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ravengards-rogue · 1 month

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the evening stretch | warm-up series.

ft. the prompts, nsfw / "dinner" / arthur morgan.

✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+

✧ wc : 2.7k

✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.

this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.

✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.

He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.

Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.

It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.

Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.

It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.

You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.

But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.

You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.

The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.

Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.

"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."

He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.

"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."

"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.

"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"

"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."

He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.

"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."

You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.

"Is that so?"

He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."

"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."

That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.

"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."

"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"

"Trelawny, I'd guess."

You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."

"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"

Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.

You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.

Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.

He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.

"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."

"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."

'"Read my mind, then."

"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"

His smile widens.

"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"

You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.

"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."

You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.

"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"

"I'm afraid I do,"

You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.

"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.

"Burn? You feeling warm?"

"Arthur!"

And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.

"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.

"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."

He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.

"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"

"Sweetheart—"

"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."

"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."

Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."

He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.

Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.

There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.

His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.

It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.

He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.

Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.

"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"

"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"

And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.

You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.

Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.

Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.

He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.

When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.

The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.

Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.

He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.

"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"

Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.

Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.

He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.

You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."

You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.

It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.

His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.

"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"

You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.

And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.

He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.

"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."

Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.

He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.

He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.

He's sure that will always be true.

When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.

And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.

Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.

Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.

You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.

"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."

Arthur beams at you unapologetic.

"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"

You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.

"Insatiable man."

"Only for you, my girl."

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#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 smut #rogues love letters #zero.arthur #this is OUTRAGEOUS. I WAS WARMING UP???#i need to sleep its nearly 8. jesus christ.

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the-oracles-maw · 2 months

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Take Care of Yourself, Luv? Please?

I am sick 🤪

Imagine Simon looking after you when you catch a cold

Imagine whenever he's not on deployment and living out the civilian life, he's constantly pestered by you to look after himself. He's so used to following orders he forgets the orders from his body.

Imagine Simon begrudgingly accepting your need to mother hen the man, to act like the perfect little housewife for him. It's embarrassing, but so endearing.

"What? Yeah, I just got home, luv. Price got us on the run around, I'll tell ya. ... Eh, I don't know what I want for dinner. Whatever you want, alright? ... No, no you don't have to do that... You... luv, you don't need to run me a bath..."

From his natural expertise as a soldier, he can immediately hear it in your voice that you're a bit... sniffly.

"Hey, you feeling alright?"

Imagine him raising his hand to get you to quit fussing over him. He takes off his glove (maybe with his teeth, you decide.) and places his tender, calloused hand on your forehead.

"mmm... a little warm, luv. How long you've been feeling like this?"

You initially brush it off as just a regular old seasonal bug. But imagine your surprise when Simon stops you mid sentence. He gazes down at you with such an unmoving, piercing gaze-

"Getting sick on me, huh? Can't have that. Not on my few days off now."

Don't even think about apologizing for being sick because this man already knows you will.

"Now..." His deep voice, cadenced with that smoldering Manchester accent. "I think you've fussed over me quite enough tonight... How's about daddy fusses over you for a change?"

Imagine this man is slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes to get you to rest on the couch.

He's already pulling out the extra cushions so you can law flat on your back in the living room.

Imagine it being pretty obvious from the start that he's not exactly used to being a caretaker. His comforts are gruff, awkward and somewhat commanding.

"Now I ain't going anywhere till you drink this whole thing, you hear?"

Though quickly, he leans into it.

"See? this what happens when you look after yourself, luv."

He's so smug. He's using the things you'd tell him all the time when he comes home from work exhausted or burnt out, whenever you take care of him like the loving, devoted housewife you are.

Now, it's simply Simon's turn to be the loving, devoted househusband.

It feels weird on him at first, but he starts to have fun with it

Imagine this time, he's running you a nice, warm bath to soak in.

"It'll help your muscles..." He croons into your ear, as that is what you told him every time you ran baths for him, making you roll your eyes. "And... I guess clear up your sinuses, or something..."

Honestly doesn't care about catching what you caught, he's more than happy to hold you if you want him to, when you get lonely all snuggled up on the couch.

perhaps, if you ask him nicely, Simon will carry you around the house while he does chores or work so you won't get lonely. ❤️

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xxx-angie · 2 months

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adamsapple incorrect quotes (featuring angel dust)

@rius-cave

--- Adam, talking about Lucifer: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH THEM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? THEY DID. THEY KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO. --- Adam: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Lucifer: steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely Adam: That one. I want that one. --- Adam: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning. Lucifer: This is a lie. Lucifer: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie. Lucifer: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS. --- Angel, watching Lucifer and Adam from afar: Two Bros, Chillin in a hot tub. Five feet apart because they think they’re not gay, BUT THEY REALLY ARE- --- Angel: So, how long have you and Lucifer been together? Adam: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Lucifer and I are not together. No. No. Angel: Really? Sixteen ‘nos’? Really? --- Lucifer: I can't take this anymore, someone needs to take me out! Adam: In a dating type of way, or an assassination type of way? Lucifer: I don't know, surprise me! --- Lucifer: I can't take this anymore, someone needs to take me out! Adam: In a dating type of way, or an assassination type of way? Lucifer: I don't know, surprise me! --- Adam: BE A BETTER PERSON! Lucifer: WHY?! Adam: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART! --- Lucifer, throwing their head into Adam's lap: Tell me I'm pretty! Adam, lovingly stroking their hair: You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are. --- Lucifer: I think we should kiss. Adam: And I think you should die but we don’t always get what we want. --- Adam: Lucifer and I are no longer dating. Lucifer: Adam, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married. --- Lucifer: Holding up a pack of pencils These are kinda cute. Adam: Lucifer, that’s gay. Lucifer: We’ve been dating for 2 years— --- Adam: We have a problem. Lucifer: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them. --- Lucifer: You have to apologize to them Adam. Adam: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with! --- Lucifer: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing. Adam: Are you a software update? because not right now. --- Adam: How do I tell Lucifer that I want them to yell at me like they're Gordon Ramsay and I'm a poor little chef who just ruined a crème brûlée?

#×angies thoughts×#adam hazbin #lucifer x adam #hazbin adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #adamsapple

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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months

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Nother idea: Wayne & Eddie coming home from a long ass day, tired & stressed, both of them arriving at their trailer at the same time. Both of them taking a deep breath knowing that they'll have to clean up & prepare dinner but both are exhausted. But when they come in their trailer is sparkling clean. The floors swept & mopped, dirty clothes put into the wash, clean clothes folded neatly on the couch in piles for both Eddie and Wayne. Their trailer smells clean & fresh, they turn towards the kitchen & see Steve humming quietly to himself along with the radio on low as he pulls fresh made supper from the oven, on the counters are baked goods cooling. Wayne & Eddie realizing that Steve not only cleaned up their home but he prepared them easy to reheat meals, cleaned up their space bc he knew they'd be exhausted & both of them like the trailer to be clean, but neither had time. So he did it because they are his family & he loves them & wants them to feel safe and cared for in their new home.

MY LOVE! So I kinda ran with a somewhat different background plot, just because it kind of felt like I needed to show that Steve ain't slackin'. I also moved this one ahead of another request because I needed to write Wayne in a sappy way after chapter 2 of demon Steve. Steve was born to be a housewife with guidance counselor tendencies and I don't make the rules. ENJOY! - Mickala ❤️

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Eddie felt the exhaustion fully hit him as soon as he put his van in park.

He’d been working more overtime over the last month to save up for the down payment on the house he and Steve fell in love with.

The government money helped, but it mostly went to medical bills and a new van when his old one had become government property.

Wayne told him to keep as much of it saved as he could. “You never know what life will throw at ya,” he’d said.

Steve had been working a lot too, but was focusing on his classes at the community college, trying to set up a better future for both of them.

It meant that Eddie was pulling a lot of the financial weight right now, that Wayne was doing as much as he could for them so they could actually save up, but it would all be worth it.

Wayne knocked on his window and he blinked his eyes open again.

When had he even closed them?

Eddie opened the door and stepped out, groaning at the ache in his knee. It still wasn’t 100%, probably never would be as long as he was doing physical labor, and today had been particularly rough at the shop.

“Alright, bud?” Wayne asked him, hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Just tired,” Eddie replied.

“You and me both. Let’s go relax a bit.”

But relaxing wouldn’t be on the table until they fixed dinner and cleaned up a bit and Eddie knew the faucet had been leaking when he left this morning and they didn’t need a leak like that running up the water bill, so he should probably try to fix it before bed.

He let Wayne go in first, as always, knowing he’d take longer going up the porch steps.

He could handle walking just fine most of the time, but stairs were a bitch.

He nearly walked right into Wayne when he walked through the front door, the older man standing stock still right in the entrance.

“Wayne? You good?” Eddie asked, his mind suddenly filtering through any number of terrible reasons for his sudden frozen demeanor.

And then he could smell it.

Cookies.

Someone was baking cookies.

And then he saw it.

The living room was completely cleaned and organized, magazines stacked neatly on the table, no crumbs on the couch or carpet, the weird mud stain from Eddie’s boots no longer on the rug by the front door.

He heard the record player going, though the volume was low enough that he could also hear Steve singing in the kitchen.

“Looks like your boy’s been busy,” Wayne smirked over his shoulder at him.

“I don’t-“ Eddie started to say.

“Eds? Wayne? You guys home?” Steve called from the kitchen.

Before they answered, he walked around the corner with an apron on, his glasses perched on his nose, and a beaming smile on his face.

“I just put the lasagna back in the oven to heat up a bit for you. Had to wait for the cookies to come out,” Steve said as he walked towards them.

He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and kissed him on the lips quickly, then pulled away to give Wayne a quick side hug.

“I made some lemonade that should be nice and cold by now. You want some?”

Eddie and Wayne blinked at him, surprise at what was happening rendering them speechless.

“Is everything okay?” Steve’s tone shifted to concern, the smile dropping from his face as he took in their stillness.

“You cleaned?” Wayne asked.

“And cooked?” Eddie asked.

“And baked?” Wayne added.

“My afternoon class was canceled and Keith said he wouldn’t approve overtime for me, so. I came home?” Steve still looked concerned, like he was waiting for one or both of them to start yelling at him.

“Where’s your car?” Wayne asked.

That was a great question. Eddie just realized it wasn’t in the yard, which was half the reason he’d been shocked to see Steve here at all.

“Oh! Max needed to go to therapy. I was already in the middle of baking so I told her she could just use it as long as she was back by eight.”

“So you’ve been cleaning and baking and cooking all afternoon? For us?” Eddie asked, biting back as much emotion as he could.

He was tired and overwhelmed with love and he knew he would start crying if he didn’t contain some of it.

“I just wanted to take care of you guys and take care of our house. You worked all day and I had some free time to do it,” Steve shrugged.

Wayne collected himself first, moving toward Steve and squeezing his shoulder.

“Thanks, son. You don’t know how much I appreciate ya doin’ all this,” he said, voice slightly choked up.

“It’s no problem, Wayne,” Steve replied, face red.

“Mind if I go grab a shower first?” he asked Eddie.

“Fine with me,” Eddie responded.

Wayne nodded once, smiling at them both, and walked to his room to grab clothes for after his shower.

Steve looked up at Eddie shyly.

“Lasagna will be about 20 more minutes if you wanna grab a drink,” he said quietly.

Eddie smirked.

“Some of that lemonade sounds nice,” he played along, knowing exactly where this was going.

No matter how tired or sore he was, he wouldn’t turn down the chance to get his hands on Steve or have Steve’s hands on him.

Steve led him into the kitchen by his hand, tugging him along as he excitedly explained that he’d found the lemons at a farm stand on his way home from work yesterday and considered using them for a cheesecake, but decided this would be better.

Eddie smiled at him fondly, just happy that Steve is happy.

“I’ll get you a glass, just wait right there,” Steve said, pushing him against the counter gently.

But Eddie didn’t let him pull away yet, fisted his shirt and pulled him against his front.

“Eds!” Steve yelped as they made contact.

“I’m sure the lemonade is perfect, but I want a taste of you first, sugar,” Eddie mumbled, leaning down to press his lips against Steve’s.

Steve melted against him, letting Eddie’s tongue past his lips and letting out a low moan when Eddie’s hands squeezed his ass.

“What’re you doing?” he whispered against Eddie’s lips.

“Touching you,” Eddie answered before kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw.

“Wayne though.”

“He’s already in the shower. We got a few minutes.”

“We can’t do much in a few minutes,” Steve said, trying to stifle another moan as Eddie’s fingers untied his apron and slid to the front of his jeans to undo his button.

“You underestimate how hot it is to see you like a little housewife, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled.

Steve slapped his arm.

“Not a housewife.”

“No? You sure seemed happy about cleaning up and cooking for me,” Eddie said as he slid his hands into the waistband of Steve’s boxers.

“Eds,” he gasped, but didn’t stop him as he wrapped his hand around his half-hard cock.

“Get me out, Stevie. Don’t have much time,” Eddie groaned.

Steve did as he was asked, but still seemed hesitant.

Eddie paused.

“You wanna call it?” he asked.

If Steve truly didn’t want to, he knew what to say to stop, and he knew Eddie would stop, no questions asked.

But he shook his head, biting his lip to contain a whimper as Eddie looked down at their cocks and spit.

“Gotta stay quiet, still. Don’t wanna be caught,” Eddie whispered as he leaned in to kiss him again, keep his mouth preoccupied so he didn’t give them away.

He knew Wayne would be at least another 10 minutes, but they both liked the idea of having to stay quiet and be quick.

And quick it was.

They both came in barely two minutes, Eddie riled up from Steve just being Steve, Steve being riled up at the fact they were doing this in the kitchen.

“I just cleaned this floor, you better not have gotten anything on it,” Steve smirked at Eddie as they buttoned themselves back up.

“Promise I’ll clean it up myself if I did.”

“You better. Gonna go shower next?” Steve tied the apron back up, walking over to the fridge to finally get the lemonade.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sore today. Hot water will help.”

Steve turned to him with a furrowed brow.

“You should’ve said, baby. You need some Motrin or something?”

“Nah, maybe after I eat. Got a dose of you to help,” he winked obnoxiously.

“Alright, keep it in your pants,” Steve said as he poured a glass for Eddie and a glass for Wayne.

“You’re the one who had it out a minute ago!”

Steve just gave him a dead-eyed stare before handing him his lemonade.

“Get out of my kitchen.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Eddie saluted.

He took a few sips of the lemonade as he walked towards his bedroom to grab clothes.

It was delicious, as he expected.

Just like coming home to Steve every day.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #request #wayne munson #steve's housewife tendencies

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prettyboyformasks · 6 months

Note

ERAAGGEG RUFF RUFF I WROTE THAT‼️‼️🗣️🔊🔊

— 🐻

hallelujah anyway here's ftm graves x cowboy reader cause the grussy has consumed my life. also cw for feminization and rough sex methinks

"there y' go, darlin'." you purr, your hips rocking ever so slightly as graves finally sinks himself down on the last inch of your thick shaft. "too m.. too much," he breathes, his dull nails digging into the muscle on your chest.

ignoring his pleas for you to slow down, let him adjust, you guide his hips up and down. "oh c'mon now, sugar. don't tell me a pretty thing like you can ride a horse but can't ride a cowboy. it's basically the same thing, ain't it?" you coo as he stops the movement of his hips, depending on your big, rough hands to move his body for him.

he moves a hand from your chest to rub at his clit, moving his fingers in a soothing motion. his hips move ever so gently on their own, desperate to feel the way your tip hits his cervix.

or like

when graves is done with his chores around the farm, shirt unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up his arms. his chest is glistening with sweat, the salty substance dripping down his muscles.

complaining while he bounces on your cock, his muscles hurt :( doesn't stop you from slapping his ass, biting him all over. his tears only encourage your rough behaviour as you push his head into the floor, hay and dirt sticking to his sweaty cheek. "gonna breed you. gonna be a pretty housewife f'me, yeah? raise my sons for me?" you growl as you bully your cock into his leaky cunt, his slick and your precum mixing with the dirt floor and making a little puddle.

can u guys tell i don't write cowboy characters and i am not from the south lololol

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elvisabutler · 7 months

Text

down home southern cookin'

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( fameless big daddy electrician/handyman ) x female original character word count: 3069 warnings: housewife kink. big daddy elvis. pregnant sex. minor pregnancy kink and breastfeeding kink. sex around food ( the food isn't harmed ). p in v sex ( unprotected ). minor praise kink. talk of sweat. bags thumping on floors making you feel things. author’s note: welcome to day 14 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, breastfeeding kink with spark elvis and lilly. so, hi. i've been having a rough go around on actually finishing the main fic but i have made a bit more progress after moving past the block i've had formed for a while. that being said, enjoy this little one shot in the meantime. also if you have no idea what this series/verse is, the masterlist is right here. in addition, i truly do thrive on your comments and messages and love reading them.

"Is that meatloaf 'm smellin' darlin'?"

Lilly hears the door open before she ever hears Elvis's voice but at the sound of his voice, she can feel their children inside her move about, kicking and trying to roll around. It's been getting harder and harder to bend to reach the oven but she manages well enough, free hand on her belly as she opens the oven.

Elvis's thudding steps tell Lilly that he's heading to the kitchen to investigate not entirely unlike a bloodhound and she smiles softly to herself even as the twin she has taken to calling Gladys kicks her square in the rib. Her hand rubs at the spot as she stays bent over looking into the oven when she hears Elvis's whistle, low and appreciative.

"Wasn't expectin' that sorta greetin'. Ain't complainin', though." His voice is pitched low as she hears his bag thump on the floor. The thought of moving to a standing position enters Lilly's mind and yet she's just that slight bit curious as to what Elvis plans on doing.

After all, wasn't the proof of his appreciation for her backside growing healthy and strong within her? Wasn't his appreciation for a warm meal evident by the way so many of her dresses are slightly ruined? Wasn't he her husband not just in theory but in name?

It doesn't take long for her to feel the press of his front against her behind, the warmth of his body seeping through her dress. His hand moves to cup her stomach as he guides her into a standing position, nipping at her ear as she does. "They givin' ya trouble? Gotta get a lecture from Daddy?"

Lilly's laughter is always music to Elvis's ears and today is no exception. His lips curl into a soft smile as he kisses down her neck, hands wandering across her body. She makes no move to remove them. "They only started giving me trouble when they heard you."

"That so?" Elvis hums as one of his hands settles on her breast, squeezing it just light enough that Lilly's mouth falls open in a gasp. "They just missed their daddy as much as their mama did, didn't they? Jus' wanted to say hello."

He's not wrong, Lilly reasons. Jesse is the same way, trying to come crawling at the sound of his Daddy's voice as soon as he hears it if Elvis doesn't beat the boy to it. Still, there's nothing that says she has to boost her husband's ego any more than it already is tonight. It makes it easy to just hum quietly with a small grin on her face.

"They missed daddy, I don't know if mama did." Lilly teases even as she feels Elvis's hand tighten on her breast and feels the hand that had been cupping her lower stomach move ever so slightly lower. "I had the best company all day."

A huff of his warm breath tickles the hair on the back of her neck as he starts to use his hand to pull up her dress. "Jesse asleep?"

He knows it's too early for Jesse to be asleep, knows that Lilly keeps his son up just so that he can give him a kiss goodnight and help get him ready for bed even if he ran late arriving home. Yet, he feels the need to ask, to make sure Jesse isn't crawling around underfoot in a way that gets him into trouble. Elvis knows he should be a good husband and take a shower and make it so Lilly can rest her aching little sooties. Even with them not in heels he can see them a little swollen and he's sure if he touched them they'd be pounding. Elvis knows he should be a good husband like he always is and yet he can feel his cock swelling up in his jumpsuit. Seeing Lilly- seeing his *wife* bent over making food for him all while so *full* of him does something to him. It'd do something to any man worth his salt. Maybe he'd ask Charlie or Jerry how they feel about their wives when they've been pregnant. Though, Jerry's answer is damn nearly explained with his new niece or nephew Melly's got growing inside of her.

His cock had gotten them into this mess, first with her and him against the sink and even know their twins were merely the result of his cock seeing her backside as she bathed Jesse. If he were a different man, if he were the man he was almost two years ago he'd be embarrassed, mortified that his cock's acting like it's attached to a twenty year old. And yet, right now all he can think about is how thankful he is for it. Thankful it's proven its worth to satisfy Lilly in ways he knows now she had craved during her previous marriage. Thankful it's proven its worth by providing him with a healthy gift from God of a son and hopefully healthy strong little ones in a couple of months.

"You know he's awake," Lilly murmurs, moving closer to the sink for some leverage to lean on. "Wouldn't dream of putting our baby boy to sleep without letting him say goodnight to his Daddy." She pauses and leans back against Elvis, his body heat seeping through his jumpsuit and her dress. She can feel the sweat of the day on his skin and it should be nauseating and off putting but as she inhales deeply she merely smells the unique scent of her husband. A shiver passes through her. "What are you really trying to ask, Elvis?"

An idea of what he wants is on the tip of her tongue but she doesn't want to be too forward even after a child was born that was conceived in the strangest of ways or after he pleasured her with a garden hose. No, somehow asking him point blank if he was trying to enjoy what was between her legs was too much.

"If you'd let me- If ya'd mind bendin' over again. Or if ya'd mind if I put ya between the sink and me. Mindin' the yittle ones, course."

Lilly wonders if the way Elvis talks to her and the way Elvis seems to be completely and utterly in love with every part of her is ever going to get old. If it'll ever stop making her heart race and ever stop making her lose her breath. Maybe it's just because she had gotten so used to things with Nathan that it's still novel. The twins inside her do their own separate flips as she licks her lips.

"Minding them, of course." Her voice sounds airy, like it's floating into the air as she tries to remember how to breathe. "Facing you, right?"

Not looking out the window, pleasure crossing her face at every moment as she leaned against him, her legs too shaky to support the weight of her body. Not facing the window, watching the sun go down on another day, wishing this could be her afternoons forever more. No, she'd be able to face Elvis, see his face as it scrunched up when he grunted inside of her. She'd be able to see how he works up such a sweat that it drips down on her as they fuck. It's not that she hasn't since they've been married but this is another thing entirely. This is being able to see how Elvis's face looked like when he pleasured her against the sink almost two years ago. This is a reward for a hard day's work as she cooks their little buns inside of her and cooks a hearty filling meal for him.

His hands finally reach the destination he wants them to, her underwear. A hand slides against her clothed entrance, chuckling at how drenched has already made her. The pregnancy had heightened so many things and yet somehow she surprises him even with this. With a vagina that aches and yearns for him so much it cries out every second it's not filled. He finally speaks.

"Facin' me," his voice is a murmur and a growl as he shifts her underwear to the side just enough to slide his fingers where he knows she wants them. "Maybe I'll even lift ya up on the counter."

Lilly shakes her head, not trusting her mouth's ability to form words. Another time, she figures, when she wasn't carrying these precious little buns inside her. No, she wants to be pinned just as she was that first afternoon. Her hand reaches out to grab at Elvis's wrist, her hand trailing over her swollen stomach, an action watched with rapt attention by Elvis. A quiet but noticeable squelch is heard as he pulls his fingers from her. He opens up his mouth to speak only to watch as he realized something shifted inside of Lilly when she heard that squelch of his fingers. The look she has on her face is one he's gotten to know well both through her pregnancy with Jesse and now her pregnancy with the twins. She wants him and every second that she don't have him she'll get more and more frustrated. His hands move to undo and start to unzip his jumpsuit only to have her swat them away. Lilly's hand are deft little things, suited for sewing and domestic tasks even he struggles with despite his ample skills.

The rush of the cold air against his sweaty chest has him inhaling and has his overheated body shivering just a hair. Lilly's eyes watch the action and take it to mean that she needs to hurry, needs to reach down low enough to free his already swollen cock from the confines of his underwear. Elvis opens up his mouth to speak only to have Lilly's hand finally pull his zipper down low enough to yank down his underwear, his cock bobbing out of them not entirely unlike a goddamn Jack in the Box. Lilly isn't forceful except for these times when she's needy and he's already promised to give her what she needs. How's a man supposed to talk when he sees her hand around his cock, slathering the ample precum across his length.

"Just against it, Elvis. Please," Lily begs ever so softly, though she knows she doesn't need to. Any request she makes of Elvis he does and this would be no exception. She watches as he looks down at her with such a rush of love and clenches her thighs. Her nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and she whimpers at the mere feeling of his hand against her hip as he walks her back against the sink. She needs and wants every bit of him and he's determined to give it to her.

In bed, he would take his time undressing her, watching her dress fall to the floor and watching her ample milk filled breasts spill from her bra. He would suckle at her nipples until he saw her chest heave and her body shake with release. But right now? Right now against the sink he doesn't bother to even pull down her underwear. He should, and yet he can feel how aroused she is and just how she is craving him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's reminded this isn't proper, that she should insist he take his time and undress her and yet that voice is smothered by realizing no part of their relationship would be considered proper to her two years ago.

His actions make her happy so why should there be any shame attached to them. Her thoughts swirl in her mind with such force that she is caught off guard by Elvis removing her hand and entering her with very little preparation. A choked off sob of pleasure leaves her mouth as she looks up at him.

"Elvis," she whispers, her hands finding purchase on his chest and down his stomach. The hair on his body that rubs up against her skin every time they make love feels different in her hands in this moment, somehow softer while being just a little bit rougher. One of her hands plays with his chest, laughing breathlessly as one of his hands mirrors her, cupping her breast. "You can go— oh."

Elvis knows Lilly like he knows the back of his hand, he figures. Knows what makes his wife turn to pure putty in hands and knows how to have her pleasured in every way she had always deserved to be pleasured. It's easy to figure out just by watching her face and watching how it shifts when he thrusts just right and cups her breasts just right. "I can what, darlin'? Ya want it faster? Want your husband to move faster? Make it so ya comin' faster than anythin'?"

Lilly's eyes drift to the stove for a moment and then to the clock. She should tell him she wants him to take his time. That she wants to feel every thrust and feel his foreskin as it drags inside of her despite how aroused she is. She knows she doesn't have enough time though, knows that in about ten minutes she has to pull the meatloaf from the oven. Her vagina clenches and earns a slight curse from Elvis as he kisses her softly, waiting for an answer.

"We— the meatloaf. I don't want it to burn." As if she needs to explain why she needs him to go faster. "Tonight—If we can it can be slower."

Her skin is flushed and Elvis just takes a moment in between thrusts to marvel at the way it starts at her cheeks and how there's small splotches of it heading down to her chest. He's done that to her, not just the embarrassment she still holds on to about asking just what she would like him to do to her. His perfect wife, his lil darlin' is worried about meatloaf and can't always put into words what she desires. How had he gotten so lucky? How had God saw fit to put the nearest earthly thing to perfection in front of him? How had he found himself married with a son and young ones on the way to this woman?

"Even if 'm not. Ya— ya always know ya can get my engine revving," Elvis's voice is a murmur against Lilly's neck as he kisses and nips at it, his hips quickening their pace. "How long we got, Lil?"

"Nine," she answers, trying to buck against Elvis as best she can with her stomach and his own in the way. "I'll— I've been wanting—"

The words she wants to say are left in her head as his hand drifts down her chest and down her swollen belly to between her legs. Another time and another place she'd question what he's doing but she knows where his hand is headed. She knows before she feels the press of the calloused pads of his fingertips against her throbbing clit. It's been like that nearly all day and she knows better than to take care of it herself on days like this. Knows that what she needs is the warmth of his hands and the roughness of them to bring her to completion. So lost in her own pleasure she nearly misses the words leaving Elvis's lips.

"My perfect wife. My perfect lil darlin'. Takin' care of our yittle one and growing the other yittle buns. Could be like some of the other women and relax, sh—should be like 'em but here you are makin' me dinner and keepin' everythin' as it should be. Gonna show ya how much I love ya for this. How thankful I am for ya."

He pants it against her skin, one hand gripping at her hip while the other works against her clit as she's pinned against the skin. It should hurt, the way the counter digs into her back just a bit but any pain she feels is overtaken by the throbbing between her legs and the scrape of her nipples against her bra. Everything feels so warm and safe and loving that she feels herself starting to reach a crescendo, clawing at his chest before her hands slide to his lower back and down to his behind, pulling him somehow impossibly closer. An almost inhuman noise leaves his lips, a howl and a growl and a groan all mixed into one as he feels her clenching around him.

"That's it, Lilly. That's it my lil darlin'. God— Like a vice—" His words are lost in a haze of her orgasm and his own following closely after. Somehow both of their grips on each other get tighter as they try to catch their breath. Elvis makes sure to not lean too hard on Lilly, careful to protect their children inside of her. Time doesn't have a meaning for either of them until the shrill ring of a timer sounds signalling the fact that the meatloaf is finished.

"I— I need to get that, Elvis." Lilly whispers, still trying to remember how to breathe and walk properly. His only answer is a slow nod as he steps away. It's easy for him to watch Lilly's hips move as she walks the short distance between the sink and oven. A part of him thinks he should turn away when she starts to bend over but then he thinks of how she's leaking his release standing there and how she still likely has to finish one thing or another on the stove. He licks his lips and with a speed that surprises even him, he finds himself on his knees in front of her once she's pulled the meatloaf from the oven and set it down.

"Elvis, what are you— what are you doing?" Her voice is light and her eyes sparkle in a way they only do when she's amused at him and his antics.

In lieu of answering, his large hands grab at the edges of her dress and start to pull it up and up and up until her underwear is exposed to him. It's then and only then that he answers her, looking up through his eyelashes with a practically devilish smirk. "Felt like havin' dessert while you're doin' your work."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @be-my-ally, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @marriedtopresley, @memphis-menace, @steph-speaks, @doll-elvis, @vintageshanny, @j-v-9-2, @sexystarfish, @jessicarcates, @chirssycrumble9456789, @shantellescrivener, @yomammalolha, @honey6578, @urmom11111111111119, @myradiaz, @elvispresleyxoxo, @joegramoe, @rainblue-art, @fav-fanficssss, @misspresley, @fallinlovewithurlove, @ash-omalley, @yynneessmons if you're missing from this list, you either changed your username or tumblr is tumblr.

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x oc #elvis x lilly #big daddy elvis #big daddy and lil darlin #elvis presley x reader #spark universe #ally writes #ally's wet hot smut summer

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yuujispinkhair · 7 months

Note

pro athlete/mma fighter sukuna having to recover from an injury and taking househusband duties very seriously 🤭 annoyed if you come back with leftovers from your lunch because how dare you??? you need nutrients??? you need VITAMINS???????

he follow a keto diet but will make veggies for you and glare until those greens have vanished from your plate

you insist he shouldn’t take too much house work on his shoulders but he is EVEN MORE OFFENDED LIKE you think he’s wrestling the vacuum??? i dont think so

you come home to your beeeg beefy hubby reading with his glasses on because what he has in muscle he lacks in eyesight

PLEASE I LOVE HIM!! This makes me grin so much 💗💗 Grumpy and bossy househusband Sukuna uses the sudden increase in time spent at home to take full control of the household. HE is the King of this kitchen!! HE makes a plan when and how to clean! It's funny to see him like this, and you can't help but tease him affectionately about how seriously he takes his duties. You make sure to buy him an apron with some stupid print on it, and he pays you back by greeting you the next day wearing ONLY that apron. "What? I thought you wanted me to wear it. Ain't I a pretty little housewife?"

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birdmans · 23 days

Text

It was 'cause of Furio, wasn't it? Who said anything about Furio? I have never been unfaithful to your father. Daddy was. This is not something I want to talk about. I'm sorry. Not now, not ever. Jesus, how could you eat shit from him for all those years?

He treats us like shit and you take it! Why is that? And you, cruel as the devil ever made, to refuse me one love when you've got two. White girl, down in Algiers, sings torch songs with a flat, no-nothing ass. Been following you, Uncle Les. You ain't been your careful self. He's gotten tired of us, Daddy Lou...the housewife and the mistake.

THE SOPRANOS 4x13 | INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 1X05

#interview with the vampire #the sopranos #meadow soprano #claudia de pointe du lac #carmela soprano #louis de pointe du lac

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slutforsnow · 3 months

Text

New Beginning

(Part 1)

Tw/CW: Guns, talk of whoring, Violets SA trauma

Summary: Violet and Billy starting their new lives as outlaws

A/N: I've had a pretty bad headache lately so I'm splicing this chapter in half & bc i wanna work on my other drafts🫡

Violet stretched as her horse and Billy's trotted by the river of the Arizona territory. She was tired, hungry, and in need of a bath but she didn't complain. She knew what she was getting into when Billy agreed to try and rob the Chinese Laundry place back in Silver City. The question was if she would accept it, and she did without complaint. There was no room for outlaws who complained about the life they chose.

"Hey, Billy," She called, grabbing his attention from his thoughts to her. "You ever reckon why other women whore their bodies to other men?"

Billy blinked, scowling in confusion.

"No.... why?" He asked slowly while raising a brow at her. As the days went on, just ridin' away from their home, more Violet's than his, Billy was getting used to the random questions from Vi. The questions he never thought of until Violet would ask it. He didn't mind it, though, as he learned she was a very closed off person growing up.

Hidden away from everything else, raised to be a housewife and nothing more, Violet only started to explore the outside when she was 15. She had met Antrim while he was on a so-called "business trip," and he began to seduce her. Convince her that he was the one for her. Hearing how easily Henry had fooled Violet made Billy's blood boil.

Violet was a good person, and Henry tried to trap her into a marriage when he was married already with a child of his own.

The thought alone of Violet being forced to carry a child she didn't want pissed Billy off. He wanted to find Henry and shoot him between the eyes. He didn't deserve life.

"Billy? D'you hear me?" She asked him, bringing her horse, North, to a stop.

Billy stopped his horse as well and realized he hadn't heard her at all. "No, sorry, what'd you say?"

"I said the reason I think they do is 'cause men typically won't take 'em seriously. 'Specially if they have a real pretty face," She told him with a gentle shrug. "Unless they prove themselves worthy of workin' hard, a lot of men won't take 'em seriously and pay 'em less-hell, maybe even pay 'em nothin', so they'd choose to be a whore instead because that pays more if you're a good and experienced fuck."

Billy nodded in agreement with her explanation. It was no secret that women were paid less, almost nothin', compared to men unless they were a good fuck and real good one.

"Seems reasonable 'nough. You've given this a lot of thought though, Vi," He replied, a tad curious. "May I ask why?"

Violet blushed a little, looking at her hands embarrassedly.

"I, uh... considered goin' down that path after what happened when i turned seventeen" She admitted, looking back at Billy, whose curious expression grew to horror and anger.

"Vi-" He began, before Violet held her hand up, quieting him.

"Calm down, cowboy, I ain't thought about that no more. Trust me, the next time anythin' intimate like that is happenin' if and when I get married," She reassured, letting North continue down the path with Billy in tow.

"Good. I don't want you to ever have to do that; some of those men ain't the most polite," He replied, letting his body relax after she assured him that she wouldn't go down that path. She had blushed at his words, tucking some of her curly locks behind her ear. Billy had a way with words that made Violet's heart flip and twist in so many ways that made her feel as if she was spin dancing.

They sat in a comfortable silence as their horses continued onward, having small talk happening to avoid losing each other or going to far from the other, when they both suddenly stopped.

"You hear that?" Billy questioned, glancing over at her as he slowly reached for his gun.

"Yeah. Think it's a critter?" She answered, going to grab her makeshift dagger from her belt when they both stopped, hearing someone shut the safety off their rifle.

They slowly looked towards the newcomer. Violet's eyes softened seeing him, the older man (who looked maybe 40 or 50 years old) and was relieved it wasn't some guy like Antrim or a small critter. She wasn't fond of killing animals for food and understood it was a necessity to live, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

Violet's eyes switched between Billy and the mysterious man as they exchanged words. More focusing on the rifle that was still pointed towards Billy.

"And you? What are you doin' with him?" The man inquired, pointing his rifle to Violet. She took a deep breath, putting her dagger away slowly.

"He's my friend. I helped him get away and outta jail. I'm stayin' with him to keep his ass in check," Violet explained calmly, taking her hat off to the older man, showing him respect. The older man looked at both of them before lowering his gun slowly, believing them.

"You two hungry?"

Violet sat next to Billy as he watched the chicken cooked over the fire, spinning her hat on her finger as the three of them sat in silence; well, Violet wasn't really sitting. She was leaning back against Billy, whom was sitting a log. She occasionally glanced back at the horses, smiling softly and seeing North chilling with Billy's horse. She hadn't been sure if North would get along with the horse she had stolen for Billy but was happy to see that he was just chilling.

"You two got names?" The older man asked as he rotated the chicken.

"Sure do; I'm Billy the Kid," He introduced, refusing to use the name Antrim. Violet quirked up a smile towards Billy, a mutual understanding passing between them to never speak of or use the last name.

"And I'm Violet Evans," She finished, setting her hat on the ground next to her and sitting up properly as the old man offered them each a piece of chicken, which they took gratefully and ate.

"I'm Alias," the older man said in response, earning a puzzled look from both of them. Neither of them questioned it, but were a little bit concerned.

"So what's your plan now that you're living the life of outlaws?"

The duo looked at each other, realizing they never discussed what they would do now.

"Well, shit."

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings @nowitsmissing

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prettyhighforawhiteguyblog · 3 months

Text

I'm the wife in my marriage.

It's funny to me anyway. Funny to me because my wife is the very picture of femininity, loving, caring, sexy, pretty, beautiful wife, loving and adored by all her children. And a satisfied and hot for her husband.

But to me she is beautiful and terrible as the Dawn! Treacherous as the Seas! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth! All shall love her and despair!

And yet she chose me.

So to all the hella ladies who rejected my advances? Y'all missed out. Because she saw in me what way too many people couldn't. And sometimes still can't.

And she wants to run my life. And the lives of our whole family. And we all kinda love it. Mostly. But it ain't worth the headache or heartache of fighting her on anything. She's Daddy's little princess and her mother is the loving matron and queen bitch of the family and we all stay in line. Mostly. I love to do my own thing too much for my own good. But it keeps our fights about stupid stuff instead of my weed use again.

(I'm dead ass functional and present from 6am on till I finally get my insomniac ass too sleep while high just to escape the constant anxiety about my sick daughter's upcoming surgery, my dying suegro, my mourning wife, disturbed autistic son, special needs princess Daddy's girl I'm spoiling her to death to make her just as powerful and ungovernable mother and it's working too well already. Have you ever negotiated with a hostile bitchy entitled as fuck child? )

Anyway, you wouldn't know it looking at me or talking normal chitchat, but I'm pretty fucking manly. In the way my culture defines manliness. I'm not very masculine. But I'm very manly.

I'm feminine as fuck in my household. I mother the kids, help their emotional development, work on my wife's emotional and mental well-being, and I'm the one never in the mood for sex. And I do every single thing she says. And then she does the discipline and management of the family's affairs. And she's the one who has to seduce me. Did I mention she was sexy as fuck? (While I'm awkward as fuck every time we even roleplay.) And a horny Latina. (That's why these horny sexy, nice, Latinos are taking over. It's natural selection. The Whites just can't compete and as usual are getting their panties in a twist over not being able to compete even with everything in their favor to out reproduce them all but it was too many kids for a nuclear family to handle Whites.) So beautiful hot queen sexy as fuck Latina seduces me every night. #blessed. So fuck yeah I don't wanna fuck up this arrangement. So I do everything she tells me to and treat her real good and let her win every argument and over apologize. Except when I make a rare exception to make a stand in something important or just to make some trouble and have some fun.

Oh yeah. She's a clean freak 😮‍💨 But she's an impatient Latina housewife perfectionist clean freak. So she gets mad at my perfectly good job when company isn't ever coming job and tells me to stop even trying to clean. Go play Minecraft with your daughter to keep her occupied.🤣

I have the best living situation ever. I'll be your bitch my bitchy highness. Just please keep playing with my hair on your lap. Oh, and that sucking my dick the way you do and being right 95% of the time on judgement calls.

So yeah I'm the wife.

And I got a pretty good life.

#and know you know the rest of the story #when i was s younger man i had a good paying job at a factory plant as a temp worker #i liked this job #and it was easy clean indoor temp controlled light labor with a jovial #kindly and generally loving crowd of people all just trying to earn a living in this shit economy #and care for each get along with each other #it was a really nice atmosphere. there was only a little manager taking advantage of a woman's situation to force a relationship.#but she was petty please about the whole arrangement because she was lonely and he was kind and likable and #good looking younger guy #and it made her job impossible to get the boot #even as it got easier to boot #anyways i worked my ass off and just tried to get along with the boss #and it paid great #We could have been poor and happy working jobs like that for life if i really had to got some reason #but anyways this bossman manager sees me sweeping my ass off a clean floor and instead of telling me to go lean on a post for a bit #tells me I'm doing a good job #and that I'll make a someone s fine wife someday #i wanted to slap that smug mother fucker up there head w my broom. But i was laughing to hard at that fuckers joke because i liked the guy.#and i liked my job #anyway #here i am being a good little wife #and I'm living the life of Reilly doing it #i don't know the etymology of that phrase is. only my Dad says it in my experience #it might be good own little creation.#you're welcome #And the mother fucker just let me keep sweeping my dumbass all over a clean floor!#Union strong

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konigsblog · 1 year

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Hello, I’m not sure if your request is open (if it isn’t, please delete this)… may i request a yandere philip graves?

yes my requests are open! :) i just recently opened them

yandere phillip graves x f!reader

warnings: misogyny, graves is a cunt, forced femininity, misogynistic comments, gun threats, he insults you, forced love, he touches you without consent (not detailed)

masterlist

you knew phillip. you met him 4 years ago, you went out and had a great relationship with him, that was until his misogynistic comments started and you knew you didn't want this, causing you to breakup with him. "c'mon love... you know women don't belong in the work industry."

he didn't like this. not one bit. he stalked you, got you fired sending an anonymous email to you boss. a fake email, "i'm writting this to report your worker, [name]. they have multiple racist and hateful comments to people." blah, blah blah. it wasn't true, yet it got you fired which made it harder for you to get a job, forcing you to become a housewife.

finally, at last. you were turning into what he wanted, what he thought women should act like.

the day he kidnapped you, it was while youe were grocery shopping, you struggled to carry all those bags, and placing them in your car. "can i help you with these, hon'?" as you turned towards the voice, your heart leaped in your throat. looking him up and down, declining his offer.

but a medical cloth was shoved in your face, the accent whispering.. "i'll turn you into the perfect woman." as you fell into his arms, being carried to the boot of his car.

you woke up, chained to the bed. he was standing near you, only a couple feet away. each step he took caused you to flinch, "what the fuck?! phi-" a hand slapped across your mouth, "listen doll, i tell you when to speak. you haven't been given permission to yet, which means shut the fuck up."

he threw a old fashioned dress at you, paired with wedge heels. fuck, you can't show weakness near him. you knew what he was like. you shook your head, "that's not how women treat men, hm? put it on', you obey me." thats when you saw what he was holding. a pistol. he pointed it at your head, the muzzle hitting your ear.

your arms were unchained, you shook them as you were finally able to use them now. slowly you sat up, his eyes never leaving you.

you glanced at him, wanting some privacy. "baby, i ain't leaving. i wanna see that body." his smirk, he had such a bitch face. atleast it matched his personality

shamefully, you removed your shirt, then your trousers. you wanted to kiss the trousers away, knowing you'd never be allowed to wear something like that again. your bra and panties were discarded. he cursed under his breath. "fucking beautiful, babydoll."

before you could rush to get your clothes on, his hands were all over you. roaming around your body.

goosebumps is what you felt, as you grabbed your tailored dress, the skirt was big and round. you stood into it, before hinting that you'd want it zipped. he complied.

you placed your shoes on, perfect fit. he knew you too well. his hand grabbed yours bringing you downstairs to the kitchen. "go. make me something, something hot." you now knew fully what this was about. he wanted this to be like the 1950s.

quickly, you made something. looking in the cupboards and fridge and freezer. you set on chicken casserole, he loved it when you were together.

45 minutes passed, you took it out the oven, giving him a portion aswell as yourself.

you sat on the couch, hs pulled you by your waist. tears soaked your cheeks, this isn't how you want to live.

"you'll make the perfect housewife and mother ever."

#call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #modern warefare ii #cod x y/n #phillip graves #philip graves x you #philip graves x reader #graves mw2 #cod imagine #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #cod mw22 #cod x you #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere

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jinxhallows · 6 months

Text

𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 .

━━━━━━━━

☾ -- ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs

━━━━━━━━

ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ -- @sikebishes @hamburgers101 @felix-housewife @agnes-king @exfolitae @brojustfknkillm3 @skzswife @just-randomm-stuff @thunderous-wolf @3rachasninja @katsukis1wife @hanjingin @mylilliposts

☾ -- ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ? ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ

━━━━━━━━

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ sᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ | ᴡᴄ: 𝟼.𝟿ᴋ

━━━━━━━━

Santiago methodically lays out the estimated duration it will take for you to reach the final point of contact, another type of demon who holds the key to getting to the entrance of Abysmora’s gates. Leo and Lyra, a couple of strides behind, quietly prepare themselves for the journey ahead.

"Don't you do anything reckless now, you hear? You don't know these people, we're doing this because we owe them demons, and Santiago looks out for us, your family," he stresses. Lyra nods, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Of course, this was her family, they raised her, taught her everything, and helped her grow into the wolf she's become. But now, armed with the chilling details of the night of her parents' murder, she begins to wonder—what if that dreadful night hadn't happened? Could she have been raised with her original family?

And why didn't Leo tell her, if he knew? Perhaps it was to protect her, but she's beginning to question that, along with many other things.

But he's right; she may be your sister by blood, but who knows how your different lives have shaped you.

Beneath the silvery moonlight, the forest unfurls in a mesmerizing display of nature's grandeur. Towering trees, ancient and wise, stand like stoic guardians, their branches interweaving to create an intricate tapestry against the night sky.

"I'll be okay," Lyra mutters.

"This ain't your fight to fight, Lyra—"

"I said I'll be okay, damn it!" She flares up, immediately recoiling as she looks down. "I'm sorry; it's just... I've seen the pack do this over and over again. Have faith in me. I can do this. We can do this," she asserts, aware of Leo's love for her, his paternal instincts strong. Though she's never led the pack to Abysmora, she's seen others embark on the journey and return unscathed. The pack had no business in Abysmora anymore, like they did in the past when they first settled up here, so she hadn't ventured there herself.

"It's not that I doubt your abilities, Lyra. I just know you've been looking for your siblings your whole life. I know you, and I'm telling you, this ain't your fight to fight. They seem to have it together, know what they're doin' and all that. If she's with them, she's more than capable of taking care of herself," Leo says, his words still carrying the weight of his wisdom. He then sighs, becoming aware of his lecture-like tone. "Just get back safe."

"I will." Lyra leans forward and steps up on her tiptoes, kissing him on the cheek. "I love you."

"Love you too, kid."

You all venture deeper into the woods, and the atmosphere isn't as tense as it often is when you’re constantly vigilant for lurking dangers. True, the threat of peril looms, but with a formidable pack of creatures armed with keen senses, they both deter weaker adversaries and can detect the scent of mightier foes in case anyone or anything wishes to challenge them.

The forest floor, adorned with plush moss and fallen leaves, appears to swallow every footstep, muffling the sounds of their journey. A gentle, cool breeze carries the earthy essence of the woods. The wolfpack moves confidently, and it's comforting not to feel so alone. A few minutes into their hike, once everyone has ensured they are on the same page, Lyra gradually drifts back towards you.

"Do you have a plan for when you get there?" she inquires. "Do you know where to find this flower?"

You shake your head thoughtfully. "No, but Felix and Jisung have a fairly good idea of where to look."

"And if demons attack you?"

"We fight," you assert confidently, and Lyra's heart swells with pride, hearing the unshakable determination in your voice. You and Lyra share this fearless spirit, a comforting connection.

"Saw you talking to Chan. So..." You lower your voice, even though Chan is quite a distance ahead, engaged in conversation with Santiago and a couple of wolves at the front of the group. "What do you think?" You ask, eager to know her impression.

"Well, he's going to put his best foot forward, I'm your sister he never expected to meet," she begins thoughtfully. "But he seems nice. He's got an accent, where's he from?"

"Australia."

"Oh, it's hot over there. How does a vampire hybrid exist in Australia?"

You ponder her point for a moment. "He's a hybrid, so he can tolerate a bit of sunlight."

"And Felix?"

Questions left unanswered hang in the air.

"To be fair, one, I never considered that, and two, I don't think they were turned there. You should ask him sometime, considering you two had those private conversations this morning," you suggest with an eye roll, fighting back a chuckle.

Lyra grows defensive. "He just wanted to know a bit more about conjure, that's all."

"Oh, just wanted to know a bit more about conjure, huh? That's funny. Vampires can't conjure."

There's a momentary silence between you both.

Felix must not have told you about the self-sacrifice, Lyra assumes by the confidence in your statement.

"Anyway, I can't imagine Australian vampires existing," she continues walking, her fingers laced through the backpack straps as she gazes at the path ahead, taking long, powerful strides. "That place gets so much sun. I'd be miserable."

"Well, they do," you retort, readjusting your backpack on your shoulders as you observe Chan chatting with Hyunjin, who's joined him. "I'm in love with one."

━━━━━━━━

"Brother, back at the first stop, with Lysandra," Chan begins, prompting Hyunjin to hum in curiosity. "You two have something going on or was I imagining things?"

"I mean, she's very intelligent, beautiful, well-spoken, and we shared great conversation. Is that what you mean?"

"Did you two...?"

Hyunjin smirks, savoring the enigma he's woven around their relationship. "No, we didn't have sex."

"I heard sex." Jisung wedges himself between the two brothers, glancing from one to the other. "They're back there discussing Australian vampires. I'm bored out of my mind. What's going on up here?"

"Hyunjin has something going on with Lysandra."

"I didn't say that—" He corrects his older brother.

"Come on, brother, it's not poisonous to admit when you like someone," Chan laughs. "For a demon, she's one hell of a conjurer."

"She's one hell of a creature," Hyunjin amends.

"Oh, you like her like her," Jisung teases.

"Like I said," Hyunjin reiterates, "We shared great conversation."

Jisung and Chan exchange eye rolls, recognizing that's all they'll get out of him for now. Jisung retrieves his water bottle from the side pocket of his backpack, takes a swig, then caps it and stows it away again. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Has the little witch been having any more nightmares?"

"No, nothing that's woken me up, at least."

"I'm worried. When I was possessed, what if I opened a portal? What if Edith's watching us, waiting for the moment to strike?" Jisung expresses his concern. "Things like that don't just happen to me."

Chan glances over at him. He wants to mention that Jisung might be more susceptible to attacks because he's losing power, but he's sworn to secrecy. As far as he knows, Hyunjin doesn't know about it either, nor does Felix.

"A lot of things have been happening to us lately that don't make sense," Chan offers.

Hyunjin, however, doesn't concur with Jisung's theory of Edith spying on them. "If she was going to do something, she would've done it by now. There were plenty of times she could've struck successfully in the last two days. She probably used up a lot of power just getting that message across. A foolish mistake."

"How can we be sure it was Edith?"

"She's the only enemy we've got in purgatory right now."

There’s a wail that can be heard in the distance, and the wolfpack freezes, their senses on high alert even in their human forms, using their keen sense of smell and hearing to discern the danger. One of them points off to the side, “Nine o’clock.”

“What have we got?”

There is a shrill, bone-chilling scream from an otherworldly creature that none of you can spot as one of the Wolfpack members stumbles backward, his chest sliced with jagged claw marks, blood spilling forth as he yells and drops to his knees, pain searing through him.

“Never a dull moment,” Hyunjin says before he takes off toward the threat. Chan kicks off, leaving dirt in his wake, and Felix follows suit, leaving nothing but swaying leaves and branches as evidence of their presence.

“What’s going on?!” You ask frantically, looking around as the others ready themselves on all sides. You can catch the glint of their eyes turning a deep, glowing gold, and hear the rumbling beneath their breath.

“Stand down, keep the humans safe,” Lyra commands. “Santiago, what are we dealing with?”

The mention of your ex’s name causes you to look over at him, frustration building inside of you. “Why aren’t you with them?! What are you just standing here for?”

Jisung holds his hands out a few inches, extending an olive branch in the midst of chaos. “We have a plan, remember? We let the others go first, and then—”

“Fuck the plan, you're an archdemon, and you're just gonna let them—”

“Hold on, y/n, hold on.” Lyra stops you as she sniffs the air. In the brief silence, a disgusting choking noise is heard in the distance, spattering and hacking, and then nothing.

“I’m sorry I ever agreed to do this with you.”

Santiago says, causing an unexpected silence to fall onto a few nearby members, while the others are waiting either for more orders, or for the rest of the team to return. He’s towering over a lot of the Wolfpack, with a few of them blocking your view of him. He can’t see your face, struck with hurt, a hurt you don’t understand.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I ever agreed to do this with you. I didn’t know you’d be a part of it, or I would’ve said no. You’re fucking unbearable, you know that, you?” As his voice heightens, the others start to space out, leaving a direct path from you to him. “When you don’t get your way, its everybody’s fault, eres una puto niña, you’re such a fucking child–”

“Cool it, Santiago.” Jisung comes to your defense, but you look at him and shake your head, you’ve got this, you assure him silently, then you take a few steps toward the archdemon.

“I’m unbearable….I’m—un…bearable?” Your anger is hot, making your voice crack as you feel the adrenaline beginning to surge through you.

Hyunjin returns, his fist clenched around the wet, dirty hair of the head of a frightening creature. Its skin is as black as night, no, maybe darker, with bright red eyes and long, rectangular pupils reminiscent of prey animals like goats and sheep. Its slack jaw displays sharp, pointed double rows of teeth.

Hyunjin’s excited about the kill when he vamps over, but once he notices that something serious is going down, he slows down, pushing his hair out of his face and behind his ear as he ducks lower to avoid being seen and joins Jisung.

Lyra is now trying to interpret the connection you have with Santiago and why everyone is allowing this to just happen. She looks around desperately at her pack, still waiting for the others to come back, then deciding to hurry over to her wounded pack member, kneeling down to tend to them while checking around for any sign of Felix or Chan.

“Being abandoned was unbearable! Having to coexist with someone that made me feel like I was nothing and refuses to acknowledge it is unbearable!”

“I acknowledged it!” Santiago’s eyes are wild and wide, he’s exasperated. He’s hurt, he’s broken. He doesn’t want to admit it, as strong as he is, that it's been the heaviest weight out of everything happening that you’re no longer his, and that your stupid hybrid partner keeps rubbing his nose in it every chance he gets.

“I acknowledged it, and I apologized for it!!” He steps forward. “And you still hang it over my fucking head, are you wanting to crucify me or something?! You won’t even talk to me about it!” He’s under the pressure of Minho, the entire Lee family, and following the laws of the hierarchy of their demon society, and the dangers ahead combined with seeing you for the first time in years, now with another man, and having to playing house with your strange fucking makeshift family unit of freaks and—

“BECAUSE YOU WONT TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

Leaves flutter around in the air as the space between you and Santiago is filled with both Felix and Chan, holding two additional heads each. They’re fresh, dripping black blood into the soil below, which bubbles like a thick soup as the earth absorbs it.

“Damn, they got more than me.” Hyunjin mutters under his breath with a snap of his fingers. He looks down at his trophy kill and then rolls his eyes, throwing it over his shoulder carelessly.

A Wolfpack member shrieks as she barely dodges it.

Chan looks around before he directs his amber eyes to Santiago. “Do we have a problem here, mate?”

Oof.

Felix vamps over to Lyra, the wolf blood scent strong in his nose as he helps them both, sinking his teeth into his wrist and feeding his blood to the injured pack mate.

“She and I have the problem—”

Chan's laughter cut through the tension, but it held an eerie, unsettling quality. “No, no, no, that’s not how this works,” He casually places the heads of his gruesome trophies at his feet, their grotesque features illuminated by the eerie glow of the moon. Each detail of his actions seemed designed to unsettle as his smile drops. His cold gaze locks onto Santiago, angular features, framed by dark, tousled hair, illuminated by the ominous gleam in his eyes. “Whatever you two had is done. It’s over now, and was over a long time ago. Y/N is mine, so if she has a problem, then I have a problem.” The moonlight dances across his face, highlighting the glint of his piercing amber eyes. It's a chilling sight, and the fact that he managed to maintain an air of calm in the face of such tension only added to the sense of foreboding.

“So now, we have a problem.”

Santiago’s teeth grit behind his tightened lips.

Chan’s brothers quietly watch their eldest sibling, but they don’t intervene.

A fight would solve nothing.

He can’t tell you he left to work for the Lee family.

He just can’t.

Santiago takes in a deep breath as he straightens himself.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

The way he says it, stings.

But you remain silent, the heat of the argument still simmering within you, leaving you feeling exposed in front of Lyra and her pack. It was an inauspicious start, the first time they witnessed your explosive exchange in this treacherous environment. The fact that Santiago dismissed you so casually, as if your shared history meant nothing, sent a pang of hurt through you. How could this man, who you allowed inside of your body, act as though you were strangers? It was unjust, and the lingering discomfort is almost unbearable.

Chan arches a questioning eyebrow, coming to a brief halt to allow Santiago an opportunity to speak further, but when met with silence, he turns his attention to the assembled group.

"Listen up, everyone," he begins, his presence alone commanding the undivided attention of those gathered. "We've just taken care of a pack of these nasty creatures, and I can tell you, I've never seen anything like 'em, not in life or death." His foot rests casually on one of the severed heads.

"These creatures are swift and skilled climbers. Their bites are poisonous. How do we know?" Felix steps forward, rolling up his hoodie sleeve to reveal a shiny, raised scar shaped like a bite. The irritated, reddened flesh stands in stark contrast to his pale skin.

"One of 'em bit me," Felix continues, turning slowly to address the group. "Let me tell you, it burns like hell. Luckily, they're not hard to kill."

"You rip their heads off, clean off," Chan adds, his voice matter-of-fact as he gestures towards the severed heads.

Jisung, on the other hand, squats down, studying the heads closely. His eyes widen as he calls you over.

"Little witch, c'mere a sec."

You join him and, upon seeing the creatures up close, recognition strikes you like a bolt of lightning. The memory is vivid, causing you to gasp and nearly stumble backward. Chan's quick reflexes keep you from falling.

"Th-Those monsters, they're from purgatory!" You exclaim, the mention of that place making your skin prickle as your body recalls the traumatic experience. The wolves begin to chatter among themselves, clearly shocked by your revelation about purgatory.

"What?"

"Amelia said they're Edith’s creations." Jisung stands up, still staring at the severed head. He remembers the overwhelming sensation of his own power, the blood that dripped from his ear when he let out a force hard enough to expel them. It’s as if he feels the phantom sensation all over again. His fingers gently touch his jaw as he straightens up, gazing at the frozen horror before him. He’s relieved he feels no blood.

"And they can fly."

"You recognize these from purgatory?" Hyunjin slips through the crowd, his presence suddenly among you. "I've never seen them before."

"These are definitely from purgatory," you affirm wearily, meeting Jisung's eyes with a mix of fear and uncertainty. He wishes he could offer you reassurance, but he knows there are no easy answers to bring you comfort in this unsettling moment.

"Amelia said they could only exist between worlds."

"We're only a few miles away from your meeting point," Lyra says. You all turn to her, and she continues, "They say, the closer you get to Abysmora, the thinner the veil between Hell and the living becomes."

Santiago feels uneasiness welling inside of him at the conversation. The veil is thinning, sure, but an ambush attack from a species nobody has encountered before? That's a first, even for him. Even he doesn’t recognize the creatures, which was enough to raise alarm, with how old and powerful he is. "We should keep moving," he says, "If someone is trying to assassinate you, always be a moving target. We didn't come this far to get killed off now."

"Rio, since you were the first to notice, you, Jax, and Pete transform and run ahead," Lyra instructs, pointing ahead. The wolves nod and take off into a run, leaping into the air, fur bursting through their skin, bones shattering and rebuilding, and they never miss a beat, landing on all four feet and running ahead.

"Are you sacrificing us for them now?" a disgruntled packmate mutters.

"Are you questioning my leadership?" Lyra challenges coolly as they continue walking. Felix is a few paces behind and can feel the temperature rising in the packmate, though he silences himself against Lyra.

They don't fear you enough, he thinks to himself.

Mutiny could arise if she keeps this up.

Felix calls out from behind as he jogs at a humble, human pace, making his way up to the front line, "I'm going to catch up with the wolves."

"Yeah, Felix? You sure?" Chan asks. He's curious as to why his brother's so eager to go running with wolves, but doesn't stop him.

Felix turns around, agile as ever, jogging backwards. He holds two hands up, wiggling his fingers. "You never know when you'll need a pair of opposable thumbs." He winks and turns around, vamping off out of sight.

Lyra grins, looking down at her feet as she takes each step, her face warming but nearly undetectable on her deep almond skin.

Chan hears the quickening of a heartbeat and turns around curiously, giving the others a once-over until he spots Lyra.

Why's her heart beating so fast?

"Chan," you say, unintentionally interrupting his side thought. "Those dreams I had... Do you think, I don't know, she's using them to get access to me? I mean, first, a message through Jisung, now a wolf right next to me gets sliced through the chest? Her aim is shitty, but she's still aiming for me."

Chan grapples with the weight of your words, knowing that your pregnancy makes you the prime target. However, he doesn't want to distress you further, so he chooses his response carefully. "She could be aiming for any of us. It only takes the death of one of us for the destiny bond to bring her back."

Your hand instinctively finds your pregnant belly. You're more concerned for your child's safety than anything else. The idea of nurturing a life within you still feels surreal, and you wonder if that maternal instinct will truly blossom when you finally lay eyes on your daughter.

"How you feeling, sis?" Lyra joins you from behind, concern etching her features. "I can't say I've ever seen a pregnant woman hike this much."

"Even when I wasn't pregnant, hiking wasn't my thing," you huff, beads of sweat glistening on your forehead. "But I'm getting by with conjure and blood. Both take the pain away."

"Oh god, you drink blood, Y/N?"

You can't help but smirk at her reaction. "I not only drink it, but I also enjoy it on some occasions." Laughter bubbles up as Lyra cringes, her expression of disgust clear. You're curious now, wondering if she's ever been intimate with a vampire before. "You've never had vampire blood before?"

"No, and I have zero interest in it." She smiles, dismissing the idea. "Who are you feeding from?"

"Whoa, personal much?" You hold out a hand.

Lyra rolls her eyes, pushing your hand away. "Come on, obviously your boyfriend for one. Who's next?"

"Lyra! Why are you asking? No, I don't feed from Felix!"

She punches you in the arm, and you reach out to tag her back before she retreats to the back of the group, her laughter echoing.

"You can't hide from me forever," You warn with a playful smile. "I'm a witch, remember?"

Chan grins as he walks alongside both of you. It's a different side of you, seeing the way you interact with your sibling. The immediate comfort and lack of self-doubt in your relationship bring a smile to his face. Amidst all the chaos, your sibling manages to sprinkle moments of joy with every giggle that escapes your lips.

The sounds of snarling and snapping pierce the air, jolting you from the brief afterglow of laughter. A few seconds later, Felix returns, this time clutching two severed heads in his tightened fist before hurling them to the ground.

"Impressive, your pack doesn’t hesitate, took one down together, and I managed to nab the others. A few got away, though, flying off into the trees," he explains, pointing toward the towering branches above. "And I did get some of their blood on my hoodie this time."

"You're losing your touch," Hyunjin teases with a playful grin.

"At least there's hope in their weakness," Jisung remarks. "Are you sure you don't want me to scout ahead?"

"I'll handle it with the pack. We won't have their support after we reach the meeting point, and that’s when we’ll need you the most." Felix replies. He glances at Santiago, who has been silently forging ahead with an intensity that sends a clear signal to everyone, causing them to maintain a respectful distance from him.

“Speaking of which,” Chan says as they reach a summit. Together, you all stand at the edge of a rocky, jagged cliff. Beyond, all that can be seen in the valleys below are trees. There’s a large body of water far off in the distance, but the immediate drop is into the thicket of forestry below. “Is this the cliff you mentioned earlier, our marker?”

“It is. We’re only about a mile away; we have to descend. There’s a path over here—” Santiago points to where the cliff has a more shallow descent into trees that cover the path. It's difficult to see in the dark, but the moonlight guides you, and it's nearly Full.

“How many days until the Full Moon?” You ask, looking above at the ominous skies.

“I’ve lost track, but I think it's about 8 or 9?” Jisung says, looking up at it next to you, “Why? You worried about it?”

You shrug, “Yeah, a little.”

“We’ll be okay. Worst-case scenario, everyone rages out, kills everybody, and we get the blood bloom. We go home the day after with a mega hangover.”

Jisung’s casual, joking tone pulls a little chuckle out of you, but as you’re looking at the Moon, you start to feel a little woozy. You blink a few times, looking back at the land surrounding you, wondering if focusing on the brightness of the moon had maybe disoriented you a tad bit. But you stumble to the side, catching yourself, trying to mask it.

It doesn’t get past Jisung, who’s standing right beside you.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I'm just... I’m light-headed.” You curl your upper lip back as you rub between your brows with the back of your index finger, trying to stabilize yourself.

No, no, no, please no.

Not right now.

Please.

“Something’s wrong, little witch.” his voice lowers to a whisper. “Maybe you need to feed again?”

Jisung's eyes, usually warm and reassuring, now hold a flicker of concern. The moonlight reflects off his face, emphasizing the lines of worry etched across his features. He's seen this before, the subtle shifts in your demeanor, the telltale signs of an impending thirst. “We just did a couple nights ago.” “You don’t call the shots anymore, she does.”

Chan’s sigh from behind startles you so much, you jump. “A brat, just like her mother then.” He looks around at the group. “I’ll get the others, give you a little privacy.”

“Hold on, breaking skin out here doesn’t feel like the best idea, especially Jisung’s–” You begin to push back, despite how much you were beginning to feel the ill effects of your thirst. The symptoms crashed on you as soon as you realized something was wrong. You’re hoping if you just keep walking, you can trick your body into getting distracted by the danger instead.

“The further we go, the worse our chances. Go, hurry.” Chan taps your backside twice, urging you towards the cover of trees as he walks over to the others. “We’ll start again in fifteen.” Chan tells the group, and they disperse, some sitting on the rocks by the cliff’s edge, soaking in the moonlight, others anxiously milling about.

“We’re going to need to go underground if we delay any more, brother. What’s going on?” Felix asks with concern. He's no fool; he's seen you and Jisung duck off, and the scent of blood lingers in the air. He usually allows others to reveal information at their leisure, but the sudden stop has him questioning what’s happening that he isn’t privy to.

Chan sighs.

He looks around briefly, making sure nobody else is within earshot and paying attention. He answers, his voice low, “She needs to feed, from a human, and Jisung, he’s...” Chan trails off, finding it difficult to come to terms with it himself. “He’s losing his power, wrecked himself cheating death so many times. So when she feeds…”

Felix puts the puzzle together before it's even been fully revealed, barely whispering, “He’s giving it to the baby, his magick, through the blood.” As he finishes, his expression changes, more concern evident as he looks to his elder sibling once more, “And then?”

Felix continues, “He loses his conjure and then? He dies? He’s mortal? I – what’s he going to do?”

“He doesn’t know yet, Felix, and you can’t speak a word. I promised not to tell. Am I understood, brother?”

Felix saves his interrogation for another time. He turns instead, wordlessly walking over to the cliff’s edge, hands in his pockets as he watches the streams and rapids below. Why would Jisung keep something like that from him? They were close friends, and with Felix’s help, he could try to find some kind of solution.

“Ah.” Felix’s torrent of thoughts comes to a halt as he chuckles, tongue resting in his cheek.

That’s why he hasn’t told him.

He knows Felix, stubborn and steadfast, would never rest until he found an answer. Hyunjin paces the cliff's perimeter, his mind swirling with echoes of his mother's words from the other night. The moon, relentless in its luminosity, bears down on him, causing his skin to prickle uncomfortably. Contemplation threatens his control, and the scent of blood intrudes against his will. Fangs dripping venom, he swallows the saliva pooling in his mouth. Joining his brothers at the edge, he gazes into the distance.

"Why's Jisung bloodletting?" he casually asks, his eyes fixed on the rapids.

"Stocking up for the fight," Felix responds promptly.

"Hm," Hyunjin rocks onto the balls of his feet, pulling his hoodie over his messy hair. "I don't believe you."

Felix turns to his younger sibling. "You're gonna have to for now." He kicks a small rock off the edge, the distinct patter echoing as it tumbles through the rocks below. "Things will make sense soon."

Chan appreciates his brother's adept evasion of the topic.

Hyunjin accepts the answer, for now.

He, too, harbors secrets not yet ready to be revealed.

"This archdemon—he’s got a nasty fixation on you and the pretty witch," he says.

Chan raises a questioning brow.

"He used a human sacrifice to reach Minho and mentioned her by name. I couldn’t hear Minho, but he was talking about wanting to have gotten further sooner, and pretty confidently said I wouldn’t be a problem but you, on the other hand…" Hyunjin smirks up at his brother.

Chan checks over his shoulder to ensure no one is within earshot before lowering his voice significantly. "Minho doesn’t give a shit about the relationships between us, why is he even bothering to check in? Santiago just owes a debt."

"Lysandra said he works for the Lee family."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Felix interjects, "Like he’s currently working for them?"

"I’m almost certain he is, despite claiming to be free from his assigned family when we all first met," Hyunjin affirms. "Minho is keeping tabs on us, he wants to gain something from this, Santiago is completing a job for him."

"Fucking demons," Chan mutters under his breath, his eyes darting back and forth as his mind races with disjointed thoughts, reminiscent of his wolf form. He exhales, frustrated, letting out a growl as he tilts his head back to the moon.

"The Blood Bloom," Felix declares, "Minho wants the Blood Bloom; nothing else would make sense."

"He could’ve gotten it himself at any time, could’ve asked his dad, summoned a family friend. Why use us to get it?" Chan drops his chin back down.

"That’s what I haven’t figured out yet," Hyunjin notes. "He needs us in this equation, and I don’t know why."

━━━━━━━━

Jisung gracefully pours a vial of inky liquid across his arm, watching as it miraculously heals over. He wipes it clean with a rag before turning his attention to you, tenderly cleaning the smudge of blood on your chin. Pausing for a moment, he lowers the rag, revealing a half-smile.

“Can I teach you something?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Conjure. I want to show you how to do elemental conjure.” Jisung stands up, pulling you alongside him. The two of you stroll out of the woods onto the other side, away from prying eyes, until you reach the edge of the cliff. The stream from the other side continues, curving around the bend to where you and Jisung stand.

“When you’re near an element, you can borrow from its energy to conjure. It’s a good way to practice so you can do it on your own without the element.” Jisung kneels down and picks up a wooden branch, holding it out towards the water. He wraps his hand around the end, and you see and smell the smoke emanating from his closed fist. Jisung lets go, and the tip of the branch is engulfed in a brilliant blue flame that settles back to a regular orange, flickering as the flame works its way up. Holding the stick far from his body, Jisung steps in a wide circle until he's facing you. “Put the fire out.”

“What?” you ask, holding your hands out defensively, uncertain of your next move.

“Put out the fire, little witch. Listen to the water and focus.”

You close your eyes, pushing away the sound of the crackling burning branch for the running rapids instead. As you take in a deep breath, someone grabs your wrist, and your eyes open to see Jisung pressing the branch into your open palm.

“Jis—”

“Shhh.” He holds a finger against his lips, hushing you before you react prematurely. You feel an uncomfortable wetness in your palm, and when you open it, the damp end of the branch falls onto the ground from your surprisingly wet hand. You flick your fingers, and water droplets fly off, as if you had just stuck your hand into a bucket of water.

In amazement, you look over to Jisung, who gives you a smile before patting your back.

“C’mon, let’s get back to the others.”

━━━━━━━━

The descent down the mountain is steep and scattered with rocks. As a human, you struggle to maintain your balance, but Chan ensures you won't fall. The supernatural beings move with agile ease, navigating each step effortlessly, keeping their focus ahead. Winding through the trees, the land levels out, and the temperature drops significantly. It's icy, prompting you to zip up your jacket, seeking warmth. While the mountains are naturally cold at this elevation, tonight feels even colder than usual.

Lyra walks beside you on the left, arms crossed over her chest. Chan, on your right, remains quiet, pensive, and alert. Santiago pays attention to nearby landmarks, despite the transformed landscape. Hyunjin and Felix, a few steps ahead, are accompanied by wolves, their fur shielding them from the harsh chill.

The Full Moon begins to cast its negative influence on everyone, affecting your relationships. Jisung trails a few paces behind, lost in thought. His blank expression and slow, measured gaze scan the wilderness. His spirit seems unsettled, torn between the curse and the unease of the darkness. Muttering under his breath, he illuminates a wide radius, revealing nothing of significance.

Yet, a looming storm of uncertainty hangs over you all, a heavy cloud collecting above, mirroring the ominous feel of the night. The babbling brook's sounds intensify, prompting you to look around, attempting to ascertain its direction. The others seem so sure of themselves, you want to be able to feel that confident, too. You wonder, how must the world look from their perspective? How must it feel? To take danger head on, fearlessly with victory after victory, knowing what you’re capable of and always pushing beyond it.

After an eternity, the moving water comes into view through the thinning trees. The moon graces the foamy rapids, casting an ethereal glow on the wet, jagged rocks that protrude from the water. The dirt floor, almost frozen, feels solid beneath your feet as the group gathers by the banks.

"Who are we meeting here?"

Santiago looks around. "Something we call a coyote demon. Very few of them exist. They're the only ones that can guide you to the gates, or you'd miss it in plain sight."

"You're late." A voice hisses from the woods, spiking your pulse as you whip around, feeling its eerie proximity. Tree branches snap, revealing a terrifying figure. Tall, matching Santiago in height, the body hidden under a black cloak is disturbingly thin. The black, hollow, sunken eyes and cheeks, pale skin, and emotionless expression create an unsettling sight. No eyebrows, a hood covering its head with no visible hair, it glides over, a few inches above the ground, with no feet. It moves past you all to the edge of the bank, tutting to itself, its voice haggard and weak. "Late, late, late," it mutters as it kneels down.

Hyunjin looks to Jisung for an explanation, but Jisung shrugs, equally at a loss.

Felix is the first to approach the murmuring coyote demon. It's the first time he's seen appendages on it, long, thin fingers curling into the dirt. He watches quietly, squatting down a few feet from the creature. It's unlike anything he has ever seen or read about before. Felix can hardly believe it, having never heard of a species like this, never seen a creature like this.

The demon's head shoots up, a shaky, thin wrist pointing a bony finger across the rapids. "We walk, vampire."

The words weren't directed at Felix, but he knows he's being addressed. He still can't discern the creature's intentions, if it has any at all. Does it possess awareness? The demon stands up, gliding off the bank into the water, untouched by the rapids. The water remains still and peaceful where it stands.

It turns around to face the rest of you, its face devoid of expression, its lifeless lack of eyes freezing everyone in time. You've been effectively spooked, the hair standing up on your arms. Santiago turns to the group.

"This is where we part ways," he says, and Lyra steps forward to approach him. She's still uncertain about him, carrying judgments from the earlier altercation, but diplomatic she remains. She extends her hand to the archdemon, who shakes it firmly with a nod. "Thank you for your protection and guidance; I'm in your debt."

"And consider the Equinox clan free of all demon debts."

Santiago snaps his fingers, and a few red sparks and a black puff of smoke emanate. Just like that, the chains have been snapped on the other side, and the debts are cleared.

"Done."

He leaves, stepping off into the bank to join the coyote demon.

Lyra feels a surge of pride and confidence in her ability and pack for making the journey. An archdemon in their debt would undoubtedly prove invaluable one day. You begin to feel a little anxious at the idea of bidding farewell to the safety of numbers and to the sibling you had just reconnected with only a day prior. You hurry over as she turns to look for you, rushing into her arms. She hugs you tight, nearly lifting you off the ground. When you look at her again and notice the tears in the corner of her eyes, yours spill down your cheeks as she grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for another deep, comforting hug.

Hyunjin nudges Chan while they watch it all unfold. Chan nudges his brother back, and they exchange small smiles, understanding the significance of their family bond and the emotions tied to reconnecting with a sibling thought to be lost forever.

“Holy shit, please don’t die?” Lyra laughs through her tears, sniffling and wiping her nose. “I want to come visit you.”

“I know the best place for ice cream, and it's open all night,” you say, squeezing her hands before looking back at Chan, who nods with a small grin. He steps forward, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lyra,” he says, nodding towards the river, “You ready, my little witch?”

You're brought back to the imminent danger, the pressing task at hand, and the figure waiting wordlessly in the water. You wish you could return to the cabin with the rest of the pack, but your determination to break this curse makes you straighten your back a little more. You have a family to protect. You join Chan, who takes your hand as you two step into the water carefully, and just as it did with the figure, the water ceases to run. It's still cold, soaking your body up to your waist, but it isn't moving.

“Thanks for the help.” Hyunjin waves as he turns and steps off the bank, following the others across. Jisung stands at the bank, still hesitant, touching it with his finger and shaking it out, shivering at how cold it is. Hyunjin drags him, stumbling and yelling in with him, and Jisung falls in, standing up, his entire body drenched as he wipes his face.

Felix remains the last one standing, hands in his pockets. He takes one step, and another, and another, to approach Lyra, until they’re face to face. She's silent, her breath hitched in her throat as she awaits his words. She feels his eyes as they land on the features of her face, taking time to drink in each one. The longer he has been in her presence, the less pungent her scent has become, unless it has just become background fuzz like his brother’s scent had after living alongside him for centuries.

“I look forward to meeting you again one day, under different circumstances.” Felix finally speaks, his voice soft, airy, and low, as his sparkling dark eyes meet her gaze once more. He wants to say more, to do more, but he can't bring himself to. He takes a step back instead, a small bow of his head as his eyes close, and he speaks, “Goodbye, Lyra.”

“Goodbye, Felix.”

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