#forbidden firefly

[thatpunkmaximoff]

Story: 3/5 Smut: 2.5/5

For a moment, I thought this was going to be a bit too taboo for my tastes (godfather/goddaughter). Fortunately, it wasn't, and I was able to get into it.

I've read MC fanfiction, so I was a bit surprised this took me a little while longer to get into. For the first legit MC book that I own, however, it was pleasant. I will definitely look for more MC books now because I did enjoy this one.

Now enjoy my ramblings as I read..

* So you just gonna start the book like that? What happened to Ahryn?! 🥺

* Man, fuck Mace! What a dick doing that to a kid.

* “He needs to fucking die.” — Ayyyyy. I agree. Let’s do it.

* Thank god Killian got to be the one to take out Mace. Bastard deserved it. Now I’m just scared for anyone else to find out 😬

* Only fifteen and the crush has started. But honestly, I don’t blame her 😂 Killian sounds hot!

* He really showed up to her school and TOLD her he was taking her to school tomorrow. Get it together, Killian.

* Oh no. No, no, no. Don’t go to the lake 😂 🙈

* I knew the lake was a bad idea. And stfu, Julie!

* And that’s what happens when you try to flirt with the bikers 😬 Poor Ahryn. She’s traumatized.

* Oh shit. They lit up their bikes 😂

* Fuckkkk. They went after the wives and Ahryn.

* ONE MONTH LATER?! Don’t do this to me 😩

* They gave her back 🥺 but what the hell did they do to her? And what secrets do they know?

* Uh oh. Feelings are getting weird for these two ��

* Not the daddy kink porn 😂

* Oh shit. She put on the lingerie to dance in her office and Killian got an eye full 👀 😏

* Lol Killian is so fucked 😂

* So Ahryn kept the club’s secrets, but the envelope left next to her said otherwise? 🤔 What is going on..

* Shiii- Killian woke up on the wrong side of the bed lol. Someone’s got blue balls.

* “You may be my goddaughter, but if you slap me like that again, I will have your ass covered with my handprints.” — Goddamn, Killian 😏

* So she didn’t spill club secrets! They were bluffing. Thank god. She’s a badass for sure.

* Killian voted no! Wtf!? You better make him beg for forgiveness.

* Ugh. Out of all the sweetbutts, why Katherine?

* Ugh. That flashback to Killian’s childhood with his mom hurt my heart. Poor kid.

* Damn. Ahryn’s trauma really came for her right before her first job as a prospect 😬

* And goddamn.. Bane acted like that only because he thought Killian was about to kiss his daughter? Can you imagine if he was kissing her 👀 It’s gonna be a shit show.

* Oh shit. They kissed 😨

* Fuckkk. Who left the note in her pocket? She says they were in a club where a lot of ppl bumped into her, but what if it’s someone closer..? 🤔

* Holy shit! She rode his face as if her life depended on it 😂

* Goddamn.. he railed her 👏🏻👏🏻 My moral compass is officially out the window lmao.

* Hatchet is annoying as fuck.

* Ohhhh. Who’s following Ahryn?

* Damn. They tried to take her out? All hell is about to break loose.

* It all started when?!?!?! You can’t end a chapter like that!!

* God. I feel so bad that they’re fucking behind her dad’s back lol.

* Oh fuck. He just told everyone in Church that Ahryn is his 😨 I knew that wasn’t going to go well. And again, fuck off, Hatchet.

* Oh my god. What is this fucking secret?!

* Oh fuck. She was swapped at birth?!

* Get your shit together, Bane 🤦🏻‍♀️

* Griller.. what the fuck, dude.

* Damn, Ahryn. You really just shot your dad’s bio kid, huh? 😂

* Woo. It’s a property patch. For a moment I thought her birth control failed.

* First motorcycle romance and I definitely loved it. I need more romances like this haha.

[ruciel]

thinking of a yandere! firefly with an IPC! darling. you knew sam first, tasked with trying to catch and detain the mecha by your superiors when it had neared the pier point for aeon’s knows what kind of mission destiny’s slave sent it on. you’re good at what you do, you’re good at your job. not everyone just gets into the IPC and becomes the head of security, albeit, with very hard-work. but you were just no match for the molten knight, it was in a league of its own. the flames that engulfed you and your squadron decimated any and all things in its path. countless stars had burst into supernova, the nearby IPC structures and architecture were crushed to dust, and the smell of rot, flesh, and ash had permanently weaved its way into the atmosphere. everything had perished. all but you. firefly was never known to be cruel. when sam had approached you, finding your sickly and scarred body, it soon stood vulnerable, taking the appearance of a young woman instead. the heat of the metal may have been too much for you, in your sorry state. firefly feared she would melt you by even getting too close, and she revelled in the feeling of the tender touch of another living person, at least before your comrades could come to save you. you never did get the chance to see her, to see firefly, you will only ever know her as sam. and she’s okay with that. firefly understands that she can’t be with you— at least not now. you’ve encountered the molten knight numerous times after the first one, it never pays any mind to you. like you’re some harmless little butterfly on the battlefield of bloodshed. sam has no qualms in tearing down your fellow peers, but you, you are precious. and unbeknownst to you, firefly visits you often, not as sam, but as herself. she likes watching you in your sleep, seeing that she requires much less sleep than the average person. it’s comforting enough to be in your presence, and she always wonders what you dream about. it is also the only time the two of you may ever share each other’s company in peace.

[the-moon-devi]

Devi's De'Luxe

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒍𝒖𝒙𝒙𝒆 (𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕). 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒅 & 𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆 & 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅. 𝑰 𝒈𝒐 𝒃𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒂'𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝑻𝒚𝒍𝒂𝒉! 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 16 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔. 𝑰'𝒎 19 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚. 𝑰 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝑽𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄 & 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒅𝒔. (𝑽𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒐) 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔. 𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒄𝒐-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔/ 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 & 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒆. 😭 𝑯𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈! 𝑰'𝒎 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍, 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 & 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒅 , 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔/𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒔. 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈! 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒎 𝒐𝒇 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔! 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈! 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏 & 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔! ~𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵 🌊🐚💙💋

𝓨����𝓾 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓬𝓴 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓮 𝓞𝓾𝓽…..

❤️‍🔥𝓗𝓸𝓽 𝓐𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝔂

𝓦𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓐 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰?

𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 // 𝓡𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓮𝔀𝓼

𝓐𝓼𝓴 𝓟𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓬𝔂 🚨

𝓛𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓮

𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬:

𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐝 // 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬

𝐀𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐬 (𝟒𝟒𝟔)

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬:

𝐀𝐬𝐜 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞

𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬:

𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐚 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:

𝐖𝐞𝐛𝐛 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐚 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ~ (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧...)

➡ 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨: 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 // 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡

𝐊𝐥𝐞𝐭 (𝟐𝟏𝟗𝟗)

𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 // 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐫𝐚 / 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐛 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭

𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 (𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝)

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 & 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐏𝐭.𝟏 𝐏𝐭.𝟐

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐀𝐂'𝐒

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐭 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐁𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢 🌙

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐭

𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯��𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬:

𝐇𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐬

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦/𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐎𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

𝐓𝐨 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐬,

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡?

𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡…

𝐌𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲/𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞: 𝟏 𝟐

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐘/ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐲 / 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬 🍑

𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐈 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥

𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐩 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐚��𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲:

𝐍𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, & 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝟒𝐡 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲

𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐬:

𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐚 (1487)

𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞 (1388)

𝐊𝐥𝐞𝐭 (2199)

𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞 (3768)

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐚 (268)

𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐚 (149)

𝐊𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚 (216)

𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞 (1009)

𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐚 (408)

𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 (695)

𝐀𝐬𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞

𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞

Moon Devi:

𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, & 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡: 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍'𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝑶𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐙𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐬

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐬: 𝟏 𝟐 𝟑

𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲..... 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐱𝐱

[h0riz0nstuff]

Aloy discovering that HFW has real fireflies instead of the fake ones in HZD

[adorablegorilla]

A moth girl and a firefly girl dating. Is that anything

[cicadaknight]

“It seemed like there’s bad blood between you two.”

“There is.”

[luciolefire]

i am,, looking. respectfully,

AKDZXKHSGZHSFZGVD WHY IS SHE SO PRETTY AM I JUST TOO GAY FOR THIS

[chippersweetaloy]

I spend way too much time in photo-mode.

[goldom]

I made a comment to my spouse today that "you can't pretend to kill a character in act 1, then actually kill them in the finale. Well, unless you're Star Trek 2."

But now thinking about it, it feels like there is a nonzero chance of HSR lifting that sequence of events directly.

Before the release of ST2, people had heard that Spock was going to die in it. To get people to relax and enjoy the movie, he "died" early on, but it was revealed to be a simulation. Then at the end, he sacrifices himself to save the Enterprise and dies for real.

I can absolutely see Firefly's story going this way.

But if you know Star Trek, you know what happens next. Spock's body is left on a planet undergoing rapid terraforming that creates life out of nothing, and he is revived in the third movie.

And what do you know, HSR also has a place where life grows wild and death has no hold. Now given how evilly it's been portrayed, they'd have to really reverse course to finish this analogy, but what if we went there next, and in 3.2, TB gets the ol Yaoshi gaze and is able to revive Firefly. Cue To Be Continued, then they finally reunite in 3.3, along with some pretty severe consequences from the Hunt.

To be clear I do not think this is likely, nor do I want it to happen (just let her on the train and be happy), but I would love to see Stelle get full abundancepilled and just give the finger to anyone who doesn't want her reviving her gf.

Or maybe I'm just really into Forbidden Girlfriend Resurrection lately. It's romantic okay

(Another theory is that she's gonna get stellaronned like us, which cures her, but is also probably Not Good in the future.)

[no-title-currently]

Took me a minute to find the correct angle to properly capture it, but the fireflies seen around the red grass you can hide in actually have a rather detailed model! With my minimal knowledge of fireflies, I really only have the color of the light, combined with the colors and shape of the head to go off of. However, I believe this is based off of the Photinus Pyralis, more commonly known as the Common Eastern Firefly.

[pa1nrema1ns]

Master and Apprentice || Sung Jin-woo (Part 1 of 3)

Siren!Jin-woo x Deaf!Omega!reader

A/N - Hello everyone! This fic was inspired by the lovely @forbidden-sunlight's siren!au. We both collaborated on this piece and it serves as a direct sequel to her imagine, so do be sure to check it out first! This story picks up right where her imagine left off.

╰┈➤ Prequel by @forbidden-sunlight

Content warnings: 18+ MDNI, mythical creatures au, canon divergent, a/b/o dynamics, afab!reader, suggestive themes, obsessive thoughts, slightly ooc Jin-woo (he's very reverent towards Ashborn), mentions of violence, death, and despair, forbidden romance (humans and sirens are natural enemies), eventual yandere!Jin-woo.

Word Count - 3.6k

Summary - Sung Jin-woo seeks answers about his potential mate from Ashborn in the deepest depths of the abyss.

Dividers by @anitalenia and @firefly-graphics

After what feels like an eternity, Jin-woo comes to an abrupt stop. He wasn’t tired in the slightest, but he couldn’t finish this journey unless he was in the right frame of mind. If he was going to face the sea monarch, Ashborn, then he needed to compose himself. He was his mentor’s prized disciple, after all.

Resolute in his decision, Jin-woo pinches his brow, shuts his eyes, and releases a deep, suffering sigh. He had to stop ruminating over the useless ‘what ifs’ of his current situation and focus on the matter at hand. You emitting pheromones in his presence was proof enough that you were a compatible mate, but this would be meaningless if you were unreceptive to him. It also begs the question, was humanity even capable of consorting with sirens? In search of an answer, he reminisces about the tales of old passed down by generations of his kin, as well as the many speculations made by humans.

No one knew the exact origins of his species. Most humans assumed the progenitors were Persephone’s handmaidens, punished by Demeter after Hades had taken her daughter to the underworld and forced her into becoming his queen. Some stories also claimed that seafoam  birthed them, but Jin-woo scoffed at this particularly ridiculous rumor. A scholar had recently published an article on how sirens may actually be the offspring of the river deity Achelous and a divine songstress, citing notations from various mythos on this theory. In truth, reality was far simpler than any of these far-fetched narratives.

There was just no definitive explanation for the existence of sirens. They were not interchangeable with the peaceful denizens of the ocean, known as mermaids and mermen. While all fell under the umbrella of the term ‘merfolk,’ the sirens had a far more hostile and bloodstained relationship with humans.

Since time immemorial, his brethren were viewed as nothing but a scourge upon this world of humanity. Beautiful as a raging typhoon and every bit as devastating, the sirens served as harbingers of doom and destruction for those foolish enough to risk the perilous waters. Their heavenly voices were tantamount to the funeral dirges used to usher the dead into the afterlife. It would be understandable to believe that the sirens were the monsters in this baleful story. However, human nature at its core is fraught with wickedness, and men soon grew wise to the machinations of merfolk.

Odysseus was the first to survive an encounter with sirens. During his voyage to Ithaca, the cunning man had instructed his crew to plug their ears with beeswax, effectively blocking the intoxicating songs that had ended the lives of so many before them. Emboldened by the success of Odysseus’s scheme, other sailors began using this method to conquer the sea and establish trade routes. Within a matter of a couple hundred years, humans not only overcame their fear of sirens, but they also poached them. Huntsmen would capture, torture, and kill Jin-woo’s ancestors simply for crossing paths with them. Worse yet, these scoundrels would often murder merfolk solely to harvest their organs, bones, and scales. They would then use the defiled corpses as ingredients for commodities, medication, and even aphrodisiacs. It was truly grotesque, if not outright barbaric, and more than justified the ire his kind felt towards humanity. While they hunted for the noble sake of survival, men did it for bloodsport and money.

The horrific fates suffered by many of their beloved brothers and sisters particularly infuriated the alphas, with their robust constitutions and natural sense of leadership. With a thirst for vengeance, they began targeting and attacking ships, ports, and even beaches. The alphas considered any place or vehicle that harbored humans as eligible targets. The less temperamental betas remained neutral and avoided the bloodshed, opting to prey upon shoals of fish and other maritime animals instead. Omegas could not join in the hunt, as they were far too precious to lose. They were the most cherished and talented singers amongst the sirens and required around-the-clock protection because of their significant rarity. These were the origins of the current hierarchical structure Jin-woo adhered to.

After recalling the tumultuous history of his people in its entirety, Jin-woo clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. This was so damn frustrating! Rather than granting him an understanding of his attraction, it just proved all the more why it was so illogical. 

Defeated, Jin-woo raises his head, opens his eyes, and continues to swim.

Another hour passes before he finds himself at the ingress of Ashborn’s lair. His enigmatic teacher lived in almost complete obscurity. Devoid of any light, and enveloped by a suffocating aura, this nautical cavern intimidated all who dared to approach it. Well, almost all that is apart from Jin-woo. He effortlessly permeates the invisible barrier designed to keep intruders at bay and ventures into his master’s spiritual domain.

Despite being an ancient and powerful king of the sea, Ashborn made the strange decision to emulate a land-like environment in his personal chambers.

As Jin-woo manifests into the realm, his appearance gives way to a form more befitting of a land dweller. His tail separates into two legs, his scales smoothen into skin, and he loses the winged fins on his ears and back. Once finished with this metamorphosis, Jin-woo takes a deep breath. Fresh pine, grass, and flowers perfume the air as he’s greeted by a lush valley. It had been a while since he had visited, and the setting had required him to transform into a human. Interestingly, transfiguration was one of the first skills Ashborn taught him. Speaking of his mentor –

“My disciple, it is good to see you again, though you appear…troubled. Tell me, what ails you so?” A rumbling voice rings across the horizon, signaling Ashborn’s approach; the tenebrous essence of the powerful deity contrasting with the greenery of the land. He appears in front of Jin-woo as a great dark knight. Much like his surroundings, Ashborn’s current visage was nothing but an illusion. Even the bravest of warriors said that his lifelike image invoked sheer terror in their hearts.

Many speculate he possesses a massive stature, at least several leagues in height and breadth alone, with piercing eyes and endless tendrils of dark hair. Others claim he is the son of Poseidon, one of the twelve Olympians, and a God of destruction who presided over the sea. However, Jin-woo never once witnessed this side of his teacher in all the years he’s been under his mentorship. Ashborn certainly exuded dignity, but he still displayed a humble attitude. And without fail, he would always appear in that strange, armored suit whenever he was in Jin-woo’s presence.

“My teacher, I must ask for your help on an urgent matter,” Jin-woo starts, anxiously running his tongue across his bottom lip. “This morning, while I was scavenging, I stumbled across the unmistakable aroma of an unmarked omega. It…it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. As if I was being beckoned by someone or something. I wanted, no, I needed to heed its call.”

Ashborn listens in silence, his expression indiscernible. Jin-woo continued.

 “When I arrived, I was in front of a monstrosity of a ship – a yacht right by the sandbanks. At first, I assumed that someone had taken an unfortunate siren captive. But when I finally saw her–”

“You recognized she was human. Not only that, but she belongs to the lowest level of the hierarchy, an omega. Speak if I am wrong, my dear pupil.” Jin-woo lowers his head in shame, fringe obscuring his eyes. This action all but confirms it.

“I don’t know what to do or how to proceed, teacher. Everything I’ve learned about these creatures has made me detest them. But I can’t bring myself to hate her. How could this even be possible? We are not even of the same species. She’s my enemy, my prey…. At least, she’s supposed to be.” His voice lowers into a near whisper as he ends his confused rambling.

“And yet you don’t view her that way, do you child?” Ashborn poses a question he already knows the answer to but needs to hear in his pupil’s own words.

“No, I don’t,” Jin-woo replies grimly. “I yearn to know more about her. And not just that. I want to meet her, court her, and make her mine. If she’ll even have me, that is… So please, teacher, tell me if there is any meaning behind what I feel. Am I destined for something that bears no place in reality?”

Ashborn remains uncharacteristically quiet while faced with such a loaded question. All is eerily silent for a few moments, save for the cheerful chirping of the illusionary songbirds. At last, the monarch gazes at Jin-woo and gives him the answer he so desperately desires.

“It is entirely possible Sung Jin-woo, alpha of Jindo island, for I am proof of such a fantastical circumstance. My first and only love was also a human omega. A woman I devoted my entire being to over a millennium ago.”

Jin-woo’s eyes widened in shock at this revelation. His mentor had fallen in love at some point, and it was with a member of the human race? This was unheard of.

“I never knew you had a lover,” Jin-woo murmurs softly. “What was she like? Do you still remember everything about her after so many years?”

“Let me show you, my disciple. It is a tragic tale that words alone cannot properly convey.” With a wave of Ashborn’s hand, their surroundings began to morph and alter. The valley transforms into a spacious, yet quaint medieval village composed of several wooden houses with a bustling marketplace at its center.

When Jin-woo regains his bearings, he notices his mentor has also metamorphosized. A man with a sun kissed complexion, long dark hair, and a beard stands where he once stood. Though visibly unrecognizable, he was unmistakably Ashborn. A crimson cape was clasped to the pristine silver armor he wore. A paladin. Jin-woo recalls. He had some knowledge of the past lives of men through his rare excursions onto the Mainland. While disguised as a human, Jin-woo once traded in his goods for a textbook on history. He was loath to admit just how intriguing he had found it.

Ashborn speaks, his voice no longer resonating within the confines of shadowy steel.

“It was here in this village that I came across her. She was the only daughter of a peasant farmer. A strong-willed, rapscallion of a woman with a wit sharper than any blade. I can remember her beauty, her warmth, and her tenacity as clear and concise as the day we met.” He says with a wistful gaze. The scene then shifts to a woman in a pure white gown. Her eyes remained hidden, but it did nothing to impede upon her loveliness. The woman runs animatedly towards a man who looks identical to Ashborn’s borrowed likeness and leaps into his arms. The man then effortlessly spins her around before bringing her into a kiss. Jin-woo watches on, mesmerized by what was unfolding in front of him.

“I feared her rejection once she knew the truth of my identity,” Ashborn admits. “On the night we first made love, I finally revealed to her my status as ruler of the sea. However, it did not matter. She loved me wholly and unconditionally, regardless of who or what I was. Such was the strength of her resolve.” In the next instance, they return to the same valley from earlier. What differs this time is that the man and woman are there, unacknowledging of Jin-woo and Ashborn’s presence. Lost in their own special world. The woman has a flower crown on her head, and she sits on the grass, holding the man’s head in her lap. Both appear happy and at ease.

“For the first time in my existence, I experienced true contentment. I long to return to those days, but alas, our bliss did not last.”

Ashborn solemnly shuts his eyes as darkness overtakes the sky and rain falls. The man is now shown standing at a grave with an expression of anguish marring his face. The woman is nowhere to be seen, although Jin-woo knows exactly where she’s at.

“A plague was scourging the land and indiscriminately ending the lives of thousands. I tried to protect her with my magic, but it was to no avail. She fell gravely ill despite my best efforts. I discovered shortly thereafter that omegas were more susceptible to sickness than their contemporaries. If I had known beforehand, I would’ve brought her to the sea with me, away from that damned disease. But I was a fool who was willing to love and live with her as a man, not as a king. And as punishment for my hubris, an ailment snuffed out her life.”

At the end of his recollection, Ashborn’s lair returns to its original state. His mentor had also regained his shadowy exterior. The valley appears completely untouched by time, as if it were still one thousand years in the past. That’s why his lair looks like this. Jin-woo thinks as he finally recognizes its significance, It was their personal sanctuary. After a few moments of silence, Ashborn speaks.

“Although our circumstances are similar, you still have the privilege of choice. I cannot turn back time, nor can I change the past, but I am grateful. I experienced unspeakable grief, yes, but I also would have never encountered such love, tenderness, and passion had I not taken a chance on my omega. You, my disciple, still have free rein over your decision. Should you choose to pursue this woman, you have my blessing and irrefutable proof that she is a viable mate for you. If not, you will still receive my unwavering support in your future endeavors. The choice is yours to make.”

Jin-woo’s throat bobs. He feels an incredible sense of guilt at unearthing his master’s secret.

“My teacher, I apologize for prying into your past. I – I did not mean to bring up painful memories for you. I cannot imagine what you have endured. As of right now, I am not sure what it is I want, but I know for a fact I cannot give up on this human. I will need some time to contemplate and sort out my feelings. If you will excuse me.”

Jin-woo bows his head before turning to take his leave. As he approaches the exit, a sudden thought emerges at the forefront of his mind.

“Teacher, there is one more question I must ask. This human, she does not speak with words. She communicates with her hands and gestures. Is this some type of sorcery or spell that she’s casting?”

“It is most likely sign language, a manner of non-verbal communication used by humans who are unable to vocalize or hear. Perhaps she cannot speak, or has a hearing impairment, so she must express herself through other means.” Ashborn answers, curiosity lacing his voice.

Jin-woo feels his heart sinking. A siren’s serenade played a pivotal role in the mating ritual and was performed just prior to consummating an eternal bond. If what Ashborn said is true, then there is a possibility you could be immune to his song. This meant he wouldn't be able to use it on you when the time came…

He grits his teeth as he remembers your smiling face. Try as he might, Jin-woo just could not get you out of his head, nor was he willing to let you escape his grasp. You may not have realized it yet, but you had unknowingly sunk your fangs into him and the seeds of obsession were already beginning to take root. Rather than being discouraged by Ashborn’s observation, he instead finds himself reinvigorated.

“Teacher, disregard everything I said earlier. I now know what it is I must do.”

Ashborn peers into the eyes of his disciple, relieved by the determination that lights them. This was much more like the obstinate young man he knew.

“I choose to seek this omega and stake my claim, no matter what challenges may await the two of us,” Jin-woo proclaims proudly. “I will make her mine, but only if she consents to my proposal. And if not through song, then through other courtship methods. I am strong, stronger than any other alpha in my territory, and I know I can protect her from all who would wish her harm. I won’t let my mate slip through my fingers.”

“But what of maladies and the passage of time? You can fight against gods and monsters until the end of your days, but sickness or her ephemeral lifespan will not spare this young woman. In the end, your time with her shall be fleeting.” Ashborn ruthlessly counters Jin-woo’s declaration of protection.

Jin-woo bites his lip, not expecting this development. However, before he can muster a response, his mentor graces him with an answer.

“I know of one way you can overcome this. There is a recipe for an elixir known as the Holy Water of Life. It is a miraculous potion that can imbue invulnerability to communicable diseases, extend lifespan, and transform the consumer into a siren. I unfortunately did not have knowledge of such a panacea while I was with my love. Of course, I live with the regret of not discovering it sooner, as now I have no such use for it, but this does not mean I will idly stand by and let history repeat itself with my protégé.”

With a flash of light, an ancient scroll appears in front of Jin-woo. It unravels by itself to reveal its contents to him. Jin-woo’s eyes widen as he reads. Is this…?

“Behold. The ingredients for crafting the Holy Water of Life. I bequeath this boon unto you, my disciple. However, heed my warning as the acquisition of these components requires you to conquer all 100 floors of the Demon’s Castle and to defeat its king, Baran. This is a treacherous dungeon that may claim your life if you are unprepared for it, but it can also impart you with unspeakable power should you prevail.”

Jin-woo perks up at this information, his interest now fully piqued. “Tell me, master, where can I find the Demon’s Castle?”

“It hides far away, in the city of Seoul, within an incorporeal dominion. It is a flame-ridden landscape that will require you to assume the form of a human to enter the castle. Knowing all the risks it entails; do you still accept my offer?”

“I do,” Jinwoo confidently states.

“Very well,” Ashborn nods his assent, and a key materializes into Jin-woo’s palm.

“Use this key to open the gate to the Demon’s Castle. I have also implanted it with the coordinates to the dungeon’s location. You need only close your eyes and grasp onto the key to visualize it.”

Following the instructions, Jin-woo sees a map that details the exact distance from his current whereabouts to the metropolitan area of Seoul. It will be a lengthy trip, even with his impressive swimming prowess. He estimates it will take roughly half a day to arrive at his destination. Undeterred, Jin-woo presses onward.

“Teacher, I cannot thank you enough for all your help and guidance over these last few years. I give you my word; I will return alive and well, both with the elixir and Baran’s head. And then I will meet with the omega and court her in earnest.”

He departs without another word, although his promise relays an unspoken farewell between them. After some time passes, Ashborn stares at the vast skies of his domain and muses to himself.

“You have grown so much from when I rescued you from the Cartenon Temple all those years ago, Sung Jin-woo. I could not be prouder of you, my disciple. Till our next encounter.”

12 hours later...

Jin-woo finally emerges from the dark, briny waters that frame Seoul’s coastline.

After leaving Ashborn’s lair, he briefly returned home to pack and prepare for the journey ahead. Both Jin-ah and his mother were worried about his sudden departure, so he did the best he could to assuage their fears by giving them a sanitized version of the truth.

Jin-woo claimed Ashborn had provided him with a list of rare ingredients that were only available for purchase in the human markets at Seoul. He even promised to bring back a box of chocolates as a souvenir, something his mother and little sister had enjoyed during one of his return trips to the surface. He then traveled the full 413-kilometer distance from Jindo-gun to Seoul, stopping only for a few hours to rest and recuperate.

As he approaches land, he assumes the form of a naked human man and walks inland from the sea. However, Jin-woo comes to a halt when he becomes more aware of his current state of nudity. While it didn’t bother him, it would cause a lot of unnecessary trouble if any nosy beachgoers happened upon him and asked questions. It is also…pretty embarrassing to admit that he is…wobbly on these legs. Very much so.

He quickly summons his magical inventory and grabs a simple black t-shirt, boxers, fitted jeans, and athletic sneakers (‘Adidas’, the portly sales attendant had called them). As worthless as he found human decorum to be, Jin-woo needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible while he was in disguise. Once dressed, he strolled into the city. After 45 minutes, he found himself at the designated street junction on the map. Taking a deep breath, he brings forth the key, turns it, and unlocks the gate. 

⚓︎ To be continued...

[gurugirl]

Ex-Boyfriend's Dad!Harry

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship au

Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)

Series Summary: You break up with your boyfriend and confide in his dad about some very personal issues you had with his son. And Harry thinks he can help.

Based on these requests: Here Here Here Here Here (there are more in my #into the drafts tag but y'all get the hint - this was heavily requested 🖤)

Part 1 (8.2k words) TEASER

After you break up with your boyfriend, his dad, Harry, stops by your apartment to drop off a few of your things. But that's not all he's there to bring you.

Part 2 (10.8k words) TEASER

Harry wants to show you what you've been missing if you'll let him. OR The filthy smutty one

Part 3 (8.3k) TEASER

You get to try things with Harry you never had the chance to before but the more you get to know him the more of him you want. And that's a problem.

Part 4 (10k) TEASER

You and Harry are both missing each other and despite Tyler's sudden interest in talking to you, Harry's determined to finish what you both started.

divider by @firefly-graphics

[anika-ann]

A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events - S.R.

Part 1 of 2

Type: two-shot, idiots-in-love, feel-good fic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 7,3k

Summary:  It's just a bunch of Avengers and SHIELD agents who often cooperate on missions - hanging out and getting to know each other better on a camping trip. What could possibly go wrong?

A few things. A few things could and they all seem to have you at the centre. Luckily, you have a hero in shining armour to help you in the time of need.

Warnings: allusions to NSFW, minor injuries, mention of misogyny, brief reference to PTSD, language, attempt at humour, FLUFF , Steve being a menace

A/N: written for the Essie’s Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration. Congrats @bigtreefest and thank you for hosting 💕 I have chosen multiple prompts - in this one, you shall find “why’s it…sticky?” and modified “here, you can share with me”. I hope to finish the second part in time 😁

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰 Several Agent of SHIELD characters are involved - I don't think you need any knowledge of the show to read this

The afternoon North Carolina sun warmed your skin pleasantly, even as you found yourself panting after the having climbed up the hill you. The backpack with an attached sleeping bag and a tent pack was growing heavier and heavier on your shoulders with every step, but the view and the company – most of it anyway – were certainly worth it.

Everyone seemed affected by the fresh air and exercise the Great Smokey Mountains provided, the atmosphere light and content as this was, for most, the first trip in a long time that had nothing to do with a mission.

Sure, one could argue there were some strings attached, as the ‘mission’ was to solidify relationships within the group – several Avengers and several SHIELD agents who were often outsourced for Avengers-level missions – but still: no one was shooting at you. And you wouldn’t have to write a report. That counted for something. For a lot, in fact.

Plus, the path was the goal. The destination, while set precisely according to Steve’s plan, might as well be just about anywhere.

You glanced at him as he walked by your side, smiling absently. The corners of his lips only twitched higher as he noticed you watching him, his gaze flickering to you as well.

He looked as if he was born to do this. A halo of dark blond hair around his head ruffled by the wind, sunlight painting them almost golden. The heaviest backpack of all sitting on his wide shoulders, straps around his broad chest and thin waist. Legs clad in light track pants that hugged his thighs and ass in the best way possible, a downright magnetic sight--- no.

Uh-huh, no.

No thoughts of that sort. You had forbidden yourself from that, at least for the duration of this trip, because you had known Steve would be a literal walking thirst-trap, the sheer happiness surrounding him making his glow ten times brighter. You had forbidden yourself from thinking like this, because this was not an appropriate observation to make about a colleague, a superior no less, even as everybody else probably thought along the same lines.

It didn’t matter that you wanted to throw hands at the mere idea of someone else making that observation as well. You didn’t exactly have the right to do that and it was a lost fight before it even started. Steve Rogers was simply too beautiful and essentially perfect in all his imperfections, and god knew that those imperfection had nothing to with his body. Ass included-

Gaze quickly snapping up back to his face, you found him smiling at you warmly, a soft dusting of freckles adorning his cheeks from the prolonged exposure to sun. The same phenomenon could be observed on his bare arms; a constellation of freckles, where angels had kissed their kindest, prettiest and most loyal creation; a constellation of places where you’d love to press your lips and linger, breathe in the scent of his skin and taste it.

God, he was breathtaking and all kinds of alluring. The nature around you was too, sure, the smell of pines and sandy rocks whispering of vacations and good times, but the way he-

“Whoa!” you yelped as you suddenly found yourself tumbling towards the ground, foot having slipped on a rock, you supposed.

Hands outstretched, you had no chance to break the fall, only to slow it, the burden on your back completely changing your momentum.

The second your palms as much as brushed the rocky floor, you were being held by your waist so firmly that none of your actual weight landed on the ground. You would recognize the arms holding you anywhere – just like the scent of sandal wood, musk, man and comfort, suddenly wrapping around you.

The safest place on Earth.

Steve’s arms.

Your stomach made a little flip-flop as his hands squeezed you gently and helped you up, only releasing you when his eyes found yours, silently asking if you were okay.

You responded with an embarrassed smile.

“Whoa, you okay?” Daisy rushed to your side, bless her, breaking the brief moment you had allowed yourself to bask in the sweet worry in Steve’s gaze and in the heat his body was radiating, despite the fact you could feel everyone staring at the newly nominated klutz of the group of superspies. You.

Heat of embarrassment flooded your skin under everyone’s scrutiny – and more so under the judgement in Agent Hopkinson’s glare, the jerk. Then again, you could hardly blame him for looking down on you right now.

Allegedly one of the deadliest agents known to the world; bested by a few rocks on a hiking trail and Steve Rogers’s smile.

You chuckled self-deprecatingly, quietly thanking Steve and turning to Daisy to assure her that besides your pride, nothing had been seriously wounded.

“I’m fine,” you said, scratching your forehead with a poor attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Must have missed a step, I don’t even know how…”

You did know how. You knew it precisely. You hadn’t been watching your step, too mesmerized by the beauty of your favourite Captain – and favourite person in the world. The man with the most honest, goodest, fiercest and most beautiful soul you had ever met, your closest friend.

“I do,” Agent Melinda May commented dryly, a pointed look aimed at your feet, revealing the culprit – and making you wish the Earth could swallow you, especiallysince it was her, the second in command at SHIELD – and one of the most admirable women in history of anything. And she had just seen you, an agent for both Avengers and SHIELD, a master of martial arts, to trip on nothing like a five-year-old. For the same reason too. “Your shoelaces are undone.”

“…thanks. And sorry. Go ahead. I think I can tie my shoelaces on my own,” you chuckled again, swallowing the shame even as you were among friends. Albeit some of them more reluctant than others.

“Clearly not,” Agent Hopkinson remarked, not missing the opportunity to belittle you, making you sigh as you crouched down, taking extreme care not to as much as wobble despite the heavy backpack.

Case on point, you supposed.

Having worked for SHIELD for years now, acting as the main liaison for situations where Avengers needed help, be it due to too many hostiles or the nature of the job leaning more towards spy-work that alien-invasion-work, your general experience was that tolerance and cooperation were the way. Some people were less pleasant than others, that much was true, but one should handle disagreements, various personality traits and different views on life. You certainly could; your approach to conflict, your supposedly calming presence and search for harmony in a team and the calm composure you maintained under pressure to quickly weigh your options, had even earned you your codename, Libra.

You genuinely believed tuning down an attitude for the sake of the mission was the custom, the golden rule.

And then you encountered Agent Martin Hopkinson. He was the exception. And a pain in your ass.

He got along alright with most people despite his arrogance; but you and him were a trainwreck happening in slow motion. He did not like you. Whether it was jealousy of your position, misogyny, or both, or something completely else, you wouldn’t know. But he was bitter and biting, always looking for a flaw, always making snidey comments.

You could handle that – an insult here, a mean comment there. After all, you could take a punch, a stab, a gunshot wound. You could take down men twice your size with your bare hands and just a little wit, if you tried hard enough. You had faced soldiers, rapists, murderers; Agent Hopkinson was but a small hindrance, annoyance on legs. But by god, your fists itched whenever he opened his mouth. And the feeling was mutual.

However, as a professional, you worked hard not to reciprocate his aggression, even as it only ever remained verbal; the same could not be said about him. And he didn’t care zilch about who heard him be ‘smart’ with you either, which, in turn, led to several reprimands; and on one delightful occasion, to Steve almost breaking his jaw when he heard him utter a comment about Coulson pimping out the pet agent again, clearly meaning you. The wrath Steve had showed was nothing hort of holy, and holy was the miracle that Hopkinson was still alive; the fact he barely toned down his attitude was just idiocy.

But had you mention Steve was an angel? A fiercely loyal protective friend, a gentleman, who might swear on occasion and be a little shit par excellence, but god should help anyone whose behaviour towards others offended him. He might be an angel, but was an avenging one.

A caring one too.

As soon as you stood up again, Steve was carefully cradling the backs of your hands, examining the teeny scrapes over your palms with about five droplets of blood in total, frowny gaze flickering to your knee which you hadn’t even realized you had grazed too.

“We should disinfect that.”

“Steve, I’m fine,” you laughed, even as you let him examine the barely-there bleeding, knowing there was no use trying to resist. “Thank you for caring, but it’s literally just a scratch… I’ve had worse.”

He shook his head, his expression darkening a bit. “That’s not comforting and you know it. And any wound, if infected, can be dangerous – I know I don’t have to tell you that.”

You knew instantly what instance he was referring too, a small shudder running up your spine. Yet, the rational part of you argued that there was no comparison, even if the cut on your arm over a month back had not been all that deeper and wider than this.

“That was literally a poisoned blade, Steve-“

“We were about to take one more break before reaching the destination anyway,” he interrupted you, unrelenting. “Let’s head up to that clearing and we’ll rest for a bit. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Steve-“

“I’ve got the first aid kit,” Bobbi uttered nonchalantly as she passed you, joining the others who had gone ahead already.

You sighed. Bobbi Morse – an agent with a clever sense of humour, sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude, a good friend – and she was using all of her powers against you. Wicked.

“It’s just a-“

“Captain’s orders,” she almost sing-sang, earning a grin from Daisy who only shrugged, as if to confirm her words.

You sighed, rolling your eyes; acutely not aware that Steve was still holding your hands in his and your body was heating up from inside at the prolonged contact – particularly your chest and something deep within your belly.

You looked up at him, mildly annoyed and rather amused at his insistence and protectiveness. And even though you wouldn't admit that out loud, touched.

“You’re overbearing. You’re lucky I like you,” you scolded him in a whisper.

He only grinned, his worried gaze clearing and lightning up at your feigned outrage, and squeezed your hands before letting go.

“I love you too. Let’s go.”

You bit your cheek as you nodded, reminding yourself for at least the tenth time since you had set off hiking: friends. The keyword of this trip was ‘friends’.

It was just really hard to actually remember that when Steve looked at you like that, talked like that, and you could still feel the warm imprint of his hands on yours.

Steve Rogers was a man impossible not to fall for; from almost absurd handsomeness to even more absurd goodness he lived by, from his sharp wits to effective moves, from the crinkles in his eyes when he smiled to the tenderness in his touch. His sense of humour equalled to the one of duty, his drive and determination in leading interlacing with a soul of an artist and a simple man who appreciated the most ordinary things.

You had clicked instantly; your friendship bloomed almost effortlessly, working alongside him making for many opportunities to spend time together. Despite barely having met about three months ago, the times you owed him your life for were numerous; and the few times he owed you his, even as there was no such thing as keeping score, only strengthened your bond. Moments where you thought you wouldn’t make it out. Long nights at motels or in a stake-out cars, filled with mindless chatter, profound talks and comfortable silences. His goddamn smiles alone, always feeling a little warmer, fonder, when directed at you.

The fact he had quickly slipped into a habit of calling you Lee, a nickname derived from your codename with a wordless implication of you being his refuge, with that damn smile on his plush lips, was making something in your ribcage tremble with affection.

You had fallen hard. But who wouldn’t? You were only human.

And his proximity, his friendship, his affection, they were most precious to you; no matter which form they’d have, you’d take it.

Even if it meant inappropriate thoughts and your heart racing fast enough to collapse from exhaustion when he cleaned your scraped knee and palms with such care and focus one might believe they were fatal wounds.

Your heart would tremble less if he hadn’t kneeled in front of you as he did so, but you supposed Steve Rogers was just that kind of deadly. He cradled your hands in his huge ones as if they were as fragile as butterfly wings, smiling when he was done; and grinning when you said Thank you, nurse Rogers, the words carrying both humour and respect for his late mother.

His smile resembled the sun so much you almost missed how the actual sunrays grew less and less warm. It was only a few minutes later – every one of them making you aware of the either knowing or incredulous looks following yours or Steve’s every move, almost enough to make you self-conscious when snacking – when you realized you were getting cold.

The solution was easy; and despite how effective it would have been in chasing away the cold and lifting your spirits, it did not involve hugging Steve. Instead, you dived your hand down your backpack through the layer of snacks and other small necessities towards your clothes for the occasion.

And your hand reached something it most definitely shouldn’t have.

“What the-“ you murmured, still acutely aware of all the gazes on you, now joined by Steve’s. “Why is it… sticky?”

Puzzled and horrified – and suspicious, because Hopkinson might have never played a prank on you, but lines always had to be crossed for the first time someday – you threw out the things from the top, pulling out what was normally one of your favourite sweatshirts.

Fairly soaked in a rusty-red oily substance that now resided in your luggage.

Not that it hadn’t been there before – but before, it was safely stored in a Tupperware container along with the thin marinated steaks you had been tasked to carry for the team’s first dinner above fire, Hunter carrying the grate.  

“What is it?” Bobbi asked, frowning at the poor article of clothing you had intended to wear.

You didn’t have to sniff it to answer; mostly because the scent of spices was strong enough to answer for you.

“It’s the… marinade from our dinner,” you informed her with a grimace, a small whine escaping you as you went to inspect the rest of your clothes with dread and irritation rising. Because you already knew that the sweatshirt would not be the only thing having been hit. There had been enough to marinade to drown Steve and Bucky in – that was why you had triple-checked it was secured when you had pulled the straw for carrying it in your backpack. “How is that even possible?! I swear I checked it at least five times! I used rubber bands and a plastic bag and- ugh.”

“It probably gave out with all the moving around,” Natasha said, compassion evident in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed.

And it was. You were only just beginning to feel the mountains part of your destination. You weren’t even shivering – and god knew you had been exposed to much worse conditions with fewer clothing. It wasn’t even raining. You had been through much worse – this was but an inconvenience.

Kinda like Hopkinson himself.

Your gaze flickered to him as he himself put on a thin hoodie, your gaze narrowing in subtle suspicion; but there was no way. He almost looked as if he was pitying you. Genuinely. Though not enough to share his clothes; not that you’d accept if he had offered. But that was beside the point. The point was he probably wasn’t to be blamed for your current misery. Not where marinating your clothes was concerned anyway.

It was probably all on you. It seemed your Tupperware skills still needed some work. Goddamnit.

“It is fine,” you spoke to yourself more than anyone else. “I’ll walk the cold off and then stay close to the fire-“

Your heart skipped a beat as you felt a presence by your side, a large navy-blue hoodie entering your sight; it was as if talking about your potential inconvenience summoned him.

An angel by your shoulder.

With a soft frown and a welcoming smile, he set the hoodie next to you as your hands still held onto your tainted clothes.

“Hey… here, you can have mine.”

You opened your mouth to protest, the words dying in your throat when you met Steve’s gaze. The golden hour had arrived, highlighting the freckles and the god-like warm glow of his smile. Your fingers reflexively twitched in the fabric of the t-shirt in your hands as the urge to run them through Steve’s hair instead hit you like a sledgehammer.

Friends, you reminded yourself again. FRIENDS.

He was offering a friendly gesture. It was no different than borrowing boxing wraps from Hunter for training if yours had torn, borrowing a dress from Natasha because none of yours fit the theme of a party, or borrowing heels from Daisy because they matched better than anything you owned. There was nothing special about this and no one would think twice.

Yet, it was a gesture you had to turn down, no matter how gentlemanly it was – no matter how at home you knew you’d feel in that hoodie. The idea alone was tickling along the most sensitive parts of your body and for that alone you should refuse.

“Thank you, Steve… but that wouldn’t be fair,” you said. “You shouldn’t be cold because of me.”

Plus, I know this one is your favourite, you wanted to say, but bit your tongue, aware that the scene was already out-of-chart intimate as it was. It certainly felt like it.

“I won’t. You know I run pretty hot…”

You are hot, you wanted to say – but a little choked noise from Hopkinson and Bucky had you quickly set your mind straight.

Until Steve pulled out the big guns – rather literally. Long fingers wrapped around your bare forearm, goosebumps erupting on your skin despite the nearly burning sensation, breath catching. It did not help the situation that something you didn’t dare to identify for the sake of your sanity flashed in Steve’s eyes when he touched you.

Friends. Friends, friends, FRIENDS-

“See. All warm. And it will stay that way even without a hoodie. Take it. Please,” he added. And soon, a content smile appeared on his face, because he recognized the signs of you yielding.

A girl had to pick her battles. Arguing with Steve was not one of those which you had no chance at winning – it would be like trying to move a ton-worth block of concrete with bare hands. You had enough experience with that – fighting with Steve on the matter of your comfort, not moving concrete – and there was no winning. He respected your choices, yes, but he’d fastened straps of a parachute on you himself if it came to it, even if it meant he wouldn’t have one himself; he was a sweet hypocrite like that.

“Fine,” you sighed, smiling just a bit. “If you insist… thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

You would swear you heard at least three people mutter under their breath: I bet.

Thoroughly warm and comfortable despite the numerous miles in your feet and tens of pounds on your back, you trailed behind Hunter and Bobbi, who were fighting animatedly – and most lovingly – about which European brand beer was the finest. For a couple who had been married and divorced, once talking about each other in not so nice terms including Bobbi being called ‘a demonic hell-beast’, they sure appeared very much in love – but every bit professional when it counted. They were lucky to find each other again, that was for sure. It made one long for a love like that; explosive as they were, you wouldn’t shy away from calling them soulmates. They belonged with each other; they were lucky to have find one another.

As you tugged at the sleeves of the hoodie you were wearing, long to easily hide your palms, you wondered if you were being lucky or cursed on this trip so far. Tripping. Spilling sauce onto your clothes. Withstanding Hopkinson’s moody glares of which exactly one resembled a shred of compassion and only lasted until you put on the hoodie of the Captain America himself. And yet, surrounded by colleagues, friends and Steve, on a trip with a sun that had slowly begun its descent at your back, you had to count your blessings.

Lucky. You were luckier than most.

Daisy had joined you for a bit, walking side by side with you when the path allowed it, meaningless chatter altering with meaningful; a natural course of conversation between close friends who were together for a few hours with nothing else to do but take it step by step, literally, admire the nature and talk.

Steve had promised it would only take less than an hour and you’d make it to where you were supposed to set camp. He had fallen behind, walking with Natasha and Bucky, who, judging by his tone and Steve’s groans, roasted the team captain about something with Natasha’s occasional but effective help.

Now, about what you assumed was twenty to thirty minutes later, the last challenge of today’s journey awaited you; fording a river.

A rather cold river.

The weather was nice, sure, and you were having a good time; but the idea of warding through water reaching your thighs was not all that alluring.

But of course, Steve Rogers was the man with a plan.

Walking down the river and finding a relatively shallow section of the river with several large rocks, all you had to do was to step from one slightly slippery stone to another without face-planting or letting your heavy backpacks break your balance. Easy – or it should be for a group of athletic agents.

Yet, Bucky and Steve were discarding their shoes in a blink, rolling up their pant legs, ready to dip in and get wet so other wouldn’t.

Your heart skipped a startled beat, a lump growing in your throat, as you watched Steve regard his friend, already knee-deep in water, with the tinniest bit of hesitance.    

Cold water. Cold water.

In the early June, the water couldn’t be colder than fifty, fifty-five degrees; but if the supersoldiers planned to stand there until all of you crossed the not-so-unsignificant distance while they’d assist, they would certainly feel it. And while history taught you both Steve and Bucky could clearly take the cold better than anyone, the idea of being the person knee-deep in the water was anything but pleasant.

Especially to someone who had already laid his life by diving a plane into icy waters of the North Atlantic.

Without a second thought, you left the line forming at the best crossing point, walking down the bank to crouch at Steve’s side.

He noticed your presence in an instant, snapping his head to you, an all-easy smile forming on his lips. As if you couldn’t see the brief flash of anxiety before he hid it. As if you couldn’t see his carotid pulsing wildly. As if he, the supposedly fearless man to all, could hide the one flicker of apprehension he allowed himself to feel from you.

“Are you sure about this, Steve?” you asked, voice as low as possible as not to attract attention.

As you met his gaze, understanding flashed in his eye. A silent conversation; he knew why you came to him, where your concern came from.

And in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he ignored it. He just gulped and squared his shoulders and rose to his feet, suddenly towering over you again.

“Of course I am.” Of course he was. “It will be much easier than all of us fording through.”

You sighed, looking at him pointedly as you swallowed your irritation – and worry. That was not what you were questioning and he knew it. And you weren’t questioning his dedication or his ability to help either; just the decision to put himself through discomfort anyone else could have taken upon themselves, when it meant more hardship for him than others.

“I know. It just… it can be literally anyone else-- hell, I can do it.”

You could. You’d warm up after soon enough, judging by the terrain awaiting you. It was a better option that him going in there to freeze his toes off at and bring him back to--

To prove your point, you reached for the backpack buckles on your belly to take it off.

Steve’s hand was on your forearm stopping you before you could undo a single one, squeezing.

As your head snapped back to his face, there was a little crack through the mask he had put on, showing just the slightest hint of anxiety now. But there was a fresh wave of warmth in his expression too; gratitude lit up the blue of his irises the way the sun lit up the summer skies, dreamy and sweet.

His thumb pressed into your forearm gently, stroking, reassuring. You felt the tension melt from your shoulders faster than a butter on the stove, something stirring deep inside your bones as you took a shaky inhale.

“Thank you, Lee, but I’ll be fine,” he said, one of his eyebrows arching, a little quirk to his lips. “And we don’t want to undo the work the hoodie has done on you.”

Right. The hoodie. His hoodie.  Yes, you were very much aware you were still wearing it, while he remained in a t-shirt that was at least one size too small for him and did all things delightful for his already insanely impressive physique.

Not the point.

You opened you mouth to argue, only to be interrupted by a shout from behind you.

“Oi, punk! You gonna help or just stand there enjoying the view?”

As you both turned to Bucky, you could see him helping Agent May cross the river, already halfway through.

Steve let go of your forearm, smiling at you once more.

“At least take the hoodie,” you insisted. He shook his head, your mouth opening on empty, deeming your effort fruitless.

“I have a jacket if I want… don’t need the hoodie,” he assured you, his grin earning a glint of danger that made your stomach flip-flop funnily, the heat in your abdomen burning hotter. “Plus, it looks much better on you.”

With that, he set off, jogging towards the water, and leaving you stand there with cheeks exploding with heat.

Damn you, Steven Grant.

Shaking your head, you returned to the line, anxiously watching Steve climb down into water, a shudder running down his spine.

“Come on. I saved you a spot,” Daisy said, gesturing for you to stand in front of her, earning an eyeroll from Hopkinson who stood behind her. “Everything okay with you and Steve?”

The phrasing had your head snap up with a startle, heart speeding up.

“What?”

What did she mean by that?! You and Steve?

No. There was you. There was Steve. Two separate entities. Friends.

Checking up on each other. Wearing each other’s clothes. Typical friends.

You relaxed when all you found in Daisy’s gaze was genuine care and curiosity, no trace of implying anything. Right.

You smiled back. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Hunter and Bobbi followed after May; then it was your turn. The sight of the river, while beautiful, got a little less pleasant as you stepped on the first stone, testing just how slippery the surface was. It wasn’t awful – you could handle that, even as you felt the extra load on your back disturbing your balance.

But hey – the worst that could happen was you taking a cold bath. Just another inconvenience, right?

Yet, you didn’t have to worry. You didn’t even make it to the second large stone when a familiar pair of warm hands wrapped around yours, offering a gentle but firm support.

You met Steve’s reassuring gaze, a message without words: I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.

You send one back, squeezing his hands: I know. You makeme feel safe. You okay?

A tiny nod on his part and then you were on your way, careful taking step after step, always testing the surface first, making sure your every move was secure before shifting your weight. From one to another, you made it halfway to the deepest part of the crossing without any issue, actually enjoying the little adventure – which had obviously nothing to do with Steve’s touch, because you were not at all disappointed to see Bucky heading back from the other side of the river where he had left Bobbi to take you off of Steve’s hands. Not at all.

You were just stepping on the next stone when you felt a sudden drop in weight on your shoulders and back, an embarrassing yelp erupting from your throat as you scrambled for balance.

A fleeing thought of this trip being cursed for you indeed flashed through your mind as you braced yourself for the impact into cold water despite still trying not to have it come to that.

And it didn’t.

A splash sounded next to you, a few drops cooling your ankle, but that was it; you stood tall and firm on the irregularly-shaped stone, a hot vice of a grip on your hips, your hands having found purchase on just as hot and solid surface nearby.

Steve’s hands securely holding your hips.

Your hands on his shoulders.

Attentive blue eyes looking up at yours to assure both you and himself that you were okay.

Your face heated up, but the rest of your body was set on fire; indecent images of a wholly different situation with Steve’s hands having a steel-like grip on your hips and his eyes boring into yours flooded your mind, a wildfire of visceral need spreading through every single cell of your body and lightning it up. Steve was all about touch. Steve was all about eye-contact. You knew with absolute certainty that he’d never once let his gaze wander from your face when he’d sheathed himself inside you, feasting his eyes, because he lived for capturing images of beauty and he was a giver, the pleasure of people he loved being his own--- and you wouldn’t dare to look away. Your eyes might flutter shut at the sensation of utter-

Forcing yourself to snap back into present – into reality –, looking everywhere but at Steve as your whole body burned, a floating object caught your eye behind Steve’s back. A dark prolonged object, neatly packed, carried away by the stream.

Your tent. The thing that had fallen into water and nearly knocked you off balance was your tent, slowly sinking lower and lower as it slowed down its path down the river.

Great. Really great.

You were fucked.

How did it even-

“I got it!” Bucky hollered, changing course, heading to retrieve what was supposed to be the roof over your head for the next three days.

He’d get it; you weren’t worried. It was fine.

And the tent would be fine too. It was in the waterproof case. It would--- it would be absolutely soaked, because it was sinking. The entirety of the tent had gone under water, including the protective layer that was meant to save you from rain should it come to it.

There was no cloud on the sky but you had a feeling there’d be water dripping on you all night anyway.

How could it have fallen off? You had secured it with the buckled straps to the bottom of your fairly new backpack, checking repeatedly – every time before you put the backpack on again – that it held.

Then again, maybe you hadn’t done that after the fiasco – and the lovely result of it – with your marinated clothes. So you might be cursed, but by your own fault, really-

A squeeze to your hips brought your attention back to Steve, making you realize you were still standing in the middle of the river, stalling.

“I’m sorry, moving on, moving on,” you babbled, only to have him still your movements, eyes scrutinizing your face.

“You okay?”

Funny you should ask.

“Are you?”

You reciprocated the scrutiny; eyes roaming his handsome features, you searched for any signs of discomfort – not from having to hold you, but from still soaking his legs in the cold water. All you found was a reassuring smile; and yet, you couldn’t but brush your thumb inconspicuously over Steve’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort, incidentally along the hem of his t-shirt. An emotion flashed in his irises, eyes darkening a fraction, the grip on your flesh turning almost bruising before he began to release it, taking one of your hands again and then the other. You licked your lips – and you’d swear Steve’s gaze flickered to your mouth at that – standing up straighter.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky dropping your tent on the bank of the river.

“Thank you, Bucky!”

“No problem, dollface. Get moving though, my old knees aren’t built for this cold anymore,” he said, causing you to glare at Steve accusingly.

He had lied.

Of course he had fucking lied.

And he had the audacity to grin when you looked at him with accusatory and genuinely worried eyes.

“Let’s get you to the other side, shall we?”

“I packed your favourite snack, but I just decided I’m gonna eat it alone,” you threatened your vengeance for him for not being honest.

Steve feigned hurt so well you might as well believe it; but the hold on your hands remained gentle and secure as he helped you continue the path. “That’s cold, Lee.”

The corners of your lips quirked up.

“I know it’s cold. Now was it so hard to admit it?” you questioned as you beckoned to the water – causing Bucky to chuckle and Steve to deadpan when he instantly realized your trickery.

“You should be around more often, dollface,” Bucky said, approaching you and taking up on Steve’s task.

Steve just grunted and made his way to help Daisy. You felt your face heat up further at Bucky’s remark, grateful no one else could hear the exchange.

…were you though?

“I’ll take your words for it… and Steve?” He glanced at you over his shoulder, clearly not really offended. “Thank you for catching me.”

His smile, no matter how small, said it all and felt like the softest blanket to wrap around you on a cold winter morning; I’ll always catch you.

Always.

Just as you had expected, once you all made it through the river, you reached the camp spot in no time; and just as you had expected, your tent was a lost cause. You could build it, hoping it would dry out overnight at least bit, but actually sleeping in it was out of question unless you wanted to wake up soaked up and sneezing.

In a brief moment of self-pity you granted yourself, you planted your butt on the ground, laying the drenched parts of your tent next to you, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it as you stared at the traitorous pieces of equipment, including the buckles that had been meant to hold the package to the backpack but had given out.  

While everyone busied themselves with unpacking their temporary shelters as well – Natasha with Bucky, Bobbi with Hunter, May, Daisy and Hopkinson each on their own in the lightest and therefore smallest tents possible, Bobbi took note of your state, smiling compassionately.

“Are you okay? The water really did a number on that thing, huh?”

You reciprocated her smile wryly, no less grateful for her care.

“Yeah… But you know what? I win. Sleeping outside? I can stargaze. I’ll be fine,” you said, shrugging and rising to your feet to get to work. You could build the tent to have it dry out at least and wash your clothes in the lake you had settled at. “I’m just… gonna sleep by the fire under the open skies, in… borrowed, non-marinated clothes and with no sleeping bag, because with my luck, it’s probably full of bugs or itching powder or something. It’s fine. God knows I slept in conditions a lot worse than that.”

And wasn’t that the truth. You had slept in much better conditions too, but that was beside the point. You tried to summon the memories of horrible nights spent in damp clothes, freezing, teeth clattering so hard the sound made it impossible to fall asleep; unbearable heat, loud noises, even just annoying persistent chatter. Sleeping under the open skies was practically a blessing in comparison. A dream.

And you did not want to remember nights that had been very different, because that would only make you miserable at your predicament.

“Yeah, not on my watch,” Steve called out lowly, placing another hook in the ground, using his foot to step on it and dig it deeper. “Not when the solution is obvious.”

Your heart skipping a beat at the obvious solution, you barely had time to breathe in to respond when someone else did – in an extremely irritated manner.

“Seriously?! What, you gonna lend her your tent too?” Hopkinson spat, rising from where he had been crouching by his tent. “Maybe even keep her warm through the-“

Steve lunged his direction so fast you didn’t even have time to be offended by the implication.

But Bucky, the supersoldier he was, was much faster; his metal arm stopped Steve in his tracks, palm pressing against Steve’s chest before he could make the almost-breaking-Hopkinson’s-arm a pleasant memory for the man.

Still, Hopkinson had enough wit to shut up and step back hastily, raising his hands defensively. His face turned white as a sheet of paper; good. He had some brain left then, it seemed. How he had survived for so long you had no idea.

Gulping – and shamelessly satisfied at the fear in Hopkinson’s eyes, because Jesus he did not just say that, even as you had thought about exactly the same – you turned your gaze back to Steve and Bucky.

And something in your core exploded hot, a tug so violent and visceral it was almost painful.

If Steve had looked at Hopkinson like he could break his arm all those weeks back when he had made his stupid comment, now he looked like he could break every single bone in his body, snap the guy in half and enjoy it. And he’d enjoy doing it for you. To defend you.

Steve’s smile was always a beautiful sight and so was the softness he could look at you with at times; but the rage in his face now, the fire in his eyes, on your behalf, were nothing short of breathtaking.

Avenging angel indeed.

He might not be carrying a flaming sword, nor had his shield on his arm, but that made him no less menacing, no less divine; and no less beautiful.

“Do we have a problem, Agent Hopkinson?” Bucky asked calmly, despite the clear effort with which he was holding Steve back still, even as Steve visibly didn’t move a muscle.

You were barely moving at all too; your chest was heaving, the rest of your body strung tight with effort not to let show just how affected you were by Steve’s near literal white-knighting.  

“No, sir,” Hopkinson saluted, nodding stiffly, before he scrambled to finish building his tent.

“Good.”

Few seconds of deafening silence was only interrupted by the scrape of shoes against ground as the camp slowly came back to life again. Bucky shot Steve a look before he let his metal arm down, watching Steve avert his still flaming gaze from Hopkinson with shoulders remaining squared; and so alluringly wide you just wanted to run your hands over them, just as breathless at the sensation as you were now-

“I mean, makes sense you’d share,” Daisy broke the silence, everyone visibly relaxing. “It looks like your tent is pretty big, eh?”

Your eyes went wide.

Loud cough erupted from Hunter’s direction as he spitted the water he had been drinking; Bobbi patted his shoulders, amusement clear on her face. Bucky’s face twisted in a questionable grimace; Natasha pursed her lips, seemingly one second from making a comment. May bit back a smirk; Hopkinson was only showing his back, but he clearly froze in his movements.

Steve just looked shocked – shocked enough to snap from the anger that had overtook him on your behalf.

You would think it would take Daisy a few seconds to realize how she had worded her statement, accidentally referring to a figurative ‘tent’ men grew in certain situations – but judging by her seemingly innocent smile and the sparkle in her eye, she knew exactly what she had implied. And she had done so on purpose and with delight.

She was right, however. Steve’s temporary dwelling was probably the biggest one at your site and it even included a vestibule, where all the equipment which was meant for everyone was to be stored. His tent had the most space for the reason he could put his backpack to the vestibule alone.

Steve cleared his throat, taking a few steps to you, a relaxed smile having found way back to his face.

“…are you comfortable with sharing a tent with me?”

You reciprocated his smile, shrugging, even as you had to work hard to swallow your amusement at Daisy’s comment. One that was very much on point.

Yes. You were very comfortable sharing a tent with him indeed. More than, actually, but not everyone needed to know that; and you could feel several knowing gazes on you as you answered as levelled as possibly.

“I mean… we have shared a room before for a mission. I’m fine… are you? Comfortable with that, that is?” you asked, perfectly polite, considerate and friendly, even as your heart was racing in your ribcage.

There was no reason for the racing heart though. Because this was okay for friends to do. Absolutely. If you having shared the room sometimes included sharing a bed, which had naturally resulted in cuddling, body heat searching body heat, no one needed to know – especially not Agent Asshole Hopkinson. What happened in a motel room stayed in a motel room. Always.

A cute crinkle appeared in Steve’s eye as he gave the answer you already knew.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Of course, it’s fine.”

More than, whispered his gaze, so you averted it and busied yourself with gathering the wet parts of your tent, clearing your throat.

“Good… that’s good. Thanks. I really appreciate it, Steve.”

“Any time, Lee.”

You could feel his gaze on you, the warmth of his smile like a soft blanket on your back. It was going to be a long, long night.

Part 2

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

I hope you enjoyed reading 🤭 if you did, please consider leaving feedback and reblogging💕

I hope July has been kind to you!

[jobean12-blog]

Falling for the Forbidden

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female!princess reader (Pedro Pascal Gladiator II)

Word Count: 1,574

Summary: Having to hide your love away is difficult and each day it becomes more so...especially when all eyes are on the General.

Author's Note: I swear I will stop...someday. He's too gorgeous and perfect and with the trailer today I nearly died. This is along the lines of my other two stories I've written for him, A Warrior's Heart and Forbidden. You do not need to read them with this one but they are all the same reader. Thank you all so much for enjoying with me! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 😍

PS If anyone has any ideas they want to throw my way, feel free. Thank you 😘 Also, I'm trying to do my research but if I make any historical mistakes, I apologize.

Warnings: there's always soft sweetness under it all, tension, semi-public sex (although at that time I don't think it mattered much haha) but they are sneaking around!

This gif below is NOT MINE it's from @a7estrellas and I've linked the post! Thank you for gifting us with such beautifulness!

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The streets of Rome are bustling with life. The market vendors’ loud voices ring out over all else and the smell of various wares fills your nostrils. Every time you walk by a stall the merchant shouts at you to buy something, shaking a fresh juicy fruit or something that catches the dying sun and sparkles like a diamond.

With a polite smile you decline and pull your hood higher up over your head, hoping to just slip through the crowd without notice.

Night dances along the horizon, casting long shadows onto the stone streets and filling the sky with pale pink and orange.

You pass by a fruit stand with baskets of sweet apples, red and shiny. Watching the vendor, you wait for a distraction and grab an apple, quickly stuffing it into the wide arm of your cloak.

Without a glance back you disappear into the darkness between the large stone pillars of a nearby building and press your back tightly to the wall. Your breathing stills and you wait.

Long minutes seem to pass in silence and just as you’re about to give up hope a large and strong hand closes around your wrist and yanks you away from the wall and down into the shadows of an alcove.

“Since when does the princess steal?”

His voice is smooth and deep, purring into your ear while he reaches inside your cloak to retrieve the apple.

You pluck it from his fingers and take a small bite, savoring the sweetness with a matching saccharine smile. A small trickle of juice slips from your mouth and down your chin. His dark eyes watch before he presses his lips to your skin and gently sucks the juice clean.

The apple drops from your hand and rolls further into the darkness, the sun nearly kissing the horizon and hiding you both away in the shadows.

His lips move to your ear and lightly graze the soft spot just below. You shudder at the contact, grabbing onto his biceps when his mouth continues and ghosts along the column of your neck.

“How many nights has it been?” he asks, running his hands under your toga and pressing his fingers between your legs, “since I last had you.”

Your eyes close and you sway into his embrace.

“Too many.”

Your low moan echoes in the emptiness of the hidden spot and he stops his movements.

“Far too many,” he whispers as he removes his hand and grabs your wrists between his large fingers.

He raises your hands above your head and leans down to capture your lips. You struggle weakly, needing to touch him, but he shakes his head and tightens his hold.

“We cannot do this here,” you gasp as he presses his hardness along your stomach.

His lips move down and across your collarbone and his free hand reaches down to slowly pull apart the fabric that covers your skin. He repeats the action until he reveals your bare breasts, hungrily licking his lips before he closes them around your nipple.

Your knees buckle slightly, and you moan out his name.

“Shhh princess,” he whispers against your skin.

“More Marcus. Please.”

He takes his time, teasing, licking, and sucking until your body is aching then he lifts you so you can wrap your legs around his waist.

Your hands immediately delve into his hair, roughly dragging his mouth down to yours as he presses your bodies together more firmly.

The sounds of a raucous and drunken mob grow louder, and you tense against him. You hold your breath and a long a long stretch of time passes before you meet his eyes.

“Marcus. We should not do this.”

You halfheartedly try to push him away, but he holds his ground.

“I cannot wait another moment,” he growls. “I cannot go another night without you.”

Your eyes hold his gaze, but you don’t answer.

“Please,” he murmurs.

Your fingers stroke his cheek, idly tracing the raised skin of a scar that lines his jaw.

“I can never seem to deny you.”

He lets one of your legs fall gently to the ground and his fingers ghost up your thigh. A low hiss escapes his mouth when he feels how wet you are.

“I do not think you ever want to my love,” he whispers into your neck.

With quick and quiet movements, he frees himself, hiking your leg higher around his waist before he pushes in deep.

Your simultaneous moans are lewd, and you hear the crowd growing closer. It makes him push into you harder.

He kisses you hard and fast then covers your mouth with his hand but keeps his eyes locked on yours as he draws himself all the way out. Your strangled sounds make him smile and he rewards you with a deep thrust.

You’re gasping and your fingers search for something to hold on to, every roll of his hips making your muffled moans louder.

His words are soft against your ear when he whispers, “do you feel how perfectly you fit around me? Nothing feels better than this.”

Your only answer is a nod of your head and when he moves harder and faster you silently beg for more.

“I want you to remember what you do to me. Tonight, when you’re alone in your chambers…and the next morning when you ache between your legs.”

His words have you teetering on the edge and now the intoxicated group is just on the other side of the wall. He lifts his hand from your mouth and covers it with his lips, swallowing your strained whimpers as your body tenses and tightens all over.

Your hands fall from his curls and grab his broad shoulders, holding tightly when his final thrusts stutter and slow. He spills his warmth inside you, and he opens his eyes, resting his forehead to yours.

The oblivious voices start to fade as they move away, and you catch your breath as the quiet blankets the night once again.

He reaches for your hand and lifts it between your bodies, delicately kissing your palm before turning it over and brushing his lips across your knuckles.

You inhale softly and whisper his name.

“I should like to see you reach the palace safely.”

Your expression softens even more, and you trace his lips with your fingertips.

“And I should like to have you in my bed every night.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, the gesture laced with pain, and carefully unwinds your leg from his waist and sets you down on unsteady feet.

The next day passes far too slowly, and your mind is constantly occupied by thoughts of last night. You’re jolted out of your reverie by a familiar voice.

“Princess,” General Acacius greets.

Turning, you catch a glimpse of him standing with a group of gladiators fresh from training. His chest is bare, and you follow the line of strong muscle to where a dark trail of hair disappears under his canvas loincloth.

When your eyes-finally- reach his face, your breath catches in your throat at the look in his eyes.

Then those eyes rake over every inch of you and even though you’re completely covered in your royal attire, you feel completely naked. His expression is as intense as his touch and you wonder, if he continues to stare in such a way, will your skin ignite?

You try to fix your face into something that camouflages that you’re mentally cataloging the way his chest heaves with his quickened breaths, the way his hands fist at his sides and cause the muscles in his forearms to flex and strain, and the way his neck and shoulders are tense as beads of sweat drip down his glistening skin.  

His tongue darts out to trace his lips and he quietly dismisses the others with a growled command. They walk off silently but not before throwing their covetous eyes your way.

The General draws his sword.

“I would not have you look at the princess in such a way…” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

They turn their eyes to him, narrowed and glaring before stomping away with quiet mutterings.

Once they’re out of sight he walks briskly down the hall, waiting in a shadowed recess until you follow.

He grabs you, spinning you out of sight until he has you caged against the cool stone wall. His breath is warm and heavy against your cheek.

“Marcus,” you gasp, fighting to control your own breathing. “Not here. And especially after that…what were you thinking?! It is too dangerous.”

His grip tightens and he bends slightly, kissing your lips softly.

“Then do not tempt me with a look like that again.”

Your hands reach for his shoulders, and you run your fingers across their broad width before tracing his chest and stomach.

“Then you should not tempt me with such…magnificence.”

His scoff is muffled against your skin, and he pulls away to take your face in his hands, softly brushing his thumb across your lips.

“Magnificence…my princess, there is nothing in this world to rival your beauty. You are…stunning.”

His name falls from your parted lips in a whisper, and he kisses you softly, gliding his nose along your cheek until he meets the soft shell of your ear.

“Have you thought of last night?”

You tilt your face and find his lips again. “With every step I take.”

@hiddles-rose @tripletstephaniescp @blackwidownat2814 @lizette50

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐂.𝐉𝐇 ♡

Day Twenty-Five - Angel/Worshiping

【Synopsis】 : His job was to be an observer. Do not under any circumstances interact or intervene with human lives. Oh, how he royally fucked that up.

『Word count』 : 4.50k

-> Genre: Smut. Spn Au. Fluff. Angst-ish. Romance.

Pairing: Angel!Jongho x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : We stan a service dom. Making out. Mention of toxic religion and dark past. Swearing. Play fighting? Lots of sweet talking and pet names. Jongho loses it. Multiple orgasms. Fingering. Bondage with the use of angelic power. Creampie. See now… this was supposed to be protected sex. But uh… Whoops.

Note: This is inspired by the show supernatural. I dearly love that show, and i love Castiel, so i wanted to give this a hunter x angel vibe (even included Jongho wearing a trench coat cause i personally need that, hehe) anyways enjoy my loves. Also, more credits to my baby yaya for brainstorming and chatting with me about these plots and concepts. I love youu. @skteezcursed ♡

Networks: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

In the realm of ethereal lights and whispering winds, Jongho, a young angel, received his first assignment from the Council of Celestial Beings. His task was to descend to Earth, to wander among the humans, unnoticed, learning their ways without ever intervening. Simple enough he thought, observing these creatures fascinated him the moment he was awoken. So studying was a secret passion of his. Of course the Celest didn't need knowing of his passions. His feelings. Angel weren't allowed such luxuries. As he readied for his departure, he couldn’t shake the sadness that slowly came to him. He had heard tales of their joys and sorrows, yet he was forbidden from mingling, a bystander in a world so vibrant and chaotic. It left a feeling deep inside him that he didn't have a word to describe It.

Upon his descent, Jongho found himself in a quaint off shore town, alive with the chatter and bustle of everyday human activities. He found an instant awe in every passerby as he felt his new solid body get used to the mucked air of humanity. It wasn't all sunshines and rainbows, Jongho was quick to find. But there was something so raw and intriguing about faults and flaws that left him wanting to know more. Angels are perfect in every way. Raised to be emotionless and trained to be warriors. But humans. They drew their own path. Each and every one, different and interweaving with another.

They were perfect in their own imperfect ways.

It was during one of his solitary wanderings through the local park on his third day that he first saw his ultimate study, a young woman with an aura unlike nothing he has ever seen. You. The eventual love of his life. He still found it entertaining telling the story of how you two met to others. It was one he was proud of, granted slightly embarrassed but proud nonetheless.

You were the embodiment of joy in Jonghos eyes when he first laid eyes on you. Laughing amongst friends, your smile bright enough to illuminate the drab grey skies or any dark day. Yet, there was something else that drew Jongho in—an underlying energy that contradicted your outward happiness. Was it despair that he felt? Longing or unfulfillment? Despite the sparkle in your eyes, your aura shimmered a muted blue, heavy with isolation and unspoken sorrow.

At first, he remained hidden, watching from the safety of the shadows. Days turned to weeks, and Jongho grew to adore your way of life, your fierce independence, and the way you chased dreams like they were fireflies. As he watched something inside him began to stir—a longing that felt both exhilarating and dangerous. Rules dictated that angels should remain distant, mere observers of mortal life, yet Jongho found himself captivated, unable to tear himself away.

but he couldn't help him as he listened to your laughter, watched your interactions with others, and noted how you seemed to wear your joy as a mask making sure everyone around you thought everything was perfect. The dissonance captivated him as he began to seek ways to understand why your essence felt so at odds with your expression. It wasn’t long before you began to notice him. At first, it was a fleeting shadow in your periphery and a strangle feeling of being watched. But soon enough, you turned, eyes narrowing on the mysterious presence that lingered whenever you wandered through the quiet parts of town. And one starry night, under a full winter moon, you finally got to confront the mysterious figure.

“Who is there?” You demanded into the darkness your breath shook out like smoke, “Show yourself.” Your voice was a mixture of curiosity and alarm, as you reached for some snow that sat on top of the brick wall next to you. You didn't really know what a snowball would accomplish but at least you were armed… Kind of. “Why have you been following me!!”

Jongho hesitated, heart pounding in his chest like a drum. Lying was not an option, he knew that. But he didn't want to scare you away. “I… I’m Jongho,” he stammered, stepping from the cloak of darkness. his glowing crystal blue eyes making your breath hitch as his cream-coloured trench coat covered his hunched figure. his crooked smile and hands up in defeat caused you to feel a slight twinge of relief, knowing it wasn't someone bad but you didn't drop the snow still holding it firmly in a throwing position.”I’m sorry. It was not my intention to scare you.”

You went to speak, but what caused your eyes widened in surprise. Disbelief flitting across your face was the way his eye danced in the dimly lit street lamp above him with each step he took. They shifted from blue to a pale grey to a purple and then back to blue like they could just stick to one colour. You took a step back, putting your other hand up with a ‘stop’ expression with a shake of your snowball slightly as if it's a threat. Jongho seemed to notice your caution quickly stopping in his tracks with a slight raise in his brow. “W-what are you…” You knew he couldn't be human. Creatures weren't abnormal in your life, but seeing one in front of you was a different story.

“I'm a…” He felt his words get caught in his throat. He wasn't allowed to reveal himself. That was rule two. Rule one was to never get caught so he's already fucked that one up.

“Well.” you felt the silence deafening. Was he a demon coming to steal your soul? Was he a vampire looking for a meal? Worse was he a wolf wanting to forcibly claim you… Your anxiety began to spike at his slow response. “Who are you!?” you said more firmly.

“I..” He took a step forward without thinking, making you freeze. “Don't move!” He put his hands up higher, clicking his tongue a little. Are humans always this cautious? “Can you lower your…weapon.. Please.” he pointed to the snowball.

“Tell me what you are first.”

“I'll tell you. Just put the snow down.” He rolled his eyes. “It'll have no effect on me.” He said calmly.

“Oh really?” You took his innocent words as a threat throwing the snow at him. It hit him square in the chest. Jongho looked down at the wet patch now on his trench coat and suit.

“Yes, really.” His voice seemed to have grown deeper as he looked at you with a deadpan expression. “Now that you are done. I—”

You threw another snowball at him.

“What was that for?” Jongho wiped the soft white snow off his face this time looking at you unamusingly. But you, on the other hand, had a small crooked smile as your chest heaved lightly in delight. “For scaring me.”

Jongho inhaled deeply, staring at you bluntly with a tilted head. He Knew what you did was technically fair. But he also knows if he opens his mouth you'd just throw another piece of snow at him. He could see it in your aura as it shifted from the sombre blue to a pale calming green. For the first time since he was observing you, your emotions matched your aura.

So in an instant he chuckled, his eyes glowing bright white as his ethereal wings unfurled behind him as if appearing out of thin air, each feather glimmering like freshly fallen snow in the moonlight. You gasped, eyes wide in awe as you witnessed the angelic magic. The wings stretched out majestically, radiating a soft glow that illuminated her face.

After the initial shock wore off, a slow smile spread across your face... “oh okay, you're an angel..” you said, you voice a gentle whisper with a slight chuckle in it. “Still doesn't answer why you're following me.”

“I'm an observer” he admitted, folding his wings back into a softer form, their brightness dimming as he hid them from your gaze. He shook his shoulders a final time letting them fall out into the cosmos as if they were never there to begin with. “I’m not supposed to interact with humans. I’m here to watch, not to engage.”

“Hmm…” That night was still etched in Jongho's mind. He often spent his night dreaming of it. He would remember the way you would walk with him after you finally put the snowballs down. Asking about his kind while you told him about you being a descendant from hunters, hence why you knew he was a creature of sorts.

He took you home that night with a smile and a shining green aura. He couldn't explain it back then but he came to realise you have both changed each other for the better and worse. You found he was missing in your life while he found his whole meaning and morals to be no longer black and white but a swirling mixtures of bright colours and shades.

Every moment of joy you gave him was shadowed by an encroaching darkness—his guilt weighed heavily on his heart. Heaven was meant to keep him untouched, a guardian observing life from afar. And yet, here he was, choosing to break the sacred rules for a connection he had never thought possible.

And he regretted nothing.

You filled his days with light. Helping him uncover the joys of human existence—the taste of fresh fruit, the thrill of a summer storm or the calmness of spring breeze and the beauty of quiet sunsets. Each moment spent with you made him yearn for more—a desire to embrace earth and all its wonders, bad or good… To mingle not just as a watcher, but as a participant.

“What you thinking about, angel?” Your voice rang through his thoughts. Your head nuzzled against his large back as you gave the large man a back hug, feeling his defined shoulder muscles against your plump cheeks.

“Hmm.. oh, just us.” He said calming looking back down to the drink he was pouring, closing the lid to the liquor bottle. “how we met.”

You could hear the sombre beat of his golden angelic heart in your ear pressed firmly against his back. He had prepared a grand dinner earlier in the evening. A feast fit for a celestial being. The night was rich with aroma and laughter, and as the candles flickered against the walls, the air thickened with anticipation and longing. He wanted to make the night perfect. To show how much he loved and cared for you. Plus he wanted to show off his new cooking skills.

“We were both so different back then…” You whispered, neither of you moving. “I was running and you were…”

“Following corrupted orders blindly.” He downed the dark amber liquid in his glass, turning around while holding your arms so you would be hugging his front now. His hand gently came up to pat your head, giving you a gummy smile, his eyes lazy and content. “I still don't regret anything. You know that dont you Honey?”

“I know…” You whispered, sitting up slightly to look at his face. Your hand cupped his cheek feeling the warmth of his skin against your own. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, taking every slight touch you gifted him. “I just... You left so much behind. It wasn't easy.”

He grabbed your hands quickly, making you jump lightly. Bringing them up to his mouth he kissed every knuckle. “I left pain behind. I left corruption and misguided order. Yes it wasn't easy leaving the only thing I knew of. But if I hadn't left. I would have never been able to call you mine.” Heart racing, Jongho leaned closer, his instincts taking the lead as passion surged within him, inviting him to surrender to the depths of their connection. “I would have never discovered the wonders of this world.”

He placed a sweet short kiss on your lips, “I would've never found a new, even better thing to worship.” You didn't miss the way his smirk grew as the kiss grew more fervent, igniting a flame inside him that urged him to give himself completely to you. To honour and worship the beauty and vulnerability he now cherished. With each caress, he learned how to dissolve the hesitating lines between an angel's restraint and a lover's fervour. He was more than ready to succumb to the ways of humanity, to embrace his newfound cravings, even before he met you. He willingly danced down the spiral towards being a fallen angel, all for human life—all for you.

“J-Jong…” You whimpered against his lips, never being able to get used to the power the drips from him. His hands let go of your own, finding a new place on your hips. He pushed you backwards until your ass tapped the island bench and without warning he lifted you up onto it, letting your exposed thighs feel the sharp twinges of the ice cold marble. Tonight was almost identical to the night you met, snow falling harshly with crisp air, leaving everything to be blanketed in a freezing touch. “P-please.”

Your whimpers were completely swallowed by Jongho as he moved with determination. Never has he initiated sex before nor has it ever been rough. The first time you slept with him was downright awkward to say the least. You both acted like teenagers that had no idea what they were doing but you soon got Jongho to understand the ways around the human body, especially the female anatomy. But in this moment he had all the control, sending your head into a tailspin. His grunts caused a shiver down your spine as he cage you on the table. His hips were snug against yours, letting you feel his growing hard on with each grind of his pelvis. His left hand snaked up to hold the back of your neck while the right slowly made its way down to your panty covered core. You had forgone pants as you were just lazing about and right now you were shouting thank you at your past self for it.

“So beautiful…” he murmured, finally breaking free from your mouth, giving you space to breathe. His lips, however, were quick to latch onto your neck, suckling bright marks on your soft skin. “Do you like this baby? Does this feel nice.”

“Y-yes.” You whimpered, bucking your hips, urging him to continue further. He understood as if he could hear your thoughts, quickly tugging your panties off until they were discarded somewhere on the floor. His fingers quickly found your wet folds spreading them so his thumb could push firmly on your clit. You let out a loud gasp, your head tilting back against the marble, letting Jongho continue his assault on your flesh. “Angel…please, more.”

He growled at the ironic pet name you have gifted Him. The word made him feel some unexplainable way. In the past the name meant soldier, a warrior that was devoted to the higher purpose but now it meant he was yours. That he belonged to you and was yours to do as you wished. He trailed his lips down your covered chest making you giggle as he tried to kiss through the soft cotton. “What are you doing, my love?”

“Hmm, loving you.” He merely replied, going back to trailing his kisses down until he got to your soaking cunt, it glistening with slick from his thumb gently rubbing your sensitive bud for the last couple of minutes. He flattened his tongue on your core, licking up a strip Feeling the way your whole body shivers and bucks in response. He continued, using his free hand that was holding onto The marble countertop to slide down and sink two fingers inside of your clenching pussy. You sighed feeling the contemptment of having something inside you but it was when his tongue flicked your clit before he sucked in sharply that your hands flew to his hair choking on a scream as he fucked you in a quickened pace.

“Fuck fuck fuck, f-faster. Please.” With a soft chuckle, Jongho quickly granted your wish. He thrusted his fingers faster while his tongue lapped up your wet folds while also teasing your bud.

"You taste so good," He murmured against you, his free hand gripping your thigh as he held you in place.. "I love eating your pussy, Honey." His words sent a shockwave of desire through you. Never have you heard Jongho whisper such filthy confessions. He was always so shy to mention what he found attractive or enjoyable. Always settling for simple and whatever you wished over his own desires. You couldn’t help but cry out, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Oh fuck, Jongho... don't stop."

Jongho moaned in response, the vibration of his groan sending pleasure spiralling through you. He sucked and licked, his fingers now quickening their pace just right, scissoring, and curling to find that magic spot. You were reduced to a quivering mess, your hips bucking off the countertop as he skillfully pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me, baby," he whispered, his fingers pumping inside you harshly. "Let go."

You silently cried out, your whole body shaking as you tumbled over the precipice. White-hot pleasure engulfed you as your juices flowed out, riding out your intense orgasm. Jongho lapped at you eagerly, drinking up your slick as he gentled his fingers, prolonging your pleasure.

You slowly opened her eyes, your chest still heaving as you smiled down at Jongho with a light giggle.. He looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with love and desire. "I love you so much." he said, his voice thick with need. "I want to make you feel good. I need to make you feel good."

Your heart melted at his words. "I love you too," you whispered, stroking his hair as his wet cheek nuzzled against your hand. Your smile only grew as he came up slowly to seal his lips against your own letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hard body was pressed against your as he caged you, his fingers lacing with yours so he could give your hand a tight squeeze. Your tongue danced with his completely missing the way his free hand moves back to your empty pussy.

It wasn't until you gasped against him as he entered you even deeper with two fingers, that you felt yourself shiver in completely ecstasy.

He began to move again, freeing his laced fingers to move down to your ass, spreading your cheeks while he thrusted slowly and deeply, using his hips to grind into you.

Your moans were swallowed by Jongho, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure built within you again. The kiss grew deeper, more feverish as your tongues duelled while your passion escalated.

Breaking the kiss, Jongho nibbled on your ear, his teeth tugging at the lobe. “My perfect little human. My beloved…” He growled, “My goddess.”

You could tears prick in the corners of your eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and devotion. Your angel, calling you the one thing he treasured most. To think anyone let alone a celestial being, would think so highly of you made your heart soare. Reaching down between your bodies, you grasped his hard length through his pants making him let out a low grunt. You undid his belt and zipper, reaching inside to free his throbbing cock. It pulsed in your hand, slicked with pre-cum, and as you stroked him gently, he continued to move within you.

"Condom... need one..." Jongho panted against your swollen lips, his hips snapping forward as he filled her over and over with his fingers, threatening to slip the tip of his cock inside..

You bit your lip, knowing exactly what to do. "Go, I'll wait here for you."

With a final, deep thrust, Jongho pulled out, his eyes burning with desire. "Don't move," he ordered his hair dishevelled, face red and chest heaving. He kicked off his jeans that had fallen off his thick thighs, discarded them alongside your panties. Your eyes never left his as he tugged his shirt off before turning to sprinting down the hall, his bare ass on display as he went to retrieve protection from the bedroom. You couldn't help giggled, your body still buzzing with pleasure as you finally gave yourself a moment to relax on top of the kitchen counter. You watched his retreating form, admiring the defined muscles of his back and the powerful flex of his ass as he ran. Your eyes travelled down to his strong, bare legs, and you licked your lips, a naughty idea forming in your mind.

Jongho soon returned, the box condoms in hand. But when he turned the corner, he stopped short, his eyes widening at the sight before him. There was his beautiful baby, bent over the dining table, completely naked, displaying your delectable ass to him.

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, a sultry smile on your face. "What ya waiting for angel," You purred, wiggling her bare ass invitingly.

Jongho's eyes darkened, and he quickly crossed the room, his steps purposeful and filled with determination. He gripped yout hips, pulling you toward him. His hand rubbed the globs of your ass giving the Soft skin a slight slap. He didn't know what came over him but it was like a fearl creature has crept through his very being. “Look at you.”

His growl was animalistic, something you've never heard before. The way he push air through His nose with a low grunt sent your mind straight into a fog. Jongho thought all he powers were gone when he left heaven. But yet, he could feel the tingle of power trickle down his spine, the energy surging through the palms of his hands. This was a different kind of power though and with a blink of an eye, he swiped his hand in the air, black smoke coming out like tendrils dancing Around your body until they found your wrist yanking them behind your back before bounding you tightly. Your face was squshed against the countertop as you gasp out with a startled. “J-Jongho?”

“Don't. Fucking. Move.” He punctuated every word, sweat already coating his brow. His whole body was shaking, as if something was invading all of his senses. You've never heard him swear before let alone say the word fuck. Even trying to get him to say shut up was hard. But yet here he was, and oh, Did it make the situation feel ten times more filthy. Completely forgetting about the condoms that were place a hand reach away, he lined the tip of his angry cock up with your wet entrance. And with one smooth thrust, he sank into your aching cunt, his cock sheathed snuggly.

You cried out, your eyes snaping Shut as your hips bucked. You've never felt him fuck you raw before as he always said he wanted to respect you and treat you right. The excitement of him coming inside you suddenly clouded your judgement and you started to beg for more. Jongho gripped your wiggling hips tightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he began to move, fucking you slowly and passionately, his eyes fixed on the way their bodies joined. The was his cock disappears deep inside you while slowly being coating in your juices.

"You feel so damn good," he growled, his eyes fluttering closed as he relished the tight heat surrounding him.

You drooled into the table, your fingers tangling in the shadows the bound at your wrists as he felt him stretch you, taking him time to enjoy every sensation of your cunt. “H-hard, Angel.” You begged, wanting more. "Please.

At your words, Jongho quickened his pace, his hips snapping forward as he gave you what you craved. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, along with mingled moans and groans. Your breasts pressed firmly into the tabletop made your nipples tingling as Jongho pounded into you harder from behind. His hand found place on your ass cheek, gifting you a open palmed smack making you sob while your walls clench arounf his thick cock, your body spiralling towards another climax. Jongho felt you tightening around him, and his own control snapped, crossing his arms, he gripped your hips drilling his cock into you at an inhuman pace.

"Cum for me again," he ordered, his voice harsh almost dark. "Cum on my fucking cock like a good baby."

His words were all it took to push you over the edge. Tears staining your face and table, you body shook as pleasure blitzed through you. Jongho groaned, his own release imminent as he felt you clutching at him, milking his cock. another Surge of power trickled down his spine cause a low monstrous grumble to leave his chest. And with few more powerful thrusts, he followed you over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him as he filled your tight hole with his seed. Panting, Jongho pulled out, his legs trembling as he reached for your hand. The shadows as snaked away letting you move from the uncomfortable position. But it was when you looked over your shoulders that all the air had seemingly left your lungs.

“J-Jongho…” There he Was your lover with beautiful angelic wings. But what caught Your attention was they were no longer the snow piercing white like your remember. No, they were a pitch inky black. A shade you only see when staring At a night sky with no stars. He chest was heaving he finally Opened his eyes To gaze upon you but his creamy chocolate brown were replaced with deep crimsons. while his skin was litter with greyish black veins. “Holy shit…”

All your words were stuck on your tongue. he was not an angel anymore. That you were sure of but Something darker had crept its way inside and you could tell if it worried or excited you. But Jongho was not worried, in fact, he had a feeling this was bound to happen to him. He had heard of angels that fall become demonic rather than just a powerless human. But he didnt think it would feel so freeing. It was like Jongho finally understood the meaning of true connection and the cost that came with it. With you by his side, the allure of mortal desires became a promise, carrying him forward into the beautiful unknown. And together, he would rewrite all the rules of their worlds, one climax at a time.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Remina.

Yan Blade x GN (Mara-Struck) (Stellaron Hunter) Reader.

Synopsis: You know Yingxing, but you know Blade more and more with each passing day.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, descriptions of violence (not against the reader), mentions of Blade/the reader's want to die, and descriptions of the reader’s want for violence.

Word Count: 1k.

@knockout2483 here you go!! <33333

*~*~*~*

SELF-DESTRUCT FUNCTION UNAUTHORIZED.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

PROCEEDING WILL CAUSE 24.25 MILLION UHLUHTC SPIDER SPAWN TO SPREAD FROM SECTOR SEVEN TO SECTORS ONE THROUGH ELEVEN, BUT NOT SECTORS ZERO, TWELVE, AND THIRTEEN.

TO PROCEED, PLEASE CLICK THESE KEYS IN THE FOLLOWING ORDER: FIVE, TWO, SIX-

*~*~*~*

Blade knows you went too far with this.

You know too – at least he thinks so; your mara-struck state has always been harder for Kafka to subdue.

“What a nuisance.” You spit out as you drag your sword back and forth across the thing blocking you from destroying the tower’s controller beyond repair. Blade’s hand. His palm is bright red and makes gut-wrenching noises yet he does not move or make a sound. “You never let me do things my way.”

“Please don’t speak to me like that.” He responds as his uninjured hand pulls layer after layer of the bandages that prevent his blood from pouring all across the concrete floor. “You don’t want to do this. At least to them. To us, even.”

You have now lost a majority of your once silver weapon – Blade’s hand regenerated just enough for you to be rendered powerless. Or at the very least powerless compared to him and the other Stellaron Hunters.

*~*~*~*

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

*~*~*~*

“The hell are you talking about, Yingxing?”

“Do you really want to watch this world burn again?” You let go of your handle, wincing like you just touched something straight out of a forge. Hell maybe – that would be more entertaining right now rather than being sat down and lectured again by someone who more or less shares the same ailments as you. A craving for bloodshed. A need for chaos to be unleashed upon an undeservedly orderly land. A body that will never die no matter how much the soul has eroded.

A desperate want to die.

All of them are uncontrollable though you are undecided about the last – self-inflicted death can be perceived as a sin, not a sacrifice for the greater good, in most of the planets you have been an unwelcome guest to.

Kraftluv II. A planet the perfect distance away from both Jarilo-VI and the Xianzhou Luofu – wedged in between them in exactly equal amounts according to countless mathematical studies.

You’re forbidden to enter the latter of the two per Kafka’s orders. Firefly told you that if you do all your assignments before the next meeting – the ‘assignments’ in question being gathering gifts for Silver Wolf because you accidentally broke one of her game consoles – you could be allowed to go fishing with her.

Firefly doesn’t know how to fish. Even if she did, you would much rather use your teeth instead of some lousy string attached to a carved tree branch.

*~*~*~*

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

*~*~*~*

“What I’m saying is,” Blade puts his arm to his side. Blood still rolls down from the edge of your sword and this time makes a small puddle just in front of his dirty shoes. “You’re supposed to be on good behavior. Even if you and I don’t get scolded, you’ll come to regret it after you return from lunacy. Me too.”

You don’t look at him, instead opting to stand up on your toes to get a better look at the machine you want to tear to pieces so badly.

Blade in turn moves his head to a diagonal so he can at least try to get you to focus on him. You murmur more curses under your breath than usual. He sighs but doesn’t attempt to correct your language this time. In the past, Kafka would giggle and pat your head as she dodged you using your nails to scratch her numerous times. Silver Wolf wouldn’t bat an eye because her connection to her games is more important than anything going on around her or beyond the stars she could see. Firefly would have her mouth wide open in shock at the sheer complexity of the Xianzhou Luofu’s lexicon when it comes to swearing. 

“Do you want to hurt all these people again? It hasn’t even been a year since you unleashed Silver Wolf’s virus onto Sector Eight. Without her permission, may I add.” In a smooth motion, Blade pulls your weapon out from his body – in a mere blink of an eye, a scar replaces the rather large crevice. The bandages are applied once again. He didn’t have to peel them off to begin with but he wanted you to see another example of what he is supposed to do to keep you in line.

*~*~*~*

TO PROCEED, PLEASE CLICK THESE KEYS IN THE FOLLOWING ORDER: FIVE, TWO, SIX, FOUR, SIX, ONE, THREE, FIVE, EIGHT, NINE, ZERO, ZERO, SIX. 

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

*~*~*~*

“Alright.” You answer after a while. He still keeps your blade above his head to prevent you from doing anything brash. “I’ll cancel it.” 

The light in your eyes starts to fade back into normalcy. The moon rises above the tower – a merciful gift to reward your teammate for putting up with your uncontrollable behavior. Blade makes a note to bring multiple blindfolds next time for when you two are in similarly sunny worlds.

“Can we go get dessert though?”

For once, Blade chuckles at the awkward timing. You always have a way to cheer him up somehow, not that you ever notice it.

“Sure,” He answers. “On me this time?”

“No… I’ll pay.”

“As you wish.”