hold on.

What does this mean?

For us? Our friendship?” you asked in a panic before Suguru reached the door.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to,” he replied in his calm, collected tone, looking at the floor with his back to you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sat up, still covered by the soft sheets, pulling your knees into your chest, slightly offended.

“Just that we don’t have to make a big deal out of this if we don’t want to. We also don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to. I know this could complicate things if we keep at it,” he paced around to face you again, the distance still rather daunting.

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

The comfortable silence from before slowly turned awkward.

“Um…thanks,” you offer.

“…for…what?” Suguru inquired.

“Last night. It was…fun,” you flashed him an unsure smile.

A deep rumble came from his chest as he chuckled, “Yeah, let’s see how much fun you have walking today. See ya in class,” before leaving the room.

“SUG-“ you called after him, blushing at the cheesy line as he left the room, disappearing back into the cocoon of sheets.

…

March, 2007

You tried to keep your distance from him. Being a child of the Kamo clan, you were probably destined to be forced into some relationship that benefitted Jujutsu society, and not your happiness. This was just one of the many things that you hated about Jujutsu Society. Therefore, Suguru was all that more enticing to you.

You found yourself perched on Suguru’s desk the next week. Your legs were spread wide, held apart by his large hands to assure you didn’t squirm around too much and get away from him. Suguru was lapping at your folds like a man starved. He dragged his tongue up and down your slit, and worked his way up to your clit, giving it a little kiss and suck.

“Ngh Suguru. More.” You moaned, bucking your hips up to his face.

“That’s not how we ask,” he replied, pulling away.

“Suguru. Please.”

“What happened to complete sentences?” Suguru pressed one of his large thumbs to your nub, holding pressure, but refrained from moving it.

“Fuck YOU Suguru I-“

“That’s what I’m trying to do, doll. You’re just not behaving.”

He started to swirl his thumb around gently. It wasn’t enough to make you cum, but the pleasure was still intense.

“Suguru please, I need som-something inside. Fingers. Yours. Please.” You croaked out, your head going dizzy with pleasure.

“Awww, what’s wrong? Can’t think straight?” He said, plunging his slickened digits, adorned with a few silver rings, right into your core.

“At least you said please, so I guess I’ll let you cum this time,” Suguru voiced in that smooth, sultry voice of his.

He started moving those two digits back and forth in a “come here” motion, not giving you a chance to adjust to their circumference. A lewd squelching noise filled the room as he continued his ministrations. “You’re being such a good girl for me, taking my rings and fingers so well. Yeah, you like that, don’t you?”

You let out a loud moan, and Suguru immediately pushed his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on. That way, you wouldn’t draw attention to any unwelcome visitors who might be walking the halls of the school.

“You don’t even have to answer with that pretty mouth, your body is answering for you. You’re so tight. Gods, you’re gorgeous.” he whispered into your ear.

He put his mouth back on your clit to suck, and added a third finger. He kept thrusting it in and out, hitting that sweet spot that had you seeing stars, as if he had your g-spot memorized.

If Sugru ended up drowning in your juices, he would die a happy man. He absolutely loved lapping up at your sweet pussy, the earthy scent intoxicating to him.

Soon, you felt the familiar coil in the depths of your belly start to come undone, and your cunt fluttered around Suguru’s fingers, the stimulation becoming too much.

“Come apart f’me. I got you love. I got you. Cum f’me,” Suguru commanded in his pussy-drunk haze.

You let go as your orgasm washed over you, relishing in the pure bliss as Suguru helped you through the aftershocks. When you came to, he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. You could still taste your essence on his tongue.

The next night, you were folded over the same desk as he pounded into you with his fat length. The bathroom stalls. The pantry. Behind the bleachers at the field. You could not get enough of each other.

You and Suguru both fell hard and fast for each other. His unwavering sense of morality, intelligence, and kindness towards others drew you even further into his grasp. The way he spoke, his scent of freshly done laundry, his loyalty to his friends; these were all things that you loved about Suguru Geto. He was one of a kind.

As Jujutsu Sorcerers, you were well aware that your tomorrow was not guaranteed. Suguru made you feel alive, which, to you, was worth more than any amount of fame or glory that your clan could bestow upon you. He truly wanted to make the world a better place for you, and any future you might have together. On the third month of your official relationship, you confessed your love:

“Suguruuuu,” you giggled as he kissed up your neck.

You had been laying in Suguru’s bed, in the midst of a heated makeout session. Your back was pressed flat into the mattress, knees at an angle, and feet flat against the soft duvet. Suguru was positioned right on top of you, in between your knees. He held your face in both of his hands, and your arms clung to the back of his head, getting lost in the inky strands.

“I love you.” He whispered, as if he was telling a secret.

In lieu of an answer, you brought his head down into a deep, passionate kiss. Your tongues danced together for what seemed like forever and no time at all, until you broke the kiss and said, “I think I may love you more.”

“Unfortunately, doll, that’s simply not true. I’d end the world for you.”

You were hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.

…

May 2007

“You have a list of baby names picked out? Dude you’ve been together for like a few months.” Shoko taunted, a cigarette tucked between her lips, clicking away on her silver flip phone.

“Oh, come on Ieiri, I think every person has a baby name list.”

“I don’t.” Shoko deadpanned.

“You’re a lesbian who has no desire for kids,” you shot back.

“Touché. I do have a cat name list, though, if that counts,” Shoko added.

“I think it does.” you replied.

“Ugh, fineee, gimme the list,” said Shoko, already grabbing the journal out of your hand. After scanning through the list of names, Shoko looked up at you and burst into laughter.

“Ok, you cannot name your kid Shigure. Or Kyo. Or any character from Fruits Bask-“

“Yo, WHO’S having a kid” interrupted the lanky, white-haired person with blacked-out sunglasses and a mischievous smile. Suguru appeared next to Satoru, holding a basketball, running to kiss you hello.

“NO ONE’S having a kid,” you replied.

“Ok, wait I need to know, do either of you have baby name lists? I feel like every person has them.”

Satoru sighed, and thought about the question for a second. Suguru sat on the ground and started rolling the basketball in the dirt.

“I haven’t even thought about baby names. To be honest, kids are kinda hard to have when you’re a sorcerer. You have to go on missions and then come home and change diapers, no thanks. Like, what if it poops on you? Also, I kinda wanna spite the old geezers in my clan.” Satoru added.

“You raise an excellent point, Gojo. This is one of the reasons why I love being a lesbian. Less of a risk for accidents,” Shoko took a drag from her cigarette.

“I can’t be the ONLY person here who has a list,” you sighed.

“Lemme see that-“ Satoru said as he grabbed your journal from Shoko’s grasp.

“…These are just Fruits Basket and One Piece charact-” Satoru snickered.

“Wait Satoru, have you read the new One Piece chapter yet? I heard it’s crazy.” Suguru cut in.

“Oh, no not yet, I haven’t had a chance to get the new volume,” Satoru whined.

“What are you doing right now? Wanna go pick up some coke from the vending machine, then get to that bookstore in Shinjuku and grab a copy?” Suguru explained with excitement.

“Honestly, a coke sounds amazing right now. Either of you wanna come?” Satoru gestured to you and Shoko.

“Nah, I think we’re gonna go steal some of Yaga’s booze,” Shoko informed.

“Yeah, he’s on a mission for the next day or so. Might as well take advantage of it,” You said, a little defeated and disinterested.

“…’kay see you guys later then.” Satoru said in a sing-songy voice.

Suguru walked up to you, pressed a quick peck on your lips, and said, “I’ll be back. Love you.”

But that wasn’t all.

Under his breath, so that no one else could hear, he whispered, “Don’t think this conversation is over yet, doll,” and walked away as if he hadn’t uttered anything. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and you felt your cheeks go hot as he walked away.

…

Later the same day, May, 2007

You were sitting on Suguru’s lap as he twiddled on his PS3 controller playing one of his games. Suguru was sitting on the floor, his legs criss-crossed while you leaned against his back, feeling his warmth though his clothing. You were sporting one of his large white t-shirts, wearing only your favorite pair of panties underneath.

“Sug?” You question softly, turning around to face him.

“Yeah, doll?” He replied not looking down from his game.

“So…about that comment earlier. Why did you say the conversation wasn’t finished yet? And which one? About the One Piece chapter? Or the baby names? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable asking that question, I was ju-“

Suguru paused his game and looked at you, a smirk on his face.

“It did the opposite of making me uncomfortable, actually. It made me feel a little more normal, or as normal as we can be given our lifestyle. I have a baby name list too.”

Your heart fluttered. Of course he did.

“I saw the list over Satoru’s shoulder. And we actually had one name in common.”

“Which name?”

“Riko.” He replied softly.

His answer made you happy and sad all at once. You wish you didn’t have that name on your list. Riko Amanai had meant so much to the both of you. She represented the freedom that you could have from Jujutsu Society, as well as everything that was broken and corrupt about it. Riko’s death is what radicalized the both of you. She set you both on a path to work towards a better world.

For a moment, you thought about what your life would be with Suguru had you not been Jujutsu Sorcerers. You would probably get married as soon as you graduated, get a job somewhere. Buy a cozy house in the countryside. Make home cooked meals, have children, adopt some dogs. You would grow old together and not have to constantly worry about the fact that you could die a gruesome death in the morning.

You were lying down on your side now, your back against Suguru’s chest. Suguru moved a hand under your shirt, to your stomach, slowly rubbing circles, drawing you out of your trance.

“I love your tummy, it’s so cute” Suguru sighed into your ear.

You giggled.

“What’s so funny about that, love?”

“I’m sorry that just sounded so funny in the moment.”

“I don’t think it’s that funny, especially when my baby’s gonna be in there one day.”

He said it so nonchalantly and matter-of-factly that you thought you had misheard him. You blushed, hoping you didn’t mishear.

“SUG-“ you turned around and gave a playful slap to his arm.

After a pause of giggling from the both of you, Suguru just couldn’t let the topic get away from you.

“Ya know, I think about it a lot,” he continued.

“Think about what,” you questioned.

“Think about what our future would be like. A house that is actually full of love. And little feet running around.”

“Tell me more,” you said against his lips.

“Maybe we’d live in a really remote village away from everything Jujutsu related. We could get a little farm, raise some sheep, horses, chickens, crops. We could add to the world instead of just taking.”

“Why do we have to wait for the future to do that? Money isn’t the issue here,” You answered, referring to the handsome compensation you receive for such a risky career path.

“True, I could just fuck a baby into you right now.”

“I was talking about the house, and you knew that.” You shot back, a laugh escaping your chest at an attempt to be serious.

“That’s another thing I think about.”

“What?” You were taunting him now. You wanted to see where this was going.

“You, your tummy all round with my baby. God, you look so good when you’re stuffed full f’me,” Suguru slurred. From the dim light of his paused video game, you could see that his pupils were blown with lust. He kissed you hard and messily, tongue intertwining with yours.

Suguru removed your (his) shirt and started to kiss down your body, landing at your breasts, hovering right over a nipple.

“These would look so good with milk. So pretty and soft,” he purred, taking a nipple into his mouth.

The warmth of his mouth felt so good against your pebbled nipples, you couldn’t help but let out a moan. He licked and sucked until you were a drooling, wet mess underneath him.

“You like this, huh. Baby, I’ve barely touched you. And you’re already this worked up?” He taunted, moving to give attention to the neglected nipple.

“What else?” you slurred, ignoring his question. He still hadn’t admitted it.

“Everyone would know who you belonged to. All because of me.” He continued, releasing the nipple from his mouth.

His words sent shivers down your spine, and you felt your arousal start to pool uncomfortably in your underwear. You needed them off.

“Suguru, what do you want?” you asked the obvious question, just wanting to hear him speak more on the topic.

“I wanna stuff your pretty cunt full of cum ‘till you can’t take any more, doll,” he grumbled, grinding his impressive erection on your clothed cunt.

“Wanna get you pregnant so bad,” he continued pressing feverish kisses down the length of your body. “You’ve been asking a lot of questions about what I want.” He made his way to your panties, “But, before I take these off, I need to know what you want.”

Your hole was clenching around nothing at his words, you were getting rather impatient.

“Please touch me.” You whined.

“Hmm, I have been touching you my love,”

“Sugu- stop t-teasin-nghhh.” you moaned as one of his thick fingers started moving in a circular motion on your bud. Soon, one finger became two, and he moved them from your clit to your slick folds, swirling the juices around, occasionally ghosting your eager cunt.

“Suguru gimme your dick,” you begged.

“Baby, one, you can ask nicer than that, where are your manners? And two, I have to get you ready to take me first. Gotta make sure I can fit the most amount of cum in there as possible,” he let out a small moan on the last word.

“Open your mouth, doll,” he commanded.

You complied, opening your mouth as he stuck his two slickened fingers in, pushing them as far back as they could go. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a dark stain forming on his gray sweatpants. He must have been impossibly hard.

Your moans and gasps vibrated against his digits, and when he thought you had been teased enough, he finally offered you the sweet relief of his fingers filling you. Definitely not as large as his cock, but they reached the parts of you that you could not with your own hands. Suguru started thrusting in and out, curling his fingers along the way, hitting your g-spot with brutal precision.

“Sug-nghhh, I’m gonna-”

“Shhh baby, you can let go for me, I got you. So good f’me.”

With the thumb of his hand, he lightly stroked your clit, and you felt the familiar heat bubbling in your core. After a few more thrusts, and praises from Suguru, you were cumming all over his fingers. He helped you through your orgasm, your head full of wool as you came down from your high. Suguru brought his drenched appendages to his mouth and sucked, cleaning your fluids from his fingers.

“If only curses tasted this good. I can’t get enough of you.”

In your post-orgasm clarity, you realized that your boyfriend was still clothed. That wouldn’t do. You sit up, rummaging through sticky sweats and underwear to pull his dick out. A long strand of precum dripped from his tip, breaking away as you pulled him out of his boxers. His penis would never fail to surprise you; he was of average length, but so thick, you could barely close your hand around him. You wrapped two hands around his cock as your mouth watered at the beautiful sight before you. But, just as you were about to taste him, two of his strong hands pushed you back against the bed, forcing you off of his dick.

“What was that for? I wanna suck you off,” you pouted.

“Sorry, doll. We can’t waste any cum,” he said as his nose ghosted against yours.

“But I just wanted to make sure, you never said it out loud. Do you actually want this? Can I actually get you pregnant? Don’t wanna pressure you if it was just a kink.” He looked into your eyes with concern, needing your verbal confirmation to continue.

“Suguru. Put a baby in me.”

You think you broke your boyfriend after saying that. He let out a grunt from deep within his chest and grabbed a pillow from the pile that fell off the bed in during your earlier activities. He placed the pillow underneath your lower back and whispered choruses of “I love you,” on your skin. Suguru’s fingertips traced over your skin, eventually grasping your legs, throwing them over his shoulders.

“I don’t deserve you, doll.” He pressed a quick kiss to your nose.

“This is called a mating press,” Suguru explained as he grabbed his cock and lined up with your twitching hole. “I did some research as to what position would get you pregnant the fastest, and I think this one has a good success rate.” He sounded so methodical in his explanation, which was so in character for him. Of course your Suguru would do research into this. He would do anything for you to make you happy. And you would do the same for him.

When he pushes the head in, you both gasp at the contact. He kept sliding in until his balls slapped against your ass and your pelvic bones met. There was such little resistance, and you let out a sob as he bottomed out.

“You ok, baby? You’re taking me like such a-a, nghhh- good girl. Feels like heaven in your pussy. My pussy.” It was so attractive when he got possessive over you, your ovaries felt like they were about to burst in more ways than one.

“Sugu- ngh- move-“

Instead of moving, he licked the inside of your upper thigh, dragging his tongue impossibly slow to tease you.

“NGH- plea-ahhh please,” you could feel tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. He made it so easy for you to fall apart.

“Good girl, look at you using your words,” he sounded wrecked, his voice gravely with arousal. And with that, he began moving. At first, his thrusts were slow and deep; you could feel every vein and ridge on his dick. His balls slapped against the fat of your ass, creating an embarrassingly loud clapping sound that bounced off of the walls. It felt delicious.

You weren’t just having sex - he was making love to you. It was emotional and sensual. The tears you felt earlier spilled over on to your cheeks as Suguru picked up the pace, his cock pistoning in and out. He kissed your tears away as you muttered broken moans of both his name and explicits.

Suguru’s grip was surely going to leave bruises in the morning. One hand was holding your body in place around your waist, while the other kept your leg over his shoulder. He let go of your leg for a moment as he grabbed another pillow that was somewhere in reach, and gently slid it under your hips so that he could reach you at a deeper angle. Your vision went blurry. He was impossibly deep, you thought you could feel him rearranging your intestines.

Finally, his thrusts started getting sloppier. You knew Suguru was close.

“Gonna fuck my baby into you,” he half moaned. “Fuck, love, I’m close. Want ya to let go first,” and with that, he moved his possessive, bruising touch to rub your clit. After a few rotations around your nub, you let go, your vision going white as you came hard, your cunt clamping down on his cock.

The vice grip of your pussy is what finally sent him over the edge, and Suguru began to fill you up with his thick load.

“Thank you, baby, thank you,” Suguru chanted, like it was a prayer, and you were the goddess who was receiving his offering. You laid like that for a while, him still inside, your hips tilted up to keep his cum inside of you. He left a trail of kisses down your sweat-drenched neck as his cock softened in your walls.

After about fifteen minutes, you felt Suguru starting to fill out again, his body gearing up for round two.

And then three.

And then four.

You lost count of how many times you had cum that night. Your tummy sported a small bump with the amount of Suguru’s seed trapped in your womb. You were so full that you couldn’t possibly take any more. And Suguru loved you like that.

Of course, he loved you always, but this was different. He took one of his large hands and gently massaged your sore, slightly swollen belly, pressing wet kisses all around.

“I hope our baby looks like you,” you whispered into the crown of his head.

“I was just thinking the same thing. I hope our baby at least has your eyes. I get lost in them sometimes,” he responded. “Ya know, your eyes are probably my favorite part of you, besides your tummy. And your beautiful brain. And every other part of you.”

“I love you so much, Suguru. I don’t think I can put it into words. You’re such a good man, so good to me. You’re gonna be the best dad one day,” you confessed.

“Hopefully, that day will be soon,” he smirked, “I’m gonna go get you water and a hot washcloth to clean you up. Want anything to eat?”

You smiled back at him and shook your head, blowing a kiss to him before he left.

You expected yourself to be more freaked out by his comment, “hopefully, that day will be soon,” but you couldn’t help but feel excited. Life as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was so unexpected, you never knew when a mission was going to be your last. You decided it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a little mini Suguru running around, allowing the three of you to finally have the family that neither you nor Suguru ever did.

…

August 2007

It was a disgustingly hot day outside. You were so sweaty, you felt your clothes sticking to you, and the humidity felt as if you were walking through a sauna.

Since it was so unbearably hot outside, you and Suguru decided it would be a nice day to go to a water park. Of course, that meant Satoru and Shoko had to tag along.

You and Suguru were in charge of packing, as the other two would not have chosen enough food or towels for your journey. They would probably also forget things like sunscreen and umbrellas, opting to fill your beach bags with bottles of booze and sweets. You and Suguru were practically the parents of the friend group at this point; sometimes the other two would even refer to you as “mom and dad.” Suguru would give you a smirk any time this happened, reminding you of the conversation you had back in May.

After you fought Satoru on the fact that he could not in fact take an entire box of ice cream mochi to the water park, you were set to leave on your adventure. The four of you and your bags all piled in the car of an assistant director. Excitement and easy conversation flowed through the vehicle, as all of you relished in the relief of the cool air conditioning.

Shoko sat in the front, smoking a cigarette, choosing which CDs to play, while you sat in the back with Satoru and Suguru. Suguru, being the gentleman that he is, gave you the seat behind the driver’s side. You tried to resist, explaining that he and Satoru would have more leg room if you just sat in the middle, but Suguru insisted.

The four of you finally arrived at the water park about an hour and a half later.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

As you walked through the wooden gates, the park was swarmed with families, teenagers, and college students. There were colorful slides entangled in each other at the center of the park, with a lazy river surrounding it. To the left, there was a wave pool with people attempting to surf, and to the right, there was another large pool with buckets of water that would dump on patrons randomly. The lounge chairs were spread throughout the park, and it seemed like the entirety of Japan had come to this one water park to beat the summer heat.

“Ok guys let’s stay together and try to find some lounge chai-”

“Shoko! I’m gonna beat you down those slides, ready?” Satoru screamed with glee, like a young child.

“Hold on, lemme finish this,” Shoko replied, motioning to her cigarette.

“NO! We. Are. Going. To. Sit. Down. Let’s just stay together, it’s a madhouse here,” You put your foot down.

“If I wanted to be mothered, mother, I would have gone home for the summer,” Shoko rolled her eyes at you. You just ignored her, too bothered by the heat to even come up with a good comeback.

“I sent out a curse to go find us a spot - wait. Where’s Satoru?” Suguru chimed in.

“Let’s be logical about this. Where is the nearest ice cream stand?” You asked.

“Ha, there he is,” Shoko nodded her head towards the nearest ice cream stand. In the line of children, there was one with white hair who was almost as tall as the stand itself. Bingo.

You marched over to the line, and went to tug Satoru by his ear back to the group. Alas, his Infinity was on, and you could not touch him.

“Oof, I would not wanna be him right now, that one has a temper,” Shoko joked, as she put her cigarette out over the trash can next to them, watching you and Satoru argue. In that moment, Suguru couldn’t help but stare at you, taking in how beautiful you looked against the summer sun. You were glowing, radiant, even as you berated his best friend.

“I haven’t seen you look at someone the way you look at her.” Shoko broke Suguru’s thoughts, pulling him out of his trance.

“Yeah.” Suguru responded, smiling.

“Wow, you didn’t even try to deny it,” Shoko smirked back. “OOooo someone’s in looovee,” Shoko teased.

“I am. And I’m so lucky. I love her more than anything in the world,” Suguru said with a content sigh.

“Ok, now you’re just gonna make me vomit, that’s so sappy,” Shoko stuck out her tongue, making a fake gagging sound.

“It’s true,” Suguru responded, still in his trance.

“What if I can treat her better than you,” Shoko teased.

“Maybe,” he said, the slightest flicker of insecurity in his eyes. “I don’t think I deserve her sometimes. She’s not as tainted by curses and cursed energy as I am. She’s not the one who absorbs curses day after day.” He looked tired. Shoko noticed the bags under his eyes, but just as she was about to say something, you came running with Satoru’s wrist in your hand, pulling him with an ice cream cone in his hand. The ice cream was beginning to drip everywhere.

“I can’t believe they only had vanilla. What a ripoff,” Satoru sighed, annoyed.

“You dumbass, you didn’t even get napkins!? How am I supposed to call you a functioning adult, you’re literally about to turn 19, and you didn’t even get napkins?!” You berated him again.

“Oh, looks like the curse found a place for us to sit. It’s keeping the area clear so non-sorcerers aren’t determined to sit there,” Suguru interrupted.

You all walked towards a little spot in the shade with three lounge chairs and a table. You figured you would just share your lounge chair with Suguru and sit in his lap. Or he could use your lap as a pillow and you could braid his hair. Either worked.

Just as you were setting out your towels on the chairs, you heard a PLOP and crying following after. A little kid had slipped and fallen down on the concrete. He used his hands to break the fall, and the skin of his palms were broken a little bit, blood splintering through the cracks. He started hysterically crying.

“Oh no, sweetie! Are you okay? Where is your grown up?” you rushed over to the kid.

“I think I packed a first aid kit in the bag, let me get it,” Suguru added.

Of course he did, that man was prepared for the end of the world.

Suguru took an antiseptic wipe from the kit, and bent down so that he was at eye level with the kid.

“This is probably going to sting, but it will feel better I promise. Your bathing suit is dope by the way, I love the colors,” Suguru cooed at the kid, trying to calm him down.

“You remind me a lot of my little brother, his name is Noritoshi. He’s really brave. Are you brave like him?” you added.

The child stopped his hysterics and let Suguru clean him up, listening to both of your kind words. He nodded his little head of pink hair at your question and pointed towards an elderly man slowly, but frantically making his way over to the kid.

“Yuji! What happened?” the old man asked.

“I falled and getted a boo-boo,” the kid, called Yuji, sniffled.

“He slipped and hurt his hand, we have some antiseptic disinfectant and bandaids though, so we fixed him right up,” you told the man as he got closer.

“He was really brave,” Suguru added, smiling down at Yuji.

“Thank you, so much. You two are very kind,” the man said in a monotone voice. Though his voice showed no emotion, his eyes did. His eyes looked tired, but definitely grateful to the kindness of you and Suguru.

“Feel better, dude!” Suguru yelled to Yuji as his grandfather led him away.

After about an hour of tanning on the lounges with Shoko, you looked to see where the boys went. It wasn’t very hard to spot the two best friends, as they were acting like children, making big waves in the lazy river. On Suguru’s shoulders, you noticed something: the kid with the pink hair from earlier.

Suguru and Satoru were having some sort of chicken fight with him, all three of them laughing and having the time of their lives.

“You are hopeless,” Shoko rolled her eyes, a new cigarette in between her lips.

“What do you mean?” You replied.

“Don’t play dumb, I know what you’re thinking,” she smirked back.

…

September 2007

“Suguru, you look like you’ve lost weight, are you okay?” Satoru asked, as he twirled a pencil in midair with his Infinity technique.

“Just tired,” Suguru responded.

Over the past few weeks, Suguru had developed dark circles and bags under his eyes. He looked pale, and was often exhausted. Not too exhausted for you though, apparently.

It seemed the two of you spent more and more time together holed up in one of your rooms when you weren’t on missions. It was just so nice in your own little world, away from everything. You didn’t have to care about who lived and who died. You only had to focus on each other.

Satoru attempted to carry on the conversation.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“You probably won’t see me for a while again.”

“Yo, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I need to get out of here. Both of us do. We’re not fit for Jujutsu Society.” Suguru said, referring to the two of you.

“Ha, ha, so funny.” Satoru sarcastically added.

“It’s not a joke.”

“What do you mean? Dude, you’re a special grade, you seriously think they’re gonna let you quit?”

It was true. The elders wouldn’t just let Suguru run away and walk free. If he was not with Jujutsu society, he was probably against it. And letting a special grade sorcerer and his grade one partner roam free would pose a threat to the stability of the elder’s iron grip on the status quo of Jujutsu society.

He’d have to get the elders to denounce and force you out.

So, here you were, flying with the man who was your boyfriend, your one and only, on the back of a curse, headed out for a mission, and hopefully, some much needed seclusion with Suguru.

…

7:03 PM (19:03)

You and Suguru decided to split up for the mission. It had been reported that there was a sighting of two possible curse users and a separate cursed spirit. Thus, Suguru wanted to deal with the curse users, and you to deal with the curse itself.

You exorcized the curse with ease, using piercing blood to slice the monster in half. There were a few other lower level curses, which you could have eliminated with your eyes closed. It seemed too easy. If Suguru was sent on this mission, there had to be something else, another factor. After a few minutes of patrolling for any other cursed energy residue, you decided to find your way back to Suguru.

You found him standing outside of a small house on the outskirts of the village. He seemed out of it; he was staring right at the door, but did not enter. As you approached, you saw the strong cursed energy residue leading from the door.

“Sug, I exorcized those curses. I know you hate the taste of swallowing them, I didn’t want to make you do that if you didn’t have to.” If Suguru heard you, he showed no acknowledgement.

“Suguru?” You pinched the sleeve of his white collared shirt.

“Dude? Did you hear me?” You squeezed his thick bicep, pushing your manicured nails into his skin, effectively bringing him back from whatever plane of reality he was on.

“The locals in the village told me this is the home of two little girls, twins. Their descriptions match the ones for the curse users. So…” He insinuated, leaving the rest for you to figure out. His amber eyes were dark and cold.

“Oh.” You said. You and Suguru had both been through a lot and hated Jujutsu Society. You and Suguru had your incident with Amanai a little over a year earlier, and your uppity clan kept you from your mother, a heartbreaking decision by the family head in order to give you the best possible chance of becoming the leader of the clan. A position which you despised.

Over the past few months, in the afterglow of sex, you two would lay there, embraced in each other's arms, dreaming of a world without curses, without clans, without people to produce those curses. “Monkeys,” as Suguru referred to non-sorcerers, from which curses were created. In your and Suguru’s fantasy world, you wouldn’t even have a reason to use curse techniques. You could get married, have children, live a peaceful life without fear of a curse coming to take that happiness away.

The bottom line is you knew Jujutsu Society was unfair, but never would you think you would be asked to harm a child. What was wrong with these people? You thought of your little brother, Norotoshi, who was also six years old. He was supposed to be your “competition” for the title of family head, but you never really wanted to fight him. He was just your sweet little brother.

How could you harm someone that is the same age as your little brother?

A wave of nausea ran through your body as the reality of the situation dawned upon you. Suguru kneeled down on the floor with you, rubbing your back and holding your hair back as you vomited.

“Shhh, I got you.” He wrapped you in an awkward embrace on the floor, and pressed a kiss to your sweat-sheened forehead. “It’s going to be okay. I have a plan.” Suguru’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. He smiled, but there was no emotion behind his eyes, and his voice sounded like it was coated in honey.

His behavior was strange, but helped you to feel more at ease. Suguru gave you some hope to cling on to.

…

8:46 PM (20:46)

You were both sitting on the stairs leading up to the front of the house. You were leaning on Suguru as he brushed a hand over your hair, occasionally placing a kiss on the top of your head. You had finally finished sobbing into Suguru’s chest after an hour, the teardrops staining through his white collared shirt. You felt so many emotions. Anger at the broken system. Hatred, for the Jujutsu Society elders. Confusion, for what would happen once you committed to your plan. Grief, for the people in your life that you would lose. Betrayal, from the society that was supposed to protect people. Suguru sat with you and validated your feelings, making you feel like you and your emotions were the only things in this world that matter.

The plan was simple. You were both going to defect.

Both you and Suguru were sick and tired of the way the world functioned. You were sick of watching comrades, comrades who were teenagers, who were children, die.

During one of your late night conversations, Suguru once said,

“If being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is like running a marathon…

What if what’s at the end of that road…

Is a mountain of our fellow sorcerers’ dead corpses.”

In that moment, Suguru had played it off as some dark joke, but part of you knew that he was right.

As for the plan, you two were to wait until some of the elders of the village led you into the small house, as they apparently kept multiple locks on it to keep the supposed dangerous young girls at bay. Then, you were going to take the young sorcerers on the back of one of Suguru’s curses and run to Kyoto and find somewhere to stay for the night. Suguru said he would “take care of the rest.” You trusted him with your whole being, even if that meant him ending the lives of a few non-sorcerers. It would serve them right for causing the very existence of curses.

…

9:01 PM (21:01)

The two elders from the village arrived shortly after. You took Suguru’s hand and shared a reassuring glance, his thumb rubbing gently over your hand as if to say, it’s going to be okay. Shaking with exhaustion, anxiety, and some of the nausea from earlier, you slowly made your way up the stairs as the elders parted the shoji doors. The building seemed to be one long room with some sort of wooden cage at the end, almost like the house was made to hold animals at some point.

The building was dimly lit, but you could see the outline of two small figures huddled together in the center of the wooden cage. Your stomach turned once again, and you tightly squeezed Suguru’s hand.

“What is this?” Suguru firmly questioned, his free hand going up to brush his bangs away.

The two of you stepped closer to the makeshift prison, and the two small figures were shaking. As you made your way towards the children, they had obviously been beaten. They were covered in dry blood, scratches and bruises. They both had one black eye.

How could these children, these SIX year olds, legally be kept like this? THESE were the scary curse users that were terrorizing this village? It was disgusting.

“My grandchild was on the verge of death because of these two,” spit the woman who led you in.

“These two use strange powers and often attack the villagers.” defended the other man in your presence.

Suguru dropped your hand and squatted down to be at eye level with the girls, pinching his nose bridge between his pointer finger and thumb.

“So you mean to tell me that you monkeys think that these little girls, these children are responsible for the incidents that have been occuring, is that correct?” Suguru grumbled, his voice icy and dangerous.

“I already dealt with the cause of the incidents, they’re innocent children, what is wrong with you people,” you cried. You were full of rage, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

One of the young girls, clutching a well-loved stuffed animal, bravely spoke up and declared, “We didn’t mean to hurt anyone on purpose, they were trying to-”

“SHUT UP YOU MONSTERS!” The elder woman screamed.

“Your parents were the same. I knew we should have killed you when you were born,” the man added.

“Exactly, twins are bad luck. We should have known better,” the elder woman snorted.

Suguru looked down at the girls and whispered something that would not have been obvious to someone who did not know him as well as you did, “It’ll be okay.”

He started drawing a curse from his arsenal of cursed spirits, and gave you a nod. The signal to go ahead with the plan.

That same silky smooth, almost frighteningly nice, voice that Suguru only used when he was especially angry.

“Let’s step outside for a second, shall we?” Suguru tutted, producing the same pink cursed spirit you flew on to get to the village. He walked out the door with the two older adults and shot you a glance.

I’d end the world for you.

It was the same expression he bore when you confessed your love for each other, all of those months ago.

The girls immediately stood up when they sighted the curse. They were terrified, understandably so. You moved towards the thick metal lock of the wooden cage and knelt down.

“Hey girls, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to help. You’re safe. I know it must seem so scary right now, but me and the other man you saw me with are going to get you out of here.”

You told them your name, and assured them that you were like them. Using your piercing blood to cut through the thick lock, you explained to them about your technique and talked to them about your little brother to keep them (and yourself) calm.

As soon as the lock broke, the girls ran to you and hugged you tightly. They were shaking, crying, and clinging to your body. A series of thank you’s flooded from their mouths, and you kissed the top of their heads, attempting to dry their tears away.

“The pink curse over here is going to take us to safety. Suguru, that man who’s talking to them, is also a sorcerer, and he’ll meet us wherever we get to.” you explained.

You sat the girls on the curse side by side, and then climbed in back of them to make sure they did not fall. Using Supernova, you blasted a hole through the roof, and the cursed spirit started to levitate off of the ground. Quickly, you gained altitude and left the village behind. You covered the girls eyes as you looked back, just to see what was happening. The entrance to the house was ablaze and you could make out Suguru’s cursed spirits crawling throughout the village.

Shit. Well, there wasn’t any turning back now.

…

The Next Morning

Overnight, you had flown the girls to a small hostel on the outskirts of Osaka. You purchased a small, private room for the three of you to stay in.

As the sky turned from a deep purple to a ombré of orange and blue, nausea from the previous evening returned in full force. You held yourself over the toilet as you threw up what felt like your entire gut. You stayed like that until you heard four small feet walk into the bathroom behind you.

With the light properly shining on them, you got to see how truly filthy they were. The girl, who called herself Mimiko, had short brown hair that was knotted, matted, and crinkled with dry blood. Her sister, Nanako, was not faring much better. Her blonde curls were also matted, and there was crusted blood left on her forehead. They both were covered from head to toe in bruises, had dark circles around their eyes, and seemed to be alarmingly skinny.

“Um… are you okay?” Nanako asked. You took a deep breath, happy to focus on something other than your churning stomach for a moment.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think it’s just nerves.” You answered.

“Let’s worry about you two, I’ll run you a bath, then we can go to the 7/11 across the way and pick up some food. Sound good?” You declared.

Mimiko’s stomach rumbled. “I think your belly answered for you, Mimiko,” you chuckled softly.

…

While the girls bathed, you went down to the Lost and Found of the hostel and grabbed a few items that looked like they would fit the twins: some hoodies, leggings, and a skirt. You also fixed yourself up, washing the vomit out of your mouth and splashing your face with hot water from the sink.

Once the girls looked decent enough to go outside without raising suspicion, the three of you ventured out to the 7/11 across the street.

The smell of food was a welcome scent as you walked up and down the rows of food, snacks, and other items. You grabbed whatever you thought a few six year olds would like, and on your way to the cashier, something caught your eye. A row of 100 yen pregnancy tests and other feminine care products. Whether it be a metaphorical gut feeling or the actual nausea that had persisted for the last few days, something told you to purchase a stick to pee on, just in case.You snuck the test into the pile of items you and the girls were purchasing.

When the three of you got to the hostel, the girls scarfed their food down, and you tried to take little nibbles and sips of water. You put the twins down for a nap.

You tried your best not to think about Suguru. You didn’t know what to think of him anymore. The man you spoke to the previous night could not have been your boyfriend. The Suguru you knew would never kill without a point. He would never just murder an entire village of people.

You hoped and prayed that you were wrong. That he didn’t actually harm anyone and just showed off his curses to teach the people of the village a lesson.

Wait.

What if he was killed?

It was all so confusing. You loved Suguru. He’s the one person who seemed to have love for you, besides your younger brother.

Noritoshi. A pang of guilt wracked through your frame, heightening the gurgling of your stomach.

If he murdered those non-sorcerers…you would have been deemed an accomplice.

So…

What would he think?

Your baby brother?

Would he be okay?

He’s a boy with an inherited technique in the Kamo clan. But would people look out for him? Would they keep him from your mother as well?

In your spiral of thoughts, you noticed the 7/11 bag on the counter and remembered the supplies you bought earlier that day. You grabbed it as quietly as possible, as to not wake the girls, and stepped into the bathroom, clutching the goods inside. Your hands were shaking from lack of food over the past day and a half, but as carefully as you could, you retrieved the pregnancy test from the bag.

The box was small, but felt so heavy in your hand.

Why not? It probably won’t be positive, you told yourself.

Why do I have to convince myself it won’t be positive, you thought.

You know what, it will get my brain off of Noritoshi and Suguru for a bit, you reasoned, pulling apart the tucked in top of the box.

After you fully unwrapped it, you read the directions, and followed suit. You put the test in the cup on the sink of the bathroom, and walked out to see the clock in the room. You waited five minutes until the results developed.

Wait…this was probably a bad idea.

What were you thinking?

This was so stupid why would you go and do this in the first place?

You needed to get some air, your chest felt tight. You felt the nausea creeping back again.

Suguru, where are you?

You grabbed a room key off of the counter and slowly walked out into the hallway, desperately trying to keep yourself from waking the girls. One of the first things that caught your eye in the hallway was a vending machine.

Maybe some soda would help settle your stomach?

You walked over to the machine and plucked a few coins from your pocket, listening to them clink through the slot. You selected a Ginger Ale and Coke, reasoning that if you didn’t drink it, Suguru would when he got back.

If he got back.

No. You can’t think like that.

You took as long as you could getting back to the room, stepping on every other square of the carpeted floors, trying to ground yourself back to reality somehow. You arrived at the door a few minutes later and opened the door.

The windows in your room were wide open, allowing a little breeze to blow the curtains. You dropped both bottles of soda.

You had locked the windows before leaving the room. You made sure of it.

You panicked, running for the girls to make sure they were okay. Alas, they were sleeping soundly, no new scratches or blood on them.

You turned your attention to the bathroom, where the door was closed and you heard some rustling.

Slowly making your way towards the door, you lined up your piercing blood technique, in case you were about to be attacked.

“Baby, is that you?” you heard from the other side of the door.

“Suguru.” You didn’t know if you should be more frightened or relieved.

Part of you wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and kiss the scratches and dried blood away from him. Other than that, he looked relatively unharmed. His usual neat bun was not apparent on the top of his head, instead he let his hair hang loose, his bangs tied up in a messy half-up-half-down. He was dressed in all black, a dark oversized crew neck and baggy black sweats. As insinuated by the dark bags under his eyes, he didn’t look like he had eaten or slept in the past day or two.

“Whose blood is that? Yours? Or someone else’s.”

“That’s one way to say hello.”

“Answer.”

“Doll, what’s wrong?”

“Suguru, are you okay?”

“My love, I took care of everything. We’ll be safe for the next few days, alright. We just have to lay low for a little while.”

“Suguru, answer me.”

“Shhh, everything is okay, doll. Your body's working overtime right now, and the pregnancy hormones can’t be helping.”

What?

You stared at him. No way.

“That test is your’s, right?” he questioned, his face filled with concern. “It’s positive.”

You stared at him, then at the test. It was.

“I- I’m gonna be a dad,” Suguru’s face cracked into a sincere smile.

He picked you up and spun you around, planting kisses all over your head and face.

“And you’re gonna be a mom! To my baby. Our baby. You’re gonna be the best mommy, you're so good with kids.”

You stayed silent; you were still processing everything that just happened.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he cradled your face gently in his hands.

You stood frozen, thinking of words to say, but they never made it out of your mouth. Your vision went blurry with water, and the churning feeling you had been trying too hard to suppress returned to your stomach. You gagged, running over to the toilet.

As you held yourself over the bowl, your body felt like it was trying to expel all of your organs out through your mouth. Suguru leapt to your side and held your hair back as you threw up, rubbing soothing circles into your back.

“Shhh, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out, this is just one of the best things that’s ever happened.” Suguru cooed.

You took a deep breath and wiped any stray vomit from your lips with the back of your hand.

As you hurled your guts out, you felt his large, warm hand, rubbing circles on the small of your back. The other of his hands went to hold your hair out of your face.

You stayed like that for about an hour, just sitting there, pondering your impending motherhood.

Mother.

You were going to be a mother.

It simultaneously freaked you out and surprised you. Suguru, the person you loved most in this world, actually got you pregnant. Of course he did. He always stuck to his word.

When that man was committed to something, he was going to have it. He was possessive, territorial even. That made him all the more dangerous, but it wasn’t him you were afraid of or for. You were afraid for the rest of the world.

I’d end the world for you.

His promise echoed in the back of your mind.

“Sweetheart, it is going to be okay. I think I may have gotten too overexcited and freaked you out. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, I’m here for whatever you need. But, thank you. Thank you for this precious gift.”

It was a gift that forever linked the two of you together.

…

September 2007

You found her waiting on a bench in the center of Shinjuku, trying to find something in her pockets, probably a lighter for her cigarette.

“Hey, need a light?” Suguru asked, offering out a lighter.

“Hi,” you waved shyly.

“If it isn’t the criminals, trolling girls who smoke?” Shoko replied

“Just testing our luck I guess, '' Suguru joked.

“Mmhmm, well, I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are fake?”

“No, unfortunately not

“Then I’ll ask another question, why?”

“To create a world of only Jujutsu Sorcerers,”

“We don’t want anymore of our comrades to die,” you doubled down on Suguru’s point.

“Ha, that doesn’t make sense, but whatever,” Shoko said, picking up her phone and dialing a number. Someone on the other line answered.

“Hey, Gojo?

Yeah, found ‘em.

Shinjuku.

No way, I don’t wanna get killed.” She said before quickly hanging up.

“Do you have the thing we talked about?” Suguru asked before walking towards the area his best friend was said to be.

“Yes, I’ve got her,” Shoko looked into his eyes,

“Okay, I love you,” Suguru said, placing a kiss on your forehead and walking off.

Shoko put her cigarette out.

“Shoko I’m okay, just, um, okay how do I put this…”

“Dude, spit it out, you're scaring me.”

“I’m pregnant.” you blurted out.

“Shit.” the mousy brunette replied.

“No, it’s okay, really, I’m happy, we’re happy, just…scared - ”

“Did you not use protection? You of all people? The mom friend? Well, now, I guess literal mom friend,” Shoko put her hands in her hair, scrunching it out of stress, “And you’re a fugitive! Both you and Geto have been sentenced to death by the elders. Jesus Christ Y/N, how the fuck are you going to raise a child as a fucking criminal.”

“I’m sorry Shoko, I-I couldn’t,” your last word was muffled by the huge lump in your throat. You knew Shoko of all people would rip you a new one, but you didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Tears clouded your vision, and you were sobbing so violently, that you started to choke on the snot and water running down your face. People were staring.

“Woah, dude. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here now,” Shoko reached down to wipe some of the snot off of your face with the sleeve of her uniform. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up, I have some supplies that I brought in my bag.”

Shoko grabbed your hand and led you into the nearby metro station. You rushed past the crowds of people, until you made your way into the gate. Shoko kept leading you further underground until you reached a room that was sectioned off for mothers and infants.

“Get inside, we shouldn’t be bothered in here for a while,” Shoko stated, her tone gentle. You walked in, and she locked the door behind you.

The room was small, but cozy. There was an infant changing table to the right, and to the left, there was a small blue couch with a table next to it. There were a few blankets packaged in sanitary wrappers laying on the side of the couch, and the room was decorated with pastel flowers all around. You felt completely safe for the first time in a while.

“Sit,” Shoko commanded. You complied and took a seat on the couch.

“I got one of those portable ultrasound things from the infirmary. I don’t know why we have these things but, hey, it’s coming in handy.”

“How did you know to bring an ultrasound kit with you?” you asked suspiciously.

“Oh, Geto told me to bring one. So, I kind of already figured you were pregnant, or you had some kind of internal bleeding. But with the way he was being so secretive, I figured the former.” Shoko replied, fiddling with the machine. It looked like a tiny foldable computer, the probe attached to a wire that fed into the screen.

She KNEW???

“If you knew, then why the fuck did you make me say it out loud?” you demanded.

“Because I needed to be sure this wasn’t a trick or something to kill me,” she shot back, “If ya didn’t know, your boyfriend -”

“Fiancé -”

“Fiancé, whatever, killed an entire village of people.”

“I know, but he did what he had to do. We’re trying to make the world a better place, a place without curses, so you don’t have to keep seeing people die.” You refuted.

“I’m not talking to you about this right now, I’m here to make sure you and the fetus inside of you are okay. You chose your path, and I chose mine. I’m not trying to change your mind, what’s done is done. I don’t support what you two did, but you’re still my best friend. I’m here for you,” Shoko finished and scooched on the couch to give you a hug. You were crying again, fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

After five minutes, you two finally parted, and Shoko reached into her bag to produce some supplies. She pulled out sanitizer, a bottle of gel, a pair of gloves, and a little blue cloth. Shoko sanitized her hands, and gave some to you as well. She then put the pair of gloves on and asked you to pull up your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Finally, she tucked the blue cloth into your pants, so that the gel would not get on it.

“This might feel cold. I also don’t really know if I’m doing this 100% right, so, you should probably find someone with a medical degree and not just reverse curse technique to look at you,” Shoko added, the usual banter reappearing between you two.

She squeezed some of the cold jelly-like substance on your abdomen. You winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Shoko took the end of the probe and started gently pushing it around on your stomach. After about a minute, something appeared on the little screen.

Woah.

That’s your kid. Your and Suguru’s baby. You started crying again.

You loved them already, and only wished Suguru could have been here to see this.

“Yeah, there’s a whole-ass kid in there,” Shoko confirmed.

“As opposed to a half-ass kid?” You joked. Shoko laughed.

Next, Shoko reached into her bag, producing a thick textbook. She turned to a page that was marked by brightly-colored post-it notes.

“Okay, based on this development textbook, you’re probably about 9 to 10 weeks along. Can you use your technique and give me a blood sample fast?”

9 to 10 weeks.

That’s a lot farther along than you thought.

You took a deep breath. “Okay,” and slowly produced a handful of blood from your palm, dropping it with a PLOP into the test tube Shoko held out for you.

“I’ll run a test on this once I get back to the infirmary at school, I just wanna check your hGC levels to make sure they’re good. But in the meantime, start taking these,” she produced yet another item from her bag. “They’re prenatal vitamins. Also, I know Geto has to have some connections somewhere with doctors. Have him find one for you. I can check on you once in a while, but not all the time or it will get suspicious. I love you, but I’m also an eighteen-year-old who doesn’t have a medical degree yet. I’ll leave first with Satoru to make sure there aren’t any sorcerers around so that you and Geto can escape. Stay safe and healthy, please,”

“Safe and healthy, coming from the chainsmoker?” You joked.

Shoko rolled her eyes as she gave you a final hug, exiting the room, leaving you alone with the bag of medical supplies and textbook.

…

Mid January, 2008

As the months passed, you did not think it possible, yet you fell deeper in love with Suguru. He doted on you and the twins constantly, spoiling you with gifts, having his followers help construct a lavish living space for you in the back of the monastery. Mimiko and Nanako shared a large room, their western-style four poster beds were adorned with silks and all of the stuffed animals they could desire. They had large walk-in closets full of dress-up gowns and expensive designer brands.

“Only the best for my girls,” Suguru would say.

As for you, he had a beautiful master suite built, the double walk-in closet filled with comfortable, yet elegant, maternity clothing and a California king bed dwarfing the rest of the room. The walls were painted white with navy and gold accents throughout the room.

When he was not tending to his cult, Suguru also kept you close to him as much as possible. Sometimes, he would even have you sit with him as you both tended to his followers throughout the day, him consuming their curses and you collecting their money.

Though he saw you as an equal, he was still overly protective and territorial of you now that you were carrying his child. He would sit you down on his lap in front of your followers, his hands caressing your now-evident baby bump, proclaiming to both you and the people in the cult that you were a goddess among mere mortals. When the monastery was empty, sometimes he would just sit and hold you, breathing in your scent. You would sit like that for an hour sometimes, him feeling the baby kick against his large palms, trailing kisses up and down your nape. You would curl yourself up as much as you could to put your ear to his chest, his heartbeat drumming with excitement.

When you weren’t helping Suguru, you were with the twins. Playing with them, going on walks, teaching them little things about the world that they missed while living in that cursed village. They were really excited to have a new sibling and talked about all of the clothes they would dress the new baby in. You had to remind them, of course, that the baby was not a doll. They also threw out name suggestions, but you had to tell them that unfortunately, “Princess,” and “Hello Kitty,” were not appropriate names to call their soon to be baby sibling.

At the end of your long days tending to the needs of non-sorcerers that were actually useful to your cause, Suguru would have you both change out of your robes and start to cook dinner while you played with the girls. True, he could have hired someone to cook for your little family, but he wanted to take it upon himself to make sure that you were getting all of the nutrients and rest you and the twins possibly could.

You somehow succeeded in carving out a nice life for yourself under the harshest of circumstances. Sure, it wasn’t the utopia you and Suguru had always imagined all of those nights back at Jujutsu High, but you had a little family of your own and were working towards a better, safer world.

…

After he finished tucking the girls into bed one night, you curled up with Suguru on the couch, your head tucked against his chest, and knees in between his hips, using him as a body pillow. One of his hands was around you and the other was used to cradle his head on the arm of the couch as you both laid there.

None of your pre-maternity pants fit you anymore, so you threw on a pair of Suguru’s gray sweats and a white t-shirt. You practically lived in his clothes at this point.

He started rubbing small, gentle circles on your swollen belly, seemingly in awe of your changing body. If you ever got insecure about your stretch marks, or how much weight you gained, he would make you stand in front of the mirror in your shared chambers, kissing every inch of your body. In the shower, he would take the time to wash your hair and help you shave. He wanted to let you know that you weren’t alone. Suguru was right there the whole time.

You felt a fluttering in your stomach where he was rubbing your belly, and Suguru gasped, breaking the serene silence.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered to your bump. Joy flashed through his tired eyes as his lips curved into a dopey smile. Then, he leaned up to press sweet, wet kisses into your neck.

“The most beautiful woman in the world. How did I get so lucky?” Suguru cooed.

“You’re stunning,” he continued, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss.

Since falling pregnant, you were sensitive to the slightest touch. Your fiancé was sensitive to the slightest glance from you. Your sexual appetites had grown increasingly insatiable.

From his words and kisses, you could feel yourself drenching your underwear. As Suguru’s tongue continued to slither into your mouth, you absentmindedly started grinding against his muscled thigh, the friction feeling delicious on your clit.

“Ngh- Sugu- p-please touch me. No teasing. Need you,” you moaned.

“Do you need my fingers? I bet I can take you right now from how soaked you are,” he purred.

“Don’t care. Want something inside,” you whined.

“Lemme check you first. Don’t wanna hurt you.” And with that, he felt your soaked, clothed cunt through your pants and underwear. You were so wet, that a dark, sticky patch was starting to form on your sweatpants. You nearly ripped the pants off of you in the midst of your carnal need to have some part of him, any part of him, filling you.

Suguru got right to work, stripping you of the layers concealing you from him. After a few circles on your clit, he sunk his middle finger into your cunt. There was no resistance; he was able to sink his finger all the way down to his knuckle. So, he added a second finger, which you took just as easily.

You felt relieved to finally have something for your fluttering hole to suck on, but you needed more. You needed to be stuffed to the brim, completely full of him.

“Suguru I need you inside,” you gasped, your cunt continuing to clench on his thick fingers.

“Whatever you want, my love,” he replied, slipping his fingers out. You almost cried at the loss of contact, but you knew you were about to be rewarded tenfold. Suguru pushed his sticky fingers into your mouth as he rearranged the two of you. You licked his fingers clean, and he let out an unrestrained moan at the way you deepthroated his digits.

Suguru sat you up, and scooted himself against the back of the sofa. He took his length out from his underwear, letting it smack his stomach, the tip weeping precum. Suguru removed his fingers from your mouth and used the remaining spit to cover his cock; a makeshift lube for the two of you. While he stroked himself, you climbed up on his lap and attacked his mouth with fiery, desperate kisses.

He helped you remove your top, and then shed his remaining clothing articles. When he took your top off, you could tell that Suguru’s thoughts about the day had gone out the window. Suguru always had a fascination with your tits, now even more so that your tits had grown at least 2 cup sizes since pregnancy. He took one of your pert nipples into his mouth, sucking softly and grinding up into your wet heat, letting a grunt rumble through his chest.

“Love, please,” you cried out, tears threatening to spill down your face.

With your pleading, he helped you to climb on top of him and lined his cock up with your greedy cunt. You slowly sunk down on his dick, feeling every ridge and vein inside of you. You both hissed as he breached your tight hole.

Finally, you thought.

Suguru resumed his sucking on your nipple, moaning around your soft mound, sending vibrations through your body. You were so overstimulated and sensitive that you felt like you were about to cum right there and then.

He could feel that you were close by the death grip you had on his cock. So, he reached one of his large hands down from your waist and found your clit. You sunk your nails into his wide shoulders in response.

“Give it to me,” Suguru growled on his way to give your other nipple the same treatment.

The coil in your tummy snapped, the sensations driving you hard into your climax. Suguru moved to nibble on your earlobe, whispering what a good girl you were.

As you came down from your high, Suguru’s hands moved down to your bump, staring in awe.

“I told you I love this tummy,” he commented, his large hand splaying across your bellybutton. He pressed his forehead against yours. “I think it’s so beautiful, that your body submitted to mine.”

“Mr. Geto,” you said with a fake gasp, sarcasm dripping from your voice, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re getting off on my predicament, you pervert.”

“Touché,” he smirked. “I think it’s hot your body is going through all of these changes, just because of me. You’re mine,” he growled out the last words.

“I’m yours,” you confirmed.

“Suguru, I’m tired, I don’t know if I have the energy to ride you like this.” You realized he still hadn’t cum yet, he was probably in pain with the deep arousal he felt.

“Okay, I’ll carry you to bed and we can finish there,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and slipped out of you, your juices trailing behind in a sticky string where you were formerly connected

He then picked you up, bridal style, and started the short walk towards your room. The cool air felt sensitive against your hot pussy and swollen clit, your arousal and cum now rolling in small beads down the back of your thighs.

He set you on your side on top of your California king mattress, covered in fine fabric sheets. Then, he took one of the large decorative pillows and pushed it in between your knees to allow him easy access to your cunt. This position would also allow some relief to your aching lower back. Suguru knew you loved it when he massaged your back, so he started there, pushing circles into the sore muscle and kissing up your spine.

His erection rubbed up against the back of your thighs, rendering the both of you delirious.

When you both couldn’t take it anymore, he finally slipped into your warm, wet heat again.

“How would you like me to fuck you, love?” Suguru questioned.

“Slow and deep. Wanna feel all of you,” you drooled.

“Mmm, sounds perfect,” he responded, pressing wet kisses into your neck. With that, Suguru started a long, deep thrust into the depths of your pussy. You felt every part of him; every ridge, every vein. You made a sound that you didn’t even know could come out of you.

Suguru picked up the pace a little bit, leaving little whimpers and groans in your ear as he rutted into you. Suguru was usually pretty reserved during sex, but he recently started to be more vocal for you. It spurred you on even more, made you even more aroused, which felt impossible at this point.

“I love it when you whimper-nGHH,” you moaned, as Suguru punctuated the end of your sentence with a particularly harsh thrust. The sex started to feel desperate, animalistic almost. Suguru felt something primal within him snap. He needed to fill you, to stuff you so full, he would watch his cum leak out of your pussy.

“Suugguuhh-“ you felt your second orgasm of the night closing in on you.

“Cum with me, doll, lemme fill you, ngh, u-up,” he grunted, moving a hand down to toy with your clit. “You look s-so good, full of me. Ngh- your tummy all round, tits all plump, making milk for my m-my baby,”

For some reason, that sent you over the edge, clamping down on his cock and coming hard. Your cunt sucked him in with a firm grip, and you could feel that he was close too. As he continued to fuck you through your climax, his heavy balls slapped once more against your thighs, and he came with a gasp, a series of, “I love you’s” and “Thank you’s” flooding from his mouth.

He fucked himself through his orgasm, and finally collapsed into the mattress. After a few minutes, Suguru pulled out, watching in awe as his release dripped out of your hole. His fingers traveled down to the mess the two of you made and swiped his pointer and middle fingers through your folds.

“I probably sound like a broken record, but I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve you,” he said, kissing the top of your head, moving both of his hands to rest on your bump again.

“C'mon, let’s clean you up, doll,” he said, trying to drag you out of bed. But you were already fast asleep.

Suguru smiled to himself, running to the bathroom to get some warm compresses and clean towels. When he finished cleaning you up as best he could, he made his way to his closet, where he fetched his favorite graphic t-shirt. He handled you with more care than he would a butterfly or a flower as he dressed you, and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up.

After he deemed himself decent enough, Suguru walked over to your sleeping form and bent down to the level where your belly was. He criss crossed his hands and rested his chin on them.

“I love you and your mommy so much, little one. You’re so loved already,” he whispered, reaching one of his hands towards your belly.

Suddenly, he felt a small fluttering beneath his hand. Suguru smiled, his eyes alive with pride and wonder.

…

The next morning, you awoke to the smell of something delicious.

And four little feet running across the floor.

“Shhh, Nanako, you’re gonna wake up Kamo-san,” Mimiko warned her sister.

“It’s okay girls, I’m already up,” you sighed, yawning. “You girls sleep good?”

“Yeah. Can we get crepes today?” Nanako asked, changing topics rather quickly.

“It depends on what time me and Suguru get done at the monastery, but there should be enough time. The baby has been craving some chocolate,” you chuckled.

“I have a new name for the baby,” Mimiko declared, starting to climb on your bed.

“Oh, yeah? What?” You scoop her up and bring her into your lap somewhat successfully.

“Peach. Like the princess,” Mimiko said, matter of factly. She looked down right proud of herself.

“Mimiko, that’s a fruit. I think it should be Sparkles,” Nanako responded back to her sister.

“Well, we’ll have time to think about what the baby’s name should be, but for right now…I think we should eat some breakfast and see who can get dressed the fastest,”

“Geto-san made some breakfast,” Mimiko stated.

“And I helped,” Nanako exclaimed, attempting to have her voice heard in the conversation.

“I helped too,” Mimiko scolded with jealousy.

“Why don’t you girls go help set the table too and I’ll be there in a minute,” you said, pressing kisses to their foreheads.

“Fineee,” Mimiko rolled her eyes playfully.

You freshened up, brushing your teeth and wrapping your body in a luxurious silk robe Suguru had purchased for you.

As you made your way down the long corridor and into the kitchen, you could hear the sizzle of something cooking. You turned the corner to find Suguru, shirtless, standing over the stove of your enormous kitchen. You decide to sneak up on him, letting your finger creep around his waist as you pulled him back into a hug. You couldn’t press yourself flush against him, as your stomach got in the way.

“There’s my girl,” Suguru cooed.

“You’re making breakfast?” You beamed with tears in your eyes at the stack of American-style pancakes next to the stove. For some reason, this small gesture was making you really emotional.

“Of course, baby. I let the chef take off this morning to spend some time with my beautiful girls before I have to head over,” he replied, snaking his arm back to grab on to yours and place a kiss on your palm.

It was so domestic. It was so normal.

“Okay, order’s up. Mimi, Nana, will you help me put these on the table?” Suguru asked.

“Yes Geto-san,” Mimiko sang as she skipped towards the tower of the fluffy, golden deliciousness.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Suguru whispered, giving her hair a ruffle.

…

After the pancakes were eaten, and the syrup had ended up on the faces of the twins and Suguru, you pried the girls out of their seats to get dressed for the day. You and Suguru headed back to your quarters to change into your robes.

As you let the luscious silk fabric cascade off of your body as down to the floor of your shared closet space, you felt the presence of your fiancé behind you.

“Hi,” he smirked into your shoulder, starting to press kisses up your neck.

“Hi,” you whispered back.

One of his large hands reached down to your bump, caressing it with the lightest of touches.

“Can I listen to her?” He asked like a giddy child.

“My love, you never have to ask, you’re always welcome to,” you beam as he excitedly makes his way towards your protruding bump. “Baby’s been hanging out towards the bottom today if you want to feel them move,” you added.

“Hi baby girl, this is your da-”

“Baby girl? What makes you think the baby's a girl?”

“What makes you think she’s not?” he quipped, his usual banter-like tone making you giggle.

“As a wise man once said to me; touché.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, soaking in each other’s presence. After all, slow moments like this would be rare when the baby arrived.

Your peace was disrupted by a loud knock at the door.

“Geto-sama, Kamo-san, there is someone here to see you, he says it is urgent” you heard Suguru’s assistant shout through the door.

“Tell whoever it is that they have no right to request my presence. I will meet with them when I am in my proper attire,” Suguru snapped.

“Of course, master. It’s just… this kid…”

“No exceptions, I don’t care if it’s Satoru fucking Gojo himself, whoever it is can wait,” Suguru pressed, getting annoyed now.

“Yes, of course, I wi-AHHHHHH,” a blood curdling scream erupted from the other side of the door, followed by a loud thump.

Sensing danger, Suguru leapt into action, putting himself in front of you and summoning a curse. “Who’s. There,” he demanded.

Blood started to leak under the door and into the marble tiles of your room.

Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal the collapsed assistant on the floor, covered in her own blood. Next to the body, there was the figure of a small boy drenched in the scarlet substance.

“Noritoshi?” you questioned, tears filling your eyes.

…

END OF PART I

dividers by @bunnysrph

#geto #jjk #jjk geto #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen fic #suguru smut #suguru geto smut #suguru x you #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #jjk spoilers #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #fem reader

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wardenparker · 16 hours

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 11

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 14.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Marcus Pike the Breeding Kink King, a dash of dirty talk, the tiniest whiff of roleplay, sexual activity in a public place, cum eating. False accusations of cheating, gossip rags being gossipy, descriptions of getting a tattoo (needle mention). Summary: The end of your trip to Texas comes with a few surprises, and a meeting with your mother goes far better than expected. But good things do not guarantee paradise forever. Notes: Hi my lovelies! I do apologize for the spotty posting timeline lately. My health has been inconsistent to say the very least and continues to be unpredictable. Thank you for bearing with me and always being so incredibly supportive. I'm certain that I missed fixing some errors in this chapter, but I blame the migraine I've have for the last 10 days. Enjoy this week's chapter!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

The last night you and Marcus are in Texas comes after an afternoon-long barbecue that somehow manages to outdo every barbecue of every previous day. You're pretty sure that you've been nibbling constantly since sunrise but rather than being overwhelmed, you're just sorry that you're going to have to leave tomorrow and not see most of these people again for a long time.

The water in Marcus's hand is for you and he comes over to drop a kiss on your lips as he presses it into your hand. "Band is starting at seven." He tells you. "Do you want to shower beforehand?"

"Probably should." There's mischievousness in your agreement, though, and you tuck a smirk in the corner of your mouth as you take the water from him. "I saved my cutest top for tonight. To be the very best groupie I can be."

"Oh really?" He chuckles at how eager you have been to meet his old bandmates. "I like groupies." He smirks, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you close. "Really like them."

"Do you want to show me how much?" You ask, letting that smirk loose but keeping your voice very quiet even when you bat your eyelashes at him.

"I can do that while we shower." He groans wickedly, winking at you. "Unless you want to save that for after the show?"

"No need to save," you assure him easily, drinking down half of the glass of cold water he brought you and letting your grin grow wider. "There will be hours in between. We can do both."

"Insatiable." He grins back and you, wrinkling his nose slightly and proud about that fact. "I love it."

"C'mon." Grabbing his hand, you head for the house with a bitten back grin. Back inside and upstairs to his room – now appropriately defiled by the fact that you're in that Early Relationship Honeymoon Period and horny as hell – to add his childhood bathroom to the list of places you've fucked on this property.

Marcus smirks when there’s a number of suggestive whistles that ring out. Everyone here aware of how eager the two of you are and he gives a halfhearted wave before disappearing. You might be embarrassed if you cared at all, but his cousins have been nothing but welcoming and accepting. They all seem to share the opinion that Marcus has waited too long to meet his match and you are more than happy to be the one that they have welcomed as their cousin – or nephew or son's – perfect match.

“I love them all, but I need to get you alone.” Marcus huffs as he practically races over to the stairs.

"Alone, naked, and wet, I hope." You're on the stairs just ahead of him, the advantage of one or two steps meaning your ass is right in his face as you hustle up to the second floor.

"How wet you are depends on how good of a job I do turning you on." He can't help himself, reaching out and slapping your ass, something you love if your delighted giggle is anything to go by. "How wet are you?"

“Wet enough that if you even touch me over my clothes, I’m going to moan,” you admit, glancing back at him when you reach the top of the stairs.

"Promises, promises." Marcus reaches out and cups your pussy from behind, jumping up the last two steps to press close to you. "Fuck, I love you." He growls into your ear as he rubs your clit.

“Oh fuck—” Maybe it’s more of a whine than a groan but the arousal in your voice is unmistakable. Pressed between Marcus and the wall, your hips rock to get as much pressure and friction from his hand as absolutely possible. “I—I love you too, baby. Fuck.”

"Shower." He orders softly, pulling away from you reluctantly. He knows he can't fuck you in the hallway and his cock is already pressing against his shorts.

Since the discovery of your interest in a more submissive role sexually, you and Marcus have been enjoying playing with the dynamic. Soft orders for things that he knows will bring you both pleasure. Seeing how well you follow his instructions while he’s inside of you in any way. Right now you move with long strides to get to the shower as quickly as possible, already shedding your clothes along the way.

Smirking as he watches the rushed strip show, Marcus pulls his own shirt over his head. He's never had someone so enthusiastic for his touch and it's honestly its own kind of high. Plenty of women wanted him, but not with the hunger that you constantly display. He can only hope that it never changes. "So sexy." He huffs, unbuttoning his shorts to step out of them as he follows you.

“Oh yeah?” As soon as the water is on, you glance back over your shoulder and throw him the most tantalizing glance you can possibly summon. “Come and show me how much.”

“Fuck.” He hisses and immediately rushes forward to crowd into the shower with you, pressing kisses to your back as he folds in closer to you.

Marcus might be testing the waters with how dominant he’s comfortable being, but he still likes it when you show him how much you want him. When you hum at the feeling of his hands on your skin or moan deep in your throat at the perfect kiss. He even loves moments like these, when you whimper at the way his large hands spread over your body to hold you as close to him as you can possibly be without him being inside you.

“Love you.” He whispers into your skin, not wanting you to forget it in the two seconds since he has said it last.

“I love you, too.” Pressed into that little space together, you twist your head around to kiss him and then lean forward against the wall. There aren’t too many comfortable ways to fuck standing up under falling water, but having him press into you from behind is good no matter where you are.

His hands slide over your body and one sinks between your thighs. Immediately parting enough for his hands with a quickness than has him smiling. “You like when I finger you?” He teases. “Rub your sensitive little clit for you?”

“I like every way you touch me.” Your hips roll as if to prove it, searching for the right angle to get his thick fingers to sink inside of you.

“Greedy.” He chuckles softly. “That’s what you are.” He doesn’t pull his hand away, giving you what you want as two fingers slip inside you. “My greedy girl.”

“Can’t blame me for getting addicted.” You moan, forehead pressed against the tile, when his fingers scissor open inside you. “You feel so fucking good baby.”

“You feel better.” He groans quickly, working you open as the hot water rushes over you.

“Made just for you, baby.” If there was ever anyone you could truly feel that about, it’s Marcus. The way he seems to make you feel complete in ways you didn’t know you needed or even wanted is uncanny and beautiful. And the way he fills you to bursting is just as fantastic.

Marcus worships you with small kisses as his fingers move inside you, groaning in your ear about how good you feel. The thick length of him pressed against your ass. “Marcus—” His name is a whine and a prayer with every long stroke of his fingers. “Please, baby. Please fuck me.”

“I’m going to.” He promises, grinding against your ass as he continues to finger you. “Too bad you still have your birth control.” He moans in your ear. “Dreamed about you pregnant last night. Nice and round with my baby.”

“Fuck.” If anyone had suggested pregnancy or breeding or any of those fertility-related kinks to you before Marcus, you might have laughed them out of your bedroom. But in a few short weeks, you’ve got from wanting children but not looking forward to being pregnant — all the way to getting wet at the thought of starting to swell with Marcus’s baby. The impulse to promise you’ll stop taking it tomorrow is right on the tip of your tongue but you know it’s just a touch too soon. “Yeah?” You breathe instead. “You woke up hard to the thought of fucking me full of your baby?”

“Why do you think I was ravenous this morning?” He asks, chuckling at how he had woken you up. He had been a little embarrassed by the dream, so he hadn’t mentioned it at the time, but realized later that it was dumb to keep it from you. “When you’re ready, I’m going to be feral.”

“We need to start building that house now.” You insist, suddenly possessed of a whole new set of reasons to be eager for more privacy.

He chuckles as he nibbles on your shoulder, moving to the hollow of your neck. “Yeah? You want to paint a nursery right away baby?”

“We’re gonna have to if you keep growling about getting me pregnant.” Something which you apparently find far sexier than you anticipated, if the way your cunt throbs and pulses around his fingers is any indication.

"You love the idea." He challenges softly, humming against your pulse. "It's not my fault you're so perfect I can see the future we have in store."

“I love the idea so much I’m ready to say let’s just buy a house.” The throaty laugh you let out burns into a long moan when he curls his fingers inside you. “Need you, baby.”

"Never want you to say that I don't give you what you want." He pushes your feet apart, careful not to let you slip on the slick tile and pulls his fingers out of you to immediately replace them with his cock. A smooth transition planned to keep you from missing the fullness.

There is more freedom here, at least where volume is concerned, and when your moan bounces off the tile it is music to Marcus's ears. The utterly satisfying fullness of having him inside you is indescribable, even if you have tried to find the words several times talking to Syd. Sharp, powerful strokes will work you both up to your peak quickly, letting you enjoy the water that burns as hot as your skin as he pounds into you.

Marcus has learned that going harder is needed sometimes. It’s something that both of you enjoy and lose yourselves in, always making sure that you are still with him with filthy sweet praises in your ear. “My perfect princess.” He groans. “Taking me so well.”

It’s so much filthier coming from such a sweet, unassuming man like Marcus, and he presses you into the wall with a firmness that leaves absolutely no room for questioning. You are his. He is yours. And anything you moan to each other in the throes of passion is fair game. Filth, praise, and everything in between is welcome as your hips slap against your ass and your throat strangled around the endless cries of pleasure.

It’s never been this good. It’s cliched to even think it, but it’s true. He can barely even breathe when you are surrounding him. Drowning in you happily. “Fuck, I love you.” He promises. His hands squeeze and caress before sinking back between your thighs to rub your clit while he continues to fuck you at a frantic pace.

“Love you so — fuck! — so fucking much.” You practically claw at the wall of the shower when the calloused pads of his fingers find your swollen clit and press in on tight circles. Perfect little circles. “So close baby, so fucking close.”

“That’s it.” He groans. “Want you to cum. Want you to soak me. Need it.” He dips his hips lower and changes the angle that he shreds up inside you.

“Fuck—fuck—can’t wait until you’re fucking me full of your babies, oh god—” He’s already an expert at tearing you apart and putting you back together, and this time will be no exception. Your legs shake with it and your belly tightens, coiling at the base of your spine tightening as pleasure rips through you.

“That’s it, fuck, so good, Princess.” He hisses in pleasure. “Cum for me. Fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock. I love it.” It only takes two or three more sharp snaps of his hips before you’re calling his name, sure that if anyone else is in the house right now they can definitely hear you but too overcome with pleasure and too full of him to care.

When you cum, it’s like your entire soul melt with his. Your heartbeats align and for a split second, Marcus can’t tell where you end and he begins. Perfectly fused together in ecstasy. As soon as you tighten around him, his thrusts ease, still moving but helping you float down from the precipice. “Good girl, fuck baby, you are so good to me.” He pants in your ear. “So good. Giving me everything, aren’t you? Yeah, you are, I can feel it.”

“Fill me up, baby.” Your legs may be rubber at this point but that sensation of his cum painting your inner walls is worth holding out for. It has you rocking your hips back even more than you need to ride the aftershocks of your own orgasm, hoping to bring him to his.

He loves when you say that. Groaning your name as his pace picks back up. The slap of his hips not quite as sharp, but insistent. “Gonna, fuck baby, gonna fill you up.” He moans in your ear. “Drip me all night.”

From the way his hips start to stutter you know he’s close, and you grind back against him with a low moan. “Gonna be dripping your cum while I meet all your friends.”

“Just the way I want you.” He groans, kissing your shoulder and moaning as he pushes deep, throbbing inside you as he fills you up.

There’s nothing but the sound of running water and panting breath for a minute or two as you both collect yourselves, arms wrapped around each other in the best way you can manage while he’s still inside you and you’re leaning on the shower wall. “I love you so fucking much.” You murmur, giggling softly at the giddy feeling still coursing through your veins.

“I love you too.” He whispers, smiling against your shoulder as the soft aftershocks continue to squeeze him as he softens inside you. “Addicted to everything about you.”

“Glad we agree about that.” It isn’t elegant but you twist around and manage to place a kiss on his jaw. “So…breeding kink, huh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles sheepishly as he slowly pulls out of you. “Sorry. I know that took you by surprise.”

“Not in a bad way.” You promise him, fully turning around now, to put your arms around him before you both have to clean up. “Surprising but…potentially shared?”

“When it actually happens is still one hundred percent up to you.” He assures you, wanting you to know he would never pressure you, no matter how much he dreams about the future. “But shared, huh?”

“Surprise,” you tease, reaching for a washcloth.

“Every day is an adventure with you.” He chuckles and steals another kiss before he turns his attention to getting ready for tonight.

You’re right on time despite taking an overlong shower, arriving at the club in downtown Dallas in time to see a group of his old friends gathered at the bar.

“Hey.” A carefree grin lights up his face, reunited with old friends and their spouses. The band is about to leave to get on stage so it’s quick backslaps and promises to catch up later after he introduces you proudly. They disappear and it seems like all the other crowd around you to all talk about Marcus.

It’s much the same as it was with his cousins. Quick questions about you — or the occasional “That’s why I recognize you!” — but mostly wanting to tell stories about young Marcus in the olden days, teasing their old friend and gauging your reaction to their stories to decide if you’re good enough for him. You don’t mind of course. Your friends would have done the same if they hadn’t already met Marcus before you got together.

“Hey now.” Marcus pouts and protests but it’s all in good fun. He’s enjoying the stories; taking him back down memory lane. He hugs you tighter to him as he laughs at a college age story, where he had imbibed a little too much and made a fool of himself.

“Everyone got drunk and dumb in college at least once, didn’t they?” You hug his side and grin at him while his friends tease and chatter. “And I’m sure you weren’t the only college student in the world to skateboard across campus in boxers and a cowboy hat. I’m just impressed you didn’t fall off the board more if you were drunk.”

“Hammered.” He confirms with a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know if I would have felt anything that night.”

“All the better that you didn’t get hurt then,” you laugh with him, enjoying these glimpses into the Marcus of the past. “Though I think we should recreate the look. For posterity.”

“Bachelor party.” He grins, leaning in and kissing you on the nose. “One of those boring co-ed ones where the couple is disgusting and can’t be apart for even one night of debauchery.”

“Cause we’re gross in love.” The smile on your face is blinding, lighting you up from the inside out as you beam at him.

“Yes we are.” He agrees, unable to stop himself from kissing you again, as his friends groan playfully around you both.

“Yeah, yeah.” Marcus’s old college roommate huffs good naturedly and rolls his eyes. This is the guy Marcus had lived with before he moved off campus to live with Lara and he’s always known Marcus Pike to be exceptionally lucky in love. “Lucky bastard.”

“I am.” He agrees with a small nod. “I’m honestly surprised that you aren’t already engaged.” One of his closest college study partners snickers as she shoots you a grin. “He always was rushing into things headfirst.”

“Don’t think he didn’t give me a ring right away,” you joke, holding up the shimmering promise ring on your hand. “But we want to keep our heads on straight, so it’s a promise for now and an engagement a little bit into the future.”

“There’s the Marcus we know and love.” She giggles, taking your hand and admiring the ring. “Honey, it’s gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it?” The little heart-shaped diamonds wink and shine in the dim lighting of the club and you can’t help but smile proudly. “I told him he set a dangerous precedent with this one. If the promise ring is this beautiful then the engagement ring has to be, too.”

“Knowing Marcus, it’s perfectly designed to set with your promise ring.” She guesses, grinning wildly when he shuffles guiltily. “I knew it!” She throws her arm around his shoulder and smacks a playful kiss on his cheek. “Atta boy!”

“You did not buy it already!” You gasp in shock, giggling with unrestrained joy at the embarrassment and glee on his face.

“It’s safe.” He promises, shrugging slightly. “I didn’t want to risk them not having the perfect mate when I came back.”

“You’re incorrigibly sweet.” The idea that he’d gone so out of his way makes you melt on the spot, with warmth in your cheeks and a fluttering extra beat of your heart. “And I love you.”

His group of friends cheers when you kiss this time. For all the shit they give him, they are all thrill Marcus has found his sweet soulmate. Right then, the lights dim and everyone turns towards the stage. “Marcus Pike.” His eyes widen when the lead singer says his name. “Report to the stage. There is a bass waiting to be played.”

“Oh fuck yes!” When you squeal with absolute pure excitement you grab his side and practically cackle with glee. Even Agent Bailey is smirking in her plain clothes. “Go, baby! Go!”

“Oh my Gooooood.” Marcus groans as he’s practically shoved towards the stage and he shakes his head, pointing his finger at the band. “I hate you guys.” He moans, even as he shuffles closer, but they just grin.

“Best night ever!” You call back, grinning from ear to ear as you make your way to the front with his friends.

“This is going to be amazing.” Hooking her arm through yours, Stephanie grins at you. “Have you ever heard Marcus sing?”

“No.” And you pout about it for about two seconds before the glint returns to your eyes. “He always demurs and says he’s not that great but I know he’s being humble.”

Marcus shrugs out of his leather jacket and winds the strap of the bass around his neck and back to quickly strum a chord before adjusting the tension to his liking. “I’m going to hurt all of you.” He huffs, even if he’s grinning out at you.

“You fucking love us.” The lead singer, his old friend Leo, reminds him with a shit-eating grin.

Marcus rolls his eyes and huffs, not even able to deny it. “Which songs are we doing?” He asks instead.

“Set list is next to your pedal,” Leo tells him, grin only growing bolder when Marcus doesn’t deny anything. He knows his old friend misses playing. They’ve talked about it. Hence this silly little stunt. “Just like riding a bike, right Pike?”

He snorts and looks out at the crowd, his eyes automatically finding you and he smiles. “Yeah.” He scoffs. “If riding a bike means embarrassing the shit out of yourself in front of your soulmate.”

“It absolutely fucking does, dude.” Leo laughs, slapping Marcus on the back before he steps up to the mic to hype up the already excited crowd.

Marcus winks at you from the stage and looks at the lineup. Most of them are songs that they performed when he was in the band and quite a few that he knows Leo knows he knows. Apparently this wasn’t just a last minute deal. As Leo introduces the band, Marcus starts the bass chords for the first song.

It’s not the night you were planning — swaying to the music with Marcus with a cold beer in your hand while his friends played. This is infinitely better. Marcus is in his element up on that stage, showing off and playing to the crowd and making sure he finds your eyes every so often. Surrounded by friends and an enthusiastic audience, you could see Marcus enjoying many more nights like this. It makes you all the more glad that his friends decided to surprise him.

The crowd is a mix of older and younger people, the songs favorites and he enjoys the energy of the people singing along. Finally finished and sweating, in desperate need of a beer, he grins when you clap and yell.

"You are absolutely incredible." The second he hops down off the stage; you're practically jumping into his arms to give him a kiss. "And I never, ever want to hear anything about your singing voice again. That might be the sexiest singing ever."

He laughs, catching you easily and spinning you around. “Think you might be a little biased, Princess.” He teases, feeling euphoric and like he could do anything tonight.

"So?" The giggle that bubbles out of you is nothing short of adrenaline-infused joy. "I'm still right."

“Shit.” The laughter is infectious and he joins you. “I need a beer.” He admits, squeezing you close.

"Allow me." You insist, and when he makes a face you hold up a hand, still grinning. "Groupie's privilege."

“Groupie, huh?” He chuckles again and slides his hand down to your ass. “You have someone in mind?”

"Yeah," you poke his side and laugh, wiggling the fingers of your other hand in his face. "The one wearing the ring."

“Ring?” He glances at your hand and smirks. “That’s a pretty ring baby, but I could do better.” He flirts. “Dump that guy and run away with me. I’ve gotta sweet van and I know how to treat a lady.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"You think you can do better for me than my soulmate?" Batting your eyelashes back at him and half playing along, you tug Marcus toward the bar to get him his drink. "He's pretty amazing."

“I know I can.” He snorts, grinning at your playful banter. “You’ve never been with a musician baby.”

"Hmmm." An amused hum barely smothers your grin and laughter. "I have heard that bassists are experts with their fingering."

“Then you know.” He nods as you both slide up to the bar and Marcus orders a draft. He turns back to you. “My fingers are magic, baby.” He promises. “I can take you to the stars.”

It's too hard for you not to giggle at that, leaning into his side there at the bar. "I did know that already, though."

He breaks the character he was putting on and winks at you. “I was merely playing my favorite instrument.” He leans in and whispers in your ear. “Your pussy.”

"Marcus." Your tone is very false in its admonishment, and you're still grinning when you swat at his arm. "You can play her any time you like."

“Now?” He arches a brow in challenge.

You should have known he would jump on it, and you tilt your head at him with a wide-eyed expression. "I mean...not here but..." Glancing around the room proves that there is little cover to be found, and you bite your lip. "Bathroom?"

Marcus smirks and nods to the bartender when he sets his drink down. “Come on.” He takes your hand and drags you away, unable to even drink his beer in his haste to make you cum.

Practically able to feel the heaviness of Agent Bailey's eyes tracking you across the club, you can't bring yourself to care. Not when the promise of his hands on you is so close you can already feel it.

Normally, Marcus would never do this. Not now. But somehow, being with his own friends and playing, seems to have tapped into the wilder side he had exposed when he was younger. Not thinking like an FBI agent at this moment.

The club has two single-occupant bathrooms in a back hallway, and Marcus shoves open the door to the nearest one to tug you inside. "Holy shit." You're giggling again, bubbling over with it. "We're so lucky Agent Bailey trusts you."

“Amazing what a background check and a security clearance will get you.” He jokes as he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He knows he can’t be in here too long with you, it would be rude, but he has to touch you right now. You are just adoring him too much.

It's almost too bad you wore jeans tonight, but you had wanted to keep that feeling of fullness after the shower and truth be told the denim inseam still managed to give you a little stimulation on the way out here tonight. Now Marcus pops the top button open with eager fingers and you whimper softly, biting back the sound so no one in the hall outside hears you.

“Gotta be quiet, Princess.” He coos, smirking at your already lust blown eyes. “Can’t let anyone know you’re fucking a musician in a bathroom, can you?”

You’ve never done anything like this before and he knows that, but with wide eyes and the shivering desire to obey, you nod your head and bite back a needy whine. His hand slides down your panties, finding you slick with new desire and the remnants of his cum covering your lips. He groans your name in your ear and immediately pushes two fingers deep inside you.

It takes effort not to cry out. Not to whimper or moan or keen his name at the sharp, sweet intrusion of two thick fingers deep in your pussy. The vaguely taboo tint of doing something sexual in a public place only makes it better — a surprising feeling that you’ll have to bite for later — and you bury your face in the crook of Marcus’s neck, knowing that it will muffle the little bit of sound that you simply can’t swallow in your own throat. He doesn’t draw it out, doesn’t tease you. Just pumping his fingers deep and twisting his wrist to rub your clit as he tries to see how fast he can make you cum for him.

It’s like being sent up in a rocket, where all you can do is lean back against the sink in the little bathroom and hold on tight. He knows your body, knows how to make you see stars without breaking much of a sweat, and the adrenaline from playing on stage that’s still coursing through him keeps the pace of his fingers thrusting inside you at an almost punishing speed that feels amazing.

It’s like his playing a song with your body. The soft whimper echoing the timing of the beat of his fingers. Kissing along your neck as he pants against your skin. Already throbbing in his pants, but this is for you. “Good girl, baby. You’re so sweet for me.” He groans quietly.

There's not really much you're doing for him right now except keeping quiet and spreading your legs so he can dive inside you, but you'll fix that later. You'll lay him out on his bed and worship him for as long as he will let you. Right now your back arches and you have to let go of your white knuckle hold on the counter in order to tug him closer, pouring the moan that you want to let loose into a kiss instead.

He feels when you let go. Your moan muffled by your tongue as your walls soak his fingers in their pulsing grip. Feeling your heartbeat through the sensitive walls of your pussy. It’s so good and he loves that you are enjoying yourself as the bar music plays loudly.

"Fucking hell..." When you can finally breathe again you look up him with a hazy smile. "I'm gonna give you the best blow job of your life later on," you promise him with a grin.

He smirks as he pulls his wet fingers out of your fluttering cunt and holds them up to the dim light of the bathroom. They are shiny with your slick and he reaches out to your lips. “Open.” He orders.

That was not at all the response you were expecting, but somehow it far sexier because of that, and even though you've just cum you can feel your pussy fluttering at what he wants you to do. It only takes a second before you open your mouth, letting him put his fingers heavily on your tongue before you obediently clean them of any trace of your slick.

Marcus groans quietly, cock twitching in his pants and all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink to fuck you this time, but he can’t. You pop his fingers out of his mouth and he hisses at your innocent look. “Good girl.” His voice is raspy and dripping with lust.

"I feel like I should start calling you something." Leaning up, you steal a kiss and then rebutton your jeans so the two of you can wash up and go back out to his friends. "But I don't know if you wanted to be that kind of dom."

Marcus chuckles as he watches you in the mirror. “So you’re telling me you want a red room in our new house, hm?”

"I'm not gonna be mad about it if you want one," you answer innocently. "I just had the very intense urge to call you...'daddy' a second ago, but I didn't know if you'd like it. That's all."

Marcus has never been in a situation where someone would call him daddy so he has to think about it. “Only one way to find out.” He decides, patting you on the ass as you move out from the sink so he can wash his hands.

"I guess we'll give it a try later then." The air dryer in the bathroom is loud enough to drown out any other conversation, so you finish cleaning up and steal yet another kiss before dragging him back out into the club feeling like you're living on Cloud Nine.

Everyone in the group knows what happened when the two of you disappeared. At least to some degree. They might not believe that it was only an orgasm for you, but the grins are wide and Marcus snorts at the whistling and clapping from the guys. You brush it off with burning hot cheeks and a grin and go to get fresh drinks from the bar. Tonight has been pretty fucking perfect in every way you can think of. The best possible way to say goodbye for now to Texas, although you know you'll be back as often as you can be.

Marcus accepts this beer quickly, feeling parched and he winks at you before he takes a sip. “I think she might want me to find a band in D.C.” he teases.

"Oh, ya think?" Stephanie snorts, leaning into Leo's side when he comes over to join you at a high-top table.

"Actually..." Leo smirks, looking down at his soulmate before he glances up and around the group. "The guys know this already but...there was a big reason we were glad Pike showed up tonight." He tips his beer toward Marcus in salute. "Tonight was the last Dallas show we might ever play."

“Really?” Marcus frowns instantly, looking around to the group. “You guys are gonna stop playing?”

"We're moving in about a month." Leo announces. His arm winds around Stephanie proudly and he squeezes her tight to his side. "Steph got an amazing job at George Washington Hospital. So we're actually moving to DC."

“What?” Marcus sputters and starts beaming. “That’s great!”

"I'm really excited," she admits, smiling even bigger and brighter than Marcus is. "So maybe you won't have to find a new band after all."

“Well, we’d still have to find other members.” He look at the guys. “Until you come out to visit.”

"Maybe we'll all move East." Their drummer, Clark, jokes. He takes a sip of his whiskey and leans on the table. "Y'all know anyone that needs an electrician or a carpenter? I could be persuaded."

“We’re gonna be building a house.” Marcus snorts. “You’re hired.” He’s joking, because he would never make that decision without you, but it’s interesting to think about. Clark is the best damn carpenter he knows.

"Actually..." Tilting your head to look at Marcus beside you, you shrug your shoulders a little and have a sip of your drink. "There's some work that needs to get done at the inn, too. I've been putting it off because my electrician retired last year and finding a new guy is a pain."

His brows lift in surprise and Clark smirks. “Really, tell me about it.” He encourages.

"It's a historical property," you clarify right away, knowing that that scares some people off. Which is fine with you, really. If they aren't comfortable working on historical structures, you're not going to work with them anyway. "Of course things have been updated, but the structure is colonial so it does require a little bit of tender loving care."

“That’s awesome.” Clark snorts. “I love historic structures. Have you rewired the entire building or are you having to replace as you uncover issues?” He asks. “Code has changed so much since knob and tube. And that’s recent in a historic home, depending on how historic.”

"I've only owned the property for a few years, so we're having to play catch up from the previous owner." His enthusiasm is met with plenty of your own, and you look back at Marcus with a wide grin. "You just watch how fast I adopt all your friends. I was not exaggerating about that being what my family does."

Marcus laughs and leans back. “Adopt away, babe.” He encourages you. “You’ll get sick of them quickly.” He teases, laughing again when they all shoot him a finger.

Two days after touching back down in DC, the early morning meeting that you have with your mother and the communications staffer whose job it is to wrangle all things concerning the First Kids means that you’re up and moving before Marcus. You’re essentially having breakfast at the White House, which is less cozy than having coffee and muffins with your soulmate, but this meeting is important. You really do have things to talk to your mother about.

The staffers show you to the less formal dining rooms in the apartment, a rare time the president allows business to be conducted here, but it’s important that you feel comfortable.

The family dining room in the White House residence is still beautiful, and honestly you prefer it to the larger state dining room. The smaller and more casual room makes it easier to convince yourself that it’s just a normal breakfast with your mother today. Agent Bailey blends into the background here, noticeably more relaxed when she is around other agents and not working solo. It’s a good morning for both of you, and you move to the sideboard in the room to make yourself a cup of coffee while you wait for your mother to come in.

The communications staffer comes in and greets you warmly, laying out folders by the plates. “Your mother should be here in a few minutes. She was just in a briefing.”

“How are you, Annette?” The senior staffer that’s joining you is a woman that you’ve known for years. She was also on your mother’s staff in Pennsylvania and she is a good friend of the family after so many years working side by side.

“I’m doing well, how about you?” She asks politely and gives you a warm smile. “Your mother told me about your soulmate, I’m so thrilled for you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you.” There’s going to be a lot more talk about Marcus as this goes on if your mother and Annette accept your proposal, but for now you sip your coffee and smile. “The adjustment to DC hasn’t been too bad for you? Everything’s been okay?” A little small talk before your mother comes in and breakfast gets served is actually nice. With everyone being so busy you feel like there are people you haven’t gotten to talk to in ages.

“It’s always crazy, but we are adjusting well.” She smiles. “Brad isn’t too fond of the traffic, but who is?” She snorts. “I keep threatening to steal a diplomatic plate.” She jokes.

"I'll nab them for you," you promise her, sitting back with your coffee and smiling at the way your promise ring glints in the room's lighting. "They can't fire me from being First Daughter."

She laughs, knowing that you are completely joking but it would be funny to see the headlines. “I’ll expect one then.” She teases, picking up her own coffee to sip.

It takes a few more minutes before your mother comes in, but you and Annette sit and chat and pour second (or third, in your case) cups of coffee.

“I’m sorry, Birdie, Annette.” Your mother rushes over to drop a kiss on your head and throw her arms around her friend’s shoulders briefly. “That took longer than I expected.”

“Everything okay?” You’re wildly aware that there is plenty that your mother deals with that you do not have the security clearance to know about, but that isn’t what you’re asking. You’re asking if your mother herself is okay.

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “But I wish that people would stop trying to impress me with long winded reports going over every minute detail.” She huffs with a laugh. “My favorite briefing is from DIA Agent York. He gives me the bare bones information and it’s over in less than five minutes.”

“Would he consider it a blessing or a curse to be out on the State dinner guest lists in appreciation for his speedy briefings?” You ask, practically snorting a laugh at breakfast is served.

“Knowing the kind of man he is, a curse.” She snorts, appreciating your joke but also because she would never willingly let a man like Dave York around her family unless he was protecting them.

“Well, it’s nice to know that the chaos around here is just normal chaos.” The smile you offer your mother is fully understanding. The inn is your own beautiful area of normalized chaos.

“Of course. Thank you for coming.” She acknowledges that her life, her career isn’t the center of her children’s lives and she doesn’t take for granted when they make time for it outside the normal Friday night dinners. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mom.” An early morning meeting is a small sacrifice to make, especially when Marcus exhausted you last night trying out a sexy little card game you’d had stashed away since Syd’s bachelorette party a couple of years ago. It’s safe to say he liked the suggestions the game came up with. “There’s coffee, amazing food, and my favourite Mom, why wouldn’t I come? Although Marcus’s mother is pretty great. Solid second place in the Best Mom Ever competition.”

“I wanted to ask you how your week in Texas went.” She admits, pouring her own cup of coffee. It’s her third cup of the day so far, but she’s also been up since four.

“Honestly?” You pause when a staff member sets a plate of hot food in front of each of the three of you and a large platter of pastries and fruit in the center of the table. The chorus of Thank you’s is in unison. “It was fantastic. His parents are great, I got along pretty well with most of his cousins, and even met a bunch of his friends from college. It was…” you grin at The admission forming on your lips. “It was really wonderful. His parents are planning on coming up to visit us here this summer.”

“That’s wonderful.” Your mother lights up and she nods. “We will have to have a family dinner.” She suggests. “Here? Personal tour of the White House? Do you think that would be something they would enjoy? I know his father would probably enjoy a game while he’s here as well.”

“Marcus has season tickets to the Nationals so we’re definitely planning on seeing a game.” The omelets that have been set out in front of you are steaming and you dig in to your plate without hesitation. “I was going to ask you about a tour for them so thank you for jumping on that. And I know they would love to meet you guys. A family dinner would be really great.”

“Marcus is wonderful and I can guarantee that it’s a reflection of his parents.” Your mother hums. “And as your soulmate, I think it’s important that everyone meets and gets along.”

“I know his parents already said they wouldn’t be offended if you were too busy, but I do want you guys to meet.” Donna and Matthew Pike had sworn that they would completely understand if they didn’t see hide or hair of your parents during the trip, but that hadn’t sat well with you. Your parents have always made time for the important things in their kids’ lives no matter how busy they were.

“Absolutely not.” Your mother sounds offended by the idea. “There is no reason, barring a world catastrophe, where we should meet his parents at your engagement party or some other event. “No, if they want to have something low key, we don’t have to meet here. But I am eager to meet them.” She shoots you a grin. “Diplomacy can wait for one evening.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t pass up the chance to have dinner at the White House.” The grin you send your mother is beaming and appreciative. “That’s a bragging right not everyone gets. There will be plenty of informal meals in the future.”

“Then I will try to make sure that the chef makes something that will measure up to the amazing food Sydney will be plying them with.” If it wouldn’t hurt your business, your mother would have hired her to be the White House chef in a heartbeat.

“I will carry that compliment back to her on a silver platter.” Now that all three of you are eating — devouring — your breakfasts, you don’t mind getting into things. Of course your mother doesn’t have all day for this meeting, but you expect to be sitting here with Annette for at least a little while. “So, before I put my two cents in, what kind of social media and press presence were you thinking you might wrangle me into?” You’re curious, after all. Since Junie has a clear passion and Alex is handsome and personable, whatever route they chose for you was bound to be a little different.

“Well, I was hoping that we could show how small businesses are vital for our economy.” Your mother looks over at Annette who is nodding. “You are a small business owner and you work with others as well.”

“Okay.” You nod, mumbling the word as you finish a bite of food. “So highlighting the small businesses we work with? Making visible visits to other small businesses? That kind of thing?”

“I know that you utilize some of the local merchants for your supplies.” Your mother nods. “Maybe some clips of you with them? We can do a voice over with the message we want to sent.”

“I’ll compile a list of who we have good relationships with and you let me know who you want to have footage of?” It’s a big plug for the businesses that you do actual work with, so you can’t imagine any of them objecting. “Patronizing your local small businesses is a message I’m happy to get behind.”

“Corporations have garnered too much power in the country.” Your mother agrees. “We need to find a balance between them and a simpler time where everyone shopped local.”

“Alright, that’s easy enough.” Although you’re sure that other complications will arise in time, agreeing to this plan is at least something you’re glad to do. “Anything else?”

A look is exchanged between Annette and your mother. A pause that should be concerning. “It’s about…your soulmate.” She begins.

“What about him?” You frown instantly, not liking the tone that has been chosen for this thought.

“I was hoping that you might sit for an interview.” Annette is the one who voices it. “For the Love is Love legislation that your mother is trying to get passed.

“Oh!” The hesitation in their voices is nothing to do with Marcus, really, and you relax measurably. “Yes. We can definitely do that. And actually?” Looking between your mother and Annette, wondering what they’ll think of this idea coming from you of all people. “I think I can do you one bigger than that.”

“What do you have in mind, young lady?” Your mother almost smirks at the idea that you are suggesting something.

“I know I’m not the kid you expect this from.” The look on her face says that loud and clear and you completely understand why. “But Marcus and I talked it over, and we thought we would see what you thought about a First Family love story. From engagement to wedding to building a house.”

As a career politician, it’s been a rare time where your mother has been speechless, but she just gapes at you, her mouth slightly ajar in shock. “I— are you sure?”

"I mean we're not offering to have a White House photographer follow us around every second of every day, but we know that things are going to get said about us no matter what. Our family are public figures, and Marcus grew up with a father in the spotlight. We figured that getting ahead of the narrative and giving people honest glances into who we are was a hell of a lot better than people just speculating wildly."

“That is an amazingly gracious idea.” She can understand that you are going out on a huge limb and that is so appreciated. “Are you sure you would be comfortable with that scope?”

"We've talked through it," you tell her, knowing that it's probably unbelievable for her to hear this coming from you. "And I'm more confident when I have Marcus with me. I feel better able to handle the extra sets of eyes on my life. So...I thought it made sense not to waste that."

“I think that would be incredible.” She reaches out for your hand. “Only what you will give us though. No more.” Your father had reminded her right before leaving for her briefing that you are her daughter and probably the most private out of the three children. You don’t crave the spotlight at all.

"Marcus thought we could start with the engagement," you tell her, knowing that this is a big leap for you and trying not to be nervous about it. "But I think I should put something on my social media about him being my soulmate first. Maybe some photos from a date with a small announcement?"

“It will mitigate any issues that might spring up.” She doesn’t mention how there has been chatter about the congressman being unhappy about the demise of your relationship. That’s not your concern.

"Our favorite restaurant is family-owned, and we can pick something to do afterward that is still small business or community oriented." That shouldn't be too awfully hard, considering the DC area is always crawling with choices for things to do. You're spoiled for it, really.

“Whatever you think would be best.” She smiles at you. “While I would normally have one million ideas, I think it’s better if this is organically from you.”

“I know Marcus already has my engagement ring hidden away somewhere.” A fact which makes your cheeks burn and your smile turn a little dopey. “But I don’t know anything else as far as that goes. Is it okay if I give him your email so he can touch base with you, Annette?”

“Absolutely!” Annette agrees immediately, while your mother looks impressed that your soulmate has already bought your engagement ring. More importantly is your reaction to that information, you look dreamy eyed and she couldn’t be more happy for you. “I must applaud Marcus for thinking ahead.” Your mother hums, taking a small sip of her coffee to hide her smile.

“We’re both thinking ahead.” A fact which gives you no end of pleasure. The flight back from Dallas had been spent in dreams and future plans, cuddled together looking out the window and making up a list of big and small things you wanted for your future together. “We’re starting to plot out what we want for our house, too. That’s the timeline that’s going to take the longest.”

“Your house?” You had mentioned it before, but your mother ticks her head to the side curiously.

“We’re going to build,” you explain, reaching for a scone from the plate of pastries on the table. “Since the land that the inn is on is more than enough and I own all of it, we’re going to use a portion at the back of the acreage to build a house.”

“That sounds like an adventure.” She’s always known you enjoy doing things your way and it’s refreshing to see that apparently your soulmate understands how much of your being is invested in the inn.

“It’s going to feel like a mansion after sharing my apartment in the inn.” After a little discussion, Marcus had decided that he would rather share the smaller space with you while the house is being built and sublet his current place to Clark — ensuring that his friend can have the new start in DC that he wants. “But we’re excited. It’s a whole lot of planning and big steps forward all at once, and for once I really have a partner who’s on the same page as me.”

“That’s the most important thing.” She knows this from experience. There is absolutely no way she would be the current president if your father hadn’t been on the same page as her as far was what their lives might look like. It’s something she’s always wanted for all of you.

“So…I know it’s more than you were going to ask of me.” Which you appreciate. Your mother recognizing and honoring your boundaries is something she had to work on a lot when you were in your teens and twenties. You look at up her and crack a small, bashful grin. “But it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity for something as uplifting and positive as a White House wedding.”

“A White House wedding?” Your mother’s gasp is surprised, honestly believing you would never even entertain an idea like that. “Are you- you’re joking right? It’s not April Fools Day. That was days ago.”

“I am not joking.” Although you can definitely see why she would be shocked. This is not a decision that you made quickly or easily — or alone. “But I do have an ulterior motive,” you admit, wanting there to be full transparency. “I am hoping that a super-secure and publicly documented White House wedding is a trade off for letting us go on our honeymoon alone.”

She doesn’t even glance at Annette. “Absolutely.” Your mother immediately insists. “There is no way I would want any kind of publicity for your honeymoon. You don’t even have to negotiate for that.” It’s honestly alarming that you think she might want you to do something for her political career on your honeymoon.

“Oh, that isn’t what I meant,” you clarify immediately, seeing naked distress in your mother’s face when she’s normally so good at staying neutral. “I meant…without my Secret Service detail. Give Agent Bailey and Agent Sisson a few weeks off while we go overseas. Marcus is very well trained and definitely enough to keep just two of us safe.”

Her expression eases slightly, relieved that’s not what you are talking about and she nods. “I think that will be entirely appropriate.”

“I’m optimistic that we can make sure this works for everyone.” Sitting in your seat in the family dining room, you lean back with a little extra confidence — bolstered by the fact that you know Marcus is with you every step of the way, just like your family. “Make this happy, and exciting, and something to look forward to.”

“Whatever you want.” Your mother agrees. “Whenever you want.” She adds. “I don’t want you pushing up plans for us, sweetheart.”

“We said we wanted to get started on the house before we get engaged,” you tell your mother, though you have to appreciate her insistence here. Plenty of other parents would hack the timeline if they were in her shoes. “So it will depend on how quickly we start in on those plans.”

“And Marcus wants to stay at the inn while you build?” She asks, lifting a brow in surprise. While she has seen your little apartment and thinks that it’s darling, Sam had always insisted it was too small to share space for even more than a day.

“We talked it through and he feels like it’s more important for me to be close to the inn than for his commute to be shorter. He’s going to sublet his current place to a friend that wants to move up from Texas and then the friend can take over the lease when it comes up. We’ll have a little less space than we would if we stayed in his apartment, but we don’t mind close quarters.” A fact which you will not look bashful about right now…no not at all…

“That’s a very solid plan that you have laid out.” Annette compliments. “It seems like you and your soulmate have made a lot of plans.”

“Right now I’d call it our favorite hobby.” Second favorite, but you’re not talking about your sex life in front of your mother…

The president snorts and rolls her eyes as she reaches for another scoop of fruit. “Sure.”

“Anyway.” Forcibly getting the conversation back on track seems like a smart idea. “Annette is my point person, then?”

“Yes.” Your mother takes the hint with a small smile. “I reasoned you would be more comfortable with her than any of the new staff.”

“And I appreciate that.” You offer both your mother and Annette a grateful smile. “Especially since this is going to involve my soulmate, I’m very glad to have someone that I know and trust working with us.”

“I am eager to meet him.” She hadn’t been present at the state dinner, she had been sick, but from what she can tell she will like him.

“Why don’t you come by the inn and have dinner with us sometime in the next week or two?” You suggest, figuring that would be nicer than a formal sit up in an imposing setting. “Something casual for the first time you meet? So we can all relax a little.”

“That sounds perfect.” Annette knows the value of an informal meeting. It often creates a better mood for the entire interaction.

"Awesome." Having everything moving in a comfortable direction is as much as you could ask from this meeting, and it's nice to see your mother semi-relaxed at the start of a workday. "Well, I'm sure you have eighty-seven things to do today Mom, so I won't keep you."

She winces apologetically and looks at her watch. “I’m actually about three minutes late for a cabinet meeting.” She admits, standing up to move over and kiss your forehead again. “Are you and Marcus coming to dinner on Friday?”

"We'll be there with bells on," you promise her. "Go get to your meeting. I love you, and tell Dad I love him too."

“I will, sweetheart.” She promises. “Annette, I will see you later. Take your time finishing breakfast.”

The unfortunate truth is that the dinner with Annette might be necessary sooner rather than later. Within a bare twenty-four hours of the White House Easter Egg Roll and the official photos that refer to Marcus Pike as your soulmate, the commentary on social media and in online tabloids begins.

Marcus frowns as he opens the new story. It’s not uncommon for articles to be inflammatory, he knows that from the state dinner, but this is all but calling you a cheating liar. “Fuck.” He growls, eyes narrowing on the wording from the ‘anonymous source’.

"What's wrong?" Your nose is stuck in the schedule for next week while dinner is in the oven and you sit with Marcus in the living room, but you glance up when he sounds unhappy.

Marcus sighs and turns his phone towards you so you can read the headline. “I hate to accuse anyone, but this fucking sounds like your favorite congressman ex.”

"Sounds more like your ex, if you ask me." Vanessa might look sweet and innocent, but she can be cutthroat and single-minded in her goals when she sets herself to it. Something she learned from her justice father. "Think they're getting their jollies going after us together?"

“Shit- you think?” He ended things on a good note with Vanessa. Actually, she broke up with him, why would she smear his name?

"I don't know what her motive would be besides trying to get under Sam, but I wouldn't be surprised by it." Leaning forward to read the beginning of the article on his phone, you still frown. "I knew somebody was going to try saying we cheated, but damn."

“We know the truth.” Marcus frowns as he rereads the article. “This seems to imply that we are lying about being soulmates.” He looks over to you with a small grin. “That’s proven easily enough.”

"Hmm." That does make you smile, and you look up at him from behind your laptop. "Are you thinking we should stage a little photo on my social media as a response?"

“Absolutely.” He’s not thrilled about the tattoo you both share, but it’s solid evidence of your connection. “Your reputation won’t even tarnish a little.”

"I'm sure I'll get some snide comments about the kind of tattoo we share, but that's on me." You shrug at the truth of it. "I definitely should have gotten it somewhere else."

He laughs and shrugs. “Doesn’t make a difference now.” He reminds you. “It’s on both of our skin, so it’s proof. You’ve had it for years and so have I. Should we post new pictures and old ones with the tattoos?”

"We can do a little album on my Instagram." The suggestion is a welcome one, but it does mean you push your laptop away and set it on the coffee table to snuggle a little closer to him. "You have old photos with the tattoo in them?"

“I do.” Marcus chuckles. “But….” He shrugs. “They were taken by my ex-wife. She’s not in them.” He assures you.

“That’s fine.” Frankly, if Lara gets involved in the conversation it will just reinforce the fact that Marcus has had your marks for a very long time. “I can bribe Agent Sisson to be our photographer for a photo that has both of us in it.”

“And how do we want to casually set up pictures of our lower backs?” He asks with a grin.

“There’s nothing casual about what we’re doing.” You tuck yourself into his side and grin. “This is answering a call out.”

“To address any unfounded and untrue rumors….” He captions with a snort. “Straightforward. I like it.”

"If we wanted to do this casually, I would just say we should go take some pool pictures." You glance up at him, seeing what he thinks of that. "Violating my mom's no bikini rule for a good cause."

“I like bikini’s.” He agrees immediately, his eyes darkening slightly with lust.

"Oh yeah?" The smirk on your face is nearly instant. "Like we should take a tropical vacation level of like?"

“Like you need to book one immediately.” He huffs. “Texas didn’t count as a vacation.”

"Of course it did!" The fact that he's getting all bent out of shape imagining you in a bikini when he sees you naked on a daily basis is adorably, quite frankly. "And you can't even claim it wasn't sexy. We nearly broke that bed."

“Of course we did.” He laughs. “It’s old and we are horny.” He teases, biting his lip as he pulls you close. “But in a bikini, it’s so much less clothing to take off you.”

"You wouldn't even have to take it off." He's getting ideas and you turn your face up to smirk at him, fully encouraging those ideas to take form. "Just shove it aside. Nothing else needed."

“Fuck.” He hisses, clenching his jaw and imagining fucking you on a beach somewhere.

"Gonna keep that imagine in the spank bank, babe?" You can't help but tease him a little, knowing that you would be reacting exactly the same way if it was Marcus teasing you. But you started it this time so you get to tease.

“Fuck yes, I am.” He snorts. “We would get arrested. But it would be worth it.”

"There's a private beach where we could get away with it somewhere." Leaning up to press a kiss to Marcus's cheek, you're still grinning. "Good to know it's on the fantasy list, though."

“Very high up there.” Marcus admits with no shame. Just the freedom to explore these ideas with you is amazing, even if they are never acted on.

"I think..." The only thing that keeps you from shifting into his lap is the kitchen timer going off from the oven. Instead of climbing on to him you just climb off the couch to get to the baked pasta you put together right before Marcus got home from work. "That maybe we should do half the honeymoon in Paris and the other half on the Riviera? Get some swimsuit time in?"

“I like the way you think.” Marcus chuckles quietly, nodding. “How long are we talking? A few days in each place? A week?”

"A week each?" You pull him up from the couch to come to the kitchen with you. There's still a table to set and wine to pour, and all that good stuff. "Two weeks in France sounds like magic."

“I agree.” He grins and grabs the bottle of wine you had set out. It’s become a routine to have a glass with dinner and he enjoys the selection the inn has, although it annoys you that he insists on paying you for the wine.

"A big, beautiful wedding. Two weeks in Paris. A lovely house for us to move into." Every time you think through the plans you're starting to make for the future, they sound better and better.

“That sounds perfect to me.” Marcus admits, smiling softly at the idea. “Have you thought about the style ideas I sent you?”

"I was showing your Pinterest board to Syd on our lunch today." The collection of Dutch Colonial, Queen Anne, Georgian, and Federal style houses that Marcus had put together to share with you is full of so many ideas that you had lost track of time in the kitchen and was almost late to interview a new member of the housekeeping staff. "She likes the Queen Anne style Victorians, of course."

“Of course she does.” Marcus grins as he lifts a brow. “Which one of those were you most interested in?” He doesn’t really mind what architectural style your home is in, as long as you are happy with the result.

Having decided that the edge of the property where you planned to build was far enough from the inn and her out buildings that you didn’t need to be loyal to the colonial structures, you have a little more freedom to choose what you build. “I think I like the Georgian houses you sent me best,” you tell him, setting down two plates of baked pasta in the table at your customary seats. “It complements the colonial style without being obsessive about matching, and it’s not overly complicated.”

“That’s a good choice, and it still fits with the overall theme of the property.” Marcus agrees. “However…one thing I think is a must in our new house.”

“What’s that?” The two of you settle down and pick up your forks, comfortable in the relative quiet of the apartment while Agent Bailey takes one of her occasional walks around the grounds.

“We have to have an elevator in our house.” He’s gotten used to the elevator at the inn and can’t imagine living without one now.

“Non-negotiable?” You tease, knowing that on the nights he goes to the gym after work he groans his way into the apartment on principle. “Noted. You will have your elevator.”

“Thank God.” He dramatically moans and tosses his head back. “Getting older sucks. You’ll see.” He teases about the age gap, but it’s only seven years. “Heartburn is about to start.”

“I was more thinking of our kids,” you admit quietly, poking your fork into a big bite of sausage and zucchini and pasta together. “What if one of them needs the house to be accessible?”

“That thought had crossed my mind.” Marcus agrees. “But we will pray that all our children will be healthy, prepare in case they are not.”

“No matter what, they’ll be cared for and loved.” That, at least, you can both guarantee.

“Plus it will be easier when someone undoubtably breaks a leg.” Marcus snorts, laughing slightly. “It seemed like it was a contest in my family who would break a bone first every year.”

“Kids are gonna be clumsy,” you joke, pointing your fork at him in teasing accusation. “Got it.”

“But they will make up for it with good looks and charm.” He grins back at you and winks.

First Princess Cheating Scandal is the headline splashed across the tabloid on the magazine rack, and your hand twitches before reaching for it. This is the bullshit you absolutely hate about being in the public eye, and now that they’ve started coming for Marcus you hate it even more. The article inside claims that you faked your matching marks — including your scars, which is possible but extremely far fetched — and that you’ve been sleeping together since at least the night of the State dinner.

With another one of those dinners on the horizon and the weariness in your bones over now spending multiple weeks of time on this stupid non-issue, you pay for the magazine and continue on to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building with it shoved in your purse. Agent Bailey’s advice had been to let it roll off your shoulders because people are always going to gossip, but as much as you’d like to do that it’s possible this might affect your mother’s image. Or your business. Your previously fully booked inn has had multiple cancelled reservations since this whole thing started.

So you walk on, with the little treats you made in a container in your purse and Marcus’s favorite midafternoon coffee order from the shop around the corner to surprise him at the office.

Marcus is pouring over a case when you knock on his office door. He doesn’t keep it closed, preferring to let his team come to him whenever. To feel like they can. Looking up, he sees you and immediately smiles. “Birdie.” He almost said Princess, but since the beginning of this entire ‘scandal’ non-scandal thing, it’s kind of soured the nickname. Immediately abandoning the file, he stands up and rushes around to give you a kiss. “This is a welcomed surprise.”

“I did a little baking with Syd this afternoon and the results were so good that I couldn’t wait to share.” The kiss is a comforting balm, even if it’s short, and you hold up the cup in your left hand. “And I brought your coffee.”

He groans in appreciation, of both the baked goods and the caffeine. “I was just about to get another cup from the break room, but this is better. His hand slides around your back and he rubs it soothingly, seeing the pinch of upset around your eyes but he wants you to talk to him naturally. “Want to come inside? Share it with me?”

You nod and step inside, your own cup from the coffeeshop clutched in your other hand. It’s herbal tea, though. Caffeine didn’t seem like a good idea when you’re already anxious. “Agent Bailey is in the bullpen, I hope you don’t mind.” Now that you’re in a relationship with a well-trained and fully competent federal agent, your Secret Service detail tends to be a bit more relaxed about giving you space.

“Not at all.” Marcus insists, guiding you over to the little couch in his office. “Rodriguez will show her where the donuts are.” He snickers.

“So…” he sits down beside you and you pull a small container of Madeleines out of your oversized purse to offer to him, but the magazine is sitting just underneath and it makes your eyebrows pinch together all over again. “We walked past a news stand on the way here and…saw a new headline.”

“Oh no.” Marcus sighs, he takes the container but sets them aside to give you his full attention. “Bad?”

“Not great.” With a resigned sigh, you pull the magazine out of your bag and hand it over for Marcus to inspect. Under the headline is the now-famous shot of the two of you dancing together and the article inside includes a paparazzi shot of the two of you grocery shopping alongside one torn from your social media of a date night.

He winces at the headline and huffs, opens it, flipping to the article and skimming it. “I want to really get this ‘anonymous source’ into a fucking interrogation room.” He growls, growing more and more upset at the outright lies that are being insinuated. “But it’s fucking hard to be sleeping with you when security from Vanessa’s building has me showing up on a timestamped tape.”

“Agent Bailey was less than thrilled with the accusation that she would lie about anything out of loyalty. You might have to fight her for that interrogation.” Shaking your head as he puts down the magazine, you’re craving his warmth and security enough that you lean in on the couch beside him. “I had an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it,” you admit quietly.

“What is it?” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, wanting to protect you from all this. He feels guilty, like you would be better off if your connection hadn’t been acted on.

“It’s….a little dramatic.” You can admit that, too. Although at this point you feel like a dramatic response isn’t uncalled for.

It might be necessary, in Marcus’s opinion. He nods and hums while waiting for you to continue.

“How would you feel about having another tattoo?” The question is posed carefully, quietly, but you had been considering it all the way over and bandied it back and forth with Agent Bailey during your walk. While extreme, it would certainly put all doubts to rest to share a video of you getting a new tattoo and having it appear just seconds after being finished, fully formed on Marcus’s skin.

“No gang or face tattoos.” Marcus jokes, shrugging slightly. “I’ve got no problem if you want to get a tattoo, sweetheart.” He decides. “But I don’t want you to do that simply to prove that we are soulmates. We don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I know it’s not owed.” That thought had never even crossed your mind, actually. “But I want this put to rest and something small that we decide on together would be a nice mark to share under almost any circumstance.” Shrugging a little, you take a sip of your tea and sit back. “It’s just a thought. Obviously I’m not going to just go off and do this on my own. That’s the opposite of the point of it.”

“No, I’m not opposed to it.” Marcus protests softly. “I just want to make sure it’s not from a place of insecurity.”

“Even if we weren’t soulmates, I would think it was sweet to have matching tattoos,” you tell him honestly, savoring the quiet comfort of the moment when your mind was chaotic just a half hour ago.

“What kind are you thinking of?” He asks softly, smiling as you lean against him. He enjoys the warmth of moment. The quiet comfort of you with him.

“I haven’t come up with anything brilliant.” Or even anything original. You had mostly been waiting to talk to him about it. “But something small, that’s reasonably discreet? Behind the ear or on the ankle or something like that? Even the wrist, so you could cover it with your watch when you want. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“What about a little flower?” Marcus offers. “Behind the ear. I can cover that with my hair if I need to, and it can be your favorite bloom.”

“That sounds completely adorable.” The smile you have for him is beaming, feeling the way your heart bursts at his absolute acceptance and support. The love that radiates off him even in something as simple as knowing how much you love flowers.

“I thought you would like that.” He admits, tapping just behind your ear. “And you are so sensitive when I kiss right here. Especially when I’m inside you.”

“That’s mostly because you’re inside me.” Even though your cheeks burn with it and you slide down a little against his side, you’re still beaming at him. “If we’re going for things that enhance sensitivity then maybe I’ll have to look into piercings,” you tease.

“Don’t tease.” He pouts, twitching under the proper suit. “I can’t think about those kinds of things and be expected to work.”

“Oh, would you like if I had secret piercings?” You raise one eyebrow in interest, surprised to hear such an enthusiastic response to the passing idea.

“Piercings are hot.” Marcus would never deny that. “If you wanted to get some, I would support you completely. Enthusiastically.” He teases with a grin.

You hum at him, intrigued enough by the thought to actually heavily consider it, just imagining his face seeing them and how eager he would be to play with them. “That would be a very personal gift for my soulmate.”

Yes it would be. Marcus hums, trying and failing to hide a small smirk. “Personal is good.” He agrees, “but don’t feel like that’s something I have to have. If you want it, that’s one thing.”

"It's something to think about." It's no secret to him that you like things that mark you as his – your soulmate marks, of course, but your promise ring and occasionally wearing a piece of his clothing as well. Piercings might be something only he would see, but that just makes it all the more meaningful.

“Hmmmmmm.” He chuckles and nods his head. “It is. But I don’t think you came all the way down here to just fill my head with dirty thoughts.”

"I came down to surprise you with coffee and tell you that I love you." When he cocks his head slightly, you end up grinning. "I might have a little date night planned for you tonight. The caffeine has ulterior motives."

"Oh really?" He perks up, smiling slightly as he looks over at you in utter surprise. "So I need to make sure I'm home on time tonight?"

"Actually?" His delight is gratifying, and you squeeze his arm gently at your waist. "I'm taking you right from here. Our night is in the city."

"Kidnapping me, hmmm?" He grins widens and he bites his lip. "What does Agent Bailey think of such activities?"

"Oh, she helped me plan it." And she seemed to have fun with it, too, which made the little diversion even better. "Even made our dinner reservation for us."

"Wow." Marcus makes an impressed face. "That was a plot twist I didn't expect." he laughs. "Am I allowed to know any details or just show up and look pretty?"

"Just be your handsome self when I come back at five to pick you up." You stretch up to kiss his cheek, glad that he seems to be looking forward to tonight and hadn't been looking forward to just going home. "I'm going to scoot home, finish some paperwork, and get all dolled up for you."

"Bring me back an outfit?" Marcus asks, turning pleading eyes on you. "It can be another suit, I just want to freshen up too. Look my best."

"I'll bring something devastating but understated." That isn't hard considering Marcus's wardrobe is extremely well curated, but you still like to pay him the compliment as you pull yourself back to standing. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, babe."

He can’t help but grin a little more, your compliment making his shoulders lift confidently. “I’ll see you soon.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours in the office where there’s privacy, although he will walk you to the elevator.

"I love you." That is for the privacy of his office too, but only because it comes with such a doe-eyed look from you that it's nearly obscene.

“I love you too, Hummingbird.” He promises, the same sappy look in his eyes as he turns to guide you out of the office. His hand rests on your lower back, over the tattoo.

Unfortunately, no date night photos or other positive presence on your social media is enough to combat the now growing accusation and rumors surrounding your soulmate status. It's only two weeks after first presenting the idea to Marcus that you're both sitting in a tattoo studio with the artist that did a beautiful flower tattoo for Sydney's sister AnnaLeigh.

Marcus had asked Juan to come and film the entire thing, so it couldn’t be said that it was spliced together. Although he was sure that comment was coming. Some people couldn’t be pleased no matter what, they didn’t want to believe there was an innocent reason for them being together.

The simple design would not take long to ink into your skin, and the artist helped Juan set up two chairs so that both you and Marcus could be in the shot to capture the instant the finished tattoo appears on Marcus’s skin. The entire video would be shared on your social media, audio included, so you had had to work up the nerve to even just chat with Marcus on camera. Sharing another mark with him isn’t stressful at all, it’s letting the public so deeply into your personal life that is.

“I like the design.” Marcus sits down on the other side of you and takes your hand. “You should have let me do the tattoo this time.” He jokes. “I don’t know what it feels like.”

“We can switch if you want to?” You’re nervous, and he knows it. Not for getting the tattoo, but from everything that has been going on.

“That’s up to you, sweetheart. Whatever you want to do.” Marcus wouldn’t take this experience from you if you want it.

“It’s small,” the artist assures you, seeing anxiety in her clients. “And behind the ear doesn’t hurt very much for most people. I had one woman nearly fall asleep on the table because she liked the humming and the soft vibrations.”

Marcus can handle a little bit of pain. You know that. A tattoo is nothing compared to broken limbs or the incident when he was undercover and was shot — which had sent you in a flurry of cooing and coddling for about three days when he first told you about it. Tattooing is the kind of pain that some people find pleasurable, so you squeeze his hand and nod. “Why don’t you give it a shot? You might decide you like it and we’ll end up here all over again.”

“Is that alright with you?” Marcus asks the tattoo artist, knowing they might not appreciate a change of clientele.

“Fine with me.” She nods as she sets up her tray. “I have both of your information on file and believe it or not this happens a lot. Soulmates come in with a design they’ve chosen but they’ll change their mind at the last minute about which one of them will actually being sitting for it.”

Marcus chuckles and turns you both so he can sit down in the chair. “We’ll both be wearing it anyway.” He agrees. “So I don’t mind experiencing it.”

“I’ve never been shot but I guarantee it hurts less.” You move to let him sit in the artist’s chair and situate yourself by his side.

Marcus chuckles as the tattoo artists eyes widen. “I’m a federal agent.” He explains quietly. “It was just a flesh wound, but she thinks it’s impressive.”

“It is impressive!” And you’re just going to keep telling him so over and over until he caves, but right now you just throw a pout at him to make him laugh.

Marcus gives you the laugh and turns his head to the side, staring at you. “Still not as impressive as you are beautiful.” He murmurs softly, although the video picks it up.

“I love you, too.” The bashfulness in it is only because you weren’t expecting that kind of compliment right now — as the artist about to permanently ink Marcus’s skin is making sure she has everything she needs on her tray. You lean into his side and tip back your head, nothing but pure love in your eyes right before they slip shut at the brief press of your lips to his.

Marcus hums, an automatic sound that comes out of him when you kiss him. Excited that you are as free with your kisses as he is, it’s liberating to indulge whenever the urge strikes you. When you pull back, he grins. “Now I’m ready.”

"Go ahead and lean forward." Sitting down on her stool, the artist beckons Juan over with the camera for the best angle to watch the action and still have you in the shot. "And here goes nothing."

The first touch of the needle nearly makes Marcus jump. He barely resists the urge and then laughs quietly, trying not to move too much. “This is kind of ticklish.” He admits.

"Then it already hurts less than the one I got," you tease, glad that the experience isn't painful for him. Watching him giggle about it and knowing it's being filmed is downright endearing.

“I’m sorry.” Marcus apologizes, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. “I wish your experience was better.” He snorts after he says it. “Maybe not, or I might be covered in ink.”

"It wasn't bad, but it was definitely more than a tickle." The grin you shoot him, though, is knowing. "If you end up liking this so much tonight, we might be covered in ink because of you instead."

“Only areas that can be respectfully covered.” He teases you, sending you a wink as the artist continues to carefully work behind his ear.

"Sounds like a plan," you toss him a smirk in return and the set of you grow quiet after another round of low laughter, so the only sound in the room becomes the resilient buzz of the artist's needle.

Marcus could probably fall asleep if the noise didn’t vibrate in his head. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently. “After this, we will have to go get that cream to keep it clean.”

"We can get a Tattoo Goo kit before we leave the shop." His hand is in yours and you squeeze it reassuringly. "It's going to be tender for a bit, but it won't take too long to heal."

“I’m sure you will be completely cuddly as I heal.” He snickers quietly.

"I think having a cuddly girlfriend is mandatory for the healing process," you tell him seriously. At this point you've completely forgotten Juan is here for any other reason besides moral support. Forgotten about the phone in his hands being a camera and the fact that this video will become public for the world to see. This is just a moment between you and your soulmate. And a sweet one, at that.

“You should have seen me when the scar from your appendix showed up.” He snorts. “I was upset that my soulmate was hurt.”

“We were kids.” Sure he’s older than you, but you were so young when you had appendicitis. “Did it really worry you that much?”

“Yeah.” Marcus admits, not ashamed of that in the least. “Not knowing what happened, I kept imagining horrible things. Waited for other scars to possibly show up for at least a week.”

“If you had scarred from your broken leg or when you hurt your shoulder, I probably would have felt the same way.” It’s less of an admission from you and more of a confirmation, telling him in no uncertain terms how much you have always cared about his well-being. “Which is still your gunshot wound is such a big deal.” One of your fingers digs into his arm playfully. “That scared the crap out of me.”

“Well, now if I get shot, you can baby me right away.” He teases. “And tell the plastic surgeon to make the scar invisible.”

"I don't mind wearing your scars." The thought comes out quieter than you mean for it to, holding Marcus's hand tightly in yours. "I'm proud of you. And proud to wear your marks, no matter how many of them there are."

“Hopefully not too many more.” He hopes, smiling at you. “But I’m proud to wear your marks too, Hummingbird.”

The session doesn’t last too much longer. Marcus has a high pain tolerance but the tattoo mainly just tickles him, making him grin and laugh as he chats with you and with the artist for the last few minutes. When she pronounces him done and stands back, there is a moment of silence before the permanence of the piece takes hold on him and transfers instantly to your skin.

A sharp intake of breath at the momentary pain is how you know it has happened, and you glance over at Marcus — and Juan with your phone — just absolutely beaming with happiness. “Does it look as good on me as it does on him?”

Marcus inspects the area, forgetting the camera is even on and recording. He leans in and presses a kiss to the tattoo. “It looks even better, Princess.” He promises with a smile.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

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rafesslxt · 7 hours

Text

Lollipop | Mattheo Riddle

summary: Mattheo always carry‘s around something sweet for you

warnings: cutie mattheo, mention of bj, finger sucking

Imagine Mattheo always has these little heart shaped lolly‘s with him to give them to you in every kind of scenario.

When you‘re nervous before a test he gives you one straight out of his pocket, pulling off the wrapper before handing it to you.

When you‘re rambling and even tho he finds it cute, you‘re distracting him from studying so he takes one out of his drawer and hands you it. You smile at him and put the heart shaped thing in your mouth as soon as you get the wrapper off.

When you‘re with him and his friends and he see‘s you‘re bored because currently they‘re talking about quidditsch, he pulls one out of his jacket, handing it to you with a kiss to your lips.

But sometimes you didn‘t get the wrapper off, trying and trying for yourself because you didn‘t want to bother mattheo anymore so you unintentionally start to sigh and groan as it gets useless. Mattheo of course notices and grins to himself as he sees you strzggling with it. "Need any help?" he ask with a cheeky smirk as you hand it to him. " sorry didn‘t want to bother you matty.." He grabs your chin and pulls you closer, ignoring the words coming out of his friends mouth to give you a hot kiss, hiss teeth tugging at your bottom lip for a second before whispering into your ear. "You‘re never bothering me princess." He then takes the wrapper off and looks at you again. "Open your mouth." he says in a calm voice. You do as he says and he lays it down on your tounge, still looking into your eyes while doing so and smirking again. "Good Girl."

But then one day you‘re sitting in the yard with Mattheo, nervous as hell before writing a important test. "I - I can‘t calm down, this is so important!" you ramble up and down, walking in circles almost. As Mattheo grabs into his pockets, his eyes go wide. "Shit." he mumbles to himself. "M-mattheo? Do you have a lolly for me?" Fuck. You ask him that for the first time from alone and exactly now he doesn‘t have one. Then an idea pops into his head. He bites his lip and shakes his head but pulls you into his lap and says "open up baby" he puts his face beside yours to look at you when he slowly pushes two fingers into your mouth. His eyes go wide when you don‘t hesitate to suck them. His lips part and a smile creeps up on them. "Oh baby wait until we‘re alone then you can suck on something bigger." Mattheo whispers against his neck and plants a kiss there. "Mattheo!" you giggle and slap his shoulder, but still continuing with sucking.

just a little something as I saw I didn‘t post anything in 5 days whoops – but anywaaaaays thank you for reading 🫶🏻

taglist: @sofa-couch26 @nevereverthem @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @justarandomcanadiantransdude

xoxo sarah <3

#slytherin boys #slytherin imagine #slytherin smut #harry potter imagine #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut

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strwbrrychnnie · 2 days

Text

< about time >

pairing:: bang chan x older male reader genre:: smut // fluff - - minors dni!! word count:: 2.9k summary:: you’re an overworked college student and your best friend, bang chan, is a famous kpop idol. he’s constantly busy and you haven’t seen him in months. he surprises you with a visit late one night, and scenes in the movie you watch sparks a flame you didn’t know existed between you two. warnings:: smut !!! unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), slight d / s dynamic, dirty talk, praise, slight pet play if you squint, swearing, petnames, age dynamic & honorifics, crying notes:: my first work on here :fingers-crossed: not entirely proofread either srry ;; i’ve actually never seen ‘about time,’ but i know vaguely what happens in it- bare with me if i get anything wrong ,,</3 i don’t know how to end stories i’m so sorry

it’s been a long day. you’ve been working on your homework all day- reading textbooks and taking notes, replying to insufferable classmates on discussion posts, studying for an upcoming test. all you want is someone to hold you, and nobody comes to mind.

that is, except for your best friend, chan.

he’s always there when you need him, but he's beyond busy. he’ll pick up every call within a ring or two, but never has time to talk more than five minutes. but he never forgets to text you good night, sleep well, to dream happy thoughts.

you groan, leaning back in your chair. would he come over if you asked? does he even have the time? is he even still in korea? you spiral and spiral until you eventually pick up your phone, deciding to find out for yourself.

he picks up before the first ring, a coarse voice filling your ear. “y/n? you okay? it’s 2am, sweetheart.” your heart aches at the petname.

“i- sorry. i’ve been up working on homework, i didn't mean to wake you up.” you whisper into the phone. chan laughs gently.

“i’ve been up. don't worry about me, it's just good to hear your voice.” a silence falls over you, registering his compliment. “you there?”

“yeah- yeah, sorry. just…” you bite your tongue. “i miss you, chan.” he sighs on the other end of the phone.

“i miss you too. look, how about… i wrap things up here, and come over?” your eyes widen.

“wait, really? can you even do that?” chan laughs again.

“of course i can, y/n. i don't have a schedule tomorrow, so i can do whatever i want tonight. would you like that?” chan teases.

“yes, please. i need you.” you bite your lip at your neediness. chan chuckles, and you hear a rustling on his end of the phone.

“you need me, baby boy? did i hear that right?” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“that’s hyung to you, sir.” you correct.

“you're barely older than me! don't make me call you that.” chan whines.

“yeah, yeah. hurry up over there and come over, okay?” chan huffs playfully.

“okay. give me like thirty minutes, i'll head out right as i finish.” you smile, pursing your lips together at the thought of seeing him again.

“see you soon, channie.”

“see you soon, y/n-ie.”

---

it's almost exactly thirty minutes before you hear a knock at your door. you jump up, running to unlock it, greeted with your best friend dressed in all black.

“hi, channie.” you say softly, playing with the hem of your shirt. chan smiles, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“hi, hyung. i missed you.” chan whispers as you sigh, wrapping your arms around him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. chan chuckles, squeezing you tighter. “you okay?” you shake your head.

“just… long day. needed to be around someone.” chan nods, caressing your back, holding you tight.

“i know, sweetheart. i’m here now, okay?” you bury your face deeper into his neck.

“okay.”

it feels like eternity, standing there in the atrium, hugging chan. but you wouldn't have it any other way. chan breaks the silence, clearing his throat.

“hyung, let's go to your room. you need to get some rest.” you groan, holding chan tighter.

“i'm not tired. i still have work i need to do, i’m so behind and-”

“hey, hey.” chan pulls away, holding your shoulders at an arm’s distance. “don't worry about all that. just get some rest, with me, yeah?” chan cups your face in his hand, caressing your cheek. you lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut.

“okay.. fine.” you give up, melting into chan’s touch. chan giggles, moving a hand from your shoulder down to your hand.

“that’s my hyungie.” chan praises, leading you up to your bedroom.

once you get there, you sit against the headboard of the bed, pulling a blanket over your lower half. “let me help you.” chan offers, sitting beside you and gently pulling the blanket over both of you. “we can watch a movie or something if you want?” chan suggests, snuggling closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and laying his head on your shoulder.

“we can watch something, i'm okay with that.” you lay your head against chan's head, closing your eyes and sighing softly. chan moves a hand to your thigh, caressing it softly.

“alright, anything in particular you want to watch?” chan asks, rubbing small circles on your thigh, feeling your breathing slow down. “or should we pick something together?” chan hums, enjoying the warmth of your body against his.

“what was that movie you watched with stay the other day?” you ask. “i was busy when you watched it, so i never got to see it.”

“oh- about time?” chan blushes. “that’s like my favorite movie. i’d so be okay with watching that again.” you smile, reaching for the remote and turning on the tv. you pull up the movie and press play, chan’s thigh against yours, his hand caressing your skin.

the two of you enjoy the movie, cuddling and leaning against each other. about halfway through, a sex scene pops up on the screen, shocking you. you purse your lips, trying to focus on the screen, instead of the hand on your bare thigh. chan continues caressing your skin, seemingly unbothered by the scene on the tv.

“hyung.” chan whispers, moving his hand closer to your inner thigh. “i’ll stop if you tell me to.” you shake your head, eyes falling down to the blankets, covering chan’s hand.

“it’s.. it’s okay.” chan hums, continuing to stroke your thigh, matching the rhythm of the movie's steamy scene. he keeps his gaze on the screen, as you bite your lip and refuse to look up. chan slowly snakes his hand up your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. chan nuzzles his face against your shoulder, as you bite back a whimper.

“hyung...” chan murmurs, turning to you, stopping his hand right above your growing bulge. “do you want me to stop?” his voice trembles, his breath warm against your neck.

you shake your head. “no, i… please keep going.” the movie forgotten, you purse your lips together, turning away from chan from embarrassment.

“good boy.” chan praises, his heart pounding out of his chest. he slides his hand up to your clothed erection, palming it gently through your shorts. chan presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, slipping a hand under your shorts and cupping your length over your underwear. you whimper, squeezing your eyes closed.

“channie…”

“shh, it’s okay, hyung. i’ve got you.” chan reassures, stroking your erection through your underwear. he presses soft kisses down your neck, nibbling gentle marks into your skin. “so fucking hot for me, yeah?” chan teases, increasing the pressure slightly.

“shit…” you bite back a moan, looking down at where chan is touching you.

“i know, baby.” chan coos, feeling you twitch beneath his touch. “i want to make you feel good, okay?” chan whispers, sliding his hand inside your underwear and gripping you gently. “is this okay?” he asks, his own erection straining against his pants.

“yes, yes, please, channie.” you beg, your dick twitching in chan’s hold. you shift the blanket, moving it off your crotch so you can watch him touch you. the cold air is a welcome feeling, as chan’s hand is so warm against you.

“fuck, hyung.” chan gasps, his eyes widening at the sight of your hardened length. he takes a deep breath, leaning down and taking you into his mouth.

“chris! oh, fuck.” you buck up into his mouth at the sudden feeling, his mouth warm and tight around your cock. chan chuckles around you at the use of his real name, as he moves a hand down to play with your balls gently.

chan hums around you, sucking harder, his tongue dancing along your shaft. chan caresses your balls gently, eliciting another whimper from you. “you taste so good.” he lifts off your cock to breathe, then dives back in, swallowing your length fully and bobbing his head rhythmically.

“channie, oh my god.” you bury a hand in his hair, just petting it, not trying to force him to stay down on your cock. you throw your head back, whimpering as chan swallows around you.

“i’m not stopping, hyung.” chan promises, leaning back down, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks you deep. chan releases your balls, gripping your thighs tightly, hard enough to leave marks. “cum in my mouth, hyung.” he begs. chan increases his pace, sucking harder and bobbing quicker, his saliva dripping down your shaft. he takes you fully in his mouth, his nose brushing against your pubic bone. you hold back a loud moan and bite your bottom lip.

“close, channie. so close.” chan nods, swallowing around you, humming gently. a hot flash runs through your body, your hips bucking involuntarily into chan’s mouth. you come with a loud groan, filling chan’s mouth with your warm seed. you shake through your orgasm, your body going weak and your head falling back against the headboard. you pant, petting chan’s hair as he gently sucks you clean.

“there you go, baby.” chan praises, swallowing your cum and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. he presses a kiss to the side of your cock, humming happily. “are you alright?” chan asks, looking up, concern in his voice. you nod, visibly exhausted, opening your eyes slowly to see a red-faced chan with a crooked smile, his mouth slightly open.

“i- thank you, chan. that was…” chan giggles, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“anytime, hyungie.” chan smiles, his heart racing. he sits closer to you, pulling you into a hug. “how do you feel?” he asks, his erection hard against your hip. you blush, leaning into his hug, shifting so your hip brushes against his bulge. chan whimpers, burying his face into your neck.

“i’m okay… what about you, channie? can i help you?” you whisper, caressing his inner thigh. chan whines, breathing heavily against your neck.

“hyung...” chan stammers, his erection pulsating against your hip. “i want to fuck you.” he confesses, his voice barely audible. “but only if you're okay with that.” he adds, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“oh, god.” you throw your head back in shock. “i want nothing more than that. please?” you plead and chan lets go of you, throwing the blankets off you both, sitting in front of you. he carefully guides you to lay on your back, your head against the pillow. chan giggles, slipping your shorts and underwear off your legs, leaving you alone in your shirt. chan slips off his shirt, revealing his perfectly toned body. you purse your lips together, admiring his body. “you’re so beautiful, chris.” chan blushes, looking away, covering his face with his hands.

“stoppp… i’m not.. i’m not beautiful.” you pull chan down, his legs kneeling on either side of your torso. you cup chan’s face with one of your hands, the other placed on his chest.

“you’re perfect, in every way. you’re so, so, pretty, christopher.” chan whines, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his face flushed red. “i mean it, baby. you’re so beautiful.” chan groans, pulling himself up.

“okay, okay, i get it, you’re in love with me.” chan teases, kneeling on his shins, slipping out of his shorts and underwear. you tilt your head to the side, admiring chan’s body.

“you’re not wrong. i’ve kinda always been in love with you, chris.” chan stops in his tracks, making eye contact with you.

“i… i love you too, hyung.” chan mumbles, his heart overflowing with emotion. he looks down, pumping his cock twice, his tip wet with precum.

you melt, reaching your hand out to hold chan’s. “so pretty, channie.” chan shakes his head, shy, taking your hand into his.

“hyung…” chan whimpers, his eyes locked on yours. he positions himself between your legs, his tip pressing against your entrance. “are you sure?” he asks, his voice shaking. you nod.

“i’m sure, channie. i’m good, go ahead.” you squeeze chan’s hand. chan takes a deep breath, pushing in slowly, hissing as he feels the tightness of your entrance. he stops, waiting for you to adjust.

“you okay?” he asks, his face flushed. you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping chan’s hand tightly.

“so- so big, channie.”

“sorry, hyungie.” chan apologizes, pulling out slightly and slowly pushes in again, a little further this time. “i’ll be gentle, i promise.” he whispers, his eyes locked on your face. you purse your lips together, gripping chan’s hand as tight as you can.

“it’s okay- ah,” you whimper. “you can go deeper. i can take it.” chan nods, thrusting slightly deeper, eyes blown wide at the sensation.

“fuck, you’re so tight, hyung.” he groans, starting a gentle pace, rocking back and forth out of you. you throw your head back at the burn, squeezing chan’s hand at every thrust. he squeezes back gently.

“puppy, feels so good.”

you can feel chan twitch inside of you, and he collapses onto your chest. he breathes heavily, holding your hand tight, stalling the movement of his hips.

“call me that again.” you chuckle, slipping your free hand into his hair.

“what..? puppy?” chan whines, burying his face into your shirt. he ruts up into you involuntarily, groaning as he pushes deeper into you.

“you’re driving me crazy, hyung.” his thrusts pick up again, going deeper every time. you softly pull his hair, groaning at the wonderful mix of pleasure and pain.

“just like that, puppy, you’re doing so well.” chan gasps into your shirt, his pace growing frantic. he fucks you harder, his free hand gripping your hip tightly. you moan loudly, eyes blown wide, watching chan fall apart on top of you.

“i’m- fuck, i’ll cum if you keep calling me that.” he bites the fabric of your shirt, his dick twitching inside of you as he ruts deeper into you. you squeeze his hand, pulling his hair so he lifts his head. chan looks up at you with teary eyes, a pout on his lips. you pull him closer, kissing him gently, your tongue running over his bottom lip. chan whimpers into the kiss, his dick throbbing inside of you. he slips his tongue inside your mouth, matching the frantic movement of his hips. he bites gently at your bottom lip, licking into you hungrily.

“good boy,” you whisper between kisses. “just like that, puppy.” you suck on chan’s tongue, squeezing his hand. chan moans into your mouth, his thrusts becoming sloppy. he fucks you harder, feeling his orgasm building up.

“hyung!” chan cries out, holding your waist tightly. he gasps between kisses.

“come on, puppy, you’ve got it.” you praise, kissing his nose. “come for me, pretty boy.”

chan chokes out a sob, arching his back, releasing into you. he kisses you hungrily, riding out his high. “i love you, hyung.” he whimpers, spilling his seed into you, pumping it deeper. you pet his hair gently, letting go of his hand. you cup his face, caressing his cheek, wiping a stray tear off his face.

“you did so well for me, puppy. i love you so much.” chan nuzzles his face into your hand, quietly letting the tears fall. “hey, hey, are you okay..?” you panic, frantically wiping his tears with both hands. chan nods in your hands, taking a deep breath.

“yeah, i’m sorry, just…” chan wipes his own tears away, embarrassed. he buries his face into your chest, murmuring. “just overwhelmed.” his voice cracks. your heart aches.

“i know, baby. i’ve got you.” you hold him closer, petting his hair and kissing his scalp. chan whimpers, holding onto you tightly. he lays on top of you, panting heavily, trying to catch his breath.

“you made me feel so good, hyung. thank you.” he mumbles into your shirt. you chuckle, tilting his head up by his chin to meet your eyes.

“anytime, channie. that was perfect.” you kiss chan’s nose. he giggles, kissing your lips tenderly. he smiles into the kiss, burying his face into your neck.

“thank you, hyung.” he whispers, nuzzling his face against your skin. you squeeze chan in your arms, sighing contentedly.

“i’ll hold you as long as you need, but we need to clean up soon, baby.” you caress his back, skating your fingertips along his muscles. chan shivers, snuggling into your embrace. he nods slightly, then slowly sits up, slipping out of you with a groan.

“we- we should clean up now, i think.” you nod, sitting up, wincing as globs of chan’s cum spill out of you onto the bedsheets. you chuckle, looking down at the blankets.

“we’re gonna have to do laundry, too.” chan giggles, helping you up to your feet, kissing your shoulder.

“let’s do that tomorrow, yeah? for now…” chan pulls you in for a passionate kiss. “let’s take a shower, okay?” he whispers against your lips. you nod, rubbing your nose against his.

“good idea, pup.” chan blushes, covering his face with his hand.

“stoppp it, hyung.” he whines, turning away and heading towards the bathroom as you follow closely behind, knowing that tonight is nowhere near over.

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x male reader #bangchan smut #bangchan x reader #bang chan x you #bangchan x you #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz x you #m!reader

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pomefioredove · 1 day

Note

Can we have kalim's ending for the yuu auction as well? I was pretty excited for his outcome

of course of course!

parts 1 | 2 | 3

summary: a kalim ending type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is maybe a little short, hi kalim :)

"Problems don't just go away when you throw money at them, you know," Vil says. The tone of his voice is sour, and he's making no effort to hide it. "You'll have to actually take some responsibility."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oh, shut it. They're not a pet, they can handle themselves. You're just butthurt it wasn't you,"

"And yet, here you are, still moping just the same," he snaps back. "Kalim, congratulations. I'm sure the prefect will- where'd he go?"

Despite their best efforts, Kalim hadn't heard a single word of the other housewarden's well wishes (and warnings).

He was gone before they'd even started, in fact.

Even with all he'd had prepared beforehand- the new room, the uniforms, all of your favorite foods- there was suddenly a list a mile long on his mind.

First, he had to get you.

Then, he had to show you around your new place.

Then, dinner.

Followed by dessert, of course.

(Maybe a light appetizer to start? Why hadn't he thought of that already?!)

And then he'd treat you to an evening of your favorite songs, laughter, and fun.

So on, and so forth.

Kalim may be a little oblivious at times, but your poor condition at Ramshackle is no secret to anyone. He'd been talked out of helping more than once before- and, so, this was his chance.

The gravity of technically owning a person who doesn't legally exist in this world hasn't crossed his mind even once. The way he sees it, he gets to host you indefinitely, take you on vacations with his family, treat you to the life you deserve after all you've done for everyone, and no one can tell him no.

Though, something still sits in the back of his mind, something that asks him to walk before running. A voice of reason.

If Kalim had a shoulder angel and devil, both of them would somehow be Jamil:

"I would advise taking it easy on them as they adjust. This whole spectacle must have been difficult for them. You're a good listener when you try. Now's a chance to show that,"

More than anything, Kalim wants to impress you.

Such a thought would make anyone else scoff- the gold and jewels and magic carpets aren't enough?

And his answer would be... well... no.

Kalim possesses many things. He has entire houses full of treasure, trinkets, fine silks, servants at his every whim... and yet, he's still missing something crucial. Something he's become more and more aware of since coming to NRC.

A bond.

Of course, he loves his siblings. And his parents. And the students in Scarabia. And the students in the other dorms. He might consider all of the above friends, but not at the emotional level he seeks. Jamil is a work in progress. But you- you're already well-acquainted, and friendly. You're a gracious guest, a great listener, and... well, you had the kind of bond he looks for with so many other people on campus.

Why else would everyone be lining up to pay to be your friend otherwise?

(That's how he saw it, anyway).

So, he listens. Makes an effort to, anyway. He even stops feeding Grim at dinner when you ask him to.

"Oops!" he says, offering the direbeast a gold-lined handkerchief to wipe around his mouth. "But it's good, right? Jamil's family recipe is always delicious!"

You quirk a smile at him. "I liked it. Grim?"

Grim mumbles something indistinct and crawls to sit on the other side of you.

"I'm glad! I remember you telling me that you miss it from your home- I can't believe some of our recipes are so similar!" he beams. "Maybe Scarabia will start feeling like a home to you, too, then!"

You laugh, a little awkwardly. "Aha... maybe. This is all just so sudden,"

"But... good, right?"

"Yes, good," you smile, tilting your head to the side. "It's a step up from being Crowley's errand-runner and sleeping in the cold, at least."

"Well, you'll certainly never be cold here!"

He laughs again, and a murmur of agreement ripples through the students in attendance, all the way down to the end of the long table.

"Ah... Kalim, this is nice. Really nice... I don't know how I'm going to repay you for any of this,"

"Pay? Like with money?" he raises an eyebrow. "You're my guest, and an honorary member of Scarabia now, so you don't have to do anything but relax."

That's not exactly what you meant, though you don't have the heart to explain what exactly Crowley's care had been like.

"...Right. But really, if you need anything done- I'll be glad to do it,"

He's quiet for a moment, thinking. "Well... if you're really bored, I'm sure you could find something to do. We have lots of board games,"

"No, I meant like, work,"

Kalim blinks. "Why would you have to work?"

You should've just let it go. Now this is getting embarrassing, admitting all that Crowley had you do when you had no say in the matter.

"You know... to earn my keep,"

"Earn your..." he squints. "You don't have to earn anything. Having you here is reward enough for me!"

Sometimes his oblivious nature can be a little comforting.

And even though it's dark, his positivity is as radiant as the sun... you can't help but return his smile.

"Alright, then,"

"Alright! Now..." he says, looking around the table. "Who's ready for dessert?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #kalim al asim x reader #hope you like this anon <3

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reyzxzc · 7 hours

Text

pregnant

summary: riley is pregnant. dad nico!!

contains: fluff, pure, pure fluff!!, instagram

————

june 25, 2024

riley’s period was late. like two weeks late. and it started to worry her, she wasn’t worried at the beginning because she’s always had on and off periods.

worlds were over (just a guess bc i have no idea when they end)

they were in michigan, riley was helping jack still, he was out of the sling, but still had trouble with his arm.

riley was with jack, quinn, and luke. “i think im pregnant.” riley stated.

“come again?” quinn said. “aren’t you on birth control?” jack asked. “it doesn’t always work. it’s 99.9% of the time, i think.” riley said.

“condoms?” luke pointed out. “okay i’m married, i don’t need a lecture on protection.” riley hit luke on the shoulder.

“yea well seems like you didn’t use any.” luke rolled his eyes. “i will strangle you.” riley said. “you tell nico?” jack asked.

“no. i haven’t taken a test yet” riley shook her head. “then go take one, the hell?” quinn said. “clearly my own brother don’t love me. i’m leaving, i’ll see you guys later.”

riley gave them each a kiss on the head before leaving.

————

the pregnancy test in front of riley said positive, the second one, also said positive.

riley sighed, “hey nico? can you come here please.” riley called. “of course, what’s wrong?” nico asked walking up to the bathroom.

when nico entered the room, he had a confused look on his face.

“i’m pregnant.” riley stated, pointing at the tests. nico looked at the tests, looking back at riley.

“riley that’s amazing.” nico hugged her. riley hugged him back. riley could feel nico’s tears on her neck. riley kissed his head.

nico pulled away, wiping the happy tears streaming down his cheek. “mom. call our moms.” nico said. “yea, you should call yours.. we can tell mine in person.” riley said.

————

july 16, 2024

“okay, mrs. and mr. hischier, the babies are healthy.” the OB, tommy said. tommy is her nickname. “babies?” nico asked.

“yes, twins. here look, this is twin A, and this twin B, we couldn’t see B at first, as they are hiding behind A. but you can see the four sets of fingers and toes.” tommy exlained.

riley nodded. “so there’s two?” nico asked. “yes, nico. two.” riley said, grabbing his hand. nico hummed, squeezing her hand.

“with twins, the pregnancy can be complicated, make sure your taking extra care of yourself, and that husband of yours doesn’t cause any extra stress.” tommy pointed at nico.

riley smiled. “okay i don’t cause stress.” nico rolled his eyes. “whatever you want to believe, sweetheart.” riley kissed his hand.

————

riley_hischier just posted

riley_hischier

caption: we’ve got twins on the way!! coming march 2025 just in time to watch nico play some hockey!!

tagged// nicohischier

comments:

nicohischier: mini hockey players in the making.

- riley_hischier: or whatever that want to be.

lhughes_06: uncle luke. i’m uncle luke.

- riley_hischier: no luke your an aunt

user: OMG!!! DAD NICO I CRIED 😭😭

user: IM SO HAPPY

jackhughes: okay now this is too much.

- riley_hischier: go home.

_quinnhughes: hey hi, twins. we were twins.

- riley_hischier: hey hi, i know.

user: WHAT THE EFF

njdevils: Congrats mrs. and mr. hischier!! 🎉

liked by creator

#riley hughes au #riley hughes #hockey #nhl #nhl players #nhl au #nhl imagine #nico hischier #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #new jersey #new jersey devils #njd nhl #nj devils #dawson mercer #timo meier #curtis lazar

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saras-almanac · 2 days

Text

BuckTommyWeekend Day 1: Alternate First Meeting

Title: This seat taken?

Fandom: 911 (ABC)

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Summary: Buck and Tommy meet at a restaurant for the first time. For the prompt: Alternate First Meeting for @bucktommyweek

Notes: There’s so many potential first meetings for these two both within canon and outside of it. I’m behind on writing for this weekend so just went with one that’s a bit quicker, but will probably expand on in the future before posting to AO3. (And/or might do more potential first meetings because there’s so many options and not all of them will lead to them actually being together at that specific moment in time, but it’d be fun…)

Buck sat at the bar, pretending to check his phone while he glanced over at where Josh and his date were sitting. Josh was seemingly having a good time, plus his date was pretty cute, so maybe this would be a win for him. Buck hoped so.

“This seat taken?”

Buck startled and looked over and saw a man—a very attractive man—stood next to him, inclining a hand toward the stool next to him.

Buck shook his head. “N-no. It’s all yours. I mean, if you want it.”

The man smiled and sat down. “Thanks. Just need to wait for my order.”

As he sat down, Buck noticed a logo on the side of this man’s jacket, one that looked incredibly familiar as it was on Buck’s own work clothes.

“Woah. Is that an LAFD jacket? Are you a firefighter?” Buck asked excitedly.

The man smiled. “Yeah. Work at Harbor station now though. Mostly flying planes and helicopters rather than running into any burning buildings.”

“That’s so cool. I’ve always thought being able to fly a plane, like pilot one, would feel like you have super powers,” Buck said. “Does it feel like that?”

“I suppose that’s a good way to look at it,” the man said. “I’m Tommy, by the way.”

“Evan Buckley,” Buck said, reaching out a hand. Tommy shook it, even at the awkward angle since they were sitting so close together. “So when did you learn to fly?”

“A while ago, back when I was in the Army,” Tommy said.

“Have you always been air support for LAFD?” Buck asked.

“No,” Tommy said. “I was on the ground or many years, but just felt like I was missing it. Transferred to Harbor five, six years ago now. I really missed flying so it was a good choice.”

“I bet,” Buck said. “If I could fly, I’d probably never want to be on the ground.”

“Well, I can give you a tour of the place if you’re interested,” Tommy offered kindly. “Show you some of the toys, how things work.”

“That would be awesome,” Buck said. “But I don’t want to trouble you. I mean, you’re just waiting for your food and I’m talking your ear off about work. I-I’m sure the last thing you want to do is talk about your job after just getting off a shift.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” Tommy said. “And I could have always ignored you or told you I didn’t want to talk about work if I wanted.”

“I guess,” Buck said. “I forget sometimes that not everyone likes talking about their job.”

“So then I guess I have to ask, what do you do?”

“Oh, um,” Buck rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m a firefighter.”

“No kidding,” Tommy said with a laugh. “Which station?”

“The 118,” Buck said proudly.

“Now you’re fucking with me,” Tommy said. “I transferred to Harbor from the 118.”

“That’s crazy! So you do you know Cap? Captain Bobby Nash?” Buck asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “He was just getting settled there when I transferred.”

“What about Hen? You’ve got to know Chimney. I think he’s been there since it was built.”

Tommy smiled and his nose crinkled and Buck had never seen anything more adorable in his entire life. “Howie and I go way back, from before he was called Chimney. And Hen, she’s one of the best firefighters I’ve ever worked with.”

“They’re the best,” Buck said. “It’s so crazy that you know them too!”

Buck glanced over at Josh again. He’d be furious with himself if he got distracted by this god-like man sitting next to him when his friend needed him. Still seemed to be going well.

“I don’t mean to pry, but I do have to ask,” Tommy started, “You’re not stalking those men, are you?”

Buck whipped his head over to look at him. “What?”

“It’s just, I saw you watching them when I first got here. And now you’re looking over again. Just checking things are… all right,” Tommy said.

Buck felt himself blush a bit because he was the world’s worst undercover wingman. “Okay so one of those guys is my friend, Josh. He’s had some rough luck dating and he was feeling a bit nervous, so I offered to come and hang out at the bar while he was on his date. Just in case anything happened, he’d have back up or whatever he needed.”

Tommy blinked. “You’re giving up your night to sit alone at the bar just in case your friend’s date turned out to be an asshole?”

“Yeah. I guess,” Buck said.

Tommy smiled at him, shaking his head fondly. “That’s really sweet of you.”

“I’m just helping out a friend,” Buck said, feeling uncomfortable. “I’d do it for anyone.”

Before they could talk any more, a waitress came out with Tommy’s food, stealing his attention. Their chat was less than 10 minutes but Buck felt like he could have spent hours talking with Tommy. He tried not to be annoyed that his food came and he was going to leave—the man had probably just gotten off a shift, probably a twelve or thirty-six hour shift, based on it being night. Tommy deserved to grab his food and then head home to eat and crash.

It didn’t mean that it didn’t suck though. But it’s fine. Buck would go back to checking his phone and keeping an eye out for Josh.

Tommy placed a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Well, it was a delight to bump into you and I enjoyed our conversation. You made the end of a long thirty-six hours speed by as I waited for my food.”

“I’ve been told I do that,” Buck said, completely distracted by the weight of Tommy’s hand on his shoulder.

Tommy laughed like Buck had told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. He removed his hand and smiled. “And I’m serious about giving you a tour if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Buck said. “Um, should I call the station?”

Tommy smiled again and shook his head. “It’ll be easier if you just let me know directly. I can make sure there’s time and be the one to give you the tour.”

Tommy reached down to grab the pen sitting on top of his receipt and then scribbled his number on a napkin. “Take care, Evan.”

Hearing Evan come out of Tommy’s mouth was surprising, but surprising in a good way—in a way that Buck wasn’t going to think much about right now. “Yeah. Yeah. Uh, you too, Tommy. I’ll—I’ll text you.”

“Sounds good.” Tommy grabbed his bag. “Oh, and good luck with the rest of your date.”

With that, Tommy laughed a little and then walked out, leaving Buck sitting there, carefully holding the napkin and wondering exactly what was happening with fate right now. Maybe his luck was turning around.

#i like this idea of this but not sure about the execution #wish i'd have had more time and mental energy to write this earlier than just last night on a whim but it's still cute so there ya go #bucktommyweekend #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 fic #my fic

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afterglowsainz · 4 hours

Note

hi you said you were free to request someone you haven’t mentioned so i’m wondering if you’d be willing to write something for trent alexander arnold?? anything you won’t but i love angsty -> fluff

i look in people’s windows | trent alexander-arnold

summary: you struggle to move on from your break up with trent until one day you have to face him at your favorite coffee shop

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k

a/n: this wasn't very specific which was great (in a way) because the angst to fluff plot gave me an idea for my tortured athletes series! (i also didn't mean to make this so long, but i hope you enjoy it)

the tortured athletes department series

you're not proud to admit that you still stalk your ex-boyfriend's friends on social media just to see a glimpse of him. it wasn’t that hard considering that you live in liverpool, if you wanted to see his face you just had to go outside and he will be there in any billboard. but there was something more personal about casually watching him on someone’s post. sometimes you just look up liverpool’s account to see him during matches or making fun challenges.

you consider blocking him, blocking his friends and everyone else remotely associated with him, you even did it for two full weeks, but it was impossible not to see him everywhere you look. sure, he was not showing up on your phone, but he was in the streets, he was on the tv playing a game, or acting in a random commercial; he was even in the supermarket next to a product he was the face of.

trent alexander-arnold was absolutely everywhere and he was impossible to escape.

so you unblock him and everyone else and you just see him. not everyday, of course, you weren’t gonna get over him if you stalked his socials every day. maybe once every week you look up one account, and then another, and then another, and you see him, and once you do you turn your phone off and do something else and maybe, you forget about him for a moment.

sometimes you wonder what would happen if your eyes met one more time. would you realize you got over him? would you fall back in love? would he even say hello?

“what can i get you?” the barista behind the counter asks you.

“hi, an iced vanilla latte, please.” you smile. the guy nods and charges you, moving quickly to the next client.

you sit down in a booth while waiting for your name to be called, and play with your phone in the meantime. suddenly, a huge shadow blocks the natural light that was hitting your face and you shift your face from your phone to the stranger who sits in front of you, only it wasn’t a stranger at all.

“y/n.” trent whispers your name with a smile.

you were a bit shocked to see him in person, like it was the first time you lay your eyes on him all over again.

“hey.” you respond. he chuckles at your lack of words.

“i knew it was you the second i heard your voice.” he points at the register. “an iced vanilla latte as always.” he repeats your coffee order and only then you register the situation.

before you have a chance to say something, you hear your name being called throughout the whole coffee shop, announcing your order was ready.

“stay there.” he says before you have the chance to even stand up. “i’ll go get it.” you didn’t know what to say so you just nodded and he made his way to the front, claiming your coffee and getting it to you.

“thank you.” you say when he was finally in front of you again.

neither of you say anything for a few seconds. you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, but it did feel odd to be there with him, not saying anything.

“nice jacket.” you mention, just to fill the silence.

“you like it?” he unconsciously touch it and smiles at you like he always did.

“mhm, it's pretty.” you take a sip from your coffee.

“i haven’t seen you in a while. how are you?” he asks.

you were about to answer when you got interrupted again by the barista calling his name to get his coffee. he quickly made his way to the front and back, sitting in your booth in no time.

“what is that?” you ask with a grimace, looking at his order. it was some sort of juice? you couldn’t really tell.

“it’s a pomegranate lemonade.” he shrugs. you arch a brow and he shakes his head smiling. “don’t look at me like that when you drink vanilla flavored coffee.”

a laugh escapes your lips and you just agree, still confused by his drink of choice but not making any more comments.

“how are you?” he repeats his question.

“good.” you lie to him. “you?”

“bad.” he says.

“oh?” this took you by surprise. “what happened?” you try to remember if maybe he lost any big game recently or if something happened to any friend of his, but you can’t remember anything of relevance.

“i just…” he exhales and takes a sip from his lemonade. “i’ve been missing you. a lot, actually. a bit more everyday.”

your face grows hotter by the confession and you just look at him without reacting.

“why are you saying this?” you ask the first thing that comes to your mind.

“because.” he shrugs. “why not? i’ve miss you so much since we broke up i can’t think of anything else, and now i feel like i’ve think you so much i actually manifested you and now we're both at the same coffee shop at the same time, i mean, what are the odds of that, you know?” he rambles and you feel your heart beating in your throat.

to be fair, this was the same coffee shop you both used to go to while you were still dating. and you both still live in the same city. and you’ve been stalking him on social media so you might’ve manifested him as well by accident.

“you woke up brave this morning, didn’t you?” you joke lightly and the shadow of a smile takes over his lips. “i didn’t know you still think about me.” you say instead of confessing your feelings back at him.

“you’re not an easy one to forget.” his eyes clocked in with yours and you felt like everything was the way it used to be.

why did you even break up in the first place? looking at his chocolate eyes you couldn’t even remember anymore. you finally clear your throat to speak, but he interrupts you.

“you don’t have to say anything right now,” he pleads. “i don’t… if you’re gonna say something that’s gonna break my heart for good, i don’t think i’m prepared to hear it just yet.”

his eyes look away from yours, but you’re still watching him.

“i think about you too.”

your voice was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear it and look at your eyes, straight into your soul.

“we should talk, no?” you knew he was battling a triumphant smile but he kept a straight face for you. you nod. “wanna take a walk?” he points to the window with his head, but you shake your head.

“it’s too cold outside.” you say and he laughs, shaking his head as well.

“you and cold.” he rolls his eyes amused.

“hey.” you slap his arm playfully. “i have sensitive skin.” you defend yourself.

at that moment you felt grateful for this little plot from destiny that had brought you and trent together again. you didn’t have to wonder ‘what if, you didn’t have to avoid seeing him downtown, you didn’t have to look into people's windows anymore. his eyes meet yours one more time, and now you know.

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold one shot #liverpool x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold x y/n #football #football one shot #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold imagine #taa66 #taa18 #trent alexander arnold gif #trent alexander arnold angst

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heazueken · 23 hours

Text

Can I believe You? - Part 1

*ೃ༄ summary: Nanami leaves behind the Jujutsu world fresh out of high school and reader resents him fir abandoning not only you but Haibara too. warning(s): body horror, violence, graphic violence, major character death, angst...lots of angst, mdni pairing(s): nanami kento/reader wc; 4.1k a/n: got the courage to post this hear too but you can find this on my ao3 too! there is a lot of angst in this...just a warning

______________________________________________

“Did I ever tell you that you’re my type, Y/N?” Haibara says your name cheerfully when you set your lunch tray down on the table. A laugh escapes you, finding joy in how brash and unapologetically blunt Haibara was. It was one of the many things you had admired about him.

“And why is that, Haibara?” Geto, Gojo, and Shoko side eyed you two, their ears perking to listen in on the conversation. A blush washes over you, the attention being all on you now and you nervously poke and prod at the food in front of you. Nanami pays no mind, Shoko had decided that he better spend his time massaging her shoulder than listen to you and Haibara blabber on.

“Because, you eat well, you’re strong and you’re super pretty!” You laugh, so innocent, so plain. Haibara felt like such a normal person that he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb as a classmate learning jujutsu. You admired him for his stubbornness to prove people wrong and always study hard, put his own life before your own.

“Well then, if I’m your type, how come you haven’t asked me out on a date?” He smiles and lets you eat a little more before he answers, folding his arms over the cafeteria table.

“I don’t ask out girls who aren’t interested in me back.”

“How do you know I’m not interested in you?”

You watch his eyes flicker to the side at Nanami, then back at you. A silent discussion between the two of you occurs and your cheeks flush in realization. You curse at Haibara has he immediately falls into a fit of giggles, you throw your rice at him, Gojo hears the commotion and helps you empty your plate on him while Shoko laughs, Geto sits there quietly watching and Nanami is scolding the two of you to stop.

“Geto hasn’t been looking so good,” Haibara mentions to you and Nanami. He’s sitting on the stairs in the school hallway and lays his head in his head, sighing.

“I tried to cheer him up, I’m not sure it worked, though.”

You put a comforting hand on Haibara’s arm, rubbing your thumb over his uniform.

“You tried. That’s the best anyone can do. I’m sure you helped a little.” Haibara gave you a weak, genuine smile and you knew you gave him a little comfort in that moment.

You heard about what happened from Nanami. The mission going terribly wrong, the Star Plasma Vessel - who you learned to be a girl Rika - dead. Assassinated by a man who had threatened their lives, left the both of them on the verge of death, thankfully Gojo was able to use his reverse cursed technique. Geto was left with the sight of watching Rika die right in front of him, pool of blood forming beneath the girl after Geto had offered to take her back home, offered to let her live the life she had deserved. Of course the trauma of that would send anyone into a spiral, you knew of that, and yet, it seemed like no one else could understand why he had been in such a funk. You remember Gojo taking you aside to talk about it, mentioning that he had asked him if anything was wrong, that he looked thin and wasn’t eating.

“And he…it’s like he forced himself to look at me and I could see that fake smile when he told me he was fine. That it’s the fatigue the heat brings him,” He shrugs his shoulders passively.

“Why didn’t you push him to tell you more?” You demand, trying to meet eyes with Gojo but with the sunglasses it was impossible. You couldn’t see the look in them but you saw his eyebrows slowly come together, creasing the skin.

“Because, I want to believe that he’s actually okay. I want to believe that he’s telling me the truth.”

You and Gojo both know he wasn’t.

“Satoru, he told you what had happened. How could anyone walk away from that without having felt some guilt?”

Gojo didn’t look at you, ashamed, he knew you were telling the truth but he had refused to see it.

“Because we’re the strongest.” He said simply. You couldn’t argue with him.

You saw Geto when you were heading back to your room. He looked sluggish, his feet dragged behind him and his head hung low.

“Suguru,” you said quietly, softly stepping towards him. He raised his head then and you saw what Gojo had described. His lips curled into a smile that did not look like the one you knew so well. This was not the Geto you had befriended so early in the school year. This was someone playing a part, someone who was hiding something, hiding a deep pain that he was keeping from the rest of his classmates. His eyes looked glassy, like he wasn’t even looking at you truly.

“Y/N,” he responds gently. “What’s up?”

Words fell silent against your tongue and you couldn’t seem to form what you wanted to say.

“I….what happened?”

He shrugged. There was a long silence between the both of you.

“One moment I'm standing there with her and the next she’s a bloody heap at my feet.”

The smile still remained on his face and your blood ran cold. The mission had failed. You already knew that but it had explained why you had heard about the Start Religious Group celebrating the death of the vessel. You could not come up with anything to say, you stared at Geto and your hands raised to cover your mouth in shock.

“Suguru-“

“I’ll be fine, Y/N,” he began walking again, the sound of his feet dragging on the floorboards was the only thing that could be heard down the long hallway. You watched him until he disappeared into his dorm before you could finally find the words. Not that they would have given him any comfort anyway.

I’m sorry.

You hadn’t want to use your technique, not when you knew it would harm Haibara and Nanami. But when you saw the curse thrash Nanami into a building did you feel the smoke ooze out of your palms in a desperation that hindered you still. Your eyes widened and your fist clamped around the naginata staff, your eyes caught where Nanami’s body slumped, his weapon laid next to him as you saw blood trickle from his mouth. A rage increased inside you and you readied your weapon, feeling the poisonous vapor enshroud the weapon before you. You had to use it now.

Before you could leap and attack you saw Haibara. Only a flash of him when he ran to Nanami’s side. He lifted him, shaking him and though you couldn’t hear, you could see him frantically yelling for him to wake up. Haibara had one eye shut, blood pooled from his head and over it, his hands were covered in his own blood and you watched him smear it across Nanami’s face as he desperately shook him to consciousness.

The curse roared, its tentacles reached and flashed across the area towards you, but you were quicker. Your blade sliced the tentacle off and the smoke secreting from the weapon soaked itself into the skin of the curse and it quickly began to bubble. The skin grew blisters, they turned plump and pink and the curse took a moment to stare at its large stump before screeching in pain when the blisters burst, puss oozed and more vapor poured out of them. The monster began thrashing, the remaining tentacles swung and destroyed the buildings around it. It screamed obscenities and you rushed forward, slicing another limb off. Your feet were quick, running along another one, letting your blade glide across its green skin and let more spores awake in its path. You glance just for a second to see Nanami finally getting up, pushing Haibara away in an attempt to run and help you fight. You kept the curse further away because your technique was considered a curse, even if humans came into contact with it it would cover their bodies in horrible blisters and eat away at you from the inside. You had learned to channel it through your weapons to make the smoke more precise and less dangerous. But you had to release a puff of the poisonous smoke from your hand to keep the away from your friends.

Nanami screams your name, this monster wasn’t a grade 2 like they thought.

It grabbed you with one of its untouched tentacles, throwing you down to the ground. Your weapon falls from your grasp and before you can register what had happened you hear a sound of bones breaking, skin squelching and what sounded like someone releasing a pail of water across the floor. It was blood.

Haibara stands in front of you. You look up at him, his back to you and you see it. The curse had stabbed right through his body, the limb poking out of his back. Your mouth opens into a silent scream and you can only watch as he vomits blood and more blood and more until his body immediately goes limp.

You don’t remember much. The world seemed to be spinning. You were pulled aside by someone, people in suits and sorcerers more powerful than you finally arrived and you watched them massacre the curse. Your eyes trail to where Haibara had been left lying there, forgotten in the heat of the fight. A flame ignited in you and you fought against the strong arms of what you assumed was another sorcerer holding you back.

“Let me go, let me go!” You screamed. “Haibara! We have to-“

“We can’t! Not yet!” The sorcerer responded, grip becoming tighter on you.

“Get the fuck off me!” Your voice strained. “We have to save him! Let me fucking go!” You thrashed, kicking dirt up with your feet in an effort to get to Haibara. You felt defeated when you couldn’t even wiggle one arm from the person's grasp.

You saw people with medical masks and long white coats run to his body, placing him on a stretcher and frantically talking to one another as they ran to the vehicle waiting for them. You see Shoko, scrambling outside the car, her face also covered with a mask. She turns to you, catching your gaze and you hold onto it, your eyes begging for some answer.

Will he be okay?

She shook her head.

You don’t remember how or when you had calmed down but the next moment you were in a car with Nanami beside you. You look over to him and he was staring blankly, blood, Haibara’s blood now dried on his face. He wouldn’t look at you - couldn't look at you.

Everything felt numb.

“That was a first grade case.” The severity of the situation hit you like a damn train in that moment. Your vision became blurry and uneven, your hands grappled to the handlebars of where he lay and the tears dripped onto the shroud. There were dark tear stains riddled across the blue of the fabric and the moment Geto finally, finally pulled it over to cover Haibara’s pale, bloodied face did you crouch and sob with all your might. The tears streamed down your face, falling to your knees and letting your hair trap around your face like blinders, your ears thumped with blood rushing loudly. A sinking feeling fell inside your stomach as you struggled to breathe but more sobs broke out instead. Your stomach began to turn, the world becoming quiet and muffled around you and you didn’t notice Nanami crouching next to you, not until you felt his hand on your shoulder.

Don’t comfort me. What’s done is done. Your comfort can’t bring him back. Don’t comfort me. I don’t deserve it.

The tears dried your throat and you began to retch, they were empty gags but the tears refused to stop even when your body begged for them to. You couldn’t shy away from Nanami’s touch and the way his palm tried to soothe over your back. Your crying didn’t subside until you had passed out.

Haibara was dead and it was your fault.

“Y/N,” Nanami said softly. “It’s okay.” He’s crying too but you don’t see it, can’t hear him when you’re unconscious on the floor.

Everything is black. You’re in a void and all you can see is Haibara's broken, bloodied body on the ground. Several of them littered around your feet, you look around and it’s endless, the bodies, the blood soaking into his uniform and pooling around your feet. Your stomach churns at the sight before you, watching the blood go up and up, rising over the toes of your shoes. You try to scream, but no sound comes out. All you can smell is blood and all you can see his Haibara. Tears stream down your face.

I’m sorry! I’m sorry!

You feel a set of hands on your shoulders, gripping you. You blink your eyes open and the bodies are gone. Except one. Haibara’s standing in front of you, grasping you so tight you think he’ll shatter the bones in your shoulders.

“Y/N,” he doesn’t look right. His face is contorted, blood is pooling out of his mouth and onto the ground. His eye is an empty socket with a cascade of blood running down the expanse of his cheek.

“Why didn’t you save me?” He asks with an eerie frown. You gasp and find your voice.

“They wouldn’t let me get to you! I tried to-“

“You weren’t strong enough. I died because you failed.” He would never say these things. Never. And yet it felt like that truth. Still, you shook your head.

“I did my best! It was a grade 1 curse! I tried to save you! I tried to save Nanami! You-“

“You failed,” He said, every word he spoke blood only poured out, staining his teeth red. “You weren’t strong enough.”

Haibara was dead and it was because you weren’t strong enough to save him.

You awoke in your bed with a gasp, sitting up immediately. Tears stained your cheeks already when the memories came flooding back to you.

“Y/N!” It was Nanami. He had been sitting down beside your bed, you guessed he had fallen asleep judging by the small rim of red around his eyes. Or maybe he had been crying just as much as you have. He reached for you, his hand grabbing yours and the other one going around your shoulder to support you. The room began to spin and little black stars riddled around your field of vision as your head thumped like a drum.

“Careful, you sprained a few ribs.” He gently said. You looked at Nanami, his face has a look of concern, your heart warmed at the realization that he had stuck by next to you for however long you were unconscious.

“H-how long was I out?”

Nanami pulled away, letting you lean back against your beds headboard.

“Couple of hours at least. You were talking in your sleep.”

The dream came flooding back to you and you held Nanami’s gaze for a beat, wondering what to say. What had you said?

“I’m sorry…” You leaned back, the ache of your bruised body finally making itself known. “What…what do we do now?” Your hand rubs gently over the bruises riddled over your ribs.

Nanami sat with the question for a bit. Sitting back in the chair beside you and rubbing his fingertips across the wrapped cloth on his arm, blood starting to creep its way to the surface. He’ll have to change his bandages soon.

“We recover and go back to work.”

Your stomach sank, something felt different. The vessel incident, now Haibara…everything seemed to be too much. Like their entire world was crashing down with them.

You’re weak. That’s why. More people are going to die because of your lack of skill. Blood is on your hands because you weren’t strong enough to protect Haibara.

“Hey,” Nanami said, putting his good hand on your shoulder. You blinked at him, taken out of your egregious stupor. Your eyes met with his brown ones and your heart beat a little faster.

“It’ll be…alright. I think. As long as we have each other, right?”

You always had Nanami and Haibara at your side. Now with him gone your only option was to support Nanami and he support you. You two needed each other now. It was the right thing to do. You nod.

You would become stronger for Haibara.

It got easier, as time went on. Nanami had stayed by your side and you stayed by his as the two of you recovered. 2 months flew by and you two were sitting in your dorm together, still bandaged up but you both were able to eat more. You looked down at your rice, sifting your chopsticks through it.

“I miss him.” You say. Nanami doesn’t need to ask who you’re speaking about and he pushes his hair to the side to get a good look at you.

“Me too.” He reaches over, he smiles, it’s sad and it carries a silent apology with it. He squeezes your wrist in comfort.

“He wouldn’t want us to be sad. He’d want you well fed and healed. Now eat.” You brought the rice to your mouth, eyes still skimming across Nanami’s face as he elegantly finished his food. You noticed he’d grown more, was starting to look more like a man. In just 2 months his jaw had seemed more sharp, his shoulders bigger, hands larger and warm when they touched your healing skin. His hair had also grown…longer.

“When are you going to cut that hair off, hm?”

He turned to you. “What? Is it an eyesore?”

You wrinkle your nose, “Yes, and it’s lame. You look like - what do they call it? A scene kid.” He rolls his eyes as you giggle.

“Finish your damn food already.”

You always had a crush on him. Even now, when he smiled at you - which you rarely saw him do - did the butterflies release inside you, a laugh released from you and there was a sharp pain in your side - sending you into a coughing fit, you groaned because damn, those bruised ribs fucking hurt. Nanami patted your back, trying to comfort you but it only caused more pain to ache throughout your body. You shove him away, a fit of giggles and coughing and groaning filling the room and you think for a moment how much you had admired Nanami for sticking by you throughout all of this. He had suffered a great loss, too.

Nanami Kento was the strongest man you had known.

Nanami Kento was a coward.

You hadn’t suspected a thing. Although, he had been starting to keep to himself a lot more as the years passed. It wasn’t particularly out of character for him so of course you were ignorant to the plans he had been setting up ever since Haibara died. Freshly graduated, pride still riddled across your face as you strutted through the halls, chest pumped up and high on the fact that you were Number 1 on the honor roll list. You wanted to share the happiness with your best friend, perhaps get some drinks with him. The thought of it makes your face go hot. You open the shoji door to one of the classrooms that Nanami frequented with you, a smile big and bright on your face.

“Nanami, I-“

Nanami was not there. In his place was Gojo Satoru, leaning against one of the student desks. He adorned his iconic sunglasses, laying further down on the bridge of his nose so you could see a glimpse of his pure sapphire blue eyes. Your smile quickly fades and your shoulders lower. A stone sinks inside your stomach.

“Gojo, what-“

“He left.”

You immediately ask, “Who?” The air became suffocating when Gojo pushed himself off the desk and walked closer to you. His footsteps echo across the room and he looks at you with an empathetic look and you know his answer. It feels as though a curse has wrapped its spindly fingers around your throat when Gojo finally answers.

“Nanami. He left this morning. Told Yaga that he was leaving jujutsu high.”

No. No, that’s not right. That can’t be right. The feeling on your throat felt tighter, pins and needles pinched the inside of your esophagus and your eyes began to burn, tears threatening to resurface. What used to be such a drafty, cold room began hot, too hot. There was no storm and yet you heard thunder and lightning, it felt like the walls around you were crumbling down. A tear threatened at your waterline and you blinked, letting it fall down your cheek. Your stomach squeezed and it made you stumble slightly.

“Y/N-,” Gojo grabbed your shoulders, supporting you against his side.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” You couldn’t focus on the sound of his voice, only mumbling to him so he’d know you at least still acknowledged he was there. He had an arm around your shoulder and grabbed onto your wrist with his other hand, holding you steady to guide you to one of the desks. You slumped onto the seat, your mind running through all the things Nanami had said to you. Promising that he’d stay by your side. That you would stay by his. Your throat began to burn again. Your hand tightened into a fist.

No, you could not. Not in front of Gojo. Not even in front of yourself could you cry anymore. It didn’t do anything - only caused a headache, made you feel sick to your stomach, had you on the floor heaving and gasping, hoping for it to end. It only showed the weakness you had shown when you had seen Haibara dead beneath the shroud. Gaining control of your emotions, releasing them through weapons, training your body until you were throwing up and your muscles ached was the only way you knew how to express the feelings that you held close to yourself. You had to get ahold of yourself. You slammed your fist on the desk in front of you and Gojo cocked his head in curiosity.

“Where did he go?” You finally ask, hiding your face in the palm of your hand. Gojo was silent for a moment, you glanced at him. He had pushed his glasses all the way up the bridge of his nose so you could not meet his eyes. You could tell by the way he shuffled on his feet and his hands slid into his pockets that he was almost anxious to answer you.

“He, uh, went into business, I guess? Salaryman.”

A salaryman. Pathetic. Rather than protect people from curses and carry on Haibara’s legacy he decided to leave that behind to pursue a life of money and long hours in a stuffy cubicle. Standing around with other men in suits who only spoke of politics and how much wealth they had. He’d rather dedicate his life to a big company. Just like that, he ran off like a fucking coward. The sadness that had settled inside you boiled into a fiery anger, your hands clenching and immediately getting up. The chairs legs scrapped across the floor in a loud and screeching sound and you pushed it back into place with a force that was so great you were almost worried you’d break the wood beneath your grip.

“Y/N, I’m sorry about him. I tried to tell him that you would appreciate to be told but he didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t want to?” Your anger burned your skin, “He didn’t want to tell me that he was abandoning the school, abandoning the people out in the world that need saving.” You took a deep breath, “Abandoning me?” Abandoning Haibara.

He was running away like a coward. Hatred seeped into your anger and spread like the disease ridden smoke that oozed from your weapons. Gojo didn’t say a word because there was nothing else to say, so of course he stood there with his mouth a straight line, shoulders still and hands at his side now.

“Goodbye, Satoru. Thank you for telling me.” You couldn’t direct your anger at Gojo, he didn’t deserve it. You needed the training room, you needed to feel the weight of your weapon under your grasp and the blisters that awakened from the strain of the wood staff, to feel sweat trickle down your forehead and the satisfying ache of your muscles.

Nanami had been the strongest, sweetest man you had known and he had turned into a coward. Perhaps you and Haibara never mattered to him. You hoped to never see him again for the heartbreak would be too great.

#jjk #pepper writes #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujustu kaisen #nanami x reader #nanami fanfic #i hope you guys like this ooffffff

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