#on your knees and pray — ♱

[londonfallen]

"the things you ask are just… very personal." / morishrouds.

RE : PAIN DEPARTS, REWARDS ARRIVE! ... as said by dorian pavus.

it thinks it must look quite pitiful, with how he looks at it now—it is his history it pries, but it is itself that has nearly come to wilt 'gainst him, even where he withdraws. the things its blood has done in its name are shameful : beyond shamelessness, into downright depravity. its beginning to suspect there is a reason for its own childer's absence, and the outlook is quite grim. even it is hardly exempt for mourning, and mourn it does ; for its kin, so much as its name, and for those it hadn't known, that were inevitably lost in the interim. how long had the current family been led to prosper? how many had they brought to their new founding, and how many had they lost, to reach the size they had? it thinks, certainly, were it ever to show its face back 'pon the surface, that clan giovanni would sooner have their master's head for trophy.

" i wish to help you, tesoro mio, but i cannot unless you tell me. " it insists, however much it has to beg its voice not to waver. but its lip still quivers, when it does not pull it 'neath its fang to chew, wringing its hands together in its lap where it sits across him. " there is ... another way, i suppose, where you will not have to speak of your tragedies. " now it's the one that looks ashamed—like it is bound to be scolded, whipped, reprimanded : what it asks is not incorrect, but it knows it to be unfavorable, for more than just the circumstances it pleads. " but ... i do not think you will be particularly fond for it. " their bite is painful, unsavory : a curse, where the other masters lack such a poison—its lips sting even pressed chaste to flesh, but its teeth bring far worse, agony. it looks nervous. it is.

" there is ... little i can mend without knowledge thus of what has been done. i have only limited knowledge at my disposal, and i can infer, but what has become of my blood makes it quite difficult to gather anything more. " by time it unweaves its hands to reach out to him, it's almost trembling. it reaches out, lays gloved hand gingerly 'gainst his wrist, pushing up cuffed sleeve gently with its fingers as it draws them along the vein. " you can refuse ... and i will not push you. but this is the only way i can think to understand ... please, ellis. just this once. have faith in me... "

[valeisaslut]

riding country!ellie with your hands tied behind your back. that’s all i have to say baby ☺️💗

blessed are the ones who sin .♱ ݁˖

next part — cursed are the ones who stay

♱ word count: 2.8k 𖥔 ݁ ˖-

♱ content warnings: country!ellie x preacher’s daughter!reader, dom!reader x light sub!ellie, semi-public barn sex, religious guilt/blasphemy kink, bondage (wrists tied), spit kink, overstimulation, ass slapping, strap-on sex, mutual filth, southern accents, reader in control, ellie gets ruined, overstimmed & begging, both unholy and holy. MEN AND MINORS DNI, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

late summer air hangs thick with the smell of hay and something sweeter— like sin and sweat, like the hot ache of wanting something you ain’t supposed to. the crickets scream from the fields just outside, but inside it’s so quiet you can hear the sound of her chewing gum and the faint creak of the wooden beam you’re tied to.

your wrists are bound behind your back with her bandana. the red one. the one she always ties around her forehead when she’s fixing up her truck or working the stables. it smells like leather and salt and a her. something wild and unruly, something that’s never knelt for god in her life.

you’re kneeling in front of her. back straight. chin high. sweat rolling down your neck.

and ellie’s sitting in the hayloft ladder like it’s a damn throne, legs spread wide in those old jeans and boots caked in dirt, thumb hooked in her belt loop like she’s got all the time in the world.

“you always this mouthy for jesus, baby?” she drawls, slow and thick like molasses.

you raise your brow, smiling through the tension. “only on sundays.”

she laughs — low, rough, half-wicked. not the first time you’ve said something blasphemous in front of her, and it sure as hell won’t be the last.

there’s a rhythm to the way you sin with her. steady, worn into the floorboards. you’ve been sneaking around since spring, maybe longer, depending on how you measure guilt. maybe it started the moment she saw you barefoot on the porch, twirling a popsicle in your mouth with your sunday dress hitched up too high, your smile too slow. maybe it started when she smiled back.

your family doesn’t know.

god help them if they ever did.

they don’t ask where you go in the evenings. don’t ask why you’ve started skipping bible study or why your sheets smell like smoke. they just keep making plans, setting your place at someone else’s table. they say austin’s got a strong back and a clean conscience. that his daddy runs the feed store and his mama’s been praying for a girl just like you. they say you’ll grow to love him, that it’s god’s will, that you were made to serve— soft hands, closed legs, a white dress that won’t wrinkle.

they say purity like it’s a scripture you forgot how to recite.

because your body’s already spoken, louder than any psalm. it remembers the first time ellie touched you — fingers calloused from leather and sun, but gentle when they slipped beneath the cotton hem of your skirt in the back of her truck. it remembers the kiss behind the grain silo, your breath stuttering in her mouth, the way her hands gripped your hips like she was holding back a prayer she didn’t know how to say.

it remembers that sunday service, all tight smiles and tighter throats, when her hand brushed yours beneath the pew and your knees nearly buckled. you said amen with her fingerprints still blooming across your thighs, half a hymn tangled in your teeth.

ellie’s a cowboy. not the kind in songs, the real kind. boots worn through, flannel rolled to the elbows, jaw shadowed, shoulders broad. she rides horses, fixes fences, spits sunflower seeds out the side of her truck.

she’s got the kind of swagger your daddy would call a sickness. the kind of mouth your mama would pray out of you.

and she's kind of girl you couldn’t stop looking at since the day she rode into town with nothing but a duffel bag and a chip on her shoulder.

she doesn’t ask you to be quiet, doesn’t beg you to repent. she lays you down like a secret, one she knows the world will never be good enough to keep.

and you want her.

not just the rough edges, not just the danger.

you want the whole damn thing.

every inch of her, every breath. every long, aching night when she climbs through your window and fucks you so slow you forget how to say god’s name.

“reckon you got no shame,” she murmurs, her southern drawl curling around each word like smoke, eyes dragging over you slow. “kneelin’ for me in your daddy’s barn like a damn altar.”

you smile, all sugar. “ain’t shameful if he ain’t watchin’.”

ellie hums, low in her throat, and shifts forward on the wooden step. she’s flushed already, cheeks rosy, freckles darker in the barnlight. her hat’s tipped back off her head, hair tucked behind her ears. there’s a glint of sweat on her neck.

the strap’s already buckled on her hips —she always comes prepared, cocky little shit— but she hasn’t moved to use it. not yet.

“you been thinkin’ 'bout me?” she asks.

“every night.”

“and what exactly you think about?”

you tilt your head, testing her. “ridin’ you till you cry.”

her eyes flare. that sharp little twist of want crosses her face. the one that makes her jaw flex, her tongue swipe over her lip like she’s trying not to show how bad she wants it.

“you talk real big for someone with her hands tied,” she says, voice slipping a notch lower.

you lean forward, still on your knees, bare from the waist down, tank top damp with sweat and sticking to your back.

“you ain’t never had me ride you proper,” you murmur. “scared you’ll like it too much?”

ellie’s breath catches.

and it doesn’t take much to get her on her back.

ellie can act big and bad all she wants, but there’s something in the way she looks at you, like you’re the only one who ever unraveled her, that makes her pliant under your hands.

or in this case, under your hips.

you straddle her slowly, wrists still bound behind your back, breath caught somewhere between anticipation and ache. it’s awkward at first —not being able to steady yourself— but ellie helps. her hands find your waist, strong and sure, roughened by rope and reins. she holds you like she’s done it a hundred times, like your body was made to fit the mold of her grip.

her strap’s thick, veined, rubber catching light in the humid barn air. when you start to sink onto it, your whole body clenches. it’s wider than you remember, heavier. it doesn’t ease in; it claims space. stretches you open inch by inch until you can feel the pressure bloom behind your ribs, until your cunt swallows the whole length in a slow, trembling glide.

your breath stutters, your thighs shake. it’s not pain, it’s more than that— a full-bodied, spine-deep throb that makes your eyes roll back.

“oh, fuck,” you breathe, voice cracking.

ellie groans, low and drawn out, green irises dark and blown as she watches you sink down onto her cock. her head tips back, resting against the old hay bale, hips twitching up into your heat.

you can feel everything— the drag of the strap against your walls, the way it nudges deeper with every tiny shift. your slick is making it shine where it disappears into you, every breath you take rolls down your spine and settles between your legs. the fullness is obscene, glorious, a weight that makes you feel stuffed and ruined before you've even moved.

“god damn,” she pants, eyes stuck on the place where her cock disappears into you. “look at you.”

ellie’s hands are gripping your ass now, fingertips digging in, not guiding anymore. grounding. bracing. her thighs are tense under yours, trembling with restraint.

she wants to move, to buck up and fuck into you until you forget your name.

but she’s holding back, letting you take your time. letting you own it.

and you bounce— once, then twice, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the hayloft’s hush. it knocks the breath out of both of you.

then you stop.

“ellie.”

she looks up at you.

“spit in my mouth.”

her pupils dilate. something primal cuts across her face— a ripple of heat, a helpless twitch of her hips.

“jesus,” she whispers. then obeys.

you tilt your head back, tongue out, jaw slack. her spit lands hot and thick on your tongue, and your whole body jolts. the heat of it, the weight of her watching you take it.

you swallow it without blinking.

“good fuckin' girl,” she murmurs. voice gone hoarse, reverent, ruined.

“you like that?” you rasp, “like seein’ me all tied up and fuckin’ filthy?”

her answer is a sound you feel more than hear, a moan that starts in her chest and ends in yours.

she pulls the hat off her head.

her auburn locks are damp with sweat, stuck to her forehead. she looks fucked-out already. she twirls the hat once on her finger, then leans forward and settles it right on your head, tilting it low over your brow with a crooked grin.

“there,” she rasps. “now ride me, baby. you know how the sayin’ goes.”

your jaw slackens. your cunt clenches.

and then, you start to really ride her. slow, then faster, letting the friction drag against your clit each time you sink down. it’s messy as it can be. your hands useless behind your back so you can’t hold her, can’t even touch yourself.

all you can do is ride and burn and take it.

and ellie, ellie’s gone. her mouth’s open, eyes half-lidded, jaw slack as she watches you move. she’s panting now, chest heaving beneath her tank. one hand goes to grip your thigh, the other still sitting heavy on your ass.

“god, you look so good like this,” she mumbles. “like a damn dream.”

you roll your hips with a slow grind that makes both of you cry out.

“feel good?” you whisper.

“fuck—yeah. you ridin’ me so good, baby.”

you lean in closer, breath hot against her ear. “you want me to keep goin’?”

she nods, desperate, pupils blown.

“beg.”

you feel her shiver.

“please. please, baby — keep goin’. don’t stop, feels so fuckin’ good—”

you kiss her, hard and messy, even though you can’t hold her, even though it’s more teeth than grace. she whimpers into your mouth, arms wrapping around your back, pressing you flush against her chest.

and still, you ride. up and down, forward and back, each motion deliberate, unrelenting. the cock fucks into you with a rhythm that blurs into need, into instinct. your thighs tremble, your cunt flutters around the length, soaked and stretched, chasing the high that builds with every ruthless grind.

“ellie—”

“i got you,” she whispers. “come for me, baby. c’mon. make a mess all over me, i don’t care— fuck—”

and you do.

it slams into you like a storm. a white-hot burst of heat that shoots down your spine, curls your toes, makes you sob out her name. you collapse against her, writhing, gasping, clenching around nothing but rubber and the heat of her body beneath yours.

ellie holds you, whispers into your neck.

“that’s it. that’s it, pretty girl.”

when you finally stop shaking, breath still catching in your throat, you feel her shift beneath you— just a subtle twitch of her hips, but desperate. like her body’s chasing a high that isn’t hers yet, grinding up into you like it’s her cock inside you, like she can feel every pulse of your cunt in the aftermath.

you pull back just enough to see her face, flushed and slack, her freckles dusted pink, mouth parted. all bravado gone.

“you wanna come too?” you ask, voice soft. shaky.

she nods, fast. eyes wide, red in the cheeks, almost embarrassed.

“then do it."

and just like that, her hands clamp down on your hips, tight, possessive. she starts to thrust up into you with real rhythm— hard, measured, punishing. it’s not just desperate now, it’s practiced, deep. each stroke hits something sharp inside you, something raw and overused, and your whole body jolts with the contact.

the hat on your head tips forward from the force, nearly sliding off. ellie pushes it back with one hand —her eyes still locked on your face— then brings that same palm down on your ass in one sharp slap that makes you gasp, your cunt clenching around the strap with a wet squeeze.

“ride it,” she growls. “come on, baby — fuckin’ ride it.”

you’re already grinding back down to meet her thrusts, overstimulated, every nerve flaring. the strap’s deep inside you, dragging against every swollen edge, and now it’s unbearable— too much, too good, too slick. your body doesn’t know whether to fight it or surrender.

you choose the latter.

you ride her again, even as your thighs shake, even as tears prick the corners of your eyes and the most unholy whimpers and high-pitched moans can't stop falling from your lips. the overstimulation starts as heat, sharp and mean, but then melts into something hotter, filthier. a second orgasm building beneath the wreckage of the first.

ellie’s losing it. thrusting up like she’s fucking for survival, moaning into the space between your bodies, forehead damp, chest slick.

“tell me who you belong to,” she rasps, voice breaking.

“you—fuck—you, baby. always you. always.”

her hips stutter. her fingers bruise your skin.

and you feel it hit her — sudden, unstoppable — the way her thighs snap tight beneath you, her breath punches out in a broken and impossibly slutty cry, her muscles seizing around the thrusts she can’t finish.

you kiss her through it, mouths open, gasping into each other’s lungs, her rhythm still brutal beneath you. riding both orgasms out like a storm.

because just as she comes, so do you. your whole body folding over hers like a wave collapsing. you’re shaking, wrung out and wide open, dripping wet all over her.

it’s filthy. frantic. soaking.

there’s a mess between you now—your slick coating her lower stomach, smeared across her pelvis where your bodies kept grinding together. the base of the strap is soaked, and ellie’s clit is twitching beneath the harness, swollen and aching, nerves sparking with the contact, overstimulated and raw. her jeans sitting wrinkled on her knees. she’s breathless. her beautiful face slack and shining, mouth parted in awe.

you’re both still moving, barely— tiny, involuntary pulses that make your bodies tremble against each other, chasing the last shreds of the high. your thighs are trembling. her chest rises and falls like she’s been sprinting.

and when it’s finally over —when you both go limp in the hay, still pressed together, still shaking— she pulls the hat off your head and drops it beside you with a grin.

“jesus christ, baby” she pants.

you laugh, wrecked and breathless.

“he ain't here.”

“no,” she mutters, nosing at your cheek, lips brushing yours. “but you are.”

the silence after is holy. or—unholy, if we’re speaking in strict biblical terms. but it settles over both of you like grace, thick and reverent. a hush that feels sacred, even if it was born of sin.

the kind of silence that follows after church service, when the air is thick with incense and everyone’s misdeeds still hang like ghosts in the rafters.

you sit on her lap, breath still short, wrists still tied. your forehead pressed against hers. her hands trace lazy circles on your thighs.

“think i just saw the lord,” she mutters, voice hoarse.

you laugh, soft. “he didn’t smite us, that’s somethin’.”

ellie chuckles and presses a kiss to your temple.

“ain’t nothin’ wrong with the way we love, baby.”

you shift in her lap, arms aching now.

“you gonna untie me?”

she smirks. “eventually.”

“ellie.”

“i like you like this.”

“ellie.”

she grins, wide and beautiful and ruined.

“alright, alright,” she says, finally reaching behind you to undo the knot. her fingers are gentle now, like she’s undoing a bow on the prettiest present she’s ever gotten.

you roll your shoulders when you're free, and she presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“still thinkin’ about ridin’ me till i cry?” she asks, lazy, smug.

you hum. “next time.”

and she groans, tilting her head back like she’s already praying for mercy.

you laugh. you kiss her. you taste spit and sweat and salvation.

somewhere in the distance, the church bell rings.

and neither of you answer it.

࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ DAYYUUUMMMMMMMM I ADDED SOME LORE TO MAKE IT MORE INTERESTING BUT GAWD DAMN IM WET W MY OWN WRITING. huge HUGE HUGE love and tysm to MIA THE LOVE OF MY LIFE you live in my brain rent free and you've been here since THE first day. words can't even start to describe how much i love you. my baby. my wife. my real one. will forever love you like the moon loves the sun. okay poetic. but seriously i love you endlessly.

images from pinterest - edited by me

perm taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <3): @talyaisvalslutsoldier @miajooz @andiemiaswife @mayfldss @sewithinsouls @coastalwilliams @hotpinkskitties @ssijht @pleasejoel @pariiissssssss @liddy333 @beeisscaredofbees @d1catwhisperer @the-sick-habit @elliescoquettegirl @elliewilliams-wife @yueluv3rrrr @your-eternal-muse @ellies-real-wife @katherinesmirnova @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @thxtmarvelchick @natscloset @lesbiansreverywhere @2against3 @wwefan2002 @ilahrawr @harmonib @piastorys @azteriarizz @starincarnated @natssgf @ukissmyfaceinacrowdedroom @iadorefineshyt @claudiajacobs @urmomssideh0e @kingofeyeliner @womenlover0 @ferxanda @imunpunishable @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrrr @bambi-luvs @maru0uu @mikellie @gold-dustwomxn @nramv @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @elliewilliamskisser2000 @azxteria @elliecoochieeater

[sillymommy6969]

𝓢𝒖𝒃𝒕𝒍𝒆 & 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕, 𝓓.𝓐.

♱ 𝒚𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐; daniela’s a passionate woman, and the thrill of getting caught showing it really flicks a switch in her

♱ 𝒄𝒘; 7th member au!r, horned-up!dani, touchy!dani

𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆, pt. one, two, three

𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒊 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝑨𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒀𝒐𝒖

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip one: [ tiktok ] doing shit w dani (@katseye)

“like you’re such a fucking angel,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. though, you didn’t bother fighting the grin that spread across your lips at the banter. “drop the saint act, daniela.”

“oh, come on, mami. i’m as pure as they come,” the latina purred, her tongue tracing the corner of her mouth.

she had the phone set on her desk in her room, sporting a pink stussy beanie under the pulled hood of her black zip-up. she sat back into her black swivel chair, her legs spread wide, and a slice of pizza in hand. you sat in manon’s chair beside her, body just out of frame as you leant in close over her shoulder to engage with your eager fans and their comments on live.

“if you’re pure, then i’m the virgin mary.” you whispered, bopping the tip of her nose with your finger.

“you don’t meet the most important requirement to be the ‘virgin’ mary.” she teased. you scoff, shoving her.

she grabbed your wrist lightly, making loud grunts as she fake-gnawed your arm. you squealed, jerking away as daniela let out a loud series of laughter. she had yanked the slice straight from your hand, biting into it. you sat up, clicking your tongue.

user01 not religious but on my knees at this altar

user02 she can be barbie and i can be the box she comes in

user03 “till-” no we’re not stopping this threesome i fear

user04 call me benson goon cuz im taking off my blue jeans

“daniela andrea,” you called sternly. she just stared back with a teasing glint in her eye, smirking. “if you don’t give me back my dinner, i’ll send you up to meet the virgin mary.”

she shrugged, “sorry, mami, you don’t deserve it. you can’t be disrespecting me when you’re eating the pizza i bought.”

you stood, knocking manon’s chair back a couple inches. you shot her a faux look of irritant, scrunching your nose. “well, i’m grabbing another piece of the pizza you bought. you asked me to join you, so i expect some kind of compensation.”

just as you wedged yourself between daniela and her desk, she grabbed your hips roughly, pulling you back and down into her lap. her hand grabbed the underside of your knees, the other supporting the small of your back. she pushed her chair back with her feet, wheeling away from the camera. her name rolled off your tongue like a cursed chain, you grabbed onto her tightly in fear of rolling off her thighs and onto the floor.

daniela quickly stood up, taking advantage of the momentum to throw you on her bed. though, she couldn’t let go quick enough, and her body tumbled into yours. just out of frame.

user05 born to ride or whatever lana del rey said

user06 i’ll have what they’re having… and the pizza too ig

user07 okay guys jokes over who took my clothes

daniela laid atop of you, her arms still around your body as you playfully slapped her back. you groaned, struggling to move from under her. thankfully, the two of you were just conveniently out of frame. “dani--!” you whined, struggling to wrong free from her grasp. “get off, you’re heavy.”

she gasped, sitting up. “i’m not heavy! don’t fat-shame me.”

“maybe stop eating so much pizza, you little--!” you rolled over, grabbing daniela’s pillow and smothering her with it. you hear her scream at the top of her lungs into the fur, before grabbing at your hips anchored over hers.

user08 so y/n’s the type gf to straddle you?? scotty beam me

user09 we used to pray for a ankle reveals i feel so blessed

user10 i just know these two have the craziest sesbian lex

you managed to wriggle away from a laughing daniela. you returned to the desk, leaving the younger panting, lying alone on her bed. you grabbed a new slice from the box, biting into the corner. “anyway--sorry you had to witness that little pause, guys. dani woke up and decided to be a brat today.”

“aye, i leave you alone with the camera for a minute and you’re talking shit about me, mami?” the latina chuckled, setting herself down beside you. she pulled your chair by the armrest, close, and into her embrace as she leant over to bite your slice. “you’re the one messing up my momentum up in here.”

she refused to back away, getting in your personal space like her life depended on it. her head rested on your shoulder for the rest of the live, her hands roaming your midsection as she hugged you from the side. you didn’t seem to notice, or mind, as her fingers dragged across your body like she was writing.

user11 damn gotta pry y/n out of dani’s cold dead hands huh

user12 girl chill ain’t nobody tryna take her from you

user13 y/n got our girl acting up like how good is that strap

user14 i wish someone would put me in my place too

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip two: [ yt video ] katseye’s routine (@glossier)

daniela could stare at you for days on end. it was an issue.

she’s seen the edits, she’s seen the tiktoks, but it didn’t matter how many times she told herself she was going to be careful the next interview or the next press event, she just couldn’t. it was almost like she wasn’t physically able to.

setting her up with you for the glossier video was such bullshit. she swore the team was praying on her downfall. this was their doing--can they really blame her when she couldn’t control it?

“good morning, people of america.” you sang, adjusting your headband in the mirror. daniela’s eyes trained on you, and though the camera sat faced away from the mirror, the fans were certain she was watching your reflection. “this is a ‘get ready with me’ with y/n and daniela from katseye.”

she waved to the camera, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth. “today, we’re showing you our makeup routine.”

“wait, i love the braid band.” you complimented, turning your back towards the latina. she couldn’t keep the smile from creeping on her lips. “that’s so easy, i wish i could do that.”

the video cut to manon and sophia, then the maknae line. it wasn’t long before the two of you were back on screen.

“personally, i love a more glossy look. i used to really enjoy the matte finish back in, like, 2013, when it was all about youtube tutorials and king kylie tumblr girls, y’know?” daniela hummed, watching you spray mario bodescu all over. your cheeks glisten, the mist highlighting your features. she stilled, like she had forgotten she was supposed to be starting her routine as well. “but now, i just think the sweaty look works.”

daniela laughed, “you did not just quote tyla at me.”

“no, but she’s so real for that!” you giggled, fanning your face as the primer set. “honestly, i don’t think i can pull off the matte look the way i did when i was like thirteen. my friends from home still clown me with those pictures.”

“like you could ever look that bad.” daniela rolled her eyes, “didn’t we do that style for the debut concept shoot?”

you glared at her, a small teasing smile on her lips. “okay, didn’t have to call me out like that--aren’t we supposed to start? why am i the only one doing a routine right now?”

one of her hands were around your waist, the other picking up her facial spray. she snuck one last glance at you through the mirror before her hand left your hip, misting her features.

after a few interludes of the others starting off their routine, the two of you were centre of attention again.

“valerie put us on this amazing foundation,” daniela said, holding the bottle up to the camera with a hand behind. she once again, snuck you a look, watching you put it on before she does it herself. “it’s the glossier stretch fluid foundation.”

“yeah, it makes me look like i actually drink water.”

“i know you drink water, mami,” the latina added, putting on her own foundation. “i got you that big owala, remember? i made sure you put that thing to good use. wait, isn’t that--!”

she leant over you, covering the camera with her arm for a brief moment before she pulled back, a large bottle in hand.

“oh, yeah, it’s here. i bring it with me everywhere.” you said.

daniela struck a few poses with it, pouting before handing it to you. as your lips latched around the straw to take a sip, her hand found the small of your back, before she got in close to take a large swig of water as well. “see? drink your water, kids.”

user01 is this a grwm or a third-wheeling campaign

user02 dani acting up again she be all over our girl lmao

user03 ok guys not funny who took my clothes

user04 so did glossier just decide we were third wheeling tdy

“i love this liner. i was asking ariana greenblatt about her lip combo at the barbie premiere afterparty last year, and she put me onto makeup forever.” your body leant in close to the mirror, pressing your lips together. you carefully dragged the tip of the pencil across your lips, but you were struggling to keep the tip within your lips. you sighed in frustration. “fuck, i need to sharpen this thing, it’s not working.”

daniela’s hand left your back, grabbing your pencil. she rummaged through her makeup bag. “here, i have mine.”

when she was done sharpening your pencil, she twirled her finger, and naturally, you turned towards her. your eyes flickered to the floor as her fingers gently grabbed your chin. she pursed her lips, you mirrored her action. she carefully fixed the missed lining, before dragging her thumb across the top of your lip for a cleaner edge. “there we go. isn’t that better?”

you knew it closer to the camera, smiling and tilting your head side to side. “we love a clean liner here.”

“si, mami, me encanta el buen maquillaje,” daniela announced in a sing-song voice. she circled her arms around your neck, burying her nose into your cheek. “y te amo, guapa.”

“yo tambien, te quiero, dani.” you whispered, hugging her hips.

user05 the fact she knows the spanish ilyt is crazy

user06 the way it rolled off her tongue so fast too she knew

user07 oh baby had that answer locked and loaded

“wait, i’ve never tried that one before.” you said, trying to read the label on daniela’s lipgloss. it was a new edition glossier gloss, one you haven’t seen yet. “can i try yours, please?”

she nodded, handing you the tube. you quickly applied it, but in the short couple seconds you were fixing your lips, daniela’s eyes never tore away from your face. she smiled.

“mmh. this isn’t really my colour,” you sighed, setting it down.

“no, no, you look good. you look sexy,” daniela assured, her lips spreading into a wide smile. “

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip three: [ weverse ] making gnarly sandwiches

“absolutely the fuck not, that shit looks radioactive.” daniela scoffed, her head pulling back and away from manon’s sandwich. the older pouted, insistent with the way she kept leaning forward. “manon--stop! i don’t consent!”

“come on, it’s not even that bad. just try it!” the ghanaian woman barked back, chasing daniela around the set.

you focused on stacking the ghastly ingredients in between the two flimsy slices. mustard was sliding out, and as you crushed the bread into each other, the tuna juice dribbled all over your fingers. it was beyond disgusting, but somehow, not the grossest thing sitting at the table right then.

user01 danon divorce preachers been real quiet in this live

user02 y/n’s so focused this gg is so unserious

user03 omg not megan force feeding sophia her sandwich

the eldest eventually gave into daniela’s protests, growing tired of chasing the woman around with a plate in her hands.she managed to give yoonchae a tiny bite, as the youngest made a face, diving towards the sink to spit out the disgusting bite.

daniela found her spot beside you, shooting her roommate a disapproving scowl as manon tended to a hacking yoonchae by the sink. the latina rested her chin on your shoulder.

“someone said, ‘i need y/n in my life’.” sophia read off the ipad at the edge of the table. she peered over at you, who was still focused on the sandwich before her. daniela’s arms wrapped around your midsection tightly, she snarled at the main camera. you weren’t fazed, holding up your plate.

“too bad, she’s all mine.” the latina purred, “get your own.”

user04 damn ok girl ain’t nobody tryna square up rn

user05 until she forgets how to speak spanish

user06 don’t know who i want to be more honestly

you picked the sandwich off your plate, holding it up to daniela’s face. the girl instinctively pulled back, but upon seeing your look of excitement, she couldn’t deny the request that followed. “wait, dani, try mine. it’s not that bad.”

though the girl grimaced, and eyed your sandwich like it was radioactive, she didn’t need another beat to move in for a bite.

it was disgusting, gnarly, if you will. but still, daniela persisted. she managed to swallow the bite, but washed the gamy aftertaste down with half a bottle of water. you laughed at her reaction, dusting your hands off before brushing some hair out of her face. she faked a dramatic gag, a hand on her chest.

“jesus christ, it tastes like monkey ass.” she scoffed. you hit her chest lightly, clicking your tongue. “i mean--mmh, yum.”

user07 damn gotta fake it for the wife huh

user08 seven times a day or whatever jhope said

user09 they finna make me hit the ggum emote

“manz, will you come try it?” you pleaded softly, beckoning her over with a wishful pout. “it’s not that bad, i swear.”

manon raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. she dramatically eyed your plate, then back up at your eyes. “don’t play with me, babe, i saw the way daniela just choked to that.”

“no, dani loved it. right, babe?” you grinned, awaiting support.

daniela’s eyes widened immediately, she was about to choke out some lazy reply before she caught the hopeful glint in your eye. it was just too precious to ruin, so she bit back whatever sass she would usually spit. if you were anybody else.

“it wasn’t that bad.” she shrugged, her fingers trapping at your stomach as they found their way under your shirt. “y/n made it, so of course it was good. definitely better than yours.”

“uhm, excuse you?” the eldest scoffed, “you’re biased.”

“i don’t know… if you try it, you won’t think so.” you wiggled the sandwich in your hand, as if enticing manon. still, the older woman didn’t seem to budge from her stance.

“just try her sandwich, manz.” daniela ordered, “come on.”

the eldest groaned, slowly sauntering over before hesitantly leaning in for the tiniest bite she could manage. and though the mixture of ingredients looked atrocious, the taste was meshed awfully well. manon’s eyes narrowed, humming.

“oh my god, that’s actually not bad.” she was promptly pushed out of the way by megan, who pleaded for a taste too.

daniela smiled as you beamed at the members lining up to judge for themselves, front pressed against your back in a tight embrace. the only people who seemed fazed was eyekons.

user10 the fact that this is a normal occurrence

user11 dani fighting invisible demons for her woman rn

user12 “married couple making sandwiches for their kids” ahh

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip four: [ weverse ] roommates hanging out

“okay, what’s a rumour you guys want to debunk?” manon read, turning to give you a look. you laid beside her on the bed, picking at your newly filed nails. “y/n? you wanna go?”

you looked off camera at lara, who smirked teasingly between you and daniela, who was eating the kimchi stew she ordered.

“uh--ooh! i saw some tiktoks like clipping that picture of me and dylan at coachella. we are not dating, guys, i’ve known dylan for years, he’s like my brother.” you announced, earning a loud series of hysterical laughter from lara and manon.

if only they knew how many you could’ve chosen from.

at coachella, you spent some time with dylan. it was such good luck katseye and the wallows were set to perform on the same day, because it gave you some quality time to see your friends. but tabloids being tabloids loved taking things out of context, so of course the pictures of you hugging him, or the ones of him with his arm around you as the both of you stand to tyler, the creator’s set, were posted as ‘dating confirmations’.

“oh my god, i remember my sister sending me this tiktok that’s like ‘y/n and dylan’s story’ and it was like clips of them from five years ago.” lara laughed, “she was all like, ‘y/n’s dating the guy from thirteen reasons why?’ it was so stupid and funny.”

you rolled your eyes, sighing deeply. “stop, it was so bad.”

“guys, stop exposing y/n and dylan like that,” manon whined, unable to hold back her smile. “leave the couple alone.”

“guys, dylan has a whole ass girlfriend, don’t get me in shit for something that isn’t true.” you warned, leaning close to the phone. “me and dylan are not dating. we’re not a couple. we’re just really good friends, stop tagging us in the ship edits.”

user01 the fake eyekons are forgetting they’re actual people

user02 yeah they’re both taken guys come on now

user03 dani going quiet rn is so out of character lmao

the latina sauntered around the beds, you felt manon’s bed dip behind you as she curled herself around you. she stuck her legs through your arm propping yourself up, you lay on her instinctively, your arm across her lap as you held your head up. her fingers stroked your hair, as you droned on and on.

“no, ‘cuz i remember you were like on the phone with dylan talking about it after coachella.” manon added, “it was like when… that one article dropped, right?”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, we were fighting for our life, girl.”

“it was actually such an era. dylan took it like a champ though, props to him.” lara chuckled, “dani? any rumours to debunk?”

it took her a split second to snap out of her daze, you shot her a look from under her. she coughed, clearing her throat.

“no…? nothing’s really coming to mind right now.” she faked a moment of thought, but ended up shaking her head anyways.

user04 girl is sweating rn lmao all eyes on her

user05 she knows she’s lying out her ass right now

user06 address the #dann/n allegations mother

manon, who was reading the comments, had a growing grin on her face. she snapped her head back, and all she needed to do was give daniela one sly smirk, the latina knew exactly what the fans were begging for. “you sure about that, dani?”

she glared at her roommate, who just made a very unsubtle face. you lightly smack manon, the eldest held her hands up.

“god, must you always instigate?” you asked, scowling.

user07 damn she got her wife stepping up for her

user08 she’s so hot guys i can’t do this shit anymore

user09 she said shut down those allegations fr

user10 manon is our strongest dann/n warrior i fear

“--lara!” daniela suddenly raised, her eyes finding the indian singer’s, but her hands still tending to your hair. “what about you, babe. you got any rumours you want to debunk?”

and though the topic of discussion seemed to shift away from you, clips of you and daniela cuddling and being unable to pry yourselves away from each other were a hot topic on weverse and eyekonville. the two of you might not need to verbally debunk anything, because your actions certainly prove the fandom’s speculation may be more than just rumours.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip five: [ yt video ] katseye spilling truth on allure

“mami, don’t lie, we know you better than that.”

you were caught right then and there, as if you could ever convince anybody daniela wasn’t the first person you looked for when you entered a room. the girls collectively gave you ‘seriously?’ looks, pinning a spotlight all on you.

“y/n, how are you like when you have a crush?” lara repeated.

you hated answering questions like these. it gave the fans too much power. “uhm… well, i’m not a big physical touch person, but if i like someone, i’ll get really touchy.”

a quick compilation of you only letting daniela anywhere near your personal space was inserted. then a couple clips of you shying away from the other members’ grasp.

“let me tell you, one time, like a long time ago, y/n and i were on a double date. like, we snuck out of my parents’ house and we had a double date, and y/n was so disgusted by the thought of letting him hold her hand, she was like icing her date out the whole time.” lara laughed, “it was so funny, like she was allergic to his hand or something.”

the girls all broke into laughter at the story. they were no stranger to this inside joke, much to daniela’s dismay.

“well…” manon started, peaking at the card in lara’s hand, “the follow up question is, ‘do you have a crush on someone now?”

you fell silent, your cheeks flushing with heat.

sophia wheezed, poking the side of your cheek. you jerked away, trying to hide your smile. “look, y/n’s getting red. aww!”

“can i pass this question?” you asked, “is that an option?”

“no, no, you have the answer the question, that’s the game!” yoonchae yelled, standing from her seat. “spill, or drink!”

daniela was awfully quiet this entire turn. she only stared at you, not even tearing her gaze away for sophia’s shouting or lara’s vicious laughter. she had a small smile on her lips, her piercing eyes trained on your flustered state.

“y/n actually has a crush on our beloved eyekons.” the latina stepped up, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “she only has time for our fans, right?”

you grinned, grateful for her rushing to your rescue. “mhm.”

“dani’s helping her answer, it’s not fair!” megan whined.

“aye, no answer is an answer in itself, y’know what i mean?” megan mumbled, “keep your secrets then, y/n.”

daniela’s hand reached for yours under the table, fans zoomed in on the gesture the two of you tried keeping subtle. but of course, by now, you knew nothing escaped your fandom.

how much longer will #dann/n be subtle and secret?

𝒂𝒏; god gabriela era dani is doing sth to me. guys a bet fic is in the works trust the process. chat w me my inbox is open!!

𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒙𝒙

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

consecration

We're witnessing the fall of... angel!reader ·:*¨༺ ♱ ༻¨*:·

·:*¨༺ ♱ ༻¨*:· She is Heaven’s little lamb. All wide eyes and clean hands. Barefoot in church ruins. Cloaked in gold light.

·:*¨༺ ♱ ༻¨*:· She doesn't understand sin. Not really. She knows of it like a child knows fire—distant, dangerous, sacred.

·:*¨༺ ♱ ༻¨*:· She takes everything literally. Believes in mercy. Thinks lust is a sickness. She prays for him.

·:*¨༺ ♱ ༻¨*:· He calls her angel like a curse and watches her flinch. He says he’s seen angels before—none of them looked like her.

She thinks she’s saving him. He thinks he’s ruining her. They’re both right.

OUR SACRED TEXTS:

♱ “are you trembling for god, or for me?”

♱ “i can make you holy if you let me”

♱ “what use is a halo when it slips so easy?”

♱ “you’re not falling—you’re being pulled”

♱ “on your knees, angel. show me devotion.”

a/n: Okay, I'm pretty excited about this one. It's been in my wips for a couple weeks but we need to give a massive "thank you" to our girl (and my wife) @tinas111 because this is her vision. She just trusted me to bring it to life. <3 I know I have about seven million unfinished works but I was too excited to not post this. All the fuckin' love.

soldier boy/ben taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @lunaleah. @itshellfire @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @suckitands33 @nevercameraready @0ccvltism @bittersweetfig @lyarr24 @podiumackles @spxideyver @tinas111 @ohgodimgoungtodie @paristheonewhoreads @winchestersbgirl @blossomingorchids @sacr1ficialang3l @kaz-2y5-spn <3

[matchpointfaist]

won't you save me? ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

sheltered art x flirty reader pt ii

the second time art saw you, you were clean from your usual messy makeup, your hair pulled into a bun and a pink hoodie covering the frame he'd become uncomfortably familiar with. you had a coffee in one hand and a vape in the other, looking irritated and frazzled and not at all how he'd seen you the week prior.

he must have been too lost in thought to watch where he was going, or maybe you had him under some sort of trance, but next thing he knew his shirt was covered in iced coffee, and you were looking up at him with wide eyes, apologies spilling from your lips in record time.

"oh! oh, gosh, no, it's alright," he rambled, the cold liquid slicking his shirt to his chest. "it's my fault, i wasn't paying attention-" his breath caught as you pulled the hoodie over your head, leaving you in a lace trimmed tank top, much tighter than the pink fabric had been. just as he started to gain some composure, your hands were on him, blotting his shirt with your jacket like it was the most obvious solution in the world.

"i'm such a clutz," you laughed regretfully, wiping his shirt down, "i am so sorry," "it's okay!" his voice was suddenly hoarse, his face hot and hands shaking, "i can clean it up, don't ruin your hoodie," "i don't mind," and there it was- that smile that weakened his knees, the one he'd seen you giving all the boys at that stupid frat party, this time directed at him. and oh god, he was fucked.

"you're art, right?" you asked, pulling the hoodie away to survey the condition of his t shirt, "donaldson?" "yeah!" it came out quicker than he would've liked, "uh, yes, that's me. i didn't know we knew each other,"

"oh, i try to make a habit of knowing all the tennis boys," he could've sworn you were teasing him, "especially the blonde ones," "w-why's that?" he borderline squeaked, "do you like tennis, i mean?"

"sure, somethin like that," you grinned, and dear god, you winked at him, "cute necklace,"

and then, when art thought it couldn't get any worse, your black fingernails were on his silver crucifix, your eyes inspecting it curiously, "you christian?"

"catholic," he nearly choked out, "i- it's a crucifix, when they nailed him to the cross-" "i know what a crucifix is, donaldson," you rolled your eyes, but your smile was back; oh god, your smile.

"well i have to get to class," his heart was pounding, the tent in his sweats threatening to give him away, to expose him and all his impure thoughts and fantasies- your hand was on his arm. and he was so fucking gone.

"you should call me sometime," you said softly, your eyes all wide and sweet and your lashes were so long and oh god, there he was, thinking about your on your knees again. "i don't have your number," was all he managed, his breath stuck in his tightening throat.

"give me your phone," it was like a command, like you were controlling his actions, because before he could even think, you were typing your number into his cell and passing it back to him with another wink.

"see you, artie," you grinned, patting his shoulder, "oh, and you might wanna do some extra praying to make up for all that," you giggled as your eyes fell to his thighs, to the obvious tent, to the very thing he'd been so desperate to hide.

before he could protest, or make some last ditch excuse, you were gone, the smell of your perfume lingering enough to nearly make his mouth water.

he watched you go, each sway of your hips adding to the tension, adding to the twisted longing he felt for you.

that night, he hovered over your contact, debating what he'd even say to you. 'hey, it's art. i think i'm in love with you.' 'hi! it's art. i jerked off to you last week.' 'hey, it's art donaldson. you make me question my faith.' finally, 'hey, it's art, from earlier.'

your reply came minutes later, the vibration off his phone interrupting his nightly prayer, and he tried to ignore the guilt as he paused his talk with god to begin his arguably more important talk with you.

'hi, art from earlier.' you'd sent, 'whatcha doin?'

'fantasizing about you.' 'just getting ready for bed. you?'

'same.' and then there it was, and he felt sick, he felt restless and needy and depraved and you were on his screen, a selfie of you in your silk pajamas, your hair down just barely covering your chest and his own chest was growing so very tight, his breathing restricted, his eyes taking in every single detail.

'oh.' was all he could manage to reply, shifting uncomfortably in his boxers, his skin flushed, 'goodnight then.'

'night, artie :) hope you handled your little problem from earlier.'

oh, he'd handle it. god, he wished you could handle it for him.

[fallstaticexit]

The Art of Being Seen - a Nancy Landgraab story

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔗𝔴𝔬- 𝔘𝔫𝔦

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

Part II - Uni -After a traumatic outing that tears her away from her first love, 19-year-old Nancy Landgraab turns to her faith and her relationship with Geoffrey as a way to cope with her longing for Vanessa. Just as she starts to put up her walls, she meets five women, each teaching her valuable lessons about herself and about life.

Transcript under the cut

Transcript:

Nancy: Heavenly Father, help me to find peace in Your love and wisdom.

Nancy: Grant me the courage to resist temptation and to stay true to my faith. Help me understand Your will for my life and to trust in your plan. Help me...

Nancy Narrates: [For two years, I prayed until my voice grew weak]

Nancy Narrates: [Until my knees bruised from kneeling]

Nancy Narrates: [Until I forgot the color of her eyes]

Nancy: Ok, we can go now.

Geoffrey: How do you feel?

Nancy: Like I’m going to throw up. I hate crowds.

Geoffrey: You’re going to do great, Nancy.

Nancy: Are you a bettin’ man?

Geoffrey: I am now.

Nancy Narrates: [The tenderness I’ve developed for Geoffrey over the years surprised me]

Nancy Narrates: [When he returned from holiday break, I was suffering from a heartbreak I thought would kill me. All he could do was hold me as I mourned]

Nancy Narrates: [In the end, he was all that I had]

Nancy Narrates: [Loving him was the least I could do]

Becca: Hello! Have you accepted Jesus Christ into your heart? No? Think about joining our bible study group! There’s free pizza every Thursday!

Darling: I don’t know shit about this club if I’m being real with you. Coach is making me do it. Something about building your resume, don’t ask me. You joining or what?

Siobhan: A Landgraab on campus? Now that’s a treat.

Becca: [squeals] I know you! I can’t believe it’s really you!

Nancy: I’m sorry? Do I know you?

Becca: I’m Becca! Becca Clarke? I won the Landgraab Foundation Scholarship! You’re the reason I’m even here!! I am freaking out right now! My Nana will not believe this!! [gasps] Would you be interested in joining my bible study group? Of course you would! Is this your boyfriend? Sooo handsome!

Becca: Can I just say, that the Foundation is a true blessing from God. The opportunities you give to people like me is- [sniffles] sorry, I’m getting emotional.

[muffled voices]

Nancy: I- I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I thought you were-

Morgan: It’s cool, I get mistaken for all the other freaky witchy chicks that go here. [smirks] That’s a joke, by the way. I’m the only one. I’m Morgan Fyres. Interested in tarot card reading?

Nancy: Fyres? Is your father the owner of the hotel chains? Dominic Fyres?

Morgan: STEP father, actually.

Siobhan: If you’re looking for real Fyres royalty, then look no further. Siobhan. No need to introduce yourself; I know exactly who you are, Nancy Landgraab.

Morgan: [grumbles] Annnnd cue the cameras.

Siobhan: I’m the president of Theta Omega Pi, the same sorority Queenie Landgraab pledged to. She proudly hangs in our hall of fame, so it would be a privilege to welcome a true legacy into our sisterhood.

Becca: Hey! I found her first!

Morgan: How about you two back off? You’re bringing bad vibes to my stand.

Siobhan: Relax, creature of the night. I was going to discuss Nancy’s future with Theta.

Morgan: Maybe she wants to start tarot reading? This isn’t some business opp, fake Barbie wannabe.

Becca: T-t-tarot!? The devil’s board game!? The Landgraabs are Christians! She wants nothing to do with that, right, Nancy?

Siobhan: [sighs] Find your own Landgraab, Virgin Mary. Grown-ups are talking.

[distant bickering]

Darling: The fuck is a Landgraab?

[homelandersbitch]

♱ ₊˚ Keep those eyes on me. ⌒⏜꒦

‎ㅤ ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏₊ ⊹ Homelander x Employee ! Reader .ᐟ

⠀⠀ ▰ 🦇 𖦹 WARNINGS : 18+ only , children go away . May include : 18 plus setting and themes , cursing , sexual actions and descriptions , kinks such as daddy kink and God worship kinks , you've been warned .ᐟ ✹

Homelander quickly walked into the meeting room of the Vaught Towers with you scurring behind him as the doors shut behind you, locking instantly. Homelander stopped at the end of the large table as you followed after him as he began to speak in his usual tired of everyone and wanting them all to die voice .

" So, y/n. How are we going to fix those...listening problems of yours .? "

You stared at him with confusion in your eyes and face , what the hell did he mean by listening problems ? You were one of the best the company has had since ashley first started and now that she was in charge you were now homelander's main assistant , which you hated especially when he had his angry moments and would shout at half of the employees and watch them cower in fear as they wondered if he was going to let them go or kill them right there , God how many times you prayed to make sure to stay on his good side and now...here you were.

" S-sir I'm sorry but , I'm not sure I follow-"

That's not what he wanted to hear , especially not from his assistant and someone who he practically spent all his days with . He walked over to you and you quickly looked up at him as he stopped infront of you and stared into your eyes . His blue eyes staring into your eyes felt like that of his lazer eyes just melting into your skull and brain.

" Get on your knees , now . Or ill fucking lazer you to death . "

You quickly gulped but got onto your knees quickly and obediently , you didn't want to die especially not in a gruesome way such as having your boss kill you because he was having one of his bitchfits and you were the victim for the day . Once you got onto your knees homelander smiled and tilted your head up to look at him and he was gorgeous in that lighting , the way it showed off the blue in his eyes and the blonde hair and his perfect skin , he was just godlike and he knew it .

" That's a good fucking girl , look at you finally listening like a good fucking girl hm? How about we have some fun while we have our break ."

You gulped at that , you knew exactly what he meant by that . He was a very secluded person and that meant having alot of pent up sexual anger and tension and now , you were his plaything , before you could even think he quickly shoved his fingers into your mouth as he gave a sickeningly dark grin .

" That's it , just like that you fucking...dirty girl . Suck it like you need it . "

He said as you continued to suck on his fingers , which caused him to bite his lip . You could see how hard he was , he needed you badly and we wasn't leaving until he got what he wanted , which you knew you'd have to give him.

" Mmm...you ready for the real deal now sweetheart .?"

You nodded quickly and he began to undo his pants and take his already hard and leaking pre cum cock out . You stared at it for a moment and gulped at the size , he'd had to be the biggest you'd seen . You can hear him chuckling at your reaction to his cock and quickly moved your head up .

" You've never seen the dick of a god before ? "

You gawked at what he said and before you could even speak he shoved his cock into your mouth as you gagged at the size , he let out a groan as he began to thrust into your mouth and down yout throat as looked down at you and chuckled deeply .

" Mmm you better suck it like you mean it , Y/N . You better make your fucking god cum all in your stupid little mouth. That's all your good for anyway ."

You stared at him , he definitely had a bad god complex and he was making sure you knew that you were going to be the one to fill his need for it . He began to tug on your hair as we went faster and faster in your mouth as you let out a soft grunt as you sucked on him as best as you knew how and it seemed he really liked it because before you knew it you had him cumming down your throat as he let out a deep grunt

" F-fuck fuck...that was the fastest some fucking slut has made me cum."

He cleaned off his tip with your tongue before he pulled his pants back up as you sat there and took in everything that happened , your boss just used you as a fucktoy and your not mad or scared or feel used ...you feel proud that you were the one that made a god like him cum , and even he liked it .

" T-Thank you..my god...you tasted amazing ..."

" Y-Yes my god ..."

You stammered out as you slowly got off your knees which hurt you after his rough thrusting into your mouth , he looked you over as you stood back up fully . He examined you and gave a chuckle as he began to walk out of the room since your shared lunch break has ended .

" You've got some of my cum on your shirt sweetheart , but don't worry about it. You'll be needed again in 45 minutes. "

And with that he smiled and walked out of the room , leaving you staring out the window with excitement in your eyes .

꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦

( Maybe a part two?....hmmm if there's ever a part two I'll link that HERE.** )

[hoshiseon-digiarc]

desire ♱ 001

♰ pairings :: ot8 vampire!ateez x fem!witch!reader

♰ genre :: dark fantasy, smut, strangers to ?? to lovers, fluff, maybe slight angst?, soulmates/fated lovers

♰ gen. content :: polyamory , references to religious themes, witchcraft and magick, mythical beings of all kinds, mentions of other idols, vampires with magical abilities, switches povs

♰ chapter warnings :: fear/anxiety, description of injury

♰ word count :: 8.1k 0_0

♰ note :: this took me entirely too long but hey! first chapter woohoo!! this will be my first time ever writing a series but i'm very excited :] pls give me feedback i'd love to hear your thoughts! and if i missed any warnings lmk!!

♰ main m.list | series m.list | next ♰

i've been walking for quite some time, i realize probably much later than i should. the sun had started setting long ago and now the forest was almost too dark to really see anything. but i need this mushroom. if this ointment isn't finished by tomorrow the merchants will never buy it and then how will i feed myself for the next week or so- 

snap!

i feel my heart thump against my rib cage as my head whips up at the distinct sound of a twig snapping. i focus my gaze on where the sound came from and watch as a squirrel scuttles up the trunk of a large tree. i feel the tension in my body release a little. great, now i'm being paranoid. if i hadn't gotten so absorbed in that book then maybe i wouldn't have to be out here past dark searching for a damn plant. as i grumble to myself internally, i become less and less aware of my steps which is never good for someone who trips over thin air more than is probably considered normal. and in that moment, the universe seems to prove that point by way of me tripping over a large rock and falling flat on my stomach. i groan as pain shoots through my already bruised knees (from tripping prior to this). brushing off dirt and leaves i stand back up and huff. i accept defeat and turn to hopefully find my way back to my cabin. only to realize, i have no idea where i am. have i seriously wandered so far? i do a 360 and cannot recognize any of the trees surrounding me. anxiety starts to settle in my gut as i come to the conclusion i am very lost. you'd think living in the woods would teach me enough lessons about roaming said woods in the dark...but apparently not. even still, standing here will get me nowhere so i turn back the way (i think) i came from and start to make the journey back. i pray to every god there is that i do not manage to get more lost as i try to keep track of the trees that i am passing… with little luck since its only getting darker. 

ssssnap!

i freeze mid step as a branch snaps somewhere behind me. whatever that was sounded much bigger than a squirrel. my heart pounds in my chest as the overwhelming fear twists my gut. reluctantly, my head turns to the sound to see nothing but a vast, dark ocean of trees. the once comforting darkness spikes my paranoia as my eyes struggle to focus on my surroundings. i hear another branch snap and whip my head to my right. still, i see nothing but darkness. this is not good. with no other option, i continue the path i started. anxiety courses through me as i walk and now im acutely more aware of every little sound, down to the puff of my own breath leaving my mouth. as the fear crawls up my spine, i start to walk faster and faster until im damn near jogging. i continuously stumble over the natural debris covering the forest floor but i keep my brisk pace, not bothering to slow down.

as my boots catch on a particularly large tree branch, i fall and look up to see that i seem to have come into a decent sized... clearing. in the middle of the woods? i push myself to my feet and look around to see a near perfect circle of space between the cluster of trees. i step farther out of the tree line and strain my eyes to try and see anything that could help me identify where i am. but i definitely would have remembered this clearing if i'd ever stumbled across it before. i've never seen anything like this in these woods besides the clearing surrounding my own home. as i look around confusedly, i forget that there was a small chance i was being followed by something. instead astonishment replaces the fear as i look around. but not for long. i start to hear the distinct sound of crunching leaves coming from my right. this time my entire body freezes for a fraction of a second and i do not turn to see whatever it is coming for me. instead i turn left and start to run. as i sprint through the tree line, i make it long enough that the clearing behind me starts to morph back into endless trees. but turning back to look proves to be a mistake as i trip once again and fall, unable to catch myself as i collide with the ground. sharp pain shoots through my knee again and i know this time i would not just have a bruise. i wince and cry as i push into the dirt to roll onto my back. 

through my fear, i could only hear my boots making contact with the earth beneath me but now that i am still i can definitely hear the pursuit of something coming towards me. it doesn't sound like running but then again i may not be able to hear over the sound of my own pounding heart and heaving breaths. i attempt to scramble to my feet and push through the pain in my leg but i can only manage a weak limping jog. i feel tears pool in my eyes as i stop to lean my side against a tree. there's just no way i'll make it to my cabin like this. and there's no way i'd beat whatever it is that's following me. as the pain in my knee starts to throb, i sink lower until i'm sitting with my back against the tree. through my wallowing i failed to realize that the sound from before had stopped. as i turn my head to look around, i spot a silhouette off to my left. back from where i originally started running. it looks like.... a person? who in their right mind would be out this far? it seems like the seconds drag on as i stare wordlessly at the unmoving figure. i have no options to weigh so i wait. for impending doom most certainly. but there's nothing i can really do. trying to get up again really isn't practical and would just alert them to my location, if they don't see me already. 

i blink and suddenly the figure looks a lot closer than they were a second ago. no... my mind is playing tricks on me no one moves that fast. my heart rate kicks into high gear as the figure starts to become larger. they're definitely getting closer. my reflexes kick in and i scramble with no success to get onto my feet. i hear my breath stutter and a cry threatens to leave my lips as the figure finally really comes into view and then stops. though it's still very dark, they're close enough now that i can see the person is a man. he's human looking... enough. but that doesn't really quell my fear. he's still not close enough that he could hear me if i spoke in a normal tone but i know he can see me. i watch as his head tilts to the side for a second before he starts to walk, much slower now, towards me. 

"are you injured?" though he's still not very close, his voice carries and i can hear the genuine concern (and confusion) in his tone. he sounds human enough. i nod, not trusting my voice at this current moment. he walks until he's standing an arms length away and then crouches down. 

"i apologize. i didn't mean to frighten you, are you lost?" oh. though i tried to focus on his words i became quickly distracted by his voice. a smooth rich tenor that made my brain a little fuzzy. i still can't see his face clearly but he has to be pretty with a voice like that. i was so caught up in my own thoughts i completely ignored his question. "oh, that may not be an appropriate thing to ask... uh if you're okay with it, i may be able to help you." he quickly backpedals once he gets no response from me. it takes me a few seconds to answer but really what have i got to lose? only my literal life. i can't get anywhere like this and there's... something about him. i would say my intuition has never done me wrong and if i'm trusting it, he doesn't seem likely to hurt me. so i nod once again and try to will the shakiness out of my voice. 

"okay... i um, i can't walk." i say, my voice quiet as i look to my leg that is still in pain. he follows my gaze as if he could really see what i was referring to. nevermind the dark, he definitely can't see past the two skirts i have on and the knee high socks and combat boots. he seems to realize this fact as he clears his throat and turns back to me. 

"i can carry you... if that's alright with you, of course." he answers back. he almost sounds shy... or embarrassed? not being able to see his face clearly is really bugging me but i nod anyway. he moves to make it easier for him to maneuver me before an arm encircles my waist and i'm being lifted from my seated position. i quickly swing my arm to go around his shoulders, ignoring the warmth i feel creeping up my neck, and try to hold most of my weight. once he has me mostly lifted up he scoops his other arm under my legs. i hiss when the movement causes a jolt of pain through my knee. 

i feel him tense and i rush to reassure him. "i'm okay, sorry my knee is just.... i'm fine really." i say and he relaxes, letting out a soft ‘okay’ as he stands back up to full height. as he starts to walk i can't help but try and study his face. this close i can see him a bit more clearly but not by much, the only light being from the bright, full moon. i can see enough to notice his hair and the outline of his features but not much more than that. as i look at him, i feel a question bubble to the surface and can't help but voice it.

"why are you helping me?" i ask hesitantly, hoping it doesn't sound like an accusation. 

"well... had i not frightened you, you would not have gotten injured. i do sincerely apologize, i had not expected you to run." he says matter-of-factly, like that was the entire reason he approached me in the first place. even though i can feel that that’s not the entire reason he started to follow me, i see nothing else to say so we continue on in silence. i watch as the trees break and we end up back in the clearing. which confuses me but i say nothing. once we're a few paces away from the tree line he stops. expecting to see nothing, i turn and look out into the clearing. except now there's a very large mansion sitting in the middle of it. my jaw drops as i stare. there's absolutely no way i would've missed that! but then i feel it. there's a subtle tremor in the air like a shimmering in the energy. magick. it tingles against my senses and if i didn't practice magick i would never have felt it. but it's definitely there. there’s no way… illusion magick is hardly used anymore and you'll find very few who are able to conjure illusions around anymore, most magick users being wary of them. so how he managed an illusion this strong is beyond me. i reach out with my senses, trying to feel the man's aura but i sense nothing out of the ordinary. he feels… normal. so how in the hell- he's..not alone. as the realization dawns on me, the mansion comes to life, lights turning on inside and out. 

"ah, this would probably be a good time to mention that i do not live alone." he says sheepishly as he looks down at my awestruck expression. "most of my housemates should be asleep or off to their own activities so we most likely won't be disturbed." i don't miss the maybes in that statement. 

"oh...okay." i breathe out still not believing my eyes. just as he's about to continue walking, the grand front door slowly swings open. i think i hear him mutter something under his breath but i don't pay attention long enough to try and discern what it was. the man standing at the door is tall in stature and i notice a similarity in the way they carry themselves with the grace of someone of high status. almost royal in a way. he strides down the steps towards where we stand but stops farther away than i assumed he was going to. 

"who's this?" the taller man says as he looks between me and the man currently cradling me. i probably should've gotten his name. he seems to realize this too as he looks down at me with furrowed brows. 

"y/n... i'm y/n." i answer instead, trying to save the awkwardness.

"and i'm yunho, nice to meet you. what...happened, seonghwa?" yunho smiles as he says it but he shares a look with his housemate, who i now know the name of, that i don't understand. 

"i startled her and she fell while running. her knee seems to be injured." seonghwa summarizes but there's another look that passes between the two. like they're not just having this conversation out loud. 

"ah, i see. well in that case, you're in good hands." yunho shifts his gaze to me and his eyes soften, similar to the way it would if you were trying to console a wounded animal. i can't help but smile at the kindness in his tone. seonghwa walks up to yunho and the latter turns to go back up the steps with us in tow. as we walk through the door, i'm immediately overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the interior. and we're only in the foyer! i can't even begin to imagine the rest of the mansion. 

the decor is dark; a blend of black, silver, and shades of red everywhere you turn. in the middle of the foyer sits a small pedestal with a statue of a woman with devilish wings standing atop it. she stares up with long, clawed hands reaching up towards the luxurious chandelier that glitters like diamonds. the floors are dark marbled tile and the ceilings are higher than i thought was ever possible. there's a wide, curved staircase on either side leading up to what i can assume is another beautiful foyer. down the hall in front of us leads to what i can see is the living room on one side and the kitchen and dining area on the other. i can't see the details from here but i see the decor in there is also black and red. the entire place is lit up in a warm glow from the light fixtures lining the walls. 

as i admire the opulence, i forget about the two men waiting with me. that is until i feel eyes on me. when i snap out of my daze i see yunho looking at me, there's a gentle smile curving his lips and w o w. in the dark i couldn't make out his features very well but... he is beautiful. even more so than his home. my eyes rove over his tall, lean figure and i try not to let my jaw hang. his brown hair is highlighted with honey blonde streaks throughout and his skin is perfectly clear. he's dressed head to toe in black with a long overcoat that brushes the back of his shins. the only color in his ensemble is the red on the inside of his coat and red accents on the undone buttons of his loose black shirt. the smile curving his lips slowly morphs into a smirk as i continue to stare. we make eye contact and i shift my gaze immediately, embarrassed at having been caught. 

"we will have to go upstairs, all of my supplies are in the study at the moment." seonghwa says apologetically, though i only realized halfway through his statement that he was speaking to me. i turn to look up at him and am once again struck by beauty beyond my comprehension. no seriously, what did i walk into? and how many more of them are there?! i try (and fail) to stare less but i can't help it. his eyes are sharp, almost piercing but also kind as he looks at me. blonde strands of hair fall into his eyes and i have the strangest urge to push them away. his skin is clear even this close and he smells delightful. has he smelt like this the whole time and why have i just noticed? i snap out of it quickly enough that neither of them suspects my silence and reassure him that it's fine. 

"i'll leave you both to it, i have things to attend to. but if you need anything let me know." yunho smiles and bows his head at me before passing another silent look with seonghwa. he walks away, hands in his pockets as he takes the steps. he turns as he gets to the top, sparing me a last look and there's something i can't put my finger on in his eyes. but then he's disappearing down the hall before i can decipher what his look meant. 

seonghwa

i look down at the girl in my arms out of my periphery again. for the millionth time since we arrived at the mansion. i wonder if she's noticed me stealing glances at her. not likely considering she has yet to mention it. i just don't understand. she shouldn't have been able to get into the clearing let alone our home. she stumbled through the barrier completely unaware of the alarm she raised inside these very walls. we all felt it when she passed through. the dim trill in the air, a slight shift in the energy. i can still feel the way my hair stood on edge and my senses heightened. our magick is powerful, we'd made very sure of it. so how was she here? and why? from what i can tell, she seems very human. she smells very human. 

she was right to have run at first but then she put up no fight coming here. it made no sense. this poor girl... she has no earthly clue what she's willingly walked herself into. or rather allowed me to lead her into. even now as i carry her up the steps, she seems utterly calm. of course i can still feel the way her heartbeat hasn't gone back to normal and i can feel the nervousness around the edges of her energy. but every time she looks up at me, her eyes are clear. no worry creasing her forehead or apprehension in her gaze. just clear curiosity. and i feel no anxiety with her here. not really. except for the swirling confusion, i feel... relaxed. definitely not how i should feel with an intruder in our veiled home. but i can sense it on yunho too. he wasn't afraid, just curious. maybe a little concerned. for her... she really shouldn't be here. 

i look at her once again and can’t help but be endeared at the awestruck expression that hasn’t left her features since we first stepped through the door. her eyes are wide with wonder as she looks around the halls and her lips are slightly parted as she takes everything in. i don’t even realize how long i’m staring, my eyes tracing over her features as we walk. despite how human she looks, she’s… beautiful. in an imperfect way. bright eyes, full lips, round cheeks, moles and freckles scattered across her nose. i watch as her lashes flutter every time she blinks and the way her tongue pokes out to wet her lips before she closes them. she’s enchanting. the thought snaps me out of my trance and i look forward to see us approaching the study. 

as we come to the door of the study i can hear the low murmur of voices on the other side. i pause, not wanting to disturb whoever is on the other side and also not wanting anymore of my housemates to know she's here. not that they can't smell her or sense her... but it would be best that no one else saw her. i don’t get much time to ponder my options because within the next second the study door swings open to reveal two more of my housemates. how lovely.

reader

oh you’ve got to be kidding me… i probably have the facial expression of someone who’s just seen a comet but really you can’t blame me. not only am i astonished by the sight of the immaculate study with a large, dark mahogany desk and more shelves of books than i could ever afford. but there’s also two very beautiful men staring at me inquisitively from the open doorway. 

“ah, i wasn’t aware we had company.” the shorter of the two says, clear apprehension in his tone as he looks me over. our eyes lock and mine roam over his face, his features somehow both soft and sharp. his blonde hair is styled and he’s dressed in a long, black overcoat that brushes the backs of his knees with red trim on the bottom with a vest over the white button up he wears. the buttons on his garments are all silver as is the jewelry that adorns his wrists and neck. my eyes trail over the necklaces he’s layered, all looking like they’d take me years to scrounge up enough money for one. grand, colored jewels and crosses hang off the chains of multiple while some just look like chain links. i glance back up at his face to see him already looking at me, a smirk curling his lips and a brow quirked. i quickly turn my attention to the man standing next to him to see him already looking at me, his gaze heavy and unreadable. where the other man’s features are softer, his are all sharp. piercing eyes, angled nose, plump lips, and a sharp jawline. he’s dressed in similar clothing except the inside of his coat is a deep purple and he has much more accessories. large rings, long necklaces, a plethora of bracelets. the top few bottons of his shirt are popped open and the muscular planes of his chest are on display. he’s much taller than the other two men and his long, muscular-looking legs show for it. his eyes never leave my face and for some reason, the look in his gaze makes me nervous causing me to look away quickly. 

“i apologize, she got injured and i offered my assistance. it is much too dark for anyone to be out there alone. we won’t be very long.” seonghwa says, sounding only slightly apologetic. it seems like he has more to say, an undercurrent to his tone, but he just shares a long look with the shorter male. the two men standing together look to each other, another one of those unspoken looks passing between the two. 

“that’s fine, we were… just about finished in here anyway.” the tallest one states and his voice, much deeper than the other two, pulls my gaze back to him. although he was speaking to seonghwa, his intense gaze stayed trained on me. there’s a question in his gaze but i’m not too sure what it’s about. i’m once again forced to look away but not before i got to drink in his features a little. it really shouldn’t surprise me that these two are just as gorgeous as seonghwa and yunho but still i am awestruck by their features. the two leave the room, both brushing past us quickly and not sparing a last glance as they continue down the long hall. 

seonghwa very quickly walks into the study and pushes the door closed with his foot. did i hear the lock click or am i imagining things? seonghwa sets me down gently on a soft brown sofa, being conscious of my injured knee. once he sees that i’m mostly comfortable, he paces over to the large desk and rifles through the drawers before pulling out a first aid kit. i take the time to really take in the room, straining my eyes to read the spines of the books i could see from where i sit. i can recognize a plethora of books on foliage and herbs, some i know i have on my own shelves.

“those books are san’s. he takes an interest in anything to do with plants and herbs.” seonghwa’s voice from the desk startles me out of my daze as i look to him. he looks to be pretty busy shuffling through the first aid, i didn’t think he was paying me any mind. but there’s a gentle smile on his face that i know i am not the cause of. there’s a fondness in his tone and aura when he spoke of this san, that must be why he’s smiling.

“well, ’san’ and i have something in common then.” i respond, a smile that mirrors his playing on my lips. 

“is that what you were in the forest for?” seonghwa inquires as he rounds the desk with what looks to be an ice pack, black gloves, and bandages in hand. 

i nod. “yes, i was looking for something to finish off this ointment i'm making. i was supposed to have it by tomorrow to take into town but… i don't think that's going to happen.” i say the last statement with a sigh as i look down at my hands fiddling in my lap. 

seonghwa hums as he comes to stand next to me on the sofa and i take note of how tall he is now that he’s not holding me. he kneels down to be directly in front of my knee, pulling the gloves over his nimble fingers. “well, i truly do not think it’d be safe for you to try and find your way back to your home now that night has fallen. even if one of us went with you, the forest is… different at night. but san may be able to help you find that plant in the morning, if that's something you'd appreciate. i don't assume this area of the forest is familiar to you?” as he speaks, he starts to move my skirts up and out of his way but my socks are still an issue. 

i answer him as i lean down to help him remove my boots and socks. “no… no i’m not familiar with this area at all. and i actually have no idea how i found myself over here… i wasn't meant to go too far but then it started to get dark and i lost my way… a few times.” i keep my gaze off him as embarrassment floods my mind. once my clothing is out of the way, we're both able to actually see the injury and i hear seonghwa take a sharp inhale next to me. that doesn't look pretty at all. my knee is inflamed and swollen with a nasty looking bruise right underneath and small cuts all over. i reach out to gingerly press two fingers to it and immediately retract my hand with a hiss. 

“how bad is your pain?” i look to seonghwa to see him studying the injury with furrowed brows. his gloved hands are cold as he shifts my leg back and forth, probably trying to gauge my mobility. but even that slight movement causes pain to shoot through my leg and i wince, reflexively trying to move out his gentle grasp. he murmurs an apology as he looks up at me through his lashes. i’m momentarily distracted by his gaze but quickly shake myself out of it. 

“it's… pretty bad. there's a dull throb even when i don't move it.” i answer his earlier question and try my hardest to keep still as he grabs a wipe from his lap to start cleaning the cuts. seonghwa nods but otherwise stays quiet as he starts the process of fixing the injury. we sit in silence as he cleans, bandages, and wraps my knee. i find it very difficult to keep my eyes off his face as his hands move nimbly on my skin. his beauty is incomparable, strong brows furrowed with concentration, sharp eyes with pretty lips. as if he can feel my stare, his eyes flick up to mine. i look away quickly pretending to stare at the shelf behind his head. i really hope he can’t hear the way my heartbeat sped up with that nanosecond of eye contact because it feels as if the organ might jump out of my chest. a man i just met should not have this effect on me. get a hold of yourself! 

seonghwa continues his work on my knee, seemingly completely unaware of my inner turmoil. between the calming silence and seonghwa’s gentle touches against my leg, i find myself relaxing further and further into my seat. just as my eyes start to feel heavy, a soft knock sounds on the wooden doors. both our heads look to the doors before i hear seonghwa sigh and mumble something along the lines of “excuse me” under his breath. he stands up and brushes the wrinkles out of his pants, making his way to the door. the beautiful, billowy sleeves of his white blouse sway with his arms as they swing at his sides and i watch him walk as if in a trance. i snap myself out of it and instead turn my gaze to inspect my knee. now that it’s cleaned and bandaged it doesn’t look as gruesome. the cool ice pack is relieving the pain and throbbing but the swelling won’t be down for a while. i’ll have to wait for seonghwa to make a decision on whether i’ll require more care or not but it doesn’t feel like anything more than a sprain. i test it out by twisting my leg and of course, feel pain shoot up my leg but surprisingly not as bad as before. my inspection is interrupted when seonghwa opens the door and a voice i recognize speaks up. 

“i apologize for disturbing you but hongjoong needs you. right now.” i hear seonghwa make a disapproving sound and i turn to look at the two. yunho’s already looking at me and seonghwa seems to be hesitant to leave. 

“i’m sure i’ll be fine, you can leave me if you need to attend to other things. can’t do much like this anyway.” i gesture to my leg and try to smile reassuringly. truthfully, the thought of being left alone in this beautiful strange home is making me nervous but i don’t need either of them to know that. both their brows furrow as they listen to me, neither of them really trusting my words. finally, seonghwa nods with a resigned sigh.

“i would not advise putting pressure on it but you should be alright to walk soon. allow the swelling some time to alleviate and do be careful.” he instructs and turns with a bow. yunho comes into the study and closes the door behind him. he takes long strides to the sofa opposite of mine and takes his seat. just like with seonghwa, i become entranced with the way he moves so gracefully despite his long limbs and stature.

“if you don’t mind me asking, how’d you do that?” yunho inquires curiously. his eyes are on my bandaged knee and he flicks them to my face for a second before looking back. 

mildly embarrassed, i laugh before explaining how i’d gotten here. i choose to leave out the part where seonghwa absolutely terrified me and pretend that me falling was all my own doing. i brush my hair back out of my face as i finish my spiel and it dawns on me that i probably look an absolute mess. i suppress the urge to cringe into myself, suddenly self-conscious. 

if yunho notices my sudden shift in attitude, he doesn’t mention it. instead he hums and nods as he looks back to me. “how does it feel? i know seonghwa’s pretty skilled with things like that. are you in any pain?” he asks and something about his voice puts my nerves at ease. i try not to think any longer about how the man sitting in front of me makes me feel and focus on answering his questions.

i shrug and shift my knee back and forth but notice the pain has subsided significantly. huh… that’s strange. “well… it doesn’t really seem to hurt at all anymore. doing this before hurt quite a bit but now i feel… fine.” i say, confusion lacing my words. i bend my knee experimentally and although it feels sore, the pain is barely noticeable. my brows furrow and i put my leg back down. yunho seems to understand my confusion and chuckles. 

“seonghwa’s got a way with wounds. we’ve all experienced it, trust me. you’ll be back to normal quite fast.” he stands and walks over to the desk, putting away the supplies seonghwa left out by accident. as he busies himself with that, i feel my attention shift back to the row of herbal books. one book in particular standing out to me. the spine is dark green with big, gold letters in a beautiful font and on the base, a golden honey cup mushroom. 

“would you like to read it?” i hear yunho’s voice from behind me and i jump, obviously too distracted to have noticed him move from the desk. he chuckles under his breath and the sound gives me butterflies. i shake away the feeling, internally reprimanding myself. “sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. those are sannie’s books but i’m sure he wouldn’t mind you taking a look. do you want me to get it for you?” i turn around to see him leaning back against the shelves behind the sofa i’m on. this man is sinfully beautiful. 

clearing my throat, i respond. “no no, i think i can get up.” i lean down and pull my socks back on before carefully swinging my legs over to plant my feet on the marbled floors. i hear rustling behind me and see yunho making his way around the sofa. i push my hands into the cushions underneath me as i try to stand. yunho extends an arm to me a little panickedly, not trusting my balance and injured knee. but i wave my hand and get to my feet on my own. once i’m standing, i make sure to shift my weight to the non-injured leg and take a step. my face scrunches as i feel the soreness in my knee but it’s nothing i haven’t handled before. 

i limp my way over to the shelf and immediately my gaze zeros in on the pretty green book. i run my index finger over the lettering that reads “Mushroom Magick” before gently pulling it off the shelf. the cover has the same phrase with many different kinds of mushrooms decorating a circle around the words. the book feels familiar even though i know i don’t own this one and i flip to a random page. the page has a plethora of notes scrawled in rushed handwriting with highlights on phrases the owner of the book deemed important. i smile to myself reading some of the notes i assume the aforementioned ‘sannie’ left. i continue to flip through and read over the random notes they left before i finally come to a page without any annotations. this is where i assume they left off but i continue to skim through the pages until a presence behind me breaks my focus. i snap my head to see yunho standing a few paces behind me with his hands behind his back. he seems startled by the way i turned but recovers quickly with a polite smile.  

“i’m sorry to disturb you… but i promised seonghwa i’d make sure you were resting and i noticed your shifting. you can bring the book with you to the sofa, you probably shouldn’t be standing on your leg for so long.” yunho explains as he gestures to said sofa. in all honesty, i hadn’t even noticed my shifting so his observation is impressive… but that also means he’d been watching me pretty carefully and the thought makes me a little nervous. i have half the mind to decline his offer but a part of me feels like he’s more persistent than that. with a resigned sigh and nod, i limp back over to the sofa, mushroom book in my hand with my index finger in between the page i’m on to make sure i don’t lose it. i take my seat and he follows suit sitting, with much more grace than i had, on the sofa opposite to me. i notice his lack of entertainment and wonder for a second what he’s going to do while we sit here but decide that’s none of my concern before opening the book back up to the page i was on. 

the room is silent save for the sound of our a clock ticking and the pages of the book in my hands turning. i become quickly engrossed in what i’m reading, so much so i pay no mind to the man in the room with me. though i did look up one time when he got up to go to the desk. and maybe i stared at his figure for much longer than was necessary. it’s not like he noticed, by the time he’d turned back around my nose was in my book. a few more minutes and pages later, he gets back up again. this time he goes to examine a different shelf, one i can’t decipher the contents of from where i’m sat. i watch as he paces before he sighs softly to himself. he must feel my eyes because he swivels to turn to me. i snap my head down and try to refocus on the book but i can see from my periphery, him making his way over to the other sofa. i look up again as he sits and send him a small smile which he returns. i can see he wants to say something so i wait for him to speak before turning away. 

“would you… like a tour of the mansion? i can see you’re enjoying your book so i apologize but… i feel i might lose it being stuck in this room.” his smile is shy as he asks. he tries to look relaxed but the bouncing of his leg is hard to miss. i consider his offer as i stare at the ground, not really able to look any of them in the eye for very long. what i’d seen of their home was absolutely atonisihing and it’s hard for me to even imagine what the rest may look like so out of sheer curiosity (and maybe a small desire to want to be around his calming presence) i nod my agreement. 

his smile widens as he stands, holding his hands behind his back. i close the book, making a mental note of the page i was on in case i come back before placing it down on the cushion beside me. i get to my feet and i see yunho’s arm come from behind his back, probably to offer me support, but then he retracts it just as quickly when he sees me walking fine on my own. i start for the door, listening as yunho falls into step behind me. once we reach the door he side steps around me and reaches for the handle, pushing the door open and letting me step out into the hallway before him. the house is quiet as i look down the long hallways, yunho closing the door behind me before coming up on my right side. he smiles down at me as i look to him for directions and standing this close i can finally see just how tall he is. he gestures down the hallway to our right and turns to start walking, me having to play catch up to keep in time with his long strides. 

“hongjoong, seonghwa, and i designed this entire place ourselves. though most of the detail was seonghwa hyungs’ ideas.” he explains as we keep a leisure pace, allowing me to take in the beautiful architecture and artwork on the walls. we pass by many doors, yunho telling me what lies behind each one as we pass. another smaller study that only a few of them use, a few bedrooms one of which is unoccupied, a library that belongs to someone named ‘yeosang’. the heels of our boots clack against the marbled tile floors and his coat rustles as it fans out behind his long legs in the same way my skirts rustle as i walk. but a beautiful painting stops me in my tracks and yunho slows to a stop alongside me. i reach my hand out to brush over the canvas with barely my fingertips, mouth agape in awe. in the painting a beautiful woman with wings much like the ones on the statue in the foyer sits in the middle of a meadow, in one hand a large pomegranate and the other a skull of an animal. her lips are stained red with the juices of the pomegranate but the way she’s depicted licking it off her teeth as the juice drips off her tongue makes it look like blood. she’s completely nude, skin glowing from the light of the pale moon in the dark, starry sky over her head. a crow sits perched near her feet, picking at the seeds she took out the pomegranate and a cat is curled by her side, sleeping peacefully. her long dark hair flows beautifully down to her thighs, nearly brushing over the sleeping kittens ears. 

it’s completely unlike any painting i’ve seen, the artist putting such detail into the setting and atmosphere of the scene depicted. there’s something serene and intimate about the mood, like your’e peeking in on a moment between this woman and her companions. i turn to look at yunho to see him admiring the painting much like i was just doing. there’s a faint smile on his lips as his eyes trace over it before looking over to me.  it’s then that the feeling one of the residents of this home must have painted this themselves presents itself in my thoughts. 

“it took yeosang years to perfect this masterpiece but it’s one of his most prized pieces of work.” yunho confirms my previous suspicions as he brings up this ‘yeosang’ once again. looking back to the painting i can offer no other response but open-mouted awe. yunho chuckles at my expression. “yeosangie would be very flattered by your clear admiration. would you like to see more of his art or the rest of this wing?” he leaves the choice up to me as if it’s an easy decision. i look at him and then down the hall, lips parting to answer but the sound of a door opening pulls both of our attention. yunho turns to face down the hallway ahead of us as a figure steps out the opened door into the hallway with us. from the way he’s positioned, the other person can probably barely see me behind yunho’s giant figure. i try to step to the side to see down the hall but yunho’s arm closest to me moves up very subtly, a silent way of telling me to stay put. 

“yunho? who were you talking to?” a clear, slightly husky voice asks. it sounds like whoever it was has just woken up. 

“ah… no on-” yunho starts to deny my presence for reasons i don’t understand. a pit forms in my gut as anxiety creeps up my spine. why wouldn’t this other man be able to know i was here? i shift my weight to my non-injured leg, biting at my bottom lip nervously. the movement was a mistake because my skirts shift and ripple behind yunho’s legs. the other man’s eye immediately zone in on the movement and i freeze. i see yunho’s shoulders tense as the other man’s gaze slowly trails back up to look his housemate in the eye. then yunho releases a puff of air letting his shoulders drop and he steps to the side ever so slightly. “seonghwa brought her here. she got lost in the forest and hurt herself. i was just showing her around.” yunho explains, sounding defeated. the other man looks me over with his head tilted and cat-like eyes narrowed in suspicion. he’s not as tall as yunho but is broader than him, wide shoulders drawing my attention even from this distance. his jet black hair is ruffled from having just been asleep. he’s clad in a black t-shirt and sweatpants, the most casual dress of any the men i’ve seen thus far. our gazes lock and he seems to be trying to read me as he stares, eyes flitting around my face.

yunho breaks the tense silence by clearing his throat. “y/n, this is san. i think i mentioned him to you earlier in the study. san, this is y/n.” all san does in response is hum, looking away from me back to yunho. 

“does hongjoong know you’re showing her around?” san inquires, brow raised. yunho looks away, scratching the back of neck nervously. ah, that must’ve been why he didn’t want san to see me. but who was this ‘hongjoong’? every time he’s been mentioned, they speak of him in this high regard. “yunho… do you even know how long seonghwa plans on keeping her here? should she really be seeing… everyone?” as he asks the last question, san’s gaze turns to me again. there isn’t as much hardness in his gaze, just apprehension. like he doesn’t trust me. i suppose that would make sense, i am a random stranger in his home. yunho opens his mouth to speak but i cut in before he can get whatever he was going to say out. 

“i don’t plan on being here much longer, i assure you. i appreciate all of seonghwa’s kindness but i have things to attend to back at my own home. he was just offering me shelter for the night since it’s dark and i lost my way. in the morning, i’ll be going back to my cottage.” i answer san’s inquiries with a polite smile. both men turn to me as i speak and san’s eyebrow quirks up again. 

“uh, weren’t you searching for something? san may be able to help you find it!” yunho says, head turning back to the other man who gives him an incredulous look. 

san sighs as he looks back to me, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “what is it you were looking for?” he asks in a bored tone that offends me ever so slightly. what is his issue? 

“you don’t have to help me, i’m perfectly capable of finding it on my own.” i answer with indignation, matching his stance. san’s bored expression breaks as he tries to fight off a smirk.

“if that were the case, would you have gotten yourself lost?” he asks with an irritating self-satified smirk on his lips. my arms drop from my chest as my brows furrow but san pays me no more mind, turning back to his bedroom door. “if you’d like my help, yunho or seonghwa can bring you to me tomorrow morning.” and with that he walks into his room and shuts the door behind himself. yunho and i are left in the silent hallway as irritation stirs in my gut. 

“do you… still want to see the rest?” yunho asks softly as he looks at me. 

i turn to him and smile. “yes, you were saying something about seeing more of the art?”

♰ note :: cliffhanger tehe >:) and we met quite a few members... pls pls leave feedback i want to hear you thoughts!! if you enjoyed consider rbing.

[londonfallen]

take your clothes off. lie down. / morishrouds

he so rarely surprises it anymore. and that isn't a bad thing, the lack of spontaneity—it can be comfortable, or comforting, particularly for those like themselves who are so often dearly without the luxury of security. it could very easily guess how he might react to any one situation when it came to matters between them : how his body would tense when it kissed him, or vice versa, his desperation in pretending his yearning did not exist—how long that era lasted 'tween them! it would sooner run out of space to tally the times it had caught his gaze lingering on its lips as it spoke, and when they had started to explore a greater intimacy, where his gaze would trail the nights it strolled in with a little more than the top few buttons of its blouse undone. it knows the extremes in his touch : the assurances it'd need whisper for him to touch it more boldly, instead of leaving his hands trembling as they looped around its wrist or waist, or lay splayed across its chest. it knows what he's capable of, at most times.

none of this, though, accounts for the few times he manages to surprise it still.

" ah— we are making demands now, are we, angioletto? " it suspects the smug lilt to its voice would be of no surprise, but his expression is so unwavering ... he looks at it so sternly! and that's rather attractive, it notes, eyes squinting in softer regard as it sits itself back on their bed, ankles crossed. " if i listen ... " it hums, as if it is not already toying with the buttons at its collar as it speaks, playing with them between its fingers. there's a certain charm to it, if it does this properly—it is no toreador, but that does not mean the art of seduction is something beyond its reach. " ... you will be sure to make it worth our while. " one button, two, as it pushes itself backwards, hand sliding along the bed as it uncrosses its legs, its own sultry gaze kept steady on his own as it takes to sprawling itself out for him to see.

this is hardly the first time it's made a show out of undressing itself—or him, oft was it that it was given lead. there's artistry, true, but it also just finds the matter fun. if done right, especially with someone so easily worked up, it wouldn't have to lay a hand on anyone other than itself to have his features flushed the most beautiful shade of red. and it's quite deft, when it finally bites its tongue and allows its lips to curl instead to a coquettish, closed-lip smile as it draws its hand 'cross its front. slowly down, over the thin fabric of its clothing, then slowly up, pulling the fabric loose from beneath its belt in the process until its fingers catch buttons again, and one by one, they fall undone, granting him further flashes of skin when it pushes the fabric aside with its palm.

both its shirt and jacket now hang loose from its shoulders : all it really needs to do is shrug, but that's too simple—not as intimate ... and intimacy is what it strives for, after all. it's the smallest flair, breaking its steeled gaze to duck its head down, hair falling 'cross its face so it can make a show out of peering out from behind its bangs, the fang caught on its lip made a touch more seductive then when it finally shrugs both blouse and coat from its shoulders, and promptly discarded.

its belt is next, as it lies back fully with a quieted sigh, chest rising and falling at a steady pace with its false-breaths. it doesn't take long to undo the clasp, pull it free from where its kept snug against its waist and discard it too—and it takes even less to free itself from its pants, too, dropped into the pile with the rest when it raises its hips with what little space it needs to. but it stops with its underclothes, taking the moment to sit up and properly catch his wandering eye again, head lolled 'gainst its shoulder the more its smile starts to widen.

" come impress me, caro mio ... " it purrs, resting its weight 'gainst one arm propped against the bed where its other hand wanders, drawing its fingertips over both the growing bulge 'tween its thighs, and further below, fang sinking into its lip as it pushes its fingers a little further—the damp fabric pressing up 'gainst its slit for all too brief a moment before its hand draws over itself again, hooking its fingers 'neath the waistband before, just like the rest, it raises its hips and adds the clothing to the building pile at the end of the bed. its quite comfortable in its nudity, truth be told, hardly batting an eye 'gainst how it keeps its thighs spread wide in open invitation.

[verlaineszz]

"My lover, take cover, it's time for fire!"

PRINCESS AFAB! READER x YOKAI! FOREST PROTECTER DAZAI!

( ၴႅၴ+—SUMMARY: The kingdom particularly wasn't fond of the princess due to the conservative misogynistic beliefs, they expected a boy from the start to take over the throne, so the mistreatment happened since the princess was born. Jagged breathing filled the air as the princess ran through the forest as an escape, it was the middle of the night before the princess hid behind a tree, taking deep breaths and looking around before getting surrounded by a red fog and circled by a tall figure with tails and ears, a figure that was sooned to be destined the princess's savior.

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖FLUFF + SLIGHT ANGST + ROYAL AU˖˚ֶָ֢‧࿔

A/N: I'll let you guys get a good ending.. I guess........ ;-;

also the first part is just a backstory and before reader ran away!!

ᯓ ⁺₊ ♱ .ᐟ — WARNINGS: Cursing, small super duper small mention of blood, a good ending, misogyny (from the kingdom, not dazai -_-..), petnames

Originally, the kingdom wanted a boy. Everybody was praying for another boy to be born since the first beliefs everyone had, that a man will always be stronger, and will always be the one that would do better on the throne. All the kingdoms joy slowly dissappeared when they heard a female was the one that was gonna be born, everyone became devasted.. Which led you to being known as a disappointment to the entire kingdom. All eyes went to your younger brother, same features as you and characteristics but the difference was, he was a male.

The favoritism between you and your brother was so different. Your parents indifference towards you was evident that you weren't special to them.

All this treatment towards your brother made him act immature and spoiled.

Now to present times.. Your parents currently made a fool out of you during one of the royal events, while they praised your brother. During the whole scenario, your hands were clutched and your knuckles white, it hurt. Everyone stared and laugh, your own family did this to you.

As they laugh, you slowly excused yourself and walk away, the second you left the sights of the crowd, you ran. You ran as fast as you could. You went in your room and removed some of the layerd of your dress, everything was heavy. It was overstimulating, tears escaped from your eyes because of how much anger you held against your family, you wore something lighter to go out, some longer bloomers, socks, an above the ankle length skirt and you packed your things in a slingbag, a dagger slid down the thigh garter pocket incase of self defense, you took your cloak and put it around you.

You looked around and outside the window if anyone was watching you, you were paranoid. It was already near dark so you snuck out.

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉°‧₊˚.

Running through the woods was tough, the rough and spikey rocks were always in the way, it was getting dark but atleast the stars and the moonlight illuminated brightly so you can atleast have some light source, during the first period of running, you tripped and scraped your knee multipe times, you couldn't help to run. You felt all the negative feelings anyway..

Your breath was unsteady, the blood dripped down your knee and you slowed down, your movements became sluggish, you sigh and walk farther in the forest, having no clue where you even were right now. You had a map but you were too tired to get it out, as you walked sluggishly, at the corner of your eye you saw something. A black figure circling fast.

You gulped and stop dead at your tracks from fear, this can't be happening right? You weren't even aware that there. Might've been ghosts around the area, you cover your mouth with shakey arms to stop yourself from screaming, you began to ran.

Your breath became jagged as you ran, sweat trickled dowm your back as you ran, without looking down where you stepped, you tripped again. Leaving a patch of blood on the ground, you try to catch your breath and you sit down, leaning on a tree before seeing red fog.. It was a beautiful crimson red. You crawl backwards, letting out a gasp as a tall figure immerged from the fog, he had brown brunette hair, brown eyes, 9 tails and fox ears on his head.. He grinned as he looked at you, walking to you slowly.

He wore a dark crimson red hakama kimono and a mischievous grin.

"What the.. Who are you?! Don't get any closer!" you yelled, he tilted his head to the side with pursed lips, he stared at your bleeding legs and bruised arms. You notice this action and cover them up, he sighed and obliged, not getting any closer since he respected your boundaries.

"But your injured. I can smell the reek of blood from you, yknow." he pouted and looked to the side with his arms crossed, still keeping a safe distance from you.

"This is none of your business." you snarked back

"Maybe it is." he grinned at you, he already knew who you were, he has been guarding the forests for years, he always knows what the news are in the city, and that led him to catch an interest towards you, he somehow empathizes with you.

"Unless you want that to get infected." he slowly walked closer to you, he bent down and checked your wounds as you sat there, not really knowing what to do.. He was quite attractive, but then again, you don't trust anyone.. But he did have a point.

You look to the side and scratch the behind of your neck, his presence was oddly comforting but the suddenness made you feel weird, it was like a paradox, and you didn't know if you should let him get even near you.. He had 9 tails and ears for godsake...

He looked at your tearstained face and he smiles softly, "Do you have a place to stay at? What're you even doing here anyway.."

"... I dont, but I'm here because i ran away."

"tsk tsk tsk.." he shaked his head, "Don't be so reckless next time, since you are a pretty little thing. Why dont i help you out?"

You raise a brow, "Really? You will?" you ask skeptically.

He chuckles and puts his hands on your wounds, your eyes widens when he touched you, it stung before a crimson glow emitted from his hand, the glow healed your wounds.

"Wait..how..?" you look back at him in awe, he laughed and rest his elbow on his knee while his cheek was againts his palm. "Don't worry about that bella, do you want a place to stay at for tonight?"

You blinked, "uh.. And how do i know i can trust you?"

"I just healed you?" he replied back.

He did have a point.. "Okay, i do need a place to stay at for tonight."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

The trip to his realm was breathtaking, it was a whole nother realm. The crimson realm. The moon was a glowy red, the trees were red leaved weeping willows and there were red lamps everywhere, and a row of toriis.

Everything had a beautiful illuminating red, as you left the multiple rows of torii gates stairs, you were greeted with bustling red and orange lights, chatter, and a tune played by a shamisen, dazai patted your head and turned your attention to him. "That's just the market, my dear. Let's go to my place." he smiled softly at you.

"okay.." you nodded and followed him.

The forest full of weeping red leafed willows and a beautiful clear river that reflected the moonlight was beautiful, he walked through the path and walk on a tall red bridge. The bridge was high, you looked down and saw a white fog abyss. Dazai smirked and tapped your shoulder, pointing at the sky. The sky was a beautiful glowy dark red, it was only red because the moon illuminated it. Up at the distance were floating foggy houses, it was all floating in the sky, you smiled softly and chuckled, you were definitely happy that you went with him.

He notices your smile and he chuckles, finding your little reactions cute.

The ongoing trip was beautiful, everything was so picturesque and this is probably the most happiest you have ever been, you and dazai eventually reached his home.. And his house was big.. It isn't even a house, it was a mansion. It was a tall tenshu. The length of the house was so tall that you couldn't even see the top, it was ongoing into the foggy abyss up in the sky.

"This is absolutely gorgeous." you say in awe while you stared.

"Aw.. Thank you!" dazai chuckled.

The trip into his palace was like a Rollercoaster, there were multiple foxes guiding the both of you into it, "If you ever get lost, just ask one of the foxes, this place is infinite so don't try to find out whats the highest floor."

Oh.. Err.. You nod and continue following him along the way, each step, walls kept changing, his place was a maze and a puzzle that only he could solve.

"So, er.. Why are you taking me in?" you asked as you followed him in little puppy steps.

"Well why not? You're a pretty little thing and i can't leave you alone in the woods can i?" he smirked and tilted his head to the side abit as you followed him into his room

The scent of something floral flooded your nose, he really did know how to keep a place looking sleek. Red and yellow lamps surrounded the hallways, you follow dazai and as he tours you around, you notice how lonely it must be in his big place.

He sits you down on a chabudai table which already had food laid out on it, brewed tea and chopsticks, as if dazai knew he'd be taking you home for tonight.

He sits right infront of you, a cocky smirk plastered on his face, "so how do you like this place?"

"The aroma and the art in this place is beautiful." you reply back with a chuckle, gently taking the chopsticks and looking at the food served at the table, as soon you took the chopsticks, he did as well, eating the same phase as you while talking.

"Not as beautiful as you though!" he mutters in a sing-song tone, like he was saying it sarcastically, when he fully knows, he meant it.

"Oh cut that out" you snarked back, before chuckling. As soon as the corners of your lips turned up, dazai felt pleased with himself, staring at your pretty face and thinking about how you'd look tainted in his affection and obsession.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

After their meal together, dazai leads you to the red and yellow lamp lit halls, with foxes lying around and playing everywhere, the atmosphere calm with a faint shamisen sound filled the halls with a low hum of an energy that reeked of awaiting and satisfaction.. Since dazai did create this realm in his own magick, surely must of hus thoughts or emotions have been engraved in the air right?

Dazai leads yoy down a long, shadowed corridor. His usual aloofness has melted away, and he seems to radiate a possessive intensity, his eyes watching your every movement as you are his most precious treasure and priority.

Finally, he stops in front of a large, ornate door, its wood dark and polished, the carvings on it glowing faintly as if they’re alive. He opens the door and gestures for you to step inside, what a gentleman i guess?

The room is extravagant, more extravagant than your room in your own home. Every corner of the room is adorned with trinkets and ornaments that flows a mysterious, ancient charm, treasures he has collected over countless centuries, just to impress you.

Dazai’s gaze never leaves her, his expression dark with yearning. “This is all yours now,” he says, voice low. "Just for you, my dear." he winked.

There’s a strange glint in his eyes that you couldn't put a finger to. Was it a glint of approval? Promiscuity?

He swiftly walks behind you, extending a hand to pat your head, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles, making you jump abit.

Days turn to weeks and weeks turn into months, and each and every day, Dazai's obsession deepens, a deep affection eating him with urges of wanting your touch and words, say his name and he's wrapped around your finger.

Every morning, he is there whenever you wake up, as if he was watching your every move.. Always greeting you with a possesive look, always feeding you delicacies from both the human world and his own Realm, dishes and delights reserved only for royalty. He takes his time to pour you tea, serving you as though you were an empress and he , your one and only devoted subject.

Though during the first few weeks of dazai acting like you were the empress of the realm, some spirits first looked at you with suspicion.. Since you are a human lady. But slowly and surely, the way dazai looked at you and how you somehow always reject his advances, the spirit folks got used to it, worshipping you slowly as dazais influence spread around the realm like wildfire. Giving you the royal attention and treatment you deserved.

By night, Dazai stands guard at your door or sits beside you, gently peppering your knuckles with kisses, his gaze lingering over you with an almost feverish intensity. He often brushes his fingers along yoru hand, and though his touch is gentle, there’s a power behind it.. a silent oath that promises to keep you safe, adored, and worshipped.

Unbeknownst to you, Dazai has already begun initiating his planned wrath upon the family that mistreated you..

In the mortal realm, your family’s wealth starts to burn into ash slowly, their alliances falling apart in ways that seem like mere misfortunes but are far too perfectly timed..

Of course, dazai, the bastard he is, never told you.. Since he was too busy giving you a good time so you'd never even think of leaving his realm that he made just for you, within each touch from you shoulder to your neck, blood is already dripping down from the neck of the people who hurt you,

And each night, as you drifts off to sleep in your room adorned with luxury, Dazai’s adoration swells to something beyond mortal love.

A/n: this fic is super rushed... I was originally gonna make it more bloody but i got tired. Giving you guys a taste of fluff.

© All works by @Verlaineszz. Do not copy, redistribute, or repost on other platforms.

[fernsplace]

FAMILY TREE! *ೃ༄

summary: he raised you better than this. he raised you to be good. you're made to think you've contaminated your family's reputation. all in the search for the truth. word ct: 1.9k content: angry father. verbal abuse. religious themes. negative views of religion. religious guilt. unclean, in the biblical sense. soft!sam. suggestive ending. emotional intimacy. notes: this is the fifth chapter of my series, PREACHER'S DAUGHTER!

─ ˙༺ ♱ ༻

< CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER SIX >

your father’s grip on the steering wheel is tight, his knuckles white and angry. he doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you. the gravel road rattles the car, and every bump feels like a bruise.

your mother sits in the passenger seat, lips pressed tightly together. her hands are folded near in her lap. is she praying or bracing herself for what’s to come? you wonder if prayer is necessary.

inside, the light are too bright. like a spotlight. you go straight to your room, figuring you’d be sent there anyway. better to get out of the rain now than wait for the storm.

you stand still for a moment in the center of your room, afraid to get comfortable. you’re unsure what to do with youself. for split second you consider getting down on your knees.

you hear the creak of floorboards and a knock follows. then your father’s voice, low and steady. "come out here."

you obey. not because you want to, but because it’s easier this way. you follow him to the kitchen, where he leans against the counter. arms crossed. you hold your breath.

“sit”, he says. not unkindly. that’s what scares you most.

your mother hovers near the hallway, arms wrapped around herself. her eyes follow you as you take a seat. the silence stretches too long. then your father speaks.

“do you know what it looks like?” he starts, “for the preacher’s daughter to sneak out of church? with a boy?”

you don't answer, and he leans forward. when the preacher talks, he demands his silence.

"do you know what it does to your name? to your mother’s? to mine?"

you feel it in your stomach. a sickening mix of guilt and resentment.

he exhales through his nose. you can tell he’s trying to bury his rage.

"i raised you better than this." his words are sharp.

your bottom lip quivers, but you don’t cry. not yet.

"we gave you everything. we built you a life. we kept you safe. from—from boys like that. and you repay us by... by walking out with a stranger like you were raised in a barn?"

you swallow hard.

"you don’t even know him like that.” your voice trembles, and your vision is blurring with tears.

"i don’t need to."

“we didn’t do anything.” your voice was just barely above a whisper.

your father sighed. “it’s not about what you did or didn’t do, it’s about the message it sends." he wiped his hand over his face.

you look to your mother. her eyes meet yours. they’re unreadable.

your father goes on. "you think I don’t see what’s happening? you hesitate. you’re silent during prayer. the way you look at the door like you’re waiting for something better to walk through."

you bite the inside of your lip. “i just wanna understand.” a single tear lips down your cheeks. you can’t face his eyes.

"what? what is it that you can’t understand?”

"everything. why we are the way we are. why church feels like punishment. why—why i can’t ever do anything right by you.” you cry.

he stares, then shakes his head. “you feel like that because you're believing lies to be truth. and do not blame me for your feelings.”

“how do you know anything is the truth? why can’t i dec—“

“you’re too young to decide that.” he slaps his hand to the counter.

“i’m twenty—“

“i don’t care if you’re four, twenty, i don’t care if you’re goddamn fifty. you live in my house, under my rules.” his voice loud.

a priest using the lord’s name in vein felt sinful.

you stand. “no, dad. i think i finally understand.” you raise your voice. it’s not strong, but it’s enough.

your mother shifts, but does nothing more.

"until you come to your senses, you’re grounded. no phone. no friends. no more distractions."

you feel the walls close in, and you shout. “i don’t have friends, i don’t have anyone in this town! i spend all my time at the fucking church wishing i felt what everybody else is feeling!”

"oh, don’t you raise your voice at me.” he straightens, side stepping around the counter. “that boy will never set foot near the church again."

you turn on your heels and walk back to your room before he can say anything else. you hear your mom approach him, mumbling.

you slam the door, letting the tears fall fast. your chest heaves and you can barely catch your breath. you slide down the door, fingers tangling rough in your hair.

─ ˙༺ ♱ ༻

that night, you lie awake for hours. your cheeks are tear stained and your eyes are bloodshot. the moonlight filters through your curtains and it illuminates the bible on your nightstand.

god might still be out there, but He sure as hell doesn’t live in this house.

with a sigh, you throw on a sweater. you stand still for a moment, listening for creaks in the hallway. once you were sure your parents went to bed, you opened the window.

you climb out like you used to do as a kid when you wanted to lie in the grass and watch the stars. the air is cool against your skin. the wind brushed softly though your hair.

you know where you’re going. past the fields and the silos. down the gravel road and toward the willow.

once you're there, you push through the leaves, and under the soft glow of the moonlight is sam.

─ ˙༺ ♱ ༻

he looks up when you approach. he wears tired eyes and an apologetic smile. he says nothing, just pats the grass beside him.

it’s cold and prickly on your legs. the twinkle of the moon and the occasional firefly are your only sources of light. yet the whites of his eyes still sparkle.

you find comfort in the silence. but you both have something to say.

he stares forward, arms resting on his knees. he doesn’t ask until he’s sure you’re ready. when your unwrap your arms from your body and bring them down to twist blades of grass between your fingers.

“how bad?”

“best case scenario.”

he looked at you, his head cocked to the side.

“wasn’t kicked out.” you shrugged. you’re coming off braver than you felt.

he nodded.

“what’d he say?”

you exhaled sharply, almost a laugh. “every word he could possibly use in place of calling his daughter a whore.” you felt an ache in your chest, and your eyes threatened to glass over.

his gaze is soft. he doesn’t try to offer his apologies. not yet anyway. instead, he lets you speak.

you lie back, looking through the leaves. it’s comforting—the grass framing your body. it cradles you. sam stays put.

“he thinks i’m turning away from god,” you start. crickets chirp among the tall grass. “but i’m not sure i ever believed he was really there.”

“no?” sam questioned, voice blending with the gentle hum of the trees. his eyes were still fixed on you. you felt them. not looking through you, but reading you. studying you. he wanted to understand you.

you shake your head, you shift your eyes to meet his above. they’re very pretty in the moonlight.

“sometimes, i thought i felt Him. but it never felt right. like i was always in trouble. like someone was watching my every move… like i’ll fuck up any second…become a sinner,”

“i prayed every night as a kid, that i’d be different in the morning. that i’d be good.”

sam let out a breath. he stayed quiet. his eyes never left your face. they traced every curve of your jaw and crease of your eyelid.

he lifted his hand, bringing it to your temple. he swept a strand of hair from your face, and his fingers brushed over your scalp. he continued. despite his stature, his touch was tender and bore no weight.

he hummed, an invitation to keep talking.

“i’d tell myself that i was good. but those eyes—“ you sniffled. “i’m starting think it was just…my dad. he’s so insistent in who i’m supposed to be. when i’m with him, i feel this guilt in my stomach. and—and since forever, i’ve attributed it to god’s distaste. but, i’m realizing that—“ you paused.

“it was just his. the parish's. maybe i never felt god at all. maybe he can’t save me.”

your voice tapered off, trembling. you lean into sam’s touch. “do you really believe?” you whisper, rolling your head to look at him.

you don’t wanna know the half of it, he wanted to say.

“i do.” you’re a bit shocked. “i’ve seen enough to know he’s there, just…not in the way most think. i don’t think he lives in churches, or people’s homes.” he knows what it's like to feel unclean.

you watch him curiously. he speaks with genuine belief. “where does he live?” you ask.

he shifts. he’s not going tell you that god is no better than a dead beat dad. “in people, i think.” he opts for, and he remains somewhat truthful. he believes that some people think of god as an almighty decision maker—someone who tells them the right way to live. and, he understands. he understands the need to have something greater to look to.

you soften. “i try to find meaning in everything. and if i write it down, or draw it, then maybe it'll tell me something.”

his hand pauses momentarily as he thinks. and he lowers it to run along the bottom of your jaw.

“maybe it already has.” he murmurs.

his eyes are darker tonight. they’re filled with intent and something else that you can’t quite describe. a cool breeze nips at your skin.

you're suddenly aware of the warmth that radiates from his fingers, and your heart flutters in your chest. it thumps against your rib cage.

“you’re different. a good different.” he added, “you’re hunting something. most settle for what they’re told."

your cheeks flush.

"you?”

sam doesn’t answer right away. he lays down on his side, one hand elevating his head, while the other stays cradles your head, thumb moving lightly over your skin. an unfamiliar warmth washes over you.

"i guess i stopped believing that there was anything good waiting for me. until now.”

your lips part, trying to form a sentence. the air between you is suddenly thick, and the breeze has halted.

"why me?” you dare to ask.

his voice is low, almost a whisper. "because we're not all that different.”

the moment lingers, and you turn on your side to face him. you’re so close, you can feel his warm breath hit the tip of your nose.

you take ahold of his wrist, but you don’t move it.

“if you touch me,” you begin, “my father will say it’s sin.”

“let him.”

your breath hitches and he intertwines his fingers with yours. his palm is warm and calloused. hardened presumably from years of honest work.

he guides you to your back, and raises your hand to the grass next your head. slowly, he moves himself to hover over you.

“for the record, i don’t think you need saving—“

he places one leg between yours. you’re cheeks are pink with anticipation now. and your heart thumps in your ears. your body feels fuzzy.

“—just someone who will see you for who you are.” he breathes.

he lowers his head towards yours. the tips of his hair curls at the ends and it covers his forehead. you wanted to reach out and touch it. so, you lift a hesitant hand to brush his hair back. he doesn’t resist, rather he dips his chin lower. your lips are almost brushing.

“will you let me?”

─ ˙༺ ♱ ༻

if you'd like to be added to my taglist let me know! don't be shy!

taglist: @ambiguous-avery . @iamaslytherin0 . @zenoxl

[moonlit-escape]

. ☠︎︎.˖⚝๋࣭⭑ֶָ֢♱ Gene Mystreet headcanons !!

my third and final favourite mystreet character. oh how stupid i am. my 6th and far from final favourite myst character. he's so silly i need to beat his ass

5'7.4 (171.2cm)

hispanic

bisexual (it runs in the family. their mom is bi too)

scorpio ♏️

the eyebags aren't just bc he's has a god awful sleep schedule, they're actually hereditary (dante covers his with cucumbers and a skincare routine)

only speaks in spanish when he's losing his shit (arguing, panicking, tripped and scraped his knee on the sidewalk)

god can that boy dance

honestly just really loves cats

he went through a rough patch in uni and it sort of gave him a major wake up call as to just how he was doing and what kind of person he was and wanted to be

he, zenix, and sasha went their separate ways during uni, but tried to keep mostly in touch until eventually coming back together as roomies

god he would have just. the Worst depression meals. bro eats macaroni cheese dust in a glass with milk like it's a fucking nesquik packet. takes apart oreos and eats all the cream off, then puts pieces of ham in between them like theyre goddamn lunchable crackers. makes mayonnaise and jello sandwiches. takis and sweet relish. sasha and zenix have to make sure they come home on time and cook something before he puts whatever fucking concoction he makes into his body.

but he's actually a pretty damn good cook (when he's Not in a depressive episode)

learned to read fairly quickly, so he would always read dante to sleep

HARD gifted kid burnout like my man crashed and burned at 16

but now he's just a silly little nerd

favourite ninja turtle is donatello (mainly bc his fav color is purple)

he likes anime a lot, honestly. especially from 1990 to 2000s

plays mihoyo games. his mains are, respectively; cyno (genshin), jing yuan (hsr), and anton (zenless). This is a meta joke.

piercings,,, pirericngs,,,,, yesssss ,.

typa guy to use kaomoji and cat emoticons and send you cat videos off of youtube

the only social media he has is tumblr and reddit his punkass doesnt fw any other

he'd probably get a tattoo. maybe for his sweet girl, Apple, the poor thing

wants another cat, but he wants to give sasha and zenix no other choice but to let him take one in, so he's up Praying a stray will find him and follow him home

*opens his wallet and an entire roll of dante's baby pictures fall out* "UHM- UH- FWUH- I WAS HOLDING THESE FOR MY MOM-" dante, travis, and aph tear up on the spot

carries an epipen on his person at all times in case of emergencies. it was something he did growing up with dante, just in case the kid had something with peanuts, and it just kinda followed him into adulthood

was never that mean to travis, since he was dante's best friend, but he was never careful around him either, so

him and garroth actually end up being great friends who just spend most of their conversations gushing about mutual interests (their baby brothers, cats, video games) or sassing each other off

no wait bc why would his taste in men absolutely be himbos. (or at least just very sweet, kind-hearted people)

he calls people by specific little terms of endearment, depending on the type of response. that doesnt make sense. let me elaborate.

uses "babe" or "honey" when someone is in distress or upset ("oh, honey,,")

uses "bucko" or "buddy" when someone mouths off at him ("oookay there, buddy." "alright then, bucko.")

you get it now

the type of friend that is Always ready to back you up on your bullshit. absolutely no hesitation

he really didn't have a crush on aph, he was just a Grade A Asshole who thought it was fun to fuck with people

because he was viciously jealous of people who were capable of being happy and having good lives

not that he had a particularly awful, hard life. sure, his family had their struggles, but they were getting by. yes, he has felt like there was something deeply wrong with him that has been present within himself since even before he was born that made most people avoid him like he was on a secret list. but it was fine

he just knew that he had a sick feeling in him, and the only way he'd feel anything else was if he was a mean little asshole

some nights, it did scare him. it frightened him how bitter his tongue always tasted

and all of the time, constantly, buried beneath the feelings of hate, he felt guilt. he felt so, so much guilt. but, his only coping mechanism for when he's feeling bad is to do more bad things, and pretend he's always in the right

and, eventually, he broke. he broke down hard. now, since he's seen that his first plan to get rid of this feeling of skin-deep sin has failed, he's decided to try the other way. to atone

[peachiemilkytea]

Lockdown

Pt 1 , Pt 2

Summary: After the Department of Temporal Phenomena had released tapes instructing everybody to go into isolation in 1992. You sit alone at home sitting in loneliness and misery. But the unknown threat roams suspiciously close to you.

Paring: Alt!Gabriel x you

Warnings: paranoia, depression, isolation, religious themes, break-in, descriptions of injuries, use of Y/N, etc

WC: 3K

─── ˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚───

The tv plays with bright colors that can burn anybody's eyes. Figures of people in swimsuits with piña colada's and margaritas in their hands walked around. Sounds of annoying voices yelling at something pointless was the only thing filling up the silence in the house. I sit on my sofa with the remote in my hand, watching whatever came on the tv. This time it was some reality tv from other states.

Ever since the outbreak, Mandela county has gone on lockdown. The government released these tapes of alternates. Phenomenal creatures that come into peoples homes and use their mind against them. My dad always said it was the devils work. There's been cases about it in the news of people going missing and alternate reports. It's hard to sleep without a night light on. I can only imagine the police department being flooded with calls. There isn't much to do about the alternates since nobody knows how to get rid of them. The most recent tape the government handed out was the M.A.D tape. If you're M.A.D then you're too late.

It been lonely being in isolation, I had to pick up my high school dipolma through the parking lot's roundabout. I still have the yearbooks, prom pictures, folders of graded worksheets, and Polaroid pictures of what friends I had. It wasn't easy making friends in high school when your the priest's daughter. With everyone's mothers going to the church your dad owns to go on their knees and pray for God. Now I'm by myself. Sitting at home, watching girls fight over the guy in a tropical paradise.

Everyday is the same. Nothing ever changes. I feel like I'm sitting here waiting for my turn to die next. That scares me so much. Things never change on the outside, but I have changed internally. I am so lonely. I haven't talked to another person in months. Let alone been outside. Grocery shopping trips don't count. Sometimes I think I'm mute with how quiet I am. There's nobody there to talk to. I don't have my friends anymore. Everyday I wake up and stay in bed for seven hours. My teeth are becoming yellow cause I can't find the strength to take care of myself anymore. Every night, I stay up for hours tossing and turning. Every little thing makes me upset. If I drop a spoon and it gets dirty I break down in tears. I don't feel like myself anymore.

On the clock, It was ten thirty. Maybe I should eat. I did skip lunch. I didn't have the motivation to get up and make something. The fridge was too far away. It takes too much energy to make any food. Though I'll starve. I guess I'll have to get up. That's going to take awhile to do, it's so hard to move my body when I have no motivation to get up. come on come on come on.

I slowly get up from the couch, my legs feel like they can't hold my body up. Walking to the kitchen, I don't know what to make. A Tv dinner will do. I grabbed a Tv dinner with lasagna. I pull down the foil halfway, then put it inside the microwave. I get this uncomfortable feeling, but I don't know where it's coming from. I look around to find nothing. It feels like something is staring at me. I shrug it off and put the tv dinner inside the microwave. Hearing beeping coming from it. I'm getting kinda nervous now. It feels like something is off. I stared at the microwave hoping it would heat up faster. Waiting for it makes time feel slower.

There's tapping outside the window. It felt like it was all around me. I looked around, checking the windows. Nothing was there. I didn't see anything tapping. It could be a tree branch. Living next to the woods makes it hard to see things at night. Since there's no street lights it's pitch black. I go back to the microwave.. but the tapping got louder. It was coming from in front of me. The microwave beeped. I quickly pulled out my food and grabbed a fork out of the drawer. Fast walking out of the kitchen and back to the living room.

The relief soon flooding me, what was all that about? It would be stupid if I tried to investagate it. I don't want to get killed. I slowly ate my food listening to the pitchy voices coming from the screen. The guy didn't even look cute... he kind of looks like a monkey. Wiping the red sauce away from the corner of my mouth with my thumb. I didn't really have much of an appetite. Watching the waterfall come down into a lake as the girls danced around in their bikini's hoping to catch the attention of the guy. One of them went to go talk to him in private which made the others mad. One of them went crazy over it. Seeing all this water makes me need to pee.

I encourage myself to get up again, slowly lifting my limbs off of the couch. Walking down the dim lit hall, I feel better if all the lights are on but it's too much effort to go find the light switch. I open the door to the bathroom.

----

The light floods the hallway when I open the door. Closing it with a click. As I'm walking away, a window near the bathroom is open. That's werid.. I could've sworn I've closed all of them. I pull the window down, clicking the lock at the top. what if something happened? Something could have come through that window. Am I in danger? Maybe I'm being too paranoid, everything is okay. It's my house.

I walked back to my living room, plopping down on my couch. This is getting boring, I grabbed the remote and changed the channel. hmm, horror? The last thing I need is to have my paranoia questioning everything. No. Action? Every super hero movie is all the same. No. Bible prayer session? ummm No. I already did that today. Oh! Sunday night's comedy! I could use a good laugh right now.

The Tv showed a guy with a microphone making jokes to an audience. I even pitched in a few laughs. He was creative. A few different comedians came out after every commercial break. I liked the lady who complained about her husband.  Her sarcasm was funny.

Huh? That's weird. The TV is flickering with a bunch of static coming from it. Maybe it's the wifi router? I got up to check behind the tv. Restarting it a couple of times, the static wasn't going away. If it's not the connection it must be the power. I need to check the circuit breaker. I grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawers, going to the basment door in the hallway. The basement is always scary. It is silent and dark down there.

I take a deep breath feeling fresh air come through me. I got this, it's just a quick trip. I open the door to be greated with pitch black. I don't want to do this... The flashlight clicks as it turns on. Every step I go down creaks. I'm afraid it might break from under me. Where is the circuit breaker? Oh, it's in front of me. I look at the switches and buttons. Maybe it will reset itself if I turn it off and back on again. I click the switch turning it off, then sliding it to the other side to turn it back on again. I hope that worked. Now to go back upstairs.

The basement door slammed close. Heavy muffled footsteps echoed through the basement. There's somebody in my house. I stiffened. What do I do? My anxiety pumped through my veins,  adrenaline went through my bones. Sweat made my hair stick to my forehead. I need to call the police and hide. I sneaked back upstairs. I don't know where the threat is.

I ran towards the hall closet, nimble enough to make little to no noise. I don't feel safe anymore. If I get up to my room and lock myself in there I should be safe, right? There's a phone by my bedside. The footsteps get louder, they come closer. I put a hand over my mouth to control my breathing. Please leave me alone.

A alternate, pitch black with a deformed human body walks slowly up to the closet door. It looks around. Don't open the door. Please don't open the door. It stays there for a minute, till it slowly walks away and into the kitchen. I quitely keep my steps light, with a flashlight sturdy in my hands. If I need to attack I will, but I'm afraid of getting close to it. I reach the top of the stairs. I'm almost there, my door is at the end of the hallway.

ĥ̷̛̻̹̓̍̔̍å̷̢̻̫͕̬̟̭̽̔͐̿̔́̈͘͜͜͠s̷̙̪̉͌̍̒̓̆̌̈j̸̱͇͕̫̣̄͐̍͒̏c̷̢͖̗̘̳̜̙̀̾̈́̋͑͊̉̾̈́̚ͅm̶̢͈͔̑͑́͊̅k̶̨̦̯̩̖͓̅̏̓̔́̌̓͠f̵̡̟̭͚̮̮̜̺̂͝ͅͅo̴͙̎̑͑ë̴̫́̋̔̈̌̆͊̚p̸̤͚̻͛ẁ̸̳̟̝̝̰͔̩w̶̰̣͓̌̅e̷͈̩̝̺͈̎̏̊͂̉̎͆͆͜

Oh no. Turning my head over my shoulder. The thing was staring right at me. Without thinking, I ran. The air in my lungs became tight and light. The creature ran after me with inhuman speeds. It's stomps were enough to shake the whole house. My heart pumps out of my chest. My legs burn. I go into my room and slam the door in it's face. Locking the door immediately. It bangs and screams at the door. oh my god oh my god what did the government broadcast say? T.H.I.N.K.? I can't remember the principals!

I grab the ends of my dresser and push it in front of the door, grabbing whatever I could find and put it in front of my door. I yanked the phone off of the reciever and dialed 911.

"Hello? emergency services, how may we help you?"

"There's somebody in my house, it doesn't look human. Please help me. My name is (Y/n) (L/n), I live on Osprey street."

"I'm sorry, we do not get invovled with alternate cases. Please be safe and make it out alive." The emergency responder hung up the phone. What am I supposed to do now?!  I put the phone back down on the receiver. Then it started speaking to me through the door. It speaks of all my trauma, all my failures and embarassing moments that I didn't want to remember. I covered my ears and hid in my closet. It's watching me through the door.

"Come to Your refuge with joy for You shelter me against the attack of the devil. Protect me, O Lord, from the craftiness of the enemy, and save me from his evil plots. Cover me with Your presence when I feel weak so that he will flee from my presence. Amen." I feel myself whispered under my breath, clasping my hands togethers. Shutting my eyes. I let out my intentions into each and every word.

"Protect me, O'Lord. Protect me, O' Lord. Protect me, O'Lord. Protect me O'Lord!"

----

The sun shined through the built in blinds on my closet door. How long has it been? The early morning? Ugh... That alternate still might be at my door. I haven't shut my eyes all night. There's muffled whispers of deceiption. I need to get out of here.

I open the door, my rooms scattered with mess. It looks like a natural disater happened in here. There are murmurs of manipulation getting louder. I'll be okay if I jump out the window. Then I need to run like hell. It's quick so I need to be quiet. I tip toe to my window sill. I gently open it and hang my legs out of it. Taking a deep breath, I jump.

The bushes crushed my fall, but my feet weren't placed right. I think I sprained my ankle. It hurts so much. It hurts with every movement. I need to get out of here. I need to go to the police. That's the only safe place I think off. I get up slowly. Sprinting down the side walk, my ankle hurts with every step. My hair flows behind me, my lungs gasp for air. There's tension in every bone in my body. I run, I run, I run. No matter how tired I get. I can't stop running. Please, please. I need to get there. I don't want to die.

There's people looking at me weridly from their cars, people walking down the sidewalks look at me fearful. I'm almost there. In the distance, I see the sign, Mandela County police deparment. I feel my body giving up on me. Air has become suffocating. I can't stop now I've come too far. I can't go back to my house. Everything is watching me. I run, I run, I run. Police officers eye me down in front of the building. I stop in front of the place. My legs give out from under me, it burns when I breath. My ribs cramp up and I feel it coming back up through my throat. I swallow the vomit back down.

A few officers come to my side, pressing their palms on my shoulders. Asking me questions I can't make out. The world has become blurry. The two police officers help me up and inside the building. I don't know where their taking me. It's too hard to see. I'm sitting on something soft. I blink a couple of times to focus my vision. Getting used to the light in the room.

"Hello? Miss? Can you hear me?"

"Ruth, she has a sprained ankle."

The officer looked at my ankle, moving it from side to side. It hurt so much. I wasn't even focused on the pain until now. He gently holds it. I wince with every touch. I can tell he's looking up at me worriedly.

"Wha.. what?" They loooked at me surprised but relieved. The other officer, Ruth I think. Left to go behind the desk, pulling out a first aid kit. She threw it to the other officer. He caught it and started working on my leg.

"Are you okay?" Ruth asks coming back with a notepad  and pencil. Her eyes showed so much. It was comforting. The gentleness of everything felt safe. Like I was no longer being watched.

"Barely.." I mumbled, my throat hoarse from running for my life back there. My lips felt so chapped, licking them might make them worse but it's a natural instinct.

"What happened?" The other officer tending to my ankle asked.

"I called earlier, something broke into my house. I barricaded myself in my room and hid in my closet till morning. I thought it would go away but it didn't. So I jumped out of my window and ran all the way here." I explained. They turned pale and tensed up.  Ruth reached for her gun.

"Ruth no." The other officer reached up and grabbed her arm.

"Thatcher, she could be one. She needs to be stablized." Ruth said sternly pointing her gun at me. I tensed up and gasped. Sweat went down the side of my face.

"She's not. Her injuries are heavy, if she was an alternate she would be able to heal them. She came here looking like hell." Thatcher tried to convince her. Oh, so that is his name.

"She could be faking all of that if she was an alternate, for all we know she's already dead and an alternate could be using her body." Ruth said, her trigger getting steady. Thatcher put his hand up saying "wait." He holds his hand up to me slowly, I move back afraid at what he's going to do next. His hand gets closer to me, I shut eyes looking away. My heart beats out of my chest. His fingers touch my pulse.

"she has a heartbeat, alternates don't have heartbeats." Thatcher confirms. I open one eye looking around. Ruth lowers her gun. I open both my eyes, blinking a couple of times to adjust to the room again.

"So everything you said is true?" Ruth asks gently. I nod slowly. I'm scared to say anything.

"Start from the beginning." Ruth ordered, pulling out her notepad and pencil again. Writting what I said before. Oh dear God protect me.

"I was at home making food, but something was tapping on my window. It was coming from in front of me. I thought it was a tree branch and I was freaking myself out. I spent some time eating and hanging around. Till I had to go to the bathroom. When I came out of there, the window was wide open. It was closed before I went to the bathroom. Then the tv was getting all staticky, it wasn't from the wifi router so I checked the circuit breaker in the basement. But when I reset the breaker, somebody slammed the basement door shut. I heard footsteps walking around my house. The nearest and safest phone was in my room, I sneaked back upstairs but it chased after me. I barricaded myself in my room and called the police but nobody came." I explained more of the story, stuttering and shaking. Flashbacks appeared in my mind, every fearful moment.

"And that's when you waited for it to leave but when it wouldn't you jumped out of your window and ran all the way here." Thatcher completed the story. I nodded profusely.

"You ran all the way here with a sprained ankle?" Ruth asked, I nodded again confirming that.

"I couldn't feel the pain cause of my adrenaline." I added on. Though it's splinted and wrapped up, it stll hurts like hell.

"You should stay here for awhile, to make sure the alternate in your house has left." Thatcher said getting up of the ground helping my leg up onto the couch. It felt better now that it was laying at an angle. He opened the mini fridge in the office and pulled out an ice pack, he gently put it on my ankle. I winced a bit at the sudden change in tempature.

"In the evening, officer Thatcher and I will escourt you to your house, We'll do a clean out search. You'll get home safely." Ruth said reassuringly, putting her hand on her hip with a smile.

"Thank you so much." I grinned at her, I can finally relax. I assume this is a shared office since there's two desks. They returned to their spots. I laid my head on the couch looking up the ceiling. It's okay now, you're safe. I tell myself,  I can get some sleep in. It's all going to be okay. My eyes flutter shut.

----

... mm ...hmmmggg... mmmggg...

"Hey, (Y/n) it's time to wake up." The nudging on my shoulder got more apparent. I slowly open my eyes, feeling groggily. I rub the sleep from my eyes. Oh, It's officer Thatcher. I sit up slowly.

"How long was I out for?" I asked. I look back down at my ankle. It looks kind of better. Less swollen, still hurts though.

"For about seven hours, you needed it though. Ruth and I are going to take you back home and check your house." Thatcher informed. I leaned over and took the icepack off. He held out his hand and I took it. Slowly getting up. I winced, the weight on my ankle was too much. I held my leg up like a hurt dog would hold up it's paw.

"Ready to go?" Ruth asked in the doorway holding her stuff. I nodded smiling softly. I don't want to go back home, but I can't stay at the police station forever. I dread going back. I don't think I feel safe there anymore. I limp to the car with Ruth helping me, she holds me up by my waist. I must be living every kid's dream, I get in the police car.

The sun goes down making all kinds of pinks, oranges, and yellows. It was hard to see from the barred up backseat window, but still enjoyable. The radio  played softly, some kind of 90's punk rock. It must be the radio station that Thatcher likes. The poles of streetlights pass by quickly, homes that are locked up are filled with light, There's few cars on the road of people coming home from work. It feels so.. human. That's reassuring to me. It reminds me in a way that I survived. I see my house in the distance.

"Is this it?" Ruth asks, looking at me in the review mirror. I nodded staring back at her. I don't want to go back. There's nothing awaiting me there but an alternate. She parked nearby my  driveway.

"Stay here, if we don't come back then drive back to the police station." Thatcher instructed. I nodded again looking up at him doe eyed. I gave him my house keys. They both got out of the car, I watched as they enter the house.

I waited for a few good minutes in the car. My anxiety rised higher and higher with every second they were in there. My leg bounced profuesly as bit my nails. I'm slowly losing control over myself. Soon enough I see Ruth coming out with Thatcher, she knocks on my door. I sloppily get out with a little help from her. Thatcher gave me back my house keys.

"The cost is clear, there's no alternate. But we can see you put up a good fight." Thatcher said looked at me grinning.

"You did one hell of a job with that bedroom door." Ruth snickered and helped me into my front door. The silence speaks volumes, I don't want to be here anymore.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay." Ruth says patting my shoulder gently. She helps me into the couch.

"We fixed up the bedroom a little to cut you some slack. If you ever need anything call us, and use the code word Delta. It's to know that you're the real you." Thatcher said smiling comfortingly. I feel a little better knowing I have a plan for next time. But I dread those words, next time. Like it won't end after this.

"Thank you so much for everything." I said trying to sound okay. My shoulders don't let down their guard.

They both bid me goodbye, I sit in a quiet house full of loneliness. I don't want to be here. It feels different without people here. I'm not going to bed tonight.

[heavenlyraindrops]

Note: I use “character” as an insert for reader, oc, or, yk, characters.

I have seen absolutely BARELY any lucifer x character fics that explore the full potential that him being the FUCKING DEVIL has. The whole “corruption” sort of concept.

Like, oh yeah, you were such a devout Christian in life, what would your peers have to say about you getting it on with the devil? You were one of the most faithful, virtuous angels in Heaven, and now look at where you are. On your knees- but not praying, not for God…

Like I’m sorry but that shit is way too fucking hot for there to be max one fic written about it. And the fics I’ve seen with Angel! Characters don’t explore that sort of “shameful” aspect enough. “What would mother say if I brought the devil home for dinner” sort of shit.

So. I decided to take matters into my own hands.. ;)

[lysarion]

━━━━━━ goodbyes and see you later ⟢

♱    |    you've known phainon for a long time—intimately to the point you anchor his inability of saying "goodbye" by turning them into "see you later."

𖤝 including  ⠀! ⠀phainon          ◟          𖤝 warnings ⠀! ⠀angst, spoilers for 3.2 and 3.3 trailblaze mission, its just sad bye, no beta we die like most hi3 characters

❝      tags     ⚜     .  if you'd like to be tagged please send me an ask off-anon!!!

phainon was not meant for goodbyes. they’re always cut-throat, too unpredictable, too quick, and bruised far worse than any mortal wound. it went against everything he had grown up with—soft sunny skies, picnic in the afternoons, and a heart meant for an eternity where goodbyes were merely guaranteed farewells. 

maybe that’s why phainon found you so enthralling—you made goodbyes beautiful. you, with that ever radiant smile on your face as you take the other person’s hand in yours as you wish them a safe journey. you made goodbyes a little more bearable with your hope by letting unnamed feelings linger just for a moment longer.

“see you later!” you always said, waving frantically at the disappearing figure before sprinting to your room that same day. with your knees scraping the dusty wooden floors, phainon would watch in worry as you clasp your hands tightly, elbows propped against the windowsill, while your lips moved in a hurried prayer. he once tried to approach you during those times—far too curious on what you were so desperately praying for, but cyrene would stop him by planting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

she’d hush him, and phainon surmised, cyrene must find you interesting, too. 

he’s seen you two interact on multiple occasions, always with flower crowns donned on your heads as cyrene had her favorite decks of cards splayed across the picnic blanket. you’d ask her about each and everyone of their meanings in earnest, and cryene would giggle and patiently teach you about them. sometimes, you’d catch phainon looking from afar and you’d smile.

“phainon, come join us!” you’d invite him with a shout. phainon in turn would smile—throwing his practice sword away haphazardly and jogs to where you and cyrene sat. you’d move just a pinch and pat the spot next to you before your focus landed back on cyrene’s words. and in phainon’s mind, as he sits next to you—so fixated on decoding the fate of the world with cards—he finds himself smiling at the beauty you often denied when offered compliments.

but there was something mysterious about you. maybe it was the way you greet goodbye with open arms as if you’ve done it multiple times, or maybe it's because you never really show how much it really hurts. you’d wait for every star to die out and for the moon to fall before you finally shed tears. but it still doesn’t stop you—from making “goodbyes” feel like they were simple “see you laters” as if you’re welcoming the sun at dawn and not watching it set forever.

phainon overhears a conversation you once had with cyrene on a full moon.

“do you think the stars get tired of shining so brightly, cyrene?” you sat on top of a roof while cyrene’s head laid in your lap. from a distance, the last lights of the day finally went out, leaving you alone with cyrene in the evening. your eyes remained strained on the blinking bubbles of heat that slowly started to show as the breeze kissed your cheeks. 

“you’ve always been so fascinated with the stars, [name],” cyrene muses with a smile. “but to answer your question: i hope they don’t! the nights would feel too lonely without them.”

you smile back, fingers threading into her soft pink hair as she cuddles closer for warmth. “i hope so, too.”

phainon wanted to chime in as well—contribute something to your always enigmatic conversations with cyrene. but alas, like when met with sudden goodbyes, he can’t find the right words to actually say. maybe that’s why you and cyrene are so special: you don’t let the pain sink in until the very last moment. but he wasn’t like that—he wasn’t meant to be like that. because unfortunately for phainon, he was born to feel the pain first before the moment fully sinks.

maybe that’s why you had to pull him out the black flames that ravaged your home. even as tears stained your cheeks, you will yourself to pull him out of the pain and suffering at the cost of your own—because you were born to be like that. maybe that’s why when a misty blade tried to cut you down and barely dodge, shimmering gold spilled from your veins. at that moment, phainon got the confirmation that you are special. 

the next events that followed were but a hazy dream. when he awoke in an unfamiliar room, the sound of water reaching his ears, he deluded himself into thinking that it was all a bad dream. cyrene was still alive and simply waiting for him to go down the creaky stairs of their shared home, cooking up their breakfast—and she wasn’t left in that desolate place filled with smoke because he knew how much she hated the dark. and you, you will knock on their door just as phainon finished setting up the plates and cups, greet them good morning with that same dazzling smile—you would not throw your arms around his shoulders as sobs stole away the last remainder of your hopes and home.

“this is just ‘see you later’, right phainon?” you asked in between sobs. you pulled away first, a hand firmly gripped his shoulder while the other furiously rubbed away the tears from your face. 

phainon remained still, unable to stomach what just happened—he refused to. because how? how did things happen so fast? in just a blink of an eye, everything he knows—everything he knew and loved is gone.

he bit his lip until the taste of iron dropped on his tongue. a shaky hand gripped at your forearm as his head dropped to your shoulder. his own shook and he pleaded, “tell me this is just a dream, [name]. please, let’s wake up from this terrible, terrible dream.”

phainon wanted you to say yes. you needed to say yes. because phainon was not meant for these quick and unpredictable goodbyes—you knew that better than anyone else. if this truly were reality, if cyrene was really left all alone in that crumbling house with burning floors, how could he ever live with the fact he got to live? 

“i was supposed to protect you,” phainon’s voice came out hoarse, dull and dejected, as sobs rocked his entire body. he was crumbling from the inside and out—golden blood seeping through the beds of the fingers he continued to bite in distress. “it wasn’t supposed to end—it was never supposed to end! cyrene would cook us breakfast and tell us stories; you’d accompany me to training and help me patch up my wounds; we were supposed to get married at home and cyrene would officiate it herself.”

he felt you take a shaky inhale. the arms that circled him hugged him just a tad bit tighter as he rambled on. and you don’t interrupt him—because you knew, this is how phainon said goodbye.

“what happened to see you later?”

you don’t reply. you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything because phainon was right. your usual “see you later” had turned into a cut-throat “goodbye” as you ran away from death’s embrace. a part of you felt guilty—even when golden blood pumped in your veins, were you so exempt from all this misery because you were one star that got named while the rest remained forgotten to time? and yet, you can’t help but grasp at that fraying silver lining: cyrene had warned you and you did all you could. fate just happened to make sure you and phainon were the only ones to come out alive.

maybe that’s why you slowly began to drift. not intentionally, never intentionally because you only have each other now. but even with divinity gifted at both your doorsteps, you are still human—and humans are susceptible to change. 

phainon hardened around the edges. he still reminds you of that boyish kid back at home who loved playing hero in your stories with cyrene; he still devoured food with such eagerness that he’d often end up choking like he did back home; he’s still determined and dutiful; he’s still kind because he was born to be like this. he hides all his pain behind a smile like how a blade is encased in its scabbard. 

and you on the other hand, you were a little quieter. you still smile when greeting even strangers; you fed the strays in secret even when aglaea had told you not to do so; you still remained faithful especially towards lady tribbie’s teachings; and you still loved the stars with a burning passion. because under the sky that no longer turned to a vast and rich blue, it's the only time you get to see phainon.

“do you think the stars miss watching over us?” you see phainon pause in his steps. his figure slightly shadowed by the billowing curtains of your quarters. phainon is rigid in his stance as a piece of parchment is crumpled under his vice grip. you force yourself to tear your eyes away—the death of aglaea has taken you all by surprise and you didn’t want to believe it at first. but that was the thing with goodbye—no matter how much you avoid it, it will always catch up and over take you.

phainon chuckles, hollow and a bit bitter as his footsteps lead to your side by the balcony, “i sure hope they do. i’m missing the times where you, cyrene, and i would stargaze until dawn.”

that comment pulled a smile from your lips as you lean your body to the side. on instinct, phainon’s arm wrapped around you in a small hug as you avidly avoid aglaea’s final farewell. “phainon, do you think they’re watching us?”

“they” meant cyrene, lady trianne, professor anaxa, and now, lady agalea. 

he doesn’t reply in an instant. the hand resting on your forearm gripped the flesh of your fraying existence as if he were cradling sand. phainon’s gaze hardened, a frown set on his lips, “i know they are, [name].”

you relish this moment like a dying man. because in truth, you are. only one coreflame remains and your prophecy looms over you like a delayed “goodbye”. 

“phainon,” you call out with uncertainty. “when my prophecy comes to be realized, will you come find me?”

‘you will lay in a bed of stars as you take your final breath. unable to distinguish between goodbye and farewell; unable to be named by your loved ones.’

“don’t say that,” comes his pained reply. phainon pulls you closer to his chest, your ear resting where his uneasy heart continues to beat, “i won’t let you die. i will not fail again.”

“i know you won’t,” you entertain him. “but in the slim chance it does happen, will you come find me?”

phainon was always like this when it came to your prophecy. always in denial because he wasn’t meant for goodbye. that’s why you’re here—to anchor, to remind him that goodbyes don’t have to last an eternity. 

the sea of stars is vast. everywhere you look and step, a blinking light will greet you. all unnamed and forgotten in the name of history, for the losers do not get the pleasure of being remembered. maybe, no, it’s for that reason that you try to make “goodbyes” simple “see you laters”. to be lost in a boundless ocean where even thanatos can’t follow nor can phagousa chart, it’s a heavy kind of pain to be forgotten. 

“i will,” phainon replies with conviction. for a moment you feel his lips press into the crown of your head as he lets the eternal afternoon breeze carry his promise, “i will always remember you. and when thanatos comes to claim you, i will find a way for us to meet again. i swear on it.”

at that you smile, reassured that at least one person will remember. “i know you will, phainon.” 

© 𝓵ysarion 2025 — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate works without the knowledge or consent of the creator in other platforms or websites.

[evergreen-endo]

alright one more thought before i go to bed

i’ve said this before i think but takiishi has no concept of a quick peck he’s going in all or nothing at any given time. and like it barely even affects him. he walks up to you, doesn’t say hi, leans down with his mouth already open and slides his tongue across your lower lip in a way that doesn’t allow you to refuse him. definition of swapping spit. gives you the most incredible 30 seconds of making out you could ever receive, pulls away with a string of spit that still connects you both and then walks over to the fridge and grabs a soda and leaves the room. no hi no bye just the simplest yet most passionate display of affection that leaves you weak in the knees and he’s moving on with his day not thinking anything of it.