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Scouts

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"I probably look like one because I am one." Mark paused, head tilting slightly. "Well... more a typist than a penciller, but I do typically work at a desk."

Honestly, he was as out of his depth as he looked. All Lumon had provided in terms of protection was one of their trusty shields clipped to Mark's belt and a sidearm hidden in a shoulder holster.

"I come from Earth-- um, Gaia." It took some time to get used to the universal term, but Mark pushed on. "I'm a Lumon man. Shields and health hypos, you know.

"I was told there were probably some folks here in need of them...?"

... Oh shit, he wasn't just some bandit.

... Apologies were definitely in order.

"Pandora. It's... Nothing you can get exposed to. I thought you were a bandit. But I think it's because I was born on a different planet, came here part of a forced mining task force, locked inside a cave for-"

Woah now, no trauma dumping!

"It only spreads through spores. So you're fine for right now. Keep away from me if you don't want to be symbiosed too."

Casually he takes a drink of- huh. Water.

Probably for the plants.

"Where're ya from, kid? You look like a corporate pencil pusher, no offense, so what brings you here?"

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"Uh-- no, I've actually just... never seen a plant like that before."

Mark smiled sheepishly. "What planet is it from?"

"... What, never seen a man being symbiotic with a plant before? Stop staring."

Someone's not impressed!

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Party Down 1x01 - 3x01

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' I revolt you, don't I? ' // @vhsminx, from here.

Mark blinked, slow, then furrowed his brows.

"I don't know what you mean."

After all, he'd been comfortable enough drinking in silence by the woman's side. Though he'd noticed a few glances his way, he hadn't bothered questioning them; frankly, he felt too much like shit to pretend like he cared about what he looked like any more.

"You're pretty, so..." Mark chuckled, half-tipsy, and swirled the whiskey balanced precariously between his fingertips. "Shit, did you do anything I'm supposed to be disgusted over?"

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Honestly, Mark had expected Jimmy to look softer than he was.

So there was a surprised tick to his brows once Jimmy pulled clothes off himself-- his stomach was still tight, his waist was slim, and the sight of how plump his ass was made Mark's stomach twist with a want he thought he only felt for football quarterbacks.

"Jesus." He didn't bother hiding his attraction, not when he already had Jimmy lying back in his underwear. Mark's teeth dragged over his lip as he shrugged his jacket off and lowered himself onto the mattress. Without missing a beat, both his hands settled on either side of Jimmy's hips, and he leaned in enough to kiss him sweetly on the mouth.

"I'm almost annoyed at how hot you are."

But not enough to keep from pulling his own shirt off and tossing it aside.

Mark was predictably slim, though his stomach was firm and his legs were carved by running. Callused hands shamelessly groped down Jimmy's front, fingertips brushing idly over both nipples before drifting to Jimmy's hips. Mark's thumbs stroked the lines of his Adonis belt, and when he dipped his head he was good enough to kiss Jimmy's stomach instead of playing with his tits.

He was reverent without being slow; Mark's lips kissed down Jimmy's navel, lower and lower until he could trace the swell of his cock with the tip of his nose. The scent of his sex was delightful-- Mark even let himself moan, more for Jimmy's pleasure than anything, as he mouthed at the shape of him through his underwear.

With one hand on the inside of Jimmy's right thigh, Mark kept his leg pushed to the side. His other hand gripped the base of his cock over his briefs, and with his gaze flicking up to meet Jimmy's, the flat of Mark's tongue stroked the length of him from the bottom all the way to the top.

Then, teasing, it pressed into the slit.

Jimmy's eyelids parted slightly as he heard the pause in Mark's words, suddenly realizing just how shitty his space looked. He knew he didn't exactly care about the clothes strewn over the random chair or across the floor on the regular, but he wasn't such an ass that he kept it that way whenever he had someone over.

Hell, his shit being everywhere was half of the reason he ended up at his hook-up's place.

Still, even Jimmy knew well enough that he should at least feel a bit ashamed for the state of his apartment. He ducked his head slightly and scratched the back of his neck before offering a softly mumbled, "Sorry, didn't realize I'd have company tonight."

Before stealing another kiss, he began to unbutton his pants as he was instructed to take his pants off. It was a practiced and swift motion as he tossed them to the side- as he so clearly did with every other article of clothing he'd removed from himself since he'd last done laundry.

Jimmy even went the extra mile and pulled his shirt off as well.

With a soft grunt, he moved onto the bed, waiting for Mark to tell him what he wanted him to do next.

Admittedly, he was fucking excited. The way Mark's hand on his cock, even though it had a thick layer of denim between, felt way better than really anyone's felt in the past... well, he couldn't remember the last time actually cared about him getting off.

"I'm feeling a little underdressed," Jimmy cooed with a shit-eating grin on his lips, hoping he'd coax Mark into taking some of his own clothes off as well. Granted, there was something kind of hot about the thought of the younger staying in his outfit, but that also came with a thought of him on top of him that Jimmy wasn't ready to acknowledge.

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To Mark, this was inevitable.

They suffered together, recovered together, built a life together, and though for a while Mark feared losing her if he breached the comfortable balance they'd created, Jennifer mattered so much that he couldn't have enough of her.

A part of him wondered if he ought to be taking it slower. Another part, loving and passionate and nothing short of obsessed, said they had the rest of their lives for slow.

As he kissed her neck, caressing her jaw with his prosthetic and stroking her waist with his flesh hand, laying claim to her felt natural. And when Jennifer shifted from him, and her own fingers undid the zipper keeping her hidden, Mark's heart jumped to his throat as his eyes shone in nothing short of awe.

Show me, she said, sweet and taunting in that way only Jennifer could be.

So Mark grinned, traced her bottom lip with his prosthetic thumb ("Yeah," he breathed), and dipped his head to kiss her on the mouth. The hand on Jennifer's face moved away to undo her bra and pull it off, and with two kisses to the tops of her breasts both flesh and metal palms bracketed her waist to claim her.

Mark didn't waste any time; he kissed down Jennifer's stomach, sucking and licking and marking her skin, then dragged his teeth down her navel until they caught the hem of her panties. His thumbs hooked into the garter where it rested on her hips, rolled it down inch by inch, and Mark sucked kisses down Jennifer's skin until he could lick a stripe along the line of her pussy.

@macrodatum sent ❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜

Before her life had taken such a DARK turn, there had always been an appeal to hint of possessiveness. There had been a present NEED to be wanted, securely desired by someone that made the world stop spinning in its trauma for a moment even before. But now, that desire seemed to have grown, his words inspiring a heat within as he spoke.

They were in her apartment, a mess of kisses had led to her legs wrapped around him as she laid back on her seemingly sturdy kitchen table. Maybe it was that lack of typical places of hooking up that still had a bit of Jennifer's old flair attached to it.

Her hand moved to unzip the zipper on the front of her body that held the tightly wrapped dress around her form. As she watched it fall to the sides, she bit her lower lip. Her blue eyes found his with her head cocked to the side.

"Can you SHOW me how much of me is yours, Mark?"

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@whatthefuckdidido

“I can make him better” “I can make him worse” I can have him gripping the sheets and arching his back

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90% of sufferers quit right before they figure out how to give their suffering meaning

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It took everything in Mark not to grin like a fucking lion, and after snatching the case of beer off the bench he was right on Jimmy's heels (his open can stayed behind-- at this point, it no longer mattered).

As they ran, Mark behaved, staying close enough Jimmy wouldn't worry he was elsewhere without reaching for his hand. Only when they were in the safety of the man's building did he reach to twine their fingers together, encouraging Jimmy with a grin to keep going.

"I'm right behind you."

When Jimmy finally got the door to his apartment open, Mark didn't wait to invite himself in and shut the door behind him. That was how these things worked, after all-- it was about momentum, about contact, and about putting the god damn case of beer down so he could pull Jimmy in by the belt loop and kiss him again.

Without the world around them to deter him from contact, Mark's hands made quick work of Jimmy's belt. He leaned up, bit his lip, and then defiled his mouth as soon as Jimmy's lips parted for him. He was close, so close, and as he tugged the man's belt free and tossed it haphazardly, a bold hand over Jimmy's still thickened cock had Mark laughing with glee.

"Fuck," he breathed, hand sliding down to feel the swell of Jimmy's balls before giving the full length of him a squeeze. "Get on your--"

Couch, he thought.

"--bed," he ended up saying, awed at the set-up around him. Piles of clothes, miscellaneous mess, and that god damn mattress on the floor... what the fuck was Jimmy's problem?

There was no way he had anyone important in his life, right?

"Take your pants off, Jimmy."

Shit. Fuck. He's all mine.

Jimmy knew he was easy, but the way his mouth slacked as Mark began to jerk him off through his jeans and the way he bore his neck to the other as he began to kiss it was something very new for him.

In truth, Jimmy was certain that night was going to be boring and lonely when Bunk had left him, but there was something magnetic about Mark. Every kiss, every touch, ever whispered praise and promise, all of it was enough to drive Jimmy crazy in the best possible way.

At the offer to suck him off, Jimmy swore he almost came then and there. After all, if the way his tongue essentially violated his mouth was any indication of what was to come, Jimmy knew he was in for a great night. It had been far too long since someone had sucked him off, and, shit, if it didn't feel nice that Mark seemed to want it just as much as he did.

"Shit, that's the hottest thing I've ever heard," Jimmy rasped lowly, tone gravelly with unabashed desire.

As eager as he was, it admittedly took him several moments too long to realize that he probably should be getting up. He leaned in and kissed Mark with everything he had before he actually moved to lead them to his own place.

Granted, the walk was pretty damn uncomfortable considering how hard he was in his jeans. He couldn't help but thank any higher entity that was listening that they were at least close to his apartment.

And, perhaps, it didn't help that he was all but running to get there.

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Easy, Mark thought, tonguing Jimmy nice and slow and simple. The friction between them, even with the layer of their clothing, made him sigh. It wasn't nearly enough on its own, but there was something to be said about Jimmy's willingness to move for him-- and the way that, as Mark's hands remained firmly on his ass, how obediently the Jimmy's hips rolled with his guidance.

"Good boy," Mark breathed, nosing Jimmy's cheek before he started sucking on his neck. Though every ounce of him wanted to suck until a bruise was left behind, Mark wasn't merciless; Jimmy might have to go into work tomorrow, and at worst all Mark wanted to be to him was a drunken mistake Jimmy could deny ever happened.

Even if the man's hardening cock was enough proof he was enjoying it. (Then again, it wasn't ever enjoying sex that was the problem, was it?)

"Shit." His voice was a satisfied purr, low and warm even as Mark dragged his front teeth down the swell of Jimmy's bottom lip. "You're eager."

One hand rose to curve possessively around the back of Jimmy's neck. The other, shameless, came around to trace its fingers along the head of his dick through his pants.

"So fucking hot, Jimmy."

Mark's palm rubbed against him, grinding firm against Jimmy's cock until it was hard enough for him to grip, uniform and all.

"If you're gonna take me home, lemme suck you off," he whispered, kissing Jimmy sweet even as he started jerking him lazy (come on, straight boy, come take the bait). "Yeah?

"You wanna fuck my mouth, right? I'll take it good." Another kiss, shameless. "I will. I want to."

Jimmy had always known he was needy in intimacy. The want to be wanted was what drove him in far too many parts of his life- hell, it's why he had kids before he was ready to settle down, why he got into trouble at work all of the time, and why he couldn't stay faithful to a wife he did genuinely love.

But Mark so easily gave everything Jimmy needed. Even if it was driven by his own selfish desire, Mark still kissed Jimmy breathless, made him feel like he was all that mattered in those moments with each touch and hold.

It was easy for Jimmy to give in, even in spite of the apprehensions that were in his gut. They melted away with each swipe of their tongues and possessive squeeze and stroke of Mark's hand.

Mark was right, after all. If you feel good, then it’s good. It's what he always used to justify himself, even the shitty stuff. What's the difference then?

The Fuck left Jimmy's mouth only to be immediately silenced by Mark's as he felt the younger grind into him, and if there was anything holding him up at that point, it vanished without a trace. One hand gripped the front of Mark's shirt as the other steadied himself on Mark's shoulder as he began to grind back down against his partner for the evening.

He should've been concerned about someone he knew catching them, but in that moment, the only thing he could focus on was how hard he was getting writhing on some college student's lap.

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As he breached the door to these special quarters, Harmony (his Harmony-- or so he'd begun to address her to Jame despite the man's insistence) was, as she always had been, impossible to tear his eyes away from. Even without the way her song seeped into him, warm like soup as it slid straight to his gut, Mark would have approached her regardless; if he could live the rest of his days in her pool, he would, damn the crown, his House, and every obligation he ever had.

This was where he felt most at peace now: slipping into the water, listening to Harmony's ethereal voice, and feeling those scaled fingers part his legs so she could rise delicately between them. Mark smiled when their foreheads touched, wasting no time to take both sides of her face in either of his hands. He wanted to kiss her (damn the crown), and leaned in to do just that, but the words Harmony breathed into the space between their lips halted him with a shiver.

Breeding, she said. I need you inside, she said. Mark's throat bobbed against the top of her head, sick with want.

And if he could spare any thought that didn't centre around her, he would have damned the crown here, too.

Instead, Mark allowed himself to laugh. "Why would I pretend?" he asked, one hand lifting to card through the peculiar texture of Harmony's hair and pulling gently to get her to look up at him.

"I do smell them." He didn't, but he wished he did. Comfortable in Harmony's hold, and trailing his lips down her temple, Mark's nostrils flared as he took in a breath of her and nipped at her ear.

"Smell you. I'm so glad--"

With one hand bringing Harmony close, the other dipped into the water, absently squeezing at her breast before running delicately over her belly. Mark knew where her slit was now, and fingers rough from swordplay teased at it without quite spreading her open.

"--you'll be carrying our pups again, love."

Yes, came his silent agreement to her sweet request. Yes, for you I'd do anything.

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This song was low, and haunting, and new — some stranger, almost primal sound that seemed to fill the great room where her enclosure was kept. Harmony ( as they had called her ) was laid out on one of her rocks, blues eyes fixed on the impressive door. At the realization that it was opening, she rose up onto the flat of her hands. Her singing did not break until Harmony saw that it was Mark coming in. Even then, it seemed as if the notes hung in the air, like a beckoning finger.

The mermaid waited near the base of the stairs that led down into her deep man - made home. Her fins occasionally broke the surface, flashes of deep blue, turquoise, and vibrant orange ; those that were more delicate, with webbing akin to a fine gossamer fabric, sent the low lamp - light spinning across the surface of the water.

Harmony crept closer once Mark sat, clawed fingers hauling her body up when it became too shallow to swim properly. She grasped Mark's knees, spread them, and emerged from in that space. The mermaid's massive tail wrapped behind the royal, surrounding him in her cool and shimmering scales. As her face appeared, she trilled at him. Harmony's pointed teeth flashed as she gently bumped her brow against his.

This close, it was easy to see that Mark's hard work was paying off : Harmony looked beautiful. No longer just ornamental, as she had when she was delivered — no, she was healthy. Alive. Her colors and eyes were significantly brighter, hair smoother, and it appeared as though she was now a healthy weight. At least, she was not so sickly and thin.

❝Did you like that one ?❞ Harmony asked. Her words were slow but spoken clearly. ❝It is for males, to tempt them to . . . share time with us and our eggs. Your word for this — breeding.❞ The mermaid's palms swept along Mark's thighs, and she tilted her head. ❝Mark — I don't have eggs, but I can still feel that I want you. All of this heat in my belly . . . it wants you.❞ Harmony looked almost pained then. She nuzzled beneath Mark's chin, claws digging into his fragile flesh. ❝Can we pretend again, Mark ? That you can smell I have eggs for you to seed ? I — need you. Inside.❞

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SEVERANCE (2022–) Season 2 Opening Title Sequence Designed by Oliver Latta

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Devon has assigned Melissa the most important task of them all during that day: keeping Mark distracted and away from his home, where his surprise birthday party was being organized. The youngest Scout insisted that only Melissa had the power to ask Mark for something and get him to do precisely that (instead of the opposite).

So the aspiring actress abused that skill: she dragged the poor man all over campus over the most ridiculous tasks for her drama classes, then convinced him to give her a ride for some shopping around town, then finally to stop at a bakery so she could pick up a package for Devon, who coincidentally called her on the way (it was the cake, smuggled right under his nose into his own party).

By the time Mark walked over the steps to his own house so Melissa could drop her things with Devon, he was welcomed by the traditional screaming and party popper sounds (including the excited cheer from his friend at his back). The actress-in-the-making turned out to be the first one to hug him and wish a happy birthday (finally putting an end to the charade as to whether she had forgotten about the occasion or not), then getting inside to help Devon set up the cake.

Mark took the time to speak to the other guests then - old college friends, some other people he knew through his sister, a couple of colleagues from his recent teaching position. Melissa found him eventually, grinning wildly and pulling him into another hug before kissing the man on his left cheek and pressing an envelope against his chest upon separation.

"That is my actual birthday gift for you - tickets to a double David Fincher session at the old drive-in. 'Seven' and 'Fight Club' back to back with a lot of popcorn. It's all on me - it starts at midnight," the girl winked, fully aware of what it meant - he would need to ditch his own birthday party, but something told her that Mark would welcome the way out, "I will come steal you half an hour before it," the brunette's hand moved up, pressing a finger to Mark's lips, "Don't tell Devon." // @stingslikeabee

Ever since Devon started her part-time job, she’d made a point to begin spoiling him. Mark now received invitations to join her for dinner (where Devon promised to beat the shit out of him if he pulled his wallet out), no longer gave her gas money, and constantly argued with her over who paid for what when they hung out—a pain in the ass, certainly, but he was glad that his sister was confident enough to assert herself.

When Melissa invited him to go with her on his birthday, he wasn’t totally blind to what that might mean. Last year, Devon’s first birthday treat for him had been a stack of gift cards for his favourite ice cream place in town (and considering it was a Mum ‘n Pop shop that didn’t even make gift cards regularly, Mark knew Devon had to have done something to convince them to do it). And because he knew his sister was competitive enough to enjoy one-upping herself, he was prepared to be suitably surprised with whatever she came up with today. What better distraction was there than the woman Mark had begun daydreaming more regularly about? Devon had teasingly warned him before not to go breaking her best friend’s heart; Mark, refusing to accept his little sister was right about anything, had only wrinkled his nose and said he was innocent.

The hours spent by Melissa’s side really were a gift on their own, though. Most people rued busy days like these, but for Mark (who had gone on leave from his job at the local high school at Devon’s insistence), running around Ganz College again was as nostalgic as it was fun. It took a significant level of intimacy to join someone on their day-to-day goings on; Mark didn’t care that Melissa wasn’t treating him special, not when he felt special to have the whole day with her, just the two of them, to begin with.

Though he recognised Devon’s efforts later to throw him a surprise party, it hadn’t affected him nearly as much as getting to see Melissa with her friends, and colleagues, and simply running errands as a person should. Even as he spoke with people (and he really was grateful they came), in the back of his mind all he could think about was Melissa’s laugh, and Melissa’s hand pulling his arm, and how everyone in the room could fuck off if it meant he could get Melissa to hang out on the couch and watch movies with him.

That said, it made her gift seem like fate.

Their fingers brushed when Mark moved to take the envelope against his chest, just as gentle as her mouth had been on his cheek. Mark didn't have the time to think about that contact, though; the promise of movies for the two of them, alone, made him smile too big, too happy.

Damn it.

"Melissa--" There was a thank you there somewhere, caught in his throat as she stepped away and disappeared back into the bustling living room. Mark watched her go with a question in his chest-- would you go out with me for real?-- but jammed the side of his fist against it in an attempt to push all those words down.

Movies with Melissa didn't have to be any more than what they were, he decided, carefully slipping the envelope into the pocket of his jacket. All that mattered was they were together, and that he'd end his day with her in the same way he started it.

That would be enough.

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[TXT] You already are, baby.

[TXT] Gotta head to class in a couple minutes. Call me later?

[ But even before receiving a reply, Mark is out of the teacher's lounge and off to the high school snotheads subjected to his whims. At least calling Jimmy later is better than nothing. ]

[TXT] I'm gonna be so well-behaved, you're not gonna know what to do with yourself. [TXT] I'll be the best boy you've ever had.

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ohh i get it.. i'm perverted and unwell and depraved