#mostly female reader

[artsy-trash-panda]

Exophilia fic recs

Beware 18+ works below

@momolady / @momosmonsters

Some of my faves

Werewolves : Beau | Big Billy

Orcs : Ozren 1 ; 2 ; 3 | Uram | Maim | Rube 1 ; 2 ; 3 | Mr Vladik | Roald 1 ; 2 ; 3 | Rogan 1 ; 2

Others : Mask the slasher

Minotaurs : Codras 1 ; 2 ; 3 | Brifsteinn 1 ; 2 | Mac | Deo

@thetravelerwrites masterlist

Rantha | Declan | Thandur | Feera

Ravadhi | Varik

@monstersandmaw / @monstersandmawarchive masterlist one and two

Khuruz | Brenn | Kelyn | Lasza | Curran & Nil | Thur'khul |

@snowkissedmonsters masterlist

Obsidian and kitty | Úlla and Hawthorne

[rafey-baby]

clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

18+ mdni!

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.  

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?  

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.   

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.  

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.  

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head. 

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.  

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists. 

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.  

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.  

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.  

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.  

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.  

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with. 

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.  

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.  

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms. 

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.  

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.  

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.  

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.  

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him. 

“You, uh, you got one?”  

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion. 

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.  

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives. 

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.  

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class. 

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.   

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.  

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.  

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.  

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff. 

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.  

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.  

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).  

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.  

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes. 

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.  

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.  

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can. 

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.  

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.  

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.  

Her head is spinning.  

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.  

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

💖✨ Just a yandere woman CEO obsessed with her adorable assistant <3 ✨💖

[⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: Not proofread I just wanted to post something because I miss you guys :3, LESBIANS this is a woman loving woman fic! Reader is portrayed as a female, 🔞 gets a little raunchy 18+ near the end with some kissing and touching but you don’t go too far, yandere, some talk of an affair but not regarding Reader or our lovely Ms. CEO]

Imagine an incredibly strict older woman who has learned to leave love and men in the past. She’s been running this company all on her own for several years now, it’s her life’s work and her pride and joy. She’s married to her work since she wouldn’t want to be married to anything else at the moment. Men only disappoint, so what's the point of even trying to form a relationship with one. After all, she's so well known now that anyone who is trying to form bonds with her now is after her fortune or her estate. A waste of time.

Then, she met you.

You came to her agency one afternoon for a meeting of your boss' company and hers, something about collaborating together to build up the value of both of your stocks. Whatever, it wasn't like she needed extra cash in her pocket, but she was willing to listen if he proved to be entertaining.

Though she wasn't really looking forward to creating a partnership with the obviously money-hungry man, her eyes widened when he brought you into the room after their introductions. You were his assistant at the time, and he made sure to get good use out of you. She could tell he ran you ragged from hell and back. You slouched a little and you looked quite uncomfortable in the scarlet red stiletto heels he no doubt required you to wear. However, through the exhaustion, she could see your bright eyes, gorgeous smile, and beauty beyond it all. It was more than beauty though. She felt like she'd seen you before in a dream, like she's known you for a lifetime and more. You're so familiar, yet she knowns she's never met you before.

Despicable. To force such a stunning woman such as yourself run ragged around the town. She could provide so much better for you, she would make you see that.

During the meeting all she could do was stare at you. How you fixed your hair back out of your face as you wrote notes on your laptop, how you answered you boss' questions with hesitancy and a sort of weak tone. She wanted to snap his head off when he barked at you to speak up and "show some respect for your employer". Yet he acted like the perfect, charming gentleman towards herself. She couldn't take this anymore. She called a 15 minute break and said she needed a moment to think over his "compelling" proposition.

As you walked off, she discreetly trailed behind. You headed to the restroom and she made a point to hang outside by the communal coffeemaker. When you came out, she came up to you with a Styrofoam cup and a gentle smile. Just seeing the way your pretty eyes brighten up at the kind gesture made her heart soar, and the shiver that raced down her spin when your fingers brushed against her made her feel electric.

You two chatted for the remainder of the break, and she strategically dropped the question over you and your boss' situation. She provided her shoulder to cry on as you lamented your woes over you boss, how he's...nice yeah right but he can be a little tough at times. The position pays well enough and it's nice to not have to work in the hot sun all day as your income, but it would be nice to not have to run around the town and retrieve miniscule things as his little lap dog all the time.

She simply slipped you a her card and gave you wink (you couldn't help but notice there was a strange, darker look in her eyes as she scanned you up and down) and told you to stop by whenever you felt the urge, but to look at the back of the card when you head out. As she walked off to go deny that selfish bastard's shit of an idea, you looked down at the card. On paper was a date and time for two days from now right below her name and the address of her agency.

~~~

It had been three months since that fateful day and she couldn't be happier.

She held a private meeting, just the two of you she can't wait to start calling these meetings a date, those two days later. She offered you a position as her personal assistant at her company instead of your current employer. When you thought of declining, she passed a piece of paper over to you that read a number with more zeros than you could process. She said this is what you would make a year with full benefits and plenty of opportunity for growth as it would be the base amount you'd make. It was easily triple your current salary.

With little hesitation, you put in your two weeks with your company, and with a swift call on from her side, you never had to go back to that company to fulfill those two weeks. She said he owed her a favor of some kind and he would repay it through letting you be free she actually found juicy blackmail material of him and one of his employees for a scandalous affair against his wife, but she would never tell you that.

In no time, you begun being her little pet. The job was great at first; she treated you with great respect, patience, and the tasks she gave you weren't even that difficult. It was like a dream come true. Then, it begun to change.

Suddenly, she enforced a dress code policy that felt like it only applied to you. It was mandatory for "all women or female presenting" read just for you workers in her establishment to done pencil skirts, sleek high heels, and a blazer that cut down deep into the cleavage. Don't worry about not meeting the dress code, she'll help you out! When you explained you didn't have many clothes of this variety in your closet, she quickly cleared her day and went on a shopping spree with you. Luxury brands, private fitting rooms, tailors and seamstresses all around took your measurements and were sent off to construct a dozen and more outfits for you to wear in the office. All the while, Ms. CEO sat and watched you model the attire. If the skirt wasn't short enough, she'd direct them to hem a few inches higher. If the cut wasn't deep enough on the blazer, she'd come in close and open the blazer to her desired bust viewing. You couldn't help but heat up tremendously as she worked her way around you, staring at your everything, and touching what felt like all of your intimate parts.

After that was done, she took you to a decadent lunch at a high class restaurant where the waiters and chefs seemingly all knew her by first name. She finished her small portion rather quickly, but she made a point to move her chair next to yours and chat beside you. You felt uncomfortable with her being so close and not eating, but she insisted you continue your food, saying she liked to watch you eat as the expressions you made at the exquisite food filled her more than any other meal could. She kept it to herself that it was mostly because it fueled her desire to know that she could provide for you. To feed you and clothe you. It was paradise to finally have someone to spoil.

At the end of the day, she took you back to your home in her private limo with her driver at the helm. She walked you to your front door, thanked you for indulging her and for such a wonderful day, and bid you a good night. She kissed the back of your hand, leaving behind a bloody red mark of a lipstick kiss as she marked you as hers. Her cute little assistant. She couldn't wait to make you her wife, and that joy carried her home the entire drive home.

~~~

One last idea: Our lovely Ms. CEO needs to attend a super ritzy, widely news pressed, gala of some sort, but she needs a partner to go with her! Everyone else is bringing a date, she'd be mortified she's could care less what the press thinks to be sent alone for the seventh year in a row.

So, she asks you to go with her as her sexy arm candy date. You reluctantly agree since you're just that nice and would hate her to feel humiliated going alone. :((

She's got you right where she wants you, darling~

So, you two go. She picks you up the day before, takes you to get a custom dress made personally for you. Skimpy and tight for her to eye fuck you and devour you all night, but still classy enough that you'll be the most elegant person attending.

You two walk in with the interviewers dotted around going nuts for her showing up with a date this year. You flush and make a point to clarify you aren't dating, but she pulls you along with a scoff at the newscasters.

She pulls you inside, and you two mingle, you never being allowed to stray from her side. She takes you over to the fancy bar, and loads you up with drink after drink, saying she wants you to enjoy the evening and have fun. However, with every drink she pushes on you, you realize too late that she's hardly even nursed the first drink she got an hour ago. You feel light headed and are no doubt way past tipsy.

She pulls you off with a grin, coddling you and holding your face, asking if you were alright in a babying tone. After meekly nodding your head, she yanks you over to the dance floor. She pulls you in close, and since she's at least a head taller than you, she makes sure that you rest your head on her breast. She sways you back and forth on your wobbling knees and you feel hot. You can feel every part of her body smooshed up against yours.

You whine at her hand gripping your hips as they drift lower to your thighs and ass. She whispers sweet nothings in your ears, pressing her red lipstick-covered lips against your ear when she nibbles.

You can't stop her as she pulls you away from the crowd and back to her limo. Once inside, she's kissing you senseless and maneuvering one of her hands to keep you shoved deep into her open-mouthed kiss. All you can acknowledge is her tongue stroking yours in a sensual curl and her other hand shimmying up the deep slit in your fancy dress to dance her fingers around your cute white panties.

You're starting to wonder if the money is really worth it anymore.

Can you guys tell I have no idea how big companies or money work? Lol, no, this was in no way, shape, or form meant to be a realistic view of how CEOs or big companies run. I just want a sexy dominate woman to adore me obsessively, pay for my wants and my desire for pretty dresses, and screw me senseless til I see stars.

Teehee~! ✨💖

Love,

Kraken 🐙

[mostly-marvel-musings]

The suit stays on

A/N: What? How’d this happen? I don’t even know. But it did. Here it is. I am back in the Jackman-verse now, voluntarily and irrevocably. I want to thank @stark-ironman for all the thirst trap pictures and encouragement 🩵 Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story!

Pairing: Hugh Jackman x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ smut. Minors DNI.

Main Masterlist

.

“Oh no, the suit stays on.”

You had whispered against his ear when he was about to strip; you were at the end of your tether watching him strut his stuff for hours wearing that criminal outfit.

The ache between your legs had got to a point where you’d lost the ability to think straight. It wasn’t like your needs weren’t satiated mere hours ago, wasn’t like you were deprived of that gorgeous body that could only have been chiseled by the Gods, no.

You were well aware of how greedy you were being, but all your sense of rationality had found its way out the door when you’d seen your man walk out in the suit. The little salt and pepper bristle only added his sex appeal, making for additional friction each time it brushed against the most sensitive parts of you.

“Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” He had grunted, wrapping a hand around your throat with enough pressure that it walked a thin line between pleasure and pain. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Only when it comes to you.” You choked, smirking as you were rewarded with everything you had hoped for.

His cock travelled to the deepest parts of you, brushing the very spot that had you seeing stars as your walls clenched around him. Lust travelled over your skin leaving trails of goose-pimples while he impaled you, stoking the fire that burned deep within your core.

You wanted the man. No. You craved him. In every way. How was one ever supposed to get enough of Hugh Jackman?

You certainly weren’t opposed when he pulled out all of a sudden, only to bend you over the nearest desk, uncaring about the mess you’d already made. A primal grunt resounded off the thin walls as he entered your sopping heat again, not holding back at all this time.

With every thrust, you gripped the edge of the table tighter until your knuckles turned white, your climax approaching quick as you felt your thighs begin to twitch involuntarily.

“I—I’m so close—” you whimpered, revelling in the way his hips snapped against yours in an urgency you both felt.

“I know. Be a good girl and come all over this cock.”

Like the most obedient of students, your body willingly obliged to his command, making the coil inside your belly snap into smithereens. Your orgasm crashed over you like a violent wave, making your walls flutter as you cried out his name.

Reality was a mere distant thought as you allowed yourself to float on a cloud of ecstasy, your heart beating erratically against your ribcage and throbbing down there. You faintly registered his cum spilling on your lower back as he climaxed, making the most sinful noises that were music to your ears.

Cleaning up consisted mostly of lazy kisses and a crafty grin that refused to leave your lips. You had gotten your way again and you both knew it would continue in the future.

What do we think? It’s my first time writing for this man. (Will it be the last? Idk yet) ALSO I CAN’T WITH THIS LOOK 🫠

[pettyprocrastination]

The Revenant Wife

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of grief and death. 

Summary: Ellie knows very little of Joel and even less of the wife he had before the outbreak. When she finally meets you, its just as much as shock to her as it is to your husband. 

Word count: 1.6k

Note: ficlet is based off of this previous post about Joel getting separated from his wife during the outbreak and assuming you died until you find one another years later. Reader is described to look like Sarah. Title came from the ever lovely @djarin-junk​ <3

Tagging those I think would enjoy: @pedrostories​ @thesadvampire​ @joel-mlller @softanon​ @max--phillips​ @captainsamwlsn​ @hooplahoopla​ @moondirti​ 

-------------------------------

Ellie didn’t know that Joel had a wife. 

Granted, she didn’t know much about his old life at all. 

She knew he built things. That he had a brother named Tommy and a daughter named Sarah, but didn’t like to talk about the latter that much. In one fleeting conversation, full of mumbles as her eyes began to close while they rested under the night sky she heard him mention you but was far too gone to truly hear what he said. Nothing more than the vague rumble of his voice saying “my wife” before her eyes opened once more. 

“You’re married?”

She asks with such incredulous shock it sounds more like “somebody married you?” but girls at her age hardly ever have filters. 

“I was.” 

There’s the same bristle in his throat and far off look in his eyes as when she first asked about his daughter. An open answer but one that carries enough unsaid to tell Ellie of your fate. To warn her that she should change the subject or simply shut her mouth and go to sleep before plucking his raw nerve one too many times until he snaps- 

“What was she like?” 

But Joel learned early on that Ellie wasn’t one to follow warnings. 

“Kind.” His breath stutters. “But not a pushover- she didn’t take shit from anybody.” He stares up at the sky, feeling his chest grow tight and fingers twitch by his side until there’s a rustling, the girl next to him rolling over to face him and he turns to find Ellie peeking out from her sleeping bag with a smile. 

Damn this girl. 

“Not even from you?” 

Joel scoffs. “Especially from me. The amount of times she gave me and Tommy and earful-” he shakes his head, Ellie watches a smile grow on his face in silence, as if worried she may frighten it away. 

“Did she cook?” 

Ellie thinks of the stories the older kids would tell her. The ones who remembered life before the Outbreak, who told her of freshly baked pies on weekend and fluffy pancakes in the morning. 

Joel remembers the first time you tried to bake him a cake for his birthday back when he was sixteen. How he opened the door to your forlorn face and a store bought sheet cake in your hands because as your mother told him over the phone, you damn near burned the whole house down trying to bake for him as a surprise. 

“From time to time.” 

There was only so much she could get out of him before his voice became clipped and eyes full of an emotion she didn’t quite know the name of that he told her to get some rest. Leaving her with nothing to do but to stare at the sky and wonder about these stories in the shape of a woman who unveiled a little bit more about the mysterious man she traveled with. 

Of all the silence and secrets that made up the man that protected her, she created stories to fill them. Stories of Joel Miller, husband, father, brother and badass contractor that everybody loved.   Of his soldier brother, of his wife and their smiling daughter between them both. 

In Ellie’s mind, you didn’t work. 

But not in a ditzy lame way like some boring housewife. But just because you didn’t have to. 

Joel said that everybody loved contractors so that means he probably got paid like, a ton of money to build stuff for people so you got to stay at home all day. Ellie imagined your house to be ginormous. Maybe Joel made it himself for you when you guys first got married. It was big enough that when Joel came home everyday he’d call out your name and it’d echo through  the hall as you called him into the kitchen, where your daughter sat reading as you set dinner on the table. Sometimes you’d get upset if he came home late but then he’d kiss your cheek and you would roll your eyes but smile before you all sat down and ate as a family. 

Ellie imagines Joel’s daughter, she wonders if Sarah looks more like her mother than her father. 

Ellie wonders as the sleep takes over her body, if they could have been friends. 

When it happens, months later after she’s come to think of Joel as something akin to family and he thinks of her as something he can’t say out loud just yet, she’s shocked. She’s face to face with a woman holding her at gunpoint that looks nothing like the smiling mother she dreamt of during cold nights. 

You don’t match the stories Ellie made up in your head.

You’re mean. 

No. Mean isn’t the right word. 

Cold. Yes. you're very cold. 

Ellie watches in shock as you ask where they're headed, gun focused on the center of her chest while the two boys at your side point their own at Joel, who has yet to speak. 

She waits for him to answer, but he just stares at you in awe. The same man she’s seen kill and threaten to keep her safe day in and day out is rendered speechless until all he can do is utter your name and she realizes that he knows you. More than that, judging by the way he surrenders his gun to you with no fight, something she had never seen him do. 

You lift your head to look at him, the brim of your hat raises just enough to clear the shadow cast over your face and Ellie can finally see your eyes and the snarl on your face. 

You’re also very pretty.

“I won’t ask again.” 

The two boys standing on either side of you have your eyes. Same color and intensity, narrowed into slits like guard dogs waiting for an order and Ellie sees the way Joel stares at them. 

She wonders if Sarah had brothers. 

“Out west.” He manages. “Takin’ her to her family.” 

Your eyes move to her and she holds her hands higher in the air. 

“That true?” “What?” 

“Is he telling the truth?” 

The taller one, Duke, she had heard you call him, had already ripped the bag from her back and emptied its contents onto the ground, she had nothing else to hide from you. 

But then she sees something in your eyes. A concern for her that she hadn’t seen since Tess or Marlene. 

And she understands. 

“He’s telling the truth.” Ellie forces out. 

You watch her for a moment and there’s a moment of panic where she thinks you can see right through her lie. 

But then you lower your gun and jerk your head over your shoulder. 

“C’mon.” is all you say before you begin to walk away. The boys gawk at you for a moment before you give them a look of warning and they follow in your step, occasionally casting glances behind them at Joel and Ellie who follow suit. 

She’s quick to grab onto the sleeve of Joel’s jacket and pull with a harsh whisper as the other’s march forward. 

“You know this psycho?” 

Joel flinches at her voice as it pitches up. If any of you heard her, which he gathered you did because Ellie didn’t have an inside voice to save her fucking life, you didn’t care enough to react. 

Ellie whispers his name again. Insistent and angry for answers but he just keeps looking forward. He can’t take his eyes off of you or the boys ahead and it fills her with worry but she doesn’t know why. 

“She’s my wife.”

You lead them to a cottage. Its paint is chipping and the fence is reinforced with wiring around the perimeter but it looks like a home. She can vaguely hear the soft clucking of chickens nearby and there's a flash of fur behind the fence with a pair of pointed ears that duck away just as fast as she saw them. 

Ellie has seen the remnants of homes before the outbreak. The plates still stacked in the sink and the jacket still hung up on the hook. A story telling a family that once lived within its walls and is now nothing more than memories that ghosts along its foundation. 

But this one is real. It’s yours. 

 There is a rickety wooden table in the dining room. Each chair around it seems to have been brought from a different house and is varying shades of faded brown. You kick the leg of one and nod toward it.“Sit, both of you.”

Ellie looks to Joel before sitting. He follows suit, choosing the chair closest to her. 

“I’m gonna get some bandages for that leg-” 

Joel shifts forward. “I don’t need-” 

“I wasn’t fucking asking, Joel.” 

You’re not stronger than Joel, if she had to guess. You both look the same age, but she’s seen his strength, his violence, all done for her safety and knows if it came down to it, you might not win in a fight against him. 

But at your order, he sits back in his chair. 

You turn and set a shoulder on your son’s shoulder. 

At least. She thinks he’s your son. 

Softly spoken words are exchanged while the other keeps his eyes on Joel and his hand on his holster. The boy says something back in insistence, but you tilt your head and he nods. 

“If either of them try moving or taking anything.” You offer them one final look over your shoulder before slipping out of the room. “Shoot them.” 

They listen to your footsteps slowly retreat until there’s nothing but the subtle creak and groan of the wood floor beneath them. Ellie leans forward to look at Joel, setting her hands firmly on the dinner table in announcement. 

“Dude-” The young girl breathes out. “Your wife is a bitch.”

[highdefhoetry]

tags: nsfw!! female reader, four armed sukuna, kidnapping/stockholm syndrome, cnc, rough sex, penetration (penis in vagina), giant cock, primal, choking, fingering, hand kink (finger sucking), possessiveness, toxic dynamic, ownership/controlling, hair pulling, marking, squirting, aftercare

Boyfriend!Sukuna

The relationship between you and Sukuna was always a bit off. 

When you first crossed paths with the King of Curses, you froze in fear when you caught him staring at you with intense, ravenous eyes, like those of a rabid wolf sizing up its prey. He grinned at you with malice and desire, licked his lips before approaching. You could tell he was itching to sink his teeth into your skin, to taste your flesh and eat you up until there was nothing left, that he was barely containing the primal energy that threatened to burst out of his body. You thought you were going to die, accepted your fate knowing there was nothing you could have done to stop him.

But he didn’t.

“You’re coming with me,” he growled before picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing before carrying you back to his home.

You've been together ever since.

There was something about you that piqued his interest. You never knew quite what it was, nor did you dare to ask. But he made it clear from the beginning that you belonged to him, and him alone.

At first, he treated you more like a pet than a person. He’d snap his fingers or whistle at you, call you “woman” or “girl” instead of your name. He demanded your attention at all times, barking orders at you like an owner to a dog. And you always obeyed, fearing the consequences of angering him.

After a while, you grew on him, and he grew on you. Despite his reputation as a man-eating monster, you discovered that there was a heart buried deep down in the graveyard of his chest, one that you alone had unearthed. 

There was a quiet loneliness within him that went unspoken. You could tell by his deep sighs and tendency to self-isolate that there was a lot of pain hidden in that rotting heart of his. 

He much preferred to be the listener. To your surprise, he’d often ask what was on your mind, what thoughts ran through that pretty head of yours. And you were always honest. He’d listen intently, not saying a word until you were finished. 

You thought he’d make fun of you, insult your intelligence or liken you to an insect like he did with other weak humans. But he never did.

Instead, he’d threaten to kill whoever hurt your feelings, suggesting the most violent and gory methods possible. You always politely declined, but it made you smile. That was his twisted way of showing that he cared for you.

Slowly but surely, he opened up little by little, sharing the evil thoughts that crossed his mind and the silent battles he fought alone. You listened to his woes, understanding him more and more now that you had a glimpse into his world.

He never officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you accepted him nonetheless. You knew you could never leave him, anyway.

The first night you slept in the same bed, you thought he’d take you. You held your breath, prepared to be ravaged by this giant, impossibly strong man who could break your spine in half if he willed it. 

But it never happened. 

He simply laid down next to you, wrapped his four arms around your waist, buried his face into your bare back, and fell asleep.

The two of you stayed like that until morning. 

And as each day passed, he grew more and more attached.

He wanted you beside him always. You slept together, bathed together, even went to the bathroom together. Your moments of privacy dwindled the longer you were with him. He owned you in every sense of the term. He owned your time. He owned your body. He owned your mind.

And he made sure everyone knew. He kept at least two of his four hands on you at all times, unless he could keep all four on your soft, delicate body. One on your thigh. Another wrapped around your waist. Sometimes resting the palm of his hand on the back of your neck, squeezing it tightly to force you to stay in place. Other times he’d pull you into his lap, where you could feel his immense cock harden against your ass.

His cock was truly immense, by the way. Probably the biggest you’d ever seen in your life. But you’d discover that for yourself soon enough.

Sukuna wasn’t one for pillow talk or sweet nothings. But he made up for that silence with his touch.

He was rough the first few times you fucked, grabbing fistfuls of your hair and pulling it back as he pumped his thick cock deep into you. He liked how it made you arch your back, the sound of your high-pitched cry, the fluttered moans that escaped your lips as he railed you until tears leaked from your eyes. 

He also enjoyed admiring the marks and bruises he left on your skin afterwards. He’d trace his fingers along the black and blue patterns, grinning maliciously whenever you flinched.

But there were times when he was soft, too. They were rare and fleeting, but cherished by you nonetheless. 

Sometimes he’d take a handful of your hair and caress it softly, scratch your scalp with his long nails before putting a hand on the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. He’d press his lips against yours, pinch your cheeks so you’d open your mouth more, kissing you like it was the last time he’d ever see you, every time.

He’d lay you down flat on your back, thrust into you in a slow and rhythmic pattern while gazing deeply into your eyes. In those moments, you felt more connected to him than ever.

He’d kiss down your neck, onto your chest, gently biting your nipples before dragging his lips down your stomach. No skin was left untouched, no nerve ending showed mercy. 

Being with a man who had four arms meant being constantly overstimulated. One hand would be fingering your hole, curling it upwards to make you squirt and cum over and over again until you felt like you’d go insane. Another would be wrapped around your neck, restricting your blood vessels and making you feel lightheaded. Another would be delicately stroking your hips and thighs, relishing in the way your skin quivered beneath it. The last hand he’d shove in your mouth, forcing you to suck his fingers as he watched with sadistic glee.

Once he was satisfied, he’d finally let up, giving you a moment of respite to catch your breath and regain your sanity. But only for a moment. That was often just the warm-up; he needed to be inside you, to feel your tight walls clench around his 12 inch cock until he came. 

Every time you’d beg him, tell him he was too big, you couldn’t take it, it wouldn't fit. 

He’d simply laugh and say, “Yes you can. I’ll make it fit.”

Despite being soaking wet, his dick was still a lot to take in. He’d push it inside, smirk when you cried out, then immediately start pumping in and out.

And god, it felt so fucking good.

You were full of his cock, moaning and screaming with every thrust while he grunted and snarled like an animal.

When he finished inside you, he hdld you down until his cock was milked dry, pumping you so full of cum that it would leak out of your hole in a perfect cream pie every time.

He’d admire the sight, gazing down at you lustfully as he licked his lips.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he’d say, one of the few times you’d hear his praise.

He wasn’t a complete monster. Afterwards, he always made sure to grab you some water and curl up against you under the covers, planting soft kisses on your skin until you fell asleep.

He knew how weak and soft humans were. And you were his most treasured. 

[sixtsposts]

Bad memories - Bucky Barnes

TW: female!reader, fight in a couple, mention of Steve's death, mention of Rebecca, sad Bucky, past trauma, from angst to fluff?

"You're not even trying!" You were pissed off right now. Like a lot, to the point where you are pacing around your shared bedroom with Bucky staring at you.

It's been about thirty minutes that Bucky and you are arguing and your starting to loose it. You just didn't understand him right now.

"I'm just asking you to come to the cinema with us! Seriously Bucky, what's the matter here?" You shout again but with an undertone of curiosity in your voice.

Bucky look up in your eyes and it hurts him to notice the worry in the frown of your eyebrows, "There's not matter, okay?" He sighs and rub his face, turning slightly away from you.

"So you just don't want to spend time with me, that's it," you reply harshly, with a hurt expression.

"That's not what it means doll, you don't understand," Bucky sighs and try to take a step closer to you. Though you take steps back refusing to lean in.

"And what should I understand Bucky? You've been gone on a mission for two months, you're back since a week and all you do is meeting Sam to prepare new missions. And now, you even refuse to spend few hours with me and our friends?" You yell at him, "You're right, I don't understand," you cross your arms in front of your chest, you're so upset you could cry.

Bucky put a hand on his hip and rub his forehead with the other, "That's not- you don't get it," he says with whar looks like a tired expression.

"Indeed," you point out with a cold demeanour.

"I'm not trying to hurt you doll!" He suddenly turns to you with a sincere expression.

"But that's what you do though!" You reply back, taking a step closer witha frown.

"I'm scared doll!" He shouts suddenly and your angry expression flatters, "I can't handle this and it makes me scared, okay?" He repeats with a quieter voice. He turns his back to you, his arms fold against his chest almost in a protective manner.

You bite your lips, the way that his voice slightly broke not going unoticed by you. You sigh by your nose, starting to feel slightly guilty for your behavior. You walk to him slowly and gently put your hand on his back, stroking it softly in a soothing manner.

"You can talk to me babe, I'm sorry. You can always talk to me," you say quietly with a soft voice tone. You want him to feel safe around you as much as you feel safe around him. But you just failed.

"I could handle loosing my mind, my arm, my self-control because Steve was here. But now he left me and... I just don't think I can handle it, so I try to keep myself occupied," he starts to explain, the plain pretty clear in his voice. You don't interruped him but you wrap you wrap your arms around him back, holding him warmly in your loving embrace.

"I didn't mean to hurt you doll, I'm just so weak since he left," you shush him and stroke his torso with your thumbs.

"I know Buck it's okay, you're not weak," you mumur with a soft voice, holding him closer and tighter. He puts his hands above yours on his torso.

"The cinema it's just... I didn't do that since 1942 doll," Bucky keep explaining, his tone no more harsh at all. Your expression softens even more as he turns to look at you. "Going to the movie theater, it was always with Steve or... Rebecca," you look up in his blue eyes and grab his hand gently in your. If Steve was a hard topic now, Bucky's little sister completly taboo most of time. You understand that he's really opening to you right now. Your thumb stroke the back of his calloused hand in a soothing manner.

"I don't wanna bring up bad memories or force you into anything baby. But maybe it's the right moment to try things again? You can't stop doing all the things you did in the forties," you tell him with a soft voice.

Bucky sighs one more time, squeezing your hand gently.

"I'm scared- I don't want to go and find out everything is different. It'll remind me of Steve and het but at the same time prooving me they're both gone for real..." he pass a hand on his face again and you can see his internal conflict mixed with this sadness in his eyes.

"It's okay baby," you say as you put your other hand on his cheek. "I know you're doing your best and you're doing great."

You try to catch his gaze and when his eyes meets yours you smile warmly. "What do you think about staying here instead and cuddling in front of a movie with Alpine?"

Bycky chuckles slightly, his eyes full of tender and love, "Sounds good to me doll," you got on your tip-toes and leave a small kiss on his lips. He squeezes your hand again and lean in for another kiss, deeper this time.

"I love you doll," he mumbles as he put his forehead against yours. Your smile widen, "I love you too Buck."

[sk3tch404]

How do you feel about yan jojo characters using there stand to harm there darling ? Or use it to there advantage.I like to imagine some characters like jotaro, jolyne , Joseph using there stands to kidnap or threaten their darling

YES!! I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!!

I really hate it, but sort of love the idea because of the power imbalance it brings. Especially if darling isnt a stand user themselves.

I'm pretty sure darling would have a mental break because how the fuck is an invisible force dragging them up by the ankle?? Gravity?? Hello? Not to mention being HURT BY IT? Yeah ur all checked out.

Using the Joestar bloodline specifically for this was diabolical, thank you.

Jotaro would be one to use Star Platinum to intimidate his darling-- as if he himself wouldn't already be enough-- but he would never use Star to hurt them. Only if it were necessary. Afterward, he'd feel obligated to treat his darling be it tending to their wounds or gifts to make it up if they deserve it. He's a pretty closed off guy, so showing remorse face-to-face is a hard thing. Younger Jotaro would have a lot more difficulty with saying sorry. He'd say things he didn't really mean, "Then don't be a pain." Okay, he kind of meant it, but that's just his default response. Jotaro would make it up in some way or another to get rid of that cold shoulder of yours.

That's only if you're ballsy enough to even let him loom over you in dead silence for more than a few seconds.

Older Jotaro using his stand to hurt his darling is reserved for worst case scenarios only as well. He has more resources and has come a long way since his teenage years. He doesn't expect for his darling to magically get comfortable around him instantly or even in several months following the revelation of his yandere tendencies. He finds that using violence to get ones way doesn't really get what people want in the end, so its useless to him. It only applies if his his darling is actively running or trying to kill him.

Something he'd do in general with Star to intimidate his darling is scare tactics. Jotaro is pretty straightforward and tells it how it is, but he isn't above telling a few lies to get you on his side. He sees no point in hurting himself or you for some brownie points, so he does the obvious. Break shit around you. Though, not in some fit or tantrum. Rather, just to showcase the control he has in each situation. It seems to be way easier to crack a table in half, leaving concern for splinters around you two, (not that he cares much), and have you willingly be smart than grabbing you by the arm and dragging you away kicking and screaming. So damn annoying. It'd stress him out, and again, he hates screaming.

Jotaro would 100% use the help of Star to kidnap his darling. He utilizes Star well and gets the job DONE. Not to mention having the Speedwagon Foundation backing him up as well.

Old Joseph would use Hermit Purple occasionally. Assuming he had a falling out with Suzie, he wants to appear as best as he can for his darling. He'd be a gentleman. Well, as gentlemanly as an eccentric elder who's main focus is breaking and talking to screens can get. Joseph wouldn't use Hermit Purple to teach his darling a lesson or scare them at all. The only times he'd feel inclined to whip his stand out is to restrain his darling if they decide to attempt escaping, or to... do what old people do. Yeah.... But anyway, those are the only two most likely scenarios that come to mind if he were to ever use ol' H.P on his darling. Joseph would rather focus on wooing and winning over his darling rather than forcing them into submission all the time.

I do want to be like, "He would put pedal to the metal," or, "A little elbow grease does the trick," but honestly, that belongs to Young Joseph. Same guy basically, just more unhinged and less wise. Young Joseph would intentionally push his darling, but would suffer the unintentional consequences. He just wants some luv 💔 "Oh no! I made my darling cry because I kept dragging them away from the people they love and continuously pushed their boundaries! I tried to do everything right, how could this happen?" WHY ARE YOU DENSE SIR. GEEZ LA WHEEZ.

Jolyne would use Stone Free to mess with the stuff in her darling's life so they come running to her instead of scaring them into submission. She's a romantic at heart, but her darling doesn't make it easier by pushing her away. In the usual prison setting, she'd whisk away your stuff so you have to come asking if she has any commissary to spare. Other times, she's petty enough to mess with others in front of you if she feels threatened by them. Although, she'd either make sure to be low-key about it, or brush it off if you really have an issue with it, "So what? It's not like they're our friend right? This ain't a daycare or whatever. And besides, its not even a big deal. Don't worry about it." Gets sort of defensive, but always backs her "claims" up in some way. A bit foolish, but quick thinking.

She tries to tone it down usually due to there being potential hundreds of stand users that could get back at her for something stupid she did. If her darling ever caught on to her antics, (probably because the crazy shit always gotta happen around her), she'd deny it HARDCORE at first, but would feel bad eventually and confess because what's a relationship without communication and trust? She'd never want to lie and snowball that into something she can't control anymore. Jolyne might get emotional, but her drive outweighs the doubt in her. She'd make it up to you in any way she can, and with her friends, she can make prison life a whole lot easier or harder. Darling's choice.

[bestfriend491]

“You know you saved my life, right?”

- a drabble (I'm back 🤭)

Ramonda

"You know you saved my life, right?"

You turned towards your wife at her words, baring a smile only she could get out of you. “Oh, did I now?”, you asked playfully. You were a renowned Dora Milaje in your own right, but personally saving Ramonda had never been something you recalled doing. Not that you wouldn't jump at the chance to if the moment arrived. It just hadn't happened yet. And you were glad to keep it that way.

“You did.” she replied truthfully. Going in to hold her hand, you found her face growing serious, as though she were seeing the memory of this so-called ‘saving’ and it wouldn't leave her mind. You found yourself growing hesitant at your previous answer.

Had there been a moment where you'd saved her from something?

In your mind, she was the one constantly saving you. Stopping you from being hasty in dangerous attacks. Making sure your armour was on correctly, even while knowing you'd never put it on recklessly in the first place. All she did was save you. Or, at the very least, try to save you.

“When did I save you, my love?” you asked, bringing her hand to your lips, and kissing it gently. Her serious expression melted at that, and you could tell that you'd just soothed a craving in her. so, you did it again.

In any other moment, she would have let herself get lost in the physical contact. Let herself forget that anyone but you existed. But she had started a conversation; an important one. And she wanted to finish it.

“It's not a singular unit.”

“So you're saying I've saved you more than once without any recollection of doing it? Was I sleepwalking or something?” you tried to joke. She let out her silk-filled laugh, the smoothest of sounds. One that never lasted quite long enough for your liking. Especially now.

“I'm serious, Y/n.” she tried again. You let the confident act go, wanting to hear what she actually had to say.

“I didn't know where my life was headed before I met you. I mean, I knew I had a nation to lead and protect. But that was my life as queen. I had no idea where regular Ramonda’s life was going.”

You smiled at that. Regular Ramonda. It was strange to hear her say that. As though her regular self was somehow less of something to fawn over. Regular Ramonda was your everything. She was the reason you held your head up so high. She was your first thought in the morning and the sweet song that lulled you to sleep every night. There would be no Queen Ramonda without Regular Ramonda. And that made her so much more special in your eyes.

“But then I met you.” she continued, “And all the missing pieces came to make the life I have now. The life we have now”

You saw the stars in her eyes at that. Stars that had been there since the moment you'd first set your eyes onto the stunning woman. They were perfect. She was perfect.

“That’s got nothing to do with me, Ramonda.” You started.

“But it does, sthandwa sam. It all does.” She moved closer, the stars becoming even more clear to you.

“You saved me before anyone knew I needed saving. You held me up before even I knew that I was on the verge of falling. Your existence has lifted years of burden off of my shoulders and replaced them with enough good memories to last a lifetime.”

You hugged her at that point, holding her up once more.

“I'll never be able to thank you enough for that, Y/n.”

“You wouldn't ever have to. Some gifts are happy coincidences given to deserving people. And Ramonda, my darling, I've never met anyone as deserving.”

[shamrockqueen]

Sleeping Beauty

(Female version)

Pairing : Bucky X Reader

Warnings : Somnophilia, Bucky fucks his sleeping Beauty, unprotected sex, smut PWP

Word count : 1299

AO3 page Link

Gender Neutral Version Link

This fic was closely inspired by/quoted from this post by @sleepy-lil-submissive. The gender neutral version is attached the original post via a repost and the link is available above.

He didn’t expect to wake up this late at night. Particularly hot by having his eyes assaulted by the little cuts of moonlight that streamed into the bedroom, to glint off the dark metal of his arm. He had to push himself out of bed to get up, and close the drapes just to escape it.

He turned back to the bed, and as his eyes readjusted to the darker room he saw your sleeping figure curled over on your side. He drew the comforter away to slip back underneath, only have the sight of your sweet soft body catch his eye.

You had on one of his black t-shirts, and nothing else. You had a knack for sleeping naked and soon took a liking to wearing only a piece of his clothing to bed. A beautiful sight to see, and for a short while he just stood by and watched you softly sleep.

The moment passes and now he’s leaning in to press his large warm hand to your hip as he slides back into bed. He’s positioned at your back as if to act as the big spoon, arguably the best position to cuddle back into you.

But, instead of draping his hand over your waist he brought his fingers up over the top of your thigh to gravitate between them. His fingers circle the entrance to your core before pushing two of them in with only a little resistance.

His soft sexy sleeping little slut was already wet the moment he touched you.

He whispered as much, but only to himself with “You’re dripping for me already, doll? I’d love to know what your dreamin about.”

No doubt the visions dancing across your closed eyelids were that of his vibranium fist curled around your throat in the heat of some passionate fucking.

You didn’t answer him after he spoke, and he didn’t expect one from you as he played with your limp body.

For now, he’s gentle. He only stirs his digits around enough to cause small moans to escape your partially parted lips. He has to make sure he won't wake his sleeping beauty, as well as to ensure he can slip in right away by stretching you on his fingers.

He turned further on his side as he took his hand away from your slick flower, causing you to let out a small semi-audible whine. He pressed his lips to the back of your ear to shush this brief inconvenience away, before pulling back to bring his fingers up to his mouth. He suckled at your dew that had stained his skin, and had to close his eyes as savored your taste.

It was a shame he didn’t have enough time to nudge his head between your legs and lap up more. Instead he slips his flesh hand under the crook of your thigh as his metal one presses into the mattress to push under your waist so he can hold onto you better.

It helps keep you steady as he pulls himself free from the confines of his boxers, letting him press his stiffened cock along your sweet slick folds. The tip slides past your core to bump against your bud, sending a small jolt up your body and causing you to twitch in his arms.

His hood on you helps keep you steady as he prods at your entrance, trying to press his tip to the small opening of your core. You were plenty wet for him already, so as he pushed up into you he was met with little resistance. Even in sleep you take his cock beautifully, right to the hilt.

When he’s able to move without the fear of startling you, he begins gently pulling himself from your core before gliding back in.

He gives only a few good hard thrusts, and your cunt already feels like magic on his cock.

While in slumber your body still reacts to him perfectly as he continues his slow pace. Just a low slick drag of his cock along your inner walls. When he gets a chance to look down as he's pulling out he can see how wet you've gotten his cock.

Your slick glistened along his shaft in the dim gleam of moonlight that still escaped into the room. A little had escaped through a small opening from between the curtains he hadn’t fully closed.

Once he's taken a little he has to have more. He can't keep himself from wanting to bounce you against his thighs, and his muscles shiver as he holds himself off from just slamming his cock up into you.

The movement is enough to shake a little sleep out of your body and you start to mumble and whine at this fluttering feeling deep in your core.

He can feel you clamping around him as he rocks himself into you. Your body is only turning slightly, but he takes it the whole way while cradling and petting your head. One hand weaves it’s fingers into your hair as the metal arm rolls you onto your belly.

He's behind you now, as your flat against the bed with your head in the pillow. He didn’t mean to jostle you too much, so with his cock still hard pressed against the back of your fluttering cunt he leans in near your ear to coo you back to sleep.

"Shhhhhhh. I know, I know it feels good. But I'm not done just yet, Doll. Go back to sleep for me, okay? I'll be gentle."

His metal fingers press into the side of your hips, as his other hand slides over your side and down your back to draw warmth from your skin.

He lets himself get a little faster, but still trying not to be too rough on you as you still wavered halfway in and out of sleep.

Your once heavy breathing turns into dainty, little whines that we're almost inaudible.

“It’s taking so much outta me to not just slam my cock into you, Baby.” His whispered growls could still just barely reach you in your twilight state. But, he wanted to take care of you, be gentle with you.

He could feel the very back of your core around his tip as you slowly came undone around him. Later you'll have recollection of this hot bright burst along your core and up your spine, only to have thought it was part of your dreams.

His muscles ached from the strain of having to hold back from just fucking the life out of your already limp body. The strain on his body was what made him cum as hard as he did.

It was so strained, and his hips shook hard against the back of your thighs as he painted your pink walls with his thick cum.

It's like his cock is stuttering as he digs his teeth into his lower lip. He tightens his grip on your hip, letting the metal of his fingers dig into your skin.

He can feel you shake a little around him, but soon your body goes back to being limp and warm in his hands. When the mind numbing glow wears away he lets himself slip out, and a stream of sticky white seed follows after him.

He presses a kiss to your cheek, feeling that your skin is hot under his lips. Yet, your breathing is even, with the light rumble of a soft snore.

Tomorrow morning you'll find the sticky mess he left between your legs, the remnants of last night's dreams will seem more and more real.

The gate of your walk will be off kilter as you get up and walk to the bathroom, and you’ll feel the warm remainder of his spendings spill out.

Want more Bucky? Then check out Bucky’s masterlist!

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

HI! Sorry, first time doing something like this, I just really liked your fic of the yandere neko cafe!

I was wondering if you could do this request, just if you feeling like it, of course, is just how some of your ocs (anybody really, I like them all, lol) would react to Reader getting gifted some cat ears and actually putting them on?

tysm, keep up the work, u're doing amazing!

Damn even Donut (jk I love him too)? It melts my heart that you like my characters and I think this would be cute. Thank you for requesting from me, I find it very sweet.

Yandere Cat Cafe's Reactions to you wearing cat Ears

Totally ecstatic:

Macchi:

Macchi loves cats and you, combining them makes you all the more irresistible. She doesn't care how you get them because this girl is buying you more. Ooh maybe she'll buy calico ears so you're matching! Maybe even matching outfits too! Wait where are you going, she's just getting started!

Cocoa:

OMG! You look totally fabulous! She has to take some pictures of you and two and post them! Just two cute besties, #purrfectpair! You will be sore from smiling as Cocoa gets different photos from different angles. How can she not when you both look so cute! Wait you know she saw a few items in the mall that would look fab with your ears. She's got coupons! You end up being dragged away on a shopping spree with a very happy Burmese.

Cookie and Muffin:

The twin terrors and fooling around behind the counter (under Shopkeeper's watchful eye) trying to make sweetest drink possible. When it's to their satisfaction they run to get you to try it. Baba look what they ma-Oh my gosh you're just like them! They knew you were perfect for their little family! They drop the drink forgetting all about it, instead asking why you were hiding your ears from them before. You try to explain that they are fake, but the twins are so happy you fake some story about not feeling confident with them out. Good luck getting out of this one because now you'll be wearing cat ears 24/7 to keep up the lie.

Matcha:

Bro's your biggest supporter (bro but gender neutral), you could walk in wearing a trash bag and Matcha would think you were the most ethereal being to walk the planet Earth. You walking in with cat ears makes them want to cry, you look so heavenly. You panic a little bit as they grab onto your ankle and weep while singing your praises. They just want to worship you as you deserve. Definitely wants you to buy a cat collar, not for yourself but for them. They just want to be yours and seeing you looking so cute eggs them on.

Meh:

Shopkeeper:

Shopkeeper finds it amusing that you prance into their cafe wearing cat ears. Do you want them to serve your coffee in a saucer for you to lap at? Don't look so frustrated it will only egg them on further. Besides that, Shopkeeper is neither ecstatic nor completely hating the idea. They love you for you and cat ears will make no difference.

Espresso:

Espresso is pretty nonchalant about the cat ears, if it makes you happy and doesn't harm anyone go for it. If anyone talks bad in public about you wearing them, you get scary cat privileges as Espresso looks more like a panther behind you. Glaring as he shields you from the offending party. He will probably be more into them when he starts drawing pictures of you with cat ears. Besides that, no big reaction.

Cappuccino:

So, you still going to cuddle them? Okay then they don't care. Cap don't give a single fuck, definition of apathy. Only reason they are slightly interested is because they are on you. If you were to do things that cats do to show affection like bring Cap gifts or nuzzle them. You won't be leaving the cafe without being dragged off to a secluded area and being thoroughly marked. Sides that lazy kitty don't care.

Croissant:

Confused Croissant activated. Are you trying to court him? He's flattered immensely but don't you think this method is a little unorthodox? Croissant flushing like you kissed him in public. He isn't used to people going out of their way for his affections, so give him some space. He will accept your silent confession just try not to do something like this in public again please.

Hates it:

Sugar:

Don't get her wrong, she thinks you're cute, but she can't help but find the display childish. She wants you to be happy but at the same time she wants to have sway over how you look. If you wanted accessories, you should ask her. Sugar is a well-known rising actress because of her hardworking attitude and alluring figure. She's got money to spoil you with any accessory you want, as long as she approves. Preferably a nice little pure silver chain she can hold onto.

Butch:

Cats. It's always those fuckers. He works at a cat cafe and such but that doesn't mean he's a cat lover (bro you literally like Shopkeeper stfu). Bares his teeth at this display, you really love riling him up and pretending that you did nothing wrong. He'll rip those disgusting things off your head and get you a proper pair of dog ears. Wait what why is he saying this, he doesn't like you like that?!

Donut:

Darling why did you accept some scoundrel's gift so easily. He'd adore them he bought them but some mangy person, that's too far! He's a model and Shopkeeper pays extremely well he can buy you anything you want. Pouts and complains about the ears getting in the way of snuggle time. Gets more jealous if you refuse to let him replace them. If you insist on cheating on him so openly there will be consequences.

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Eight Seconds

[Not quite an author’s note, but more so a confession: I went line dancing the other night… I wish it went like this 😮‍💨 This do be self-indulgent PWP below the cut :) ]

__________

“I feel like an absolute schmuck. I look like an absolute schmuck. Cowboy hats aren’t meant to be worn this far west, it’s just not a good look,” Danny laments aloud, then catches his girlfriend’s eyes narrowed at his comment and quickly amends, “Except you, my dear, look absolutely adorable in yours.”

“That’s because you’ve got Jersey written all over your ugly mug,” his best friend ever so kindly informs him before taking a pull from his second beer of the night. “Gimme that.”

Steve takes the felt hat off of the blonde’s head and dons it himself instead, adjusting the brim low enough to hide the way his gaze is fixed on one young woman twirling around the dancefloor.

You throw your head back with a laugh as your current partner in the circle dance spins you to the next, and you take your new partner’s hand without missing a beat. Steve is absolutely mesmerized by the way you move so effortlessly, gliding between the complicated steps without a care in the world, your ponytail swinging in the same rhythm as your tempting hips.

“Hey,” Melissa yells to be heard over the pounding bass of the country song, nudging Steve hard enough to break him out of his trance. He turns to her and she lifts the brim of the hat before challenging, “Why don’t you get in there instead of ogling her all night, Commander?”

He’s grateful the flashing lights turn red at that moment to accompany the song change and graciously hide the heat creeping across his cheeks. “Am I being that obvious?”

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t put out a restraining order yet,” Danny’s quick to jibe. “Although I guess you’re meeting the requisite fifty feet.”

“You’re a riot,” the brunette grumbles under his breath before downing the rest of his beer. He twists around to place the empty bottle on the table, then turns back to find his view of the dancefloor blocked by a pair of jean shorts and a crop top sporting the skeletal head of a bull, if he’s not mistaken.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong,” your sweet voice settles over him like the Hawaii sunshine after a cool morning swim, “but y’all came out on a line dancing night and have yet to get to dancing.” A finger tips the brim of his hat even further up, and Steve comes face to face with the vision he’s been silently pining after all evening. He opens his mouth to answer, but finds himself speechless for quite possibly the first time in his adult life.

Thankfully, you fill the silence by chatting with Melissa, letting Steve bask in the touch of warm southern drawl woven around your words, and a different kind of heat floods his face this time thinking about what that sweet accent would sound like calling out his name tonight. He zones out while you prattle on, indulging in his decidedly not-safe-for-work fantasy and appreciating the way the cuff of your shorts sits snugly on your thick thighs just below the curve of your ass. Of all the things he’s been jealous of touching you tonight, denim takes the crown for being the most absurd.

“Commander Cupid,” Danny barks, roughly swatting at Steve’s shoulder to get his attention. “She’s talking to you, you putz.”

He clears his throat before turning his focus to you with an apologetic smile. “Got lost in my thoughts there,” he says by way of an explanation, and the twinkle of mirth in your eyes tells him you have a pretty good idea of just what those thoughts entailed.

“I asked if you wanted to come dance or just sit here watching me all night,” you repeat, one eyebrow cocked playfully.

“Oh, I, uh-” He knows he’s caught, and he lets out a soft laugh while shaking his head. “Totally busted, huh?”

“Tell you what,” you declare confidently, letting your hair fall loose from its elastic confine before palming the felt hat and settling it snugly on your head with a smirk. “I’ll make the decision for you.”

You start your journey back to the dance floor, clapping along to the kick drum announcing the beginning of that one Luke Bryan song that everybody always seems to know. You throw a wink over your shoulder and Steve stands to join you, pausing mid-step when Melissa hollers his name. He turns back to find an elated grin on her face, and she calls out, “Do you know the rule?”

Steve raises one eyebrow and shakes his head, curious.

“If you wear the hat…”

__________

“...you ride the cowboy,” you exclaim breathlessly in the back of Steve’s Silverado, your thighs burning from exertion. “Never heard that one before?”

“Nu uh,” the brunette answers rather unintelligently, the second syllable morphing into a groan when you roll your hips against his, somehow slotting his length even deeper in your heat. His hands find your love handles of their own volition, kneading the soft, warm skin there while you mouth hungrily at the sharp planes of his stubbled jaw.

He plants his feet on the floor of his truck before using his bruising grip as leverage to buck up into you, your hips kissing with every thrust as his lips find yours once more. You moan into his awaiting mouth, every coherent thought in your head disappearing, replaced by a mantra of your devilish lover’s name.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve rumbles out his praise. “Take everything I give you like a good girl.”

“Fuck yes,” you cry out, your head falling back and giving him the opportunity to run his nose down your exposed throat, a light scraping of teeth following in its wake. “Bite me,” you plead, and he’s quick to obey, sinking his teeth into the dip where your neck and shoulder meet.

Your walls tighten around his cock at the pleasurable tinge of pain, forcing Steve to let out an involuntary whimper against your skin. You pull back with a gasp, cupping his cheeks between your two smaller hands and feeling his face grow hot beneath your fingertips. “Oh my god,” you manage to get out between incessant pants every time your hips meet. “Do that again.”

“You like th-” The incredulous question dies on his lips, cut off by another soft whimper when you intentionally flex your muscles around him.

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard come out of a man’s mouth,” you declare, excited by the new discovery. “Don’t you hold back on me now.”

He doesn’t.

Spurred on by your praise and just how fucking hot it is for someone else to order him around for once, Steve allows himself to be vocal, all manner of delicious sounds escaping his kiss-bitten lips while you ride him for everything he’s worth.

“That’s it, baby,” you echo his words from earlier with a positively dangerous grin. “Take everything I give you like a good boy.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his cock twitching in response to your overt display of dominance. This is new for him, too, and he decides at that moment that he’s going to have to explore this side of himself more often.

“What is it, Steve?” you ask, your taunt coated by your honey-sweetened accent. “You need to cum? Need to fill this little pussy up?” An unintelligible noise works its way up from low in his throat, and he stares up at you, dumbstruck. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Steve nods desperately, not trusting his voice to form a response in a coherent manner.

“Oh, sweet boy,” you coo, carding your fingers through his hair, slowing down the torturous twisting of your hips, your other hand teasing your clit. He holds your thighs in a vice grip, his own quaking beneath your body in an attempt to stave off his impending orgasm. Then you tuck one finger under his chin and lift his gaze to yours, and the single syllable you utter shatters the last of his resolve. “Beg.”

Hot ropes of cum paint your walls as Steve lets out a debauched groan, his head falling back against the seat of the truck while you apply steady pressure to your clit, letting yourself crest over the edge moments after him.

You give Steve some time to recover, pressing gentle kisses to his sweaty skin and running your nails along his scalp until the heaving of his chest gives way to steadier breathing. “You okay, baby?”

“That-” He stops, shaking his head and opting to capture your lips in a tender kiss instead of voicing his feelings.

“I figured after the week you had, fighting with the FBI over jurisdiction on your case, you might like to give up control,” you offer by way of explanation, sinking further into his lap to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“Yeah, you could say that,” your boyfriend laughs, in awe of your uncanny ability to read him so easily. His fingers trail up and down your spine and you settle into his warmth with a content sigh before cheekily adding, “Didn’t think you’d like it that much, though.”

A laugh rumbles out of him again and he admits, “I knew you were a switch, but I didn’t think I was, too.”

“Surprise,” you respond, and he feels your lips turn upward in a smile against his skin. “And here you and Danny were being resistant to line dancing. I told y’all it’s fun, didn’t I?”

He hums in agreement, then adds with a self-satisfied lilt to his voice, “Kind of you to save a horse tonight, sweetheart.”

You snort in response, clambering out of his lap to fix your clothes for the ride home. Finding the discarded cowboy hat in the truck’s passenger seat, you return it to its rightful spot on your boyfriend’s head. “I’ll turn you into a country boy, yet, Steve.”

__________

[A/N (for realsies): Don’t ask where this came from, tbh I blame WhimperTok for r u i n i n g me. And I just know this big, tough man is secretly a lil slut who wants to be Commander outside the bedroom but Commanded™️ in the bedroom, u feel me? I may have to explore this more 👀]

[sagittarianpocky]

Heaven | Zamasu X Fem!Human!Reader.

First time posting my work on here. Um, hello. On a Zamasu binge right now.

Porn with very slight plot. And some fluff, but it's Zamasu, so, you know. I just like writing things that are self indulgent, and he deserves more love. Also not spell checked. We die like men, and spell checking with ADHD is practically impossible anyway. And it’s written in first person pov because I suck at second person. Otherwise. Enjoy, I guess.

Rating: NSFW. 18+. Obviously.

Word count: 3,095

Summary: Zamasu gets... a little jealous that another mortal dared to flirt with his special human.

“I’ve never seen you so nervous.” 

To have a Supreme Kai staring you down - it’s a harrowing experience. Especially because it was Zamasu. Gray, hungry, narrowed eyes were staring directly through my own, going all the way down into the depths of my soul. He was standing mere inches from me. We’d been having a discussion, which was absolutely normal, but I brought up the fact that some random dude on the street had asked for my phone number in passing. That’s when he first got that look in his eye, his voice got lower, and I could see that something was brewing within the darkest corners of his mind.

“Zamasu.” My voice came out quiet and weak, almost like a stutter. “What’s gotten into you?”

His fingertip just barely touched my chin, tilting my head up toward his own. I had to look at him, no matter how flushed my face was getting. He wasn’t much taller than me, but it was just enough for him to be intimidating. The height difference made me feel small and helpless, but in the depths of my own mind, I didn’t hate the feeling. And I think he knew that. “The idea that any of these barbaric, uncivilized mortals could believe, even for one moment, that they have the right to someone as divine as you is absolutely revolting.” 

I backed up a little. Just one step, but he followed suit. I responded, “That’s… why I told him no.” 

“As you should.” A smirk was pulling at the corner of his lips. “Do the same with everyone who dares to ask for even a sliver of your affection.” 

I blinked a few times, and I felt his thumb brush my jaw. “I… don’t understand. What is this about? You know how I feel about people, so-“

“What I am saying… is that there is but one being who is worthy of you.”

I swallowed roughly. “… Who?”

“Me.” 

The response came out so commanding, as if it were the absolute truth. My breath caught in my throat. His stoic, never-changing expression told me that he wasn’t lying. “You… want me? But I’m…”

“A mortal? Ah, no. You’re a…special case.” His hand rested on my cheek, and his thumb brushed my lower lip. He usually had a confident aura, but now, it was penetrating through my soul. Paralyzing me. “I’m surprised it took you so long to notice. Mortals do tend to be quite oblivious, so I won’t take offense.” 

“You… want me.” That came out barely audible, more repeating it so I could believe it myself. It made him smirk. My eyes couldn’t leave his, but I noticed him take a quick glance at me. My body, more specifically. “In, um… what ways?”

He moved centimeters closer as he confessed, “in all ways, darling. If that’s alright with you.”

“Wouldn’t that… break rules?”

“Supreme Kai law? Perhaps.” He brushed a piece of hair from my face. “But you of all people should know that I care little for those old-fashioned doctrines.” 

“I see.” A brief silence ensued until I whispered back, “then, it’s alright with me.” 

“Are you sure?” That came out almost teasing. “Once you start, there’s no going back. I’m sure you’re aware.” 

“…I’m sure.” 

He smirked in such a feral way that it exposed one of his fangs. “Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, my dear.” 

That’s when his lips met mine. It startled me, but at the same time, I melted. I melted at such a quick rate that I couldn’t believe it. He pushed me against the wall, hands sliding down my sides. When I started to reciprocate, it was like all inhibitions were thrown to the wayside. His body was right against mine, and his tongue snaked right into my mouth. He tasted… like cedar. I wasn’t sure how to explain. A sap, more bitter than honey, but still retaining an intoxicating sweetness. On top of that, he was kissing me like he hadn’t had a taste of physical contact like this in hundreds, if not thousands of years. Then he pulled back and laughed to himself, murmuring, “exquisite. Even better than I imagined.” 

I was trying to catch my breath. “You’ve… been thinking about this?”

“Of course I have. You invaded my thoughts. Thoughts of grandeur being tainted with thoughts of desire. I tried so hard to resist, but I can no longer do so.” His hand was sneaking underneath my shirt, but I was too enamored with his eyes to look down. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to see you for everything you are. To devour you. To make you mine.”

With that, he began to kiss me again. I knew how privileged I was. To be in such close contact with a Supreme Kai - a being like Zamasu - no other being in the universe would be given the opportunity. His hand was slowly pulling my shirt up, and then he separated from me to remove it entirely. My face grew red because I knew he was checking me out, but again, it made me feel small. Finally, he said, “come here.” 

He pulled me toward my bed and he sat down on the edge. He spun my back toward him and pulled me onto his lap, guiding me to straddle one of his legs. With my back against his chest, I could feel his breath against my neck. His hands were sliding up my bare thighs, then to my hips, and then up to my chest. With ease, he undid the clasps, and my bra slid to the ground. Why he didn’t bother with my skirt was beyond me, especially when he turned my face to his. He whispered, “You are simply divine, darling.” 

He didn’t give me a chance to speak. His lips met mine and his hands groped my chest. I couldn’t help it - seeking friction, my hips rolled against his thigh. What pained me more was the fact that he was still fully clothed. I couldn’t get as much as I desired. When he started teasing my nipples, I could tell that he was playing with me, much to his own amusement. When he started pinching them, I moaned into his mouth. It was shameless. He pulled back from my lips, and diverted his attention to my neck. Kissing and nipping at my skin, my body was reacting exactly how he wanted. He was chuckling to himself. Embarrassingly, it was almost too much, even though he’d done so little. I groaned, “Zamasu…”

I could feel his body tense as he said, “oh, that was marvelous. I’ve never heard anyone say my name like that before.” 

He bit the side of my neck hard, triggering another groan. He would bite every sensitive spot he could find. One of his hands moved to my hip, guiding them in the same pattern they’d been grinding in, just with more force. I whimpered, mentally noting that I should’ve guessed he’d be some sort of sadist that liked to play with his food.

I heard him smirk as he said, “a sadist? I suppose so. Playing with you is far too much fun.” 

I blushed hard. I would often forget that Kais could read minds, and I had no doubt that he’d been reading mine the entire time. I felt his hand slide underneath my skirt, moving dangerously close to the area that most of my body heat was gathering in. My hips bucked toward his hand, which made him laugh. “So reactive. Would you like me to do something?”

Even the tone of his voice was enough to make my body hotter. “I… need you to touch me.”

“You’ll need to elaborate, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.” 

As he said that, his fingers inched closer. One of his fingertips was just barely grazing my clit through my panties. “I need… your fingers.”

“Where, darling?”

My hips bucked against his hand which made me blurt out, “in me. Please.” 

“That’s a good girl. I suppose I can oblige.” He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss against my neck, and he took no time when picking me up and placing me down on the bed. The skirt was an easy thing to unzip and pull off, and my panties went with it, falling to the floor. His eyes were dark as he removed his overcoat, hanging it over the chair at my desk. He climbed over me with a predatory gaze as he mumbled, “oh, Gods, you are absolutely heavenly.” 

That’s when I felt his hand touch my core. He explored everything with his fingertip, giving me a light kiss as he did so. He pulled back, leaving his lips brushing against mine as he looked down. “To think you could get this worked up so quickly… that’s sinful, darling. I’ve barely started.” 

I tried to respond, but he pressed two fingers into me with absolute ease. He drove them into me as far as they could go, and he held them there, prompting me to try to move my hips. “Ngh, Zamasu-“ 

“Needy, are you?” He pulled his fingers back, and then pushed them into me once more, making me bark out a sound that resembled a groan. The smirk on his face told me that he was loving every second of this. I squirmed. He was holding his hand still. Then, he whispered, “I’m sure you can be louder than that. I suppose I’ll find out, won’t I?”

Only then did he begin to move his fingers. At a slow, but steady pace, always forceful when pushing them back in. He liked the way my body would jerk, and he liked the way my face would contort. I could hear it in his breath, which was getting deeper and more husky by the minute. Then, he curled his fingers, which made me groan his name again. It made him chuckle. “Yes, beautiful. Do it again.”

His fingers quickened in pace. My back arched up, pressing me against him. He kissed me. My fingers were gripping the sheets, and I felt him add a third finger. The stretch sent heat shooting through my body. It made my toes curl. It made my breathing go rapid, to the point where he pulled back just to watch me squirm beneath him. Finally, I mewled, “Zamasu… I… I’m gonna…”

And just like that, his fingers stopped. The high I was desperately seeking faded away, leaving me speechless. And he was smirking darkly as he slowly withdrew his fingers from me. When I was about to complain, he shushed me. “No, darling. You need to be patient. That was simply just to prepare you. Do you understand?”

I nodded shakily, every urge to complain fading away. I quietly responded, “Yes. I understand.” 

“Good girl.” I felt him press a gentle kiss to my forehead. He whispered, “Now, give me a moment. Relax.”

I felt him move off the bed. My head was spinning. Not just from orgasm denial, but from his sudden shifts in demeanor. He could go from cruel to sweet in the blink of an eye. I was trying to catch my breath, staring at the ceiling through lidded eyes as I listened to fabric moving around. Then, I felt him crawl back over me, once again rubbing his thumb on my cheek. “Feeling alright, darling?”

I nodded, leaning into his touch. “Yes.”

“Good.” He brushed hair out of my face. He looked so… nice. Genuine, like he usually did. “Now, I need you to move up just a bit. Can you do that?”

I nodded, slowly pulling myself toward the top of the bed. He urged me along until my head was resting atop a pillow, and then he moved atop me. That was the first time I felt his bare skin against mine. It was strangely cold, and it sent a shiver down my spine. He kissed me passionately, hips pressing into my own. I could feel his length rubbing along my core, which made my lips quiver. He pulled back from the kiss and said, “I’m going to ravage you now, darling. Are you ready?”

I nodded quickly, hesitantly folding my arms behind his neck. He allowed me to touch him without question or protest. Then, his forehead pressed against mine as he slowly slid himself into me. We both let out a groan at the same time, and the farther he pressed himself in, the more my mouth fell agape. My hands grabbed at his skin, and he once again hushed me. “I know, sweetheart. It’s a bit of a stretch for you, isn’t it? But I have no doubt you can take it.” 

“Oh, God…” I whimpered that with tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. When he was fully sheathed within me, I was holding onto him for dear life as my body adjusted. I had no idea what the anatomy of a Kai was like, but something like this was completely unexpected. I could see him sweating, using every fibre of his being to hold himself back until I was ready. Finally, I let out a deep exhale and said, “you… can move. Go ahead.” 

He wasted no time. He pulled himself almost all the way back out, and then pressed himself back in. He did it again and again at a slow pace. On his face was a look of pure ecstasy as he acquainted his body to mine, and then his eyes stared down at me. He leaned back just enough to push one of my legs up against my torso, and at that moment, I knew I was quite literally fucked. As he stared down at me, he said, “This… is a sight I could very much get used to.”

I didn’t get much time to look at his physique before he started driving himself into me down to the hilt. The whines and groans that were pouring out of my mouth were loud and lewd, my hands searching for anything and everything to grab ahold of. The pace he was moving at was forcing me upwards with every thrust, and he looked like he was in a state of complete bliss. It didn’t take long for me to be pushed over the edge, which made him groan in a way that could’ve made me do it again if I had the physical ability. I saw him smirk as he said, “Gods, that was amazing. I wonder how many times I can make you do that?”

I saw an idea flash past his eyes, and he was quick to remove himself from me before turning me onto my stomach. He grabbed my hips, pulling them upwards with a feral look in his eyes. I was looking back at him as he plunged himself into me once again, taking up the same brutal pace as before. He leaned over me, mouth just inches from my ear as he growled, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as divine as this before. You must be from heaven. I’m wholeheartedly convinced.” 

“Y-You…” I could barely speak. The sheer amount of girth was hitting every single spot it could find. It was sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve in my body. I could barely mewl out, “so… good.” 

“You poor thing. You can barely speak, can you?” He bit my neck, which triggered an immediate moan. “Heh. You like being mercilessly dominated by a god, don’t you?”

His pace didn’t falter, not even as he spoke. My body was contorted, chest against the bed and hips in the air. Between breaths, I responded, “I-I… I do.”

Then, he grabbed both of my wrists and pinned them behind my back with one hand. With the other, he had a bruising grip on my hip as he asked, “And what God is giving you the privilege to feel such pleasure?”

His pace was unforgiving. I came undone again as soon as he said that, which made him grunt. My brain was having trouble formulating words, but I cared little.  No one I had ever done anything with made me feel anything close to what I was feeling. I whined, “You.”

He snapped his hips into me particularly hard as he ordered, “Louder. Tell me who you belong to!” 

I yelled out, “You, Zamasu!”

“Good girl.” His pace stopped for a matter of seconds as he flipped me onto my back again, plunging himself into me as he delivered a violent kiss to my lips. One of his hands remained on my hip, and the other tangled itself in my hair. He was overwhelming me, and the only thing I could think about or feel was him. My body was in a constant state of pleasure. I couldn’t have even known if I’d come or not. What got my attention was when his pace became much less rapid and disorganized, and he couldn’t continue kissing me. His head fell to rest against the crook of my neck, and my nails raked down his back. 

“Oh, Gods,” he groaned that right into my ear, which caused me to groan in response. With a few more hard thrusts, his pace slowed. He came to a complete stop deep within me. He must’ve hit a climax himself. Both of us were covered in sweat, and he caught his breath much faster than I could catch my own. He said in a sultry voice, “I’m surprised. You took that very well.” 

I opened my eyes just a sliver to look at him. My voice was so quiet that I doubted anyone could’ve heard it. “Thank… you.” 

“I think I’m going to stay here for a while.” I could see a satisfied smile on his face. I felt his body relax, and he held my head against the crook of his neck. “If you don’t mind, that is.” 

“No… I don’t.” Laying there with him, as he stroked my hair, I could feel myself falling asleep. Being in such close proximity with him - being in his arms - it made me feel untouchable. To be the one exception. The one treasure. “I don’t mind…”

“Hush. You’re rambling, dear.” 

“I... sorry…”

“It’s alright.” I felt him press another kiss to my forehead. Yes, safe. That’s the way I felt. To sleep in the arms of a God… it was nothing I ever expected to happen. “Sleep, darling. No harm will come to you so long as I’m with you. That, I promise.” 

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 17 - To Watch The Dying of the Day

Summary: Say, isn't it strange? I am still me, and you are still you. In this place. Isn't it strange how people can change? From strangers to friends, friends into lovers. To strangers again.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters  Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: Oh gosh, it's been so long! A mixture of burnout and chaos will do that to a girl. But it's here, coming in at a strong 7k words. It's on the shorter side, especially since my previous chapters have been anywhere between 10-13k words. But this chapter is transitioning us back into the main story. So do with that information as you will, its going to be a bumpy ride....

TW: None really, just hella angst.

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw 

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

StoryTags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, John?” Abigail’s voice echoed through the camp as the tent flaps were shoved open harshly by the young man, who only ignored her comment. He was making a beeline for the one person he needed to complete his team—the one person he knew would stand by his side to enact revenge on the men who nearly took his brother's life.

Kate was chopping celery and carrots for an afternoon stew when she heard the heavy footsteps of John approaching. His gaze was determined, each step fueled with a fiery purpose. She glanced up to see Abigail standing not far behind him, arms crossed in frustration, throwing her hands in the air as John continued to ignore her protests. Kate already knew what he was going to ask of her.

John had found Colm O’Driscoll’s hideout, and he was ready to take action.

Kate placed the knife down with a sigh. Since their return from Emerald Ranch, things had been relatively calm. At least as calm as life could get when you were running with a bunch of outlaws, hanging onto the threads of some "plan" by a man she barely trusted. When they arrived back from their trip, Sean and the boys had planned a small party for Arthur—a ‘Celebration of Life,’ the ambitious Irishman had called it. Though it was more likely just another excuse to drink beer, dance, and be rowdy.

They used the get-together as an opportunity to tell the others about their relationship. Kate drank and sang with the girls, talking with them into the late hours of the night about her time with Arthur. Their small circle was filled with ‘aww’s’ and teasing glances. Kate felt a weight lifted off her shoulders after telling them, like somehow their relationship was finally real now that the rest of the gang knew—at least the ones most important to her.

Arthur was gradually reintegrated into jobs and missions, starting with small fishing trips and eventually moving on to more lucrative endeavors like robbing stagecoaches. Kate protested at first, trying to convince him there were safer ways to make money, but she knew she couldn't take the thrill of the heist out of the outlaw so easily. Arthur found work where he could, especially when Dutch wasn’t ordering him around. All of Arthur’s worries about being replaced seemed to dissipate in the days after his return. Dutch, ever the charmer, appeared overjoyed that Arthur was making a steady recovery and happy that his son found some happiness in a woman. He couldn't resist leaving Arthur with a gentle reminder that their priority was, and still is, to make enough money to escape. Arthur assured him with a promise: he would see it done.

This morning, Dutch sent Arthur, Sean, and Micah into Rhodes to meet up with Bill. Sheriff Gray wanted to speak with them about some work, and Arthur felt mighty proud to be involved, given his month-long absence. After breakfast, Kate pulled him aside for a few quick good-luck and be-safe kisses. It had become a new habit of theirs, since alone-time was rarely granted. They always made sure to say goodbye when one was leaving for a job, sealed with a kiss and a hug.

Kate looked up at John from under the brim of her hat, wishing in that moment Arthur was there to set him straight. But she knew nothing was going to change the young outlaw’s mind.

“Kate,” John greeted with a nod, his tone indicating he was ready to say more.

Wiping her hands on her raggedy apron, she leaned against the cutting table. “Fine afternoon, ain’t it, John?” she said with a smile, squinting up at the sun.

John wasted no time. “We’re ridin’ out today, to Hanging Dog Ranch. You coming?”

“Is that so?” She sighed. “What for?” Kate’s voice carried a hint of feigned ignorance. She knew why, but she was still trying to find it in herself to say no.

Since their ride back from Emerald Ranch, Kate had wrestled with Arthur’s words. She knew revenge was foolish, but seeing the way it had changed him cut her so deep she feared she would carry that rage with her for a long time. It was the same rage she felt years ago when she lost everything. Back then, her anger often consumed her, but over time she learned how to control it, to use it to protect herself and others. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to keep her word to Arthur, but also to protect him.

“You know why, Kate,” John’s voice grew stern, pulling her from her thoughts. “Colm’s men are up there. This is our chance.”

Kate’s heart clenched. She wanted to protect Arthur, to ensure that what happened to him never happened to anyone again. But she also knew that succumbing to vengeance could destroy her just as easily as it could destroy their enemies.

“John,” she began, her voice wavering slightly, “I promised Arthur I wouldn’t get swept up in this mess.”

John’s expression softened a moment, but his resolve remained firm. “I get it, Kate. But we need you. If we don’t take this chance, we might not get another.”

Kate huffed and lowered her voice so only he could hear, “Does Dutch know about this? Doesn’t he have a plan to get back at Colm?” She tried to make him see reason in her questions.

John only shook his head. “To hell with his plans. The way I see it, Colm doesn’t see us as a threat anymore. He tried to lay a trap and set the law on us. Well, he fucked around and it's about time he found out.”

Kate rolled her eyes at John’s ambitious statement. “John, no. I can’t go through with this and you shouldn't either.” She planned to leave him with that, pulling the apron over her head and starting to walk away.

John grunted and followed behind her, his frustration growing more evident. “C’mon, Kate, quit pussyfootin’ around. We need you, and we’re losing daylight.”

Kate turned and saw behind him as the others began saddling their horses and loading their weapons. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw Sadie packing her saddlebags, and her heart began to race as Lenny waited proudly on the back of his stallion, ready to take off at a moment's notice. Charles was there too, making his way over to see what the hold-up was. She was surprised to see this was the group that would be leading the charge. But, after all, these were Arthur’s closest and most trusted comrades.

Consequently, they were also the people Kate cared for deeply and saw as her own family. They were all putting themselves in harm's way for the sake of revenge.

“What would Arthur say about this?” Kate said finally.

Charles had finally caught up to them and heard the last bit of the conversation. “Arthur would say revenge is a fool’s game,” he stated.

“Exactly, thank you Char-”

“But those are his words, not mine,” Charles interrupted.

Kate pinched the bridge of her nose as John continued his persuasion. “Arthur’s the goddamn fool. We need to strike back, now. What if they come after us again? What if this time Colm takes one of the girls, or you?”

Kate felt the weight of John’s words settling heavily on her shoulders. The thought of Colm’s men taking her or any of the other women gnawed at her heart. She couldn’t deny the logic in John’s argument, even if it went against Arthur’s wishes.

Looking past the two men, she saw Lenny waving to her as if simply asking, "What are you waiting for?" John must have told them she would be joining, as Sadie looked over in anticipation, already holding Lorena’s reins, ready to leave as soon as Kate gave the word.

“Charles,” she began, her voice deep with conviction, “you’ve got a level head. This is a bad idea. How could you go through with this?”

Her words came out with a bite, unintended, but they stung nonetheless. Charles had always been a beacon of reason, often the one she or Arthur leaned on in times of need.

Charles' response betrayed no hurt, only his own sense of determination. “These bastards deserve it. Arthur suffered enough.” 

Kate found herself seething at his words, anger bubbling up like black coffee neglected over a fire for too long. The gang knew Arthur better than she did, Kate understood that much. But nobody had watched him suffer like she had. Night after endless night, holding his broken body and cradling him as she willed with all her strength that the pain and tortuous nightmares would cease. Her thoughts drifted to the night of their shared intimacy, seeing how Colm had broken him in unimaginable ways.

Nobody understood the extent of his suffering, except for Kate.

“Sadie suffered by them too,” Charles added after a moment. 

“We’ve all suffered from the O’Driscolls!” John exclaimed with a defeated sigh. “Choose your battles, Kate. But we’re going to send a message to Colm, whether you come or not.”

The two men turned to walk away, their boots kicking up dust as they marched back to their horses, saddled and ready for battle. Moments later, a third pair of footsteps fell in time behind them.

Kate had made her choice.

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The dry spell had lingered for well over a month, and the oppressive heat of Lemoyne had turned the air into a stifling, dusty haze. The town of Rhodes lay beneath a thick, barren cloud of yellow dust, each gust of wind sending particles stinging into Arthur’s throat and eyes, making them water. The winds whipped past him as he spurred Belle forward, urging her faster and faster. His grip on the reins was white-knuckled, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as he tried to steady his racing heart.

The Sheriff had caught on to their schemes, and set them up in Rhodes. Sean had paid the ultimate price with a bullet between the eyes. The image of Sean’s lifeless body was seared into Arthur’s mind, a haunting image he knew would never leave him. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the relentless memory that played over and over like a broken motion picture. Sean had been on the cusp of becoming a man, his 24th birthday just a few months away. Though Arthur gave him grief since the day he joined their gang, deep inside he saw the ambitious Irishman as his younger brother. 

The irony of the situation gnawed at Arthur’s consciousness. Sean had warned them it was a setup. He had sensed something was off from the moment they entered the sleepy town, but both Arthur and Micah had dismissed his concerns as mere paranoia. Now, anger swelled in Arthur's belly, especially toward Micah. As much as he despised the shady outlaw, Arthur couldn’t deny that he wouldn’t have made it out alive without his help. Micah recognized that Arthur’s injuries had hindered his abilities, though his accuracy remained as deadly as ever. Together, they had picked off nearly every lawman and trigger-happy drunk who stood in their way, barely escaping with Bill in tow. Arthur knew his disability had slowed him down, and he blamed himself for Sean’s loss. 

The escape was a blur of gunfire and chaos. Arthur's mind raced with the events of the ambush, replaying each moment as a jarring blend of fear and fury. Belle's hooves thundered against the ground, each stride a desperate attempt to outrun the mix of anger, guilt and shame that threatened to overwhelm him. The acrid taste of dust and blood lingered in his mouth, a reminder of the violence they had scarcely escaped.

As they galloped through the barren landscape, Arthur's thoughts turned to Kate. He knew she would be waiting for him back at camp, a small comfort amidst the chaos. But the moment of peace would be short lived, they would have to leave again, and soon. The law would catch up to them in a matter of days. 

The thought of facing Dutch made Arthur cringe inwardly. Dutch would undoubtedly demand a report of what happened, and Arthur knew it could go one of two ways: Dutch might dismiss the incident, as he had when Arthur previously warned about their increasing sloppiness and the Pinkertons closing in. Or he might tuck-tail and opt for retreat to a new hideout, favoring the path with the fewest casualties. Either way, Arthur was in for an earful back at camp. He silently hoped that someone would go back for Sean, praying he wouldn't be discarded in a mass grave. Every man deserved a proper burial, but for people like him and his gang, it was a luxury rarely granted. 

As Clemens Point came into view, a deep sense of unease settled over Arthur. The camp seemed unusually quiet, devoid of the usual bustle and chatter. An eerie silence had taken its place. He panicked for a moment, what if the law had found them while he was away?

Arthur barely had time to dismount before Abigail came running towards him, tears streaming down her face. Dutch was close behind her, his expression grim. A chill ran down Arthur's spine.

Abigail grabbed Arthur's arm, her voice trembling with panic. “Arthur, they took Jack! Someone took Jack!” she cried, her eyes wild with fear.

Dutch placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though his eyes were hard with determination. “We’ll get him back, Abigail. I promise you that,” he said firmly.

Arthur opened his mouth to explain what had happened in Rhodes, but the urgency of the situation left no room for words. His mind was whirling with this new information, trying to piece together what happened while he was away. There was a moment of silence, and Arthur’s heart skipped a beat as he realized Kate was also nowhere to be seen.

“Who took him?” Arthur said finally, his voice betrayed no hint of the unease he was feeling.

Hosea stepped forward, his expression was dire. “We believe the Braithwaites have taken Jack. They’ve been gunning for us ever since we crossed them,” he explained.

“Where is my son?” Abigail shouted. “If anything–oh God,” she choked on the words. “Where is my son Dutch!” 

“We will find him,” Dutch affirmed, clenching his jaw, eyes blazing with resolve. “We’ll make that Braithwaite bitch pay for this.” He surveyed the three men as Bill and Micah stood awkwardly nearby, unsure what to say. “What the hell happened to you three? Where’s Sean?”

Arthur took in Hosea’s words and then let out a breath as he shook his head. “They set us up, Dutch. Sheriff Gray killed Sean, nearly got Bill too. We shot up half the town trying to escape. If we’re not careful about this, we’ll surely be caught by the law.” They were in deep shit now, both families were gunning for them. They couldn't afford another casualty, let alone young Jack. The situation tore at his heart. 

Dutch’s eyes darkened, his mouth set in a tight line. Arthur recognized that look—it was the look of a man out of options. “We’re getting that boy back, Arthur, or so help me God—”

At that moment, the thunderous sound of hooves echoed down the path to their hideout. Arthur's hand hovered over his revolver, his mind still in fight-or-flight mode. As the riders emerged from the trees, he saw John leading the group, with Kate at the rear. A wave of relief washed over him; at least the law hadn't caught up to them yet. But as they drew closer, Arthur noticed Kate's clothing was stained with blood. His relief quickly turned to a mix of worry and dread.

As John dismounted, Abigail flung herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “They took him, John! They took our boy!” she cried, her voice breaking with desperation. John shot a confused look at Arthur, his own emotions swirling with shock and concern. He held onto Abigail, trying to process the chaos around him.

Dutch's voice cut through the commotion like a knife, demanding answers. “How nice of you to finally show up. Where have you lot been?”

“Taking care of business,” John replied dryly, his grip on Abigail tightening as he tried to make sense of the unfolding crisis. The air was thick with urgency and panic, even the winds seemed to hold their breath, anticipating the next move.

“What business?” Dutch spat, his agitation palpable as he glared at his returning crew members. The tension crackled like electricity in the air, setting everyone on edge.

Arthur's heart pounded in his chest, the rapid beat echoing the chaos of his thoughts. Sean's death, the ambush, Jack's disappearance, and the blood on Kate’s clothes all swirled in his mind. He moved with heavy, purposeful steps toward Kate, his focus narrowing to her alone. He tuned out the escalating argument between Dutch and John, his attention solely on the woman he loved.

“Kate,” he called, his voice rough from the dry air and his mounting anxiety.

She turned at the sound of her name, immediately reading the worry etched into Arthur’s face. Noticing her bloodied clothing, she quickly reassured him, “It’s not my blood.”

Relief flooded Arthur, and he pulled her into a tight hug, inhaling her familiar scent. The rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest provided a momentary solace amidst the turmoil.

“What’s going on?” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear as she pulled away slightly.

“Rhodes was a trap. They set the law on us, Sean’s dead,” Arthur briefly explained, his voice heavy with grief. Kate gasped softly, her eyes widening. “We just got back, and Jack’s missing. Hosea thinks it was the Braithwaites.”

Kate stood speechless, feeling the weight of the world crashing down around her. "Oh, Arthur, we have to—"

Arthur gripped her arms fiercely, his eyes burning with a mix of confusion and betrayal. Desperation etched into every line of his face. “Where were you, Kate?” he demanded, his voice laced with hurt and anger.

He hadn’t meant for the words to come out with such force, but his mind was a whirlwind of doubts and anxiety. Jack could be dead for all he knew. The thought of an innocent child being involved in this nightmare gnawed at his soul. Despite everything, Arthur blamed himself for Jack's disappearance. He cursed himself for not ensuring someone was watching over the boy when he left. Normally, there were plenty of people he and Abigail trusted with Jack, but those people had been gone nearly as long as he had. He desperately needed an explanation for her absence.

Kate pulled away from his grip but held his hands tightly, her gaze filled with guilt. Arthur’s heart began to sink, a cold dread settling in his stomach. “We were up at Hanging Dog Ranch,” she breathed. “Where Colm’s men were hiding.”

Arthur’s gaze hardened, a cold look crossing over his features. “I don’t s’ppose you were there to play hooky?” he spat, sarcasm dripping from his words. He felt the world spinning around him, losing Sean, losing Jack, and now, feeling a profound sense of betrayal from the woman he loved.

Kate shook her head quietly, her cheeks flushing pink with shame. “Arthur, I—”

Arthur’s grip on her hands tightened momentarily before he let go. “You promised me, Kate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You promised you wouldn’t get involved with Colm.”

Kate’s heart shattered at the pain in his eyes. “I know, and I am so sorry. But I thought—”

“You thought what?” Arthur interrupted, his voice rising with a mix of anger and fear. “You thought this would help? That getting yourself killed would make things better?”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling slightly. “I just wanted to protect you and the others from those terrible people.”

“That is not your job, Kate!” Arthur shouted, and Kate flinched, taking a step back from him.

Arthur let out a breath, shaking his head, the betrayal cutting deep. “You just don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand what it does to me, seeing you put yourself in danger like that.”

“I see you put yourself in danger every day,” she answered meekly, her voice wavering with a mix of fear and frustration.

“Don’t make this about me,” he said sharply. “I trusted you to keep that promise.” The life he lived, the life she had joined, was a dangerous one. And Kate wouldn’t be the first woman he lost to such violence. Born from a promise that he broke, costing the life of his family. If he had lost her and Jack in the same night, he feared what he would unleash upon himself.

“I’m sorry Arthur,” Kate breathed deeply, tears finally spilling over and streaming down her cheeks. There was an old selfish ache deep in her soul, a desperate need to make them suffer for taking someone from her. Her fear of loss drove her every thought, every action, every breath. It had consumed her, nearly losing herself during Arthur’s recovery. Kate had never known anything but grief and loss. Holding on so tightly to her sliver of happiness that she was smothering it. Her selfish need cost her Arthur’s trust. 

“Kate,” his voice was softer now, laced with deep sorrow. Arthur shook his head, “I can’t go through this again.” His eyes softened, though the hurt remained. 

Kate opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She felt a dark sense of dread, knowing that despite her intentions she had broken his trust and his heart. 

The weight of the moment pressed heavily upon them, a suffocating silence settling in. Arthur’s eyes, filled with a mix of anger and hurt, searched hers. The pain of his words, the pain of her actions, it all mingled together in a storm of emotions that neither of them could escape. A deeper love that remained unspoken.

Before she could find the words to make things right, Dutch’s voice boomed across the camp. “We’re not waiting another damn minute! Mount up, we’re riding out to get Jack back now!”

Arthur turned away, his expression unreadable. “I’m glad that you’re home safe. I wish I could say the same for Jack,” he said, walking over to mount his mare once more. The other boys were saddling up, the tension in the air thick with anticipation.

Kate stood in stunned silence, tears streaming down her face. The fear of losing Arthur, the guilt of breaking her promise, and the terror of what lay ahead gnawed at her. She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness as she watched Arthur ride off into the night, leaving her standing there with her heart in pieces.

As she watched the men race down the winding path out of Clemens Point, she noticed Abigail's trembling form. Abigail was using her apron to wipe the tears that stained her cheeks. Kate swallowed her sorrow, pushing down her own broken heart. This was about Jack and Abigail.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

“I bet this has something to do with why you got shot to hell in town.” John’s voice broke Arthur from his clouding thoughts. The trees raced past them in a blur, and Arthur hadn’t even realized his brother was riding right beside him.

Arthur’s mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and turmoil. The events of the day had left him feeling raw and exposed. The setup in Rhodes, Kate’s actions, and now Jack’s abduction—all of it weighed heavily on him. The feeling gnawing at his insides.

“I don’t want to think about that right now, John,” he answered, trying to push the memory of Sean's lifeless body out of his mind. “We have to focus on Jack.”

John’s voice rose with anger, a mirror of Arthur's own inner turmoil. “I swear, I’ll kill every single one of them.” The desperation in his voice was palpable, and Arthur could sense the fear behind his brother's bravado.

Dutch’s voice called from the front of the line, a forced calmness trying to steady the group. “Easy, John. Try to stay calm. We’ll make them pay for this.”

“What about the plan, Dutch? Isn’t this family sitting on gold?” Bill’s voice cut through the night, his ulterior concerns evident.

Hosea answered, his tone grim and weary. “I hate to break it to you, but there is no gold. I’ve turned every stone. If they ever had any, it's gone.”

“For Christ’s sake, Hosea, after everything? Another perfect plan fed to the dogs,” John retorted, his voice laced with bitter frustration. Arthur felt the same anger bubbling up inside him—another one of Dutch’s schemes that had led them into danger and kept them on the run from the law.

“We underestimated them,” said Hosea, his voice heavy with regret and concern.

“No, they underestimated us!” Dutch roared, his voice echoing through the trees. “Enough talk. There’s no point arguing how we got here. This is where we are. And we are going to kill every one of those inbred trash.”

Arthur’s grip tightened on the reins, his knuckles white with tension. The thought of what lay ahead mixed with a fierce determination to bring Jack back safely. His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat of anxiety and resolve. As they rode on, the night closed in around them, a shroud of darkness and danger. The only sounds were the thunder of hooves and the heavy breathing of their mounts. Arthur’s mind was a storm of emotions, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him.

The ride to Braithwaite Manor was filled with a tense silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. Arthur’s mind kept drifting back to Kate. They were close now, and there was no turning back. Jack’s life was at risk. The stakes were higher than ever, and the weight of their mission rested heavily on his heart. There was no room for distraction or hesitation.

Dutch’s voice broke through the silence, a final order before the storm. “Nobody makes a move until I say so. Follow my lead.”

The tension in the air was electric as they approached the manor, each man ready for the fight of their lives. As they dismounted, Arthur’s thoughts turned briefly to Kate once more. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate couldn’t sleep. The lamp was down to the midnight oil in the small green canvas tent that the Marstons called home. She had stayed with Abigail while the men were out in search of Jack. She couldn’t tell how long they had been gone; her weary mind drifted in and out of consciousness. She tried to stay alert for their arrival, or for anyone else who might try to abduct another member of their gang.

Abigail slept beside her, her cheeks tinted pink from tears. She clutched Jack's nightgown tightly to her chest, inhaling the scent of her child, her whole world. Kate understood that feeling. She looked down at her hands, the dim light flickering across her fingers. Old blood was dried into the cracks of her nails. Images flashed before her eyes of the violence that had defined her day. She had unleashed herself on Colm’s men, disregarding her promise. And consequently, she had neglected the safety of those left behind at camp.

An acidic queasiness settled in her belly. It had felt good to kill those men. By some miracle, or perhaps coincidence, she had found Arthur’s captors amongst the men hiding at the ranch. The two men had recognized her, though she had no idea how. They had never met before. But like most cocky men, they boasted about Arthur’s torture and the pain they would inflict upon her. Little did they know who she was.

Keeping them alive as the last two men standing, Kate gave them the same courtesy they had given Arthur. She made sure they would never use their arms again, and strung them up by their ankles. Finally, she sliced open their bellies, their blood draining like pigs for the slaughter. Her friends watched in cautious silence. And when she was done, she mounted Lorena, and together they left the ranch without so much as another word.

It was justice, Kate tried to convince herself. But no, it was a deep selfishness. One that an old friend had stoked like flames to a fire. Perhaps it was in her nature, to lose lives and take them. All of the people Kate was, and tried to be, were always a part of her. The mother, the nurturer, the defender, and the killer.

She regretted her actions, but selfishly, she would do it all again. The thrill of revenge had brought her a temporary sense of control, a fleeting moment where she felt powerful in a world that constantly threatened to strip her of everything she held dear. But as she sat in the tent, the reality of her choices weighed heavily on her. She wasn’t sure if she could ever reconcile the different parts of herself—the woman who longed for peace and the one who couldn’t escape the violence that had shaped her life.

Exhaustion finally overcame her. The flickering light of the lamp faded as she drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by the faces of the men she had killed and the fear of what might come next.

When Kate awoke the next morning, the first light of dawn seeped through the tent’s seams. She reached out instinctively, but the space beside her was empty. Abigail was gone. Panic gripped her heart as she sat up quickly, straining to hear the muffled voices outside the tent.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur stood at the back of the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces around the small wooden table where Dutch sat, the tension palpable in the air. Dutch was deep in thought, the weight of leadership pressing heavily on his shoulders as the gang awaited his orders. Abigail stood silently next to John, her face a mask of fury and desperation. Her tears had dried, replaced by a seething anger at the men she had trusted to protect her family, now arguing over their next move.

The Braithwaites didn’t have Jack. They had passed him off to a man named Angelo Bronte. Arthur’s mind raced with strategies for their next step. Bronte was supposedly in Saint Denis, the heart of the new modern America, where law was heavily enforced, and policemen patrolled every corner. They needed to be cautious. Any misstep could end with them at the end of a rope, and that wouldn’t help Jack at all.

As Arthur idly rubbed his wounded arm, the pain a constant reminder of his recent ordeal, he replayed the events of the night over and over in his mind. They had stormed the Braithwaite manor, killing everyone who stood in their way. But they had been too late. Dutch had shot Catherine Braithwaite without hesitation and ordered the house to be burned to the ground. An entire empire, a long-standing family, wiped out in an instant. 

He was lost in his thoughts when a gentle touch on his arm brought him back to the present. Turning around, he found himself face to face with Kate. The memory of her actions, the betrayal he felt, and the look in her eyes were too much to bear. He quickly averted his gaze.

“Arthur,” she began quietly, her voice trembling with worry. “Where is Jack? Is he—”

Arthur shook his head, cutting her off. “They didn’t have him,” he said curtly.

“W-what did you find?” she stuttered, her voice edged with panic.

He knew he was being cruel by withholding details, but the turmoil inside him made it difficult to be gentle. With a sigh, he turned to face her again. “They handed him off to some Bronte fellow. Jack is somewhere in Saint Denis.”

“I don’t understand, why would they do this? What do we do now?” she asked, her voice rising in desperation.

Arthur gestured towards the group of men who were still arguing heatedly. “They’re working on it,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Feeling incredibly defeated, Arthur’s thoughts were a blend of frustration and sorrow. He had thought things were getting better. After nearly dying from sepsis, he had started to find comfort and joy in Kate’s presence. But now, everything seemed to be falling apart. Sean’s death had barely been processed, overshadowed by Jack’s disappearance. His recent fight with Kate had left a gaping hole in his heart, the urge to mend things with her gnawing at him. But there was no time for feelings right now.

The gang was on the brink of a precipice, and Arthur knew they needed to act quickly and decisively. As much as he wanted to fix things with Kate, Jack’s safety had to come first. Pushing down his own emotions, he focused on the task at hand, knowing that every moment they delayed could bring them closer to disaster.

“It’s gonna work out, John,” Hosea’s voice joined the commotion, his tone reassuring. “Jack will be fine. Just listen to Dutch.”

Dutch’s voice cut through the din, authoritative and calm. “I don’t expect you to understand this, but I need your trust. Your word, now more than ever. No more running off behind my back. I know you were trying to do the right thing—”

“If I don’t get that boy back safe, I’m—” John shot a glance at Abigail, who stood trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “She’ll kill us all.”

“Looking at this logically, that boy is fine. They only took him to scare us. Nobody takes a child to harm him,” Dutch continued, his words meant to be comforting but failing to ease the tension.

“It’s true, John,” Hosea chimed in, placing a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. “Arthur, what do you think?”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head slightly. They were all trying to be strong for John, but deep down, they were just as scared. They’d seen what this world could do to children. The cruelties of their life were too real, too close. There was no guarantee Jack was safe.

“The boy will be fine,” Arthur lied, trying to steady his voice. “But of course, Marston’s scared rotten. We killed all those people, stirred up all that trouble…for nothing.”

Dutch scoffed from his seat. “No. No, not for nothing. For living. We get that boy back, and we go. It’s about time we leave this place. Trust me.”

Suddenly, Lenny’s voice boomed from the camp entrance. “Dutch! We’ve got a problem!” He shouted, rifles raised and pointing at two strangers who walked into camp with their hands held high.

Arthur’s mouth went dry. It was the Pinkertons. Agent Ross and Agent Milton.

“Not a problem, visitors. We come with a solution,” Milton said coldly, his demeanor relaxed and confident. His gaze found Arthur’s. “Ah, Mr. Morgan. Nice to see you again.”

Instinctively, Arthur stepped in front of Kate, shielding her from whatever was about to unfold. The other gang members began to surround the two agents, their suspicion evident. Dutch betrayed no hint of surprise, remaining seated comfortably.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?” Dutch said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but this is a civilized land now. We didn’t kill all them savages only to allow the likes of you to act like human dignity was not yet invented,” Milton explained, his disdain palpable. “This thing? It’s done,” he spat.

Dutch finally rose from his seat, confronting the agent. “This land was never civilized. It’s consumed with man’s love for greed.”

“And that lets you take what you please? Kill whom you please and hang the rest of us? Who made you the messiah to these lost souls you’ve led astray?” Milton retorted coldly.

“I’m nothing but a seeker, Mr. Milton,” Dutch replied.

“You’re nothing but a bunch of killers. But I came here to make a deal; you come with me and I’ll give the rest of you three days to run off and disappear. I’m giving you one last chance to live like decent human beings.” Milton’s voice rose, addressing everyone in the gang.

A bitter chuckle rose from Dutch’s throat. “Ain’t that a fine thing? You risked death by coming into a den of murderers and thieves to have me. And to give them the chance to live and love?”

Kate remained quiet behind Arthur, her hand ready to draw her pistol at a moment's notice. But she sensed that this man, this detective, was telling the truth. Why would he risk so much for one man unless he was out of options?

“I don’t want to kill all these people, Dutch. Just you,” Milton answered, his resolve unwavering.

Dutch raised his hands, a hint of mockery in his voice. “In that case, I’d be happy to join you, Agent Milton.” As he stepped closer to the detective, everyone simultaneously began to draw their pistols.

Kate watched the moment unfold with genuine concern and admiration. These people, Arthur’s gang, were willing to risk everything for one man. Their loyalty and dedication ran deeper than she could ever imagine.

It was Ms. Grimshaw who leveled her shotgun and gave the final orders. “I think it’s time our new friends leave.”

Agent Milton raised his hands once more as Lenny and Javier began to escort them out of camp. “You’re making a big mistake, all of you!”

“The only mistake is how you keep following us. Good day, sir,” Dutch said, turning away, suddenly unbothered.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. And when I return, all of you will die. Run away from this place, you fools!” Milton’s tone carried a desperate warning. As he turned to leave, his gaze locked with Kate’s for a moment. He narrowed his eyes, trying to piece together her familiar face, but Javier’s gun pushed him along.

“How dreadful,” Dutch chuckled as he returned to his seat.

Arthur approached Dutch quickly, his steps heavy with the weight of the situation. “What now?”

“We get out of here. Have the women start packing. I’m sending you and the others to look for a new hideout. We’re running out of time,” Dutch said quietly, his urgency clear.

As Arthur turned to carry out Dutch’s orders, his eyes met Kate’s once more. The pain and fear were mirrored in their gazes. There was no time for reconciliation now. They had a mission to complete, and the stakes had never been higher.

“Arthur, maybe we should consider—” Kate began her voice quiet, searching for the right words to address their precarious situation.

Arthur spun on his heel so fast it made her dizzy. “Don’t. Don’t you even suggest it. You don’t have a say in this anymore, Kate.” His rage towards the Pinkertons and his anxiety about the lives at stake spilled out in hot bursts towards the woman he loved, and he couldn't stop the fire from spreading.

“Excuse me?” she responded, her voice a mix of offense and hurt. “I only want what's best for the gang.”

“The best thing to do now is leave. Go help the women pack,” he ordered, turning away from her.

“When does it end, Arthur? This cat-and-mouse game you have with seemingly every lawman in this country. How many more people have to be killed for it to stop?” Kate’s voice wavered with her fading strength. It was all too much to handle; everything was changing so fast. And now an innocent child was involved. She didn’t know what to do.

Arthur’s voice roared back, “I don’t know! Make up your goddamn mind, Kate. You go back on your word and put a target on your back. And now you want to lecture me on my poor choices? If you’re tired of running, you can leave. I won’t stop you.”

He left her with those words, his steps heavy and final. The men took off without a moment's hesitation, Ms. Grimshaw dishing out orders to begin loading the wagons. Kate felt a bitter moment of déjà vu, back to the day at the Downes ranch. She had scolded him for his actions, as if she were one to reprimand him. Kate had glimpsed the kind of man he truly was that day—the hardened outlaw, the merciless killer. She knew there was a kind heart inside him, and she had fallen in love with that part of him. Convinced herself that she could persuade him to leave it all behind, to give up that title for something softer. Arthur wanted it too, but only now was she beginning to understand the giant inside him. The man who had never known peace, who spent every moment fighting for his life and the lives of his family.

Arthur was consumed by his loyalty, as Kate was consumed by her grief. The realization hit her hard, and she felt a deep, gnawing sorrow. She watched him mount his horse, his back tense with determination and anger. The bitter truth settled over her like a shroud—no matter how much they loved each other, the world they lived in was tearing them apart.

A/N: I hope this chapter was alright! To be honest I went back and forth over this conflict for a while, and I think that’s where the birth of my writers block began. I wasn’t intending for their fight to become so heated, but then i was like “you know what? Their situation is a crock of shit, it can’t all be sunshine and rainbows.”

(Also trying to squeeze this in while simultaneously returning to a major plot point of the game was really hard haha)

So yeah, i may have gotten a bit carried away. But fear not, my summary for this chapter was incredibly dramatic. They’re not breaking up! They just got to figure themselves out, and come to understand one another. I want to make it clear that Kate has just as many flaws as Arthur, and that she suffers in silence too. God these two really need each other 😭

I think this was my first time writing some serious angst that didn’t involve one of them nearly dying (lol). So let me know how I did! It’s been awhile since I updated this story, and sometimes things can get lost to the tricks of time. If you notice any inconsistencies or plot holes please don’t be shy to point them out to me! 🙏❤️

[mostly-marvel-musings]

How about “nope no nada, no using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore” + using sex to get our favorite insomniac Mr. Stank to take a break from work and come to bed?

Old tricks

A/N: I was waiting for this prompt, can’t believe it was in my inbox the whole time and I missed it. Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warning: 18+ sex themes, fluff

.

“How long has it been since he last took a nap, FRI?” You sighed, closing the book you were currently reading before stifling a yawn.

Thirty eight hours and counting, Mrs. Stark.

He was at it again. After promising that he would join you in bed early today, Tony Stark was still in the basement, nose deep in inventing yet another device that would potentially save the universe.

Rolling your eyes you threw the sheets off of your legs, rummaging through your closet to find the oldest trick in the book of ‘Getting your husband to obey’.

A set of lingerie was usually your go to but tonight, you decided on going down to his lab wearing nothing but a silky robe that you planned on discarding the moment he would lay eyes on you.

Overriding his protocol with FRIDAY’S help, you entered his lab and were met with an immediate blast of cold air; it fortunately worked in your favour, pebbling your nipples and making them evident against the flimsy piece of fabric.

Your husband stood hunched over his table that displayed varied diagrams and models with a blue glowing light that made his features appear exhausted. He probably was. Not that he would ever admit.

“Hello husband.”

You murmured, hugging the man from behind and wrapping your arms around his middle, feeling his tight muscles against your soft flesh, the contrast making you frown.

Tony sighed, melting against your touch immediately, as his hands stopped working to cover yours in a reassuring way.

“Are you planning on warming your side of the bed any time soon? Perhaps your wife would like some company too..”

Turning in your arms, he leaned in to kiss your lips in a wordless apology before stopping, his strained eyes grazing down your form, taking you in.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

“What?” You feigned innocence, grabbing his hands and bringing them to the front of your robe, beginning to unfasten the ties.

Letting out a defeated grunt, Tony’s head planted itself against your shoulder, stopping your movements at once.

“Nope. No. Nada. No using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore.” You grinned because his voice lacked conviction, and the fact that he hadn’t pushed you away meant you had already won.

“Isn’t it?”

You smirked, undoing the belt completely now to reveal what the robe barely covered. Opening an eye, Tony drank your glorious self in, not finding enough reason to resist. With your nipples turned into buds and the glistening between your thighs, he was powerless.

Tony Stark simply wasn’t built to resist your persuasion.

Taking the robe off completely, you stepped back and turned to head out of his lab, throwing the robe over the shoulder with a knowledge that it had probably landed on his head.

“You’re just gonna wander around the house naked now?” He called after you, cock stirring in his pants at the sight of your curves sashaying their way out, just for him as you shrugged in response.

“Maybe I’ll try another good old trick. Perhaps that toy you designed for our anniversary?”

There was a curse word uttered under his breath before Tony Stark shut off his lab for the night and made a beeline in your direction, refusing to let his wife pleasure herself with anything that wasn’t his cock or tongue.

Find Part 2 here!

[kacievvbbbb]

Idk why I find the fact Mihawk writes Y/N Reader inserts so funny but so true and I have reader inserts blocked on here like I hate them but oh my god so in character for him.

And he does not give a shit. Absolutely go king and getting fantasy dicked down by all the hot guys in one piece world I support! Also him being a sengoku shipper iconic. I was say maybe he thinks about Kuzan but I think he’s out off by his general laziness and apathy and not in a fun apathetic way like Barsolino in a depression way. ( he’s looking in a mirror and does not like it.) but if he learns Dragon used to be a marine and friends with Akainu he’s making the most toxic relationship of them friends to enemies to nemesis type shit.

He’ll write a new book and it will be a sensation and no matter the fact he changed the names everyone with a brain cell will be able to figure out who it’s about.

Sorry this took so long to reply! but

YES YES YES!!! I don't really like self insert stuff either but it's so in-character for him I'm so obsessed.

And yeah it really is just the adventures of reader as they travel across the grand line getting dicked down is definitely one of his most beloved and acclaimed series. Shanks goes hot and cold on that series a lot because while the idea of watching mihawk getting dicked down by another man is very hot Shanks is also a jealous man and he is very jealous of these "fictional" men. He tries to find out if mihawk has ever fucked any of them in real life and maybe 👀.

Also yeah I just threw in the marine thing because I thought it was funny but I'm glad it stuck out! 😂. I don't think he self ships with any of the marines (maybe in his GILF era sengoku or fujitoro) I think because none of the really strong marines appeal to him but he would fuck smoker if he was stronger. and just because I remembered dude and I think it would be so funny imagine if his only self x marine ship is with Ryokugyu (the tree admiral) I think he'd hate him in life but he's not blind. I think this realllllly pisses shanks off because he does not like him and honestly its a bit of a snake eating his own tail because a lot of the reason he doesn't like him is because of Mihawk's fanfiction of him.

I think Mihawk's natural reaction (mostly because it's mine) is to ship Sengoku with Garp but he hates Garp and even the thought of picturing him in that way is enough to make him want to pour his ears to bleach his brain. I think it be funny if during one of his lackadaisical checking out marine headquarters rooms (because realistically who is going to stop him) he stumbles upon and old picture of Garp Sengoku and Tsuru when they were young and he is very intrigued by thetwo hot young men then he notices that one of them is Garp and he almost throws up, the thought wont leave him alone tho.

Also yes i don't think Mihawk actually knows dragon but he has definitely heard of him and being Garps son is enough cause for pettitness in his eyes. Dragon's identity is a little harder to parse out I the books but Akainu's is so fucking obvious. And it is a loved and well-cherished series. Anytime that Mihawk attends a warlord meeting or just genuinely has an unpleasant interaction with akainu (which is every interaction) he puts pen to paper. It'd be funny if this was the most "tame" series though more focused on the fictional romace which confuses dragon and pisses akainu off even more because what? do they think he can't take it? and mihawk is very pleased with himself. he drops a new edition right before he goes to any warlord meeting so he can watch akainu seethe in real time as the new talk of the town takes root (this series specifically is very popular in marine towns)

as for the real life identities. I think he definitely makes it a bit hard not to protect anyone. Still, because he thinks it's fun to make people guess and adds to the mystery so there is definitely a fan club (which Shanks leads) dedicated to putting the clues together on just who all the different men are (shanks needs this for....research purposes 👀) some of them are obvious if you're in the know like the Benn ones or Crocodile while others are just plain obvious because the Red Haired Emperor is definitely shanks like if you know shanks you know its him there is only two people with hair that red. It's not kidd( it does give both kidd and shanks a bit of a reputation of some islands because his book counterpart is infinitely more dashing and "masculine" that shanks' bum and kid's manica energies) and I think he makes the Akianu ones very obvious to anybody that literally even if you've just ever heard of him you know its him just to fuck with him.