#scarletxscarab

[steven-with-a-vee]

He looked down at her. Into her beautiful brown eyes that seemed so much more alive, vivid, gorgeous than anything else he had ever seen and carded his hand through the halo-like curls that made her seem goddess-like.

“...What about her, love?”

[seekesotsibteadmist]

@scarletxscarab

[x]

Saima gave Layla a small nod, glad to have given her space to speak on what troubled her. Their eyes casually drifted between the passerby and back to her as she spoke to them.

They nodded a little more to show that they understood what she was talking about. “Yeah, I.. I do understand that feeling. When there was so much heartbreak and not a whole lot you could do about it, cutting ties can be the healthier decision as hard as it is.“

It brought back for them a few moments where they had to be on the run, not out of choice, but of sheer necessity. Usually, they would have stuck around to help in whatever way they could. But some years, there were some years where that was definitely not an option as terrible as it is to think about them.

[sebastianshaw]

At approximately 8:00 PM, Layla would receive a phone call. ”Ms. El-Faouly. This is Mr. Shaw. I will be arriving at your residence by helicopter in no less than an hour and a half. Use this time to pack any essentials you will need, and secure the artifact I entrusted you with. It seems there are other parties than myself interested in the answers it---and you---hold, and they too will soon be on their way. I assure you, you will be compensated additionally for this if you survive.” A week ago---only five days, actually---the industrial billionaire had contacted the archaeologist. He had come into possession through rather mysterious means of something he desired to be studied and explained to the best of Layla’s ability. The “something” was a key that appeared to be made of glass and set with sapphires, but the “glass” was in fact an indestructible substance unknown to man. And the design of the key was distinctly alien in nature, elaborate and ornate, rather Art Nouveau, yet carbon-dating would reveal that it was from far, far before that style had been invented. . . and in fact, far before human civilization was supposed to have begun. Shaw alleged it had been found in the depths of the Persian Gulf, but beyond that was vague on just how he had obtained it, and why he was so interested in it. But he was very adamant that Layla not speak of it to anyone, even going so far as to press a non-disclosure agreement upon her. It seemed someone else did know that it was in her possession, however. Someone who, according to Shaw, was coming for it. . .and her.  As promised though, he got there first, his helicopter announcing his arrival within half the tme he’d promised. ”Ms. El-Faouly,” he said from where he perched halfway down the rope ladder, and though he had to shout to be heard over the whirring blades, he sounded perfectly calm, ”Please board immediately. Be sure you bring the key. All will be explained, but at the moment, your life is in danger, and it would be very inconvenient for us BOTH if you died now.” @scarletxscarab

[avcngingknight]

“I’ve got you” [x]

           Marc’s chest felt tight—like all the air was being squeezed out of it. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs felt like they were burning...like they were going to explode and he was such an idiot because he was failing to do something so basic. Breathing was easy—so easy in fact, that the body did it without having to think about it. But oh no. Not for him. Because he was too stupid and too fucking broken to function like a normal human being. 

          Tears stung at the corner of his eyes. He wanted to wipe them away before they had a chance to fall, but it required more brain power than he currently had. It was taking everything in him to not completely unravel. He was far too focused on trying to breathe to be able to stop himself from crying. He wished he could. Maybe then it would make his breathing problem easier to fix. 

          Marc didn’t like being in this state. He hated it when a nightmare would jolt him awake and he was left to deal with the after effects of that pain and fear. He hated it even more when @scarletxscarab​​ was around to witness it. It’s not that he didn’t want her around. He loved Layla with all his heart. This wouldn’t be the first panic attack she had seen—he doubted it would be the last—but he’d always been able to write it off as PTSD from being in the military. He couldn’t do that anymore. Not now she knew the truth; about Steven, about what was really wrong with him.

          He wanted to run away, to hide somewhere so he could fall apart in private. But  before he could—he felt her arms envelop him and those three small words broke him. Marc let out a choked sob and clung to her tight enough to leave small finger sized bruises. He felt Steven start to stir but pushed him back. As much as he would love to switch out, right now he needed this. He needed to be with Layla; even if all his instincts were telling him to run from her. Not out of fear. Marc knew Layla would never hurt him. It was shame that made him want to flee. Shame and guilt for waking her up.

          He’d promised to be more open and honest with her. It was hard, but if he wanted to make this relationship work, he needed to trust her with this part of himself. Marc had managed these nightmares without Steven fronting for years...he could do it again. Not forever of course; but just for tonight. ❝ Lay—❞ He couldn’t get any words out around the sobs, but he hoped the message got across. Marc needed her. He needed to know it was going to be okay. He needed to know that he was safe.

[abrushwithdeath]

@scarletxscarab​​ liked this post for a short starter !

“No offense, but I don’t think a band aid’s gonna be ‘nough t’fix that…” Then again, maybe this girl was one’a those superheroes lucky enough to be able to heal ‘erself? Seriously, Rogue had no idea. It was hard enough keepin’ track’a other mutants and their abilities, much less anyone she hadn’t formally met yet.

[sebastianshaw]

" HEY! HEY!!! stay the fuck away from my woman, say that shit again and I will break your jaw."

Shaw regarded the stranger calmly, and then pulled out his cell phone with one hand, and with the other, held up one finger, "A moment, sir. I wish to check something." He typed something into his phone with his too-big fingers, read it, nodded, and then re-pocketed the device. "As I thought. Owning people hasn't been legal in this country for QUITE some time. So while I don't know who "your" woman is, she's free to be addressed by whomever. But if you're so dead-set against anyone doing so, I suppose perhaps you should lock her up and not allow her in public, seeing as how she's "yours". Maybe make her wear a collar and carry a great big sign saying "Property of Such & So, Do Not Talk To Me"? In all seriousness, whomever she is, she has my sympathies for enduring the existence of such a churlish lout as yourself." @lock8key @scarletxscarab

[steven-with-a-vee]

"Oh..." It was a soft gasp, a noise of delight as his fingers slipped between her lips. Layla knew she was wet, but just how much was a bit of a surprise as he started feeling her, spreading it. "Steven..." She murmured his name, wrapping her arms around his neck. She wanted to say more, but held back. He could have her as he pleased this time, even if she was on the verge of urging him on. She wanted him to do it with that confidence he'd shown.

He gave a faint smile, breathing shakily as she held on to him, leaning in to brush his lips against hers, his fingers slipping out of her as he reached to pull down her panties, dragging them a little more roughly than he would have usually treated her clothing pulling them down her legs. "...You...you sure you want me to do this?" he asked, his eyes opening as he met her eyes, wanting to ensure her comfort before anything else.

[steven-with-a-vee]

She climbed onto the bed with him. "Steven..." She started, but pulled his face to hers, kissing him before she said anything else. On the bed and with a goal in mind, and with his reactions so far, Layla was a little less nervous than before. This time she was a little more forward, as he was being so too. Her fingernails raked down his back, firm even through his shirt, and her hands cupped his ass, giving it a squeeze before one slid around to his front, feeling him through his pants.

He climbed on after her, crawling towards her, waiting for her to speak, but when she pulled him in and kissed him, he wrapped his arms around her instinctively, with care, as if she were made of foam and he was afraid to squeeze her.

Feeling her nails down his back, he shuddered instinctively, the feeling of her fingertips, the slightly sharpened tips, squeezing his arse and feeling the uncomfortable swelling at the front of his trousers. He gave the slightest yelp as she did that, still very much getting used to being touched like that. "...S-Sorry love..." he half-whispered, half-chuckled. "...Still not used to it..."

He moved in for another kiss, and hesitantly ran his hand down her waist, towards the waistline of her underwear, and cautiously slipped his fingertips into the waistband.