#mark drable

[gutterfuuck]

Can I request a mark drabble w/ breeding kink 👉👈 I'd love either bff mark or sinister mark but if you go the sinister route can I be a bit of a coward and ask that he be a little. Softer. Maybe specifically for the reader bc I am a little pansy and I get unrealistically offended when I'm condescended or treated like property, and while it would be hot if this man talked down to me I would also be inclined to punch him in the baby maker and then we'd all suffer bc no smut would ensue 😭

Sorry, I just dumped a bit of unwarranted baggage on u there but you come off as really sweet in all your posts so I hope it didn't bother you too much! Thank you for all of your posts btw your writing is delicious! Also your English is very good, you have a great grasp of the language and I respect and appreciate all the effort you must put into making all of your writing so articulate. English especially is said to be very hard to learn so I immensely respect the effort that goes into it, regardless of any/how much help you require/accept to do so. Manifesting a mild inconvenience to that anon a while back who accused you of faking for some reason I hope they step on a wet kitchen tile while wearing socks or something and rethink how they choose to speak to people online. 😊♡

hello anon!! thank you so much for your considerations, maybe it is because i am emotional since i get very choked up when it is birthday season but this had made me cry happy tears 😭😭 also, i agree!! if anyone was to talk to me like i am disposable in real life, i think that i would break down and disintegrate haha!! it is not cowardly to ask for things, do not be swayed!! baggage is never unwanted here, i am the baggage 😂!! i will do the upmost of my best ability, as i have been waiting to write for s!mark again 🤭🤭 also, i do agree people should be more mindful about what they say to others! you never know what anyone is going through, just because you can hide behind a screen mask doesn’t mean you should or can be mean to people!! i do not judge those who do though, they will learn as months and years pass, people do learn and change!!

cw: mdni, smut, breeding kink, just a little drable to warm up my fingers hehe!! minor injury, reader patches him up

you could hear your husband come crashing through the juliet balcony of your bedroom, bumping into the bed and waking you up fully. you bolted up, scanning the darkness of the room and staring at the silhouette of your lover, crouched over in the shadows. “mark?” you peep, eyes still adjusting as you clicked on the bedside lamp, your eyes instantly closing when the brightness took you by surprise.

he looks back at you, pulling his mask with its flimsy broken black goggles off of his face and discarding it to the floor with a heavy sigh. mark always found it so cute how you’d gasp with your hands flying to cover your mouth when he returned with an injury, your worried eyes looking him over as you jump out from under the covers, hands flying up to cover his cheeks and observe his cut nose bridge, one of his eyes squinted due to the budding bruise on his upper cheekbone, “gonna nurse me back to health, baby?” he asks, smiling down at you and placing a kiss to your forehead. he listens to you lecture him about being careful when visiting other planets, rolling his eyes like he’d really just die like that. you knew he was tough, but it didn’t hurt to be concerned.

he sits on the side of the bathtub in the bathroom, tilting his face to the side so you could rub his injuries down with antiseptic solution, mumbling something about how he was still half human so he still had to be a little careful. he didn’t know how many times he’d had to tell you that even though he was still half human everything else was 100% brutal alien. each time he told you, you ignored it. maybe you liked patching him up, placing cute bandages on his face to stop his bleeding. he was hardly injured but he’d be damned if he didn’t let his cute little wife dote on him like this, the sleeves of your fluffy gown he’d bought home for you rolled up your arms as you fiddle with the first aid kit.

“y’know what’d me me feel better?” mark says, taking your hands into his. god, he could just crush you right now, you were so adorable. you hum in response, intertwining your fingers with his as he brings them to his lips, trailing kisses up your arm and pulling you closer, inching towards you slowly. your mouth hangs open with a breathless silent mewl as his lips stop just by your jawline, finding it hard to hold himself back from nipping your skin and marking you up. you nod at his earlier question which draws a chuckle from him, hands moving down to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, “let’s go to bed, then.”

you’ve got your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto his back as he pistoned his hips in and out of your tight heat, never being shameful of your moans. music to his ears, he thought, letting you cry out so desperately into the night. if you had neighbours you’re sure they’d complain. he groaned when he felt you clench around him, muscled thighs stuttering for a moment as you suffocated his cock within your walls. “oh, babygirl-“ he tilts his head back, holding you firmly as your legs wrap around his waist, practically bouncing you up and down on his dick himself, “m-mark..-!” you squeal, voice raspy and throat dry when you feel him buck up into your g-spot, weeping head poking at it repeatedly, trying to pull your orgasm out of you. you whine loudly, holding onto him like you’d fall apart if you let go.

“shhh, s’okay, hold onto me like that, there we go.” mark comforts you, such a strange comparison from when he’s out causing mayhem to now. if those who opposed him were to see him right now, they’d think he’d be a different person. he was so soft with you, treated you like you were made of porcelain and you loved it. you were glad that you’d somehow tamed him in a way, molded him into your perfect husband as he made you into his perfect wife. domestic bliss.

you stifle your noises with his shoulder, softly biting on it as he snapped his hips up into yours vigorously, his own orgasm approaching hard and fast. you could feel the way his cock throbbed inside of you, the way he slowed his hips a little before trying to keep up his pace. “so tight, always so perfect n’ tight f’me, aren’t you?” you nod brainlessly into his shoulder and he coos at you, eyebrows furrowed together as he gasps lightly.

“i’m gonna cum, princess.” he says breathlessly, humping against you for his own orgasm, “inside…” you whisper to him and he almost loses it right there, almost falls over when he thinks about the implications it might have. “inside? yeah-fuck, gonna let me cum inside, just for me?” mark pants, pussydrunk figure caging you in under him as he chases his orgasm, “gimme a kid… f-fuck, gimme a baby, wanna make you a mama… g’na look so perfect— fuh-uck..!” he babbles, vision blanking as he cums inside of you, wave after wave of his warm seed spilling into your cunt, seeping into your womb. he canted his hips a few more times, almost fucking himself into overstimulation as he continued talking, “..gonna give me a mini me, huh? complete our little family?” he asks as you nod in agreement, too fucked out to even process what he’d said to you just now.

[will-o--the-wisp]

smut under the cut // MDNI

alhaitham+kaveh × reader smut drable

cw: dubcon (reader is paying rent), under negotiated everything (so undernegotiated there hasn't even been a negotiation), nipple play, masturbation, marking, biting, anal play, pwp, tba.

I wrote this a 2 am be merciful ty.

Fuck, is this how low he is fallen? Slowly undressing in his bed as his roommates burn holes into his skin with their unblinking stares? Curse Dori and her sweet words. 

She knew (Name) was desperate for an interesting theme that would allow him to get an outstanding grade in his thesis. She knew he was from the amurta darshan, so a promise of a new species of fungi was enough to make him fork out a hefty sum of mora. 

That meant that, when it was time to pay his rent at the beginning of the next month, he had to resort to begging Alhaitham for a little extension on the time. The stoic man surprisingly agreed, but he had one condition. To put on a little show for him. And Kaveh. 

The cold air of the room is making his nipples pebble as it hits them, making a little shiver go down his spine. He unbuttons his pants, wiggling a bit to put his weight in his upper back and lifts his legs to get the clothing off. This allows the men seated at the foot of his bed to appreciate the beautiful curve of his thighs and his cute bulge pressing on the front of his briefs. 

(Name) throws the pants off somewhere in the room and sits up, his back against the header off the bed. He swallows nervously, unsure on what to do, gaze lowering and blush rising to his cheeks as the situation truly sets in. 

“C'mon (Name)” He jumps as a hand settles on his thigh. Kaveh's hand. “Show us how you make yourself feel good” His dick twitches against his will at the smooth words. When did Kaveh turn from a mumbling boyfailure to this? 

He takes a deep breath, his skin feeling on fire where the soft skin of Kaveh’s hand meets his thigh, but it does encourage him to act. He starts to softly palm himself through his boxers, starting with soft touches but growing bolder as his dick hardens. 

He's sweating by the time he is fully hard, the imprint of his cock visible through the thin cloth. Kaveh is kneading on the meat of his thigh which adds to the stimulation and Alhaitham, the ever quiet man, is just observing the scene with his eyes a deep pool of unbridled hunger. 

When he decides he has teased himself enough, (Name) gets one shaky hand in his boxers and gets them low enough so he can stroke his dick comfortably, but he's interrupted before he can get right to it. 

“No” Alhaitham huffs uttering his first words since this whole situation began. Kaveh glares at him for stopping the show, but his enthusiasm comes back at the next words. “I want them off” 

“Do you get off to humiliation?” (Name) quips, his sking getting hotter as he glares at Alhaitham “Is that why you want me nude with you both fully clothed?” 

“Be a good boy and do it” Alhaitham responds, his tone leaving no room for arguments. The stern voice sends another shiver down (Names) spine and makes his dick jump, which mortifies him. 

He gets his boxers off and turns to his night stand. He opens the drawer, rummaging for a quick second before finding a plastic lube container. 

He goes to settle down in bed again, but finds himself being pulled into Kaveh's lap. “You don't mind me looking from this angle right?” Kaveh asks right by his ear, arms encircling his waist. He slowly shakes his head, the heat in the air of the room slowly growing thicker and thicker. 

He pops off the cap of the little container getting a bit of lube into his hand. He goes to put it back down in the nightstand once its job is done, but Alhaitham is quicker and grabs it off his hand. (Name) shoots a questioning job at him, but gets nothing in return. 

He ignores the weirdness as his hand wraps around his dick, the wetness of his precum mixing with the lube in his hand. His head drops back into Kaveh's firm shoulder as his eyes close, a small whimper coming off his lips. 

“You're doing good” Kaveh praises, and one of the arms around his midsection moves, deft architect fingers caressing one of his nipples. (Name) falters in his rhythm, he didn't expect to be touched tonight, just to do his thing for the other two men, but he doesn't want Kaveh to stop. It feels good. 

He strokes a bit faster, testing for the rhythm that feels the best, quick breaths and small moans filling the room. He's so focused on his pleasure that he doesn't hear Alhaitham uncap the bottle again, spreading the thick substance around his fingers. 

(Name) opens his eyes when he feels the scribe's figure move to loom over him. He feels a bit disoriented, his head foggy from the stimulation from both his hand and Kaveh's touch, but stops once fingers circle slowly around his hole.

“Keep at it” Alhaitham orders as he keeps circling, spreading the lube around his entrance. The orders are clear in the haze of his brain, so his hand returns to its work. 

Alhaitham starts with just one finger, it slowly carving up a path inside of him. The sensation of another person's finger inside of him is exquisite when paired up with all the other methods of stimulation he's having the pleasure to endure. 

Kaveh feels bolder with Alhaitham's cooperation, both of his hands moving to pinch and pull on his sensitive nipples until they are cute and rosy. “You're doing so well for us dear.” he says, and (Name) doesn't have to see him for him to know that there's a smile plastered on his face. 

He picks up the pace a bit, the glide of his hand up and down his cock making a slick sound travel around the room. He whimpers and moans, back arching against Kaveh's firm chest as Alhaitham decides to start moving his finger in and out in tandem with his movements. 

“Fuck” He whimpers loudly as Alhaitham finger hits some good spots inside of him. He looks down through bleary eyes and pleads, his hips wriggling to meet Alhaitham’s finger. “One more finger? Please?” His voice is small and pathetic, but far too irresistible. 

“As you wish” Alhaitham says nonchalantly, but by the way his free hand lifts to grip his thigh harshly, he's anything but unnafected. 

He takes the second finger like a champ, his hand jerking himself off quicker. Alhaitham follows suit with amping the intensity, thrusting his fingers rapidly in and out of his hole. Kaveh has moved on to leaving hickies down the column of (Name)'s neck. 

“fuckfuckfuck” It comes to a head in a second, the pleasure feeling all too much when Alhaitham's fingers curl inside him, sending true zaps of gooey heat all throughout his body.  “I’m gonna…”

He doesn't get to finish his thought before he's coming. Kaveh bites down harshly on his neck in the middle of his phrase and that's all it takes for him to finally tumble over the edge. 

It's the best orgasm he's ever had, mind numbing pleasure coursing through his system. He rides the fingers inside him through the peak, moaning loudly as all shame is forgotten. 

Once it's over, his body relaxes suddenly, laying on Kaveh as if he was boneless. He feels dead tired, but his dick still jumps when Alhaitham slowly removes his fingers. 

“You did well” Alhaitham says, tone neutral as ever, but the praise is, by far, the most surprising thing to happen that night. 

Kaveh kisses the crown of his head as he lets out a little laugh, playing with the cum in (Name)’s stomach with a finger. “Can we do this again sometime?” 

(Name) thinks that yes, they will. 

masterlist

want to request something?

[heartfullofleeches]

Hey did you ever end up posting that yandere plants one with the bee reader and I missied it?? Was looking forward to that one

(I have not. A drable for you, chief)

The queen has requested another harvest.

What impeccable timing.

Climbing from rubble and frayed vines, vegetation and ash falls from your hair and shoulders. Extra care is put into your wings as you brush them off for the flight ahead. Held by a loose spine, you blow the decades of dust off your new find - kicking spray particles into the air. Through water eyes you read the books cover - fuzzy tension building at the base of your nose.

It's another picture book.

They're going to love this one-

"Ahh... Achoo!... 'Cuse me."

Apologizing to the thin air around you, you unhook the fine straps of your satchel and toss the book inside. You turn your gaze to the hole in the ceiling as your wings flutter, feet kick-starting your ascent as you rise. The mellowed glow of the fog casted sun greets you first as you exit; a jungle of greenery and constructs waiting the earth below and as far as the eye could see. You climb up onto the ledge of the building and leap off into a nose dive for the ground - wings swooping into mobility before your body hits the trees. Flying lose did have its risks, but nothing beats the floral air in your hair when heading home - reminding you of those counting on your return.

Scouting the known galaxy for resources, your crew landed on this planet in a time you no longer recall accurately. Overtaken by plants of all variety, it seemed like the perfect harvest - until it wasn't. As unaccounted cargo, you were sparred the horrors they faced at the hands of the planet's few remaining natives. Asleep during the bloodbath you woke crowd by the new inhabitants of this land - sentient creatures grown from rich soil and crimes against anatomy.

Their creators feared what they had created and went to war destroying what they had birthed with their own hands - wiped out in the end by their superior strengths and numbers. Despite this carnage, they were a peaceful race and tried to rescue your crew, but failed. Finding your journals tucked into your sleeping arms they enlisted your aid as a florist in the upkeep of what remains of their home in exchange for their pollen and a roof over your head.

Base in sight, you speed through the thick fog in your descent to its open doors. A planetarium with an open ceiling has come your home in this time. You missed your comfy bed, but a hammock under the stars surrounded by those you now held dear was just as nice. You enter the building, breath fleeing as your snatched from behind. Not a step through the door and you're suspended in the air at the waist by hanging vines.

"And just where have you been, my sneaky little pest?"

Thorn-like claws grace your cheek, curving up to the crown of your head where they cautiously prod at your sensitive antennae. Amused, they chitter in delight as you struggle in your blinds - most likely held by another member of the collective. Beyond the palms of their woven hands, this one was covered near entirely in stained prickles. Violet petals spiked from the upper half of their hair and draped over their mocking grin

"You know you aren't allowed to leave without a guide. What ever would we do if our heart was taken by those savages, hm? I think a punishment is in order, don't you?"

"Seems so if they can't obey simple rules. With that lovely picture on knot tying they brought us the other day, I'm sure we can get up to lots of fun before the others figure out where we are."

Lowered closer to the floor, strong arms embrace you from behind and lead your head against their chest. Small, hanging buds sprouted up the lengths of their arms mark their class - their reddish yellow hue staking their typing. Cooing ever so cloyingly sweet in your ear, it rubs the humanoid half of its face against your cheek.

"You were scheduled to start the day with us. Don't you love us anymore? We may not be as approachable at the others, but we adore you all the same."

You swallow hard, trapped between a wall and thorns. "Thistle.... Honeysuckle.. but I can never find you two."

"But we're always watching. Can't let you get into trouble. Or pick a favorite. If you accept us as your guards for the rest of the week maybe we'll let you go. If not...."

The vines tighten around your hips - released almost instantly as they're snipped by an unseen party. You stumble forward, caught and picked up by another pair of arms.

"What have I told you two about picking on them? One more time and I'm sending you both to the greenhouse.... Are you alright, darling?"

Bright as the golden sun, their petals almost blind you as you look up. The leader, and the first floral creature you met - Marigold was your sworn protector even from those with you in their care. A strict, yet understanding calm to the storm life in the compound was. As they set you down, Thistle scoffs.

"Always the spotlight stealer. Would you keep it down before the others realized they've returned?"

It's a bit too late for that.

"Y/n? Y/n back?!"

"Oh, I was so worried I fear I may start wilting!"

"Y/n, Y/n! We have a ripe patch of peaches for you!"

From the shadows of the trees and handmade structures comes the entire horde. They push through each other getting to you and overwork your brain with their chatter. Over a dozen bodies crowded around your lone figure. Through the sea, the shortest of them swims through the crowd and manages their way up to you - head centered at your navel. Head cocked, they seem to be staring to your lips.

"Cuckoo? Is everything alright?"

They smile. Grabbing your shirt, you're bent forward into an open mouth kiss. All the commotion ceases immediately as a wave of surprises washes over them all. Patting the walls of your cheeks their segmented tongue, Cuckoo only pulls away when they're torn from you. Lifting the smaller flower by its shoulders, Thistle clenches their teeth tight.

"What on earth was that?"

The question was genuine. None of them were fully traversed in the act of kissing beyond brief tellings in the books you brought to learn more about the planet left behind for them. Agriculture and construction were common reads, but if they got lucky you'd find old story books, comics and novels. Cuckoo holds up a page from one of those very stories - the couple displayed entangled in a heat of passion with lips locked. Heads staring over their shoulder snap in your direction. You'd used the direction to scramble away and travel further into their lair.

"I wanna try..."

Even Marigold couldn't save you now. Taking advantage of your gift of flight, you dart into the air aiming for the second floor where your bedroom stood.

"I would love to help you all, but I need to get started on my letter for my queen. She has requested more pollen, and I wasn't able to get one out in the last run. As soon as it's out of the way, I can come back and we can - Ah!"

Fashioning a lasso from their vines, you're dragged down into the frenzy with no escape in the near future. As is your life with the horde.

-

A queen sits alone on her throne. Letter opener gripped in her palm, she stabs it though her throne as the words describing your escapade slash through her heart. Stomping the battered floor, her veil of submission cracks.

"This has gone on for too long. My garden is in shambles and so will this kingdom until their return."

The servant at her feet keeps their voice low. "My queen... Their service there is doing quite the opposite. Our reserves are at maximum capacity and with the treaty there's no need for war and needless casualties. I know of your bond and I am sorry for your lost."

Like an arrow, the queen's dagger rips through the air and anchors in the wall behind the servant. Golden blood beads in a line across their cheek. Unbridled rage and disgust seeps from her icy glare like poison. She refuses to look directly in their eye, staring off at the shoulders behind them.

"Get. This. Traitor- OUT. RIP THEIR WINGS AND LEAVE THEM FOR DEAD. if they aren't on my wall by dawn, I will take yours as payment."

Eyes wide, the servant lunges for her robes as the guards take their arms. "My lady, please! You cannot do this! I was trying to make things better! Y/n will never forgive you!"

She spits.

"And cut out their tongue."

Screams echoing down the halls, the queen curls up in her throne - clutching the pillow you kept every night and the flower you sent in your distress. Her sweet idiot of a bumblebee. Why did you have to run off? Sure she was stressed, but with her prized florist and sweet little bumblebee she could've conquered the universe. Someday you'll be in her arms and garden again - laughing the night and dawn away.

Someday

[lucuslavigne]

VOCÊ ESCOLHEU: ▸ masterlist.

Verde = SFW | Vermelho = NSFW | organizado de A-Z.

ONE SHOTS.

[Admit it. You wanted to let me in] Kazuha.

[Angels like you] Jason Todd.

[Bang] Jaemin.

[Be a fiancé] Seungkwan.

[Boy in luv] Renjun.

[Cantigas] V.

[Cheating on you] Gyuvin.

[Deixa Rolar] Vini Jr.

[Eternity] Yuta.

[Fall in love alone] Jo.

[I am YOU] Felix.

[I hate to admit] Bang Chan.

[I love everything you do] Jaemin.

[Just one day] Renjun.

[Kiss me hard before you go] I.M.

[Linda] Jake.

[Me deixa cuidar de você] Hyunjae.

[Miniskirt] Karina.

[Nerves] Changbin.

[Nigrum pegasus] Ten.

[Only you] Giselle.

[She just told me] D.O.

[Silent scream] Johnny & Mark.

[Slow down] Yuta.

[Sou problemático, um pouco ciumento] Sungchan.

[Supra] Bang Chan.

[Thank you] Jeonghan.

[Um fofo, não é?] Shinichiro.

TIME STAMPS.

[00:00am] Richard Ríos.

[01:20am] Richard Ríos.

[03:33am] Vernon.

[19:38pm] Auggie.

[20:00pm] Heeseung.

[21:30pm] Heeseung.

[22:15pm] Eunseok.

DRABLES.

[Dia dos namorados] TXT.

[Carência] Jungkook.

[Sem título] Anton.

[Sem título] Jake.

[Sem título] Kun.

[Sem título] Taeyong.

[Mommy kink] Sunmi.

[Odaxelagnia/marking] Sunghoon.

[Overstimulation] Heeseung.

[Pet play] Yuta.

[Você é tão, tão fofo] Anton.

REACTIONS & HEADCANONS.

[Crise] WayV.

[Deficiência visual] ZB1 hyung line.

[Filhas do KISS] Æspa.

[Fuckbuddy] Shotaro.

[Grande para você] TBZ '98 line.

[Jogadores de futebol] NCT Dream.

[Sendo mandados] &Team hyung line.

[Some things] Vernon.

[Teacher's pet] Minho.

[Vampiros] Enhypen hyung line.

[Vendo você se masturbar] SKZ '00 line.

SMAU.

[Chenle]

[Jungkook]

[Ten]

[Hendery]

[WayV] leitora atacante.

[Kpop] possessivas.

THOUGHTS.

[Jungkook]

[Richard Ríos]

SÉRIES E SEM CLASSIFICAÇÃO.

['97 liners papais]

[Pensamentos da madrugada]

[Seasons]

[Um neo + uma música br]

[Stuck in the middle] François Civil.

[jaemlonfz]

mark + first kiss = my mind

ps: the 7th sense was just relased so mark still kinda a rookie ig? wc: 0,2k tw: none i made it a simple drable, i hope y'all like it, sorry if theres any mistakes english isnt my first language :D

your first kiss with mark was an accident. mark was your best friend, and seeing him debut at the company of his dreams made you very happy, so why not have a mini party with just the two of you to celebrate.

with several balloons in the house, cake, sweets and lots of snacks you put on some music and started singing while mark was on the couch laughing when your voice hit the high note totally off key.

until when the song ended and you went to confront the boy because you could hear him laughting at your singing voice, but he was already completely glued to your body. and you surprised by the sudden occurrence on your side you jumped and almost fell making mark's arms hold you.

now you were wrapped in his arm like a gift, and before you knew it, like a scene from a princess movie, mark had tilted and kissed you.

it was just a peck from the beginning, and the poor boy was so happy that he didn't even noticed what he had done.

but when you stabilized on the ground and cupped your best friend's face, pulling him in for a deep kiss, he couldn't deny anymore, he was the happiest person in the world.

[tealmisthams]

Hello there I try not to make my ask sound rude. But I'm dyslexic and maybe autistic so sorry if it's does.

But for your Merry mistletoe drables can it be Rex/Ahsoka 5 or 10 your pick.

Thanks for the ask! I really enjoyed writing this drabble, so I hope you like it! 💙

It's also here on AO3.

--

The sudden tempo change of the music drew Ahsoka’s attention towards the dance floor of the ballroom. So far, the gala had been filled with bright, vibrant melodies that sent the dance floor into a flurry of colors as the guests did their best to keep up in their formal outfits. Now though, the notes of this new song were long and unhurried, and within a few seconds, the movement of the dance floor had decelerated to match the new pace.

Ahsoka stifled a small sigh as she watched the other guests begin their slow dance. She couldn’t help but cast a glance at the man beside her. Rex stood at her shoulder, currently invested in an exchange with Cody, who flanked his other side.

She’d known for a long time that her partner wasn’t a dancer and, for the most part, she didn’t really mind. Dancing wasn’t exactly part of her daily life nor was it something she felt compelled to do often, if at all. Today, though, something about the legato notes and the idyllic atmosphere felt so romantic, and Ahsoka silently wished that she and Rex were amongst the couples twirling across the dance floor. She wouldn’t bother him about it, of course. She never wanted to ask him to do something he was uncomfortable with.

“Ahsoka.”

Her partner’s voice snapped her out of her daydream and it was then that she noticed his hand extended in front of her. She looked up to meet his gentle, amber eyes.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked and she had to stop herself from gaping in astonishment.

“Rex, you don’t like dancing,” she pointed out, furrowing her eyebrow markings.

“But you do and I love being with you, no matter what we’re doing.”

They’d been partners for a long time now, but his words still sent heat to her lekku and caused her heart to flutter. Not for the first time, she wondered how she had gotten so lucky.

Unable to find the words to respond, she placed her hand in Rex’s and he led her out onto the dance floor. Ahsoka barely contained a smirk when he quickly glanced at the other couples around them, and mimicked their positions by keeping hold of her hand, placing his free palm on her waist, and pulling her close. Then he began to guide them a bit awkwardly across the dance floor.

“Sorry, I don’t really know how to do this,” he mumbled against her montral.

“I don’t care.” They stopped moving for a moment and she reached up to trail her fingers along his jaw. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

As she tilted her head upwards, a bundle of green hanging above them caught her attention. Noticing her distraction, Rex followed her gaze towards the clump of leaves and the white berries that were sprinkled amongst them.

“It’s mistletoe,” Ahsoka said, when he glanced at her questioningly. “When we stand under it, we’re supposed to kiss.”

Suddenly she had all of Rex’s attention again. His amber eyes were warm as they met her blue ones and she felt her lekku heat again as her partner’s lips pulled up into a half-grin.

“I suppose I can’t say ‘no’ to that.” He was already leaning in and she felt the rumble of his voice vibrate in her montrals, even before he made contact.

Rex had never been one to openly display his affection for her in public; not physically, at least. But something about this gala and its blissful atmosphere must have inspired him to make some exceptions. 

First the dancing, and now he was cupping her chin and kissing her tenderly. His other arm encircled her hips to pull her closer and her hands found their way up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to her, so she could deepen the kiss further.

Ahsoka had to stifle a whimper of regret when they finally broke apart. She already knew she couldn’t get enough of this man and that knowledge was only further reinforced when he shifted to resume their dancing position.

--

The Mistletoe Drabble requests are still open! Review the pairing and prompt options here, and send in an ask!

[ieatkeyboard]

WOOOOOOO HALLOWEEEEN

Happy halloween, Samhain, day of the dead or just Tuesday if you don't celebrate anything!! I've been going through some rough health stuff as of late plus writers block so I unfortunately never got to finish kinktober :,) But I can give you a little drable (Big fat question) of Vox

Warnings: Smut, reader is afab, biting, marking, degradation, reader wears makeup and a dress.

His fangs scrapped against your bruised skin as he growled, deep red claws grabbing onto your naked body. What started as a Halloween prank on your boyfriend turned into something much more, which was proved by the torn red cocktail dress lazily thrown on the floor and your cheap fishnets now ripped at the crotch for easy access. "You nasty slut, you knew I'd do this to you, didn't you. You wanted me to take you like this." The deep voice spoke into your ear, raising goosebumps across your body. The fake rose sleeve you drew on your arm was smudged at the wrist from his rough grip on you only a few moments ago, who knew dressing as Voxanne would get him going this much? "Yes I, I did- Oh fuck!" You moaned, mascara running down your rosy cheeks. The man grabbed your chin and pressed an open mouthed kiss to your stained lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you whimpered into his mouth. Your thighs began to shake around his waist and you moaned. "Fuck - come on. Cum with me, Slut." He whispered, followed by a groan. You felt a heavy wave of pleasure, so heavy you could only manage a small whimper. Vox's shoulder hunched as he came, moaning into your flushed chest. "Holy shit.. " He sighed, catching his breath. He kissed your forehead and embraced the sight of you. Your red lipstick was long gone, your hair was a mess, flushed cheeks stained with your tears and your necklace was now accompanied by a plethora of deep purple hickeys. "You look good as a mess." he smirked, pressing a deep, long kiss to your lips. Shaky hands immediately went to the sides of his neck and he pressed his forehead to yours. "Just breathe, Darling. I'm not going anywhere."

[hansolsticio]

OI SOLIEEE!!!!! vc tinha perguntado sobre as nossas histórias favoritas e eu tenho umas varias 😝

as do jeonghan, im alguma coisa (nao lembro o nome delas) são tipo minha paixão INTEIRA

obviamente boladinha do mark é o meu império romano tudo que eu mais amo E PUTA QUE PARIU SPELL DO CHAN MUDOU MINHA VIDA INTEIRA

SPELL É TUDO QUE EU AMO SONHO E JMAGINEI É MAGNIFICO GENIAL

praticamente amo todos seus drables tb mds esse último da pfu q vc fez aimds 😍😍 sou viciada em tudo q vc posta to precisando deixar de ser desocupada

OI LUNNINHA!!!! omg são tantas, fico super feliz em saber e, coincidentemente, são as que eu mais me diverti escrevendo também!!!!! passei horas e horas no lado carioca do tiktok pra escrever boladona [😃]

[thesmuttyarchives]

Hello and welcome to my archive! This will be a collection of my own writings, possibly some smutty art, and reblogs of other peoples posts that I enjoy, please be aware that this is a nsft blog so this is not an appropriate space for minors, there will be smut.

Little bit about me, I’m 21 years old and an 18+ artist trying my hand at some smutty writing and figured this would be a good place to organize everything. Writings will include personal fantasies as well as writing drables I’ll make for friends and mutuals.

I’m an afab non-binary person (I also refer to myself as trans-masc) and I’m omnisexual, I use they/them pronouns exclusively

I’m a dom leaning switch and almost exclusively a top

I’m not interested in starting a relationship with a stranger, just because I allow anons to send smutty asks doesn’t mean I’m going to start dating you irl, so don’t ask please.

Don’t send me nsft pictures through anon, it’s rude to randomly send those to people unless they consent, which I do not.

Dni if you are:

A MINOR. This is not the space for you, and just having +18 in your bio doesn’t tell me your age. I need an actual number

A TRANSPHOBE/HOMOPHOBE seriously I’m trans and Omni why are you here?

RACIST/XENOPHOBIC I will not tolerate that shit

————————————————————————

Kink list- (I tend to be on the softer side of kink)

Soft sex/soft Aftercare, Light Pet play, light overstim, Breeding (no preg), Monster fucking, Size difference, Mommy kink (as in I like to be called mommy… yeah I don’t get how that works as I tend to lean towards the more masc side with pet names lol), LIGHT cnc (consensual somno and some free use), wax play, exhibitionism/voyeurism (only involving a partner), edging, vampire kink, royalty kink, body worship, markings (hickeys, bite marks, scratches), mutual masturbation, public sex (only in a fantasy setting)

Hard No list-

Violence/impact play, Scat, water sports, detrans, ageplay, hard cnc, stalking/obsessive fantasies

Names I like to be called: pup, puppy, good boy, good enby, sir, mommy (only if I know you well)

(All of this will likely be updated as I go)

[luckiestarrr]

directory

✩ ◛ mail time — asks

⋆.*ೃ✧ luckie rambles

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ drables

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. recs — fic recs + reblogs

* ✮･ﾟ* : rdr2

ೃ⁀➷ : genshin

·.༄࿔ : jujutsu kaisen

posts with triggers will be tagged with “tw” posts marked "nsfw" are 18+

[gutterfuuck]

thank you for writing sinister mark x reader omg it's so good 🤭 if you're taking reqs, the pic you posted of the alternate mark got me thinking about some throne smut with him or even sinister mark 😩

YES YES YES YES!!! i am actually reading on invincible now, the comic so i will be flooding my blog soon enough

sinister!mark x reader

cw: no plot just smut really, facefucking, threats, face slapping, slight breathplay, dirty talk, short drable, i might extend on this!!!

you couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t breathe around his thick cock. especially not with how he held your head down, trapping you there, forcing you swallow around his dick. he sat with his legs wide, your upper arms trapped between the backs of his calves and the wooden base of his large chair, your bare chest pressed right against it. “hey- you’re not doing it properly.” he tutted, shaking his head when he noticed that you had started choking around him, trying to pull your head back to get some air.

mark pulled your hair all the way back, yanking your head off of his length, watching with enjoyment when you gasped and spluttered, chasing air so you could breathe again. “put your mouth back on it. you’re lucky i even let you breathe, be grateful.” he said darkly, tapping his tip against your spit-slicked lips, groaning when he slid past them and settled back into your warm mouth. he was a little gentler this time, heavy hand pushing your head back down just a little lighter. you hummed around him, blinking tears out of your eyes and before you could fully relax your throat, he lifted his leg up and rested it on the back of your neck, trapping your head in between his legs, thrusting his hips forwards, carelessly fucking gags out of your throat. “that’s right… stop being so dumb and breathe out your nose, before i break it for you.” you whimpered at his words, tears staining your face.

you couldn’t think, your fingernails digging into the seat of mark’s chair - no, makeshift throne of some kind - eyes wide as you failed to catch your breath. mark let go again, “i said stop being so fucking dumb, did you even hear me?” you slid your mouth off of his dick again, webs of spit keeping you attached to his cock, he licked his lips at the sight of you. tear stained face, chest heaving up and down, nostrils flaring. mark spat at you, thick glob of his saliva landing right under your eye, getting up out of his chair and pulling you up by your hair so that you were both standing. slap, slap, slap. light slaps against your cheek, mark’s face dark in disappointment. “still with me? did that scare you?” he whispered, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. you nodded, sobbing out lightly, leaning into his touch. “oh, my sweet baby…” he cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead-

SLAP!

you were backhanded, right in your face. you could only stare in shock for a second before you let out a quiet pained “ah-“, your eyes watering up in shock. you hardly had enough time to recover before he slapped you again, this time with his palm and on your other cheek. “now you really have a reason to be scared.” he leaned in, licking the tears from your face, humming as if he had just tasted something sweet.

“now stop crying before i give you something to cry for- i said stop it. that’s it, calm down. breathe, princess. that’s a good wife, i know you aren’t ready for me to use your ass yet so calm down. you and i both know that you don’t want to cry for real, right? good girl.”

[soybeantree]

blossom 

pairing: mark x reader  genre/warning: singleparent!reader, teacher!mark; some soft shit word count: 7k description: soft mark as your son’s teacher. a/n:  buckle in buttercups

“Do you ever feel like your life is spiraling down a black hole headed nowhere?” “No. Is that an adult thing?”

 The young boy sitting across the table from you asks, pausing in his breakfast consumption. Sighing, you put down your spoon and shake your head. “No, I think it’s a me thing. Your mom is a mess. Have I apologized to you lately that you ended up with me as a mom?” The young boy chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re a great mom and a beautiful mess.” He says as he stands up and clears his dishes, heading for the sink. “I’m a blessed mess.” You call over your shoulder as you stand up. “It’s the only way I could end up with a kid like you.” You add as you follow your son’s example and place your dishes in the sink. As you start to rinse them off, you catch sight of the clock. “Oh, shhh-It’s time to go!” You save yourself, shooting your son a smile. The kid shakes his head. “Swear jar.” “I didn’t say it.” “Swear jar.” His arms cross his chest, and his feet stand firm. Your cause is lost. “Fine. Go grab your jacket and backpack. And hurry about it!” You call as he disappears into his room. Heading towards the annoyingly large glass jar which sits in the far corner of your living, you dump all of your change into it. The jar is nearly full, and the sight makes you cringe. The past few weeks at work have been stressful, leading to your statement at breakfast and the full jar. While you hope the trend won’t continue, reality leads you to believe otherwise. You do need to find a better outlet for your stress though, or you’re going to end up broke. “Mom!” “Coming.” You rush to the entryway, slipping on shoes before dashing out the door your son is so kindly holding open. His school is close by, the reason you chose the apartment. He insists that being ten he is old enough to walk to school by himself. You insist that being twenty-eight you are not old enough for him to walk to school on his own. You plan on living a long and healthy life, and if something happens to him, you’ll either end up dead from grief or in jail for vengeance. So the two of you walk to school together. These couple minutes are sacred to you. With all the stress and demands of work, time with your son is scarce, so you take advantage of every minute you have. “Alright, what do I need to know about this coming week?” You ask as you head down the street. Your son walks silently beside you, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. “What is it?” You ask at his hesitation. “We are currently in a full honesty, no judgment zone. Didn’t you see the sign we just passed?” You gesture over your shoulder to the non-existent sign behind you. He cracks a smile and shakes his head. “There was no sign mom.” “Okay, but my point still stands.” Taking a deep breath, he starts. “I want to make a deal with you.” His eyes dart to yours, and you nod urging him to continue. “If you say yes, you can take back all the money in the swear jar.” The money in the swear jar is designated for charity. You two had come up with this deal when he was in first grade and was sent to the principle’s office for swearing in class. You had been mortified but were even more mortified when you realized it was your fault. That day you had told him that swearing in school was not okay and promised that you would stop swearing, and that ff he caught you swearing, then you would put all the change in your wallet into the swear jar. Once it was full, you would take all the money and donate it to the charity of his choice. While you hadn’t been able to keep your promise as diligently as you would have liked, you two had donated quite a bit to charities. “Kid, that money-” He holds up his hand though, and you zip your lips. It’s his time to talk. “At the end of the month, we’re going to have a choir concert.” Everything within you plummets as your mind follows the path he’s laying out. “Minnie’s mom was supposed to help with the costumes and the set, but she broke her arm and can’t. Mr. Mark can’t do it all by himself, and he asked if any other parent’s might be able to help. I know you’re busy with work, but no other parent’s can help and if Mr. Mark doesn’t get any help then we can’t do the concert and-and…” His shoulders heave, and his eyes start to glisten, and you stare back at him helpless. Ever since that first day when the doctor placed this tiny bundle in your arms, you’ve been helpless whenever you look in those eyes. “Okay.” “Okay? You’ll do it!” He bounces on his feet, smiling up at you so brightly, and you know if you could you would give this kid the world. “Yes, yes, I’ll do it.” “Mr. Mark will be so happy.” He beams as he starts to skip down the street. “Mhm.” You nod as you follow him at a more moderate pace. Mr. Mark. Mark Tuan was your son’s first grade teacher, the one who had sent him to the office for swearing. He was there when you came to pick him up. Your son had been in tears. He hadn’t realized what he said was a bad word. Mommy said it all the time. He didn’t want to be a bad kid. Mark had sat beside him, telling him that just because he said a bad word didn’t mean that he was a bad kid. People made mistakes. He just needed to learn from his mistake, so that way he didn’t make them again. Standing down the hall watching the interaction, your mind was a war of emotions, the chief being mortification. You were mortified that you were teaching your son to cuss; that because of you, he felt this way about himself; and that Mark witnessed it all. The second emotion was gratitude. You were grateful that Mark was the one who witnessed it, that he would sit with your son and comfort him, and that he had somehow found a way back into your life. Fate is funny, you think as you give your son a kiss and send him off to school. While the goodbye embarrasses him as it would any ten year old boy, he lets you do it every morning. Because, as he has told you so many times, his love for you is greater than any embarrassment. You hope it’s something he learned from you. That cussing isn’t the only thing you’ve taught him.  Your love for him is greater than any embarrassment. You wish it was the same for your family. Heading towards the nearby bus stop, your mind wanders through old memories. You were young when you had your son. Fresh out of high school, you found out you were pregnant. You were unwed and unemployed with only your family to lean on, except you couldn’t. They wouldn’t let you. Coming back from another unsuccessful job hunt, you had found a suitcase on your parent’s doorstep with all your clothes in it. Your father wasn’t pleased with what had happened you could tell that by his stony silence and your mother was always looking away when you entered a room, but they were your parents. They should love you more than any embarrassment. You had stood on their doorstep, pounding on the door and screeching until night fell. But the door never opened. They probably weren’t even home. They had kicked you out and fled. You collapsed against the door, staring at the sliver of moon which hung in the sky. That’s when Mark came. You had known Mark your whole life. He lived down the street from you and was by far the coolest kid on the street. All the boys wanted to be his friend and all the girls wanted to be his girl-friend. He was your first crush and your first love. Being two years older than you, he had already gone off to college. So when he came and crouched down in front of you, you were shocked to see him. He had undoubtedly heard you screaming, the whole neighborhood had, but he didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t ask about it or offer any false words of hope. Instead, he held out a hand and asked if you wanted to grab something to eat. As you board the bus, you smile at the memory. His face had shone with kindness, but all you wanted was to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone and stop trying to be nice. With him there, you couldn’t curl up in a little ball and cease existing. But you said none of that. You couldn’t. While the thing inside you was probably no bigger than a grain of rice, it needed you. Without you, it couldn’t survive, and you refused to abandon it. Your love for it would be greater than any embarrassment. So you took Mark’s hand and let him pull you up. He grabbed your suitcase and, with his hand still wrapped around yours, started walking down the street. He did all the talking which was shocking because he never talked. Mark was always the quiet, mysterious type, but tonight he was a fountain of words. He told you about how he was studying to be a teacher and about his roommate Jinyoung who was also pursuing education. The two of you headed to a local restaurant, and over a steaming bowl of soup, he continued to speak. Eventually, you started talking too and joking. He never asked about the pregnancy or made any comments about it. For one night, you were able to just be you. After dinner, he offered you his sister’s room for the night. Being older than him, she had already moved out. Hesitant, you declined, but he assured you his parents wouldn’t mind. Having no other options, you relented and agreed. His parents didn’t mind. They welcomed you in with open arms, showing you the spare room. A towel lay folded neatly on the bed with little bottles of shampoo and soap. After a warm shower, you laid down and fell asleep instantly. The next morning, you woke before any of them. During your shower the night before, you had accepted the truth. The life you had lived before came to an end when the second pink line appeared. Your parents made it very clear you no longer had a place here, and you couldn’t live of the Tuan’s kindness forever. Before they could wake and talk you out of your decision, you left with only a note to thank them for their kindness. Life was hell after that. Working, raising a kid, and putting yourself through college, you wonder how you did it. There were lots of tears and sleepless nights, but you survived. After all your hard work, you were able to land a good job and send your son to a good school. He loved his school, especially his teacher Mr. Mark. It wasn’t until that first parent-teacher conference that you realized Mr. Mark was your Mark. That had been a fun night, followed by more fun nights. Over the school year at different functions, you and Mark had filled each other in on those years since you left. He regaled you with the tales of him and his friends, and you allowed him a glimpse of your hell. Feelings you had thought long dead floated to the surface. They weren’t the same though. The infatuation of a young girl had matured into respect and appreciation and desire. For a time, you entertained your childhood fantasies. Then your son swore. Standing there watching Mark comfort him, you were thrown back to that day on your parents doorstep. After all those years and all that hell, you were still the same girl who needed Mark to step in and help her up. You couldn’t face him after that. The feelings which had surfaced, you forced back down. Your son graduated to second grade and your interactions with Mark dwindled until your son decided to join the school choir. For years, the school choir had been run by a kind old man who had lost his hearing at some point during his tenure. No one had the heart to tell him though. But, before your son’s third grade, the old man announced that that year would be his last. Mark, a music minor, was unanimously elected as his successor, and your son was one of the first kids to sign up the next year. Now, you see Mark on a weekly basis. Thus far you have successfully limited your interactions to polite greetings and small talk. Stepping off the bus, you acknowledge that moving forward this will no longer be the case. The two of you will be working closely until the concert. The feelings you sunk, stir at the prospect, but you force them to still. Mark has always been a pleasant fantasy, but you live in the real world and have dealt with too much shit to indulge in fantasies.

Later that week, you sit hunched over a sewing machine as you curse under your breath. The damn bobbin keeps messing up, and if you have to re-thread the needle one more time, you’re likely to shove the whole thing off the table. Believing the school would have adequate equipment for the task at hand, you left your beautifully functioning sewing machine at home. The mistake would not be repeated again. Next time, you would bring it. 

Needle re-threaded, you run the cloth through the machine, only to hear the whir and feel the tell-tale tug. Before the machine can meet the floor, long hands pull it out of your reach. Glancing up, you find Mark standing above you. A smile tugs at his lips, but he forces them to still. He wants to appear serious. “Would you be able to help me with the set pieces? I’ve finished cutting them out. I just need someone a little more artistic to paint them.” Sewing had offered you the opportunity to distance yourself from Mark, but if you spend any more time with that machine, you’ll end up owing the school a new machine. Maybe that’s what you should do with the swear jar money this time around. You muse, chuckling to yourself. “What?” Mark’s eyes catch yours. “Nothing, I was just- it’s nothing. I’ll just get started on those set pieces.” You stand heading over to the cut-outs. The less talking you do the easier all of this will be. You grab a nearby paint brush and bucket and begin outlining the branches. Mark settles next to a fence as an uncomfortable silence falls. “Do you mind if I put on some music?” Mark’s voice breaks the silence. Your brush streaks across the tree leaving an ugly stain. You hadn’t expected him to speak. Determined to escape the awkwardness, you had filled your mind with everything you had to do for work. “No, I don’t mind.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine.” Music starts as you try to fix your mistake. The two of you continue to work, as the music pushes the silence back. However, the awkwardness remains and grows worse as the night drags on. You continually check your phone, hoping hours have ticked by. But only minutes have passed. “Mom!” Your sons voice enters the room, and you glance up from the bush you’re working on. A relieved smiled slips on your face. Today’s torture is coming to an end. “Hey, sweetie. How was studying at Minnie’s?” You ask as you start to gather up the brushes and paint. Not able to physically help with the concert, Minnie’s mom had offered to watch your son while you worked. “I finished all my homework.” He beams. “You did? Good job, kiddo.” “Yes…” A glint appears in his eyes. Pushing off the floor, you cross your arms and nod for him to continue. “Since I finished all my homework, I was wondering if we could go and get some ice cream.” He fixes you with those eyes, and you tell yourself that he earned a treat. You’re not being a pushover. “Okay,” He fist bumps the air before you can finish, “We can get ice cream.” You chuckle as he proceeds to do the dorky victory dance he learned from you. “But first, help me clean up. We don’t want to leave this mess for Mr. Mark.” “Oh, Mr. Mark,” he turns to his teacher, “do you want to get ice cream with us?” The invitation should have been obvious. You should have waited to agree until after you left. Now the invitation hangs in the air, and you can’t face Mark. You can barely face your son for fear he will read too much in your expression. Smoothing your face, you turn to Mark with a simple smile. “You’re more than welcome to come with us.” “Sure, I can always eat ice cream.” He returns the smile. Drawing on a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, you manage to keep the smile on your face and nod. With the three of you working together, you finish the clean up in minutes. Down the street from the school is a local ice cream shop which has been run by the same family for generations. Here you three head for the promised treat. Your son is quick to order chocolate fudge, requesting a second scoop when he thinks you’re not paying attention. He receives one scoop with sprinkles. You request the more moderate vanilla. Mark completes the trio with cookies ‘n cream. Outside the shop, benches and tables sit clustered around a little wishing well. Your son plops onto a chair, and you settle on the bench across from him, failing to realize your mistake until Mark exits the shop with his cone in hand. The cluster your son has chosen only has the chair he occupies and the bench under you, leaving the only available seat beside you. Glancing at your son, you find that glint in his eye as he slowly licks away at his ice cream. “Do you mind?” Mark asks gesturing to the accursed spot. You shake your head scooting over until the arm rest bites into your side. Mark lowers himself, careful to keep an arms width of distance between you two. “Mr. Mark?” Your son asks. Mark motions for him to continue. “Did you really know my mom when she was little?” Sputtering turns to coughing as you choke on your ice cream. Mark pats you gently on the back, but you wave him off. “Sorry.” You cough. “Wrong pipe.” “Ummm…” Mark glances at you, but you wave him off again as you regain your breath. “Uh, yes. We grew up in the same neighborhood.” He turns his attention to your son. “What was mom like when she was little?” “We didn’t know-” “She was very independent,” He cuts you off, “like she is now.” “Really? How so?” “There’s one thing I remember from when we were really young. She would wander away from her house all the time, and the whole neighborhood would know when it happened because her mom would rush out of the house screaming. Everyone would start looking for her, and she would be somewhere different every time. When she finally returned home, her mom would rage at her.” “Mom!” Your son accuses. “And you won’t even let me walk to school by myself.” “Do as I say not as I do. Have you ever heard that expression?” You defend your protectiveness. “I was lucky that nothing happened to me.” Mark clears his throat before taking another bite of ice cream. You eye him. “What?” “You weren’t always lucky.” He mumbles, but you still hear him. At your bewildered expression, Mark continues more clearly. “There was one time I saw you wandering, and there was this guy. He made me feel uneasy, so I went and got my dad. And he reported the man to the police.” The knowledge sends a chill racing down your spine, and you stare at him horrified. “After that, I would always keep an eye on your door, and if you ever went wandering I would follow behind.” “You did?” Clearing his throat, he nods, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. “So you were my mom’s guardian angel?” Mark chuckles. “I wouldn’t say that. I was just worried something might happen.” His focus goes to his ice cream as he continues to chip away at it. You stare at him and then a crack in the sidewalk until your ice cream drips onto your hand. Cursing in your head, you lick up the mess and make quick work of the frozen treat and cone. Your son works more slowly, that glint in his eye ever present, so you hurry him along and excuse yourself from the situation. You need to get home before any other secrets come to light.

At work the next week, you sit through yet another meeting. This one thankfully marks the end of the project you’ve been slaving over for the past month. You wish your boss would show his gratitude for your teams hard work, by not having a meeting. Glancing at your co-workers, you can tell they are of the same mind set. Your boss does end the meeting earlier than usual though which everyone applauds. 

As you gather your things and prepare to return to your desk, you hear your name called. Your boss stands on the other side of the room a smile on his face. That smile sends your stomach plummeting. It means more work for you. With this project completed, you had hoped you would receive a reprieve from your overloaded schedule, but you seem to be luckless.

“I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that?” He chuckles at your bewilderment. “I want you to head our new office.” “If I’m not mistaken, that office is in a different country.” He nods. “Of course the promotion comes with a move, but the company would assist with your relocation, and you would be allotted a housing stipend.” The offer is an honor, recognition for all the work you’ve put in. Everyone knew about the new office opening, and the office gossip had all been supposition about who would helm it. You had never given consideration to the idea that it would be you. While work can be exhausting, you are content where you are, and you believed the company was content to keep you where you are. “This is a big change, sir. Could I have some time to think about it?” “Of course, we don’t have to announce anything for another two weeks. Take your time think it over, but I’m sure you’ll find the benefits outweigh any minor inconveniences you face now.” His smile broadens as you nod. Exiting his office, you find your co-workers packing up and saying their farewells. A glance at the clock confirms that the workday has come to an end. You breath a sigh of relief. After that bombshell, you wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything. Grabbing your own bag, you head out of the building to your bus stop. The bus ride home is spent in silence. You watch the world pass by, but notice nothing as your mind weighs the benefits against the “minor inconveniences”. While your boss saw them as minor, you did not see them the same way. Moving meant leaving the apartment you had worked for years to be able to afford. It meant tearing your son from his school and his friends. It meant uprooting the life you had worked so hard to achieve. Did the benefits really outweigh what you would have to give up? You would have a new apartment, probably better than the one you had now, but it wouldn’t be the apartment that you had walked by every day for three years, promising yourself that one day you would live there. Your son would make new friends. The new city would have a good school, maybe a better one than he went to now, but Mark wouldn’t be there. That last thought stills you, and you almost miss your stop. Hoping off the buss, you start towards the school, but the familiar path is a blur as you try to rid Mark from your mind. He doesn’t fit into any of your plans and isn’t one of the “minor inconveniences”. Your relationship with Mark ends at the school gate. As you approach that gate, you find your son standing there talking with Minnie and a few of his other friends. When he notices you, he says his goodbyes and heads towards you. “How about a hug today, kiddo?” You hold your arms open wide, and after a moments hesitation, he walks into them. Squeezing him tight, you breath deeply. “You know I’m the only kid my age whose mom still hugs him?” He mumbles into your shoulder. “That’s either because they don’t want to be hugged or because their moms don’t love them as much as I love you.” You reply, releasing him. He gives you a look, causing you to chuckle. “I was thinking BBQ for dinner tonight. What do you think?” “Really? Yes! Let’s go!” He starts off down the street before you can change your mind.

Sitting at the table waiting for the waitress to bring your drinks, you prepare yourself for the coming conversation. This move will affect him just as much as it affects you. He has a right to know what’s coming and to add his input. 

“Mom, what is it?” His question startles you and draws your attention to him. “What?” “You keep staring at nothing and sighing, and you said we could have BBQ tonight. Something is going on.” Your poker face never was the greatest. Nodding, you begin. “I’ve got some good news, but it could also be bad news.” He nods for you to continue. “My boss called me into his office today to offer me a promotion.” His eyes go wide, and he beams at you. “That’s awesome, mom! You’re the best worker at the company. You deserve a promotion. Why is that bad news?” “The promotion means we have to move.” “Where?” “Another country.” Silence. He stares at you, the joy from moments before washed away by this revelation. “Sweetie-” “Mom, we can’t move to another country. What about my friends and my school and our apartment, and everyone here. We can’t leave all of that.” His voice is a squeak, evidencing the boy he still is. He stares at you with those eyes, and you feel your inside crumble. “I know we would have to give up a lot, and I know that would be hard. But, there are a lot of good things that would come with the new job and the move. We would find you a new school, and you can make new friends. I would be making more money which means that we would be able to do more fun things like go on vacations and adventures.” “Would you be working as much?” You’d be working more. The answer shows on you face. He snorts, crossing his arms. “We won’t be going on any adventures. You’ll be too busy working, and I’ll be home alone with no friends.” “Kiddo, you’ll make-” His glare cuts you off. He’s angry, and he has every right to be. “I think we should both give this some serious thought, and then we can talk about it again.” His response is a huff.

Working with your sewing machine is a relief. If you had to struggle with the demon school machine, you would have gone on a rampage. The promotion has been dominating your thoughts, robbing you of sleep and leaving you peevish. You’ve weighed the pros and cons a thousand times and come to no satisfactory conclusion. Your son is firm in his resolution to stay and refusing to speak to you which irritates your aggravated state. You’re a toe stub away from a full melt down. 

A knock, knock on your work table draws your eyes to Mark who is standing above you with a two steaming mugs in his hand. “Tea?” He offers. While you should say “no” and return to your work because being around Mark isn’t helping your situation, you straighten, stretching the muscles in your back, and reach for the mug. The warmth spreads through your aching fingers, and you sigh as you breath in the tea’s earthy smell. The steam caresses your face, relaxing the muscles. “Thank you.” You mumble as you bring the mug to your lips. “You know even Okoye needed the help of the Dora Milaje when she took on Killmonger.” He states as he perches on the edge of the table. You snort, nearly spilling tea down your front. “What?” “Okoye is the greatest warrior Wakanda has, but she was still able to accept the help of her fellow warriors.” He says, taking a sip from his own mug. “I’m sorry. Are you using a Black Panther analogy to tell me that it’s okay to accept help?” You raise an eyebrow at Mark as you lean back in your chair. Mark smiles and shrugs his shoulders. “It got you to smile didn’t it?” The smile, he referenced, thins to a line, but you can’t keep the edges from tugging upward. “So it at least accomplished one of it’s tasks.” “And the other was to get me to accept help?” “To let you know that you can.” His eyes hold yours, and you feel yourself falling back through time to that day on your parent’s doorstep. The last day you had accepted anyone’s help. “Are you offering again?” Your eyes fall from him as you set the mug on the table, your fingers fiddling with it’s handle. “I’ve never stopped.” His voice is light, and you can hear the smile in it. But the words lay heavy on your shoulders. “Mark-” But you don’t know what to say after that. Does he want you to apologize? Do you want to accept his help? You don’t even know what you want?   “I hear congratulations are in order.” He says sparing you from your unfinished thought. “What?” “Your son told me that you’ve been offered a promotion.” Mark explains. The action shouldn’t surprise you. Your son has been attached to Mark since his first day of school. He’s the first solid male figure in his life. “What else did he say?” Mark pauses, his eyes drifting to a corner of the room. “You said it was okay to accept your help, Mark.” You don’t look at him as you speak, and the words burn on the way out. But you say them in the hopes of alleviating your ever mounting stress. “He won’t talk to me. I’d like to know how he’s feeling.” “He doesn’t want to move. He’s afraid he’ll be alone because he won’t have any friends and you’ll be too busy to spend time with him.” Your son is shy. A truth which you have buried as you’ve contemplated your decision. His fear is well-founded, and it rips at your chest. “You don’t think I should take it.” The irritation that’s been gnawing at you bleeds into your words, turning them from a question to an accusation. Mark holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender, and with a simple smile says, “I think you should do what you think is right.” He relaxes his arms, folding his hands on his lap. His smile and demeanor fit his words, supporting them, but his eyes don’t. His smile doesn’t reach them and an emotion resides in them which sets your heart racing. The emotions which you have been suppressing for years burst forth, and you find yourself asking, “How do you feel about this, Mark?” The question encompasses more than this moment and this decision. The question goes back years to when you were kids growing up in the same neighborhood. You ask him how he feels, but really you want to know why he followed you all those days, why he offered you a hand and a place to stay, why he was with your son at the principle’s office, and why he keeps showing up in your life. “I don’t want you to go.” The answer is simple and soft. No loud declaration or demand. “What?” “I’ve never wanted you to go, but I understand that just because I want you to stay doesn’t mean you should.” He smiles, shattering everything inside of you. “Why?” The question is pointless and self-serving, but you have to know, want to hear him say it. “Because I love you. I have since that first day I followed you on your wanderings.” Tears leak from your eyes, evidence of your wreckage within. “I-I...” You stutter as your brain shifts through the rubble for a response. “I have to go.” You stand up, grab your bag, and run like you did back then like you always do.

“It’s time to go.” Your son informs you. They’re the only words he’s spoken to you in the last week.

You catch his eyes in the bathroom mirror and give him a smile as you nod. “I’ll be ready in just a minute.” His lips remain a thin line as he turns and heads for the door. A sigh forces the air from your chest and slumps your shoulders. After a final check of your make-up, you head out of the bathroom and towards the front door where your son is waiting. He fixes his eyes on  the door as he waits for you to slip on your shoes, and he is out the door the second they are on. He keeps two steps ahead of you the whole way to the school. “How much longer do you plan to keep this up? If we move, are you never going to speak to me again?” “You’re going to take the job.” He whirls around to face you with tears welling in his eyes. Clearing your throat, you respond, “I didn’t say that. I just wanted to know.” “If I say ‘yes’, can we stay here?” Hope has replaced the tears, and you find it wrenches your heart more. “We should hurry. I don’t want you to be late.” You start to walk again, and your son plods along behind you.

The concert is beautiful. The costumes, the set, the singing. Everything turned out perfectly. But you notice none of it. Your attention is split between your son who whispers and giggles with his friends during each song break and Mark who directs the boys with a patient smile. 

Since the night he confessed, you have kept your distance from him, not even helping with the final set up for the concert. Mark never texted or called about your absence. He allowed you your space like he always does. Staring at the most important person in your life and the person who has always been beside you, you make your decision. The weight which has rested on your shoulders since your boss offered you the promotion lifts instantly. You exhale all the stress and smile as you sit back and enjoy the rest of the concert. When the last song is sung and the children take their bows, you stand up and applaud with the rest of the parents. Your son finds you in the crowd. His smile pushes his cheeks into his eyes, and he practically glows with pride. But all too soon, memory returns, and he whips his attention from you. You continue to applaud though until the children take their final bow and exit the stage. Leaving your seat, you head back stage to share your decision with your son. Before you can reach him though, you run into Mark. He freezes when he sees you, and you mirror the behavior. Clearing his throat, he nods to you and continues on his way. “Mark.” He stops. “Can I talk to you?” He turns his eyes finding yours. The way he looks at you stills your heart and stops your breath. He’s searching, and you wonder what he sees. Whatever he saw causes him to nod again as he walks towards you. He leads you to a small alcove which allows you both a modicum of privacy. Standing a few feet apart, Mark starts talking, “If this is about what I said the other night, I want to-” You hold up a hand stopping him. “I’m sorry.” You apologize, staring him straight in the eyes though your mind screams in protest. “I’m sorry I ran then and that I ran all those years ago. I tell myself that I’m strong and independent but most of the time I’m just scared. And I act out of fear. Even as I say all of this to you, I’m scared,” you release a shuddering breath but continue, “but I’m tired of letting my fear control me. I love you too, Mark. I’ve loved you since before I can remember.” The truth flies from your lips leaving you with only fear as you study Mark’s face. He smiles, not big and bright but small and sad. Watching him, your heart plummets. “What I said that night is the truth. I love you, but I know that just because I love you doesn’t mean I can stop you from doing what is best for you.” You blink as your mind works to unravel the meaning behind his words. His response was unexpected and unwanted. Searching his eyes, realization strikes. “The job. You’re talking about the job.” You chuckle to yourself which furrows Mark’s brow. “I’m not taking the job, Mark.” “If it’s because of me…” You both know the end of the sentence. You smile up at him, and yours is big and bright. “It’s not because of you. Well, it’s not fully because of you.” Your smile eases as sensibility asserts itself. “I would be lying if I said you didn’t play into my decision. “The truth is it really is an incredible job. It comes with more money and more opportunities. And for those reasons, I’d be a fool not to take it. But it also comes with more hours and more traveling which means less time I get to spend with my son. You pause, your eyes becoming unfocused as your mind travels back to your early years. “When he was little, and I was putting myself through that hell; I told myself it’ll be worth it. If I work hard now and put in the hours, when he’s older I won’t have to. I can have time with my son.” Glancing back up at Mark, you continue, “If I take this job, I’ll have lied to myself all those years. I only have so much time before my son goes off to live his own life. I want to spend all the time I can with him until that day. “After that day,” you shrug your shoulder, “I’ll take a job with money and opportunities and hours and traveling. So I guess, I’m not saying no. I’m saying not now.” “Not now.” Mark nods with a true smile. “Not now.” You repeat returning his smile. “So what happens now then?” “I wouldn’t be opposed to dinner.” You cock a brow. “I also like movies. Video games occasionally. They’re really good stress relievers.” Mark snorts and nods. “I’m free for dinner most nights. And I also like movies and video games.” “Do I get to go to dinner and the movies and play video games too?” Both of your heads turn to face your son who stands in front of the alcove, smiling up at you two with his hands clasped behind his back, a familiar glint in his eye. “How long have you been there?” You ask. “Long enough to know that you two love each other and we’re not moving.” He smiles up at you. You’re caught between wanting to scold him and wanting to laugh. “And you didn’t think you should announce your presence?” “No.” Mark laughs, and you glare at him, but he continues. Shaking your head, you rub your eyes. “I’m hungry. Are you both hungry?” Glancing between the two, you find them both agreeing. “Good. Then let’s go to dinner, and we can talk about all of this there.” Your son smiles wide and heads for the door. As you start to follow him, you feel a hand slip into yours. Mark meets your eyes and offers you a simple smile. You return the smile and fall into step with him as you two head after your son.

[markszone]

Water Gun Wars (feat. Haechan and Johnny)

Summary: You find the boys in a water gun battle in the middle of a school carnival... 

Pairing: boyfriend!Mark x female reader

Genre: fluff, fluff, fluff, crack

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.5K

(A/n: this is my first EVER Mark one shot ahahaha !! I was bored on a hot quarantine day... hope you enjoy!!❤️)

It was the day of the annual summer carnival in school and you were late, as always. Since you were a part of the organizing team along with Mark, the leader had mentioned showing up a bit earlier than planned, but you overslept since it was a Saturday. You quickly threw on something comfortable and appropriate for the heat and left immediately. 

It wasn’t long before you reached the school grounds. You rushed to the back of the school field where there were already plenty of people who had arrived. There were booths set up all across the field and bouncy house castles. You walked around looking for the event organizing team leader, it wasn’t long before you found him holding his clipboard giving orders to another member. He eyed you and you walked up to him.

“I’m here,” you said.

“And you’re late,” he responded.

You shrugged once again it was Saturday, meaning it was a miracle you even got off your bed.

“Find Lee and make sure he’s doing something productive,” he ordered.

“Find Lee, got it.” you nodded. 

You walked around looking for your boyfriend, which was hard to do since there were so many people. 

It wasn’t long before you found him drenched in water near the cotton candy booth sporting a black short sleeved polo shirt, a pair of denim shorts and white sneakers. He had a water gun in one hand and cotton candy in the other. He looked heavenly and you stopped breathing for a moment until you realized you were staring too long, you shook your head and got back to reality and walked up to him.

“Mark,” you called.

He looked around and found you and his smile widened. He started walking towards you and you both met halfway. He offered some cotton candy by motioning it towards you and you gladly accepted. “Hey, cutie,” he said, still smiling and kissing your cheek. 

“Hi,” you replied. ““Why are you all wet?”

“Haechan and Johnny shot me and soaked my shirt,” he answered. “I need to find them and retaliate.” Waving the water gun around.

“I can see that you’ve been doing a great job locating them,” you said dryly.

“A soldier must eat in order to go to war,” he pointed out. 

“Well, looks like you’re fighting a losing battle,” you said.

He raised his green water gun and stepped forward. “You dare challenge the mighty Mark?”

“No, I’m sorry just lower the gun.” You rushed.

“You don’t give me orders, pretty face,” he said.

You opened your mouth to remind who really was in charge, but he splashed water in your mouth. You spat out the water, when he shot both your shoulders. You watched the water seep into your blue shirt revealing the outlines of your bra.

“Mark I can see my bra!” You cried.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he replied, smirking. He immediately felt bad and apologized while trying to block you from other people’s vision while still playfully smirking.

“Come on I’ll buy you a shirt,” he said

“It’s pretty sunny I can wait for it to dry,” you said, not wanting him to spend money on you. 

“Well, I feel uncomfortable with it,” he said, grabbing your hand holding you a bit behind him, so he could block you from the eyes of males.

“You’re being a tad protective, don’t you think?” You raised a brow.

“You’re being a tad too comfortable considering we are surrounded by teenage boys,” he replied.

“Point taken,” you said.

You stared at his hand clasped in yours and couldn’t ignore the thrill that ran through you at the sight. Everything felt magnified each time you touched, like every fiber lit up by his touch. Your thoughts got interrupted when he dug his hand through his other pocket and pulled out a walkie talkie.

“Don’t say anything,” he warned.

“Why?”

“Because I’m in the midst of a water gun fight with Haechan and Johnny who are both on the same team, so I radioed into their channel and am listening to their conversations,” he explained excitedly.

“But isn’t that cheating?”

“There is no such thing as cheating, just strategic planning using unethical methods,” he said solemnly.

“Wow that actually sounded smart,” you said impressed.

He pressed a finger to your lip and pressed a button on his walkie talkie.

“Chicago Prince, this is FullSun,” Haechan said. “I repeat this is FullSun.”

“FullSun, this is Chicago Prince,” Johnny replied. “Come in.”

You bit your lip to control the giggle that nearly passed your lips at their childish roleplay.

“Did you spot the target?” Johnny asked.

“I just received a tip that the target was last spotted near the popcorn stand,” Haechan answered. 

“Meet up at the popcorn stand, you’re buying me popcorn,” Johnny stated.

“Roger that. FullSun logging off.”

“Chicago Prince logging off.”

Mark clicked the button and put it back in his pocket.

“Okay. We have to avoid the popcorn stand,” he said.

“Mark quit listening, you're ruining the fun,” you said.

“Fine, I won’t listen to it,” he obeyed. 

You stopped by a booth selling your school’s merchandise, and bought you a shirt. You thanked him and immediately went to the girls restroom to change. You found him waiting outside and ran up to him.

“Come on, I’ll win you something.” You grabbed his hand.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to win you something?”

“Maybe, after,” you suggested.

“Oh, there’s a basketball booth,” you said.

Many of the players seemed to be getting a high score. So you were gonna try. Mark handed a bill to the guy and you quickly grabbed the basketball.

“Baller for life,” you said cooly, before throwing the ball and watching it fall a few feet short of the hoop.

“There was something wrong with the ball.” You frowned.

Mark held his fist to his mouth trying not to laugh too loud and you shoved him.

You finally got the last ball in just when the ringer rang signalling the end of your turn.

“What did I win?” you asked eagerly.

The operator dug his hand in a jar and pulled out a hair band. “Here.” 

“I won a headband?” you asked slowly.

“Yes,” he said flatly.

You handed the headband to Mark. He held it staring at it curiously.

“What do I do with this?” he asked, confused.

“I won it for you, wear it please,” you urged.

He stared at it hesitantly, before placing it over his head and sweeping his black hair back. You hadn’t realized he could get more beautiful, but with his hair swept away neatly he did, exposing his handsome face while revealing his forehead and high cheekbones. Mark Lee truly is a sight to see.

“C’mon, babe, I’ll win you a real thing,” he said cooly while grabbing your hand and kissing your cheek. “Thank you though,” he smiled at you.

“Freeze!” 

You both turned around to see Haechan and Johnny with their guns aimed at Mark.

“He took a hostage,” Haechan dramatically yelled. 

“This just turned into a search and rescue,” Johnny dramatically yelled, as well.

You were going to move away before  you got caught in their gun fight. When Mark forcefully grabbed your waist and placed you in front of him, his left hand softly gripped your left arm and the right hand held his water gun to your head.

“I’ll shoot her,” he warned.

Chivalry really was dead.

“Are you serious? I’m not getting soaked again,” you whine.

“Let us leave and there won’t be any casualties.” Mark offered.

“We’ll risk it,” Haechan said carelessly.

“But she’ll die,” Johnny said looking conflicted.

“If you don’t have the stomach for it, I’ll handle it,” Haechan said seriously.

Were these boys serious about life? It was a water gun fight. Not a war zone.

“Truce,” I called.

“Hostages can’t call truce.” Haechan chuckled.

“Mark call truce,” you said.

“Never,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d rather die.”

You turned to face him and touched his cheek softly.

“Please call truce for my sake. My fragile heart can’t handle any more surprises,” you whispered to your lover. 

“I’ve never called truce before, babe. I’ll sound like a loser,” he said lowly, defeated.

“No baby, you’ll sound brave,” you convinced him.

The cute boy stared at you for a long moment.

“Truce,” he called lowering the gun.

“We won,” Johnny said excitedly, walking to Haechan and doing a handshake.

“By default,” Mark added. “And only because I had to protect my woman.” 

“I thought we’d have to shoot you for a moment. Glad it never came to that,” Haechan said relieved, putting his hand to his chest.

“Yeah, I could never do that to you,” Johnny added, wiping a fake tear.

“Yes, I’m glad,” you said smiling up to Mark, wrapping an arm around him and kissing his cheek. 

Even though you knew he didn’t like losing, you were grateful Mark had put his pride aside for you. He’d do anything for you, actually.

“Ugh babe, not in public!” he exclaimed, cheeks flushing and a smile forming. “Come on, I’ll take you home.” 

[doieslove]

[1:11pm]

24. “You’re trembling.”

~

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“How could you possibly know that?” you asked, looking over your shoulder to glare. Mark crossed his arms and stared back at you.

“Well, for one, you’re trembling,” he stated simply. Stupid hands, you thought. You tried grabbing the lap bar to keep your hands from shaking so much but you couldn't help that it kept running through your body. You could hear the screams of the people on the roller coaster before you. Your stomach turned at the thought of riding at high speed and turning upside down. You were going to kill Jaemin for suggesting this ride.

“And,” Mark’s voice broke you from your sweets thoughts of revenge on Jaemin. “I know you’re mad at me.”

You rolled your eyes and scooted closer to the edge with your back turned him. The tension from the week before was still there no matter how much you tried to shake it. There was no escape now. Being stuck on this ride with him after that day. After he rejected you.

“I’m going to university in the fall. 

I don’t want to disappoint you.”

You shook your head. You knew it was too good to be true. Having Mark Lee as your best friend in life was the one perfect thing in your life and you had to mess it up with your complicated feelings. If you were mad at anyone, it was yourself.

“I’m not mad at you,” you said a little too harsh to be believable. You heard him sigh behind you.

“Right.”

Your own sigh mirrored his. It was awkward. A feeling that you never thought you would have with him. Everything used to be so effortless but now it felt like every word had to be careful. It was painful, even more than the rejection.

You leaned back against the seat, facing forward rather than away from him. You kept your gaze forward, but from the corner of your eye you could see him leaned over the lap bar. His head hung low in dejection. You longed to reach over and give him a shoulder rub. Something that always made him feel better. Something you would’ve done easily before this whole mess. Now just the thought of it seemed too much. You sighed again. You opened your mouth to speak but he spoke before you.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his head down. “I guess I was just scared.”

“What do mean?” you asked, fully turning to him.

“Going to university.” He leaned back in his seat but now he was the one avoiding your gaze. “Leaving you? It’s gonna be the first time in six years we won’t see each other everyday. It’ll be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

You stared at him, a little shocked from his confession. You couldn’t find any words to say but thankfully he kept going.

“I’m scared,” he said quietly, “that you’ll hate me.”

“Hate you?” you said, incredulously. “Mark, I could never hate you.”

“But what if I have a test to study for? What if I get too busy and don’t have time for you? You’d be upset, I know you. I’m scared I’d only disappoint you. You don’t deserve that.”

There was a small smile on your face and you reached over to rub his shoulder. It touched you how thoughtful he was. But you also knew he was thinking a little too much.

“All these ‘what ifs’ you’re saying. You’re getting stressed over something that hasn’t happened yet, Mark,” you said softly.

“I know,” he replied,  “but what if it does?”

“Hey, you said it again!”

His eyes widened and he laughed loudly. A full, loud laugh that filled your heart.

“I’m sorry!” he said, as you playfully hit him on the arm. “I didn’t even think about it!”

After a fit of laughter, both of you settled in a comfortable silence. Something that you haven’t had in a while. It felt nice.

And it was that moment the train of carts started to move forward. You suddenly remembered where you were. Your hands were back on the lap bar with an iron tight grip. You scooted closer to Mark instinctively. He put his hand over yours in an effort to help calm you.

“Can we,” Mark paused and you looked up at him. “Can we talk about this later?”

You smiled, wider than you had with him in a week. A week too long. Maybe everything would be okay between you two after all.

“Of course.”  

---

Jeno and Jaemin howled in laughter. You wanted to punch someone.

“Okay, laugh it up but it’s not that funny.”

“Yeah, it is,” they both said at the same time, making them laugh even more.

The screen displayed a picture of Mark and you taken on the ride. Mark had his arms above his head with a huge smile on his face. You, on the other hand, looked utterly terrified with your arms wrapped around his middle. You inwardly cringed at your face staring back at you.

“Guys, leave her alone,” Mark tried his best to sound serious. They ignored him, of course.

“Oh, this is too good,” Jeno was holding his stomach.

“Hey,” Jaemin said, hitting Jeno on the arm. “You wanna buy the picture? We can split it.”

“Don’t you dare! Hey! Get back here!”

[blendofcolour]

backlash; got7 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/254784887-backlash-got7?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=blendOfcolour&wp_originator=TbCah1z5xojlV%2B0gKhUHWBgWAL4TGh48FA4Oii6niNbPBszsqUrxCAZOol1PyxbXG0jQjix1wxM%2FB4Zg%2BdvM0tOj%2FchxtQB0OQZ0eK5DB8zRdkX3UEjq8Q%2FIu0SR6mRB ❝Cosmovisión paralela de acontecimientos, situaciones, relatos, chats, type of boyfriend y reacciones inverosímiles con Got7 bajo mi mera adjudicación❞ - pedidos abiertos. Ⓒ blendofcolour

[minniepetals]

Hi! For the drable game can write a mafia au with the quote “stay behind me” please and thank you💜

"Who dares to touch my wife?" A voice so deep and low you know more than anyone you would be shuddering in fear at that alone if you hadn't known who it was.

But you do and because you know, that grave tone of his only brings relief down your tense body.

"M..Mr. Kim..!"

Now that he's gotten caught, the man trembles in fear and immediately releases your wrist. You can still feel the lasting ache from the tight grip but try to ignore it for the moment being.

"Come here, babygirl," Namjoon calls out to you and you immediately take his hand so that he could pull you over to his side. The second you fall in line before him, he's quick to inspect your body while the his men keep their eyes on the man. "Are you hurt?" He asks when he finds some lingering red marks on your wrist.

"He, um..." You hesitate to tell him the truth but with those dark eyes of his, you know your husband would want nothing but the truth, even if it means he may go berserk. "It...mmn. It hurts," you admit and you aren't sure how but his eyes only gets darker upon your truth.

"You'll be alright." Namjoon remains calm before you despite you understanding just how much he wishes to go out of control right now. He takes your wrist to bring it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon your pulse before leading you to stand behind him. "Stay behind me, alright? The boys will get here soon."

When he sees you give him an obedient nod, Namjoon finally faces the guy once more, gun ready and pointed right at him.

"You've signed your death warrant the moment you laid your hands on a mafia's wife," he says and it doesn't take long for Yoongi and Hoseok to show up at the scene.

"Come on, let's get you home." Yoongi takes your hand to lead you away while Hoseok remains at the scene, backing up Namjoon.

You take a moment to look back at the two before obediently following Yoongi.

"Um—"

"Don't apologize, the only one at fault was that man," he states before you can even get a word in. You feel a gentle squeeze on your hand and find a small reassuring smile from him to make sure that you know their anger aren't targeted at you.

Feeling safe in his presence once again after that incident, you find a drop of tear rolling down your cheek as you return the smile his way.