body explodes in fire

i n k.

Originally posted by shirtlessthomas

chris evans x reader (smut)

warnings: smut, dirty talk, tattoo kink? NSFW GIF. 

prompt: small discussion of tattoos leads to smutty goodness.

a small yawn left your lips as your head rested on your boyfriends chest, the curtains were drawn closed leaving you in a dimly lit room, the only noise surrounding you was your breathing and the sound of his steady heartbeat by your ear. you and chris had been dating for two months but having time together or even alone was a rarity considering his line of work, not that you minded, you loved spending time with sebastian and anthony as well as visiting his parents. his mothers cooking was to die for and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting whenever you saw how they interacted, it was no secret that he was an absolute mammy’s boy.

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Mr. Min - Prologue

Description:  Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual.  Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Implied Smut?  All the other chapters will have actual smut.

Word Count: 1661

Warning: Dom!Yoongi, demeaning names

A/N: This is a response to this request.  Thanks anon!

Playlist - Prologue - Ch 01 - Ch 02 - Ch 03 - Ch 04 - Ch 05 - Ch 06

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Three’s Company

Staring: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and Misha Collins

You all can thank @uttertrash–butlikecutetrash for this one ;)

A soft nuzzle at your neck wakes you up as there’s a tickle between your thighs while a strong hand massages your breasts. Your eyes flutter open, instantly widening as you look down.

Jensen’s familiar lips work your neck, Jared’s strong tongue glides between your folds, Misha’s strong hands work your breasts.

“Boys, boys, boys…what’s with the pampering?”

“We need you Y/N,” Jensen’s husky voice whispers in your ear. Jared’s groan waves through your sex as Misha sucks your nipple into his mouth.

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anonymous asked:

Writing prompt. You could have died. Angst.

“You could have died.”

Blackhat’s grey face was paler that normal. At his sides his fingers were curled up into a tight fist and shaking. He tried to hide the hitch in his breath, but it came out a hiccuped sob.

“What are these emotions!” Blackhat hissed, as tears gathers at the edges of his eyes. His chest heaved, and his reached out to grasp the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed. He cursed.

Red on red on red on red on red on white on HIM.


Blackhat was scrubbing at the hot tears running down his face and wanting to scream.


It was that goddamn hero. They broke into the mansion and knocked Dementia out before she could scare them off. They went to Flug’s lab and were trying to convince him to “become a hero” and “do the right thing.” Things went south and they decided they were going to try and steal Flug’s inventions instead.

Blackhat cleared his throat and tried to fill his screaming lungs with oxygen. He splayed his hands on the edge of the bed to steady himself, but his arms kept trembling.

Flug had fought back.

Blackhat glanced up at the scarlet stained bandages disappearing under the fringes of Dr. Flugs paper bag. His eyebrows scrunched together in worry, and he fought down a sob. No, he could control himself; he didn’t need these emotions breaking his composure so thoroughly.

He’d come running into the lab after he’d seen Dementia knocked out cold. Flug was being held up by the lapels of his lab coat. The Hero saw Blackhat and aimed one of Flug’s guns at him. There was a scream of panic from the doctor, and he lashed out with a sharp hook to the hero’s jaw, therefore skewing their aim so the beam hit the wall and turned it to sludge

Then, Flug was hurled into the wall, hitting with a sickening CRACK. He had slumped to the floor without a sound; red leaking out from under his bag. Blackhat had exploded like a fire bomb.

His body had begun to change form; it expanded into an oily black sheet, and then into solid tentacles, razor-sharp tooth filled mouths, and bright yellow eyes. A roar came from deep within his mass, and then the hero was gone. Their body had been ripped to shreds, so nothing remained.

“You could have died…” Blackhat whispered again. He placed his hand over Dr. Flug that was laying on top of the sheets.

Black hat had turned around to see Flug lying eerily still.


Once at his doctor’s side, he could see the damage that had been done. Broken arm, probably a few broken ribs, definitely a concussion and …. was he breathing? Yes, there was a shallow lift in his chest every 7 or 8 seconds. There was so much blood through.

“How dare you make me feel like this,” Blackhat mumbled. “Make me… feel human. You had to go get yourself hurt like that…”

The lab was chilly, the corner where the hospital bed was even more so. Gently, Blackhat tugged the blankets up tighter under Flug’s armpits.Then he crossed his arms and leaned back in his hard plastic chair.

“I was worried about you,” Black hat admitted in the silence. “And I hate saying that because it make me feel so weak! I’m not some fragile human with an easily shattered heart, or a fluttery soul, or even chemically induced feelings! I’m… I’m…” Blackhat became really quiet as Flug shifted and groaned, his bag crinkling upwards to reveal his chin. Blackhat pulled it back down without thinking, but then he lingered, his clawed fingers caressing the doctor’s lower face.

It was like a slap to the face.

Blackhat pulled back and held his hand to chest like it had been burned.

“I- I- I don’t-,” he stammered. He shook his head violently, and then scoffed. “What am I doing? I’m a villain, I’m EVIL, I’m… I’m worried for him…” Blackhat swallowed, and let his fingers curl back around Flugs. He leaned forward and rest his head in his other hand as he stared at the doctors slowly rising chest. Blackhat was sure Flug would pull through this, but the red staining the bandages was still upsetting. Not so upsetting that Blackhat’s eyelids didn’t become heavy with sleep though.

Dementia came to check in on Flug after she made a few rounds of the mansion to make sure no other Hero’s had broken in. She was startled at first to find Blackhat fast asleep by her best friends bedside. But rather than question it, Dementia decided to crawl up onto the bed and curl up next to Flug like a guard dog. She’d keep them safe, she swore to herself as she settled in to watch. Nobody would hurt her friends under her protection, not unless they took her out first. And she never ever wanted to let that happen again

I hope this is kinda what you wanted anon!! This was fun to write, so thank you so much for the request!! Always feel free to send in more!


“ The law is just, just a whisper away, a way to wonder, wonder who. Who knows how to measure rules…With a ruler! Cruel rules…” ~ Hatter

{ A Time Obsessed Merciless Mad Man who hasn’t had time on his side }

The Mad Hatter remains a fanatic of time, but is no longer the tea party-loving hatter that he was during Alice Liddell’s last visit to Wonderland. He has finally snapped, and became a half-organic, half-metallic rendition of his former self.

- Appearance  -

The Hatter had turned into a tall, long-limbed cyborg. He was green-skinned, with a large nose and ears, tiny eyes, and his teeth bore an overbite. His body was made out of metal and wood, and he had a rusted cog sticking out of his back. His clothes consisted of a loose straightjacket, black trousers, and dress shoes with spats. He also wore a large black-and-white checkerboard top hat, covered in alchemy symbols and a few drops of blood.

- Personality  -

The Mad Hatter is a psychopath, literally gone “mad” (or perhaps madder than ever) and obsessed with time and clockworks, who considers himself to be a genius. He invents mechanical devices, often evidently using the bodies of living organisms for the base of his inventions, as he plans to do to all of Wonderland’s inhabitants.
His automaton victims include the March Hare, the Dormouse, and countless Insane Children taken from the Hatter’s asylum; the Hatter himself is also mostly mechanical, as revealed in the conclusion of his battle with Alice when his body short-circuits and his head explodes.

- American McGee’s Alice -

Before the fire began, the Hatter was holding a tea party with Alice and her other Wonderland friends. When the added chapter “Smoke and Fire” began in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, the Hatter screamed in alarm when a fire broke out and the White Rabbit screamed that “[they] must save Alice”. The Mad Hatter’s cries roused Alice from her dream so that she could survive the fire.
Later, Alice and the White Rabbit were seeking out the Caterpillar in Wonderland Woods when the Mad Hatter killed the Rabbit, crushing him flat beneath his foot as both he and Alice were still shrunken down at this time. This action seems to be intentional and not accidental, as the Mad Hatter appears to be pressing his foot. The Mad Hatter was also presumably responsible for having repaired the Jabberwock by replacing body parts with metal and machinery, having been left drastically disfigured by the Vorpal Blade.

Hatter about to hit Alice unconscious.
Once the Red King was defeated, the Mad Hatter appeared behind Alice and knocked her out, transporting her to a mad funhouse that was a reminiscent of Rutledge Asylum. Shortly after defeating the Tweedles, the Hatter revealed himself and talked to Alice, citing several of her fears when she stated that she feared nothing. He told her that it might be avoided, causing her to question what he meant before the floor crumbled around her and sent her falling into Crazed Clockwork.
Along the way, she discovered the imprisoned Dormouse, March Hare, and Gryphon, who told her that the Hatter had gone mad and planned to turn the inhabitants into automatons or kill them in the process, as well as his habit of checking on his experiments at six o’ clock. Alice messed up with the clock’s gears in order to make “six come early.”[8] Alice eventually defeated him in his lair and he stopped moving when his head exploded. He was later resurrected after the Queen of Hearts was destroyed, now no longer hostile to Alice.

- Madness Returns -

The Mad Hatter had been ironically torn apart at the hands of his former victims, the March Hare and the Dormouse. Alice found his head and torso in the garbage dump of his domain. She offered to collect the rest of his limbs in exchange for help.
After successfully retrieving his arms and legs, Hatter became delighted, but refused to reveal any information and resorted to jabbering nonsense when Alice asked him about the Infernal Train. He did, however, led her to the main part of the factory, where the Train was built.
After the Train passed through, the Dormouse and Hare appeared in a huge imposing looking mecha, taunting the pair and promising to destroy them. The Hatter became furious with them for their part in Alice’s potential downfall by unleashing the Train. The two new leaders responded to his scolding by snatching him up with a hook. Hatter was able to free himself and destroy the mech within seconds by dropping a giant teapot on it. The weight of the teapot caused March Hare and Dormouse’s deaths.

The Mad Hatter offering tea to a dead March Hare.
The severity of Hatter’s actions finally reached him and he suffered another break with reality. He cradled his dead friends in his arms and told them that all he wanted was another tea party as his domain crumbles around him. He wrapped them both in his arms and offered them tea. Alice persistently demanded information about the Train, but Hatter does not answer her and only told her to talk to the Mock Turtle just seconds before the roof fell and crushed him. Alice says he “deserved to die.”
Much like the White Rabbit, the Hatter appears after his death in Wonderland in the Radula Room Endurance Challenges. Hatter’s status remained unknown, as his appearance in the Radula Room either meant that he was revived after being crushed, or Alice was simply visiting him in some realm of the dead.
The Hatter later appeared on the Infernal Train, criticizing Alice for her methods of solving her problems, reminiscing about a party he had with Hare and Dormouse before they turned on him. He remarked that insanity was no excuse for forgetting, and told Alice that he had tried to forget what Alice had done, but was unsuccessful.

( All info from American McGee’s Alice Wiki )

Never Hide Your Beauty Part 2

Part 1

Warning: Smut/Looove making.

Credit to owners of pics I used.

About a month passed by since Juice and Celeste started dating. She had met a few of the guys and they were all great people. She got a few looks from the crow eaters but those were shot down quick when she’d give them the middle finger.

All their dates had ended the same way. Juice walking her to her door and kissing her cheek. While Celeste would go inside and begin kicking herself mentally for not inviting him in. And juice was a complete gentleman. Very patient. In truth she was scared. Scared things would heat up and he’d see her body underneath the clothes that protected her. These feelings also conflicted with the constant compliments he gave her. She saw the way he looked at her when they danced. The hunger in his eyes. The lip biting. The lip licking. The way he held her hips. It was too much. What was she waiting for?

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Siege on the Evil Doctor

Four warriors brave the castle of Dr. Jamison Junkenstein in order to end his experiments once and for all.

Four warriors sat around a slowly dying fire, one man more alert than the others. No one slept, but watched each other’s backs. Closing your eyes meant reliving the horrors in the dream world, waking up to those same horrors staring you in the face. The forest was still, silent, but the darkness was the scariest part, and could hold anything. No one wanted to risk leaving the dim light the fire provided.

 Their next destination beyond the forest would be their last. Winning came at a cost; too many lives had been lost at this point. Losing meant that they’d also succumb to being changed…

The Gunslinger sighed, checking his pockets once again and grimacing. He had to be careful with his bullets. He had five rounds left, not counting the one already loaded, but he couldn’t risk using all of them before they got to the castle. All his shots had to hit their mark, else he’d die.

Next to him, the Archer sorted through his bows, wiping down the blood and muck from the tips. He barely had time to gather all of them, most left in the bodies he had slain. There was no time to run back and get them, so he also had to make do with what he had. Thirty arrows left. He’d also have to be precise.

The Soldier had his gun trained on a target no one could see. His visor scanned the forest slowly, looking out for threats. Having lost the most during this expedition, he wasn’t taking any chances. The three with him were all he had left. He’d rather lose his life than lose the last of human contact he’d ever have. If that mad doctor wanted them, he’d have to get through the soldier first.

The Monk sat quietly, in a trancelike state. The only calm one, there was little he could do to ease his companions minds. He technically wasn’t alive; anything the doctor did to him wouldn’t force him to lose his humanity. He could be turned into a zombic, but he’d always keep a part of him. But he if lost the others, he’d truly be alone.

So far, they’d already lost their alchemist, their viking, their sniper, and the Archer’s brother. What had once been a might party had been reduced to these four. It was easy to trust someone when they stopped the undead from ripping out your throat or clawing out your back, and the group had been close. They were the only things left of humanity this far out.

“…I thought the doctor was dead,” the Gunslinger muttered. “We got reports that he was dead.”

“His monster might’ve been inhumane, but it was smart. It could’ve learned how to revive him,” the Archer pointed out.

“Or it was faked,” the Soldier said. “What if he faked the whole thing to kidnap more victims and turn them into monsters? We know his army has grown, too large for what he started. Perhaps he was never dead, only made it seem that way so that he could expand.”

It was grim, but closest to the truth.

A rustling from the trees had them all in action. The Soldier cocked his gun, the Gunslinger took aim, the Archer lifted his bow, and the Monk raised his hands for attack. They couldn’t lose one another. Not when they were so close to putting down the doctor.

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exo as love situations


Kim Junmyeon: A love that is felt so deeply, reassuringly so to the point the person you love becomes one of your biggest priorities. Junmyeon often arrives home asking how that special someone is doing, dropping his bags and his coat on the floor before trotting towards the room and when days are a little bit harsher than usual, his sweet smile appears over his face and he lands on the mattress right beside his love. One of his arms would be under his lover’s head and his fingers would play with the loose strands of the person’s hair, listening to them ramble about their day in between sobs and whimpers. Junmyeon feels his heart shattering, as if he was the one in pain and he even suffers from the need of wrapping his arms around his girlfriend securely to keep her in place, never letting her go. Junmyeon’s love is powerful but reassuring.

Kim Minseok: A love that flows with the wind, as if it was meant to happen. Minseok doesn’t spend hours of his day wondering why his feelings were acting certain way or questioning his actions when he was in front of someone he genuinely liked or loved, he simply let go and lived his life with the most open mind. It wasn’t unusual to have date nights with him and see the smile over his face, mostly somewhere private like his apartment or his lover’s, but they would end up playing as if nothing mattered. His sweet features would turn into a smile that was followed by laughter as the two run around the apartment, hiding behind couches and jumping over carpets before one of them was pressed against the counter and the two were out of breath, smiling at one another as his hands settle over said person’s waist. Minseok is not one to easily fall in love, but if it happens…who is he to say otherwise?

Zhang Yixing: A love that is impressionable, surprising and naïve. Yixing had some amounts of lovers in his life, they weren’t many but they were enough to make one of his hands raise up when counting, but it was always a new experience whenever he was with the person that truly owned his heart. Yixing’s eyes would widen and he would even gasp when he heard stories that came from said person’s lips and he would feel like he began again whenever he was with them, the meal between the two wouldn’t be the main point of everything and there wouldn’t be awkward silences, because Yixing knows what to add at the most perfect of times and he is a good listener. His hands would tremble over the table as he tries to hold his date’s hand and once their fingers interlock, Yixing feels like he is at the top of the world, his cheeks turning into a deep shade of red and his other hand playing with the hem of his shirt under the table. Yixing is a new beginning and they both liked it.

Byun Baekhyun: A love that is teasing meant to be understood as hatred or annoyance. Baekhyun knows something and it’s one of the most hurtful truths about himself, he is  the type to seek attention when he liked someone and whether he liked it or not, he used his weapon of choice –teasing his crush until they were gripping their hair as a way of coping with him. He would usually approach his lover when they were alone, his hands hidden behind his back as his usual sweet smile would appear over his face and he would do anything to start a conversation, asking about said person’s day or even asking how they were doing lately, but then he would turn anything into a joke, playing around until he was left laughing and the other person was pouting. At that point, he would drape an arm around his lover’s shoulder and smile thoughtfully before saying a small “I am joking, beautiful.” Baekhyun is witty, although people don’t perceive it.

Kim Jongdae: A love that is full of memories, always kept inside his head for when he wants to tell them late at night. Jongdae adores to keep little memories with his lover, whether they were Polaroid pictures that normally rested over one of his tables or if they were small texts that he sent at early moments of the morning because he just remembered something, but every date and moment is easily remembered by him. Jongdae would be the type to simply know everything about the person he loves, from favorite colors to favorite movies and even the worst moments of their life, he keeps everything inside his brain and he knows how to treat someone right. His lips would quirk in the sweetest of smiles when he remembered that exact moment of their relationship when they were their happiest, like their first kiss or first date, so he would tell that when the two were walking towards their apartment, hands interlocked and hearts joined in one.

Park Chanyeol: A love that is obnoxiously sweet, one that pours in little actions that lead up to something else. Chanyeol never expected to like someone that much, he was one to easily think someone was cute before dropping it, but the moment he discovers that he has a crush on someone, he goes all the way…even more than he would like to. Chanyeol is the type to pop to someone’s door late at night, making that person gasp the moment they open the door to see the tall man carrying a bag of chips, popcorn, a big bottle of soda and wearing a cap even when he was indoors. It wouldn’t matter if it was late at night, but his sweet question in his deep voice along the lines of “movie time?” was enough to have his love interest opening the door wider for him to enter. Chanyeol wouldn’t stop saying compliments to that person and even feeding them if he was feeling extra cheesy, in his defense, he just gets nervous.

Do Kyungsoo: A love that is silent but a stare or a smile is enough to reassure someone that he was there. Whenever a person thought about Kyungsoo, they thought that he was the type of boyfriend that simply accompanied his lover to special occasions and didn’t say a word, and a part of himself was that way, but his true intentions were shown when he was cooking, sleeves up until they reached his elbows and he was mixing a few ingredients, feeling his lover’s arms wrapping around his waist and dragging him back a bit to press kisses along his neck. Kyungsoo’s plump lips would turn into a sweet smile and he would turn his head back a bit to look at his partner, a little peck given with the taste of the ingredients he was using before muttering a small “I love you” that didn’t need any more sugar coating.

Kim Jongin: A love that started with passion, then it turned into sweetness. Jongin is the type to be misunderstood, badly conceptualized and so on; he was like a work of art, often seen different depending on the people, but they thought he was either too cold or too nice, too old minded or too young minded, it was never something in between. He didn’t know a person could see past his Kai persona and actually like Jongin until he met his partner, someone who would love how he was when he was on stage and also adored how he would watch his favorite shows when he was in his room. His eyes would dart up when he feels someone looking at him and a blush would rise from his tan skin when he realizes that he was beautiful, loved and needed.

Oh Sehun: A love that wasn’t meant to be love. Sehun promised a hundred times that he was never going to fall in love, for it doesn’t exist, but everything changed the moment he met a person that he absolutely –hated, yes, that’s what happened. Sehun is the type to pretend he dislikes someone until he believes it himself, but deep down his furrowed brows and blank stares wouldn’t be able to hide his feelings for someone. Whenever his future lover would look at him, he felt a fire building up inside his body and exploding in sharp words and even sharper stares. Little did they know that they could end up tangled in limbs and with raged breaths as they kiss in the back of his car, only pulling way to say the words “I hate you so much”, even when his actions said otherwise.

Why we were fighting

Originally posted by stars-come-0ut

To say that Waller made a huge mistake was misunderstanding. Everyone who at least once looked at the Squad knew that (y/n) (y/l/n) and Chato Santana together were no good, to say the last. From the very begin of work of the (h/c) metahuman with the squad, they hated each other. They were always fighting, not ever once giving up on the opportunity to hurt each other, physically or emotionally.

And yet, Amanda Waller send them on the mission, together, without of anyone to accompany them. The effect of that was that, that not even three hours of the official start of their mission, they were fighting with each other, which ended with them being captured by the guys they were supposed to take down. Some kind of gang or something like that, (y/n) weren’t sure, taking that she weren’t listening after she was told, that she is parred on this mission with Chato.

Now, they were, tied to each others back, sitting on the cold floor of the cellar of some sort. She with big cut on her brow and blood slowly running down her face, and him, still unconscious.

“I swear to god, if you won’t wake up in like two seconds, I will personally rip your heart out!” She growled at him, showing her head back and hitting him on his own. Finally he groaned and opened his eyes, looking around.

“What’s going on?”
“Oh, finally our beloved princess had woke up. As you can see, you stupid fuck, we got captured by those assholes and now, we are probably going to die, just because, you were too stupid to shut your stupid mouth as I told you!” She showed her head back, once more hitting him.

“Ow! Stop it!”

“Ha! What more? You got us in this situation, then I’m going to punish you!” Before she was able to hit him again, he burned slightly her arm, that was pressed tightly to his. She growled at him. “You son of a…”

“You try to hit me again, I burn you. Easy enough for you?” She scoffed at his words. “And we wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you and…”

“Shut up.” She furrowed her brow.
“What? Can’t face the truth…”

“I said shut up. They are coming, but I can’t count them, because of your talking.”
“Or, because you can’t count.” She ignored him and closed her eyes. When she finished, she pushed herself slightly to his back. “… How many?”

“Four unarmed and two with guns.” Mexican cursed under his breath and moved his head, to lean it on her shoulder.

“What are we gonna do?” She did the same with her head. She moved a little opening her mouth, but doors of the room they sat at opened, showing six men, two of them holding guns.

“Our lovebirds are awake? Good. Now, tell us who send you.” One of them crouched in front of them with smirk on his lips. They both scoffed at his words, not saying a word. He sighed and got up. “And I though that you would be clever. Take the girl.” He moved out of his men way and watched as they untied them, just to take (y/n) and tie Chato once more. To Diablos shock, when they dragged her away, she looked at him with fear in her eyes and mouth opened slightly in quiet scream. It was probably first time when he saw her so scared. He tried to move, but it was for nothing. “You two, have an eye on him, shot if needed. And you, little one, we are going to have a little talk.” He took her by her (h/c) hair and dragged her out.

Chato sat still, waiting for (y/n) to be her usual self and use her powers to got out from them, just to show up and help him, probably not letting him live this up for another year or so, but his hopes shattered in moment when he heard her terrified scream. He looked up and swallowed hard. It’s true that they hated each other, but still, they were teammates. He knew her, and knew that even burned, she never screamed.

Chato felt rage building in his chest when (y/n)’s screams were still heard. He looked at the two men near the doors, who were only smiling at the girls scream. His breath became shallow and quick. He felt as his skin became warmer and warmer with every passing moment. And before he though about pros and cons of situation they both were in, the fire exploded from his body, burning the rope he was tied with and killing men who was watching him. Getting up, he destroyed doors and went out of the room to the long hallway, where we burned to death anyone who tried to get in his way, while he went in direction from where (y/n) screams were coming from.

When he got to the room he stood still, looking in terror at what was in front of him. Two men were at the girl’s sides, now looking at him with terror, while she was sitting on the chair, tied to it, looking down, not moving, with many curs and bruises on her body. Her breaths was so shallow, he weren’t sure if they was there at all. He burned the guys alive and moved to (y/n), quickly cooling down and crouching in front of her, trying to make her look at him, but she was looking at the ground with empty eyes. He furrowed his brows and toke knife from ground and cut ropes from around her wrists and legs and toke her in his arms and walked out of the room, and from the building they were in, burning it on his way out.

He laid her on the bed in the hotel room they got from Waller on the beginning of their mission and walked to his bag to get first aid kit.

When he finished with girl, she still wasn’t moving, but at least her breath got normal. He sighed and laid on bed next to her, because of course, Waller being herself got them the room with only one bed… It was the reason of their argument before they got captured. Chato sighed closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

He woke up in middle of night feeling arms sneaking around his waist and whole (y/n)s body pressing against his back. He blinked and furrowed his brow hearing her sobbing. He moved slightly, hoping that she would move away, which she didn’t. He sighed and turned carefully, looking her in eyes. That’s probably the closest they ever were to each other, their bodies pressed together, her face buried in his neck, with hot tears rolling out of her eyes and onto his collarbone. He moved and awkwardly patted her head. (y/n) moved a little, looking him in eyes. He furrowed his brow, not sure how to ask her about what happened to her back there, when they tortured her. And fortunately he didn’t have to, because she hugged him, really hugged and started talking.

“When I was a little girl and I started… mutating… my mother called to someone and they took me to this lab… they done many different tests to me, and some other stuff. They tortured me, only to see how my body worked, and it was years before I got out… like really many years, because, when I did get out, killing everyone on my way out, the government and Waller got to me and they showed me to Task Force X, or as you want to call it…”

“Our squad… How old were you?” She hugged him a little harder.

“Seven…” He sighed and patted her head. “Today… When they toke me, it was as if I was seven again. Everything got back to me and… and…”

“Shh.” He putted his forehead to hers and looked her in the eyes. “Do you know what I did?” She shook her head, so he told her, not even once looking away from her eyes. When he finished, she hugged him tighter, hiding her face in his neck.

“We are both fucked up.”

“That’s probably why we were fighting with each other.”

“No, we were fighting with each other, because you are a shit brain who can’t concentrate on simple task.” He backed a little and looked at her with hard expression on his face, right before he bowed his head and pecked her on the lips. She looked at his speechless.

“Go to sleep. And if you say something, I’m going to burn you alive, you got it?” (y/n) only grinned and kissed him, sneaking her arms around his neck and showing him back, to saddle his hips. He only smiled into the kiss and hugged her closer to his body, warming his fingertips and slightly warming her while he touched her.

“You think Waller knew what she was doing while she send us here?” She sat up, looking at his face, which showed his annoyance at her stopping her movements.

“Really? Right now? While we are in middle of something?”

“This something is called sex. And yes, right now, because i’m fucking curious. She even got us one room with only one bed. Do you think that she is shipping us?” Chato only groaned and pushed her, so he was above her.

“The last thing I want to think about right now is Waller. So shut up, and maybe we will talk about it in the morning.” She sighed.


“Why are you looking at me as if it your sad responsibility now?”

“No I don’t.” He groaned and laid back, looking at the ceiling.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” She smiled and laid on her side.



Chapter Four → “Tired”

SUMMARY: You were held captive by Hydra for years and had only just escaped when the Avengers find you. You’re beyond terrified of everyone and everything around you, but the thing the terrifies you the most is yourself. The things you can do with your “abilities” are beyond what anyone could possibly imagine.

Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3  

Originally posted by steve-buckys

@i-love-bucky-barnes @nopevilleluas @winter–plum @poe-also-bucky @serzhantjamesbuchananbarnes @life-is-fuucked @emilyinbuffalo @buckybarnesisalittleshit @theboldandthebootyful @dr121413 @buckysquad @smartashes @notsoprettykitty @romxnovas @tjhammomd @linsteadandchicagopdarelife @justareader @whatsbetterthanfantasy @nikkitia7 @intenselyupset @thenightmarebeforebucky @sebatmanstan @feelmyroarrrr @dazedandcarefree @fly-f0rever @skeletoresinthebasement @colouredwater @cierrabolton @hotemotionalmess @lady-sloan @avixenrose @captainmqmeep @professionally-crazed @ponyboys-sunsets @abimarvelparker @buckysbestgirll @buckybarnesisapreciousplum @sarcastic-ohohoh @notsoluckybucky

You were seated on the couch with Wanda next to you. She hadn’t let go of your hand since she entered your mind and you were grateful for that. The rest of the Avengers were standing in various places throughout the room, all of them staring at you. You subconsciously rubbed at your chest, willing your heart rate to slow down.

“Can you s-sit down,” You asked quietly, “Y-you’re making me nervous.”

Steve smiled softly and plopped down into the chair across from you. The others followed suit, but left the couch to you and Wanda.

“Alright, (Y/N),” The man named Tony began. You were told that he was the man in the metal suit that you had thrown “like a frisbee.” (Steve’s words, not yours.) “We have a file on you, but we thought you could tell us more about yourself. I, personally, would like to know more about your powers because Helen said she had never seen anything so strange–”

“Okay, Tony, just let her start wherever she wants.” Steve interrupted, afraid that Tony would offend you.

All eyes were on you and you felt your body tense. Wanda squeezed your hand. Your eyes flickered to hers and she smiled sweetly at you.

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When you kissed me,
my world exploded,
a Big Bang inside this small body.
I breathed in fire,
exhaled stardust,
my ribs threatening to cave in on
my treacherous beast of a heart.

I was made and unmade in the same moment,
loved and unloved,
held and unheld.

You told me that you never wanted to hurt me,
but Andrea told me that
it hurts to become,
and I don’t want to be without.
—  the end of a beginning /// h.m.m.
Shadow Kissed (Mature)

Summary: Gray and you unleash your alter egos once a month and it is primal fed by desire. (I AM HORRIFIED BY HOW BAD I AM AT SUMMARIES. THIS SOUNDS LIKE A HORRIBLE ADVERTISEMENT FOR A PORNO OR SOMETHING. SMH)
Word Count: 2,460
A/N: As I had mentioned, Gray smacking that glue bottle did way too much to me, leaving me extremely hot under the collar so I just had to write about it. Apologies if there are typos, this is the fastest I have belted out an imagine. Hope this either fuels or satiates the desperation Grayson Bailey Dolan has ignited in all of us.
Requests are open as is criticism and feedback. Hope you enjoy reading it! xx 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, wondering for the thousandth time how Grayson had found this outfit. That it was short, was putting it lightly. That it was tight was evident from the way you were breathing. That it barely concealed anything was an understatement.

Sighing, you ruffled your hair one last time, thankful that it was long enough to hide your breasts that were almost out in the open, the halter not doing a good enough job of keeping them in.

Shaking your head, you stepped out of your room, heels clicking on the wooden floor as you headed to the main door, nervous to see how Gray would react.

Every month, Gray and you set one date night aside, where you’d leave your inhibitions at the door and let your darker, more intense and kinkier sides take dominance. Within weeks of dating each other, you both had realized this hidden persona that only you two were privy to. The more comfortable you became around each other, the hungrier you both became for that side to take control. A year and a half of dating later, you both had reached a stage where you both would desperately look forward to this night, knowing it would simultaneously satiate and make you crave more, like a thirst that could never quite be quenched.

For this particular evening, Gray had walked in to your shared room, his eyes already dark and heavy with anticipation. You were hunched over your laptop, focused on finishing your work when he came up behind you and placed the gift bag next to you. Your fingers frozen on the keyboard, you looked at him, a curious smile across your face. Like a cat that had caught its prey, he leaned against the table and motioned for you to see what was inside.  When you had pulled out the ‘outfit’, it took everything in you not to gasp in shock. This was a bit too much, even for you. Biting your lip, you looked at him, about to burst his balloon but the look on his face, the eagerness and desire so intense, you opted for a wink rather than the refusal perched on the tip of your tongue.

Grabbing your chin, Gray had kissed you long and hard before sauntering off, leaving you breathless.

And now here you were, walking towards him, feeling the already short dress, ride up even higher. Just before you rounded the corner and let Grayson see you decked up for him, you stopped and peered one last time at the mirror placed near the hallway. You tucked the lace peaking out from behind one of the straps and you smiled to yourself. Sure, Gray had chosen this outfit for you but he had know idea of the little surprise you had tucked away for him, come night-time.

When his eyes fell on you, Gray sucked in his breath, his cheeks turning a deep crimson, tongue slipping out to wet his lips. Placing your hand in his just as he extended it to you, he pulled you to him, one arm instantly wrapping around your waist, the other shimming down to your behind, cupping it.

“Damn,” was all he said before he pulled you out and towards the car.

Dinner was intense. Words were barely exchanged. The electricity so heavy in the air, one could almost feel the static. Gray’s eyes never left yours, taking in every movement, however slight it was. You in turn, teased him further, arms pressing against your chest, your cleavage demanding his attention, each time you leaned forward, the red of your lips making a show of sipping the wine that was further fuelling you on. You desperately tried not to let on just how hot he had you feeling, wearing an all black attire. He knew all too well, just how much it riled you up when he was decked in black from top to bottom, his shirt clinging to him in all the right places, buttons seemingly about to pop as they stretched over his gorgeous bronzed chest, arms almost ripping the seams, as they bulged every time he folded them.

By the time dinner was over, you were almost panting with desire, Grayson mirroring your need. The check couldn’t arrive fast enough and when it was paid for, Gray had pulled you out of your seat so fast; you wondered how you hadn’t tripped.

The car ride home was heavy with anticipation. Grayson’s hands gripped the steering wheel, while yours clenched the leather of the seat. Purposely, you pulled your hair, revealing your neck as you tucked it all to one side. He grit his teeth, giving away the effect you were having on him. Smirking, you untucked your legs, stretching them out, knowing how it made your dress go up. Grayson’s breathing intensified as you played him, letting your fingers gently trail over his thigh.

The moment he had the car parked, Gray was out and at your door in seconds. Not giving you time to step out, he threw you over his shoulder, hand smacking your behind. You yelped in surprise as he growled, “You have no idea what you’ve brought on yourself.”

One hand still holding your bum firmly against his shoulder, he unlocked the door with the other before storming in. Setting you down, he simply nodded to the bedroom door. You locked eyes with him, refusing to be that obedient. As he took a step closer to you, in an attempt to get you to listen, you raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

Making a show of it, you leaned down to take your heels off, refusing to break contact with his eyes. Standing upright, you let your hands slide up your frame, painfully slowly going to the back of your neck to undo the knot that held the fabric of your outfit from coming undone. Just as you felt the straps starting to unravel under your fingers, you turned and walked away, slowly and intentionally, knowing Grayson’s eyes were following you as you started to undress with every step you took.

In your bedroom, you stepped out of the dress and waited, your heart beating against your chest, excited for Grayson to see your surprise.

Walking into the bedroom, shirt untucked, belt unbuckled against his waistband, Gray stood, speechless, breath stuck in his throat. There you lay on the bed, dress on the floor. While he had expected you to be naked and ready for him, what he had not seen coming was you, draped in black lace. Like a second skin, the lace kissed and hugged you in all the right places, the lingerie doing a wonderful job of making Gray’s head swim, all intentions lost and out of the window.

Shaking his head, Gray walked towards you, hands grabbing your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

Tipping your head back, you simply stared. His eyes were molten with desire. They were fascinating, hypnotic. In fact, they so had your attention; you didn’t notice they were moving closer until a heartbeat before his lips covered yours.

It started with a tingling that erupted where your lips met, like a sparkler spitting out little flames of heat. Grayson’s arms slid around your back, pulling you closer, and his mouth opened over yours and the night exploded inside your head. That was the only way to describe it; heat and light and color all seemed to explode behind your eyes, and fire licked up your body as his tongue slid out to spread you lips and plunge between them.

At first you clung to each other as if you were each other’s lifelines in a stormy sea, but then you were left to cling to him alone as his hands began to move. Anywhere Grayson’s fingers roamed, your body burst into flame…and his hands were everywhere, moving with a swiftness that was almost dizzying, as if he wanted to touch all of you at once.

You gasped and moaned in turn, unconsciously thrusting your hips closer when his hands covered and squeezed your breasts, then tugging desperately at his shoulders and rising up on your knees when he dropped one hand to cup you between the legs and pressed upward, the thin lace of your negligee and panties, the only thing between them. That caress made you pant harder, making you kiss almost viciously, one of your own hands finally giving up its hold on his shoulder to scrape its way down his chest, clawing at the thin cloth of the shirt he had on. Already strained, the cloth gave away like film, the material spreading where it tore open. Feeling the coarse hair under your palm and the nub of a nipple, you tore your mouth away from Grayson’s and lowered your head to his chest instead, eager to taste his skin.

Your mind was filled with an insatiable hunger that had you licking his skin wherever your lips touched, your mind ablaze, barely hearing the startled curse that Grayson uttered. Reaching down suddenly, you clasped the hardness pressing against his tight black jeans. The sensations that shot through both of you had you tearing your mouth from his chest and seeking out his lips again for an almost violently demanding kiss.

You felt the lace of your negligee moving against the back of your legs and then Grayson’s hands were there, sliding upward and pushing the material ahead of them. Still, your eyes blinked open with surprise when he suddenly caught you by the back of the thighs and lifted you up, pulling your legs around his hips. Instinct kicked in and you crossed your ankles behind his back to keep from falling. You also withdrew your caressing hand from his trapped erection to clutch at his shoulders again. The moment you did, he suddenly turned with you.

You gasped into his mouth with surprise as your back slammed into the side of the wall. Pressing you against the wall, his hands left your thighs to grip your behind, nails digging in as they squeezed, grunts escaping Gray’s lips as his hands gripped you tighter, squeezing and kneading them alternatively, while his lips claimed yours again. Holding you against the wall with his lower body, one hand cupping you tightly under your bum, Grayson pulled back his upper body, his free hand tearing at the delicate lace, revealing your torso to the hot night air. You groaned deeply when he bounced you higher against the wall while lowering his head to claim your sensitive nipples, hands back to gripping your bum.

Gasping, you threw your head back almost knocking yourself out when it hit the wall. Grayson’s hand immediately reached out, cupping your head to prevent you from doing it again, his mouth never leaving your breast, never stopping as he drew and sucked, tongue flicking over the nipple the whole while.

It was enough to drive you crazy. You moaned and groaned, your hands caught in his hair and tugging, your hips moving and thrusting against his stomach now. Everything he was doing was leaving you breathless. Your entire body was humming with excitement and need. You were aching between your legs, wanting him inside you, wanting to feel his hot, hard body pressed into yours. As though reading your mind, Grayson pulled you away from the wall and towards the bed. Just as he placed you atop it, his arm wound around your midriff, flipping you over, so that your back was to him. Before you could react, you heard a whoosh, a burst of air before Gray’s hand came down on the cheek of your behind, slapping it. Arching your back, you mewled, the sting feeding the ache between your legs. Pushing back, you tried to sit up but Gray’s hand was already coming down again, the sting a little harder, his palm biting into the skin as it struck. Whipping your head, you turned to see him, expecting another cajoling slap. Instead, you saw him, eyes ablaze, shuffling out of his jeans and boxers before he was climbing behind you. Gripping you firmly by the waist with one hand, the other coming round to your front to press your back into his chest, Grayson nipped at your neck, licking it as he did. You squirmed, your breasts bouncing against his arm as he rocked you. The hand holding your waist slid lower, until his fingers finally fed the ache that was starting to destroy you from within. Flinging your head back on his shoulder, you pushed your center into his fingers, not having enough as they slid inside you with practiced ease.

Gasping for air, you felt your walls clench and your body go limp as his fingers continued to dance inside you. Had it not been for him holding you up, you would have collapsed on your side. Suddenly pulling out, Gray growled in your ear, “I’m not done with you yet, baby” before buckling your hips towards his and slamming himself inside you.

Unable to hold back the scream that escaped your lips, your hands fell back, gripping his thighs for support as he drove into you, harder with each thrust. While one hand went on to cup your breast, the other followed back to your core, drawing circles, heightening the fire that was burning inside you. Just as you were about to come undone again, his hand left your core, instead grabbing your behind once more, kneading it with calloused hands before striking it in tune with his thrusts. His grunts became harsher as did your pants until you came all over him, his own seed spilling inside of you, hot air ruffling the strands of hair that were sticking to your face as you lay there, head on his shoulder, back arched into his chest, his arm still holding you up, wound around your breasts, the other now gripping your butt.

“That’s my girl,” he gasped, placing a furtive kiss on your forehead, his chest heaving under your back as he tried to regain his breathing.

Still holding you against him, he rolled over, simultaneously pulling the covers over your naked bodies. Still slightly breathless, you lay on top of him, hands tucked under you, exhaustion seeping in.

“We need to have these particular kind of date nights more than just once a month,” Grayson said, pecking your lips.

You gently laughed in agreement, your fingers splaying over his chest, as you looked him in the eyes, your other hand cupping his face.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you,” Grayson repeated before kissing you again, harder…his body already stirring to show you once more, just how much.

He watched her from across the room. He watched her talk to her friends, sip water, laugh at jokes. He remembered when he was the reason for her smile, the type of smile that stopped a person dead in their tracks because it was just so damn beautiful. She was so damn beautiful. He remembered the feeling of that smile against his lips. He remembered going to parties like these and having her on his arm. From time to time she’d snuggle in deeper into his side and his grip would tighten around her waist. She’d look up at him and smile, he’d smile back down at her, as if time froze and it was just them in the room. But now. Now things are different. He watched her from across the room and watched her bite her lips while she was in the process of thinking. Watched her lick her lips after every bite of food. He could practically feel the heat radiating off of them. His body was on fire at just the thought of it. His body was on fire and his chest ready to explode because he wanted to know what she was talking about. He wanted to be the reason she was laughing. He wanted so badly to run up to her, grab her face, and pull her into the most depth-defying kiss ever. And he was this close to doing just that until he saw him. He saw him sit next to her and plant a deep kiss on her perfect lips. That’s when he went cold. His chest stopped exploding. His body went numb. The room was spinning. Everything was spinning spinning spinning and all he could see in his head, on loop, was another man kiss the woman that was supposed to be his forever.
—  the one that got away.
Not His Queen (part 1 of 6) | Roan x OC (NSFW)

[GIF not mine, found on the Internet]

Requested by @selldraug : Roan has a lover even if he’s going to get married to Y/N. His future wife doesn’t like this and shit happens

A/N: I know you already liked this, pervert, but I hope that rereading will be as good hahaha Also I loved writing this and I love the idea, so this is going to have some parts (I still don’t know how many).

Fandom: The 1OO. Pairing: Roan x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst (like, so much angst you’ll probably never read ansgt anymore when this story is finished). Mentions of cheating.

Word-count: 3025

Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five | Part six

Roan hadn’t been acting like himself lately and Aletheia feared one of the reasons was the arrival of the Sky People.

She couldn’t say she liked them. Skaikru were too different from them and it didn’t matter that they were open for a peace treaty, or that they wanted to be friends. Their differences were just too big in every single field of existence for the two sides to cohabitate on that planet.

Aletheia was skeptical and their Heda could say anything she wanted: she wasn’t there to accept that union. She was already skeptical about the Krus’ alliance - each clan wanted power: she knew it, Roan knew it, even Lexa knew it. An alliance wasn’t going to stop a faction from spilling the other’s blood. And she feared Azgeda would be the first to make a move.

The sound of boots on the stone floor shook her out of her thoughts.

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The body is not important. It is made of dust; it is made of ashes. It is food for the worms. The winds and the waters dissolve it and scatter it to the four corners of the earth. In the end, what we care most for only lasts a brief lifetime, and then there is eternity. Time forever. Millions of worlds are born, evolve, and pass away into nebulous, unmeasured skies; and there is still eternity. Time always. The body becomes dust and trees and exploding fire, it becomes gaseous and disappears, and still there is eternity. Silent, unopposed, brooding, forever.
—  Rudolfo Anaya, “Bless Me, Ultima”
First Love

Title: First Love

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Plot:  WANDA X FEM!READER! Someone is trying to confess to the other using the language of flowers. Up to you to decide who does what!

Warnings: Swearing

Originally posted by imagine-that-marvel

           Training was never easy. But for some reason, that particular day was more difficult than normal. Her body ached as Y/n walked back to her room, bag hanging from her shoulder as she pushed open the door to her room. It was dark and she couldn’t see anything, so she let her bag drop to the ground and flicked on the light switch.

           Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she noticed something sitting on the nightstand. Flowers. A whole bouquet of them. They were a vibrant pink hibiscus and as much as Y/n liked to act tough, they were beautiful.

           She approached them and carefully cupped one of the flowers in her hands, pulling it out of the vase and bringing it up to her nose. She inhaled the scent of the flowers, bringing a smile to her face. She searched the bouquet for some kind of indication of who the flowers could possibly be from and found a small white card buried in the petals.

           Hibiscus: Delicate Beauty

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Please don't leave (mini series part 2)

A/N: You tell Bellamy that you’re leaving camp; he panics and tries desperately to stop you.
Characters: Bellamy Blake, mentions of Clarke Griffin
Pairings: Bellamy x reader
Words: 1016
Spoiler(s): Season 2 finale
Warning(s): None
Prompt: One small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other.
Requested by: Anonymous and rebelkingandtrashprince

Your heart was breaking. Clarke was your closest friend, how could you keep fighting without her? You couldn’t. How could she leave you? How far had she gotten? You frantically shoved your belongings into a small backpack, the tears on your cheeks still wet from Clarke’s goodbye. You sniffed and brushed them away with the back of your hand. She couldn’t have gotten far, if you left right now, you could catch her, you could make her see that you were in this together.

For a moment, your thoughts wandered to those you were about to leave behind; Raven, Octavia, Monty, Jasper, Bellamy. Bellamy. Just his name made you ache, and you had to stop for a second to refocus yourself. Memories swam before your eyes and you fought to push them back. You couldn’t afford to drown right now, not when Clarke needed you to be rock solid. Bellamy had made his choice. You’d told him to decide what he wanted, and he hadn’t chosen you. No use crying over spilt milk, you told yourself. Bellamy was in the past, your future lay outside the comfortable life Camp Jaha promised. You slung your backpack over your shoulder and turned definitively towards your tent flap.

“Y/N!” Bellamy Blake called, pushing his way in to your tent. He looked from you to your bag, understanding flicking through his dark eyes, “You can’t.”

You sighed and kept searching your space for anything that you might’ve missed, “Clarke needs me Bellamy.”

“I need you!” Bellamy replied, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone, “We all need you!”

“No you don’t, Abby can take care of things on the medical front. I’m just dead weight at this point.” You tried to push past the boy but he held his arm out to stop you, “Get out of my way Blake.”

“No, not until you promise that you’re not leaving this camp.”

“Let me go Bellamy, this isn’t your concern.”

Now he was angry, “You are my concern Y/N.”

Suddenly, all the sadness and frustration and pain of the past few months flared up red hot, and the nights you spent curled up in your bed sobbing over Bellamy seemed closer than they should.

“No, I’m not.” You spat out, “You gave all that up Bell, remember?”

Bellamy’s eyes dropped to the floor and he at least had the good sense to look ashamed.

“Y/N I-“

“Just move.” You cut in, “We’re wasting time, every second you keep me here, Clarke gets further and further away.”

You tried, once again to move past the boy, and this time he let you. You’d taken two steps, your fingers holding the tent open when you felt a hand curl around your wrist.

Bellamy was looking at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat, even now. His eyes clung to you desperately, like you were the rope that kept him hovering above the flames.

He knew, you realized, he knew that if you stepped out of that tent, you weren’t coming back. Slowly, Bellamy let go of your wrist and stepped closer towards you.

“I was wrong okay?” He said, his voice starting to crack, “I was wrong to let you walk out of my life the way you did.”

You were frozen, unable to even breathe.

“I thought that-I thought being a leader meant being alone. I thought it meant not needing anyone, but I was wrong!” he reiterated, encouraged by the fact you hadn’t walked out on him yet, “I need you. I need to wake up every morning and know that, at some point, I’ll see your face. I need to hear you laugh at something stupid that Jasper said. I need to be able to walk into this tent and have you throw me out because you’re busy with something else. I need all of that Y/N, I need it, because you remind me why I’ve done the things I’ve done. You remind me of why I fight, every day, to keep us alive.” Bellamy took another step closer, you could almost feel his breath on your face, “Please Y/N,” he said, tiredness and vulnerability colouring his tone, “please, I can’t do this without you.”

You wanted to talk, you honestly did, but words wouldn’t form. You simply stood there and let Bellamy’s confession rush over you. The boy took your silence as an answer, his hands sliding over your cheeks to cup your face.

“Please.” He whispered again, but you weren’t sure what he was asking anymore.

Bellamy pulled your face to his, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Fireworks exploded in your mind, your whole body felt like it was on fire and, when the kiss ended, you couldn’t help but sigh.

Bellamy Blake was desperate, you could see it in his eyes, he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“Please stay.” He whispered.

So much was laced into those two words, everything that he couldn’t find the strength to say to you. You had always communicated like this, your eyes saying the things that words couldn’t. Bellamy had just told you he loved you, and you’d heard him.

“Okay.” You replied.

That was all it took. Bellamy’s lips crashed into yours, your hands clung to his t-shirt and you sighed into the kiss. Bellamy forced your lips open with his own, running his tongue over your lip until you allowed him access. All that existed was Bellamy Blake and this kiss and the unbelievable peace that Bellamy always leant to your mind. You pulled away, your time on earth having made you too suspicious to accept such a seemingly perfect moment.

“Why now?” you asked, “Why not before?”

Bellamy swallowed hard and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I thought that keeping you away would make me stronger as a leader and that that would help me protect you.”

“And now?”

“Now,” Bellamy smiled shyly, “I’ve realized that loving you could never make me weak.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “You’ve always been my greatest strength.”

Prompt: Valentine and his army manage to catch a group of warlocks by surprise, in season 2. Magnus pain unleashes more than tears

No. Magnus feels it suddenly, like a shard of glass in his heart. The pain, the loss, it hits him all at once, and he nearly falls to his knees. He can hear Alec’s voice behind him, but the words are muddled by his the sound of his own pulse. So many-god so many of them. There is a bitter taste of acid in his mouth, the smell of death swarms his senses.

The cool New York air, lifts the sweat forming on his forehead. His hands are shaking and he feels more lost than he has ever felt before in his lifetime. He never thought he would feel like this again. Not after the revolt. Not after the genocide of hundreds, thousands of his people. He can sense each one of them pass on. The children. God-the children. His friends that he has known for centuries.

Magnus’s shoulders loosen when Alec’s hand rests on his tense shoulders. He turns to Alec. Worried hazel eyes meet his, and begins to realize that his eyes are getting blury. Tears are flowing down his face, tears he has bottled up for centuries, too numbed from the pain he has felt as a downworlder in the midst of a war. Uncertain fingers wipe the wetness from his cheek, and Magnus leans into the touch greedily.

Several moments between them, an unspoken message. Magnus pulls away. He feels the gnawing in his body, the need for release. The change is something he embraces, he once didn’t use to. But, that was a long time ago…a very long time ago. His eyes blink to their feline yellow that he was born with. A mark that shows him to be a warlock-a downworlder.

Magnus can hear them coming from across the field and rubble of the open courtyard. Valentine is  leading his army of murderers. His eyes search for a blond haired boy. Jace. The sharp intake behind Magnus, tells him that Alec has spotted his parabatai. He follows Alec’s eyes to see the Wayland boy being dragged by two burly shadowhunters, his arms tied behind him. His hair has gotten longer, and no longer did it have the golden color it used to. It was now a limp dull color, that reminded Magnus of death. The boy looked defeated. 

His eyes land on Valentine. He never thought that he would see this man again. This vile excuse of a person. The eerie calmness of the man’s expression as he walked past bodies of warlocks he had slaughtered, made Magnus want to unleash hell. He would unleash hell. The shadowhunters stop only 50 feet away, all in formation. Valentine gives a small signal to his side. That’s when the two shadowhunters holding Jace, force him forward in front of the formation. Magnus’s heart breaks, the boy can  barely stand. He hears Alec take a step forward. Magnus already knows that Alec already has his hand on his bow.

In a loud voice, Valentine addresses them, “What a heartwarming sight to see, fellow shadowhunters and downworlders working together. It’s touching.Truly.”

Valentine walks to Jace, and unties the bounds behind him. 

“You see, my son here, thinks that it’s even more touching. That he thought he could undermine me to try to warn your fellow…fallen warlocks here before we attacked. As you can see-” Valentine gestures to the bodies around them “-he failed. And you all will too,” he says with a satisfied grin.

The man pushes Jace forward.

“I have no need for him. That is why I’m showing him mercy. You see, I could have killed him. I should have killed him. Just like I killed his disgrace of a mother and father, years ago.”

Jace turns around sharply, almost losing his footing. Behind him, Magnus can hear the murmurs of confusion behind him from Simon, Clay, and the rest of them. But, he himself feels no surprise. Of course a man like Valentine would kill innocent people, taking their own son from them, raise the boy as his own, abusing him and teaching him lessons painful discipline, then to later lie to his own daughter that he and the boy were siblings. Magnus scoffs in disgust.

Jace looked like he wanted to claw Valentine’s face off, but he was too weak, too broken. His turned forward to face them. His eyes searched for the one person that would give him strength to endure. Alec tried to push his way forward, but Magnus stops him. 

Magnus shakes his head, “no one else is going to get hurt, Alec. Stay back. I will bring him to you,” he says without looking at the frustrated man beside him. He feels Alec struggle mentally and physically to stay put, but after some quick moments, Magnus feels him back down.

He removes himself from the group, a group consisting of vampires, werewolves, the remaining warlocks in new york, seelies (some), and shadowhunters (some). Clary managed it. What a proud biscuit she has made him. The walk to the middle of the field felt like a weight of rocks at his feet, forcing him to the bottom of the dead sea. His fingers tingle. 

Jace is walking gingerly across the field to him. Just a little bit more, and Magnus can put his protection ward around the boy, while also healing him. A little trick he learned from his dear friend Catarina. There. Magnus snaps his finger and throws the ward around Jace. It looked almost like a big blue bubble ball around Jace. Magnus pushed the protection ward behind him, sending it to the rest of the group. Now, he was the only thing in front of Valentine and his army and he wanted to destroy. 

To unleash the hurt, the pain, the devastation that this man and his followers have down to his people and thousands of innocents. It felt like a rush of ecstasy, the feeling of his power that he has not let seduce his hands in a very long time. He lifted his left hand in front of him, the sounds of Alec and the rest of them behind him filled the surrounding space. Magnus used his other hand to create a ring of fire around them, that only those of Lilith’s blood could pass through. The sounds around him are murky, as he watches Valentine signaling the army to attack. 

Everything happens in slow motion. The other warlocks around him are unleashing their powers around him, different colors ranging from red, blue, purple, yellow, and all the colors one can imagine. He feels their strength in his heart, and he uses that to channel the power inside of him to do a spell that he has promised himself he would never cast. 

The wind picks up around him as he lifts his right hand, overlapping it with his left. An ancient rune appears on his palm, it burns, but somehow it warms his body to it’s core. Then it explodes. Blue waves of fire bursts through him like a dragon of folklore. It cascades across the field, wiping out Valentine and his army as if they were merely ants. Magnus feels every single warlock and downworlder, and even shadowhunter who has been victim of Valentine Morgenstern, and he uses it to surge the fire further, until every single single person in front of him is merely dust on the ground.

The mark fades from his hand, and his body drains of energy. Then everything goes black.

“It is finished.”