#''then jesus comes to me again // and grinning lifts his shirt // i trace the scars on his chest // that his virgin birth // had led him

[legobatjoker]

im not very well religiously educated at all but im starting to understand the girlies who are like oh judas . my blorbo from christianity

[bapple117]

Chapter 6 of Bluest Monday is now up!

A Radiostatic fic set in the 80s ~ AO3 Link! 18+

Here's a snippet!

The heat is overbearing; it seeps into their skin, making it prickle and sting. Alastor is grouchy with it, resenting the fact he has to acknowledge bodily sensations such as sweating. It is the first time either of them has cursed their damnation.

“This infernal heat,” Alastor groans. “I can’t take much more of it.”

Vox murmurs an agreement without looking up; his screen is off, but he is sentient. Conserving energy. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Vox says, voice low and sleepy.

“Well I’m not going to sit here nude as a babe, like you,” Alastor says, affronted. “I at least still have some decorum.”

Vox laughs. 

“You’re making it worse for yourself for no reason,” he says. “Just take your fuckin’ sweater off, at least.”

Alastor huffs; he relents. 

“Fine,” he says, lifting his sweater off in a rush. 

Alastor rolls his shirt sleeves up; he does feel a little better. Vox’s head is ringing. The TV Demon feels ill-equipped to deal with any kind of raised temperature; his mind feels sludgy and buzzes with static. He moans a little with the displeasure of feeling so depleted. The Radio Demon eyes his partner then; he slips from the sofa to join him on the floor. Alastor notices, as he always does, the smattering of faint scars on Vox’s blue skin. 

“I remember you getting that one,” Alastor muses idly. 

“What?” Vox mutters, screen still off.

“That one,” Alastor says, poking at a scar on Vox’s ribcage. “This scar.”

Vox startles; his screen is on immediately. 

“Jesus, Al,” he says. “Don’t do that!”

But Vox is laughing, then, too; Alastor grins. 

“I don’t,” Vox says. “Remember, I mean.”

“That’s unusual, for you,” Alastor says, eyebrows raised. “Hmm.”

Vox lies back again, sighing with a mixture of heat-exhaustion and contentedness. His screen powers down with a wooomvvphff. 

“Tell me,” he says. 

Alastor smiles. 

“It was 1958. Early days,” Alastor muses. “We’d only known each other, what? Three years at that point?”

“Mmm,” Vox murmurs; he flaps over a hand to Alastor lazily. 

Alastor takes his partner’s hand in his own pair. He starts to fiddle with Vox’s claws; a regular bit of comforting casual contact between them now. 

“You got yourself into some scrap at the that bar we used to go to all the time. Do you remember the name?” Alastor says. 

Vox thinks; his head is so thick with hot frazzled wires and jagged signals that his memory fails him.

“No,” he mumbles. 

“No matter,” Alastor says. “It’s not the point. Anyway, some loan shark pulled a knife on you. Stabbed you, right here.”

Alastor fingers the scar again, gently tracing it. It’s slightly raised on Vox’s skin. The TV Demon knew the touch was coming this time - he doesn’t flinch. 

“I took you back to my apartment for the first time,” Alastor muses, smiling. “You were so excited.”

Vox laughs. 

“Don’t tease me, Al,” he says. “I was not.”

“You were!” Alastor laughs. “You were gripping your side, bleeding out, looking around my apartment like it was Wonderland or something. You kept thanking me for having you over, while you got blood over everything.”

Vox laughs again; his screen comes back on. He grins at Alastor, side eyeing him. 

“I was a bit starstruck,” he admits bashfully. “You had a much nicer place than mine. At the time.”

“Mmm,” Alastor agrees. “And then I stitched you up. You were very brave about it.”

Vox rolls his eyes. 

“So very brave,” Alastor teases. “My bravest little receiver.” 

Vox snatches his hand away; Alastor paws at him for it back. Vox concedes with a pleased sigh. 

“It’s too fucking hot,” Vox says, pointlessly. “I feel like shit.”

The sound of traffic thrums from outside, like white noise, loud and full of friction. Living in the inner city makes the heat feel so much worse; all of that extra warmth generated from cars and tarmac and buildings, densely packed together. Congested. Vehicles beep loudly; traffic is bad. The sound gives Vox an idea - he sits up suddenly, making Alastor jump. The Radio Demon knows his partner’s expression all too well; Vox has found some glimmer of inspiration. Alastor steels himself for it. 

“Why don’t we get out of here?” Vox says. “Somewhere better than this.”

“Where is better than this?” Alastor says. “We’re together.”

Vox huffs in amusement. 

“No, Al,” he says. “I mean like go out. Out in the open, cool off a bit. Feel the breeze, and stuff.”

Alastor considers this. He would like to stop sweating, if possible. The Radio Demon feels a little too corporeal; like a hot sack of meat, sticky and heavy. Alastor prefers to feel like a presence, rather than a person; this heat makes him feel all too of the flesh. 

“Alright,” he nods, and Vox is aglow with delight. “Where?”

“We could go for a drive?” Vox says. “See where the road takes us.”

Anything is better than sitting and suffering; Alastor nods again.

“I’ll get my keys,” Vox says, standing and looking around. “And a shirt, I guess.”

Alastor smirks. 

“Keep that show just for me,” he says, deliberate in his demure. 

Vox almost trips on his way to the bedroom. Alastor is pleased.

[allthatdivides]

stream Judas by the reverent marigold or fucking else

[satanfemme]

when the reverent marigold said, "Then Jesus comes to me again and grinning lifts his shirt / I trace the scars upon his chest, that his virgin birth / Had led him to, he was in a bind but he embraced the sacred / God knew his face and held it but it still didn't save him / And I see far horizons where the lambs lie with the lions / But there are poppies growing over where my friends are lying / And Paul had an old name but we never use it / You may call me traitor but my lover calls me Judas" !!!!!!!!!!

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝔹𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕒𝕜𝕖

_________________________

𝔹𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕪 𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

(ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥) ANON: Hii <3 I hope it’s okay to send in another Buck imagine. Maybe where you’re a technician and you get sent to Wakanda to help Shuri with his new arm. During the time there you get really close to Buck and he starts opening up to you and recovers really fast. One night he sees you then sitting at the lake where his cabin is, watching the stars, so he joins you and you end up sharing a meaningful kiss and even more 😉The next morning Shuri looks out for you and sees you coming out of his cabin with a grin? :)

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: Smuttt!!! 18+, fluff ish (like they having feels for each other bleh lol), insecure!Bucky, Shepard Armless Jesus Bucky, I’m pretty sure that’s it

𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: i love this lmaoooo this is so funny!! Thanks for the request and your patience!! Enjoy :)

__________________________

You sat on the dock looking up to see the beautiful stars that sparkled in the sky. You were in Wakanda and have been since Bucky was taken after the Accords. You knew a lot about working with his previous vibranium arm and Shuri asked you to stay while Bucky went into the ice so she could modify and make his new arm even better. 

Now Bucky was out of the ice shepherding goats in the village. He came to the lab everyday for his arm and for the words that haunted him every day for years to finally be erased from his mind. Everyday you and Bucky talked and he was really opening up to you.

He told you stories about the 40s and his childhood being friends with Steve. It was nice and you looked forward to getting to talk to him and spend time together everyday. Sometimes just like right now, you and Bucky spend time talking out on the dock until Shuri comes looking for you and him calling you back to the lab. 

So it didn’t come as a shock when Bucky needed some fresh air after not being able to sleep and saw you at the dock looking at the stars. He padded softly on the warm grassy field until he came up to you on the small wooden dock and sat beside you.

“Stars always never ceased to amaze me,” you whispered, keeping your eyes up to the sky.

“They’re beautiful,” he wasn’t looking at the stars. 

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, turning to him; he shook his head.

“You?” 

“Same.” 

There was silence and you slowly leaned closer to Bucky before resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Really proud of you know,” you broke the silence.

“Why’s that?”

 “You're opening up more; you're getting better.”

 “Thanks to you,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

 “Me?”

 “Yeah.”

Another moment of silence happened again, both of you frightened that if you spoke you’d scare the other away. You could feel him so close to you. It wasn’t a surprise that you fell for the guy. Especially when there was a period in time where he only spoke to you after the ice. 

He really opened up to you and felt like there was a connection maybe? Or maybe you were just being silly.

“Can I kiss you?” Bucky spoke.

Or maybe not. 

You lunged forward, lips pressing firmly to his, arms wrapping around his neck eagerly and he smiled into the kiss wrapping his arm around you as well. He leaned forward gently and you moved your arms back slowly placing your back on the wooden floor. His lips traced your neck and you sighed at the feeling of his soft velvety lips against your skin.

“Buck,” you breathed out.

“Not here. Not outside,” you said.

“Why not, baby?” he kept kissing you making it hard to resist.

“Bucky, no,” you giggled.

He didn’t reply but instead lifted you making you squeal and laugh. He practically sprint across the grass to his small cabin; your legs wrapped around his waist and you were holding on to him for dear life laughing and giggling with him.

Bucky pushed the door open with his foot and placed you delicately on to his bed. You stayed on your knees in front of him and helped him with his shirt. 

“Wait,” Bucky said suddenly. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m going a little fast. I shouldn’t have done that without asking first. God what was I think-”

“It’s not you. God it’s definitely not you. You're perfect. It’s just. My arm. It’s not there,” Bucky said sheepishly.

“I know. Do you want to keep your scarf on?” you cupped his face. 

“Well, I don’t know,” he sat down with you.

“Hey don’t be upset. Look Bucky I really, really like you and the last thing that I want to do is make you uncomfortable or feel pressured. To do something you don’t want to do,” you told him. 

“But I want to, for you.”

“Don’t it for me, do it for you,” you whispered. Bucky leaned in and kissed you again, his hand rubbing your thigh softly.

“Can you help me?” he whispered.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” he smiled. 

You looked into his eyes with gentle eyes; watching his face for any signs of discomfort as you slowly lifted his shirt. He took off the scarf and shirt altogether and you immediately caressed your hands across his skin. 

You took your own shirt off leaving you in a soft baby pink bra. Bucky looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. You brought your hands to his shoulders and sat him back against the headboard straddling his hips. 

His hand reached around you and unclasped your bra letting fall between you. His hand squeezed your breast lightly making you moan breathy. His nose traced your jaw every now and then kissed and nipped at the skin. 

You stood up and peeling your pants from your body quickly returning to straddle Bucky’s stomach. Bucky’s hips lifted up bringing you up as well and almost ripped his pants off. His hand roamed the side of your body and his lips kissed your chest. 

He circled his tongue around your nipple and your hands went in his hair combing your fingers through his incredibly luscious long locks. 

“You are so stunning, baby girl,” Bucky whispered against your skin.

“Bucky please,” you moaned.

You reached down between your bodies and grabbed Bucky’s cock pumping it a few times. You lined it up with your entrance. You grabbed Bucky’s face and pulled him in a passionate hard kiss as you sunk down slowly. 

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” you whispered against his lips. 

“Fuck,” Bucky moaned. 

You bounced up and down, throwing your head back in pleasure. Bucky kept his eyes trained on you nothing but devotion. His hand grazed your skin ever so softly sending chills to rise all over your skin. Bucky lips attached themselves to your neck and sucked and kissed the skin making small marks and bites for you to admire the next morning. 

“Bucky,” you moaned.

“What is it, baby?”

“I need to come,” you drew out, whining.

“Let go, baby. I want you to come all over my cock; make a mess baby.”

You leaned forward and buried your face in the crook of Bucky’s neck and your body shook against his as you reached your oragams. Bucky hips stuttered and jerked upward hard reaching incredibly deep inside you making you shriek in pleasure; his head falling back groaning as he came inside you.

You held on tight to Bucky as you breathed heavily still feeling his heavy cock settled inside you. You looked down at his shoulder and grazed your fingertips across the scarred skin. Unfortunately you couldn’t remove much of the scarring that had been previously there from the Hydra hack job back in the 40s. 

You had been perfecting his arm the last few months to stimulate feeling in the arm so that he felt somewhat human again, his words. You thought he was strong; he’d been through so much and he did a lot of it alone. You didn’t want him to feel alone again. 

“Whatcha thinking about, doll?” Bucky fingers traced the creases in your back softly.

“Nothing,” you whispered and closed your eyes. 

“You sure?” he whispered back.

“I’m sure,” you kissed him softly.

Bucky kicked the blanket and caught it in his hand covering you both. His hand snaked up your hair and pulled it back with your head to make you look into his eyes. 

“Just wait until I get my arm, princess. I’m gonna ruin you,” Bucky whispered against your lip, making you giggle before you both fell asleep peacefully in each other's arms. 

The next morning, Shuri came outside into the field where Bucky’s cabin was to wake him. She always made sure he was doing alright and checked if there was anything he needed her help with. When she got there she was surprised to find you walking outside holding Bucky’s hand who is in fact shirtless. 

Shuri ever saw Bucky shirtlass outside the lab and that in itself was very rare. Your hair was in a slight mess but nothing particularly crazy; it was clear you two slept together. If the appearance wasn't convincing enough, when you were pulled back by Bucky his hand circle your waist and your hands cupped jaw to pull him in a, uh… passionate kiss and Shuri’s eyes widened. 

When she was sure you were gone she walked up to Bucky who was surprised by her presence.

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Uh, moring, shuri,'' Bucky said groggily still high from your intoxicating encounter.

“I assume you didn’t get much sleep?” she snickered.

“I slept very well actually. After we-”

“Ugh! I don’t need to hear about night shenanigans with my friend,” she covered her ears in disgust.

“I'm just messing with you,” Bucky chuckled.

“How long has this been going on?” she asked assuming this was a secret.

“Just last night.”

“Don’t worry; won’t tell anyone you're sleeping with your doctor,” she smirked, knowing that was illegal in his home country.

“Shuri, who are you gonna tell? You have no friends,” he walked back inside his cabin chuckling.

“Dick!” she yelled.

“I’m going to tell my brother!” she shouting, running away making Bucky come out with a scared look on his face; immediately chasing her to stop her. 

=======================

TAGLIST:

@mathletemadison

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 9) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

my brain b decayin luv 

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link] // [Main AO3]

the president and the troublemaker (part 9)

Was this a hallucination? 

Had Lumine been out in the sun for too long? 

Surely, there was no way she was about to fight Childe of all people. 

And yet, there he stood, with that stupid grin of his, stretching his arms across the ring from her. 

“What are you doing here?” Lumine said through gritted teeth. 

“And let you have all the fun, all alone? No way,” he teased. He stretched his arms upwards, his gray tank top riding up as well, exposing well-sculpted abs (which of course made a gaggle of girls screech nearby). He caught sight of Lumine’s gaze, and laughed. “Aren’t you a little hot in that t-shirt, Lumi?” 

Bastard. 

Lumine would’ve obliterated the ground underneath that smirking ginger if she could. 

“Hey, ref,” she said to the man sitting on the lifeguard chair behind her. “Any illegal moves we can’t do?” 

The man pondered for a second. “Not really—we’re pretty casual here.” He laughed. “Just make sure you guys don’t hurt each other too much.” 

“No promises,” Lumine muttered, marching to the center of the ring. 

Childe copied her movements, and eventually stood before her. “Looks like we’re the last two left,” he said. “I wonder who will become champion of this little competition?” 

Lumine didn’t respond, instead choosing to glare up at him. 

He tilted his head curiously. “Lumine…,” he asked lowly. “Did I really hurt you earlier?” 

No, you didn’t hurt me. She didn’t know what he was doing to her. 

Her life was going perfectly fine, the exact way she had planned, until Childe found out her secret. Not only did he find out her secret, he had inserted himself into her life, and left her a swirling mess of confusing feelings—feelings she had never experienced before nor any idea of how to deal with them. He said he loved her. 

“Ready!” the referee shouted. 

Lumine raised her fists up. 

Childe mimicked her with raised brows. “That doesn’t really look like a wrestling stance to me.” 

The referee blew the whistle—the match had begun. 

Lumine immediately swung forward with a punch, to which Childe blocked easily with his forearm. 

His eye twitched. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Lumine swung again, with her other arm, and Childe quickly moved back, out of the way. The crowd around them broke into hushed murmurs as the realization set in that this was not a normal match.

Childe shook out his hands, then raised them back up, cocking his head from side to side. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a grin, he lunged towards her with a fast and powerful swing. 

Lumine felt the air blow past her face as she jumped back, her palm catching his other fist as it came in quick succession milliseconds after. She shoved his hand away, with her leg darting out in an attempt to sweep him off his feet. 

He jumped, and using the brief window of distraction, she swung at his face again. At the last second, his hands caught her forearm, and she was now stuck in his vice grip. 

“Come on, Lumine,” he breathed. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

She tried pulling her arm away, to no avail. “You,” she hissed. 

His grip loosened, just a bit, and Lumine yanked her arm out. 

“Me?” he asked. “What about me exactly?” 

“Everything.” She threw a jab at his face. “Everything you do.” Another jab. “You tease me. You confuse me.” A sweep with her foot. “I don’t know what’s happening to me—because of you.”

Childe dodged every single one of her moves, though his brows were now furrowed in concentration, and a slick sheen of sweat glistened on his face; they were tiring each other out. At this rate, neither one of them would win. Lumine’s frustration grew, bubbling and festering deep in her gut. 

“If you want me to stop,” Childe said, “I will.” He threw a punch at her. “Say the word, and I’ll go away.” Each word he said was punctuated with a swing at her, backing her up further and further. 

Do I want him to disappear?

If he did, her life could go back to normal—she could go back to normal. 

And yet, part of her knew it wouldn’t feel right.

He had really taken her out of her comfort zone, broadened her horizons. Made her a better fighter. A better person. 

Childe wasn’t the problem. The problem was her: it was her frustration and her inability to figure out how she felt about him.

“Do you really hate me, Lumine?” Childe asked. 

No. 

I like you, you idiot. 

She stepped back, ready to answer through her fists. What she didn’t realize, however, how far back she was, and she crashed directly into the referee’s chair. 

There were sharp gasps from the audience as she fell onto her back, the wind knocked from her lungs, too stunned to roll out of the way as the tall metal chair came tumbling down on her. She could only shut her eyes, and brace for impact. 

The unmistakable hollow sound of metal against skin resounded in her ears. But she didn’t feel anything. She opened her eyes. 

Poised above her was Childe, his hands on either side of her head, while his body shielded hers; his face was twisted in pain. 

“Childe?” Lumine whispered. 

He opened his eyes, and upon seeing her gazing right back at him, he forced a meek smile. 

“Hey, girlie,” he said, strained. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” She put a hand on his chest, gentle, trying to help stabilize his shaking arms. “What about you?”

A heavy huff of a breath. “I’m fine.”

The chair was lifted off of him as spectators gathered around the two, a swirl of questions and calls for medical attention. 

As he sat up, Lumine sat up as well, her hand subconsciously clutching the front of his shirt, holding him close as her concern grew. 

Childe kept persisting he was fine to everyone around, but when someone behind noted a large bruise was blossoming across his back—so large it was visible through his top—Lumine turned him around and examined it herself. 

Her fingers traced the injury, and when Childe winced, she told him they were going to the nearest clinic—no arguments. After a hasty call to Kaeya and Aether explaining the situation, the two were sitting in one of the clinic’s rooms, waiting for the doctor. 

“I told you, I’m fine,” Childe repeated from his seat on the exam table. “It’s just a bruise. It’ll go away.”

“You really don’t like getting your injuries treated,” Lumine huffed from her chair nearby. “You didn’t even want to go to a hospital after diving off a building.” 

He shrugged with a smile. “What can I say? I like to test the limits of my strength.”

Lumine rolled her eyes. “You’re not invincible, you know.” 

“I’d like to think so.”

“Jesus, who let your ego grow this much?” 

“I haven’t died yet, so there’s nothing to prove I’m not invincible.”

Lumine stood, and poked at his back. She saw his muscles jolt and scoffed. “You sure about that?”

Childe leaned back on his hands. “Injuries and scars mean nothing if I’m still breathing.” 

Lumine looked at him curiously. “What kind of mentality is that?” 

He looked back at her, his blue eyes dark in thought. Then, he grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled it over his head. 

Immediately, Lumine slammed her eyes shut, even throwing her arms over her face to block out her vision completely. “What are you doing?!” she managed to squeak out. 

There was a soft chuckle from Childe, and before she knew it, he had gently grabbed her hand, guiding it towards it, until she felt her fingers flat against his chest. She let out another squeak as her hand felt his bare skin.

Though it definitely didn’t feel normal. It felt smooth, unnatural. Lumine opened one eye to peek. 

There was a large pinkish-white scar etched on his sternum. A knife wound of sorts. Right by the heart. Life threatening.

“Some no good scumbags did this to me when I was young,” Childe explained. “Insignificant now, but maybe the reason I push myself so much. Nothing will ever come close to this life-or-death moment.” 

Lumine’s entire system felt dry as she imagined a little boy with a smattering of orange hair and bright blue eyes with this wound, gaping of blood. What kind of monsters…? “Do...Do you know who did this to you?” Lumine didn’t realize how hoarse her voice sounded until she heard her nearly trembling voice spill out. 

Another chuckle, a little darker this time. “What? Are you going to get revenge for me?” 

Lumine’s eyes stung. “You’re not angry? Upset that some monsters out there nearly killed you? When you were only a kid?”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Childe let out a sheepish laugh. “Didn’t mean to make you upset, Lumine.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, straining to keep the tears at bay. “I just...I’m always so dependent on you. Whenever I need help, you’re just magically there to save the day.” Her head hung down, eyes fixed on the floor. “I can’t even repay you for all the times you’ve come to my rescue. And you’re always the one to get hurt. Even when I’m horrible, when I’m stubborn and angry and—”

Childe wrapped his arms around Lumine, pulling her in for a tight embrace. “I’m plenty dependent on you too, Lumi.” His words buzzed against her ear as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

She hesitated a moment. But her arms eventually found their way around him as well. “Just...let me help you. Like how you help me.”

He pulled back, just a bit, his lips ghosting over her forehead as he murmured, “You already are.”

Lumine looked up at him, how impossibly close he was. Her eyes trickled down to his lips.

His eyes followed hers, and she felt his muscles tense against her skin. 

As the heat crept from the pit of her stomach to the apples of her cheeks, Lumine’s eyelids fluttered closed, and she leaned in—

CLICK.

“Alrighty, how are we doing today—?” 

Lumine and Childe froze and turned to the open door. The doctor looked back at them with raised brows. 

“Sorry, should I come back…?” the doctor asked, his voice lined with amusement.

Lumine’s arms snapped back to her own body as she frantically waved in front of her. “N-no, no, no; ah, uhm, sorry, doctor!” She quickly deflated back into the chair, facing the wall away from Childe as the doctor began his examination. 

Her heart was constantly hammering away at her chest the entire time, barely noticing the exam was over until Childe tapped her arm, jolting her back to reality. 

“Ready to go, Lumi?” he asked, a wide grin splitting his face. 

“Already? What did the doctor say?” 

“Oh? Were you a little...distracted?” If possible, his grin stretched wider. 

Lumine stood, leaving the room abruptly. “You can die for all I care,” she muttered sarcastically. 

He jogged to keep up with her. “He said I was okay: just a bad bruise that will go away after a while.” 

The two exited the building, walking into the colorful sorbet glow of sunset. 

“Back to the beach house?” Lumine asked. 

Childe hummed in agreement. There was a brief pause before he leaned down, right into her shoulder, and said, “Unless you want to finish where we left off.” 

Lumine put her palm on his forehead, shoving him away, his laugh breezing her arm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered, walking away. I am going to die from embarrassment. 

God, she had never been so...so vulnerable in front of someone. To think, she was about to kiss—

“You never did answer me, by the way,” Childe said, walking by her side. 

“What?”

“When we were fighting.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Whether you hate me or not.” 

Lumine bit the side of her cheek. “What about you?” she blurted. “Do you really love me, or is it just another one of your stupid jokes?” 

“Does it bother you?” 

Childe had stopped walking, his expression all tight lines.

“Does it bother you?” Childe repeated. “If I’m in love with you?” 

Was she going to continue running from him? Denying anything and everything about him? In the end, it would just hurt them both, wouldn’t it? 

“No,” Lumine answered quietly. 

A soft smile tugged at Childe’s lips, and he stepped in front of her, putting his hand on top of her head. “And do you hate me, Lumi?” 

“N-no.” 

“Again.”

Her face scrunched. “I...I don’t hate you, Childe.” 

I like you. Why couldn’t she just say it?

“Don’t look so constipated, Pres.” 

Lumine’s jaw dropped as her head snapped up at Childe’s face. “I am not—!”

Childe kissed her forehead, gently, his hand delicately placed on her cheek. 

“Thank you, Lumine,” he said, his breath rustling her golden locks. “For everything today.” 

She clutched his shirt, legs shaking—but she didn’t back away. “I should be the one saying thank you. For saving me.” 

“Always.” 

“I’ll save you too,” Lumine whispered. “I swear.” 

“It’s a promise, then,” Childe whispered back.

* * *

[part 10]

[snoopyplushies]

🪄 .3c

"then Jesus comes to me again and grinning lifts his shirt. i trace the scars upon his chest, that his virgin birth had led him to, he was in a bind but he embraced the sacred. god knew his face and held it but it still didn't save him" - judas, the reverent marygold

[allthingskakashi]

You said you don't write NSFW but what about a fluff "morning after" scenario for kakashi and a female S/O. Like, they had their first time the night before and they're waking up in the next morning and it's just fluff and cuteness all over. If you don't write this type of stuff either you can just ignore the ask. Take all the time you need if you're going to write it 💜

Hey anon! I’m good with writing a morning after! god it’ll be so fluffy and cute ugh and he’s gonna be the best!! Hope you like it! :)))

• The Morning After •

[Kakashi x Reader]

Languor takes over all your senses, making you barely aware of your surroundings. You want to get up, but it feels like you’re not even in control of your own body.

You squeeze your eyes tight as you feel the harsh bright rays of the Sun hitting your sleep ridden, heavy eyelids.  It must be well past when you usually wake up. You’re so sleepy, but you need to get up. This is your off day in a long time and you’ve got a lot to do. A list of all the things you need to get done once you’re up runs through your subconscious mind, perturbing you.

This fucking sunlight though, Jesus.

You force your eyes open just a slit. A blurry image of a room that’s not your own comes into view. Ugh I can’t even process anything.

You turn your gaze to your immediate vicinity and see an extended arm sticking out from under your head.

Oh.

Kakashi…

Images flood into your mind at the speed of light.

You and Kakashi watching TV…Kakashi carrying you from the couch to his bed… the two of you entangled in each other’s arms, kissing like it was for survival…him lifting your t-shirt slowly over your head…His mouth exploring your every curve and crevice…your sweaty bodies in rhythmic synchronization…both of your moans reverberating through the room…holding each other tight…falling asleep in his arms…

You feel the loud thud of your heart hammering in your chest as a montage of last night’s events plays through your mind. You’re fully awake and in your senses now. Your heart is racing as you recollect everything that happened just a few hours ago. Did that really happen?

Just the recollection sends a warm rush to your cheeks, followed closely by a feeling of overwhelming happiness in your heart. Yes, it did.

And with none other than Kakashi, the man you’re deeply in love with. The man you know loves you so much he’d die for you in a heartbeat. The man you know is the one.

You smile in contentment.

You take Kakashi’s hand sticking out from under your head and place a soft kiss on his palm, before intertwining your fingers with his. Judging by how motionless his hand feels, he must still be sound asleep. The thought of his beautiful face in tranquility, with his mussed hair sprawled all over it makes you smile to yourself. You slowly turn to your other side to face Kakashi, careful not to disturb him; anticipating a replicated sight of the image inside your head.

Facing him now, you rest your gaze upon him, only to catch him wide awake, staring at you with eyes so full of love and warmth, a subtle smile on his lips. His smile broadens as soon as your eyes meet.

He looks angelic lying there beside you, his ashen hair shining silver in the sunlight. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Good morning”, you whisper, snuggling closer to Kakashi’s chest. “How long have you been up?”

He pulls you in further and kisses the top of your head. “A while. Did you sleep okay?”

“The best I’ve slept in ages” you answer truthfully.

“Me too” Kakashi says, firming up his grip around you, his tone husky from the sleep.

The Sun outside is starting to shine brighter now, making you just a tad clammy under all the covers. You bury your face in Kakashi’s chest, trying to block out the light.

He notices, indubitably. Nothing that causes you discomfort ever escapes the copy ninja’s observant eyes. He moves nearer, providing more of his chest as a shield to you. 

“I’m sorry about that. I was going to get up and pull the curtains but...” his voice drops low “but you were sleeping on my arm...and I didn’t want to move away” he finishes in a murmur, as if he’s almost embarrassed to admit it.

You raise your head to look at him and start chuckling.

  What did I ever to do deserve this guy?

You get an irresistible urge to just reach over and smother him with kisses.

“You’re so fucking cute, you know that?” you say, laughing. He flusters up, just as he always does whenever you compliment him.

“You might have mentioned it a few times” Kakashi says, trying to sound cocky but being deceived by the giddiness in his eyes.

“But still not enough” you say, pulling his face in towards you.

Holding his face in both your hands, you plant a kiss on his forehead, and then bridge of his nose, tracing your lips all over his face. His cheeks, his eyelids, the scar on his eye, his mole, and all across, before pressing your lips on his mouth. He immediately parts his lip, greeting your tongue into his mouth with his own. He requites, taking your face in his hands and pulling you to him as your tongues meet in fervent swirls.

You keep going till you’re completely breathless. You pull your lips apart slowly, panting and unwilling to stop, your lips like opposite ends of a magnet; but needing to catch your breath.

“Well that certainly makes up for missing out on our morning work out today” you remark with smile, your voice teasing.

Kakashi laughs. “More than makes up.”

You fall back down on the bed again, lying side by side on your backs in shared silence, taking in the warmth of each other’s presence.

“Y/n”, Kakashi’s voice breaks the silence after a while. You turn your face to see him looking at you, a solemnness in his eyes, almost as if he’s scared.

“You’re okay, right? I didn’t…hurt you or anything? Please don’t be afraid to tell me whatever you feel. I love you...I hope you know that, even though I may not say it that often. And I really hope that last night was just as great for you as it was for me.” He finishes, his tone genuine but tense.

The sincerity in his voice tugs at your heartstrings. No one has ever cared for you so much before. But then, no one before was Kakashi. You’ve been with guys before, but none of them ever made you feel the way Kakashi did. And you didn’t care much for how they made you feel either, they’d meant nothing to you. But Kakashi… he was perfect in every way. He was so considerate and patient with you, making sure you were okay and having a good time every step of the way. He had never even rushed you to do anything despite the two of you being together for almost 6 months now. He had never so much as hinted at anything.

You reach out and put your hand across his cheek, stroking it lightly.

“Kakashi… last night was the most beautiful night of my life. You were great. And I’m FINE. Better than fine. I’m really happy, and I’m glad last night happened. And i do know how much you love me. I love you too.” you say smiling as you stroke out the frown lines on his face. 

Kakashi’s eyes soften, relief flowing over his face, smoothing out his features. A strange stiffness that you had noticed in him all this while vanishes and Kakashi looks like himself again. Even better, he looks happy. He beams at you, leaning over and placing a kiss on your lips.

“Well, how about some breakfast? I’ll make you your favorite.” Kakashi asks, sitting up on the bed now.

“Oh no, that’s fine, you don’t have to. I actually better get going. I have a lot to do today” you say, sighing, sitting up yourself.

“No, you don’t” Kakashi says, flatly.

You look at him, befuddled. “What do you mean? Yes, I do. I have to get my laundry, do some grocery shopping, organise my kitchen cabinets, clean my—”

“It’s all taken care of.” Kakashi answers, in the same flat voice.

“Huh?” you look at him, your face scrunched up, completely confused.

Kakashi laughs at the look on your face and takes your hands in his.

“Well, Y/n…I really wanted to spend the day with you. We hardly ever get off days or get to spend much time together. I wanted to spend time with you today so I got some clones and my ninken to care of all that for you”

You look at him, open mouthed, completely speechless.

“what did you- how did you even know what all I needed to do?”

“just saw the to-do list on your refrigerator last time I was at your place” he shrugs.

You gape at him, trying to process.

“Wait a minute, you really got Pakkun to agree to do my CHORES?”

 “Well...” he pauses for a while… “eventually.” “you know I can sweet talk anyone into anything” Kakashi finishes, with a sly grin and a wink.

You laugh, staring at Kakashi in awe, completely caught off guard by all of this.

As the initial shock and confusion of the situation subsides , a sense of relief floods through you. You feel a little guilty for feeling this way but the realization that you now have no chores to do for the entire day and are free to spend a whole day with your boyfriend makes you way too happy to mull over that right now. Both your heart and your mind feel free of any worries. It’s just you and him now.

You crawl closer to Kakashi, climbing over his extended legs and positioning yourself on his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, as his back rests against the headboard.

A mischief filled smile plays across your lips as you look deep into the eyes of the copy ninja.

“Well then...how about I sweet talk you into joining me for a shower right now, to properly express my gratitude... and then we can make breakfast and spend the rest of the day together?”

Kakashi pulls you in with a jerk, gripping your hips in his hands and returning your smile.

“no sweet talking necessary for that.”

[ashes-and-ashes]

Lightning and Marauders

Draco stares out of the window.

He’s still furious, with Harry and with Dumbledore and the entire fucking Order. He can feel it, rage coiling around his bones, the anger making him feel light-headed. He’d always had an explosive temper, the type that ended up with shattered glasses and holes in walls.

It didn’t work when his father attempted to beat it out of him, but then again, rarely anything worked. He learnt though, over the years, learnt to keep everything contained inside of him, because at least he didn’t cut anyone when he shattered.

With a sigh, Draco stares down at his arm, the ugly brand that couldn’t cover the scars on his wrist. He couldn’t even remember what the fight was about - something small, he was sure, something inconsequential and pathetic. Stress had blown it up, turned it into something so much bigger then it should have been, made him keep pushing, keep arguing until him and Harry were both screaming at each other from opposite sides of the kitchen table.

Of course, he had spat, anger making him feel like he was on fire. Of course you would say that. You’ve always had it easy, being the fucking savior.

Don’t you ever say that again, Harry replied, all hissed words and cold fury. Don’t you ever say that I had it easy. You’re the one on your Malfoy throne, all high and mighty -

You don’t know what they did to me.

What? Harry sneered. Bought you a broomstick and held your hand? Is it to your advantage to switch your side?

Fuck you.

Harry laughed. What did I expect? You’re the son of a Death Eater. Why did I ever think that we could trust you?

Draco had stormed off before he could say those damning words spinning around in the back of his head, echoing the cold words spoken by his father so long ago. You’ll never be enough. You’ve doomed us all.

He couldn’t though, couldn’t bring himself to say the words. It would destroy them, that already fragile bond he had with Harry, the small hope of something more. Even he wasn’t stupid enough to risk that.

Draco leans his head against the window, the glass cool against his cheek. The rain cast patterns over his face; he watches the shadows trace against his skin.

He doesn’t know where he is - some tower room in Grimmauld Place. The house was huge, larger then the Manor, all stone and dark wood and huge green drapes. There are tapestries all over the walls, symbols embroidered on them in heavy gold thread; he recognizes a few of them. Whom ever owned this house must have been rich - Charmed Marks were expensive and there were hundreds of them all over the walls.

He sighs, turning his attention back to the scene outside. His head pounds; he lets it drop back against the window frame.

“Done being all melodramatic?”

He can see the barest hint of a reflection in the window, all darkened shapes and blurred lines. He doesn’t bother to turn around though, just shrugs. “It’s my forté. I should go into acting.”

The person lets out a dry chuckle. “Aren’t you a spy? It’s close enough.”

Draco stiffens. “Who told you that?”

“You’re not the only Drama Queen here.”

Draco turns slightly in his seat, just so that he could see the figure standing by the door. He’s tall, hair down to his shoulders and covered with tattoos. There’s a casual sort of elegance to him, the type that Draco had spent most of his life trying to perfect, all careless arrogance and stunning grace.

Charcoal eyes met his; grey, he thinks, just like mine. Draco gets to his feet quickly, leaning back against the wall. He’s learnt that appearing casual made others lower their guard. The man’s quiet chuckle lets him know that his action had not been missed.

“God,” he says, giving him a small smirk. It’s the grin of a younger man, the ghost of something that had long died. “You remind me so much of - “

“Don’t,” Draco says, cutting him off. “Don’t say that I remind you of my father. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? As if I wanted to be some egotistical fanatic - “

The man laughs. “No. I wasn’t going to say that. I get the sense that you aren’t fond of your father though. He was an asshole. A brilliant, conniving asshole but an asshole all the same.”

Draco looks up, startled. “You know him?”

“Doesn’t everyone? Everyone who knows about Death Eaters, that is.”

Draco flinches. “I - I’m not - “

“Like them? Family bonds can be hard to sever. Just take me for an instance.”

“What do you know?” Draco fires back. “Don’t pretend like you know anything about Pure Blood families. You don’t know what it’s like to be suffocated, to be forced into a mold that doesn’t fit you - “

The man throws back his head and laughs; bitter and amused. “Oh I don’t know, do I? I probably know better then anyone else here, I Draco.”

Draco turns away, willing the tears not to come. “Oh, really?”

The man smirks. “I’m Sirius,” he says. “Sirius Black.”

“Harry’s Godfather.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been known as anything but Traitor.”

Draco folds his arms across his chest. “I’m a Malfoy,” he says. “Your name was synonymous with Hero back at home.”

“Nice to know I’m still worshipped.” Sirius leans back against the wall. He’s covered in scars, hundreds of them; up his arms and wrapped around his fingers, disappearing under his shirt. Draco thinks of his own back, the smooth, pale skin and shudders. His father was careful - and even Voldemort’s Crucio’s didn’t leave any scars. He didn’t want to think about how bad the pain was to leave so many scars across Sirius’ flesh.

“What do you want?” Draco says, keeping his voice even. “I assume you don’t just want to chat.”

Sirius shrugs. “Harry. You had a fight with him.”

“Why don’t you check in with him?”

“I already did.”

“Did he tell you about how much of a manipulative, lying bastard I was?”

Sirius shakes his head. Draco stares at his forearms, the silver moon tattoos inked onto the skin. They seemed to shimmer, even in the dark room, the edges rippling and fading into the next shape. “He told me all about you, actually. How brave you were. How you’re only 17 and yet you’re spying for a side that will try and execute you if they win this war.”

“What do I have to lose?” Draco whispers. “There’s nothing left for me in this world. I might as well try and - “

“Make it better?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius smiles. “I was actually going to say, before you interrupted me earlier that you remind me a lot of myself. Back when I was younger. You have the same...complete disregard for yourself. Self-destructive tendencies, almost. Because who cares if you burn as long as you’re warming those you love?”

“I - “

Sirius fixes him with that piercing gaze, the one that saw into his soul and stripped him bare. “Jesus, you’re young. I fought in the first War, back when I was 19. I still have nightmares. To do that to innocent kids - I don’t - you’re so - “

“Young?” Draco’s voice was a near-breath. “I’ve already killed 8 people, Sirius. I’m a little too damned to be innocent, don’t you think?”

He stared at his hands, palms up, the light dancing off his fingertips. “I’ve tortured people and been tortured myself. Spying is nothing.”

“True.” Sirius’ voice is light. “But I never knew Lucius would lay a hand on his son.”

Draco’s breath hitched. “What?”

“Don’t what me. My mother was the one hurting me. I know those marks.”

Draco stares down at Sirius’ hands, the tiny scars that flecked his skin. “What are those?”

Sirius’ grin was savage, brutal and cutting and painful. “Crucio.”

“Crucio doesn’t leave marks.”

“When you use it enough it does.”

“I’ve never met someone who knows what it feels like. Besides Harry and myself.”

Sirius blanches at the sound of Harry’s name. “He’s been...”

“Yeah.”

“God.” Sirius drops his head in his hands. “12 years. 12 fucking years I’ll never get back. God, I missed so much.”

“He loves you,” Draco says quietly. “He adores you.”

Sirius looks up. “You love him.”

It wasn’t a question. Draco feels the blood drain from his face, his heart falling to the floor. He takes a deep breathes, holds it, waits until he knew his voice wouldn’t shake. “He’s one of my closest friends.”

Sirius studies him for a minute, then lets out a low whistle. “God, you are practically a carbon copy of me.”

“What do you mean?” Draco demands.

Sirius just studies him, his head tilted, those piercing eyes shredding him slowly apart. Draco just grit his teeth, met his gaze.

Finally, Sirius speaks. “I was in love with a boy,” he says, and Draco flinches. “For ages, actually. Since I was 12. He was my best friend.”

“How did you know?” Draco breathes. “That it was love?”

Sirius smiles. “You just know.”

“I don’t though.” Draco looks down, at his feet. “I always hear things, about how love makes you soft, makes you happy, lifts you up and turns you lighter. And I always think what bullshit. Because that’s not what I feel. Not at all.”

“It’s fire,” Sirius says quietly.

“God, it’s more then that. It’s consuming. It scares me, because I’m in a war, and if something happened to him...There’s nothing I wouldn’t do - I’ve switched sides for God’s sake. I’ve damned my soul because of him, I love him that much.”

Sirius just shrugs, head propped up against his han, and Draco thinks again that he looks very, very young. “The only monster made are ones that are in love.”

“And he doesn’t - I don’t even know if he loves me.”

Sirius laughs. “Oh Merlin. Harry most definitely does, Draco.”

“No - “

Sirius cuts him off. “Yes. He does.”

Draco looks down, at his feet. He can feel the weight of Sirius’ gaze against his back, burning into his soul. “Tell me about him,” he says.

Sirius closes his eyes. “I don’t know. He was...beautful. All full of light - the steady kind. A candle, compared to the raging flames inside of me - inside of both of us,” he adds. “He never thought he was good enough, but he was better then I ever could be.”

Draco nods. He thinks about Harry - his smiles, his eyes, the way his hair felt when Draco let his hands brush through. The harsh set of his mouth when he was concentrating, the way he laughs, all quicksilver and molten metal, the way Draco’s heart stopped every time they touched. He thinks about how he dropped everything - his family, his title, his home, how he was willing to die just to give Harry a chance and he wonders if he’ll ever have anything like this again.

“Do you regret it?” he asks. “Telling...telling whoever it was?”

Sirius’ holds Draco’s gaze.

“No,” he says, and Draco believes him.

[brelione]

Protect You (JJ Maybank X Reader)

Warnings:Domestic Violence,blood

Request:Hi! can you write a jj maybank fic with prompt #10, y/n is friends with the pogues and just recently broke up with her kook boyfriend. She starts getting closer with Jj and then her ex wants to get back together, she doesn’t so he chokes her and punches her. She tries to hide it from the pogues but jj thinks the bruises on her neck are hickies and gets defensive. Y/n continues to lie but then JJ makes her cry and she tells the truth ?? (Love ur blog v much❤️💕💖)

So this isnt exactly what you wanted but I tried so I hope you still like it <3

Loose long sleeve shirts,baggy sweatpants and high top sneaks.You were limping ever so slightly,thinking that none of them had noticed.You had been alarmingly quiet and smoking weed pretty much every 20 minutes.Nobody asked you why you were acting this way.Kie had just thought you were on your period,sharing the information with the boys,You had been staying at John.B’s and refusing to go back to your house in case he showed up there.

It was somewhere around 7 in the morning when JJ woke up,going to the porch to smoke.You were already there.Your hood was up,hair in a messy know on top of your head.You had a few dark bruises on your neck,the fake metal chain you owned dangling off your neck.You were leaning on the railing,blunt between your lips and your eyes closed as you tried to calm your thoughts with the drug.The small scar on your cheekbone had become irritated as it always did when you had cried.Being in this state meant that you hadnt noticed JJ’s tall figure yet.You let out a sigh,a small cloud of white smoke leaving your mouth.JJ came up behind you quite. 

“Morning.”His voice whispered groggily.You pulled up your hood so the fabric covered your neck,the material stopping behind your bun. “Morning.”You answered quietly,wincing as his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder. “Are you okay,sunshine?”She asked.You took the blunt back between your lips,nodding slowly. “You’ve been smoking a lot lately.”He observed,sliding his hands under your hoodie and onto your hips.You grabbed his wrists tightly,pulling them off your body.He frowned.

 “What’s wrong?”He repeated his previous question,sounding more serious this time. “I dont like when people touch me.”You answered as smore crawled out of your mouth and into the air.He slid between you and the railing. “You love hugs and cuddles.You always have.Im gonna ask one more time.What’s wrong?”He asked again.Worry and anger course through his veins.He hadnt really seen sunshine in three days.He had seen (Y/N) but not his sunshine that he had known and loved since seventh grade.

You sighed,avoiding his eyes as you exhaled smoke,the cloud hitting his clothed chest.You went to take another hit but he took it from your hand,making your eyes widen. “What the hell,JJ?”You asked,tears beginning to form in your bloodshot eyes.He sighed,looking down at you.You were silent as you thought about what you could possibly say,what excuse you could make.You held the bottom of your hoodie,thinking about what you were about to do. “Don't tell anyone.If you tell anyone ill kill you.”You told him.He nodded nervously. “Im serious,not even John.B”You spoke softly,worried that someone would hear you even though you were ten feet away from the house.He nodded again.

You hesitated,pulling off the hoodie with a small hiss.His heart dropped,feeling sick.Yellow and black bruises cover your torso,scratches and scabs and cuts all over your ribs and stomach.You pulled at the drawstrings of your pants,letting them fall into the grass.Your knee cap looked out of place,a large cut across your thigh.He couldn't say anything,tears coming from his eyes as his jaw fell. “Dont cry,im fine.”You forced a grin on your face.His fists clecnched. “Who the fuck did this?”He demanded,hand going to the gun in the waistband of his jeans.You sighed,shaking your head. 

“This is why I didn't want to tell you.”You mumbled. “Dammit!What the fuck does that mean?You cant just let me fucking protect you!Ill go to fucking prison!Doesn't matter if you tell me or not ill blow that son of a bitches brain out!”He shouted as you took steps backwards.Tears were going down his face.Someone had hurt his sunshine,ruined you.No one could make bruises like that with just their fists which meant whoever done this had a weapon.

 “JJ,just listen to me.Im fine.I had an accident and it was my fault.I feel fine.Everything is fine.”You spoke softly,trying to calm him. “Bullshit!”He shouted.Pope and Kiara came down the back steps quietly,trying to figure out what was going on.Kiara screamed when she saw you,causing you to turn around and see what she was screaming for.Now JJ could see the long cut across your back,the moon shaped cuts on your neck and the little bruises all over your shoulders. 

“Kie-im fine.Im fine-just go back inside.”You squeaked out,becoming overwhelmed with everything going on.JJ held his gun tighter. “JJ look at me.Im breathing and standing.Im fine.”You spoke,voice becoming shaky as you spoke to the blonde. “Shit,(Y/N).I think you need stitches for that.”Pope stared at the deep cut.You quickly shook your head,trying to gain control over the situation again. “No-no,Pope thats stupid!Im fine.Go back inside.”You spoke desperately,tears rolling down your face and neck.

JJ looked at the bruises one more time before slamming his hand against the railing.You sand to the ground,head in your hands as John B started shouting for all of you to go to the hospital.You hadnt even noticed him come outside.Kiara was crying,Pope was about to vomit,John.B was panicking and JJ had kneeled down in front of you,trying to talk.You couldn't hear anything he was saying,any sounds except for your heart beating and your sobs.He needed you to go to the hospital,desperately trying to get through to you.He gently lifted your chin up so you’d look at him properly. “Sunshine,you need to get in the van so we can take you to the hospital.”He spoke gently,his fingers tracing lines along your temple and jawline gently. 

“Im fine.”You insisted,trying not to cough. “You’re not fine-your knee is fucking twisted,your back is slashed and youre covered in bruises!You’re not fine!”John B shouted,completely losing his cool.You huffed at the commotion,ignoring the hot tears and the pounding in your head. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”You tried pulled the hoodie from under JJ’s knee. “You cant just put your hoodie back on and pretend everything is fine.”He refused to move.You looked up at him,offering a small smile. “Everything is fine.”You repeated again.His jaw clenched.

 “What the actual fuck?Come on,you know you're not fine!You know you’re not!Just let someone help you for once in your damn life-its either you get in the van and you let us take you to the hospital or I will hunt down whoever did this and shoot them in the fucking face.What’s it gonna be?”He asked.You just shook your head,more tears coming from your eyes.Someone else always got gurt,why>Kiara slowly came up to you,kneeling down and letting you cry into her shirt.You just kept apologizing,crying.POpe ran inside,coming out with a first aid kit and a rag,yelling for John.B to get rubbing alcohol and ice. “Hey,hey you gotta let us help you.”The dark skinned boy spoke quietly,sitting by you.

You let out a loud sob,JJ bit down hard on his lip and tried not to cry too.Everything was a blur as a rag got put in your mouth while Kiara held you tight.Pope was trying to clean the slash on your back with rubbing alcohol,your screams and sobs muffled by the rag. “Guys!Give her a minute!”JJ shouted.Pope took the blood stained,alcohol drenched towel and tossed it onto the porch.Kiara slowly let go of you,allowing you to lean forward.It was unspoken as JJ opened his arms and you wrapped your arms around him as you cried until you couldn't anymore,your eyes puffy.He didn't touch you at all,not wanting to hurt you and remembering you saying that you didn't want to be touched. “Was it...was it Lucas?”He asked.You gave him a weak nod,breaths still shallow from crying so hard.His hands became fists but he tried not to get angry again for your sake.

He made quick eye contact with John.B.They would go to his house and beat the devil out of him later.He rested his head against your shoulder,kissing your collarbone lightly. “Did he hit your head?”He asked.You just held onto him tighter.What a fucking mess this was.You sighed,moving away from him. “How long has this been going on?”John.B asked,sitting down. “A couple months.”You answered,finally coming clean. “Jesus,sunny,why didn't you tell any of us?”He asked.You shrugged,wincing at the pain.

 “Thought you guys would be mad at me.”You mumbled,causing the group to go silent. “You should come inside and shower.”Kiara suggested.She held her hand out to you,you got up with a low groan as your knee made a cracking sound.You pulled your clothes out from underneath JJ,limping back inside with Kie.She turned on the shower for you while you stared at your body in the mirror. “It doesn't hurt...he didn't hit me that hard.”You ran your fingers along the bruises. “He could've killed you.”Kie reminded you. “Its fine,Kie.I bruise easy anyways.You should see Lucas,I kneed him right in the dick.”You gave her a small smile before hesitantly stepping under the hot,flowing water.

You let out a sharp squeak as the blood hit the water,coloring the floor a faded murky red. “Im going to grab you some clothes.Will you let me bandage you up later?”Kie asked.You nodded,watching the blood go down the drain and try not to get your ahir wet.You heard the door open around two minutes later,too tired to open your eyes.Everything just felt heavy. “Why didn't you tell us?”A masculine voice asked.You could identify the voice as JJ’s.You opened your eyes partly,looking over to see him leaning against the sink with clothes under one arm and a towel under the other.

 “You never asked.”Was all you could think of,hand shaking as you turned off the water.You held onto the wall for support,shocked at how weak you were.You felt JJ wrap the towel around your shoulders,holding his arm out for support.You held on tight to his for arm as his other hand went to your waist,ready to catch you if you fell.You were trembling slightly,gripping his arm so hard that it was beginning to lose color. “I've got you baby girl.Take your time.”He spoke softly.You nearly fell as you stepped onto the small rag on the tile floor.The towel still hung on your shoulders,covering your breasts.

He slowly dragged the towel down your body,careful as the material grazed your injured thigh,dragging it back up to pat your neck dry.He kissed your forehead lightly,letting your naked body lean against him.In any other situation it would be all of his dreams and fantasies come true but he couldn't think about anything sexual in this moment.He was helping you,comforting you. “Baby.”He mumbled quietly.Neither of you really knew why he called you that,it just came more naturally than your name.He called you by Baby,Babygirl,Sunshine.Pretty much anything but your name.You could realate.You had nicknames for the others,words you would use instead of their names.

Pumpkin,Sweetheart,Darling,Love.But only JJ got to be called Love.It was something special for only him.You hummed quietly,listening to him. “I’ll hurt him,if you want.”He offered,waiting for your answer.You shook your head,moving his chin so he was forced to look at you. “Don't be so angry,Love.Karma will get him eventually.”You answered softly,pulling him down so you could kiss his nose. “I just wish I could protect you from everything.”He sighed,his bottom lip quivering.You pulled him closer,pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. 

“I know.But you cant and thats okay.”You replied before pulling the clothes from the bathroom counter,trying to figure out how you could slip on the shorts without making your thigh cut bleed again.He noticed your struggle,taking the shorts from you and assisting in pulling them up your legs,helping you with the T Shirt as well. “I love you.”He whispered.You nodded,squeezing his hand. “I love you too.”You answered.

@nas-marie-loves-u @28cnn @sexytholland  @yuxsh06   @ifilwtmfc  @cherryobx @poguestarkey @n1ghtsh4d3-67  @poguestyleskye @judayyyw  @sunwardsss @meaganjm  @outerbongs  @copper-boom  @httpstarkey  @maybebanks​ 

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[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [5]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Warning: Smut, loss of virginity, unprotected sex

↳  Word count: 6,964

↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | You Are Here! | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRIDAY - 5 - Part 1

The covers that enveloped you were warm and soft, keeping you nearly trapped under the weight of a thick duvet. Time ticked by slowly as you found the most comfortable position in bed. 

Mark's body was pressed taut against you, and you could feel nearly every inch of him attached to your backside. His arm was draped over you, his hand casually coming to rest over your tummy, only he had put in the lazy effort of slipping it underneath your nightshirt. 

Even when Mark is asleep he's driving you crazy. You doubt he's even noticed that your skin is twitching under his touch, the comfort and warmth of blankets making every feeling warmer and sensitive. You feel his steady breath tickling the back of your neck, his pelvis pressed against your ass, and you let out a whimper when he adjusts himself. 

"(Y/N)?" Mark's voice is groggy and filled with sleep. He grips your hip gently, fingers sliding over the flesh of your side. "Are you okay?" 

"What would you do if I told you no?" You ask sheepishly, turning around in bed so you were facing him. The darkness of your room left a lot to the imagination, but you could still slightly make out his twinkling eyes. Again, you felt like he was staring straight at your soul. 

"Then I'd ask why you're not okay," he says, and you can tell he's smiling at you. His hands are beginning to wander up your body, from your hip to your waist.

"You, silly. I can't get you out of my head. Everything you do sets my heart on fire - I can't sleep or study, I-" another whimper escapes you when you feel his index finger gently flick your nipple.

"You do the same to me," he admits. "I can barely keep my hands off you. You're intoxicating…" his hand slides away from your breast, running down your arm to grasp your hand. "Here," he guides you down to tuck your hand underneath the pant line of his sweats, his member hard and hot. You circled your hand around it and Mark sighed in relief.

You suck in a sharp breath. "Mark," 

"Don't talk," he commanded lowly. "Just kiss me, please," 

Through the darkness, your lips met in a wet kiss. His hips thrust into your hand, causing him to groan and separate from the kiss so he could rest his forehead against yours. 

"Good," he groaned, closing his eyes tightly and licking his lips. "Fuck, grip it harder." 

As soon as you comply and tighten your grip on his cock, he moans again and began thrusting harder into your hand. Hearing and feeling all of this nearly floods your underwear, and you wished that he was fucking you instead of your hand. 

Mark kisses you again, desperate. You can feel the puffs of him breathing through his nose on your face, and you can barely keep yourself sane.

"Mark-" his voice rolls off your tongue once you manage to break his kiss, as if you were begging, and he barely slows down. He tightly holds your shoulder, and you think it might bruise. 

"Y-yeah?" 

"Please," you really feel like you're begging now. 

(Y/N)!

That wasn't Mark's voice. 

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!" 

Groaning, you begin to open your eyes. The room isn't quite bright yet, and suddenly you feel a great weight on your abdomen. 

"Mark?" You ask dumbly, the figure shaking you awake not quite clear enough for you to see. 

"No, it's me!" 

One you realize you can move your arms, you bring your hands up to rub your eyes. Your vision clears up and you realize Rhiannon is sitting on top of you, looking down on you with a giant grin on her face. Her hands are gripping your shoulders tightly, enough that you wince.

"Rhiannon, what the hell?" You ask, barely reaching your glasses that were perched on your desk. You slip them on and even further notice that she is shirtless. "You woke me up. Put a shirt on."

"I know, dummy!" She exclaims. "Look!" She shoves her chest further into your face until you see it. Puffy scar marks in the shape of hands on her shoulders. 

"You have-" 

"Donghyuck is my soulmate!" 

You’re too tired for this, and coming out of a dream that surely will not leave your brain. “Rhiannon, I’m happy for you, but can you please get off me?” Raising an eyebrow, Rhiannon lifts herself from your body and sits on the edge of your bed. She’s still grinning like a maniac, tracing the scars. “My hand marks are going to be on his chest,” she reminds you, tapping her feet excitedly on the floor. “I’m gonna rip off his shirt tonight so I can look at them. And do other things. As you do.” 

Groaning, you peel the covers off yourself. “Jesus, TMI,” you say, rubbing your eyes. “You’re way too excited about this.” Rhiannon scoffed. “You’re not excited enough! We’re soulmates with two members of NCT! How amazing is that?! All the fanfictions in the world could never have actually prepared me for this! What should I wear?” You’re soon enough drowning out her hushed ramblings on if she should try looking for a new dress at Forever 21. “I’m happy for you, Rhi, but you should really stop worrying so much. Didn’t you have an outfit planned out a month ago?” You ask, standing up and moving out of your room to start the day, Rhiannon following close behind.

“Yes,” she replied immediately, watching you dig through your clean clothes for the outfit you set aside for the day. “But now that I know I’m Donghyuck’s soulmate, I think I should wear something better.” “We’re going to an NCT concert, dude. NOT wearing neon green is gonna make you look just plain weird. Just go with what you picked out.”

Rhiannon sighed, conceding with a dejected nod. “I just don’t know if he’ll like it or not.” You smile, finally pulling out your own neon green tank top and blue shortalls. “He’ll love it, stop worrying.” You pull on your own outfit, adding a handmade hairband with the word 마크 written in little neon felt letters atop it. "How do I look?" 

"Stunning, as usual," Rhiannon replies, smiling. "I'm gonna go get changed. See you at the venue." Rhiannon disappears into her bedroom as you grab your backpack and a granola bar, heading out to the last class of the week.

Let's hope I don't trip and ruin my clothes…

Friday. Two days left to submit your final for evaluation, but if you were to get the grade you wanted, you decided to submit it at the end of class. From your locker, you pulled out your finished portfolio, a playfully decorated photo book covered in stickers and polaroid photos. All that was left was your mini-essay.

You arrived into class and greeted Moose warmly, quickly letting her get back to her own project that she was finishing up. Once you sit down at your computer, you read through your document that you had been working on whenever you weren’t with Mark.                                       - Final Portfolio and Bonus Objective - 

                                                  Love in Photographs

                                                          (Y/N) (L/N)

                                                         Ms. Prentice

                                                     Photography 203

In this essay, I will address the personal effects of photography and how, in the second and final year of my program, my entire life has changed within a week’s time. In this final, my photos will reflect on why I chose to use the concert program as my focus. 

Photography is, to me, an incredibly emotional profession. From weddings to sprawling landscapes, a photo will mean something to someone. It means a beautiful memory that will last forever, the progression of nature and our planet, or solid evidence of a crime that could provide closure to a mourning family. 

Photography can also have an impact during the social interaction of business. It didn’t occur to me for nearly two years that I’ve spent studying the profession. When I signed up for the concert program, I was just a fan of the group I happened to see a flyer for. NCT is a K-Pop group currently touring in North America and the group that hired me for the program. 

It was my emotional connection to them that made me want to take the job. It was thrilling to think about working for them as my first clients, even if it was a co-op program. I wanted to meet them, talk with them, learn what they wanted and do my best to make it a reality. The program was always going to be an emotional experience for me, but I truly learned about how photography was an emotional two-way street after I met Mark Lee in person.

After this week, I truly believe that everybody winds up getting the jobs they’re supposed to get.

Mark Lee is the main subject of my portfolio and a member of NCT. He was the person I spent the most time with, and considering the specifications of NCT’s commission, he was the person I worked with the most. While NCT specifically asked for one singular photo, Mark was insistent on spending time with me, letting me take photos of him for my project. The day after meeting him, my scars appeared. Mark Lee was my soulmate, something that I never thought I’d find - and would never have looked for intentionally. 

The connection we formed was stronger than any other emotional bond I’ve had throughout my life, and from that moment on, every photo I took was a passion project. Sealing my soulmate in the immortality of a photo was exhilarating. Something I could keep close while he was away. It made me think of future clients, an image was clear in my head of someone asking me for the same thing. Something to see and remember even if the subject of that photo was too far away to touch.

In the past, I had been sceptical of having a soulmate of my own, but I knew I had to dampen my prejudice for the sake of future clients, especially those looking to hire me for their wedding photos. In wedding ceremonies, I would be photographing soulmates that could be naked for all I knew. Soulmate marks could appear anywhere, after all. Still, my worldview made me reluctant to think about that branch of career. I told myself I would only photograph wildlife or do fully clothed modelling, even if that decision cut my clientele in half. Until Mark Lee.

In this portfolio, you can see Mark on various outings with me and the rest of NCT, or just posing for the sake of a ‘cool picture with the subway in the background’. Photographs don’t need to have a purpose as a photograph holds meaning no matter what the subject is. For me, the photos in this final represent letting go of my fears and finding love, humbling myself and seeing that I can branch out and do more than I planned. Instead of seeking grandeur, I want to take photos of anything someone might find the smallest amount of happiness in. A smile, a flower, a kiss. Even if someone is worried about asking for something that may seem trivial, I want to assure them that if it means something to them, it means something to me, too.

Any photo here of Mark Lee, or even the one photo I took of NCT, to me, is a symbol of love. To make new friends and experience a culture different from mine, to see their dreams become a reality in front of me. If this final project before I graduate is the gate to my own dream coming true, these photos will definitely represent my passion. To see more than just myself. To see others and the love they share for anything this world has to offer. 

Originally, the portfolio I was going to create was going to be just one photo from the program, but in the end, over half of what is included was from the past week. An emotional connection to the world and everything in it is every bit important in the world of photography as skills with a camera. Both of which I hope to carry into the world with me as my career truly begins.

Satisfied, you saved your work and went through it once more with Grammarly to make sure you hadn’t let any mistakes slip past. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you send the document to the classroom printer, knowing that once you tape your essay inside of your portfolio project, it was time to submit early and wait for your teacher’s sign of approval on your graduation form. After submitting your papers into the printer, you make your way to the classroom’s printer and log in to your account, selecting the pages you’ve sent to it. Now it was time to wait. Your phone buzzes, and you pull it out to read a text. Mark: How’s class?

You: I’m almost done my paper 

You: Gonna submit it and then I can leave early

Mark: Sweet see you soon?

You: Yeah, see you soon

Mark: I can’t wait, I had a strange dream last night

Before you can reply, your paper finishes printing. Deciding to answer his text later, you return to your desk and finish up your final. You quickly flip through the book to make everything is secured, and with a deep breath, you stand. Ms Prentice is smiling at you from her desk, beckoning you over once she realizes you have your portfolio in hand. 

“Glad to see my top student is still consistent,” she said in a sing-song voice, taking the portfolio from you as soon as you reach her desk. “Are you sure you don’t want to take the weekend to add more? I heard the concert you’re attending is today.”

You shake your head. “No, ma’am. I completed the task I was hired for, so any photos I take at the concert won’t have an impact on the messages I want to convey.” 

She smiles at you. “I look forward to looking through it, then. You’re dismissed if you have nothing else to complete here.” “Nothing else unless you have a task for me,” you answer, smiling down at her.

Ms Prentice shakes her head, still smiling. “Go ahead, enjoy the rest of your day. Say hello to Mark for me. He’s quite the polite young man.” Blushing, you nod. “Okay, I will.” 

As soon as you stepped outside the classroom, you breathed a deep sigh of relief. All of your finals were completed and after the final week of classes, you would prepare to graduate at the end of June. 

After making a quick stop to the arts building to pick up a photo frame, you put on some music and headed out to the streetcars. It was still quite early in the morning, so you had a place to sit down during your trip to the venue. You noticed you still hadn't answered Mark's text, you decide to do so while you waited. 

You: sorry, was submitting my final - prof says hello

You: I'm on my way now

You: What do you mean by strange dream?

It didn't take Mark long to reply. 

Mark: travel safe

Mark: Well it's a little embarrassing to explain kinda 

You: I had a dream too last night with you in it 

Mark: what happened in it 

You: you stayed with me last night and you slept in my bed 

Mark: and that's it?

You: hell no >\\\> 

Mark: I think we had the same dream

You: how did it end?

Mark: well, uh, you know…

You: mine ended with rhiannon waking me up so I think mine got cut off 

Mark: oh 

Well I think you can infer what ended up happening 

You: aaaaaaaaaaa 

Mark: I just wish I could have stayed 

You: I wish too but I'll be there soon 

Mark: I'll meet you at the station

You: arent you worried about fans swarming you

Mark: nah it's too early for any fans to be showing up since everything is seated there is no reason to camp out 

You: okay as long as you're sure 

You: Thank you

Mark: of course <3 

You: I'm really nervous 

You: That dream I had felt really real 

Mark: it did for me too 

You put your phone down and licked your lips. If anything, you would have loved to live out that dream. Go all the way. It made your body ache thinking about it, but it also made you nervous to think about sneaking around the others if you suggested it to Mark. 

You arrived at your stop, a little surprised the place was mostly empty save for Mark sitting inside one of the bus shelters. As soon as he saw the streetcar pull up, he stood to wait for you by the curb. 

Mark was still dressed in casual clothes, jeans and a black t-shirt with a pair of yellow converse. That probably meant they hadn't started getting ready for performances yet - which was reasonable considering it wasn't even midday.

Mark smiles when he spots you through the window, waving at you as you exited. Without a word you approached him and trapped him in a tight hug.

"Woah," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah," you reply into his chest, voice muffled. "I just missed you." 

Mark kissed the top of your head, "I missed you too." Gently holding your shoulders he separated from the hug. "Come on, let's go inside." He takes your hand and squeezes it gently, smiling down at you with a blush consuming his cheeks. 

Mark leads you across the street and toward the venue, enjoying a comfortable silence blanketed under the warm summer sun. Just as you reach the maintenance doors, he pauses. "Oh, I almost forgot. Here, you'll need this." Mark reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled up lanyard. On the end of it was a laminated card that had the Neo City cover photo inside with "Backstage Pass" written on the bottom.

"Oh, thank you. I almost forgot about these." You let him put the lanyard around your neck, smoothing it out gently. He smiles and nods approvingly, then continues leading you inside. 

There are people milling about, hauling things into the stadium from trucks. You don't have to explicitly show your lanyard, you assume, because you're with Mark, but workers are still cautiously watching you as you pass by. 

Once you two enter the arena, you notice that you're close to the back section, where you originally bought tickets for. You spot everyone lounging around the stage that looked like it was just finished being put up. Rhiannon is there as well, sitting with Donghyuck and Jungwoo.

The arena itself was smaller than the largest one you've been to for another concert the year before, but it was still impressive. You take a quick look around, noticing the different sections and the VIP rooms that were attached to the ceiling. This place was originally for hockey, after all.

"Hey, guys!" Mark calls into the stadium. Everyone perks up from their conversation and wave at you, prompting you to wave back sheepishly. "Do you want to go see them, or?" Mark held your hand tightly, speaking softly. 

"What do you mean?" You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

"You know… what we talked about. Make time?" There's something in Mark's eyes as he speaks like he's begging you, the usually bright and playful twinkle in his eyes replaced by love and need. His gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, and he steps a tiny bit closer to you. 

Before you can answer, you hear Rhiannon shouting in your direction in Korean. You quickly glance at her, and even though you're too far away to see her face properly, you can tell she's making an obscene gesture at you - making a circle with her thumb and index finger, passing the index finger of her other hand through the circle. The other guys burst out laughing, and you feel your cheeks light up in an embarrassed blush.

"Uhm, what did she say?" 

Mark smiles awkwardly, face bright red. He still keeps eye contact, licking his lips before answering your question. "She said she better not catch us trying to fuck in the hallway again…" 

You press your forehead into his chest, groaning. "Now they all know about that?!"

Mark chuckles gently. "Yeah, I'm sorry. It's okay though, they're all understanding, I promise. Come on, I have a place for us to go. If you want, that is." 

"Y-yeah, but I don't want them to make fun of us…" Mark once again begins leading you out of the stage area and into the main hallway of the venue. 

He holds you close as you walk, "I promise that they won't. They can have their fun now, but they'll be doing the exact same thing when they find their own soulmates."

You guessed that you could agree with him on that. You're not exactly sure where he could be leading you as you eventually approach a stairway. Mark stops, searching your expression silently.

"Are you okay, Mark?" 

He licks his lips again when he hears his name. "Yeah, I'm okay. I just want to know if you really truly want to do this, and not because you feel pressured." 

You gently squeeze Mark's hand, nodding. "I really want this. I give you my full and utter consent. I don't want you to be uncomfortable or pressured, either." 

Mark smiles gently at you, relieved. He starts to go up the staircase. "That's why I came here with Donghyuck earlier than the others. Come on, we're almost there." 

A little confused by what he meant, you let Mark keep the lead. At the top of the staircase was another smaller hallway lined with doorways. You figured it was to the observation boxes you saw when you were in the arena. He leads you to the end of the hallway, stopping at the final door.

"This one," Mark says to himself, looking back and smiling at you. 

"You're not-" 

Mark quickly opens the door and holds it open for you, allowing you to enter first. The premium seating area was a lot fancier than you expected- and a lot more closed off. The window overlooking the stage was covered by a black curtain, leaving the room dark until Mark entered the room behind you, flicking on the lights and setting them to be dim. He closed the door behind himself, leaving the two of you truly alone.

On the left of the room was a little kitchen area, complete with cabinets, a mini-fridge and a counter with an electric kettle sitting atop it. In the corner of the counter was a little sink accompanied by soft-looking tea towels. By the window was a bar table with some high chairs, next to it a coffee table shoved against it. On the left of the room was a couch with a soft blanket spread over it. 

Mark kicked off his shoes and set them by the door. "What do you think?" He asked shyly. "We have this room until about 2, so plenty of time before people start looking for me."

"Wow," was all you could really muster, also managing to slide off your own shoes. You set your backpack next to them, placing your lanyard on the top of your bag. "You really did this just so we could have some time alone?"

"Yeah," Mark moved to stand in front of you, gently taking your hand and bringing it up to his face so he could kiss your knuckles fondly. "It beats a broom closet or the hallway outside your apartment," he grins. 

Your face goes red as your memories flood of his knee nearly meeting your crotch the night before. "Yeah, you're right. Thank you for making me comfortable." 

"Of course," he replies cheerfully. "Want me to make you some tea?" 

"No, thank you," your gaze meets Mark's and you swallowed thickly. "I really can't get that dream out of my head," your voice quiets to a whisper, like someone outside could still hear you.

Mark's expression changes quickly, from cheerful to something you could almost discern as predatory. "Me neither," he agreed, his voice deeper and softer. "Can I kiss you?" 

"You can do a lot more than that," you manage to breathe out before his lips are on yours. You wrap your arms around his torso, grasping the cloth of his t-shirt. His hands are resting gently over the jean material covering your hips, mouth moving against yours perfectly. 

You whimper into the kiss, deciding to be a little bold. You untucked his shirt from his jeans and slide your hands underneath the fabric. He takes in a sharp breath once your hands land on his skin, and he breaks the kiss.

"Wow," he sighs, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is flushed and he's smiling warmly at you. 

You sigh in return, swallowing thickly. You want to kiss him again, but he backs up. The next thing you know, he's pulling off his shirt, the fabric landing gently on the floor. Mark then begins guiding your hands to touch his chest. His skin is smooth and soft, toned but not too muscular. His hands are wrapped softly around your wrists, guiding but not completely controlling where you touch.

"Feels good," he sighs, and you wonder if you should stay bold.

"I have an idea," you whisper, your gaze flicking to the couch for a moment. "Sit down?" 

Mark silently agrees with you, both of you approaching the furniture. Mark sits down first, and you take a moment to drink in the view. He's already nearly panting, watching you and running his tongue over his lips. 

Even though his soulmate scar has changed much of what his chest would originally look like, you see his pecs, hard nipples and the outline of nearly formed abs on his tummy. Your eyes continue down to the small black trail of hair that ends your gaze at the band of his boxers peeking out from his jeans. You can tell he's already half-hard in his pants, but you try to not let your gaze linger out of shyness.

"You're stunning, Mark," you say, possibly paralyzed as you stand in front of him. 

He smiles, reaching both arms out to you. "C'mere," he says, "I want to know what you had in mind." 

Licking your own lips, you nod and approach him, climbing onto his lap and straddling him. You gently kiss him once more, and when you back away, he tries to follow and catch your lips again. You shake your head at him, feeling his hands wander back to your hips.

Taking in a deep breath, you dive in. First, your lips meet the crevice of his neck to his traps, lightly trailing your lips across his skin. You feel the slight swelling of his scar, then normal skin as you end your little expedition on the edge of his shoulder. Placing a hand on his chest, you feel his heartbeat, a little fast-paced but steady. You close your eyes for a moment, readying yourself and hoping that he was going to like what you were about to do.

You lean back to look Mark in the eye, even if he is already lost in how he's feeling. "This all is okay, right?" You ask, just to make sure. Your hand slides from his chest down to his hip, slipping a finger barely underneath the band of his boxers.

"Oh yeah," he sighs. "Keep going." 

You comply, lowering your mouth to gently flick your tongue on his right nipple. His reaction is immediate, a whimper that nearly sends you to the high heavens, a strong tingly feeling surging through your crotch. 

"Fuck," the word sounded so obscene yet sweet coming from him, "that's good." 

Smiling triumphantly, you continue with your plan. Gently licking and sucking ever so slightly on his chest until he's a moaning mess, his grip on your hips getting tighter and you start to feel his cock straining in his pants. 

"(Y/N), wait, wait," 

You immediately perk up and begin to worry. "I'm sorry, did I-" 

"No," he nearly laughs. "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna cum in my pants."

You sheepishly look away, "oh," 

"(Y/N), it's okay," Mark says softly, his hands coming to your chest to unclip your overalls, "let's make this about you, too." 

You're speechless as he slowly guides you to stand up, the loose shortalls falling to the floor. His eyes are almost immediately glued to your panties, and you nearly forgot you were wearing your Avengers themed underwear today, the A symbol brandished proudly on the front.

Mark is grinning at you now. "Please tell me there are Avengers on your butt."

Whimpering out of embarrassment, you hide your face in your hands and you drop to your knees in front of him. Mark kisses your forehead, gently taking hold of your wrists again so you can't hide your face. 

"It's okay, I really like them. Come and sit on my lap again, please?" 

Once you realize how you're sitting, you look up at Mark. He's towering over you, and you like that he is looking down at you. "Do you not want me to-" 

Mark shakes his head gently. "Not this time. I just need you in the real way right now." 

When those words reach your ears, you know you're whipped. Standing and stepping out of the jeans pooled beneath you, you clamour back onto Mark's lap. Instantly he's back to kissing you, his hands now freely roaming up the sides of your body, softly. Like in your dream. 

Before Mark can take off your shirt, you both began pressing harder against each other, causing you to moan into the kiss. It felt good to feel his clothed cock over your panties, one less layer preventing complete feeling. 

"Fuck, I wanted to drag this out," Mark says in between kisses that are growing in intensity, "I can almost feel how wet you are and my pants are still on,"

"Take them off, please?" You ask, borderline begging. Mark smiles up at you and doesn't hesitate in complying. You balance on your knees with your hands on Mark's chest as he slides his hands between you both to unbutton and wriggle out of his pants, bringing his boxers with them. Once his cock is free, it sits flush and hard against his abdomen. You find yourself unable to peel your eyes away from it.

"Like what you see?" He jokes, gripping the shaft and moaning once he gives it a couple strong tugs. "Fuck, need you.."

"Mm," you're barely able to form a response, especially when Mark hooks his fingers against your shirt, coaxing you to lift up your arms and allow it to slide off. Next is your bra, and you help him unclip the back as he presses soft kisses to the swell of your breasts.

"God, you're beautiful, I'm so glad I have you," Mark then takes your hands to lace your fingers with his. Slowly you sink your body back down to rest against his cock, moving your hips ever so slightly, sliding the fabric of your panties against his bare member.

"Mark," you whimper, thrusting forward a little stronger. "I really want you to…"

"To what?" Mark asked, his voice husky and his pupils blown with lust. His lips meet yours one more time. 

"Fuck me, please," 

Mark licks his lips and groans. "Just wait a little, gotta make sure.." he lets go of your hands, leaving them to rest again on his shoulders. His own trail down your sides, causing you to squirm and whimper at the touch, your skin incredibly sensitive. He soon takes a hold of your panties, sliding them down your legs. "Fuck, look, it's sticking to your underwear, that's so hot…"

You look down, and you notice a tiny string of wetness still attached to your underwear. You almost want to hide your face in the crook of Mark's shoulder, but instead, he coaxes you to stand long enough to rid your legs of your panties. 

"Look at you," he whispers, making you acutely aware that you're completely naked in front of him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you look him in the eye, straddling his lap once more and leaning against him for a quick and intimate hug. "I've just never been naked in front of anyone before."

"Me neither, it's okay," he says softly. "Can I touch you?" 

"Yes," you suck in a sharp breath as Mark trails a finger down your stomach. As soon as he reaches your crotch, you feel like you could explode into flames. You think this is the first time Mark has really hesitated, but you're fine with it. 

"Like this," you say softly, using your hand to guide his. Gathering some wetness on his fingers, you guide him to rub a few tiny circles on your clit before you let him take over.

"Good?" He asks, continuing the movement until you nod, sighing. It felt amazing that you were finally getting to some relief of the ache that's been building inside your abdomen. Soon there's another jolt of pleasure running through you as Mark slips a finger inside you. 

"Fuck, Mark," you whine, pressing your forehead to his. You can feel his breath on you, ghosting your lips against his own. Once Mark adds a second finger, you feel like his soft movements could make you cum right then and there. He's fucking you ever so slowly with his fingers that you could nearly call it torture. "Please, I think… I think I'm ready," 

"O-okay," Mark stutters for a moment, and it feels just as good when his fingers slip out. "We can go slow, right?"

"Any way you want," you answer, pecking his lips again. 

"Okay," he sighs sweetly, guiding your hips downward with one hand and lining himself up with the other. "God, I can already feel it," he whines, feeling the tip of his leaking cock nudging your entrance. "Better than what I dreamed."

Ever so slowly, you're sinking down onto him. There's a bit of a stretch and a little bit of pain, but you work through it as best you can. Mark is clenching his jaw, eyes shut tightly. His hands are gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, and his breathing has picked up to wanton panting. 

"Fuck, fuck, (Y/N), this is so good, it feels so good to be inside," His words cause you to pulse around him, making you both cry out. Without warning Mark's hips snap upward, his voice slowly groaning out more curse words, following your cry of surprise. "Fuck, I'm sorry, are you okay?"

You wince but nod at him once he opens his eyes. "Yeah, I'm okay. I think. I think we can move." 

"Okay. I want to fuck you, is that alright?" 

You nod, your face burning. You brace yourself, hands balancing on the back of the couch and gripping the soft blanket. When Mark starts to move, you can hear your wetness squelching and his accompanying quiet moans of 'fuck, that's hot.' Mark leans forward, his arms coming to broadly trap you in a hug as he slowly thrusts upward to meet with your pelvis. He presses wanton and open-mouthed kisses to your neck, and you can feel him smiling faintly every time you say his name. 

You know for sure that you've quickly given up most of your ability to hold yourself up. Even though you're full of energy and are being consumed by a swirl of wanton feelings, the constant build of pleasure in your abdomen and the contracting of your pussy around Mark every time any noise came out of him left you feeling like a ragdoll. Mark is holding you up through his hug, and because of how your chests are squished together, you can feel him breathe.

"Mark," you managed to cry out once his slow thrusts began to grow faster and more needy, "Mark, I'm close," 

"Please tell me you're gonna cum first, fuck, (Y/N), please cum first!" Mark is losing his rhythm now, crying out stuttered moans between his begging for you to cum. 

"Mark, don't stop, please… I'm gonna cum," You're unable to feel embarrassment from the obscenities leaving your mouth as the pressure that's been building inside you reaches its peak, your pussy rapidly pulsing around Mark's cock. Your eyes are rolling back as clear ecstasy washes over you, sharp spikes of pleasure eventually dulling.

"Fuck, tight, need more, fuck! Fuck, (Y/N), I'm gonna cum too, fuck, I'm cumming!" You're nearly about to begin whimpering from overstimulation before you feel Mark's cock still. It hardened even further, twitching inside of you and following it was the warmth of his cum. 

Slowly, you both come down to reality, Mark gently kissing your neck as you lay nearly limp on him, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your back. There is a clear sheen of sweat between you, and soon it becomes a little uncomfortable.

"Hey, do you think you can sit up? I need to get some stuff to get you clean," Mark's voice is calm and sweet, if not still a little ragged. 

"I think so," you manage to answer, trying your best to balance again on your knees, your whole body starting to tremble. Mark's softening cock slides out, a dollop of his cum following. Somehow, you feel less complete without him there.

"Let me help," Mark says softly, gently guiding you to lay down on the couch. Once he knows you're comfortable, he pulls on his boxers and wanders to the counter. 

You're watching him with hooded eyes as he reaches into one of the cupboards, pulling out a small pack of baby wipes, following with dampening two of the washcloths in the sink. 

"I got these on the way back last night and that's how Johnny figured out what I wanted," he said sheepishly as he came back to you, kissing you softly before kneeling down and opening up the little packet. "He had the idea of bringing that blanket." 

"I really didn't expect that to happen," you say, taking in a sharp breath when you feel coolness over your thighs as Mark cleans you up. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," he said, passing you the damp washcloth. "Just so we both don't look like we just had sex." 

You nod, taking the cloth and dabbing it over your forehead and chest. Once your fatigue begins to fade, you sit up and watch Mark sitting cross-legged on the floor, wiping away the layer of sweat from his chest. His eyes meet yours, and the way he smiles at you makes you tear up. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Mark immediately looks concerned, standing and taking a seat next to you. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course," you wipe a tear away with your hand, "I just really love you." In that moment you feel more vulnerable than you ever had in your life. Naked, scarred and crying in front of your soulmate. 

Mark's smile returns quickly, pecking a quick kiss to your cheek. "I love you, too, (Y/N)." His eyes are sparkling again, something that makes your heart ache even more, but in a good way. "Come on, let's get you dressed." 

Soon he is standing again, coaxing you to join him. He helps you slip your underwear back on, making an idle comment and bearing a giant grin when he realizes that there really are Avengers characters on the butt of your panties.

Mark takes extra care in making sure you were comfortable and your bra was sitting properly on your chest. He blew raspberries on your tummy, grinning as you laughed. Honestly, the thought that should have been in your mind was completely dismissed in the sweet moments of Mark helping you get dressed. 

"Now I'm hungry," you say as you finish putting on your shortalls, laughter on your lips, pretending to pout at Mark as he slips on his shirt, tucking it tightly back into his pants. 

Mark nods, "yeah, me too. We can get some food in the green room. Here, you have a twisty strap," Mark approaches you once more and unclips one of your overall buttons, straightening out the strap and smoothing it along your shoulder. "There, all better." 

"Thank you," you look back over the room, noticing a backpack that wasn't yours sitting next to the couch. "Is that yours?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah. After the show, I'm gonna come back here to grab it. I just have to fold the blanket and put away the washcloths." 

"I can help you," you say, turning around go grab the blanket and fold it, but Mark gently takes your hand to stop you once you try to reach for the backpack to stuff it inside.

"It's okay, you can help me after. We should get something to eat now," Mark is smiling fondly at you, nodding toward the door. Huffing a tiny sigh you agree, putting the folded blanket down on the couch and following him to slip on your shoes, grab your lanyard and backpack, heading out the door.

[pagingevilspawn]

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter seven

i actually hate this, so ew. but i’ve forgotten that i write, so i’ll try to type some stuff up tomorrow! regardless, i hope everyone enjoys! click here to read on ao3. 

TW// domestic abuse

~*~

"small town boy in a big arcade. i got addicted to a losing game."

~*~

alexandra: you do realize how crazy that sounds right?

joseph: it's not crazy at all if you ask me.

alexandra: jo, asking for lollipops for your christmas present sounds very crazy to me.

and christmas isn't for like, a while.

joseph: dude, christmas is in two weeks and one day

and plus, i'm settling on lollipops. what i really want is a pony, a shiny, pretty one with rainbow hair, you know those? that's my dream right there

alexandra: oh crap really?

yeah yeah, ha ha. laughing so much right now.

joseph: hate to break it to you, but it's the 10th alex.

and i know, what a shame i wont be able to have my pony. it was at the top of my list this year

next to an ice cream sundae the size of manhattan, obviously.

alexandra: very funny. can't you tell how much i'm laughing.

crap, got to go, robbins is letting me in on an esophageal atresia on a newborn. i'm her favorite you know.

joseph: ugh, lucky.

make sure to kick ass and not kill anyone. that would suck. 

actually... your big head could use some ego deflating. make sure robbins has to save you halfway through. maybe then you'll earn some humility.  

alexandra: wow, you're such great help. so nice too.

joseph: you know it ;)

she turns off her phone, a small smile on her face as she looks out the window, passing by houses that all looked exactly alike; white exteriors with a bright green lawn. the only thing that could help someone tell them apart was the door colors. her and paul had just come back from a dinner with some of his coworkers, but he wasn't talking to her so she decided to text alex. the silence in the car was tense, though she was unable to grasp the reason why.

they'd been texting non-stop since the conference three weeks ago, talking about each other's days, complaining about annoying coworkers and classmates. they really enjoyed having a friend they could just talk to because they felt like it. it was refreshing. they'd never had anyone like that before. in the past they had friends that they felt comfortable around, but it was different when you had someone who understood you so well. not to mention, being able to make self deprecating jokes about their crappy childhoods and receive a laugh in response was so much nicer than the pity stares they were both so used to getting,

she snaps back to reality at the sound of the engine turning off, cutting the music as the expensive car door opens. she sees paul angrily walk out of the car, slamming the door behind him, not stopping by her side of the car to open the door for her like he normally did. (she was actually thankful for that. she was a grown women, she could open a damn door herself)

weird, she thinks, but decides not to question it. her husband had been a bit more moody and temperamental lately, so she supposed it was just that. but the dinner seemed to go really good in her opinion. she got along with his colleagues and paul certainly enjoyed himself, getting to be around all his coworkers and interact freely. she liked to think that his colleagues liked her as well. they complimented her all evening and included her in all of their conversations. though, she did wish that they would've referred to her by her name more, rather than 'mrs. stalder' or 'paul's wife.'

she gets out of the passenger side and shuts the door behind her, walking up to the steps after she hears that paul had locked the car. she places the small clutch she had on the entry table and walks to the kitchen, seeing paul sitting at the kitchen island, nothing in front of him except tea that he had heated up in the minute or so he'e been in there. she kisses his cheek and starts talking, knowing that it would probably help calm whatever he was feeling.

she gives him a smile, rubbing his shoulder affectionately. "it seemed like the dinner went really well, all of your coworkers are super nice and-"

"you talked to steven too much." he cuts her off, sending an icy glare her way, and look she had never seen on him before shining darkly in his eyes.

she cocks her head to the side, "huh?"

he stands up from his place abruptly, making her jump back slightly. "i said," he spits out, eyes narrowing as he stares her down "you talked to steven too much."

she lets out a loud laugh, thinking that he was just joking around and messing with her. at any second he was going to join her giggling, ignoring the way his eyes had only seemed to darken the second the sounds had escaped her mouth."oh, that's funny." she says in between laughs, eyes shining with childish glee. "jesus you really scared m-"

pain.

her words get cut off by a fist coming directly into contact with her face. she feels the stinging sensation burn from her eye to her cheek, her brown eyes watering with tears as she realizes what had just happened. she lifts a palm up to touch it protectively, almost making it seem like it was more real if she touched it.

oh god, it hurt. it hurt like hell. his gold wedding band adding to the impact was sure to leave a scar by the corner of her eye. she'd been punched before, multiple times actually by foster parents and girls while she was in high school, but this hurt so much more. it was so much harder than she'd ever been hit before.

her husband just hit her.

"oh brooke, baby." paul says, taking her into his arms and brushing her hair back immediately, trying to get her to relax into his embrace. "i just got so mad. you just made me so mad brooke. you can't make me mad like that" he tells her, eyes dripping with some kind of emotion she can't place as he places light kisses on top of her sea of brown curls, ignoring the way the way she stood stiffly in his arms, a few lone tears making it's way down her cheeks.  

"i love you. you know that brooke" he whispers, wiping the tears from her face, his hands feeling usually rough against her skin, his touch not easing over the bruise that hard already begun to form.

she nods. it was okay. he loved her. he didn't mean it. he just got angry. it was okay. it was fine. he loved her, it was okay.

she thought she probably deserved it. after all she'd cheated on her husband just three weeks before, and had continued to keep in contact with the man she had cheated with. it was only karma.  

"i'm sorry paul." she apologizes sincerely as he cups her face in his hands, giving her a sweet smile. it wasn't his fault. it was hers.  

"it just better not happen again." he states, eyes burning into hers intently, his grip on her face tightening without her even realizing it. all she really felt was numb, as if all of her senses had seemingly shut down to avoid dealing with the pain that was spreading throughout the side of her face.

she nods her head up and down as she pulls her back into him. "i'm sorry" she whispers into his chest.

he smiled.

and that's when he knew he had her.

____

alex finished scrubbing out of a surgery, shaking off the excess water on his hands, grinning internally. it was always so much better when he was able to help save a kid. the success was just that much more fulfilling. he's about to push the door open when it swings in itself, making him come face to face with cristina, the expression she was wearing was more worried looking than he'd seen in a long time. he'd known yang for a while know, and he knew whatever was about to come out of her mouth would be bad. cristina yang was never worried.

"what do you want yang?" he asks, noting how she had her hands crossed over her chest and was avoiding his gaze.

"there's a merger happening." she says, looking up to meet his eyes to let him know that she was serious.

his narrows his eyes, scrunching up his nose. "what?" he questions. a merger? as in, combing two hospitals into one?  

"you just missed the announcement. apparently we're merging with mercy west." the raven head repeats, a slight trace of fear in her voice, a very unusual thing for cristina yang.

he lets out a deep breath, tugging his scrub cap off and running a hand through his hair as he leans over the scrub sink, gripping it so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white. "i can't loose this job yang." he says to her softly, making her nod in agreement.

"you and me both." with that she walks out of the room, alex not far behind her, both of the surgeons heading up to the resident's lounge to change, which was filled to the brim with chatter, all of the doctors talking about the newest topic, the merger.

meredith sits down next to him, slipping a long sleeved purple shirt over her head when she casts a glance to alex, who was sitting still looking down at his phone's empty screen, seemingly deep in thought, almost as if he was waiting for something to magically appear on it.

the blonde nudges him, snapping him out of his trance. alex sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he buries his head in his hands. "what am i gonna do about iz?" he asks her, judging by her face that she was drawing a blank, much like him.

jesus, this was great. these past few weeks he had hardy been able to look his wife in the eye, because every time he saw her he was reminded that he slept with someone else. not to mention, he was just texting that certain someone just a few hours ago. he was really screwed. izzie had currently been home on bedrest, not being allowed to return to work until two weeks from now, which apparently would also be when the mercy westers would turn up. fucking great. he felt as if the universe was rallying against him at this point, no matter how much he knew that wasn't possible. he dug his own grave, it was just a matter of time before he would need to lay in it.

"she'll be okay." meredith reassures him, but he can tell by the look on her face that she was unsure as well. who knew would end up getting cut? they would need to pull their heads out of their asses and prove that they deserved to stay. none of them could lose their spot. not only because of their job, but also because of the people there. they were a family. they couldn't lose any more of their family. they'd just lost george, and they couldn't lose another.

"evil spawn, put on a shirt!" cristina yells, balling up a shirt from his locker and throwing it at him, hitting him square in the chest as he glares at her. he pulls on the shirt silently and heads out, not bothering to say goodbye to anybody as he leaves the lounge and heads straight to joe's across the street.

he slides onto a barstool, ordering a beer and thanking the bartender with a slight nod of his head. how was he supposed to tell izzie about the merger? he knew that if his wife knew, she would want to return to work immediately, but he knew she couldn't do that. she was still getting her strength back, and standing around on her feet all day surely would delay the healing process. he couldn't risk her getting hurt because he wasn't able to stop her.

he'd done enough recently, even if izzie didn't know about most of it. the last thing he needed was to cause his wife more harm than he already had.

he was going to tell her, he knew that, just not right now. right now he was going to sit on this uncomfortable wooden bar stool and drink his beer and forget he had any problems. he was going to forget about the merger, he was going to forget about him and izzie going at it twenty-four seven, and he was definitely going to forget about the brunette with a fake name who seemed to be on his mind all the time.

he was just going to forget everything, his only focus being his beer and the football game on the small television above the bar. yeah, that sounded like a good idea. a really good idea.

____

okay, so he forgot about two out of those three things.

he was actually doing pretty good for a while, almost a full hour with nearly a beer and a half finished. all he had been focused on was the seahawks playing against the steelers, with the steelers crushing the seattle team thirty-four to seven. not much of a surprise though, he couldn't remember the last time he'd witnessed the seahawks win. it wasn't that they were a completely crap team, it was simply the fact that one; the steelers were much better this year, and two; he hardly ever got enough time to sit down and watch a game. being a resident drained the life out of him, especially since he had finally knew that he wanted to specialize in peds. when he wasn't at the hospital he was reading up new medical procedures in magazines, or occasionally sneaking over to meredith's to watch old ellis grey tapes.  

he was doing really... until he got a text message from jo.

joseph: how was your surgery?

alexandra: wow, you must be bored.

joseph: ...

what makes you say that?

alexandra: really?

joseph: i'm in med school, thank you very much. i have a severe interest in your surgeries. 

alexandra: mhm, sure.

joseph: fine, i'm bored. entertain me. please.

alexandra: that sounds vaguely dirty.

joseph: oh great. how drunk are you?

alexandra: what makes you say that?

haha, two can play that game.

joseph: i'm guessing two beers in?

alexandra: shut up, only one and a half.

joseph: mhm, wasn't too far off

but seriously. i'm bored and am in need of anything remotely interesting. you just scrubbed in on a super cool surgery, i want details

alexandra: fine, baby maria duboir, two weeks old, robbins let me lead the procedure about half way through, coded once, we then shocked her at 150, and now she is stable and in the NICU.

happy?

joseph: yes. very much so

although i do think your OR stories need work

you sound like you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about

alexandra

wow. you're a real delight you know that?

joseph: oh, believe me, i know. don't even get me started on how many times people have complimented how freaking amazing i am

it's quite a common occurrence.  

if i had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, i'd be living on my own private island

alexandra: i bet you would.

seriously though, tell me something. i've got nothing better to do than watch the seahawks get crushed.

joseph: i'm guessing that's sports talk, so i'm just gonna ignore that, since it hate any sport where men look like giant block of cheese, run around a court, or just run in general.

but today's been boring. went to a dinner tonight. fancy stuck-up rich people who laugh with posh accents and sip their champagne way too slowly

fucking turtles.

alexandra: sounds fun.

joseph: you suck. i can literally hear the sarcasm through the phone asshole

alexandra: that's the point. i'll take a sick kid over fancy dinner any day.

crap, that sounded really horrible didn't it?

joseph: it really did

"i'll take a sick kid over a fancy dinner any day" real charming if you ask me. night in shining amour.

alexandra

yeah yeah you know what i mean.

____

they're not sure how long they end up talking for, alex siting at joe's bar and jo lounging on the couch in her living room while her husband was in his study going over and grading tests for one of his classes. before either one of them even know it, it gets to be twelve thirty boston time and nine thirty in seattle. alex's texts had gotten much harder to read, which made sense, considering he was now on his third beer.

jo teased him about it though, finding it more enjoyable than she would've guessed to text a drunk alex than a sober one. he seemed to get increasingly flirtier the tipsier he got. not to mention, all the spelling mistakes he made was definitely one for the books. she had a feeling that it was getting a but harder for him to see which letters where which, considering a few b's were located where there should be d's, and 'm' where they should be an 'n'

alex knows for a fact he's earning many stares from fellow people at the bar because of how much he's laughing (loudly too), but he doesn't really care. if he's gonna laugh, he's gonna laugh. all he could really focus on was the fluorescent lights hanging from the bar's wood ceiling and the frankly hilarious texts coming through his phone. (okay, so they weren't that funny, but everything is always a lot more funny when you're drunk)

jo was thoroughly enjoying herself, laughing more and more as she sank into the couch, completely forgetting about the bruise on her left cheek as she typed away, grinning from ear to ear when the man on the other side responded, words misspelt and random numbers and semicolons popping up from time to time.

they knew that what they had done was wrong. they knew that what they were doing was wrong. but they couldn't stop.

if only they had stopped sooner.

[barnesandco]

Sunshine is Honey in the Mouths of Birds who have Tasted Cages

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Smut, so please be 18 or older. I will block you if you aren't.

A/N: This is my first smut one shot, and the first piece I've ever done with detailed smut generally, so please let me know what you think; I could use some constructive feedback. Also, I’d be over the moon if you would reblog - thank you so much for your support!

You bite your lip in concentration as you work on the third-to-last buckle on the jacket of his tac suit, leather scraping rough against your hands, but the smile in his eyes as he watches you undress him is cotton-soft clouds, stroking your cheek as gently as his hands on your hips. A watery chuckle escapes him as you shake your head and blink back your own tears when the jacket falls open to reveal the compression shirt he wears underneath, and you lean against his chest, dazed smile pressed into his sternum.

Bucky lowers his head so his nose brushes your hairline, murmuring his next words straight into your nervous system, setting your neurons alight the way only he can.

" 'M not sure how I thought you'd react, but this definitely wasn't it, doll." 

"I just-" Another shake of your head, this time in equal parts of disbelief and awe, nuzzled into his chest, a huff of laughter. "-I know we've talked about it, and you said you were going to, but now that it's finally happening, I don't know what to say." Your voice breaks at the end, surprise and joy bursting at its seams. "You're retiring." It's a question, a half-doubt, that when repeated once more, and then twice, sounds like a promise rolling off your tongue.

The orange pinks of the incoming sunset pierce the room to set his eyes on fire, smoldering oceans when you finally push back to look at him. The room holds its breath when he smiles, but your first tear takes the chance to escape the corner of your eye, allows itself to be recaptured by his thumb as he lifts his hands to cradle your face. His hand rests in the crook of your neck like a sparrow in its favorite branch, warm and content, finally home.

"I am, baby, I am," he confirms, before leaning down to seal his mouth over yours, warmth thrumming beneath your skin. His other hand stay on your hips while yours rise to push the jacket off his shoulder. The light thump with which the Stark-engineered leather lands on the carpet in your bedroom is drowned out by the whimper released from your mouth, and his responding growl. He tastes like peppermint and ash, fresh from a mission and exhaling cold against you as he forces himself to release your waist, your face. 

"I need a shower, darlin'. Don't want to celebrate all sweaty," he whispers, and you want to tell him you don't give half a damn - he can smell like sweat and gunpowder all he wants as long as he's home - but you know he's never at ease after a mission until he's had all the grime of it cleaned from him, physically and then emotionally. So you nod instead, following him to the bathroom, choosing not to mention his comment about celebrating, even as the excitement heats your insides and your imagination.

The world goes quiet, and then roars with the sound of the shower as you turn it on, then reaching to peel Bucky's shirt from his form. A sigh is released - heavy and quick, like a July breeze - as he traces your neck with his lips, while your hands shake to remove his pants. Steam is damp on your lips when he leans to plant his lips on yours once more, simultaneously tugging at the sleeves of your nightgown, the silk pooling at your feet, cool mercury against your ankles.

You step into the spray of shower, hot for summer, but just right to soothe your husband's likely aching bones, his weary face. The wrinkles seem to evaporate from his forehead as the water hits his shoulders, and he reaches for you, guiding you to stand chest to chest, heart to heart. A wet kiss, interrupted by the streams of water, is laid on your forehead, his hands soothingly traversing your back and waist, his wedding band a cool reprieve from the searing cocoon you're enveloped in.

Fear that your heart might just burst with the intensity of your love for him stabs at your chest, before you push it away with another smile at yourself and reach for shower gel and a loofah. The soapy suds glide across his body when you move your hand in circular motions, starting at his torso, taking care to trace every scar as it is made visible after the foam clears. His skin tenses, goosebumps erupting, and a kiss for gratitude every time.

You giggle at the last one and he nips at your bottom lip, and then your neck, laughing in between. Pretending to be stern, you waggle the shampoo bottle at him like a scolding finger, furthering his amusement. 

"Enough funny business, Barnes," you tell him, and he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and bumping your forehead with his own when he gives an exaggerated nod. 

"Yes, ma'am," and your lungs do a funny dance, your diaphragm struggling with the breath you were about to take. His blinding smirk is a surefire tell that he knows exactly what he's doing.

"I need to wash your hair," you say, reminding him of the bottle still in your hands, and he steps back before dropping to his knees, taking the loofah with him. 

"Thought I'd wash your legs while I'm down here," He says in answer to your raised eyebrows, and you quell the urge to tell him his hands on your legs are not most conducive to keeping you on your feet. Instead, you begin to wash his hair, letting the leather wash away stolen remains of rubble and stone, blood and dirt. No more of that, you think happily. He's home now. 

And he's very much at home too, comfortably sliding his hands up and down your legs to wash away the soap hands tracing patterns on your calves, your shins. You swallow a whimper when he traces the first letter of his name on your thigh. Try to focus on washing out the last of the shampoo as he replaces his fingers with his thumb. The only thing in his hair now is your fingers, clenching and stroking, when his mouth locates the peachy flesh at the apex of your thighs. 

The color of the sky during summer sunsets is no warmer than this sacred space between your legs, the feeling he delivers when he moves just so, and God, you need to rest back on the tiles - a cool reprieve - as he opens you up to him, lifting a leg over his shoulder. Held up by one trembling leg, his vibranium hand on your waist, and the strength of that surge of pleasure, you bite back a growl.

"Jesus, you're delicious, baby," he slurs against you, lust-drunk and lost in the taste of you, the feel of your soft sweetness on his tongue, honey and sunshine and ocean saltwater all in one. His movements quicken as your breath shortens, a mewling cry let loose in the throes of your climax when he suckles on your sensitive bud. Fireworks behind your eyelids, it feels like a stampede of horses are racing across your ribs when he rises and gives you a kiss. The taste of you is tangy and sweet on his lips, a beautiful contrast with the rough scrape of his stubble.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He teases with a quirk of his kiss-swollen lips, and you resist the urge to kiss that smug expression off. This silence gives him more material. "Speechless, huh? I know I'm good but not that g-" You silence him with your lips on his, turning off the shower and pulling him out, wet limbs tangling and slipping against each other as you exit. Just barely managing to grab a couple of towels off the rack before he cages you against the sink with his arm on either side of you, you gasp as he layers your neck with weighted, wet kisses. A shock to your nerves in the form of a suckle on your pulse point, a scrape of teeth below your ear. A tingle down your spine as you feel his erection against your hip, and you've only just taken him in your hand when he exhales a growl infused with a sigh, dropping his head on your shoulder.

Your nimble hands are soft and delicate, loving and wanting, feathers over brick, bringing him ever closer to insanity and blissful heaven. But he doesn't let you take him all the way, only allowing a few minutes of a lover's caress before pushing off the sink, and taking one of the towels from your hands. He wraps you in it before draping the other across his shoulders and back. It falls off halfway from the bathroom door to the foot of your bed as he carries you to it. Skin is still shower-damp and crisp tingles litter every part of your body that his mouth touched, but all of that is forgotten when he lays you down and strips you of your towel, covering you with his body instead.

You have a perfect view like this, the last remains of the sunset giving him a rose-gold halo that you disrupt by pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. Bucky rests on his elbows, watching you like he is content to do just that for the rest of his days. 

"I can't believe it's over," He tells you, hot breath fanning over you as he leans further down, just toeing the line between going cross-eyed. Your second hand joins the first, caressing Bucky's face, tracing his laugh lines, letting a pinky rest in the divot of his chin, coming to rest with both hands on either side of his face, his warm smile tangible beneath your palms. 

"I'm happy for you, Buck," You say, and he lowers his body, pressing his every edge into your every crevice, and vice versa, nudging your nose aside to whisper again, lips rasping against yours, eyes closed. He smells of soap and citrus now, clean and warm, content and so very Bucky.

"I'm happy for us," he answers, and then the impatience must surge in him as much as it does you, because he captures your lips in a kiss that curls your toes and lifts your legs to bracket his hips. 

Bucky's hardness is more pressing now, heavy and warm against you as he rocks his hips to the rhythm of your pasps in between kisses. Gasps turn to moans, crystal clear reflecting the bubbling occurring below your navel when his fingers glide up the inside of your thighs to the spot that makes you bite your lip till you draw blood. And you almost do, but he captures your lips with his own again, swallows the resounding whimper elicited by his fingers twisting just so. Crescent-moon shapes indent his flesh bicep and a small, purple mark begins to form beneath your teeth at his collarbone as you do something, anything, to stem the overflow of pleasure he is releasing.

Something gives you the presence of mind to lift your hand from his shoulder and reach for his hair, look up to where he is watching you beneath hooded eyes and widened pupils.

"I want you," you inform candidly, pushing up to press a kiss against him. "Now, please," you add for good measure, pushing at his shoulders and he smiles, yielding to turn and lie under you. 

Straddling his hips, sitting up, you need to take a deep breath, this time from the awe of the breathtaking sight before you. The contentment of bliss, the release he has found, it's written all over him and it's an expression you want carved into your heart as much he wants to keep it on him. Your husband has been a selfless man, repaying debts for crimes he never committed, and now he's decided that the past has been compensated for. That his life is finally his own, that he is home, and the only duty he has now is to you.

He smiles up at you like you're the sun itself, nods, speaks to you in that wordless language only the two of you share, that the two of you created. So you align your warmth with his, and sink down, taking him in whole. The gasp is torn from your chest harmonizes with his groan, and you rest your hands on your chest. Lean forward - sharp inhale as he goes deeper - and your hair curtains the pair of your from the world. One kiss, and you start moving.

His hand comes up to caress your breasts, metal finger circling nipples until you whimper again, lifting your hand to press him harder to you, the other linking with his flesh one at your hip. An electric current travels up your spine when he pushes harder, smiles softer, all contradictions and beautiful mix ups. Bucky is starshine and sunflowers underneath you, his lust-hazed eyes clear enough to shine. His hands guide you over him, rolling waves and butterfly flutters everywhere inside of you, and you kiss him again. 

He tastes of sunbeams and ecstasy, tongue sweeping your mouth to memorize the feel of you on his lips, and you remind him again - in that language of lovers, with silent words - that he has all the time in the world for you. As long as he wants. Hours, days, weeks. Years. But the peak is impending; it cannot be held off much longer, and so he sits up against the headboard. Grunts to go deeper, stroke that secret spot nobody else has ever found.

"Bucky," you cry, when his hand finds your pearl of nerves, the rush of sensation sparkling like a fourth of July. His name is a catalyst, an aphrodisiac, and it gives him the push he needs to topple you both over the cliff and into the abyss, groans whimpered into each other's mouths, and hands sliding over lust-sodden bodies for something to hold onto as the world flips. You come back to earth slowly, and then plunge into it, opening your eyes like you've never seen such beauty, like he is a new galaxy in your arms.

"I love you, honey," he says, cupping your face tenderly, as if to hold flower petals. 

"I love you, too," you reply simply, moving to get under the covers, head resting on his chest. You can hear his heart racing under your ear as you look out the window. The sun has set fully, but yours is here with you, warm and alive, sweet and home.

Taglist: @suz-123​ @mermaidxatxheart​ @buckyreaderrecs​ @shield-agent78​ @corneliabarnes​ @stevieboyharrington​ @notsomellowmushroom​ @veganfangirl5​ @mood-pancakes​ @lbuck121​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @geeksareunique​

[bigbrotherlouis]

the bag of chips scene from 'i ate you up the day we first spoke' for the director's cut meme!

whoohoo i actually loved writing this scene and i’m so glad someone asked about it yeeee

(director’s cut meme)

everything eases back into normal. tk picks nolan up for practice, because nolan’s car is inexplicably always out of gas, (this is true, i read an article about it somewhere) and ties nolan’s ties for him on game days, and follows him into his living room to eat all the good snacks nolan hides on increasingly higher shelves.

“how did you even get those?” he asks when he comes out of the washroom and finds travis eating illegal all-dressed his mom had sent down in his last care package. he’s pretty sure they were hidden, like, on top of the cupboards this time. he literally had to throw them up there. (food, when you move countries, is a really big deal. i always want to keep the mutlicultural aspect of a lot of hockey players in mind, because i was a young multicutural person in the united states, and home foods is usually a good way to do it. all-dressed are pretty distinctly canadian, and my cousin gets her parents to send them to her in california, so i borrowed that from her. also i liked the image of TK climbing on the counters to try and get at a bag of chips.)

tk shrugs and crams a handful of chips into his mouth. “smart thinking.”

“those are mine.”

“i don’t see you eating them,” tk says smugly and nolan thinks about it for precisely point two seconds before he launches himself at the sofa. (no thoughts, head empty)

it’s a familiar ritual, this one. tk cackles, going limp so he can noodle off the cushions onto the floor, the bag still clamped in his hand. he scrabbles backwards until he’s out of reach of nolan’s admittedly long arms.

“sucks to suck, babe,” he gloats, except nolan is not emphatically giving up, those are his chips, and he’s not going to let his idiot of a best friend eat them all. tk grunts when nolan lands on his lower half, hard, and pins down his legs so he can’t escape. he sits on tk’s knees and ignores the yelling. (travis “has never shut up once in his life” konecny strikes again)

“mine,” he says savagely, snatching the bag out of his hands. tk huffs, shoving at his legs.

“it’s rude— not to— share— fuck, patty, what are you doing in the gym?”

“some of us don’t skip leg day.”

“yeah, well, some of us aren’t built like a fuckin’ ox,” tk complains, as if he’s not just as in shape as nolan is. “i can’t even fuckin’ pinch you because you’re wearing jeans.”

“now who’s the smart think—  fuck!” (not you, pat. not tk either but still not you.) he shouts, flinching and rubbing at his side. that pinch is definitely going to bruise. tk uses it as a distraction to roll them, nolan’s shoulders thudding painfully against the floor, and straddles nolan’s stomach with his thighs. there’s another struggle but tk gets hold of nolan’s arms, pins them under his knees so nolan’s fists are at his sides. he’s effectively trapped. (too many nolans but what do you do when writing m/m. also this isn’t specific to this scene, but especially in hockey with all its nicknames, i like to write people’s internal narrative with whatever name they probably think of themselves as. that’s why nolan isn’t pat/patty here, and why tk is usually not travis)

“still me,” tk says, grinning at him with undisguised glee. he works the chips free and sits up, putting his weight just under nolan’s ribs so all the breath gets knocked out of him for a second.

“fucker,” nolan hisses, trying and failing to wriggle his way out. “what the fuck, teeks?”

“that’s what you get for not growing up with brothers, bro. gotta fight to survive. survival skills.”

“bud, you don’t even know. sisters have nails and they’re not fucking afraid to use them,” nolan says, his best murder glare in effect. he probably still has the scars in some places. (i know i do) tk snorts.

“sorry, i don’t see you scratching me here,” he says.  

“let me go and i’ll scratch you up real good,” he threatens and then his brain catches up with his mouth, his face going red as he realises what he’s maybe implied. “uh.”

tk doesn’t take the obvious chirp, just raises an eyebrow. there’s a considering look on his face, one that makes nolan want to squirm more and it settles somewhere down deep in his stomach. (so i wrote this scene because i needed a turn for both of them, relationship-wise. iirc, there’s been a few places where tk’s interest might be noticeable, but nothing super concrete for pat or for the reader. meanwhile, on tk’s side, he needed clear signals that pat’s into him before he tries to tell him again.)

“uh,” he says again because his brain is just fucking offline and his arms are still locked under travis’ legs and travis burns hot because nolan can feel it against his skin, through his t-shirt, and this is all going to get incredibly, incredibly awkward in about three seconds. (unfortunately, i love a good run-on sentence to build tension) he’s pretty sure popping a boner because a teammate is sitting on you is, like, not something you can get away with by laughing.

tk shifts, sitting up the tiniest bit, and reaches out the hand that’s not currently occupied with the fuckin’ chips— probably all crushed to hell now, anyway (foreshadowing!! also strategic last mention here so we know that tk is still holding them, and then they aren’t mentioned until the shoe drops for optimal dramatic effect) — and brushes his fingers against nolan’s cheek. he traces the blush from his cheekbone carefully down his neck, pausing to thumb at his jaw, and then bumps his fingers against his collar, where it disappears down into his shirt. (i really liked building the tension here. also this is fully just projection bc i would love to touch patty’s blush once in my life)

“you’re glowing, pat,” he says, so soft, and it makes nolan go redder. he glowers at a spot by tk’s ear, unwilling to look him in the face and see whatever is written there. (would tk actually tell nolan he’s glowing? probably not, but fictionally it gives the reader a good picture of what nolan looks like to someone else. i didn’t want to overuse red-- which didn’t quite feel like a strong enough word-- or blush, so glowing it was.) tk hooks his index into the collar and there’s a moment when nolan thinks he’s going to pull it down, see if his blush goes all the way down his chest— it does, if he’s embarrassed enough. it’s fucking terrible— and he turns his head away, dragging in a breath through his nose. he’s, like, so incredibly fucked that he can’t even think about it without going dizzy. (you’ll probably see this a lot if you look for it in my writing, but i like to add in a “like” or something similarly bro-ish when things get particularly emotionally fraught, to keep it more realistic. also i think it’s funny. anyway, i like the contrast of tk not being able to take his eyes away from something he wanted and nolan not being able to look at it. characterisation, wahey!) it’s better to just not look.

of course, it’s the exact opposite of what tk wants.

“hey,” he says. “look at me.”

nolan refuses, a muscle ticking in his jaw. (this is hot to me idc) tk lets go of his collar to pull on his hair instead, just a little tug of a piece by his ear, and nolan can’t quite bite back the punched-out sound that he lets out. (also hot.)

“look at me,” tk says again, an edge to his voice, and nolan does. tk won’t stop until he does, he knows that well enough. (another look at their dynamic and how well they know each other) he lifts his chin, just a tiny bit, because he’s not going to do anything without a fight. tk’s hand tightens in his hair and it keeps him in place, nailed— ha— to the floor. (i write for the people whose brains make inappropriate jokes at the wrong moments) he couldn’t move if he wanted to, watches helplessly as tk leans down.

the hope in his chest is so thick, nolan thinks it might actually smother him, stop his heart. he’s breathing fast and shallow, almost on the verge of panting, and jesus fuck, isn’t that embarrassing. he’s so desperate, he could squirm with it and he briefly remembers travis months ago, writhing on his very rug and how much nolan wanted to help. he can smell snow again, sharp in the back of his nose. (this does the double work of calling back to an earlier scene-- ya girl loves a good callback-- and also building the anticipation some more. the snow reference reminds the reader that this is still a werewolf au, even in the midst of this. also, once when i was like fifteen, i read something about how to write kisses/romance and it talked about picking one or two aspects of the kiss to focus on-- breathing, hands, the feeling of someone’s mouth, etc. i still use that advice.)

tk shifts his weight and nolan has enough time to think holy fuck, is this happening? before travis fucking konecny upends the bag of all dressed-flavoured crumbs all over his face. (OKAY a lot going on here! it’s one of my favourite moments, really. first of all, here’s the resolution of all the chips talk! sure, i could’ve just abandoned them, but the subverting of expectations was a lot more fun and the story still wasn’t quite ready for them to kiss yet. second, this is tk chickening out. he had two choices and he chose violence. or, like, the buddies option, which is amusing to me because this is not buddies, boys. finally, the full name was necessary to convey nolan’s disappointment and anger, as was the full description of the chips. nolan is upset, and he’s going to notice these things, and that shows up in his internal narrative.)

“got ‘em,” he crows over nolan’s sputtering, letting himself get bucked off onto the floor. nolan wipes furiously at his face, all his feelings a confusing mix of horny and angry and confused, all with the thick overtone of humiliation.

“you’re a fucking dick,” he says and it’s flat, but tk is gloating too much to care. (he’s not, he’s trying to cover, but nolan’s too embarrassed to realise)

“you should’ve seen your face, pat.”

nolan glares daggers at the carpet, the chips spread out everywhere. it’s going to be a bitch to clean up. tk had better help. (makes sure the punch landed, and to give a final resolution.)

he leans against the sofa and waits for tk to tire himself out, listening to the laughter and trying not to get too angry or, like, cry. his neck feels hot, prickling uneasily. he rubs at it with his hand, startles when tk kicks him gently in the ankle. (in order for tk to not come out of this looking like an asshole, i needed him to make up his obliviousness by being observant in other times. and in order for tk to notice patty being mad, i needed to give patty actions that could be noticed, like not laughing along with the joke)

“sorry if i made you mad,” tk says quietly, all the giggles finally worked out of him. “you looked tense (no shit bud) and i thought it would make you laugh.”

it’s not tk’s fault nolan thought he was gonna, like, kiss him. (”like” again, to break up a too-honest moment) it was a dick move but tk doesn't have a cruel bone in his body, so: “it’s fine,” he mumbles and shrugs his shoulder. “it was funny.”

tk preens for a second. “i know.”

“you owe me a bag now.”

“i’ll buy you a family-sized pack. i’m sure they’ll ship it down here, amazon or ups or somethin’.” (patty’s attempting to be normal and tk is attempting to make amends.)

nolan nods and scratches at his face, tipping his head against the couch cushions. (little motions like him scratching his face aren’t super necessary for like plot or development, but it helps humanize characters and i like to add them in whenever i can, as long as it’s not overkill. they can also be helpful in pointing to emotional state without directly saying it.) it’s quiet for a few seconds, just the sound of them breathing heavier than usual, and it would be so normal. should be normal, by all counts, but nolan still kind of wants to crawl into a hole for while. wants to push tk out of the apartment and eat ice cream and google ‘how to stop a crush,’ like his sisters used to do when they were upset. he’s already googled it, a few days ago, and there was nothing but maybe someone’s offered good advice since then. (people make an impact on you, and family even more so, and i always like reminders of how close nolan seems to be with his sisters. also, it’s funny.)

tk flicks him on the wrist. (this is something that tk does consistently through the story, and even though it’s not super important to this scene, it establishes a behaviour in the larger story. that’s important too!)

“pat,” he says and it sounds it’s not the first time. nolan blinks.

“yeah?”

“i just asked you if you were hungry.”

“oh. uh. no, not really,” he answers truthfully. tk wrinkles his nose.

“do you, like, have anything in your fridge to eat?”

“mm, probably not.”

“typical,” tk mutters under his breath, as if he ever has anything regularly stocked besides protein powder and bacon. (protein rich foods that are easy to eat after a full moon, or after a workout) at least nolan has eggs pretty consistently. (also a protein rich food that’s less easy to eat after a full moon, but are easy to make when you aren’t a werewolf) “wanna go get sushi?”

nolan thinks about it. shoves his sweaty hair behind his ear and considers going out to their favourite place and pretending he’s not still fucking mortified. and, like, a little turned on. it makes him nauseous. (i get such physical reactions to emotional things that i write everyone into having them) 

“no,” he says. he’s not facing tk but he can still see him deflate, his shoulders hunching over. “i don’t— no.”

“okay. that’s… okay.”

“i think i’m getting a migraine,” lies nolan. “think i’m just gonna lay down.”

“do you need me to stay with you? keep you company?”

nolan’s shaking his head before tk even finishes the thought. “no, trav. i’m fine, i promise.” (the trav here works as a signal that something isn’t right! it’s why tk looks at him for so long in the next line.)

tk studies him for a long minute, his eyes searching the side of patty’s face presented to him. nolan keeps his expression as blank as possible and stares hard at his feet.

“text me if you need anything,” he says finally, the words coming out slow and gentle. it’s a lot to handle. “i’ll come back.”

“i know. i will.” he won’t, but that’s not for tk to know. he doesn’t move when tk goes out the door, squeezes his eyes shut when the door doesn’t slam into its frame, (tk’s taking care of him, still!) and decides to leave the pile of crumbs to deal with later. (the climax of this scene happened a while ago so this is another little reminder of what happened, just so it’s solidified in the reader’s head after the longish comedown. i end scenes a LOT like this-- two actions, and then a callback-- because they’re simple and effective, and usually sound great!)  /fin

ahh thank you so much for asking!! this was really fun to, like, process through and remember my logic for! i was actually really nervous writing this scene, because i knew the tension and the break had to be PERFECT for it to land right. but i do like how it turned out so at least there’s that. ily!!

[goatbi]

Deep Dark Sea Chapter Six

For a moment, the two of them stared at each other in silence, Bubby kneeling next to the pool, and the mantis shrimp poking his head out of the water, staring up at him. He couldn’t think of what to say here, just staring at that wonderful green. The mantis shrimp seemed to have nothing to say either, staring right back up at him, mouth open just a little as if in shock. 

The water rippled next to him, and another head poked out of the water. Bubby glanced over at him as he surfaced, and the mantis shrimp took that opportunity to shift, pulling himself up a bit to balance on the edge of the docking bay, his body drifting behind him. The other merman, as that was all Bubby could imagine them to be, was a bit too deep to see what exactly he was. Yet, he was the first to speak. 

“You’ve been listening to him sing for however long he’s been down here, and you don’t say a word now?” Bubby blinked, before looking towards the mantis shrimp, who pushed back off the wall and shoved the other’s head back down under water. 

“Don’t mind Tommy.” Bubby blinked, then nodded slightly, shifting to sit cross legged a bit back from the edge of the docking bay, so the mantis shrimp could hook his arms, the more human ones, on the edge again and hang there. “I’m.. Coomer.” 

“Bubby.” He answered softly, voice barely able to make a sound through his shock. This was a merman. A mantis shrimp merman, who had been listening to him singing? This entire time? 

Tommy popped back up again. “The entire time, Mr. Human, the entire time!” Coomer shot a look behind him, and Tommy disappeared back underwater, and Bubby blinked, seeing a large shape move away from the pool, what he assumed to be Tommy. He was deceptively big, how had he not seen that mass before? Was he flat? Some sort of manta ray then. 

“Uh...” Bubby’s eyes flicked back towards Coomer, who was frowning at him. “Are you alright? I know it’s a bit of a shock-” 

“Fine! Fine, just uh... Trying to figure out what... type of creature he was. I mean, you’re obvious, mostly, and I think I figured out the other one when he floated past, but uh, Tommy, I didn’t see until he... swam off.” Coomer nodded slightly, still staring up at him. 

“That’s alright. He’s probably going to go get the others anyways, you can meet the school.” Bubby blinked at him, then nodded slightly. 

“You’ve... been listening to me sing?” 

“Oh, only when you’re in here, that’s the only place I can really hear it. Your voice is lovely, I’m a little upset I couldn’t hear it through the windows so I could hear you more often.” Coomer shifted slightly, and his tail disappeared into the dark for a moment as it flicked down, then slowly floated back up. Bubby watched quietly, still trying to fully process what he was seeing. 

They sat like that for a moment, Coomer staring up at him, and Bubby staring back, before Coomer spoke again. “I like your eyes. They’re very nice.” 

“Oh... I mean, red’s a weird color-” 

“No, that’s... not red. I know red, that’s not quite it.” Bubby frowned at him. They were his eyes, and he had been subject to a lot of bullshit because they were red. He knew what color his eyes were. 

“No, I’m... pretty sure-” and then Bubby paused. Mantis shrimp had far more color receptors than a human had, didn’t they? Maybe Coomer just... saw something different than he did. “I mean... I guess they would look different to you, huh...” he trailed off, before shaking his head slightly. 

“I guess so. The others do say I see differently than them a lot. They tried to tell me humans didn’t have stripes!” Coomer leaned up, catching Bubby’s wrist in his hand carefully, pushing himself up with the shrimp arms to have his other hand free to trace something along Bubby’s arm. 

Bubby saw nothing, frowning at him a moment, before going with it. “Your eyes are very green. I don’t think I’ve seen anything that green before.” 

Coomer was still tracing the marks that only he could see, and paused, Bubby watching him flush before shooting a grin at him, looking back to his arm. “I dunno if they are green like green is to me... But I’m... glad you like them.” 

He almost snorted, turning his head and continued to let Coomer trace the lines along his arm, watching him out of the corner of his eye. As such, he watched the water ripple again, as the pyrosome colony he had seen before poked his head up, and then disappeared again. Bubby raised an eyebrow. “That uh... pyrosome colony-” 

“Forzen”  

“Yeah, uh, Forzen... What’s his deal?” 

"Oh, he just likes watching people.” Coomer glanced back, and must’ve been able to see where he sunk down into the water. He looked back towards Bubby’s arm. “Plus he has trouble swimming, so we move him with currents. So that just means the others are here too now.” 

“Others?” 

Coomer nodded. “You saw Tommy for a second, there’s Darnold, Benrey, and Gordon as well. Well, G-Man too, but he’s rarely around, so I don’t think he’s here. Also Gordon’s son Joshua, but Joshua is just a normal fish he adopted, so he can’t come up here like we can.” He hit the sleeve of Bubby’s shirt again and pouted, dropping back down onto his human arms. Bubby blinked, rubbing his arm slightly, almost missing his touch. 

He glanced over as another head popped up from the water, and Coomer looked over at him as well. “Hey Darnold. This is Bubby.” Darnold shifted up a bit more to lift a hand at him, slowly beginning to circle. Bubby looked at him quietly. 

“Shark?” Darnold grinned at him, and that only confirmed it to him. “So we have Benrey and Gordon left to see, right?” Coomer nodded slightly, and just then, Tommy resurfaced, grinning. 

“Benrey’s coming up soon!” 

Bubby was... honestly a bit overwhelmed, but said nothing, as another sharp toothed merman surfaced, black hair spread out around him. Bubby glanced at the others, who said nothing, looking back at this grunge looking man who had emerged from the deep. 

So maybe Bubby was a bit scared. This was fine. 

“Hey Benrey! Where’s Gordon?” 

“Uh being a lil... a lil bitch baby.” Bubby stared at the newly identified Benrey, eyes narrowed slightly, but was distracted from his thought as Coomer sighed, pushing himself off the wall. 

“I’ll get him.” and he disappeared into the water. Bubby stared after him, then glanced around at the others, who all stared at him dead faced. 

“... I have done nothing to deserve your ire.” He said, glaring around back at them, and Tommy huffed. 

“yeah, but we’ve never seen Coomer like this before. So... just know you won’t make it back to the surface to your school if you hurt him.” 

His school? This was a very strange school at this point, and Bubby sighed. “I don’t have one? So I don’t think it would matter that much if you killed me, I just don’t feel like dying.” 

For some reason, when he said that, they seemed upset at this, but weren’t able to say anything before Coomer’s tail appeared, as he scrambled up the side and managed to get his feet onto the level surface, backing up carefully as he dragged the most pissed off looking mer Bubby had ever seen. To be fair, he hadn’t seen a lot, but he knew anger when he saw it. 

This had to be Gordon. He was hanging from Coomer’s arms, hair plastered in his face, arms dangling. His hand had some pretty nasty claws on it, and the other was a scarred stump. Bubby tried to find his face in the mess of hair covering it, but was unable. 

“Here’s Gordon!” Coomer called, holding him up with apparently ease, though Bubby, looking down into the dark water, could not see the end of of his tail. He could see a small fish circling the tail that remained in the water. Just a normal fish. This caused him to laugh softly, looking back up at Gordon, who snarled at him and Bubby fell silent. “He didn’t want to meet you, but I wanted him to, so he’s gonna!” 

“I’m faster than you.” 

“And I’m stronger than you!” Coomer replied cheerfully, and dropped him back into the water. Gordon ducked down for a second, but only to slick the hair in his face back off of it, surfacing again to glare towards Bubby. He looked across the bay to look at Coomer completely out of the water for the first time he had seen him. He was just as brightly colored, if not more so than Bubby originally thought, without the dark water muffling the bright colors. Coomer shifted and dove back under, popping up in front of him, pulling himself back up into his original position and... 

Bubby forgot about the others, in favor of the green once more. Coomer seemed content, staring back at him, and they fell into silence again. 

“Jesus you two are gay-” 

Coomer dove at Tommy, and they disappeared under the water. 

[bumblesimagines]

No Light, No Light

Request: Yes or No

I'm doing everything but that Jacob Black fic lmao. I'm obsessed with this song and this (Y/N).

You are the hole in my head

You are the space in my bed

You are the silence in between

What I thought and what I said

Jason watched as you laughed at one of Gar's jokes, hands covered in cookie dough as you, Rachel, and Gar attempted to make cookies. In Jason's mind, your smile alone could lift anyone's spirits and the way your eyes shone with happiness. It made his heart swirl with affection and butterflies fill his stomach. You grinned, rubbing cookie dough on Rachel's cheek. She squealed, laughing. Gar took the opportunity to eat some cookie dough before Rachel could scold him.

"Jay!" Christ, nobody could make his legs turn to jelly and his cheeks turn soft pink like you.

"Come join us." You cooed, eyes soft and angelic.

You are the night-time fear

You are the morning when it's clear

When it's over, you're the start

You're my head and you're my heart

You sipped on your orange juice, watching the cookies bake in the oven while Gar and Rachel laughed in the other room. Jason's eyes looked at the golden markings on your (S/C) skin. They were gorgeous and fit you perfectly. Jason reached out, tracing one with his finger. Your skin was warm and soft to the touch. You finished your juice, licking your lips and placing the cup in the sink. Jason glanced up at your eyes. You really were Apollo's son. When Kory and Dick told the team, he almost laughed. Then, he saw you. You had been very suspicious and distant at first, you had an injured wing of course, but you grew closer to the team and eventually joined them. Jason couldn't stop his feelings from flourishing.

No light, no light

In your bright blue eyes

I never knew daylight could be so violent

A revelation in the light of day

Jason hissed, hands gripping the sheets.

"Sorry." You whispered, eyes filled with cocern. You continued to use your power to close up his wound. It gave a slight burn. the deeper the wound, the more it burned. It made sense, your powers had to do with light and fire afterall. Jason shrugged.

"I've felt worse." He mumbled, watching the wound close completely. A scar took its place. You gave a small smile.

"You should be careful, Jay." You gently grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumb against his, unaware of the way his heart sped up. Jason grinned, playfulness shining in his blue eyes.

"I'm always careful, can't you tell?" He motioned to the scar. You let a laugh slip and rolled your eyes.

You can't choose what stays and what fades away

And I'd do anything to make you stay

No light, no light

Tell me what you want me to say

You took notice of the way Jason shivered. The temperature had suddenly dropped over night, it was no wonder he was freezing. You pulled the cozy and warm blanket up, giving a smile as you stood.

"Can you stay?" Jason asked, fingers wrapping around yours as he stared at you with hopeful eyes. You gave in, not being able to resist his puppy eyes. You got into bed with him, feeling him cuddle against you, seeking your warmth.

"Christ, you're like a heater." He mumbled. You chuckled, watching him use your arm as a pillow. You ran your fingers through his messy dark locks, watching him doze off. Jason scooted closer, heading moving onto your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your torso.

Through the crowd I was crying out and

In your place there were a thousand other faces

I was disappearing in plain sight

Heaven help me, I need to make it right

You watched as Dick and Jason argued, getting into each others faces. You stood up from your spot on the couch, approaching them.

"Guys?"

"If you weren't so reckless-"

"Reckless?! I was protecting the team!"

"Guys!" You spoke louder, breaking their argument. They stopped and looked at you. Dick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He let out an exhausted sigh.

"What?" He asked.

"Can you... Solve this disagreement more calmly? Or at least not in front of the others?" You asked, motioning to Rachel and Gar. Dick glanced at them before nodding.

"Yeah," He nodded. "Can do."

"Jesus.." Jason rolled his eyes, arms crossing.

"You know what? I don't need this shit." Jason snarled, storming out after bumping shoulders with Dick. You watched him leave with a sigh.

"He'll be back. He'd never go far without you." Dick said as he walked past you. Your brows furrowed at his brows.

You want a revelation

You want to get right

But it's a conversation

I just can't have tonight

You shifted your gaze away from the music sheet and looked at the figure leaning against your doorway.

"What's up, Jay?" You asked, nodding for him to enter. He did so, closing the door behind him and getting closer to you.

"Sorry for my attitude earlier, (N/N)." He apologized quietly, barely above a whisper as his fingers drummed against your desk. You faced him, brows raising as a smile slipped.

"You should be apologizing to Dick, not me." You said, locking eyes with him for a brief second before he tore his eyes away.

"I know.." He licked his lips, gaze focusing on your lamp. "I don't want to though. Not yet."

"Okay, but do it soon." You gave a comforting smile.

"You wanna sleep in here again?" You asked, putting away your music sheets and standing up. Jason nodded, cheeks and ears turning a soft red.

You want a revelation

Some kind of resolution

You want a revelation

You approached your dresser, hearing the bed squeaking as Jason sat down. You slid off your shirt, rolling your shoulders. Jason studied your wing markings, capturing and memorizing every detail. You changed into some sweats before going to your bed and laying down. You turned off the lamp once you pulled the blankets up and shifted to face Jason. Your eyes adjusted quickly to the dark so you were able to see Jason's face more clearly. Your raised your hand, fingers tracing random shapes against his cheek until he fell asleep. You leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Night, Jay." You mumbled.

No light, no light

In your bright blue eyes

I never knew daylight could be so violent

A revelation in the light of day

You can't choose what stays and what fades away

And I'd do anything to make you stay

No light, no light

Tell me what you want me to say

"Did Jason ever come back last night?" Dawn asked, pouring you some juice. You nodded. Her brows furrowed.

"Really? When I checked his room he wasn't there." She said.

"He slept in my room." You told her, grabbing the cup and bringing it up to your lips. Her brows raised and a smile appeared on her face.

"Oh?" You cocked a brow at her tone.

"What?"

"He slept in your bed?" She asked with a grin. You rolled your eyes, figuring out where she was going with the conversation.

"Pay attention to your pancakes, Dawn."

Would you leave me

If I told you what I've done?

And would you leave me

If I told you what I've become?

You read over an article, talking about the new Robin being too brutal and unlike the old one. You looked over at Jason, watching play random keys on your piano. You weren't aware of the inner conflict going on in his mind. He was tore between asking you if you thought he was a bad Robin or not.

"Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a good person, you know that, right?" You asked. Jason sent you a grin.

"Obviously." He watched you snort and look back at your phone. He relaxed, playing a decent tune on the piano. Jason licked his lips, switching onto a different conflict. Confessing his feelings.

Because it's so easy

To say it to a crowd

But it's so hard, my love

To say it to you out loud

Jason turned in his seat, looking at you. He cleared his throat. Your eyes flickered over to him.

"You've... You're into guys, right?" Jason asked. You nodded, putting your phone on the nightstand. He nimbled on his bottom lip, racking his brain for ways to confess.

"I think, no, I know I'm into guys." He said, avoiding eye contact. Jason heard the bed squeak and looked up, seeing you sitting.

"And... For the longest time, I've had feelings for you. I thought it was just a small crush at first but..." Jason's typical confident and cocky attitude flew out the window. He was beyond nervous.

"I figured out that I really like you. Maybe more than like. You don't have to return my feelings or anything, I just wanted you to know how I feel about you."

No light, no light

In your bright blue eyes

I never knew daylight could be so violent

A revelation in the light of day

You can't choose what stays and what fades away

And I'd do anything to make you stay

No light, no light

Tell me what you want me to say

Jason felt anxious. The thought of you rejecting him was bad but the thought of you never speaking to him again was worse. He had gone to you with all of his secrets. He had spilled out all his thoughts and problems. Jason had told you about his past, Bruce, all his problems. He heard the bed squeak again and swallowed as your footsteps approached him. Jason kept his gaze on the floor, not wanting to look at you and break down. Warm hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up. Soft and gentle lips covered his and Jason froze up. He stood, his hands going to your wrists and grabbing them as he kissed you back. It was his first but he had seen enough to know how to kiss properly.

You want a revelation

You want to get right

But it's a conversation

I just can't have tonight

You want a revelation

Some kind of resolution

You want a revelation

You pulled back slowly, Jason almost chasing your lips for another kiss. You laughed at his flushed face and eagerness. You rested your forehead against his, bumping noses with him. Jason dropped his hands and instead placed them on your hips.

"Does that mean...?" He trailed off. You chuckled, nodding.

"Yes, you dork, I like you too." You grinned, watching his blue eyes light up. Jason leaned in, capturing your lips. It was sloppy but sweet.

You want a revelation

You want to get right

But it's a conversation

I just can't have tonight

You want a revelation

Some kind of resolution

Tell me what you want me to say