#and burn your initials on my shoulder

[abyssruler]

As we danced to the Masochism Tango

Bash in my brain And make me scream with pain Then kick me once again And say we'll never part

I know too well I'm underneath your spell So, darling, if you smell Something burning, it's my heart

excuse me!

[uranium]

this is still the craziest song ever....and she was born in 1959

[van-der-linde-worms]

Take Your Cigarette From Its Holder, Burn Your Initials On My Shoulder

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/ Mary Gillis Linton

Fic summary: AU in which Mary is wanted for the murder of her husband and that of her father, and Arthur is a bounty hunter going after her.

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Idiots in love, slow burn

~~~~~~

Chapter XIII: Unrequited

Word count: 7980

Last chapter: Chapter XII

“Hey, Arthur!” Mary calls out from the kitchen. “ ‘fore it gets too cold, I was figuring we could head out for a little camping trip. It’s clear out anyway.” Mary pauses for a moment. “You know anything about constellations?”

“Stars? Eh, I know the north star I guess,” he mutters as he stretches his arms. “When do ya wanna go then?”

“What'd you say about today?”

He looks up at her as he picks up his pants from the floor. “Today? Hm, can't blame ya for getting bored, being stuck here all day 'n stuff.”

“So, it's a yes then?” she asks, just loud enough for him to hear her over the sizzling of whatever she is cooking in the pot.

“'course.” He puts on his shirt and makes his way to her. He can hear a faint laughter and his arms encircle her waist, making his heart flutter.

A blissful sigh escapes his mouth as he nuzzles his jaw against her hair. The top of her head is just at the perfect height for his chin to rest on. His arms tighten around her, the soft smell of her hair is almost heavenly to him. 

“What's a good time then?” she asks. Arthur lets out a low croon and looks down at the colourless, chunky mix in the pan. 

“We ain’t in a hurry. What’re you making anyway? Eggs?” 

“It’s oatmeal. I uh, didn’t have coffee so I grabbed the wrong dish. It’ll be fine, just slather some jam on there, it’ll be fine,” she reassures herself. Arthur looks away and shuts his eyes, he could have sworn whatever the eldritch menace in the pot is certainly isn’t oatmeal.

“Looks fine,” Arthur lies. 

“I just had a look in the news and I read some comet’s supposed to pass earth around this month!” Mary gushes. “I’ve heard they��re so pretty.”

“It’d be nice to get out with you again, Mary. We ain’t done anything since…” Arthur trails off. 

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking of. I think near that decrepit old ranch would be nice, there’s lots of open space and the view is just gorgeous.”

“Sure.” Frankly it sounds rather romantic, but he doesn’t dare get his own hopes up. She’d been so kind to him, despite the situation.  If only it could be anything more. 

“So, if we head out around eight, I think we should head out on foot this time. I think it should be safe, no bears or anything.” she twirls around, her skirt hits his shin ever so gently. She stands on her toes and steals a kiss from his lips. She finds one of the jars and quickly pops it open. Arthur nods and moves the pot from the hot stove.

“Ain’t you energetic?” he begins shoveling the odd food onto plates, unsure of whether to add  knives and forks or spoons to go beside them. 

“Well, I’d just like to spend some time with you again. It’s lonely out there, on your own,” she slaps a spoonful of their sweet jelly on the chunks, trying to mask it. She steadily adds more. Arthur grabs his plate before she can add more. 

“Thank you.” Mary stops a spoonful later. The two sit down again. 

A look of slight discontent spreads across her features as she prods at the clumps, mashing the jam in with her spoon. The first rays of sunlight twinkle in her dark eyes, a murky orange glow peeks through her lashes. Her lower lid moves ever so slightly, the soft lines around her eyes cast gentle shadows,, her soft crows feet twitch as she takes a bite of the food. She couldn’t be more perfect, she couldn’t possibly be prettier, she couldn’t be any more wonderful and… god, I love her, I love her more than anything, more than anyone. If only.

“I was thinkin’ I’ll go down to the post again today, see if Hosea’s written back yet.”

“Could you check if Jamie wrote back too? They’re getting graded again right about now, they should be getting them back and I want to see how he did this time.”

“Sure, you need anything from the store?” Arthur asks. The porridge isn’t that bad, just weird looking. There’s too much jam to his liking. 

“I’d just like the letter, thank you. Oh, there should be some mint around there too!” She notes After a period of silence, she speaks up again.. “Y’know, back in the day I used to be pretty good at finding herbs. Whatever the cattle hadn’t stomped was always good, used to be that we’d dry them out to be eaten.” “You mind pickin’ some then?”

 “If we even find any.” 

“It’s high time I get moving then, if we ever wanna get out there on time,” Arthur stands up, picking up their empty plate. Mary brings hers to the sink as well. Arthur quickly kisses her again before he steps out. 

Arthur rides out to the post, taking his time. The autumn air was unusually warm that day. The ride passes by slowly as he enjoys the fading summer sun.

There were a few letters at the post office, this time . He didn’t often get mail, but this time was different. Mary got one from Jamie, Arthur got one from Hosea, another from John and one from Albert Mason, a photographer he ran into a bit ago. As he checks through the letters, Charles enters. 

“Arthur, hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” he pulls Arthur out of his thoughts. 

“Charles. Yeah, been busy with somethin’. How’ve ya been?”

“Same as before, been trying to find you around.”

“Figure we should catch up some time. You think we could go hunting some time tomorrow, catch up?”

“Sure. But I gotta get moving now, got someone to meet in town.”

“I'll see you at the ol' spot in the mornin' then?”

“Yeah, sure.”

*****

The sun is hardly touching the horizon when Arthur arrives home, yet he can already see the ceramic pot steaming on the stove.

“Ain’t it a bit early for dinner?” 

“Figured since we're heading out we should eat early. I’m not letting you slip on eating, you’re too thin as is.” She rubs his cheek. His heart skips a bit. I love you.

She notices the letters in his hands, he picks out the one from Hosea, eyeing it as if it were a trap. “Who’s that from?”

“Hosea.” Arthur sits down and tears it open. His eyes scan the text, his expression shifting from concern to an amused chuckle. 

“What is it then?” she asks from the stove. 

“John got some girl knocked up in town, I did tell ya about John?”

She thought for a while before shaking her head, “Don't think so. What about him?”

Arthur shakes his head, as if in disapproval, though the mischievous grin on his face remains. “He's been heading to the bathhouse a lot. 'm pretty sure Dutch was still alive the last time he took a bath. Apparently a girl there caught his eye and, well, now little Johnny Marston's gonna be a pa.”

She lifts her eyebrows, surprised, “Oh? Send my congratulations to them then.”

“Nah, don't think John's too happy about it,” he says, folding the paper and shoving it into one of the drawers. “'sea wants me to have a talk with him later. Oh, and here's Jamie's letter”

“Thanks,” she says, carefully tearing the envelope open.

He observes her face as she scans the letter. A small smile creeps up her face. Insignificant as it is, her joy is contagious to him. “How’s the boy doing?”

“Did pretty well in his first test; he joined some club in school too. I’m glad he’s finally making more friends.”

“Good for him,” he shakes the strap of the satchel off his shoulder. “Meanwhile I have my brat of a brother.”

“Oh come on Arthur, he’s just a kid. I guess he just ain't ready to be a dad.”

“Him? A kid? Nah, he may be a manchild but he's a grown man, whether he likes it or not.”

“How old is he even?”

“20 or so. I know, barely older than Jamie, but ain’t no kid. He messes around, he gotta deal with the consequences.”

“I guess,” she shrugs, going back to work at the counter. “Poor girl though. What is he gonna do then?”

“Somethin’ dumb most probably. He is John.” 

“He ain’t gonna leave them is he?”

“He wouldn’t do somethin’ like that. Think ‘Sea’s pushin’ him to marry her now.” “Well I guess that’s good then, she ain’t just gettin’ left in the dust.” she sighs, measuring out some salt. 

“Figure this is the dumbest thing he’s pulled in years. You’re lucky Jamie ain’t like that.”

“That boy's done his fair share of stupid stuff too, believe me.”

“Do I dare ask?” Arthur asks with a chuckle.

“C’mon now Arthur, ain’t like every kid can go running around like John.” Mary scoffs. “Why, it’ll be getting dark soon, we should get movin’ after eating if we wanna catch anything.”

“You got anythin’ else planned?”

“Not really.”

“How do you even pick out them constellations?”

“Well you have to look at em or have someone else point ‘em out. I figure I could make something up too.”

“Y’know, back in the bad old days ‘sea used to teach me about the stars. Thing is he doesn’t know a damn thing about them and there ain’t no thing called an Aphana star or a wolf constellation.”

“Oh, but there is! It’s actually called the Lupus constellation and it should be in view in June!”

“Welp. I think it was back in the winter though, any idea if it’s visible then?”

“Nope.”

“Hosea’s got a way with bullshitting anyway, ain't a surprise. Should’ve asked Dutch, he’d’ve known.”

“What did Dutch know then?”

“Something about astrology, how stars are s’pposed to affect how people are.” 

“Hm? Horoscopes?”

“That, yeah. Think he got over it once he got to Marx.”

“Marx? Karl Marx?”

“You know him?”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“Dutch wouldn’t goddamn shut up about him for a year, least it was better than the Greek phase.”

“Greek phase? This Dutch guy was into a lot of stuff huh.”

“All kinds of it, but none of them ever lasted.” Arthur grumbles as he sets the table, the memory of Dutch bringing a faint smile to his face.  

She carefully fills the bowl with scoops of stew, filled with chunks of meat and carrots, and waits for them to cool down before placing them on the table. She sits down next to him as he sends the spoon into his mouth.

It doesn't taste too bad, the broth is flavourful and well seasoned, but the meat is  tough, probably overcooked. 

“How is it?”

“Tastes like rubber,” he teases, laboring his teeth through the meat.

“That's what Barry said. Unfortunately the poor guy didn’t live to tell the tale.”

He raises his eyebrow at her rather dark joke, “What, you're gonna poison me too?” 

 “Well if I am you would have tasted something, my dear,” she jokes. Arthur chuckles and shakes his head.

“True that. Tastes fine though, you’ve improved.” 

“Thank you, means a lot from someone who’s clearly burnt out his taste buds.”

He quickly empties his bowl, despite his complaints. She is still eating as he drops his bowl in the sink.

“Gonna pack for the night, you mind doin' the dishes?” he says, putting on his hat as he unlocks the door.

*****

She potters around the home, gathering things, excitement painted on her face, the kind of innocent glee he had grown to adore. He grabs the bedrolls from where he had put them. Her’s seems rather worn and dirty, something he’d rather take. She’d get cold far more easily anyway. Mary paces into the room, grabbing something from the closet. 

“C’mon then! It’s really perfect timing, new moon and all!”

“Comin’”, he answers. “Gonna saddle up Boadicea. You grab something warmer, s’a little chilly tonight.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Oh, now you’re nagging me?”

He shakes his head, though not exactly in denial, “Like you ain’t always cold.”

“None of your coats fit me— here, take this,” she shoves a wool blanket into his arms. “Besides, I know you’ll keep me warm.”

“ ‘ppose we don't need this then,” he gestures to the blanket in his hands.

“Guess we don’t. You’re enough for me.” 

His heart skips a beat. He knows all too well that it's only a joke, but to think that he would ever be enough for someone like her… he would never be enough, but, if she really thinks so…

Her voice pulls him out of his stupor, “We better hurry up.”

“Sure,” he mutters, once again leaving the house to load the bundles in his arms onto Boadicea. Making sure that she has brought her compass and matches— even though Arthur has probably got these in his satchel, he's always prepared for everything— she throws a scarf over her shoulder and swiftly ties it around her neck, a simple makeshift cloak to protect her from the cold, before stepping out to join him.

****

The spot she mentioned isn't too far away, and they have got themselves settled in no time. She gathers some errand branches for firewood as he sets up the tent.

Arthur joins her around the fire once he is done. He watches as she gazes into the flames, the light of the fire dancing on her face.

“When did it happen, the thing with John?” Mary asks.

“Last week or so I guess. Why?”

“Well, I just keep thinkin’ about it. Ain’t really fair somethin’ like that could just happen,”

“Really ain’t. Don’t dwell on it too much, ain’t like things would change anyway.”

“I know. Y’know we used to try for kids plenty, Barry and I, and nothing ever came of it. He got sons already ‘n he always blamed me for it.”

Her expression is calm, yet Arthur still feels a needle poking at his heart upon her words. “Oh. Must’ve been a hell of a thing.” 

“I guess.” The air between them once again falls to silence, the only sound being the crackling of the fire and the occasional crinkling of the grass as the wind makes its way through their swaying stems. “Heh, well, lucky thing I s’ppose. Never felt more trapped than back then with him in that place.”

Arthur inches his hand ever closer to hers, placing it in her open palm. Perhaps it’s an attempt to comfort her when he lacks the words to do it in any other way. Her skin feels wonderfully soft on his fingertips, the calluses under a delicate silken layer. The warmth emanates from her palm, her fingers are rather cool to the touch. Each wrinkle in her palm imprints itself in his mind, the contour of the muscle operating her thumb, the tiny little scars from a million little accidents over years, burns, cuts, abrasions. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but once again nothing comes out.

She pulls him close, placing a kiss on his cheek. He can feel his cheeks reddening, and he knows for a fact that it isn't the heat from the fire. I love you. 

She pulls herself onto his lap again, her lips meet his. The soft tingling doesn’t last for long. Mary’s fingers slip into his hair as she lays him down. Arthur feels a pang of sadness as her hands trails down his torso to his crotch. It’s childish, really, hoping that she’d somehow miraculously return his feelings. It‘s just sex to her, he reminds himself, nothing else, nothing more.

Yet he leans into her, pulls her closer until skin meets skin, flesh is inside flesh, thoughts melt into lust.

Just as the fire within them is quenched by the wetness between their legs, the flames before them simmer to red coals. He bites his lip as she lazily rolls down beside him. They both take a moment to catch their breath, and she points up to a bright star as he throws a blanket over them. She sits up to grab her compass, before once again lying down with him.

“That there’s the north star, and try to connect these seven dots, see that ladle? That’s Ursa Minor, the little bear,” she says, trying to map out the constellations before them with her fingers. Arthur feels a smile spread across his face as she connects the stars. “Under it, there’s a bigger ladle– Ursa Major, his mother. Oh, and right next to them!” Mary whispers, leaning on Arthus’s shoulder to align their view, so that she can point out the stars for him more easily. “See that long trail of stars? That’s Draco.”

“Let me guess, it’s a dragon?”

“Good guess, mister. Oh, and look to  the south west, near the moon, see that really bright one near the horizon? That’s Venus.”

“Oh, I remember Dutch pointing that one out to me, and the red one, Mars, is it?”

“Think so, I can’t really see it though, if we’re lucky we might catch it around sunrise. You see the hexagon above it? That’s Ophiuchus, the snake bearer.”

“And the line across it s’the snake?”

“Yeah, oh, and right at the top is Cygnus, the swan.”

“It does look like a bird. And what about that one next to it, the bright one?

“I’m not too sure– think that one is lyra. A lyre, y’know?” “A liar? Now that I’m familiar with.” “No, the instrument! You pluck the string like a guitar– well, probably more like a harp. It belongs to this poet Orpheus.”

“S’that feller on the sky too?”

“No, don’t think he is– if anything he’s going underground.”

“What’d ya mean?” “You see, this Orpheus guy who sings so wonderfully, the god of music himself gave him his lyre…”

As he listens to her story, Arthur pulls out his journal to mark down the stars, connecting the lines and writing down the name of each constellation beside it. It’s a bit dark, but the light from the campfire is sufficient. 

“...and his song is so beautiful, it moves the king of the dead to tears. So, he agrees to let him and his wife go, on one condition: Eurydice must walk behind Orpheus, and he should not turn around on their way back, until they reach the mortal realm, and if he does, he’s going back to the mortal world alone.”

“That sounds too easy.”

“Things are always easier said than done.”

“He turns around?” “Yeah.”

“That’s dumb.”

“I s’ppose… but, I think I would’ve done the same.”

“Nah, that’s ridiculous, I’d never turn around if I was him.” “It’s a long way up, it’s dark and it’s cold, he can’t hear her footsteps and he can’t see her shadow, her being a ghost. We can’t blame him for doubtin’ if she’s really behind him.”

“He could have called her name if he’s in doubt.”

“Maybe he did and she called back, but he couldn’t hear her.”

“Even if so, he can, y’know, wait until they’re up above before turning around?”

“Well, yes, but doubt got the better of him.”

“Doubt, huh, ain’t no use doubting,” he grumbles as he flips to a new page of his journal. She chuckles, “Now that’s bold of you to say. Surely you won’t say that you’ve never doubted anything before?”

“Well, no, but I’m not letting it hold me back.”

“Can’t really say the same for me. And looking back, I don’t regret a single bit of it.”

“To each their own, I guess.”

“I guess. Oh! Look to the east, that’s Jupiter.”

“Which one?”

“The big one under the cluster of stars, you see it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Arthur replies, as he marks it down on the pages. “It’s right in the middle of Taurus, the bull.”

“Bull? Can’t see it.”

“See that cluster of stars? That’s Pleiades. That’s its body, And there’s the horn– here, I’ll mark it down for you,” she says, quickly outlining the shape of the bull in his journal.

“And what a coincidence– do you know Taurus is the bull that the god Jupiter turned into?”

More stars are mapped out and more stories are told,with the rising and falling of celestial bodies being the only sign of the passage of time, and despite it being well into the midnight hours, Arthur does not feel sleepy at all. To him, the night only seems to be passing too quickly. 

He steals another glance at her under the starlight. He can see her better now, despite the fading light from the embers, now that his vision has adjusted to the darkness. She looks just as beautiful as she does in the day under the daylight, her features looking all the more softer in the dim lighting. Suddenly he wishes– as silly as it is– that he can lie with her like this always, forever, until their bodies turn to bones, until the last star in the universe dies out.

“You see that board guy over there? Near Gemini?” her voice once again grasps her attention.

“What guy?” he asks, staring at the direction she is pointing towards. “You see those three bright stars? They mark his belt.” She grabs his hand and uses his finger to point out those stars for him. “And over there, that’s his bow. That’s Orion, he’s a hunter.”

“Think I see him now,” Arthur mutters, outlining the feller with his pencil.

“He kinda looks like ya, y’know, big and broad and all.” He lets out a small chuckle, “If you say so, ‘cept I don’t sparkle.”

“Right. Oh, and underneath! Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky other than Venus. It’s not fully out yet, but you can see half of Canis Major.”

“Let me guess, it’s a dog? The hunter guy’s dog?”

“Exactly, and you can see the rabbit running away from them…”

He can tell the sun is going to rise soon by the time the two finally settle down in their bedrolls, as the sky gradually changes from dark blue to pale purple. He pulls her over to the nicer bedroll before she has a chance to protest.

“I've got my own bed,” she says, though she slips under the sheets with him regardless.

“It's old 'n dirty, 'sides, we fit pretty well here don't we?”

“Hm, it's cozy enough,” she mutters mindlessly,  resting her head right above his heart. She can hear his heart speeding up the second she lays her hand on the other side of his chest, but pays it little mind.

A small smile blooms across his face as she yawns, she's kind of adorable like this, soft, docile, her usual defensiveness vanished into the night.

“You're so warm…” she mumbles, right before falling asleep, “I can hold you forever like this.”

Please do, it is the last thought he has before he, too, falls into slumber.

****

Arthur heads out shortly after they went home, only to return with another man an hour later. The two are engaged in a discussion as she steps back in, putting down the basket of clean  clothes in the corner. Seeing another person in the house is a strange feeling, her heart frantically jumps around her chest. They both look up, she feels she should just run off. Surely he’d recognize her, he’d know, everyone did, he’d instantly know and now she’s trapped in a house-

“Mary, was expectin’ you. Charles Smith, Mary Linton.” She reaches to shake his hand, the two make brief eye contact and engage in the courtesy.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith.” she greets, the man nods in response. She steps around the room and looks at them both. The two connected rooms offer little privacy and stepping out would be rather rude. 

“C’mon, sit with us,” Arthur invites her over. She sits by him and notices the cups of coffee on the table. There was a chip on one of the cups, a large one. The silence is broken by him yet again. “This is the feller I was tellin’ you about, we ain’t met in a while.”

Charles and Mary look at each other in silence and then glance back at Arthur. “And this is Mary, figure you read about her in the papers a bit ago.” Shut up, Arthur, just shut up. Please.

“Think I did. Arthur didn’t tell me about this situation.”

“Well, i-it’s not really a thing that should get out, in case someone hears, you see.” Mary excuses. Charles shoots a look at Arthur, silently shaming him for every single choice that led up to this. He had caught on the moment she stepped in. The two pillows on the bed, the little stitched on details and his neatened up appearance. A thing Charles hadn’t before noticed was the degree of his idiocy, apparently. 

Arthur notices her stilted mannerisms and places his hand on her hand under the table. 

“Why then?”

“ ‘s hard to explain,” Arthur squeezes her hand. She gently squeezes back.

“Ain’t really. We share a bed.”

“Oh.”  

Arthur chats with the man for a while, before the two get up to leave. Charles raises an eyebrow at him as he pulls a jacket on, questioning the whole situation. He eyes the strange lady observing them. 

“You wanna come with us?” Arthur asks, it snaps her out of her trance. 

“Well, I won’t be of much help or company. ‘Sides, I have things to do, you go on ahead darlin’,” Mary stands up as they step out. 

Darlin’.

Arthur pauseos at the door, turning back to look at her, their eyes meet as she steps forth. The door clolpsllles, the9ootttotototo to to tttttt  the 9brief moment ends as the door clicks shut. Arthur lets out a breath he only now realizes he had held in for the time. Something was missing, he thinks, but shakes the thought away.

Should have goddamn kissed her.

He gathers his thoughts for a moment and steps back to meet the younger man. 

“What’s going on with you, Arthur?” Charles asks. 

“Nothin’, nothin’,” Arthur denies, turning away. Charles furrows his brow. 

“At this rate I’d have guessed you married her.” His tone is only half joking.

“Huh.” he feels a flush creep up his face at the thought. It’s a silly, soft  thought but… that damned woman seemed to some strange aura about her. She wouldn’t ever, never in a million years even consider it would she, not with me. Fool.

“As a matter of fact ‘m hurt ya didn’t tell me.”

“Ain’t like that, Charles. She ‘n I ain’t involved like that, she’s got her own things goin’ on and she’ll probably leave me any day now.”

“Is that so?” Charles casts him a strange look as they walk into the woods, “I’ve never seen you act like that with anybody.”

Arthur sighs, he can’t help but be ashamed of these…stupid feelings, but it would probably do him good to let it out. It’s just Charles, ain’t like he will judge him for it.

“Well I do like her a bit, she’s been living with me for a while and she…she’s been real nice to me, y’know.”

“…I can tell,” Charles mutters, recalling in terror the way the two looked at each other. “Thought you were tracking her down just a while ago, and now you’re living with her?”

“Long story short, she saved my life, I owed her one, and she needed a place to hide so, we ended up sharing a roof.”

“And you said you like her?”

“Yeah?”

“Arthur,” Charles stops in his tracks, turning to look at him. “She killed her husband.”

“Yeah, that. That feller was a bastard, a child rapist. Can you blame her for that?”

Charles sighs, he can see the reason behind that woman’s action, if what she claimed was true, that is, but he sure can’t see any logic behind Arthur’s thought process. “Still. Of course she’d put him in a bad light in her story.”

“Even if she did lie to me it ain’t like I haven’t murdered anyone before. C’mon, let’s get going,” he urges.

“Fair enough. She does seem sweet on you, gotta say.”

“You really think so?” Arthur asks, his tone almost hopeful.

“That she’s sweet on you? Yeah. I’m guessing she’s why your den finally looks like a house now?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s been a great housemate.”

Charles wants to point out that housemate seems like an odd choice of word given the way they interact, but he does not comment.“ ‘m glad to hear that, but still, be careful.”

“C’mon, if she’s going to kill me she would’ve done it weeks ago. Enough about me, how have ya been?”

“Same old. There's this beekeeper who moved near me a few weeks ago and his little army has been bothering me ever since. Nothing interesting beside that, really. How’re you two getting on?”

“A beekeeper? Never would’ve guessed voluntarily keep ‘em.”

“Mm, yeah, all sorts of folk out there. What’s she been doing in this time?”

“They live out near the fields? Saw a bunch of flowers there, seems like a nice place for ‘em.”

“Heard there was someone new in town sellin’ knitted things ‘n embroidery”

“Yup. Does he get stung by ‘em often?” “Is it her?”

“Yup, so, how’re you two gettin’ on, other than that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hm? Means what I said it meant.” Arthur shrugs. 

“Hosea told me you were harbourin’ an outlaw, said it like it had passed. When’s she gonna be gone?” Charles dodges the subject.

“Hope not soon. Charles, I… I think I love her.”

A look of disapproval spreads across the other man's face. “I’m not gona do anythin’ about it, it’d… it’d be dumb.”

“C’mon, Arthur, I can see that, but I don't wanna see you get hurt. Might just be best to let her go.”

Arthur sighs heavily. 

“I know, I know. S’gonna hurt anyway. Enough about her, you said you saw a stag ‘round here earlier?”

*******

“Oh, you guys are back,” Mary says, emptying a can of beans into the steaming pot.

“Yeah,” says Arthur, swinging off his satchel to hang it behind the door. “Watcha makin’?” He asks, looking over her shoulders. 

“Just put together what I could find, we’re running low,” she says, stirring the mixture of beans, mushrooms, and potatoes. “And nice to see you again Mr. Smith,” she greets as the other man lays down several bundles wrapped in paper on the table.

“Charles’ fine,” he replies. Mary only hums in response.

“Yer staying for dinner?” Arthur asks. Mary secretly hopes he would refuse, not because she dislikes Arthur’s friend. In fact, she finds him a pretty nice feller, but it is just so awkward and unnatural, especially with Arthur being so at ease and Charles being clearly as uneasy as her.

Charles merely shrugs, “Sure.”

“What have you guys got?” she asks, sprinkling some salt over the pot.

“Just some rabbits. What’d ya say if we roast ‘em?”

“I’m fine with it.” Arthur nods as he grabs a knife to skin the rabbits. 

“Need any help?” Charles offers.

“No, it’s fine, you’re the guest,” Arthur says.

“A guest? You’re talking like I’m a stranger,” Charles jokes as he sets himself down at the table, slightly more relaxed now.

“You come here often, Mr Smith?” Mary asks, trying to break the awkwardness.

“I used to.”

“Oh?” Mary puts the lid over the pot, before walking over to pour a glass of water for Arthur, then another for Charles. He silently thanks her with a nod.

“Well, then you came.” Suppose Arthur doesn’t want anyone interrupting you two. Charles thinks, though he knows better than to say it out loud.

Mary freezes, trying to think of the implication behind his statement. There is not a single bit of repulsion in his tone, yet his words make her feel like an intruder. She wonders if that’s what she is to his friends and family, someone uninvited, a hindrance to Arthur’s life. They won’t be wrong, she thinks, she has been nothing but a dependent with little contribution.

“I won’t be disturbing him for long,” she explains. “He’s been a great host, but I’d hate to bother him for any longer. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can, right Arthur?”

A sharp metal cling tears through the room before her words fall. Mary turns around and finds that Arthur has dropped the knife.

“…Arthur? Are you alright?”

He shakes his head out of his trance. “Yeah, am fine, my hand just slipped.”

She picks up the knife for him before returning to the stove. Charles watches as Arthur ties a string onto the rabbits.

A silent sigh escapes him. His face falls, the happiness sucked away by those words. 

“You alright?”

“ ‘m fine,” he shakily picks the knife up. “These’ll be good.” he smiles, a weakness hidden behind those words. 

Charles smiles back, pitying the other man.

Fine. Fine! Completely fine. Just like she’s with leaving. FINE.

“Hey, well. I hope you two had fun out there, the weathers been fine all week!” she continues. FINE, FINE, EVERYTHING’S JUST GODDAMN FINE.

“Could have used you out there too,” Charles tries to break the tension. He notices his friend's hand tighten around the knife. He places a hand on his shoulder and notices the tension in his muscles.

He snakes his hand onto Arthurs and gently places the knife on the table. 

“What?” Arthur asks, confused.

“Nothin'. You're done with this, right? I'll take it to wash.”

“Oh, yeah, alright.” Arthur says. Charles drops it at the sink while Arthur kneels down before the fireplace, hanging the rabbits over the pile of logs.

Charles sits back down at the table. He notices how Arthur is still kneeling on the floor, despite having finished his work. He doesn't comment.

Arthur finally breaks out of his haze as Mary turns around, leaving the steaming pot behind. “Yer done?”

“Not yet, gotta let it simmer for a while,” she mutters, grabbing the unfinished needlework on the table. Charles immediately recognises it as Arthur's neckerchief. Huh.

Arthur brushes the ashes off his hands on his pants. “S'gonna take these at least an hour to cook too.”

“I hope you boys are not too hungry then,” says Mary, as she sits down at the edge of the bed, disappearing from their view.

“I can wait,” Charles says. Arthur casts the bedroom door another glance before sitting himself down at the table, opposite to the other man. 

“So, what have you been up to, other than getting all enamored and stuff?” Charles asks with a whisper. Arthur really has been a stranger lately. He can sense something has changed in him during the past few months. Though Charles can't really tell what it is, he knows Mrs Linton and Arthur's…feelings for her, have to be the reason for it.

“Eh, nothing much, just the old stuff.”

“Y'know, your house really looks a lot nicer now.”

“Yeah, like I said she's a great housekeeper.”

“You look a lot better than before too, you know that right?”

“Do I?” Arthur gives him a funny look. “How?”

“Hard to say, but at least you don't like you're gonna die in a week anymore.”

“That's a real nice compliment coming from ya,” Arthur chuckles. 

“I mean it, you look way happier than before.”

He shrugs, “S'ppose the extra company does me good.”

“...company, huh?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“So, you said you've got a new neighbor?”

“Yeah, a Jason Brown or something like that. I forgot his name and it'd be too strange to ask at this point.”

“Why? Just say you haven't got his last name or something.”

“Guess I should try that.”

“You said he keeps bees?”

“Yeah, he's given me a jar of honey a while ago. He's a pretty nice feller. His herd, not quite.”

“What'd they do?”

“They were supposed to be heading to the apple farm nearby— he mentioned something about them being pollinators and him having got a fund from the owner— but they kept heading to my house to bug me.”

“You ever got stung?”

“A couple times. Didn't even do anything to them.”

“Huh, what about that Jason feller?”

“Not as far as I know. I've seen him work from a distance before. They seemed to let him do whatever he wanted to their hive. He was wearing this net thing over his head though.” Their conversation is interrupted by Mary shuffling through, she grabs her needles. Arthur’s expression falls again, his gaze follows her out, an odd type of sadness masked behind his eyes. 

**** 

The two men step out, Charles pats Taima’s neck in greeting, the mare nickers as he grabs her reins. 

“Hope you’ll be comin’ back some time soon.” Arthur steps closer to the horse.

“Sure. You sure you’ll be alright, Arthur?” Charles asks, swinging his leg over the horse. 

Arthur laughs. “ ‘course I’ll be. Just a crush is all, no reason to worry.”

“You sure?”

“Who do ya think I am? She’ll be out ‘before you’re back, it’ll… pass.” he hesitates on the word. 

Charles nudges the appaloosa to a trot and leaves, glancing back at the other man, left standing in the dust. Arthur turns his gaze to the window and catches a peek at her, sitting there, working hard on another one of her projects. She tilts her head and her eye twitches. 

She’ll be gone soon, she’ll be gone and there isn’t a damn thing I can do.

Arthur steps back inside and she springs up from the spot, tying off two treads and snipping them as she steps over. She pulls him down and ties a black scrap of fabric around his neck. It wasn’t what she was working on before, he notices. 

“Did your friend leave?” she asks. Arthur nods as she adjusts it around his neck. “ ‘m glad to see you ain’t a real hermit just a, hm, a hermit of opportunity.”

“Can’t be a real one with ya here.” he forces a chuckle. “ ‘sides, ain’t fun like that, I don’t mind the company.”

“He'll be coming over again soon?”

“Dunno, maybe, why, do you want him to?”

“Not really.”

He gives out an airy laugh, “Oh, he'll definitely be hurt if he hears that.”

“No, not what I meant. He's a nice feller, but it's just a little bit strange with someone else here y'know?”

“What'd ya mean?”

“Guess I'm just used to being alone with you.”

A warm feeling blooms across his chest. Could she really enjoy being here with him?

Arthur swallows, calm down, she just said she was used to it. It doesn't mean anything.

“Huh, thought you'd be getting sick of my face by now.”

“Probably would have if you weren't so handsome.” 

Suddenly he doesn't know where he should be looking at, and his hands feel awkward hanging besides his hips, but he doesn't know where to put them. He looks away, hoping she isn't able to see his flushed cheeks under the dim light.

“Flatterer,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands on her tiptoes to give his cheek. He has never told her, but it's his favorite way to be kissed; quick, chaste, but sweeter and more intimate than any other kiss. He can almost close his eyes and pretend it's a gesture of something more than mere habitual affection.

He realizes he's still standing at the door while she has already sat down at the edge of the bed, folding her outer clothes. He slowly makes his way towards the room to join her.

“He's not gonna visit for a while. We'll be getting plenty of alone time,” he says, playing with her hair, which she has just let down. Her curls fall onto her shoulders adorning the outline of her face. He twirls a strand around his index finger, feeling its smooth silkiness.

“Good, more fun with just you and I here, isn't it?” 

“How so?” he asks with a knowing smile. The eager hands prying his collar open and the wild kiss that follows it are the only answers his need.

[roadkill111]

the masochism tango is a freaking banger tho

[jackals-ships]

had the masochism tango stuck in my head on loop and GOD i gotta figure out a) their size difference b) how to Draw their size difference for jackal marazhai

[softly-and-suddenly]

Tom Lehrer’s Masochism Tango would do numbers on Tumblr

[shaguro]

{ "SKIN TIGHT.ᐟ" }

{ft. satoru g.} when you realize that you’re falling in love with your friends with benefits, you distance yourself. ghost him after each session. but this time, gojo won’t let you go so easily.

{warnings.} fwb!gojo x reader. fwb to lovers trope! fem!reader, orgasm denial, missionary, breeding kink (like if you sqint) unprotected sex. pet names used, (baby, girl) gojo is a lil delulu. extremely intimate. angsty throughout but ends happy. wc. 2k.

{shanti’s note!} heavily inspired by skin tight by ravyn lenae. listen to the playlist for this story here.

“are you.. are you just usin’ me, (y/n)? just think you can fuck me whenever you feel like? that’s just cruel, baby.”

you knew this was coming.

satoru was pretty much good at everything, sex included. it’s why you initiated this arrangement in the first place, being his friend and fucking him whenever you wanted to. the terms were simple: casual sex with no unwanted, lingering emotions. love is complicated, exhausting — after a handful of failed relationships, you wanted no parts of it and threw in the towel, officially out the game.

he’s not wrong, you do use him. fuck him and disappear by the next morning, unseen and unreachable until you decide to show up at his doorstep again, sometimes days — usually weeks later.

you know he’ll let you in, no matter how much time has passed. just cruel.

“you’re evil. you and this fuckin’—“ he sucks in a sharp breath, tilts his head back. gooey walls mold his dick, all ribbed and dangerously warm. is this why he lets you play him like this? “. . . tight ass pussy you’ve got.”

if it wasn’t for satoru holding your legs up and open, veined hands creased in the bend of your knees, you’re sure they would’ve gave out. he’d been relentless with his teasing this session and you were puffing, the shallow breaths left a slight tremble throughout your body. sweat beads rolled down your temple, cascade down the junction of your neck.

satoru denies you an orgasm for the umptheeth time and you start to think he’s the cruel one. you deserve it, though. this torture, his crafty method of punishment.

he’s had you like this for some time, the deep rut of his hips halted, everything is still. just satoru and his cerulean-speckled iries glowering down on you, goosebumps decorated your skin. you knew he was waiting for some sort of explanation to rationalize the mess you’d created but you weren’t sure where to start.

with your cheek smushed on your shoulder, you decide to fix your eyes on something, anything across the room to avoid his stare that was burning into the side of your head. “‘toru, i’m sorry.”

satoru scoffs, his trimmed fingernails indent your soft skin. “damn, now you’re lyin’ to me too? must really wanna hurt my feelings.”

“i’m not, i swear—“

“you disappear for three months and all you have to say is sorry?” he spat, his words had an uncharacteristic sharpness to them, hard and demeaning. it wasn’t hard to detect the underlying rage that rumbled within his entire being. “no explanation? just sorry? nah.. you gotta.. you gotta give me more than that, (y/n).”

taken aback, you bite down on your bottom lip, at a complete loss for words. there isn’t much you can say to pacify him, you doubt he’d care to hear it. what worked before certainly won’t work now.

the quiet is deafening and suspenseful.

and your silence angers him further, on levels you can’t fathom. you won’t weasel your way out of this, he concludes. you’ll give him an answer, even if it’s at the expense of his already bruised ego.

“hey.. look at me.” he sneers, and you feel the warmth of his skin on your chin, his thumb and pointer fingers curl as they angle your head forward and back onto his face. “just.. talk to me, please.”

satoru gojo, begging? oh yeah, you’ve really done a number on him.

you take your time as you admire him, basking in the sheer beauty of the man in front of you. obnoxious and arrogant as he was, satoru gojo is undeniably attractive, simply gorgeous — pink, kiss-bitten lips slightly parted and his cheeks a pretty shade of red from the exertion, you gather. his abs are chiseled and tense and if you peek lower, you’re met with neatly trimmed, white tufts of hair at the base of his dick.

“you…” you stop to clear your throat but it didn’t need clearing, only to counteract how embarrassingly weak your voice sounded. “..y-you wouldn’t understand, satoru— oh!”

he exhales deep through his nose and suddenly leans down, releasing his hold on your knees to brace his elbows on the satin-sheets. while he does this, his hips roll — slow as he feeds you all his thick inches until he bottoms out, his pelvis taut against your neglected clit.

you mewl out and your hands encircle his neck, scratching at the low hairs on his nape. he’s so close, your noses basically touch. his breath fans your face, cooling your rather hot cheeks. “then help me understand, baby. make it easy f’me, whatever it is.. i can handle it.”

you’re not worried about him not being able to handle it, in fact you’re not worrying about anything at all. how can you when he’s got you stuffed, stretched and full like this?

concentration is impossible as satoru sets a steady, languid pace — not too slow nor too fast, just enough to have your manicured, white toes curling. your mouth in the shape of a pretty ‘o’, your breathy whimpers resounding off the walls of satoru’s bedroom, the beautiful symphony ringing in his ears.

an addicting melody, you were like his own personal drug. insatiable and persistent, gojo was unsure if he’d ever get his fill of you, truly he didn’t care. as long as he had you here with him, where you belonged.

“c’mere,” he pants and leans in, connecting your lips in a swift motion. you melt into the kiss, jaw slack while your tongues meld and mix. it’s fervent like always but this sensation is new — raw, almost vulnerable. pouring his heart out to you in all his movements and you can feel all of it.

“‘toru, oh my g-god.” you grip his forearms, keening as his length drags along a spot that has stars twinkling behind your lids. “i was j-just— fuck!”

“just what baby?” he mocks, it wouldn’t be gojo if he didn’t find a way to tease you, even in the most intimate of moments. he litters kisses along your jawbone before latching onto the delicate skin on the column of your throat, grazing his teeth on the surface to ensure it’ll leave colorful marks, letting out a pretty whine of his own. “shit, squeezing me s’tight- gotta use your w-words f’me.”

well, that’s easier said than done. your body is trembling in a way that can only be caused by satoru, every time your mouth opens to form words only meek, whiney moans follow. your tips scratch the plane of his delts, surely leaving cat-like scratches in their wake. and your legs hang loosely off his slim waist as you cling to him for dear life.

“i was just s-scared, satoru.” your voice was low, it was nearly drowned out by the wet squelching of your pussy. the constant schlap schlap schalp of satoru’s pelvis meeting the fatty flesh of your thighs.

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes meet yours, his head slightly tilted in confusion. “scared of what? of me?

“no!” you shake your head profusely and reach a shaky hand up to cup his face. he leans into the touch, the heat of his cheek warming your palm. if there was one person you’d feel eternally safe and protected with, it’s him. “no.. never. it’s the w-way you make me, hmm, f-feel that i was scared of.”

“oh? and how do i make you feel?” he purrs prior to kissing you again, nibbling on your bottom lip. truth be told, he wasn’t sure what you were about to say. he prayed to the god above you couldn’t feel the rapid beating of his heart, notice the uneven rise and fall of his chest. so he plays it off, even with that slight tremor in his voice. “you love me or somethin’?”

it might be more than love. a deep attachment, a classic case of yearning and longing. gojo satoru was made for you. no amount of denying or running from the obvious would change that fact. you love him so badly it hurts, it consumes you — clouds your thoughts and steals the air from your lungs. no more fighting, you had no energy left to.

you’re surrendering yourself to satoru gojo and it was time to let him know.

“yeah,” you confirm with a giggle, all airy and breathless. your thumb strokes his cheek gingerly, tilting your chin up so your foreheads touch. “i love you, satoru.”

satoru doesn’t respond, in fact he was deadly silent. mouth agape, his eyes darting wildly as he examines your face, searching for signs of roguery but he found none. you were telling the truth, the love swelling in your eyes made it oh so apparent.

“again.”

you let out a surprised yelp when satoru presses his body down, the pressure of his weight dips into your chest, leaving you winded. his face is buried in the crook of your neck where the neediest whines roll off his tongue. with this new angle, he’s balls-deep and the rhythm his hips carry has your eyes rolling, holding his broad shoulders to ground yourself.

skin-tight, it’s like your bodies, your sounds are one.

“s-say you love me again.” he rasps, and it’s more pleading than demanding. like he needs reassurance.

“i love you s-so muchh— ohgod, don’t stop, don’t stop!” your words trail into high-pitched mewls and satoru sighs, a blissful sound of relief. your pussy clamps down on his dick greedily, sucking him in impossibly deeper as he massages your aching walls, un-calculated and sloppy.

this was the effect you had on him, you always left him a fucking mess. satoru would let you ruin him, every time, for as long as he lived. “don’t know how long i’ve b-been, hah, waitin’ to fuckin’ hear t-that.”

you’d tease him for the stutter in his words if you could think clearly but your mind is blank. you’re delightfully delirious as satoru pounds into you, giving you quite literally everything he’s got. simply insatiable, you still want more. settling a weak hand on his hip, you use the last of your strength to propel him forward, your juices aimlessly squelching between your bodies, dripping down your perineum.

“f-fuck girl, you-you’re drivin’ me crazy. n-not gonna last, baby. f-feel like y-you’re tryn’ to milk me.” satoru babbles, and you swear you can feel a warm trickle of drool on your collarbone. how cute, he’s just as brainless as you are.

his pace is frantic now and that familiar tingling is building your gut. your limps are limp against him, your whole body rocks in tandem with his as he works his hardest to bring the two of you to completion.

“satoru, m’gonna cum, s’closeee.” you whine, lashes fluttering as salty tears clustered on your lash line.

he only hums in response, snaking one of his hands between your bodies to find your clit, all your sticky slick had your mound drenched. he smirks whilst rubbing figure eights on the sensitive nub, your quivering folds dragging a deep groan from his chest.

“want m-me to fill you up, hmm? p-pump this pretty pussy with all my cum.. want it all, y-yeah?” he’s rambling is incessant and you nod dumbly. it’s in one ear and out the other, the pure euphoria coursing through your bones driving you insane and all you needed was release.

it was the pinch to your clit that did it, the final blow that had your back arching almost painfully as your climate rushes through your body in intervals, your hardened nipples brush against satoru’s pecs as you twitch uncontrollably, a chain of broken cries mixed with his name fall from your lips like water.

like clockwork, satoru’s orgasm follows directly after, he muffles his moans in your shoulder, damn near biting the skin as he pumps you full, as promised. it’s alarmingly warm, scorching as it invades and overflows within your womb, too much for it to handle, some of it spilling back out. satoru doesn’t pull out, plugging as much of his semen as he can to your insides.

the silence after is comfortable. the two of you in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and panting from the intensity of your shared orgasms. you’d make your way to the bathroom, eventually. for now, you bask in the blissful ambiance.

“(y/n)?” satoru’s voice breaks the silence, a whisper as his head lulls on the fat of your breast.

“hmm?”

“i love you too.”

@screampied @satorena @hoshigray made yall wait long enough LMAO.

[churipu]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝! 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. sukuna wanted a son, but got a daughter instead (he's smitten for her shh), sukuna is modern af bye he knows how to use a phone ok, reader is called "wife", ooc sukuna bye

note. ok listen, i've been having a girl dad sukuna brainrot lately. and i even gave out a req to @rrairey (u go check out her works rn) — but i just had to write something about girl dad sukuna jsjdksjks it's on my mind 25/8 and i can't stop unless i actually write abt him (i'm lying, he's still going to be in my mind bye).

girl dad! sukuna who initially wanted a son but when he finds out he's going to be having a daughter instead, he didn't know how to feel. he thought that if he had a son, he could at least play "rough" with him. it's sukuna, he doesn't know what soft is.

girl dad! sukuna who has to secretly watch tutorial videos on the most random thing like "how to play nicely with your daughter" or "how to be nice to your daughter". but also searches up for things like "easy hairstyles to give your daughter for beginners", when your daughter isn't even born yet.

girl dad! sukuna who hates to admit it but he's pretty worried about having a daughter. finally shoves his ego down his throat and comes up to you to talk about it, and you encouraged that he's going to be a good father — but still, he's worried.

"ryo, you're worried about what exactly?" you asked the male, brushing his hair.

"not being a good father." he replies, leaning into your touch with a big frown on his face, grumbling under his breath slightly about how embarrassed he is to be so fragile in front of his own wife.

"baby, you're going to be the best father."

although your words were supposed to be encouraging, and he did feel a bit of burden lift off of his shoulders — the male still couldn't help but to worry about his unborn daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who complains about your pregnancy cravings and how his daughter is a weird baby. despite that, he will go out of his way to get you what you wanted, not caring if it was two in the morning, or five in the morning. he will get it for you and your growing daughter inside your belly.

girl dad! sukuna who grows anxious when your due date was inching closer. he took a break off from work and devoted his time to look after you, especially since you were walking for two right now. even if you did tell your husband that you were fine — he still thinks it's his job to look after you and your daughter.

"damn it brat, stop moving so much. you'll hurt yourself," he gently tugs on your arm, directing you to the couch, "what'dya want?"

"sausages and blueberry jam . . ." you tell him nonchalantly, missing the look of disgust on his face.

". . . just stay there." he walks a few steps before turning back, "don't move."

girl dad! sukuna who watches labor videos only to focus on the husbands and what they were doing in it so he could try to take notes and searches for what he should get ready for labor, or if he could do anything as a husband for his wife during labor. the results didn't ease his worries — they added up his worries. like adding fuel to the fire, the internet tells him that giving birth was the second most painful thing after getting burned alive.

girl dad! sukuna who already thought of names for your daughter and even buys things for her. telling you that he'd be out to grab a few things and then coming back with a crib set, toys, or even a baby walker. he even got a baby strap for both you and him to use, picking out the most random motives like skulls and fires.

"ryo, why did you pick that motive?" you asked, eyeing the baby strap that had white skulls all over.

"our daughter will like that. i know it." he retorts.

girl dad! sukuna who looked as calm as a cucumber but internally panics the most when your water broke. he grabs the bag that he had packed, following a youtube tutorial and helped you get into the car so that the both of you can finally drive off to the hospital. he holds your hand tightly along the way, showing his worry as he "tries" to follow driving laws (which he ended up driving past the speed limit and had to get a ticket in the hospital).

girl dad! sukuna who had to pay a ticket as you were tended in a hospital room (you didn't know about this and he didn't tell you about it so you won't worry). the doctor telling both you and him that the labor procedure will have to wait up to a few hours as they proceeded with "watchful waiting" after they checked on the baby's condition and yours so they could see if it was safe for you to give birth normally.

girl dad! sukuna who waited those long hours with you as you laid on the bed, telling him how nervous you are. and all the bad possibilities that could happen (he searched that up too), he tells you to stop saying those kind of things. sukuna wasn't angry — he just didn't want you to stress so much, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb to soothe you. he didn't let go until the doctor came back to finally do something.

girl dad! sukuna who was inside the delivery room with you, even after telling you that he won't come inside a few months ago. holds onto your hand (which you were holding onto tightly as the procedure goes on for hours), he winces — but he didn't care about his hand right now, he only cares about you and his daughter. brushing your hair lightly, mumbling out hushed praises to you (unknowingly, it just comes out), wipes away your sweat with his bare fingers and pressing kisses onto your face every single time he feels your hand clenching around his.

"jus' a bit more, pretty." he whispers, kissing your knuckles multiple times before moving on to kiss your forehead, "a bit more."

girl dad! sukuna who almost bursts into tears when he heard the loud cry of your daughter, but blinked his tears back. peering slightly at your worn out face. he tells you how he's proud of you (spoiler: he hates it if you reminded him about it in the future).

"y'hear that? you did so good, pretty. 'm proud of you," he clung onto your hand, grazing his thumb over your forehead as a smile adorned his face, "she's here, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who couldn't hold his tears back when the nurse suggested skin-to-skin contact with the father. he wasted no time tugging his shirt off to hold his little bundle of joy, nestling her in his arms — unknowingly letting a few stray tears of joy out as he coos down to his newborn daughter.

"oh, you're so pretty, little one." he cradled her gently against his bulky arms, sniffling softly. he was so gentle — different from how he used to be, his eyes soft and watery as he affectionately stares down at his now sleeping daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who slept on a chair by your bed when the doctor told you that you'll be allowed to go home once your body is fit again, he didn't care that he didn't have a bed to lie on. he was just there, prepped in a chair as his fingertips touched your wrist near the IV injection on the back of your hand. making sure he didn't touch the transparent hose. and his eyes darted back and forth from your resting form and his daughter who was now all warm and bundled up inside a bassinet. making sure that the both of you are resting well even if he was barely able to open his eyes fully.

girl dad! sukuna who carried all your bags and your daughter's car seat with ease while leading you down the hospital hallways and to the car. helping you buckle your seatbelt and making sure that his daughter is going to be safe and sound during the ride home, prepping up the car seat like he learned, giving his daughter a light kiss on her head before closing the door.

girl dad! sukuna who tells you to rely on him every time his daughter wakes up in the middle of the night — he won't let you get up, gently tugging you down onto the bed and tucking you underneath the covers before leaving to tend your daughter without any other words. as if his daughter is the most fragile thing in the world, he carries her into his arms and hushed her softly, nuzzling his nose onto her head, trying to get her back to sleep.

"shh, baby, mama's tired right now . . . go back to bed." he whispers, kissing her small forehead.

girl dad! sukuna who offered to shower your baby for the first time after two weeks upon arriving back home (under your watch of course), as you filled the bathinette with warm water — sukuna was cradling her in his arms, swaying his body side to side. and when you tell him the water's ready, sukuna prepped his big hand behind your daughter's small head so the water won't go to her face and began cleaning her. concentrating, he wets his finger and traced it over his daughter's face, making sure she's not frightened. and once he's done, he cupped his hand and scooped some water to wet her hair, rubbing her head lovingly.

girl dad! sukuna who's personality did a somersault ever since you were pregnant with his daughter. turning soft and more clingy, he has your daughter strapped to his chest. and will tell you that he's got it every time his daughter cries or ruined her diapers, he's learnt it all thanks to other great dads on youtube.

girl dad! sukuna who was even more ecstatic than you are when his daughter said her first word, which was of course "mama", he didn't care that she didn't say "dada", he focuses on the fact that his daughter had grown so much to be able to say her first word. tells your bundle of joy how proud he is of her even if she probably doesn't understand her father.

"maa..ma."

sukuna who had his eyes on the television immediately darted to his daughter who was in your hold, his lips were slightly parted as he tries to process what just happened, "did . . . did she . . ?"

when you confirmed his question, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your head before kissing your daughter's head, muttering out a, "papa's proud of you, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who treats both you and your daughter like the most precious beings in the world. he. spoils. you. both. to no end, coming home from work with a present for the both of you. mostly food for you, and a toy for your daughter. you just know [daughter] is going to grow up spoiled by her father.

girl dad! sukuna who spoils your daughter rotten. and ever since her first steps — he's been going out with her to no end, of course going out as a family of three. holding your daughter's chubby little hands as he guided her down the street, earning coos from strangers all around him.

"good girl, that's right . . . left and right." he said softly, watching [daughter] walk slowly, still a little wobbly.

girl dad! sukuna who gets a little emotional when your daughter has her first birthday — because, it's been that fast? he tries not to cry, i swear. but silently slips inside the bathroom and lets a few one out before coming out like he didn't just cry over his daughter growing up too fast. he swore it was just yesterday that he was in the hospital.

girl dad! sukuna who will with no shame, participate in tea parties with his daughter once she's known enough about it. you'd call them both down for dinner and when they didn't, you decided to be the one to approach them inside [daughter]'s room. and there he was, sitting on the floor, to his left and right were [daughter]'s stuffed animals and your daughter was sitting across from sukuna with a silver tiara on.

"this looks fun," you chuckled, eyeing them.

"mama! tea party?" [daughter] beams out at you, you walked over to them and carried your daughter into your arms, "mama, no tea party?"

"after dinner, baby. okay?"

sukuna has no shame in it. at first, he did try to decline his daughter, telling her that she should ask you instead, but your daughter looked so crestfallen that he just has to accept — which turned out to be a daily thing now. a tea party.

girl dad! sukuna who will be his daughter's experiment subject to trying out make ups. he's a little skeptical (lies, he's very skeptical), but it's not like this is the first time he's had make up put on his face. he's had his fair share of you trying to put make up on him, but this was a toddler doing it and not a full grown adult. but he couldn't say no, so he just submits to his daughter and lets her modify his face and clips on cute hairclips to his hair.

"mama mama! look at papa," your daughter cheers, pointing at sukuna. and you laugh, carrying your daughter before approaching the male who was sitting down on the floor in the living room.

"you look pretty, ryo."

"i feel pretty, my little girl did it to me." he rolls his eyes before grabbing a mirror to look at his face.

eh, not bad.

girl dad! sukuna who drops his daughter off for the first day of pre-school, telling her that she should punch anyone who messes with her (thankfully nobody yet). and gets a bit emotional again as she walks inside the building, his eyes going glassy watching her skip inside her new chapter.

girl dad! sukuna who's overprotective when it comes to his little girl. a trip to the park was a daily routine for his family — and believe me when he has eyes everywhere for his little girl, if anyone was bothering her, he would have no fear on finding out who their parent was. taking matters into his own hands, leaving the children out of it. as much as he wanted to confront the kid for bothering his little princess, he knew the parents had the most fault.

"your boy has issues. the next time he lays his hand on my girl, i will come for you." he said to the boy's father before walking back to you.

the boy and his father never came back to the park after that day.

girl dad! sukuna who watches his daughter grow from a small girl to an eight year old in a matter of what felt like a week. he swore yesterday she was just babbling out her first word, and the next thing he knows, she's got a "boyfriend" at school? oh, boy.

"you don't have a boyfriend." he mutters out, eyeing his daughter.

"yes i do have a boyfriend," your daughter replies back with her soft voice.

"no."

the banter continued until your daughter ended up in tears, and sukuna had to force himself to say that she indeed had a boyfriend in school. he's upset that she's growing up too quickly, but at the same time — he's proud of his little girl.

girl dad! sukuna who finds out you were pregnant with a second child, who turned out to be another girl. and he was still as loving and caring like he was with his first daughter, this time, he had a helping hand to take care of you.

"mama has a baby in her belly, so you can't be too rough on her, okay?" he baby talks his eight year old daughter like she's still a small baby — he softly caresses your clothed stomach as he speaks to her.

girl dad! sukuna who had to see his first daughter cry over her new "soon to be" born baby sibling. thinking both you and him were not going to love her anymore — and his heart breaks, because why would he not love his princess anymore?

"hey, hey, why're you cryin'?" sukuna tucks [daughter]'s hair behind her ear as she lets out a few fat tears out of her eyes.

"mama and papa will still love me, right?" she asks, her voice breaking slightly.

sukuna pulls the young girl into his embrace, holding her with one of his arm as he wipes her tears with his other, "'f course mama and i will still love you, you're our princess."

girl dad! sukuna who proudly watches his big girl now approaching his newborn daughter and her sister, eyeing the baby with such an innocent glint in her eyes. oh, and big girl? doesn't matter, to sukuna, your first daughter will always be his little girl.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

❥ Quickies with the MHA Boys

❥ Everyone involved in this work of fiction is 18+/aged up.

♡ Bakugou Katsuki

Katsuki doesn’t mind quickies per se. He just has to be in the right mood for it. He’d much rather take his sweet time. Not wanting to rush, being able to relax afterwards — otherwise he’d rather just not have sex at all.

But there are times when he’s frustrated. When your schedules haven’t lined up, when you haven’t had sex in weeks — he gets pent up.

Katsuki’s the kind of guy who will lounge on your bed in just his tight black boxer briefs. Arms folded behind his head as he lazily waits for you to get out of the shower.

He knows it gives you a view that you’re unable to resist of his unreasonably slim waist and toned arms — as the position allows his biceps to flex involuntarily.

And of course, he’s completely aware that you have to leave for work in less than 20 minutes. He just doesn’t give a single shit.

He’s been dreaming about your warm pussy sucking in his cock in all night and there’s not a chance in hell he’s letting you go until he fucks you silly.

Tilting his head, he leers at your naked body as you drop your towel onto the bed. He urges you in a low, rasping voice to “come here baby,” sporting a wolfish grin.

You already know what he wants. It makes your stomach burn pleasantly with arousal.

“Five minutes Katsuki, I’m serious.” You shoot him a pointed glare. He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“As if I won’t have you cumming in less than two minutes.” The grin he levels you with is sharp around the edges.

Although, the man’s right to be confident.

Katsuki will push you onto the bed, cock already stiff and thick when he wiggles between your legs, yanking his briefs down to mid thigh.

You’re turned on enough that he slides in with relative ease, even if it burns a little, because let’s be real — he’s so hot you would take him any time, any place.

Katsuki will tug one of your legs up, hooking it over his shoulder. He’ll bend you in half and circle his fingers around your throat, applying pressure that’s just right.

With precision, he wholly makes this quickie worth it. Katsuki has your toes curling, cheeks flushed. Choking on your own moans as you cum.

He does exceptionally well with the time limit, just as he does with everything else in his life. He pulls out, stroking his cock eagerly and cums all over your belly with a groan that leaks out between gritted teeth.

Almost exactly five minutes on the dot.

♡ Kirishima Eijirou

Eijirou has the spirit of a happy, care free, lovesick golden retriever. So naturally, he loves physical touch.

He’s addicted to constantly being in your space. Hugging you, holding your hand, pulling you to sit on his lap, kissing you., etc.

And if we’re being honest, whenever he gets the chance, he’ll be inside you too. Stretching you out. Making you feel so good it melts your brain — if only because it makes him feel twice the amount of pleasure to you see come undone.

Needless to say, Eijirou enjoys quickies a fuck ton. He also is the sort of guy who gets literal heart eyes whenever you initiate one with him.

He’ll be relaxing on the couch, lost in some sort of video game when you snatch the controller out of his hands and place it out of his reach.

Eijirou sputters, glancing up at you in surprise. His startled expression turns to one of knowing when you straddle his lap. Your sundress bunches up and exposes the soft skin of your inner thighs in the process.

“I’ve got 10 minutes until I leave for my appointment. Wanna have sex Ei?” You ask teasingly, a coy smile playing on your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, gently trailing your fingers up the nape of his neck.

You swear if Eijirou had a tail it would be wagging. He moans low in his throat. Your light touch and filthy words are all it takes to get him hard, stiff cock pressing eagerly into your thigh.

“How could I ever say no to you gorgeous?” He beams at you with his sharp teeth, resting his hands your hips. You snicker, raising up a little so he can slid his shorts down enough to free himself — letting the waistband rest just under his balls.

He sneaks your panties to the side, rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, trying to hold in a whine.

He has mercy on you, gripping his shaft and parting your pussy with his cock until the head catches. You ease yourself down onto him until you’re fully seated in his lap.

You both simultaneously breathe out a sigh of relief.

After that, he lets you ride him until you’re flushed and satiated. He praises you sweetly, holding your waist with a tight grip and helping you bounce.

“That’s it baby, take what you need. I’m right here, I’ve got you. Love it when you cum for me,” he coos, voice tender and adoring.

It’s effortless to cum like that, face buried in his shoulder while you rock back and forth in his lap. Letting him hug you tightly to his chest.

Once you come back down to earth, you check for the time, noticing you’ve only got two minutes left.

You taunt Eijirou with the time limit, telling him it’s his turn to cum before he has to take care of himself.

He chases his own pleasure desperately. Kissing you to keep himself from biting marks into your neck.

You’re only running a couple minutes late when you go, leaving Eijirou a sticky, gooey mess on the couch.

♡ Todoroki Shouto

Shouto, he’s, well — a mix of the two really. He enjoys taking his time, but he also cannot keep himself out of your bubble.

One of Shouto’s absolute favorite past times is cuddling with you.

The coziness of your body, the way you fit like a missing puzzle piece into his chest. The tender kisses he can trail across your neck and the ones you give him in return.

That’s why Shouto takes immense pleasure in those honey like, sweet and warm, limbs riddled with sleep morning quickies.

He can’t resist the temptation.

You’ll hear Shouto’s piercing alarm go off in the morning, jostling you from your dreams. The sheets rustle as Shouto maneuvers to turn off his alarm.

Your lids are droopy, and your limbs lag by a couple seconds when you turn over to cling to him.

You sprawl out half way on top of his chest and you slip your arms around his neck, nuzzling his shoulder.

“Sho,” you mumble in his ear, voice rasp and faint. He snakes an arm around your waist, tugging you closer when you brush your lips over his cheek.

“Mm?” The noise he makes rumbles in his chest.

“I want you before you go, please,” you plead softly, kissing along his jawline. He squeezes you tighter briefly, responding without a trace of hesitation.

“Turn over baby, I’ll have to make it quick.”

So, you shift around until you’re on your side. Back facing Shouto as he scoots in close, wiggling down until his forehead rests at the back of your neck.

He shoves the large T-shirt you’re wearing up to your ribs. Smoothing his hand over your bare ass and squeezing until your breath hitches in your throat. Shouto smacks your ass playfully.

Automatically you lift your thigh and Shouto grips underneath it to keep it in that position, shifting his legs until he’s got the right angle.

The silky, warm skin of his full cock slides along your pussy and you jolt. He must’ve got rid of his briefs at some point.

Shouto shift his hips, pressing the head of his cock to your pussy, rocking his hips unhurriedly until he’s sliding in and out completely with each thrust.

You’re already crying out his name, gripping the sheets.

“Is this what you needed Angel?” Shouto pants hotly against your neck. “Your pussy feels incredible,” he moans, tone pushing into a whine.

You can’t speak, still halfway asleep as Shouto takes you with slow and deliberate thrusts.

He repeatedly presses into your sweet spot as your climax builds gradually. It’s like a faucet sluggishly dripping warm water into a cup until it fills to the brim and overflows through your veins.

It doesn’t take long for Shouto to cum after you clench around him like a vice.

He presses in until his balls are flush against your skin. Biting into the back of your shoulder blade with a breathy moan. That will definitely leave a mark.

“I love you,” Shouto murmurs, planting a kiss to your cheek after he helps you get clean enough to fall back asleep.

You’re out like a light before you hear the door shut, hoping Shouto makes it to the agency on time.

[mariasont]

I Want It In Ink - S.R

a/n: the tattoo in the pic obviously isn’t what the reader has but just imagine that ✨placement✨

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer finds your secret tattoo… with his initials

warnings: suggestive content, alcohol consumption, reader has a tat with spencers initials kinda delulu but also real, secret relationship, established relationship

wc: 0.7k

You were blissfully unaware of the chaos you had caused Spencer. There you stood, not doing anything particularly special, yet you were making his head spin. It became glaringly clear why fraternizing within the office was frowned upon; concentrating on work proved to be a Herculean task when his gaze incessantly sought you out.

Currently, you were stretching upwards, fingertips grazing the spine of a book on a higher shelf, your shirt hitching up, revealing a sliver of your hip and stomach. But what captured his attention was not the skin—it was the ink he had never seen before. He had prided himself on seeing every inch of your body through an eidetic lens, yet here was a price of you he had somehow missed.

Spencer squinted, realizing he might need a new prescription for his contacts, but even with his questionable eyesight he was able to see just what was tattooed into your perfect skin.

Maybe it was temporary. But no, the subtle reddish halo encircling it and the inflammation most definitely indicated healing, and that it was, in fact, permanent.

Spencer stood so quickly that his mug nearly toppled over, coffee sloshing dangerously close to the edge. He closed the distance between you in seconds, his hand covering the tattooed area as if he could soak up the ink into his own hand, not that he’d necessarily want to.

He was startled by the reaction he had to it. The swirling warmth in his chest, the burning of his ears, the slight tightening of his pants.

“Christ,” he hissed, close enough for the word to brush against your ear. He stood at your side, affecting an interest in the printed words on the shelves as his palm stayed glued to your hip. “When did you get that?”

“Get what?” you asked, your focus elsewhere as you made another attempt at the book.

He intercepted, plucking it from the shelf and pressing it into your hands, his fingers discreetly pulling your shirt down just a fraction in the process.

You were surely going to send him into cardiac arrest.

Spencer casted a quick look over his shoulder, thanking the gods that the team was engrossed in a lively discussion about Morgan’s dating habits. “The sizable S.R on your hip.”

“Oh, that…,” you mumbled, peering down as though it were a mere afterthought, oblivious to the way his heart leapt out of his chest just to think about it. “I was kind of drunk, and—hey, Penelope, do you remember—,”

Spencer quickly covered your mouth with his hand, your words turning into a muted hum against his palm as he steered you into the break room.

“Do you realize the statistical improbability of keeping our relationship a secret if you announce my initials are on you to the whole team?”

You laugh, easing his hand away from your mouth, but not releasing it entirely, letting your entwined hands dangle at your sides.

"What? It's not like it says property of Dr. Reid."

"It might as well."

"That can be my next one." He didn’t hate the thought of that.

You were teasing him now and he could feel the smile creeping into his face. However, it quickly waned as he saw the unease on yours. Your voice was much quieter as you spoke, “are you mad?”

I could never be mad at you.

"No, I-well, I was just surprised is all," he clarified, his fingers instinctively adjusting his glasses before releasing they weren’t there and moving to his nose instead. He squeezed your hand. “I like it.”

"You like it?"

"I like it."

He wasn't lying. He liked it. A lot. Once the initial shock wore off he realized just how much he liked it. Did he mention he liked it?

His fingers moved from his nose, slipping under the hem of your shirt to trace the outline of the tattoo, already having it etched in memory. You winced.

"Does it hurt?"

"Just sore. Nothing I can't handle," you said, your shoulders rising in a dismissive shrug.

Your nose wrinkled slightly, and your gaze met his from beneath your lashes.

"Atta girl."

You licked your lips, pulling your bottom lip through your teeth as you shoved his shoulder just enough to make him clamp down harder on your hip.

"I can give you a better look at it, later tonight?"

He cleared his throat, eyes flickering to the door as his hand traveled from yours to your neck, squeezing slightly as a warning.

"Looking forward to it."

He gave your hip a small pat before walking back out the door. He had a tattoo appointment to make.

[merakidoll]

HAPPY VALENTINE DAY DADDY ! and to you guys too <3 this real self indulgent yall know this my baby

everyone knew that mr.yeager was a big flirt. he exuded sexual tension making ladies, - and men cower under his intense stare. you knew this even before you started dating him. news articles of the model playboy and how everyone was quick to fall to their knees for him, but that still did nothing to stop the desire. you and eren getting together was shocking, you not usually being his normal type but everyone could tell how deep in love he was in. he had you on his arm at any giving moment, flashing you and trying to get you on campaigns he knew he would be doing.

you were his everything. but even in that the man couldn’t contain how just naturally flirty he was. smiling in other women’s faces, while you sat pretty with a necklaces that had his initials around your neck. you burned holes into his large form, shaking you head and downing the glass of champagne storming out. of course the news made headlines, and of course eren followed you. asking what could he have possibly done wrong? and you told him, screaming out how he did it so carelessly that he just had to show the world you were his.

“r-rennieeee f-fuck baby!” you legs shook against his neck. his mouth devouring your pussy, slurping- licking- plunging his pierced tounge into your hole shocking you. the camera shook in your hands shakily capturing everything that was happening. “come’on mama” he slapped your thigh green eyes burning into you. “stop shaking - mmm. and show them that daddies all yours” his words had you crying out. your hole gushing with your orgasm throwing your head back against the expensive pillows and closing his head in. “wait wait waittttuhh” opening your legs and pushing his head away. the camera was now somewhere lying on the bed.

grabbing it himself. he put your legs over his broad shoulders, cock sliding up and down you fat pussy lips before sliding into you smoothly. thick, long cock sliding through your slippery walls slowly until the tip touched one spot in you. “n-no daddyy! toom-muchh” rising the camera to be above you. it got see all over your faces of pleasure. your tits bouncing with each impactful thrust. his cock going in and out, cream patches painting it’s tan - veiny skin driving him wild. “w-whos dick is that princess?”

he bit his lip watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. your pushed as his six pack your orgasm just a the peek. eren only pushed into you deeper. “WHOS?” he now yelled, looking at you through the view or the camera. “y-YOURSSS” you screamed squirting everywhere. your heart beat vastly legs quivering. “that’s right” he spoke lazily. his thrust got fast but slow - he was so close, and by the heavyness in his balls eren knew tonight you were gonna be giving him his child. his stuffed your cunt to the brim. making you hold your legs in the air so no cum could fall out. he made your shaky hands send the video to each women who made you feel insecure your relationship. he ignored the buzzes from his instagram kissing your soft skin while you both drifted off.

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention. 

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frienemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 5k+

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to do this, so naturally I did it anyway. This is the first chapter in a planned series with a reader insert following the events of the OPLA universe. I sincerely hope that this is a story you all love as this is my first initial time writing for one of my beloved anime. But let’s be real, after seeing Mackenyu play Zoro (my fav) I knew I was going to be whipped from the start. The reader will go by “Doc” in this story at times, and later a nickname by Zoro himself.  As always, I hope you enjoy this. Much love, Jenn. Also, thank you @thegreatesttttttttt for indulging me.

Next

The ringing of the bell thundered through the sky above. An upcoming warning of four words that would echo through the street's moments later. 

“The pirates are coming!”

You could practically hear the rest of the town groan with a sigh. Their annoyance stunk up the streets as Usopp sounded the imaginary alarm as he usually did every day around this time. Maybe it was because you considered Usopp a friend that his tall tales and wild imagination didn’t bother you. 

Instead, a sly smile tilted your lips as you continued to grind the seeds deep into the mortar. Mr. Edison’s gruff voice from outside your window reminded Usopp for the millionth time that he needed to stop as he sprinted past. 

“What is that boy going on about?” Naan huffed.

You sent a quick glance behind your shoulder at the older woman who was currently folding the recently washed linens. All of them are used with a purpose to either staunch bloody wounds or for the simple purpose of relieving colds. Naan’s linens, like her home, were used for a multitude of healing services, with the only payment she accepted was that of the kindness of others around her. 

“You already know, Naan,” you replied, your smile evident in your words. “It’s the usual afternoon reminder to stay on your toes.”

A deep chuckle came from behind you followed by the soft cough that came after. 

“These toes can’t do very much standing. So, maybe tell your friend to give me a day of rest soon.”

“Usopp has done this every day for seven years. I don’t think anything anyone will ever say will make him stop.”

Even if you could get Usopp to stop, you wouldn’t be the one to make him. You weren’t sure how many people in town knew who his father was - or that he’d been a pirate. A father by suggestion, Usopp’s wild imagination could only recall small things from the stories his mother had been willing to share, and from those stories, even greater ones grew.

While everyone else may have found Usopp’s stories as an ever-present headache you knew they held a deeper meaning. They were the only thing he knew of a man he never got to know. 

The sound of chair legs creaking across the floor cut you out of your thoughts. Just in time from the looks of the seed putty you’d created. A heavy thud on the boards informed you Naan grabbed her cane and the heavier shuffling of her feet that she was heading in your direction. 

“What are you so intently making over here, child?”

Settling down the pestle, you reached over your workstation to grab a pot. You were going to need to fetch some water to bring everything to a bowl before you strained it into a jar. 

“Water. I need to go get some water,” you murmured as you brought the pot down in front of you.

“Am I talking to myself?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Naan. Did you say something?”

This time you did dare to look at her. Her deep-set wrinkles set impossibly deeper as she regarded your work from over your shoulder. 

“Oh, I only asked what you were making that was stinking up my kitchen.”

Your eyes flew open wide as you took a deep breath in. You were sure the only thing you’d put in that maybe - maybe - smelled was the slippery elm, but you hadn’t even steeped it in the water yet. Naan must have read your panic before it began to stitch your brow together. Your eyes still helplessly peeled to the job in front of you instead of the chuckling woman behind you. 

“It’s fine, child. I’m just teasing you.”

All your panic rushed out in a huff of air as your body finally turned to greet her. Your eyes instantly took in the very tired look of hers. 

“You should get some rest, Naan.”

The two of you knew you meant well. You would never try and make Naan feel older than she already felt, except you didn’t give a damn about her feelings when you could easily spot the sweat on her upper lip. The way her body leaned more into the cane that supported her. She batted your concern away with a swat of her free hand. As if it would be enough to make whatever fear that gripped at your heart magically disappear.  

“Don’t patronize me. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. You're wheezing with every breath now-“

“I said I’m fine. Leave me alone and start worrying about whatever it is you’re making.”

“Well,  if you would stop interrupting me, maybe I could finish it!”

The irritation in your voice wasn’t hard to miss. Naan heard it too no doubt with the way her brow cocked as if begging you to repeat it. 

The silence stretched uncomfortably between you. Naan wouldn’t even look at you - probably too scared to see your eyes pleading, full of worry for her to just go lay down. 

Why must you always be so stubborn? 

The question sat on your tongue and made your words form like molasses. You weren’t a child anymore. So, it begged the question of why you were still afraid to speak to her like an adult. It didn’t matter if what you said hurt her old feelings. Not when the thought of her not being around made your chest begin to spread wide like an aching chasm. 

“You never did say what you were making.”

You pressed your tongue against your cheek while you debated if it would be worth it to try and argue with her. Of course, you were always the first one to relent and push it under the metaphorical rug.

“It’s a gift for Miss Kaya. Usopp told me her cough hadn’t changed and asked if I would make something for her.”

“Hmm,” Naan hummed in thought. “That boy is strange, but he is kind.”

“Not as strange as Kaya having an unknown illness the last few years and never seeking any aid from the town's doctor,” you grumbled. 

Naan’s hand lightly clasped your shoulder in comfort - comfort you didn’t want to accept. Not only were thoughts of Naan being sick plaguing every ounce of free space in your brain but now so was Kaya. You’d only met her once when you were younger with Usopp and after her parents died that odd butler, Klahadore, kept her under strict observation. 

In all the years you’d been with Naan, learning everything she could teach about healing, you’d found it odd that the staff never came to ask for help. You couldn’t recall a time when Sham or Buchi ever came down requesting any tonics or medicines from Naan, or for her to come with them to examine Kaya in the first place. 

I wasn’t aware they were waitstaff and doctors. 

You knew these thoughts would only dampen your mood until it turned completely sour. You just couldn’t stop the runaway train that was your thoughts from slipping back into questioning everything with the universe never giving you any new answers. 

“How many times have I told you, child, we can’t make people get help. They have to seek it themselves and that- that is when the real healing begins.”

You were already bitter and that bitterness responded to Naan’s words in the form of an eye roll. One you were lucky the older woman didn’t see. 

“It’s just not right.” 

“Right or not, it’s not our place to go butting in.”

She stood behind you for a few more minutes waiting for a reply you didn’t give. You were done talking. Done trying to get her to understand that she was sick too and that all those years of molding words and actions to help others were what drove you to help her. To help Kaya. Only Usopp seemed to notice that something in her grand home wasn’t right. 

Frustration drew tight across your chest causing your hands to seek support against the counter. For a split second, you imagined yourself splitting open and becoming two separate people. One being the doctor Naan trained you to be and the other something less controlled. Someone who was tired of listening but never being heard. 

You listened as Naan began to retreat back to her table where the rest of the linens waited to be folded. You listened as another terrible cough violently shook itself free from her lungs as you focused on your work. 

If you couldn’t help Naan you were just going to settle for helping Miss Kaya. Once you finished making Usopp’s requested medicine you were going to be sure he delivered it to her. 

It was time a doctor paid a visit. 

————

The shipyard. 

Of course, Usopp was going to be here. Why you hadn't thought to come here first felt like a mystery all on its own. 

In all the years you’d known him, Usopp’s routine hardly ever changed. He usually performed his usual pirate ritual just before he started his day in the shipyard. He was hired to care for and clean all of the ships housed within, however, and upon no real surprise to you, Usopp cleaned and polished the Going Merry daily. 

So, it didn’t surprise you to find him already on the ship. What did surprise you were the three people standing with him steps away from the Going Merry, herself. 

You didn’t feel alarmed in any way. Usopp was good with people - he enjoyed talking to anyone willing to listen. The man with the straw hat, who was grinning wildly in the direction of Usopp and then to his friends, seemed happy to listen. He was giving Usopp his full attention and whatever your friend was saying was exactly what Straw Hat wanted to hear. 

The other two people beside him, however, didn’t seem to share in the excitement. Sure, the pretty woman with the orange hair was giving all the perfect signaling queues of a smile and nod to make it believable that she was interested in anything Usopp had to say. Did she probably care about whatever was being said? Probably not, but at least she didn’t look as sour as the moss-hair-colored guy- 

Holy shit

Your feet stopped working. Your knees seemed to refuse to bend, to make any movement forward for the last few feet to close the distance to the group. For what reason? There had to be a perfectly good reason- 

Nope. Thoughts gone. Head empty. 

That was the best way to describe what was currently happening as your eyes stayed glued to the three-sword-wielding swordsman standing next to the woman. 

Three swords? You wondered. Where does the other one go?

Maybe you would ask him if you ever summed up the courage to do just that. If you could just get your legs to function again. 

In all the time you’d lived on Shell Island you were more than positive you’d never seen someone that looked close to him. Especially someone carrying around three swords or standing with so much purpose. Even as your eyes took him in you could tell he was pretending to be relaxed, but after years of mending bodies, you noticed the tightness between his shoulder blades. The ease he tried to display with a hand resting on the hilt of the sword wasn’t actually resting. Even relaxed, this man was ready to unsheathe those blades and use them at a moment's notice. 

While the idea made you consider him a great swordsman, your heart also ached at the thought of feeling trapped and weary of others' intentions. 

Your thoughts would’ve continued to run wild as you embarrassingly gawked at this stranger and his friends. All of that was ruined, however, when Usopp caught a glimpse of you between orange and green hair. 

“Doc!”

Usopp’s excitement translated to a crazy arm wave and immediately caused all three of his newfound friends to face you. God, this meant you had to get your legs working. You had to physically move closer. You could do that. No problem. 

Taking in a deep breath, you allowed a genuine smile to raise your lips in welcome. Luckily, your feet didn’t betray you as you moved the last few feet. You made a mental note as you got closer that the straw hat was meeting your smile with his own, while the other two regarded you with lackluster enthusiasm. 

Great. They were the grumpy types of people. 

“There you are Usopp,” you began cheerfully. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” 

“You know, Usopp?” Asked straw hat. 

You felt your brow crease in question as your smile wilted at the corners. 

“I would hope so. We’ve known each other since we’ve lived here.”

“Impressive,” mumbled the woman. 

Okay, maybe she wasn’t as friendly as you originally thought, but she was still definitely friendlier than moss hair. Who currently felt like he was drilling holes into your chest. 

“Ugh, Doc I was just going to take these guys to visit, Kaya,” Usopp interjected. 

He was still smiling - always smiling. His eyes darted to the three new faces before landing back at you. 

“Why would you take them to see, Kaya?”

“She owns the shipyard and we-“Straw hat interjected, “Are in need of a ship. That beautiful ship behind us, to be exact.” 

You glanced behind him to the Going Merry. Kaya’s family ship. 

You shot Usopp a questioning glance that you weren’t surprised to see him ignore. He was up to something there was no doubting that. The issue was you weren’t sure what angle he was trying to play. 

“Good luck with that.” 

You did mean it. You didn’t think he was going to get it no matter how good-natured he seemed. That was still a family memory you weren’t sure Kaya would be willing to part with. 

“Thanks!”

“Doc, before I take them over there do you by chance have what I asked for?”

You patted your satchel for good measure before you replied, “That’s why I was looking for you. I have it right here.” 

Usopp took a step towards you, his hand outstretched in waiting for you to deposit the bottle. When you didn’t comply with his request he shot you a look of worry. 

“You do have it right?”

“Yes, Usopp I told you I did. I just want to come with you to check on her myself.”

A look of worry dimmed the mirth in his eyes for one second. If you didn’t know what to look for you would have missed it entirely. You knew he’d been asking you for months to sneak in with him to visit Kaya. His own suspicions began to outweigh the doubt that plagued his heart with every heavy decision that needed to be made. 

Deep down, Usopp knew if you were finally going to answer his request of sneaking in with him, it must be serious. A concept Usopp himself purposely tried to run from often. 

“Wait, you’re a doctor? That is so cool!” 

You needed to learn Straw Hat’s name because he was growing on you fast. 

“I’m no-“

“She’s actually one of the best doctors in the whole East Blue,” Usopp beamed. “She’s cured this small village of at least two possible plague outbreaks twice already.” 

You were willing to bet your eyes were the size of saucers. There was no way any of them would believe that kind of nonsense. There was absolutely no way- 

“Wow, now that is really impressive! Sounds just like somebody who should be a part of my crew-“

“No!”

“We are not a crew!”

The absolute verbal whiplash you just experienced left your head reeling to pick up on every conversation. Straw Hat was practically turning into pure sunshine in front of you, while the other two were glaring like you’d sprouted three heads. 

Geez, what a tough crowd. 

“Ok, wait what?”

“It’s nothing he doesn’t mean anything by it,” the woman replied, a tight smile thinning out her lips. 

“We don’t need someone pretending to play medicine woman to join us.” 

Your eyes narrowed in on the now green-haired monster. He met your cold glance with his own. Whoever - whatever - he experienced in his life meant he didn’t find you the least bit threatening. He regarded you like an annoyance and you found yourself wondering why the universe made all the grumpy ones the most attractive. 

If his lips pouted any harder he was going to have to rent a kissing booth. 

“For your information, I’m not a pretend doctor.”

Whatever he was going to reply with was cut off by Straw hat who quickly pointed at himself. “I’m Luffy, and these are my companions Nami and Zoro.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Luffy,” you beamed letting them know your name in response. “But most people just refer to me as Doc because of Usopp.” 

Nami clapped her hands together to bring you both back to the matter at hand. Kaya’s medicine. Their boat. 

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can we get going? We really should stop by and pay her a visit.” 

“Oh yeah! Come on guys, I can show you the fastest way there.” 

Usopp tossed down his rag and skipped backward to the crate where his own satchel sat. 

“Great! If you guys will kindly follow me this way I can show you something really awesome.” 

You wanted to smack some sense into him. Usopp always wanted to be liked - for people to spend time with him and enjoy it. Besides Kaya and you who humored him with his opulent imagination and ability to spin fables like cotton candy. These people, Luffy excluded, did not deserve his endearing desire for friendship. They were both giving off major chip on their shoulder vibes and you vowed to become an even bigger pain in the ass if they were unnecessarily rude to him. 

They didn’t wait to know if you were joining them or even behind them. They all moved forward to follow Usopp, who was spit-firing a conversation at Luffy who easily seemed to match it with his own charisma. Nami and Zoro trudged behind them both and you brought up the rear. 

You’d hoped at some point Luffy or Usopp would drag you into the conversation. Anything that would keep your wandering eyes from constantly burrowing holes between Zoro’s sculpted shoulders. If you didn’t locate some form of self-control soon, you were positive your brain would be sent spinning into a tangent about how martial arts training with weapons was a godsend. So, looking at your feet for the next few miles would have to suffice. 

It was strange how the world between poverty and the rich was such an overwhelming force. The farther you ventured out past the town and into the privacy of the landscape that kept Kaya’s family home hidden, it was a wonder that anyone would know it was there. 

There were endless strawberry fields that farmers planted on one side and potatoes on the other. Dozens of workers tended to their growth with their hard work and sweat until a wall of bamboo cut off any view. All you could see was an endless path swallowed in bamboo branches making the path more foreboding than you thought necessary. 

When you finally came in through the front gates, their iron and mortar was a welcomed sight. The one thing that wasn’t was that stupid Well you’d grown to hate ever since you almost fell in looking over the side as a child. 

“I’ve never seen a house this big before.” 

Luffy’s admission sent your eyes up from your feet to the large garden entrance. And that damned well that sat like a mockery in the middle of the walkway to the front. 

“It’s impressive, right? Kaya’s given me an open invitation to stop by anytime I want.” 

Your eyes darted over to Usopp who was practically skipping with excitement as he and Luffy made their way over to the well. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t. If he did, Usopp would only find you looking at him - full of questions - with a look calling him a liar. You would never want him to feel bad. It was never your intention, however, it was going to be more embarrassing if you all got caught and thrown out on your ass than just being honest. 

“Wow. That’s pretty awesome,” Luffy breathed. His face was full of wonder as he continued to take in the large space. “All of this is just for one person?”

“Well…she lives here with a few other staff.”

“Yeah. A bunch of asshole staff,” you grumbled under your breath.

By the way, Luffy and Usopp were hanging over the side of the well - ick - neither of them had heard you. Unfortunately, your fellow rear buddies did. 

“You don’t seem to be a fan of the staff?” Nami ventured. 

You eyed her carefully. She came off friendly enough, but she wasn’t giving anything else away. The small smile on her lips wasn’t reaching her eyes. Instead, they were calculating and waiting for you to give her any information you were willing or unwilling to give. 

Nami was incredibly smart and equally dangerous because of it. 

“They do a lot of suspicious things,” you replied slowly, unsure of how much sharing was too much. 

“I’m sure butlers don’t come harboring life-threatening secrets,” Zoro countered.

His hand shoved in a pocket while the other still rested on the sword. He regarded you the way adults do children making up fairytales. The way the townspeople looked at Usopp like a silly child always crying wolf. They both thought you were being silly, and you wish you could say their disregard didn’t make your chest cave in just a bit, but you never were a good liar. 

“No, maybe butlers don’t,” you countered, “but people do.”

When neither of them showed signs of continuing on with the conversation you started forward following Usopp and Luffy. You didn’t care about whatever conversation Zoro or Nami were having behind you. They could’ve been discussing robbing the place blind for all you could care about. 

You were worried more about the people than the objects inside. 

“If you have an invitation, why are we going through the back way?”

Just tell them, Usopp. 

“Oh, well I never go through the front entrance. This is more of a VIP entrance.”

“This guy is full of shit.”

“Yeah, but if he gets us inside who cares.” 

Why was Luffy the only member of this merry band of misfits who weren’t incredibly grumpy? 

“Usopp,” you called out to him in a warning. 

He gave you a glance over his shoulder before he made his way over the giant lily pads without a reply. 

Little shit, you thought as you realized he was very much choosing to ignore your existence. Did you blame him? Not really. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had humored him this long and you were debating on if you should be the one to crush his newfound hopes and dreams. 

Fortunately for you, you weren’t going to have to be the bad guy in that scenario. One already seemed to exist. 

Just as Usopp reached the second lily pad, you knew something was wrong. The hiccup of an, “Oh,” that came out of him registering as panic. He was already turning back to stop Luffy from coming closer, almost begging him to go to another entrance - an extra special one - when he was interrupted by a knife plunging into the lily pad between his feet. 

A very sharp knife. One you knew could’ve easily severed flesh or nicked an artery. Your blood boiled as you pushed past Luffy, your eyes darting wildly as Buchi stalked towards Usopp who stuttered past a greeting. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Usopp?” He snapped as his hands lurched in to grasp the leather of Usopp’s top. “You know you aren’t welcome here.” 

“I know nothing of the sort. I came to give Kaya an extra-special gift.”

You practically glided past the last lily pad when a sharp hiss cut the air. You didn’t necessarily need to look to see if it was Sham. You knew it was. She stood just off the first step from where they’d been disemboweling the hog, mop at the ready, and her teeth bared directly at you.

“He’s brought the doctor,” she hissed. 

Buchi finally seemed to register your presence from behind Usopp and bared his own teeth in warning. 

“You are definitely not welcome here.”

“A rather odd thing to say to a healer when your mistress seems to be suffering a mysterious illness.”

“An illness we are more than capable of handling.”

“I find that highly doubtful.”

With his hands still holding onto Usopp, Buchi leaned forward to growl - literally growl - in your face like a rabid dog. You wanted to poke him in the eye and were incredibly tempted to do so when a soft voice cut through the tension. 

“Usopp! What a wonderful surprise!”

Everyone’s attention shifted as Kaya made her entrance on the arm of Klahadore. You took a step back and away from the two just so Usopp could twist himself free and walk towards the waiting mistress of the estate. 

“I wouldn’t miss today of all days. Happy birthday, Kaya.”

“You remembered.”

My god, she was practically swooning and Usopp was eating it up. 

“I could never forget.” 

This feels awkward. 

They acted like they didn’t have a captive audience watching them look at each other like two lovestruck teenagers. 

It wasn’t hard to notice how Kaya beamed at him or how that attention brought happiness to Usopp. For as long as you can remember, even as children, Usopp always liked her. Sure, he would play it off as if they were just friends. There was no way she could see him that way, but when Kaya’s parents passed away three years ago what was between them seemed to change. Their feelings became something saturated in an understanding of loss. Usopp knew what Kaya needed because it was something he himself had never truly received. 

So, did it bother you that she actually hadn’t greeted you yet? Not really. What did bother you, however, was the way Klahadore’s eyes slithered over to you. It made you feel like you were going to be sick.

“Usopp. Did you bring the doctor with you?”

Please, let me crawl into a hole and die. 

There was something off about Klahadore. It wasn’t just because he made your skin want to completely crawl off your body. It was the way he sounded every alarm bell in your brain. The way your heart speeds up triggering the fight or flight response that was ingrained in your body's defense system. The way he continued to look at you as if you were a bug that needed to be squashed, only drove the feeling home. 

“Oh, yeah. Kaya, I had Doc make you something for your cough. I figured it might be worth a try.” 

God, he looked so happy. He was completely oblivious to how Klahadore seemed ready to smite you both where you stood. 

You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Maybe when you opened them he wouldn’t be staring daggers into your face. 

Nope. No such luck. 

“Oh, that is so incredibly sweet,” Kaya beamed. 

Klahadore slowly set his hand out in front of him. The cold obsidian of his eyes never left your face as he spoke. “Please hand over whatever tonic you’ve acquired for Miss Kaya.”

You weren’t aware your hand was already in the satchel. Your fingers wrapped protectively tight against the cool glass of the bottle as you continued to stare at one another. 

“Hand it over. Please.”

“No-“

Usopp’s hand on your shoulder stopped you cold. Your teeth ground tightly to stop your next words. You didn’t want to hand that asshole anything. Not when Kaya looked so damn pale. 

Something is wrong. 

The thought wormed its way into your brain until it gnawed at all other thoughts until it consumed every available spot. It was all you could think as your eyes continued to look over her frail frame. 

Naan taught you that as a doctor, and as a healer, it was your job to fight for your patients. To always do what you could and what was best for their care. Was giving the medicine you made for Kaya to Klahadore best for her care. 

No. No, it sure as shit didn’t feel like it. 

Maybe that was why it felt like such a betrayal to take the medicine from your bag and drop it inside his gloved hand. You watched as his disgusting white fingers wrapped around the gray bottle and brought it up to rest closely to his chest. 

“Now, Usopp we’ve had this discussion about coming here unannounced - and this time with a doctor.”

“Nonsense, Klahadore,” Kaya interjected. “They are my friends. What a sweet gesture it was, Doc to try and make me something. Usopp, did you come to tell me more stories about your adventures?”

“I can do you one better. I brought some of my crew.”

With a sweep of his arm, Usopp introduced Luffy, Nami, and Zoro who registered this gesture with sheer disbelief. Well, disbelief would be putting it mildly. 

“Is he talking about us?” 

Luffy sounded as confused as you felt. 

“I’m sorry, but we do not have any room for any extra guests tonight, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh please, Klahadore couldn’t they at least stay for dinner? It is my birthday.”

You hated how Kaya had to beg to have company that wasn’t her staff. You could vaguely remember the butler who was in charge before Klahadore had arrived. Mr. Thorburr had been an absolute delight and genuinely seemed to care about Kaya and her family’s wellbeing. If he was still in charge, you were positive he would’ve believed in letting Kaya outside to enjoy the garden or have friends stop by, even unannounced, to visit. 

One day he was just gone and slowly the only staff that was left were these three assholes. It all felt awfully convenient or maybe you were just being petty because you disliked them.

The way Klahadore looked at her made your stomach turn. 

“Anything for you, Miss Kaya.”

You wondered if he choked a little over each word as they traveled up his throat.

“Great!” Luffy shouted. “When do we eat?”

“You don’t. Not dressed like that. You will change and bathe before dinner. No exceptions.”

Everyone was willing to accept the invitation. The premise of a bath seemed enough to make Nami practically skip forward to be led inside by Sham. Your feet, however, refused to move. Usopp, Luffy, and Nami practically took the small stairs up to the patio in one giant leap. Your earlier dread from the day was back and something dark borrowed its way into your chest. 

Something is wrong. 

You were about to turn tail and run when you noticed Zoro stop at the edge of the stairs. His body turned slightly to eye Klahadore one last time before he turned to follow after his crew. It was small and barely lasted a second, but it was enough. 

Zoro noticed something wasn’t right either and maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one to believe you. All you had to do was join him inside the house to talk to him. No biggie. 

Taking in a deep breath you finally moved to follow behind Kaya and Klahadore. Your eyes intently following a particular green-haired swordsman and wondering how you were going to get him alone. 

The showers seemed like a great place to start.

_______________________

As always, thank you for reading. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

[mellowswriting]

Hiiii! First of all let me tell you that i love all your Javier Peña fics omg you keep us the Javi girlies fed!!!!

And second! I saw that your requests were open and i had to come here! would you ever consider writing something about Javi being possesive bc some guy’s flirting with reader but she doesn’t realize until much late and he gets jealous and overall breeding kink bc he wants to make her all his and put a baby in her so everyone knows who she belongs to!

his girl

pairing || Javier Peña x fem!Reader

word count || 3.6k

summary || There's a possessiveness that strikes a man once he finally has everything he's ever wanted. Javier soothes that animal feeling by marking you - his ring on your finger, his initial hanging at your throat, his marks sucked into your skin. But lately, it just isn't enough. Luckily, he has the perfect plan. He's putting a baby in your belly.

content || SMUT, jealousy, possessiveness, explicit breeding kink, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), dirty talk, rough sex/manhandling, aftercare, praise, massages, husband!Javi being an absolute menace, unbeta'd and unedited (written largely while having covid, so bear with me babes)

a/n || has this sat in my inbox for a humiliating amount of time? yes. did I have a blast finally writing it? absolutely. I am forever and ever in love with husband!Javi

Javier Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library Blog

Javier loves watching you. He has from the very beginning, long before he could even call you his. From the very moment you started occupying the desk across from him, he has loathed taking his eyes off of you. He took note of the little things. The way you threw your head back and laughed at Murphy’s awful jokes. The furrow of your brow as you read over a file. The smile you flashed him when your eyes locked from across the room. You consumed him right from the start. Those glimpses grew more personal as he gravitated toward you, unable to resist the pull of that warm smile and the spitfire burning in your blood. The grumpy expression you wear in those first weary moments after waking. The dramatic glance you give him when you overhear a couple arguing in the grocery store. The feeling of your weight sinking into him as you fall asleep in the bed you share.

No matter how much time passes, he still finds himself enamored by the very sight of you. A glass of whiskey sweats on the table in front of him, relatively untouched. He’s too busy eying you from across the bar to bother with it. You look so beautiful in the low light, chatting and smiling with your girls as you wait for the bartender. He can’t even guess the number of times he’s seen you in this bar, wearing that pretty little dress, but it doesn’t matter. You catch his eye every time.

There’s only one problem. He isn’t the only one looking.

Possessiveness comes naturally to a man who finally has everything he wants. It flares in his chest, hot and untamed, as a man settles against the bar beside you. The man says something to catch your attention and leans closer with a flirtatious smile - and Javier has to bite back the urge to rip his throat out. The man must be oblivious to the ring on your finger and the ‘J’ hanging from the thin gold chain around your neck. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. Javier grits his teeth and tries to be patient.

He lasts less than five minutes.

Your eyes light up when you spot him shouldering his way through the crowd. The urge to kiss that dazzling smile off your lips is irresistible. His name just barely leaves you before his hands find the familiar curve of your waist and tug you close. He kisses you, softly at first. His hand cradles your jaw and you melt into him, your fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist. Your breathing stutters in your chest. Javier swears he gets high off the ease with which you sway for him.

The parting of your lips is an invitation he takes without hesitation. You tug him closer by the front of his shirt as he deepens the kiss. The way you cling to him sends a thrill of arousal through him. He can’t help but tighten his grip at your waist, pinning you back against the bartop just slightly. Javier eagerly drinks in the little moan he pulls from you. Fuck, he knows he has to stop before he bends you right over this damn bartop. He gives you one last kiss, short and sweet, before he reluctantly pulls away. You look up at him with those bright eyes and a tipsy little smile.

He gives your waist a little squeeze. “So, who’s your new friend?”

“Huh…? Oh!” You brush off the haziness with a little shake of your head. “This is… um, James! He’s Maria’s brother.”

“Nice to meet you.” Javier curls a covetous arm around your waist and holds you close. He offers his other hand to James and when the man shakes it, he makes sure to squeeze. Hard. He tries not to look too proud of himself. A song comes across the bar’s speakers, something familiar with a good beat. “Well, I hate to cut this short but my wife looks like she needs a dance.”

James is smart enough to take the hint and get the hell out of there.

You let out a knowing laugh as Javier tugs you into the crowd. “What was that about?”

“I need an excuse to dance with my girl?” He asks, the picture of innocence.

It doesn’t take long for you to forget the whole thing once he gets his hands on you. Javier can feel the shift in your energy. Every gentle, lingering touch only makes you melt into him more. You lean back into his chest, your head resting against his shoulder. He can smell your shampoo and perfume, and the feeling of your hips swaying against him makes his cock twitch.

Your dress twists in his greedy grip as he shamelessly gropes your ass and your drunken giggle is music to his ears. He has to force himself not to be too rough. The soft, lacey fabric falls delicately at your waist, all flowy and beautiful. He loves this dress on you - and so does every other man in this bar. Javier spots James watching the two of you from across the room and that familiar need to stake his claim flares.

His hand drifts up from your waist to your chest and his fingers trace the little gold ‘J’ that hangs there before going higher. His fingers wrap around your throat and you don’t even open your eyes. Your trust is so painfully clear and it makes his cock even harder. He tilts your head to the side, plants a hot kiss against your pulse point, and you melt even more for him. James averts his gaze, his cheeks bright red.

Pride and possessiveness vie for control, an unwinnable fight between his love of showing you off and the unbearable need for everyone to know exactly who you belong to. The ring on your finger, his initial at your neck - it just isn’t enough.

The idea takes root before his rational mind can stop it. Instinct and pure possessiveness blend into one rabid, desperate need: he needs to knock you up. The mere image is enough to have him grinding his cock against your ass without shame. Your belly swelling with the baby he planted there. The flowy fabric of this dress stretching over your stomach until it doesn’t fit. Huddling up with you in those tiny dressing rooms as you try on new clothes. His baby on your hip and another growing in your belly. The undeniable proof of who exactly you belong to - his wife, the mother of his children. His, his his.

“Every man in this bar has been eying you up all night,” Javier grumbles.

“Ah, that’s what this is about…” You say indulgently. “Feeling jealous?”

“They think they have a chance if I’m not glued to your side. That pretty ring on your finger is just a challenge to them.” The annoyance rings clear in his voice. You turn around in his arms, a teasing smile on your pretty face. He knows just how much you love it when he gets like this. His arms tighten around you. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll make sure they know you belong to me.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “And how are you doing that?”

Javier tightens his arms around you until your chest is flush with his. The smirk fades from your face, quickly replaced with something softer, more curious. He leans closer until his lips brush your ear, his voice low and dripping with sin. “I’m gonna take you home and put a baby in your belly.”

He watches the realization wash over you - the way your breath catches and your eyes go all wide. The buttons of his shirt twist in your hand where you cling to him. Your eyes flick back and forth as you study his face, obviously trying to gauge his seriousness. There isn’t a hint of humor or halfheartedness to be found.

“Fuck… I- really? Are you serious?” You whisper. Anticipation curls tight in his belly. Javier grabs your jaw, his touch gentle as he keeps your attention solely on him.

“Not letting you out of that bed ‘til I knock you up.” He murmurs as his thumb traces the line of your bottom lip. You draw in a shuddering breath, your pupils blown out as you look up at him with an expression he knows all too well. All tender, lush with softness and submission. “Everyone will know exactly who you fuckin’ belong to with my baby growing in your belly.”

Your eyes flutter shut, a vain attempt to steady yourself. “Javi…”

“Yeah?” He whispers. “What do you think?”

“I think…” You lock eyes with his. “I think you need to take me home. Now.”

A thrill surges through him. He couldn’t get you out of there faster, even if he tried.

The front door barely closes before you kick off your heels and take off toward the bedroom. Adrenaline rushes through you at the sound of Javier hot on your tail. Your laughter echoes through the hall as he chases you down. The bedroom is just in your sight when you feel his arms wrap around your waist and he yanks you up off of your feet - just to prove that he can. Picture frames rattle against the wall where he pushes you up against it. He shoves his thigh between your legs and the pressure against your aching cunt sends pleasure arcing up your spine. The kiss he gives you is hot and frenzied, searing pure desire into your skin.

You don’t hesitate to grab a handful of his hair, which has finally grown out enough to show off those pretty curls you adore. Javier moans and that deep, rich rumble sends you into overdrive. You grind against his thigh, the thin cotton of your underwear all that separates you from the friction you truly crave. A sharp nip of his teeth against your lower lip makes you gasp but he soothes you with a skillful swipe of his tongue.

He breaks the kiss, only to gift his attention to the long line of your throat. The blunt edge of his teeth digs into the place where your neck and shoulder meet. You know there will be a mess of marks all over your skin at this rate, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when you know that you will bear an indisputable mark of his claim soon enough. Heat courses through you at the thought. Javier finally relents and leans back to take in his handiwork, seeming satisfied with the latest hickey on your throat. Your hand absentmindedly strokes the mark he just left and his eyes track the movement, a smirk growing on his handsome face.

“Don’t worry, baby.” He murmurs. “I’m only getting started.”

The grip he has on your waist is bruising as he walks you back toward the bed. You let yourself get lost in the way he manhandles you onto the bed, your thighs spread to welcome his body between them. The image of him standing over you is breathtaking - the fire burning in his eyes, the kiss-bitten quality to his lips, the flush that has overtaken his neck and chest. You don’t get long to admire him before he falls to his knees and pushes the skirt of your dress up to your waist. He yanks you closer to the edge of the mattress and a startled sound comes from you - but it melts away into a moan as he tongues your cunt over your soaked panties.

“Fuck,” You sigh, your hand snaking down to bury in his hair. Instinct drives your hips to buck up into that sinful mouth and Javier rewards you with an eager groan. The telltale pop of seams meets your ears a mere millisecond before your husband tears through the lace underwear you wore just for him. You gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair. “What the fuck are you - oh, fuck.”

“Gotta get you nice and ready for my cock, amor.” He murmurs.

The wet heat of his mouth against your bare cunt steals the fight right out from under you. He doesn’t falter as your thighs wrap around his head - in fact, it only encourages him. He eats you out like a man starved, like your dripping cunt is the only sustenance he could ever need. If you weren’t so strung out on pleasure, you would be embarrassed by the sounds he pulls from your body - wet, desperate, filthy sounds. His tongue circles over your clit in steady strokes that have you shivering with white-hot pleasure.

You can’t resist the temptation to look at him. Those dark eyes gleam at you from between your thighs, feverish with lust. Two thick fingers slip inside you and hook upwards, finding that sweet spot with practiced ease. A violent shudder rocks through your body as he drives you closer and closer to that edge. He needs it almost as much as you do - you know just from the glint in his eyes. Pure hunger, pure devotion. He moans in encouragement as you grind into his touch, easily rocking in sync with your movements. You can practically read the words running through his head.

C’mon, sweet thing. Let go. Come for me.

That ever-tightening coil in your belly finally snaps. Every nerve ending lights up with the pleasure that surges through you, leaving you a trembling, whining mess beneath him. Little sparks flicker through your core with every lingering caress of his fingers and lick of his tongue. It isn’t until you push his head away that he finally relents. You sink into the shivery haze of it all, the weightless, floating feeling he always brings out in you. Bliss surrounds you in every gentle stroke of his fingers and sweet praise that leaves his lips.

Javier’s hands deftly unzip the back of your dress and slip it from your body, your bra quickly following it onto the floor. You shiver at the chill of the air against your sweat-slick skin, but he’s quick to remedy that. You swear your husband burns hotter than a damn furnace, but you welcome the heat of his bare skin against yours. He showers you with attention as you come down. Messy kisses leave wet marks along your chest and throat. His warm hands wander and squeeze at your thighs and waist - any soft, supple flesh he can get his greedy hands on.

His fingers nudge your jaw up and he captures your lips in a lazy kiss, all tongue and sweetness. It’s too easy to get lost in the heat of it - the easy caress of his tongue, the grip of his fingers holding you right where he wants you, the rough brush of his stubble. He steals the breath from your lungs and breathes life back into you in the same second. Intoxicating - that’s the only way you can describe the attention he gives you. Need still thrums through you, even with the sensitivity still pulsing through your body.

Javier groans as you pull his body flush against yours, the heavy weight of his cock resting between your thighs. He pulls back and takes in the sight of his cock gliding along your slick cunt. He’s transfixed as he slowly thrusts against you, those big hands palming your ass eagerly. The head of his cock nudges your clit and you whine, your body jerking with the overstimulation.

“Shh, I got you, baby,” He murmurs, his voice low and rough with lust. Anticipation sings in your veins, only to be dashed as he keeps rocking his hips at a devastatingly slow pace. Your voice breaks around his name, every ounce of need bled into your tone, but Javier just smirks down at you. He squeezes the soft flesh of your thighs. “Use your words, baby.”

“Fuck, please” Heat rushes to your cheeks and floods your core at his teasing words. Javier shakes his head and tuts at you, unmoving in his ploy to get exactly what he wants. Your teeth tug at the soft pillow of your bottom lip before soothing the mark with a careful swipe of your tongue. His gaze follows the movement, his own lips parting as he takes you in. You take advantage of the distraction with ease. Those deep eyes flit back to your own as your fingers brush his cheek. The touch draws him closer, his nose nearly brushing yours.

“Put a baby in me. Let me make you a daddy.”

An animalistic sound leaves Javier’s chest, something rough and feral and promising. Javier sinks into the slick heat of your cunt in one easy thrust, not stopping until his cock presses snugly against your cervix. It damn near drives you crazy - the stretch, the stimulation, the pleasure-pain of almost too much. Your hips jerk, your body instinctively pulling away from the overstimulation.

“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” Javier grits out as his hands take a firm grip on your waist, holding you in place as he presses even deeper. The whine that leaves you feels pathetic but you can’t help it. Not when he’s so fucking deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. “No running, mama. You’re gettin’ what you begged for.”

The words that hang at the tip of your tongue disappear as he pulls back a few inches only to fill you all over again. Your nails find purchase in the taut muscle of his shoulders as he sets a devastatingly languid pace. He retreats just enough for you to feel the loss before he sinks as deep as your body can take him. Every thrust forces a broken sound from your lips, sounds that only encourage him to take you apart piece by piece.

Pleasure scorches your belly, reignited into an uncontrollable blaze under your husband’s tender hands. It hurts so good - you can’t help but cling to him and roll your hips in time with his. You meet him touch for touch. He pushes, you pull. He gives, you take - and take and take and take. It only fuels his need to take you apart that much more. His hands slip to the small of your back and curve your ass up at that perfect angle to make you see stars.

“Too much, too much - fuck, Javi!” You babble through the onslaught.

“It’s not enough, baby,” Javier whispers. The wet heat of his mouth against your ear makes you shiver. “Can never get enough of you.”

The hard edge of his pelvis grinds against your sensitive clit and your body jolts under the rush of pleasure. Your body fights it, fights him, but your squirming is something he handles all too well. He pins you into the sheets with his weight, his thrusts devolving into sharp grinds that make you cry out beneath him. He can feel it in every pulse of your cunt.

“That’s it,” The low growl in his voice makes you tremble. “Come for me, little mama.”

Your eyes roll and your vision whites out as a second orgasm crashes over your body. It feels like something breaks - something gushing and hot and wet. You can hear the soft sounds of praise somewhere underneath the blood rushing in your ears. It isn’t until your double vision finally comes back together that you feel it - every hot pulse of his cock inside of you, intensified by the way your cunt milks him for every last drop.

You welcome the full weight of his body sinking into you. Javier buries his face in your neck with a soft grunt. Goosebumps follow every sloppy kiss he presses there, praise murmured between every pass of his lips. You don’t know just how long you lay there soaking it in but soon enough, the ache in your hips interrupts the bliss.

“Javi,” You nudge his hip with your knee but he doesn’t budge. “Javi,”

“Mm,” He grunts as he cranes his head back to take a look at you.

“M’ sore, baby. Gotta get up.” You murmur.

Javier drags himself off of you with a groan and before you can do more than flex your legs, he maneuvers you up onto the bed. You can’t help but chuckle as he gets you settled against the mountain of fluffy pillows and immediately crowds against you once more. You cradle his face in your hands and draw him closer, your nose brushing his. His lips part in a quiet sigh as his gaze flits over your face. A tender, aching devotion lays bare on his own. You can see it all - the pride, the wonder, the love. You card your fingers through his hair, pushing the dark, overgrown curls away from his pretty face. Javier kisses you soft and slow, a low hum of happiness rumbling through him.

Something warm and happy settles in your chest as he eases you onto your stomach and sets to work rubbing your shoulders and back. His thumbs dig into every knot he comes across, working you into a melted mess of happiness. He’s so good at taking care of you, your lovely husband. So thorough, so attentive. For the millionth time, you’re struck by how lucky you are. You couldn’t imagine a better man to raise a family with.

“You’re going to be such an amazing dad, sweetheart.” You murmur drowsily. His hands pause where they were working at a particularly stubborn knot in your lower back. A deep breath shudders through him and suddenly, he’s straddling your thighs. His cock twitches against your ass and you wiggle against him despite your exhaustion. You can’t help but tease him. “Already, Javi? I don’t know…”

“Shh, just one more…” He murmurs, his voice dark and lusty as he manhandles you onto your stomach. He squeezes your thighs and moans low in his chest. “Let me do all the work, honey. Just one more and it’ll take, I know it…”

[meowzfordayz]

caught with them (; — hashira men

Author’s Note: mostly humorous, but ~a lil steamy. 😉 Update: some are def steamier than others. 😅

caught with them (; — hashira men

Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Iguro Obanai x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader

Word Count: ~1,500

CW: 18+NSFW, accidental v!yeurism, cream!pie, dark humor, degrading language, explicit language, Fem!Reader

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Hi T! May I please request an emergency request (I'm  getting surgery on Thursday and I'm a bit stressed) can you please write funny nsfw headcanons where all the male hashira ( except Muichiro) making love to their fem s/o and all of a sudden she calls out ,"Daddy!", And the guys think she's being kinky and they were getting so into it but then with her serious demeanor they stopped and turned to find out it was actually their s/O's Dad who came in to visit? Please and thank you.

~faqs~

“Daddy!”

Initially confused

Gyomei didn’t realize you were into that 😏

And he was too invested in how perfectly your pussy suffocated his dick to hear approaching footsteps 💀

“G-gyomei,” you gasp, burning w/ embarrassment, legs wrapped around his waist as you sit full and sweaty on his lap, nose pressed into his shoulder, suddenly grateful it’s his back facing the living room doorway

“Hm?” he murmurs lowly, blissfully unaware, nearing his orgasm as he continues guiding your hips w/ strong, broad palms

“Mydad’shere,” you manage to explain, nearly choking on the feeling of his tip grazing your cervix

😳😱😵

#Gyomei is no longer confused

“Oh dear,” he mutters, mortification clear in his voice

Even as his eyebrows furrow, cock twitching in your heat as he finally cums

Meanwhile, your poor dad’s like: 🫠🫠🫠

“Well don’t just stand there!” you shriek, “Go make yourself tea or something!”

Best believe your dad immediately disappears to make himself something much stronger than tea 😭

“Daddy!”

And that’s when Obanai remembers 😳

“Please tell me what’s happening isn’t what I think is happening.”😖

—You thought you knew what his desperation sounded like

—Especially after cockwarming him for hrs, clenching and gently grinding every so often to keep him on edge, computer screen bright w/ half finished work, swivel chair squeaking whenever you decide to roll your hips

—But this definitely takes the cake 🥴

“Unfortunately, my dad is here for our scheduled luncheon that we completely forgot about, but fortunately he is also going to wait in his car,” you grit out, glaring harshly at your equally distraught parent, “We’ll be ready shortly.”

Newsflash: your dad could care less about when you’ll be ready for lunch

In fact, he’d much prefer to cancel lunch altogether

Who needs lunch when their appetite’s just been ruined by an emotionally scarring event?

As soon as your dad leaves, you clamber off of Obanai’s lap, his cock slick and swollen as he slips from your heat, needy whine shiny on his lips

“We’ll revisit this later,” you promise, “With the door closed.”

Despite the waves of embarrassment still crashing through him, he can’t resist cracking a wicked smile, drinking in the sight of your naked form as you bend over to hand him his shirt, previously discarded on the floor

“Dessert? Sounds good to me.” 😎

“Daddy!”

Kyojuro pauses mid thrust, expression eager, chest pink from exertion, longer hairs tickling your collarbones as he haunches over you, “Daddy? Would you like to call me daddy?”

“Kyo-” 😭

Yk when yk what you should say, but you can’t seem to say it? 😬

Ofc that would occur at the least opportune moment 😃

“Sweetheart, there is nothing wrong with liking what you like!” lips grazing your throat, one palm pushing at your thigh, the other splayed on an overhead cabinet to steady himself, “If you want to call me daddy, then I am perfectly happy to be your daddy,” sucking lightly at your jaw, growling at the satisfying thud of your body against the countertop’s edge as he completes his thrust, balls sticky when they tap your skin

“Kyyyo-” 😭😭😭

“Call me daddy sweetheart, let daddy make you feel go-”

“So uh,” finally your dad sputters, “How about you guys text me when you’re finished?”

Kyojuro’s eyes = wider than saucers 😳

“I AM SO SORRY, I HAD NO IDEA.” <— 0.02 secs after your dad slams the front door shut

“That was hot,” you giggle breathlessly, shock still radiating, “Maybe I do have a daddy kink? You had me at a lost for words.” 😇

“Clearly!” he nearly whines, uncharacteristically bashful as he tucks his face into your shoulder, “I would have stopped immediately had I known!”

“I’m sorry, I short circuited.” 😅

“I hope he forgives us.” 😓

You snort, already recovering from the ordeal, “He’ll survive.” 😆

Pouting, Kyojuro clings to you, cock slowly softening in your pussy, “But I may not.” 🥺

“Oh hush,” you pat his head reassuringly, smiling as he nuzzles closer, “Let’s shower and get dressed. My poor dad’s patiently waiting.”

“Daddy!”

“Who’re you calling daddy?” Sanemi murmurs, body draped over you, grip warm and steady around your waist, your own hands clutching the edge of the sink, “Listen to your sloppy cunt, so pliant and needy, bent over in the bathroom like a cheap whore.”

“Sanemi,” you squeak, eyes glued to the retreating figure reflected in the mirror

“I asked you a question,” he growls roughly, nipping at the side of your neck, balls tapping your clit as his pace quickens, “Who’re you calling daddy? Who’s fucking your slutty hole? Who’s bringing you closer and closer to your climax?”

“Iwascallingmydad, daddy,” you blurt, diction hurried by the stretch and intensity of Sanemi’s thrusts

He shudders to a halt, dangerous stare meeting yours as he looks up into the mirror

“You WHAT?!!!”

You inhale deeply, enunciation precise and drawn out, “We invited my dad over for dinner. You got me horny. He let himself in… and then let promptly let himself out. We made eye contact in the mirror, I swear he nearly fainted, and I called him daddy because apparently that’s what I do when I panic!”

“Oh so this is MY fault?” 😒

“The fuck?” 😐

“That’s what I’m saying! You got me horny, bitch, you’re always horny! Sorry I enjoy pleasuring my woman!” 🙄

“Well don’t apologize for that!”

“Fine! I’m not sorry!” 😤

“So do I get to cum, or…?” 🙃

“You’re fucking weird. You still wanna cum? Now?”

“I mean dinner’s obviously off the table, so-”

“Fuck’s sake! Okay! I’ll make you cum!” 🤬

“Good!”

“Great! Better brace yourself princess,” Sanemi snarls, slipping his fingers between your legs to flick at your clit, “Because you’re my cocksleeve for tonight.”

—Don’t even ask 😃

—Porn isn’t realistic

—So why should my fanfiction be? 😂

“Daddy!”

#riperoni Tomioka Giyuu

“Uh huh baby, baby, fuck, f-fuck, FUCK,” he groans loudly, mouth parting slightly, couch pillow propping his head up to provide the perfect view of your perfect tits as you perfectly ride him

“GiyuuGiyuuGiyuu-”

Disclaimer: you’re panicking — not cumming 💀

#unlike someone #that someone being Giyuu

“Shit, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, eyes barely open, thumbs soft and greedy as they dig into your waist, satisfaction welling in his stomach as his cum fills you, warm and viscous, tip swollen and twitching, “Feels good, hm? When daddy cums in your gorgeous pussy?”

#riperoni Tomioka Giyuu x 1,398,742

You clear your throat, blinking awkwardly, “Dad, how about I call you in ten minutes?”

Indescribable dread flickers across Giyuu’s face

⚠️ESCAPE⚠️RETREAT⚠️WITHDRAW⚠️

But he can’t move 😭, bc he just came inside of you 😭, and apparently there’s an audience 😭

#talk about a mess #pun intended

“You do that honey!” *your dad frantically nods* “You do whatever you need to do!” *your dad frantically flees*

…

…

“Murder or suicide?” Giyuu asks quietly

“What?” 🧐

“One of us is a dead man,” he answers solemnly, “But I’ll let you decide who.”

*big sigh* “Neither you nor my dad has to die.”

“I disagree.” 😔

“Daddy!”

“The fuck?” 🤨 “Is your dad here?” 🤨 “Are you into that?” 🤨

The fact that Tengen hasn’t stopped thrusting does not help your ability to articulate 💀

“Well?” he grunts, biceps straining as he keeps you pinned to the wall, hands full of your ass, “Which one is it?”

“The fact that you don’t seem concerned in the slightest that it could be the second one is mildly concerning,” you mutter

Meanwhile, you’re frantically shooing your dad away, unable to do much more in your current ~position

“The fact that you only consider that mildly concerning is also concerning,” he retorts, “And quit fidgeting,” tongue licking along the curve of your jaw as he murmurs lowly, “Less wriggling, more cumming.”

The sound of the front door opening and closing barely registers to Tengen 😃

Is he that pussydrunk?

Nah

#he just doesn’t give af

#well

#sort of

“Tengen.”

“Hm?” he smirks, gaze glinting smugly at the feeling of your pussy sucking him in deeper, “You gonna cum for me?”

“You do know my dad was here?” breaking off to a whimper as his pubic bone grinds against your clit, “R-right?”

“I know,” he replies simply, fixated on your building orgasm, determinedly repeating his motions, spurred on by your ragged gasps and staccato moans, “I was certainly surprised,” tone amused and patient, “But I figured he’d leave as soon as he realized what he walked in on,” nonchalant as ever, “No point in ruining our pleasure for a brief interruption.”

—I’m not usually suuuper into Tengen, but damn 🤠😂

[awritesthings1]

Gone with the Leaves

Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife Reader

Summary: Despite your happy marriage to Tommy, you feel an undeniable jealousy towards Lizzie. Perhaps a day in the forest will do you some good.

ao3 link

A/N: I'm starting a tag list, comment if you want to be added :)

-

“You write like you’re running out of time,” mused Lizzie Stark, former prostitute, now Tommy’s secretary. “They have typewriters for those types of things, y’know?”

You saw the volley of cannonballs that launched and subsequently landed on Tommy’s desk as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t that you expected more of poor old plain Lizzie, but you thought that the time she had spent lying on her back staring past the shoulder of a customer at the ceiling would have taught her to read a room. Nevertheless, she stood there, quite amused with herself, smiling stupidly at your husband.

Tommy, who had been sitting at his desk all afternoon attending to letters, the ledger, and god knows what else, peered up from the paper. “What did you say?”

This time, it was your turn to be amused. He pointed accusingly at Lizzie, who by then had realised her impetuous mistake. Her wide eyes fluttered to you desperately, like a bee that had indulged itself in so much pollen that it became stuck in its own honey. No, that was putting it lightly. She looked to you like a frightened child who knew exactly what kind of trouble they were in.

You made sure you looked the other way.

“It was only a silly joke,” came her spluttering apology.

Tommy squinted, and his mouth curled into a frown. Smoke chased the deep exhale from the cigarette hanging between his lips. Your husband carried this terrifying look to him that many feared. Without the peaky cap to cover his striking blue eyes, you saw his glare cut away the cords in Lizzie’s throat with just one look. How could poor Lizzie defend herself from eyes that had witnessed nightmarish things?

“I’m not clear. Is it funny that I sign my letters by hand, or are you above using ink now that you have graduated from the bed to the desk?”

Lizzie’s mouth wormed into a thin line, yet she still looked to you for help. Of what help she thought you would possibly spare, you weren’t sure. For once, Lizzie used initiative and showed herself out.

Your heels clacked across the wooden threshold of your husband’s office. Now that no one was there to disturb you both, you sat down on Tommy’s lap. By then, he was leaning back on his chair, work abandoned for the time being until he could wash the sour sight of Lizzie Stark from his eyes.

“You know I don’t like her,” you said plainly.

There was no need for fake smiles or lies with Tommy. You knew him, and he knew you.

Tommy exhaled loudly, stubbing out the last of his cigarette on his ashtray and taking a swig of whiskey before his calloused hand found your waist.

He clears his throat. “It’s only business with her.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I like her any less.”

Tommy loved you, not Lizzie Stark, yet you couldn’t stomach the undeniable jealousy that arose with her presence. Perhaps it was a natural inclination women had toward their lovers. Lizzie had never done anything outwardly wrong to you. So, what was it then that turned your plain teeth into hissing fangs?

Everyone knew that Tommy was one of her paying customers before you met him, but so were all of Small Heath. You never felt insecure in your relationship with Tommy; there was no need to feel threatened by a prostitute. Yet that wouldn’t stop the catty feline that emerged from its slumber when Lizzie’s wandering eyes battered at your husband.

No. Lizzie Stark would never know what it felt like to be loved by a man like Tommy. What you held in your hands each night was a transcendental, unconditional type of love—one that surpassed the heart and soul, which drew two beings together in the most unconventional yet fitting way. The way that covers kept you warm at night, Tommy watched over your hearth and kept the fire burning, even if he were on the other side of the country.

You closed your eyes, leaning into the valley between Tommy’s neck and shoulder as you listened for the bah-dum-bah-dum of his heart. They sat together in silence, cherishing each other’s presence, while Tommy rested his cheek on your head. Outside, the world waited, barking at their front door and scratching at the delicately carved wood. Even the rain lashed at the windowpanes, playing together like one elemental orchestra.

The hand not resting on your waist rose to gently stroke up and down your arm. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.

“I think you have some work to attend to in the bedroom,” you mumbled into his neck.

Your nose searched for the spot where he applied his aftershave.

“Eh?” Came his gruff response.

Your hand wandered down his suit in answer.

-

The sheets were bundled around Tommy’s naked waist when you sauntered back over to the bed with his case of cigarettes in hand. Gratefully, he took the case from your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into the warmth of his chest. Then he began the usual routine. He fished out a cigarette to offer, but you shook your head no, so he slid it once, then twice, across his bottom lip. On the bedside table, he grabbed the half-empty matchbox to light the cigarette.

Tommy was the resident chain smoker in your house. With an appetite for tobacco and whiskey, you often wondered just how he sustained himself throughout the day. Of course, there were the home-cooked meals at Arrow House waiting for his return, although that didn’t stop you from worrying any less. It was pathetic, really, sitting all alone in his study, twiddling your fingers, and sitting beneath his portrait like you were praying to him. Tommy was no god, no matter how much he tried to convince everyone else. Yet whenever headlights passed the window and lit up the office momentarily, you would stand up and peer out, hoping to spot your husband exiting the car.

He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the present. You loved watching the way the cigarette shifted between his lips when he spoke, even more when his hooded eyes looked over at you. Tommy was a man of few words, simply because he didn’t need language to communicate. His body spoke for him in tongues for all his enemies to understand. And more importantly, in a way your body understood.

Your hand abandoned his tattoo to stroke a thumb across his full bottom lip. Lust swelled there, eager to chase the rest of the night away into a haze of pleasure until the sun rose. As tempting as it was, you sighed at the thought. You would rather spend this time taking in your husband, remembering the fine details across his face and body, from the scar in the hollow of his cheek to the rough texture beneath his shoulder blade where a bullet was once lodged. You wanted to trace the sockets of his eyes the way a blind person would, treasuring each valley, mountain, and cut of skin as if it were to disappear the second you stopped touching him.

“You’re beautiful,” you decided, bathed in candlelight, tangled up between the sheets and Tommy’s arms.

Tommy’s brows furrowed, and the cigarette hung dangerously loose from where his lips curled into a frown. He grunted, clearly dissatisfied with your words. Tommy wasn’t beautiful. He was hard, ambitious, and unmovable force.

Beautiful was a conventional word savored for the finest women. To you? It meant so much more. Crafted in a way that would cause people to stare, sure, but there was also a poetic sense to the word. The type of beauty you would use to describe a well-written novel or heart-wrenching poem. Thomas Shelby stood for something, and that was beautiful.

“Then what are you, eh?”

A lazy smile floated onto your face, so much so that you had to bite your lip to refrain from looking devastatingly pleased at his answer.

A woman, a dreamer, a friend, a reader, an achiever. “A wife.”

He huffed, raising his eyebrows playfully.

Why was it that most women felt like they could only fit the frame of one? With Tommy, you were never limited to the endless possibilities. You treasured being a wife the same way you treasured your other roles. Marriage wasn’t the end all be all. Perhaps that’s another lie men spun—that perfectly capable women stopped existing as soon as a diamond ring slid onto their finger. How sad, you thought, to waste away all that potential when men were still free to pursue stupid ideas like war and dog fights.

Tommy was unbothered by traditional ideas like that. Change powered his ambition; he had no time for parallel lines. You could be his wife, a writer, a singer, or a mother—whatever you wanted—and he wouldn’t think of you any less.

You hummed, chasing that cigarette from his lips and stubbing it out in the ash tray by his bedside table. Tommy didn’t seem too heartbroken about it. In fact, there was some mirth in his gaze. His hands traced up your naked spine, pulling your body further into his until you could smell the smoke in his breath.

“Yes,” he breathed in loudly through his nose, “my wife.”

-

The following day, you were invited to the Basnett's hunting party. You would’ve been more enthusiastic to write about your excitement to attend if the whole ordeal hadn’t been so troublesome. Because a few days prior, when you were visiting your husband’s office, you had caught sight of the letter on Lizzie’s desk, a letter that was supposed to reach you days earlier.

“What’s this?” You asked.

“Oh, nothing interesting,” Lizzie had said, too occupied with filing her nails while on the clock.

You kept your composure for the sake of keeping the peace. You didn’t wish to disturb Tommy if he were to walk by.

“This is a letter addressed to me,” you pressed.

“Oh.” She stopped for a moment, then leaned over to read the letter you had pulled from the messy pile. “No, it’s addressed to Tommy.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Shelby,” you hissed quietly, with emphasis on the missus.

“Hm, I didn’t notice.”

“You are paid to notice.” You fought the urge to comment that she was paid for other things not long ago. “How long has this been sitting here?”

Lizzie tapped her cigarette ash into the tray. “The post boy dropped that lot off yesterday.”

Even if it was only two days late to reach your hand, by society’s standards, that may have well been taken as you snubbing the invitation. Frustratingly, you had to cancel your plans that day and personally deliver your letter to the Basnett’s door, citing some excuse of it having been lost in the post.

“That woman is up to no good.” You said glumly that night into Tommy’s chest.

“I’ll speak to her,” he promised in that stoic tone of his.

Whether he had been true to his words, you weren’t sure because Lizzie made an effort to avoid you when possible.

“Oh! Mrs. Shelby! How wonderful for you to join us! Come in, come in. The men are readying their rifles for the hunt outside. How exciting!” Gushed Lady Basnett, shooing you into the atrium of her lavish mansion.

Your riding boots clacked across the floor before being muffled by an intricately woven rug. You stared up at the chandelier, childishly wondering if it would hit you if it were to fall at that moment.

“Right this way, Mrs. Shelby!” Lady Basnett ushered excitably.

You debated if all her energy was for show—to please her husband and be the good wife he expected of her. After she showed you through to the veranda and down to the circle of wives who had gathered under the trees while their husbands readied for the hunt, you decided that no, she must truly enjoy planning social occasions like this, as evidenced by the way she kissed Sarah’s cheek in greeting with a wide grin.

It pleased you to know that Lady Basnett found joy in something. Ever since her eldest died in the war, she has been known to be a bit of a recluse.

“Oh, what a beautiful ring! May we see it?” Doe-eyed Catherine asked.

She was one of the younger wives, like yourself. Catherine married an older man, twice her senior. Many of the wives here faulted her for it behind her back, but not you. You saw more of yourself in her than you did in any of the other women. Because, despite the age gap, the girl seemed to be utterly head-over-heels in love with a man society deemed old-fashioned for her. And how could you blame her when you swore an oath to a gangster of all people?

You obliged and let the wives twist and turn your hand to better inspect the diamonds on your ring finger.

“It’s perfect!”

“How many carats?”

“My Mary would be so jealous!”

After dutifully showing your wedding ring, you noticed the men beginning to mount their horses.

Catherine hooked her arm around yours. “Come on, we are going to be left behind!”

She jovially pulled you along the stone tiles at a speed that made you grateful for wearing riding boots. The backyard was grand in the sense that the acres they owned stretched vastly into the nearby forest. Although there were impressive features, like the hedge they had grown into a maze and the trees that were shaped into birds.

“Lady Basnett owned an aviary of budgies. Dear little things they were, she was devastated when they all escaped one night after the groundskeeper forgot to close the door,” Catherine commented, having noticed the way your head was turned.

You laughed, because you could precisely picture Lady Basnett as the type to fawn over little budgies.

Catherine led you to the horses, where some of the wives were already perched, waiting for the party to leave. None of them carried rifles, but rather wicker baskets strapped to the saddle for the picnic they planned to have at the top of the hill while they waited for their husbands to finish hunting.

Together, you set off, having mounted the back of Catherine’s mare. Deeper into the forest you went, the black mare trotting over loose dirt and rocks. Both of you remained at the end of the pack, preferring to keep to yourselves in light conversation.

Then it all happened so suddenly. One of the rifles went off up ahead, and a flock of birds rushed at you from the break in the foliage, startling your mare. You gasped in shock and reached for Catherine’s jacket to hold on, but only skimmed her. She went face first into the dirt while you were swept into the air like a leaf and fell with the grace of a rock. The ground thundered as the mare galloped into the distance.

“Fuck!” Catherine spat.

(On her fall she had taken a mouthful of soil and leaves.)

“They’ll come back,” you tried to reassure her.

-

Hours later, the two of you still had not been found.

“I was a prostitute before George found me, y’know.”

No, you didn’t know.

“That’s why I’m so young and he so old,” she smiled fondly, laughing as if it were the most normal thing.

You couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her because of her circumstances. She was your friend, and a true one at that.

What was it that Tommy said? The past is the past.

-

The sun began to set when one of the men from the hunting party found you both huddled together under a tree. Kindly, he let the two of you ride the rest of the way back despite your hesitance to mount another horse.

When you returned to Lady Basnett’s, with Catherine in arm, the sun had been set for at least two hours. You hadn’t realized what trouble you had gotten yourself into until you noticed Tommy’s Bentley parked in the crowded driveway of the mansion. Men stood at the gate, armed and waiting. Catherine opened her mouth to remark how ridiculous it was, but you kept your lips sealed after recognizing the guards to be Peaky Blinders.

Tommy had to be beside himself.

A young boy who was playing between the cars popped his head out when the gates squealed open. His ears perked up, and he ran inside, clutching his peaky cap, to probably inform the adults inside of your arrival. People pooled out onto the front steps, the women covering their hearts and sighing with relief, and the men holding their hats to their chests. But when your husband, Tommy, came storming out, they parted like the red sea.

He stalked across the gravel like a predator, his eyes trained on you with an unblinking stare.

“Are you hurt?” He ignored Catherine, cupping your face and frantically looking between both your eyes as if you would disappear.

Upon further inspection, his eyes were bloodshot, and the white sleeves of his blouse were bundled into the golden garters. Your hands itched to muse his disheveled hair into place, but with all the curious onlookers, you thought better of it.

“No.”

George, Catherine’s husband, was quick to whisk her away inside. You heard Lady Basnett’s voice trailing after them: “Oh my, what a terrible thing. Come now, let me pour you some tea.”

Unfortunately, tea wouldn’t make up for any lost ground with Tommy.

“We’re going.”

You knew better to open your mouth to disagree. This was Tommy being afraid and carrying on. He retreated into himself. It didn’t look pretty or like he cared, but he cared; you knew he cared. It was only that no one else was allowed to know that the great Thomas Shelby felt any emotion.

At Arrow House, he swallowed two glasses of whiskey before saying a word. You were pulling at the hem of the overcoat that Tommy had shook off his shoulders to give you for the ride home. Your fingers just couldn’t stand the anxious silence that rang throughout the room.

“What the fuck happened?”

He stood in front of you, stoic as a soldier but cracking around the exterior thanks to his hand, which itched for the cigarette case inside his pocket. (A nervous tick of his.) You grab his hand between your own before he can fish out the case.

“The horse got spooked. It bucked Catherine and me off, but we’re fine.”

His thumb rubs across your knuckles as he looks past your shoulder out the window.

“Do you know where I was when I got the call? Eh? I was handling some business when Lizzie came in and told me some posh old woman was on the line, saying you were missing.”

He exhaled sharply, dropping his gaze to you, where you noticed his eyes soften.

“I thought…” He broke off.

His chin dropped, and he went to itch his nose with his other hand.

“What did you think happened? Is there something I should know about?” Concern leaked into your voice.

“No,” he huffed, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, and you’re safe.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything that might push him over the edge. He was fragile in a state like this in the sense that he pushed the stronger, more vivid feelings to the side because you were his wife, not a Peaky Blinder. No, you would never be, even though you married one.

Often, you would wish you could turn into the leaves that swept off the pavement and into the air. Imagine then how much easier life would be for you both—to forget the animosity of life and rise above it all, breathe in that crystal air, and then finally exclaim the truth because up there no one could hear them or cared enough to try anyway.

Cautiously, you let go of his hand and traced your fingertips up to knead away the tension in his jaw.

“Thomas… Do you remember what you asked of me? To help you with the whole fucking thing—”

“From now on—”

“Thomas—”

“From now on, let me know where you are going. I will organize a guard to watch over you.”

‘You write like you’re running out of time,’ Lizzie’s poorly placed joke from the start of the week reverberated in your skull.

Was he?

“I need you,” he breathed, the smell of whiskey fanning over your senses.

You nodded, pressing up on your toes to kiss him. A soft breath escaped him when you pulled away.

“You have me.”

[bubblebaththoughts]

Aphrodisiacs

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikayan!Reader

kinkmas masterlist

warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon for both parties, drug-like state, rough p in v, both uncontrollably horny, pre-established friendship, Neteyam and Reader are pining eachother but neither can make a move untilllll…

translations:

Syulang - flower

txe’lan - heart

tanhi - bioluminescent freckles

kuru - neural queue

“Keep up!” You yelled back to him

“I’m trying! Damn it!” Neteyam called up to you “Just, just wait for me!”

“I always wait for you Neteyam- Ah!” You scream, tripping onto the ground

As you fall out of Neteyam’s line of sight, panic courses through his veins.

“Syulang! Are you alright?” He called out as his pace sped up to find you

“Neteyam!” You call back “I- Something- happened!”

Neteyam approached you carefully, peering over silently.

You laid there on the ground, a pink dust covering your chest, along with a heavy sweat.

“Are you alright, Syulang?” He asked, towering over your body

“Mmm… Teyam, it hurts…” You whine, trying to reach for him

Neteyem drops to his knees by your side. “What hurts? Tell me what happened, it’s alright.”

“Something, poofed, in my face.” You tried to explain as you uncomfortably tried to also sit up

“Poof?” He reaches down, helping you sit up

Suddenly, he knew what you meant.

Poof.

He was suddenly in a pinkish-lavender haze as you invaded all of his senses.

“Uh- Um, where did you say it hurt, Syulang?” He asked, trying to compose himself

“Mmm.” You take him by the hand, guiding it to your chest. “txe’lan…”

Then you bring his hand lower, to your lower stomach. “Here feels empty…”

Empty… unfulfilled… yearning.

“Eywa help me.” He whispered a silent prayer as the drug-like-dust engulfed his mind

You didn’t remember who initiated it… you didn’t even really care. And neither did he.

It seemed that all you cared about right now was begging Neteyam to go deeper.

It was like a constant instruction in Neteyam’s mind: “In and out. In and out.”

He couldn’t even begin to count how many times you both had cum.

Like right now for example.

Your teeth were sunk into his shoulder as you tried to hold in a scream, and he was uncontrollably rutting into you like an animal.

He felt like an animal, but he couldn’t help himself, the feral feeling of needing to be inside of you overcame him.

He felt like he was being burned every time he would even try to pull away from you.

You clung to him desperately as you were just as deep into it as he was.

You might have been worse, you got the brunt of it.

It was like you never stopped whining, never stopped whining for him, or his cock, his tongue, his fingers, him.

All that you were able to think about was how good it felt for him to be thrusting into your right now.

No matter how many times either of you had cum, it was never ending, never enough. Neither of you could be satisfied.

It was unlike any rut or heat either of you had ever experienced.

More like you had both been hypnotized and this was the only thing stopping the both of you from actually going crazy.

“Ah- Uh! Fuck!” Neteyam called to you as he thrusted one more time, spilling into you for the umpteenth time today.

It was dark now, but the bioluminescent plants lit up the clearing.

You two lit up the clearing, your tanhi glowing brighter than ever.

Knowing Neteyam since birth, you saw a lot of him, all the time. You had memorized the pattern of his tanhi, how many there were on him, and where he glowed the brightest.

He nestled his head into your neck as he pulled out, making you whine for him. He peppered kisses on your neck while reassuring you that it was okay.

Neteyam slunk down in between your spread legs, watching as his load poured out of your pussy.

“So pretty.” He smiled up at you, making you whine

“Neteyam, it hurts.”

His hand gently squeezed your thigh, to let you know that everything was alright.

You can feel his breath against your clit, and you gasp in pleasure as his tongue circles around it. He licks and suckles, and you can feel the pleasure radiating from your core.

He moves lower, and you feel his tongue slide inside of you. He teases and teases until you can feel yourself close to cumming. He moves his tongue up and down, forcing you to get closer and closer.

And then, you feel his fingers slide up and find that spot inside of you. He moves his tongue and fingers in a rhythm, and you can feel yourself trembling with pleasure as you come. He continues to move his tongue and fingers until your orgasm fades away, and he slides his fingers out of you.

You feel his lips press against your neck, and you can feel his breath against your skin. You can feel his warmth radiating through you as he holds you close.

You push him on his back, sitting up to straddle him.

Immediately, you sink his throbbing cock back inside of you, a guttural moan escaping your lips.

Everything felt raw, like a throbbing open nerve.

“I wanna- I wanna.” He whines up at you

“What? What do you want?” You whine back as you ease down on him

“Want you.” He growled “Mine.”

He leaned up, holding you by the throat and roughly thrusted into you.

He worked his hips hard against your ass as he speared his cock deep inside of you. You relax against him, letting him completely take over.

“Want you to be just mine.” He whispered to you “All mine.”

You whimpered as you felt his hand tug on your kuru. “I want to- ah! I want to be yours Teyam.”

“For life.” He clarifies “As my mate.” He grunts as he continues to thrust into you

“Teyam!” You cried, completely falling apart in his arms, becoming similar to a rag-doll as he fucks you senseless

“How do you feel about that Syulang?” He whispered to you, “Mine forever?”

“Please Neteyam! Wanna be yours!” You cry

He smiles, pulling you against him tightly. One more thrust and he’s done for, spilling inside of you once again today.

The intense burn for you never stopped, his stilled inside of you, pulling you impossibly closer and holding onto you for dear life.

“Wanna make the bond.” He whispered to you quietly

“Tsaheylu?” You whimpered

“Mhm.” He moaned in your ear

“Please!” Your voice breaks him, it cracks as you cry out to him, begging him to make the bond.

His hand gently takes yours, letting the thick braid run over his fingers before he brought it up to your face.

The small tendrils dance around, a shiver runs down your back as you watch it.

Neteyam uses his free hand to grab his own Kuru, bringing it close to yours.

The sight was similar to watching magnets. Both of your queues had a magnetic pull to each other.

You bring your own hand up, and you gently ease your finger over the tendrils on his, making him gasp as they grip onto your finger

“Ah- Ah! Syulang! Mmm!” He moaned out as you played with his most sensitive part

You pull your finger away gently to relieve him.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He emphasized the “You.”, a worried look on his face, “Because I- I’m completely sure about you, you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“All I’ve ever needed was you, Neteyam.” Your bright eyes shined up at him

Neteyam smiled down at you, his eyes now shining as well.

You took a breath before continuing, “I… I see you, Neteyam.”

“I see you.” He beamed at you, “I love you, so much.”

“I love you too.” You gushed

Slowly, he began to bring both queues together. And suddenly, the emptiness feeling you’ve felt since being sprayed in the face by that plant, was gone. Completely filled by Neteyam.

A moment of complete comfort. Complete clarity. Like this was meant to be. Written in the stars. Designed by Eywa.

“I see you!” You cried out to him again

“I see you, my love. I see you.” He embraced you, holding you impossibly closer. “I am with you forever.”

You lean up, kissing his lips passionately.

Neteyam takes care of you in the most tender and loving way. He wraps you up in his embrace, holding you close until the aftershocks of pleasure have faded away. He kisses your forehead and tells you how beautiful and special you are to him. He makes sure you are comfortable and taken care of, and that all of your needs are met.

Gently, he finally pulls out of you, coming down from the intense high of the pink dust. He soothes you with quiet praises, telling you how good you were for him, and that he was so proud of you.

You can feel the love radiating from your lover, and you know that you are safe and cherished in his arms. His touch is gentle and caring, and it's exactly what you need after a day of constant passionate sex. With just his touch, you can feel the bond between you growing even stronger.

taglist: @danniackerman @loaksslut