#you do not need to match i wanted to set the scene!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deonn-jaelle · 2 days ago

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Make love to me

“When my days look low, pull me in close and don’t let me go”

“When the world is at war, let our love heal us all”

word count: 3,753

warnings‼️ : SMUTTTT (but sweet passionate, loving smut🥰)

pairing : husband aurelien x black female wife reader

summary : your husband has been facing what feels like war in the media and all he wants to do is forget about it, so what better way to help him than to make love.

note: i know i said i was gonna wait till 12 but i couldn’t so, here you go. consider this my christmas gift to you. i hope you love it as much a i loved writhing it. just prepare yourselves for some straight up baby making scenes in this yall. i went a little crazy on the french in this but i put the translations for yall of course!! oh also the song is on repeat the whole time. i had to add that in for timeline purposes :) anyway, enjoy!!!!

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of Beyoncé’s 1+1 playing from your speaker. You had picked the song intentionally—it was comforting, grounding, and tonight, you felt like you might need it.

Aurélien had texted you an hour ago saying he was on his way home, but there was something clipped about the message, a short tone that wasn’t like him. You knew he’d been struggling lately, battling the weight of expectations that came with playing at the highest level. It didn’t matter how well he performed; there was always someone on the internet with something to say, often cruel, thoughtless words meant to tear him down.

And Aurélien, for all his confidence on the field, had a heart that felt too deeply sometimes.

The sound of his key turning in the lock broke your thoughts. You looked up from your spot on the couch, wrapped in one of his hoodies, your bare legs stretched out over the cushions.

The door opened, and there he was—tall, broad, and beautiful, but carrying an energy that made the air in the room feel heavier. His dark curls were frizzy, his jaw set in a way that told you he’d been grinding his teeth. He stepped inside, dropped his gym bag by the door, and let out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey, baby” you greeted softly, not wanting to overwhelm him.

His eyes flicked to you, and though they softened for a moment, the tension in his body remained. “Hey.”

“You good?”

“Yeah” he said quickly, but the sharpness in his tone betrayed him. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, his movements rigid.

You got up and followed him, leaning against the counter as you watched him take a long sip. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and for a moment, you were distracted by the sheer perfection of him. But the crease between his brows brought you back.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently.

He set the bottle down with a little more force than necessary and leaned against the counter opposite you, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s nothing.”

“Aurélien.”

His name on your lips made him pause. He sighed again, dragging a hand down his face before finally meeting your eyes. “It’s just the same shit, you know? Every game, every performance, no matter what I do, people always have something to say. If I have a good match, it’s not good enough. If I make one mistake, I’m suddenly overrated. It’s exhausting.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of what he was saying. “I’m sorry, baby. People can be awful.”

“It’s like they forget I’m human” he continued, his frustration spilling over. “They don’t see the work I put in, the sacrifices I make. They just… they judge.”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to carry all of that alone.”

He looked down at you, his eyes softening again, but this time with something deeper—gratitude, love. “You always know what to say” he murmured.

“Because I see you, Aurélien. The real you. Not the headlines or the tweets or the highlights. Just you.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find an anchor in the storm. And then, in one swift motion, he pulled you into his arms. His embrace was strong, almost desperate, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him just as tightly.

“I don’t deserve you” he whispered into your hair.

“Don’t say that” you said firmly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “You deserve everything good in this world, and I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that if I have to.”

His lips quirked up into a small smile, but there was something else in his eyes now—a spark, a flicker of heat that made your pulse quicken.

“Thank you” he said, his voice low.

“For what?” you laughed slightly

“For being you.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate, as if he needed to lose himself in you to escape the weight of the world.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest and around his neck. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss.

“Baby” you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless.

“Let me forget” he whispered, his hands sliding under the hoodie you wore—his hoodie. His fingers brushed against your bare skin, igniting a fire that spread through your entire body.

“You can take what you need from me” you said, your voice barely audible but full of meaning.

In the bedroom, the atmosphere shifted like a storm breaking into calm—a transformation charged with electricity. The frustration and tension that had clung to him earlier melted away, replaced by something primal, raw: pure love. The air was thick with it, heavy and needy, every breath you took filling your lungs with his presence.

Aurélien stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you as you sat perched on the edge, your legs dangling loosely. His broad shoulders seemed even wider under the soft, warm light of the bedside lamp, casting shadows across the hard planes of his chest and abs. His hoodie—once your cocoon of comfort—lay discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving you exposed in just your simple black underwear.

His eyes were on you, dark and intense, moving over your body as though this was the last time he would have you like this. every curve, every dip, every inch, he adored you. The weight of his gaze sent a coolness down your spine, but it wasn’t discomfort you felt. It was anticipation.

“Je suis tellement amoureuse de toi, ma chérie” (I am so in love with you my darling) he murmured, his voice low and rough, as if the words were being dragged from the deepest part of him.

Your skin warmed under his scrutiny, a blush rising to your cheeks. You resisted the urge to look away, to shy from the intensity in his eyes, and instead met his gaze head-on. “You’re so perfect baby” you said, your voice soft but steady.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, the smallest curve of arrogance and appreciation. “Say it again” he commanded, his tone firm but not unkind, the dominant edge sending a thrill coursing through you.

You swallowed, your heart racing in your chest as your eyes locked with his. “You’re perfect, Aurélien.”

This time, your words were heavier, weighted with conviction and the gravity of the moment. Something shifted in his expression, his smirk softening into something more dangerous—something tender and possessive all at once.

He moved onto the bed with a grace that was almost predatory, his long frame caging you in as he leaned over you. His hands planted on either side of your body, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His proximity was intoxicating, his scent—woodsy and warm—wrapping around you like a drug.

His lips found your neck, soft at first, a ghost of a kiss as his breath tickled your skin. Then, he pressed his mouth more firmly, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I love you so much. My good girl” he whispered, his voice low and warm, like melted chocolate.

The simple words sent a jolt through you, your breath hitching as a shiver rippled down your spine. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and it wasn’t lost on you that he enjoyed your reaction.

Aurélien’s hands moved then, large and warm as they slid over your body, exploring you with a purpose that felt urgent yet somehow slow. His fingers trailed up your thighs, pausing to knead at your hips before gliding along your waist and higher, brushing against the sides of your breasts. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry; he savored, as though every touch was a declaration, every caress a promise.

When he kissed you again, it was different from the one in the kitchen. This kiss was slower, more thoughtful. His lips moved against yours with a purpose, coaxing, teasing, claiming. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a conversation, an unspoken exchange of everything you felt for each other.

His tongue slid against yours, tasting, exploring, leaving you breathless and wanting more. His hands continued their exploration, every stroke, every press of his palms a reminder of his strength, his control.

“Je suis à toi bébé” (I am yours baby) he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and possessive, sending a thrill straight to your core.

“And I’m all yours” you whispered back, your voice trembling with need and sincerity.

Aurélien pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours. He didn’t need to say anything else; his gaze alone told you everything he felt—that you were his anchor, his sanctuary, the only place he felt whole.

“And it’s me and you, That’s all we’ll have when the world is through” the music played on

Aurelien gazed up at you from between your thighs, his dark eyes smoldering with adoration. The dim lamp lighting flickered across his chiseled features, casting a warm glow on your skin. With a reverent tenderness, he slowly parted your folds, face to face with your dripping wet core.

He exhaled a shuddering breath, your intoxicating scent flooding his senses. He pressed a sweet kiss to your center, a promise of the passion to come. His tongue, ever so lightly, traced the length of you—a featherlight caress that sent tingles cascading through your body.

Aurélien gazed up at you from between your trembling thighs, his dark eyes blazing with a mixture of adoration and raw hunger. The dim, golden light from the bedside lamp danced across his sharp features, highlighting the strength of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His warm, broad hands cradled your thighs, holding you open with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

His gaze never left yours as he leaned in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive flesh. Slowly, almost torturously, he parted you with the same care an artist might give their masterpiece, revealing your most delicate parts.

Aurélien exhaled a deep, shuddering breath, the sound laced with pure desire. Your intoxicating taste flooded his senses, drawing a low groan from the back of his throat. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your center—gentle, yet filled with a promise of the unrelenting passion that was ahead.

“Mon amour” he whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion, vibrating against your skin. “You taste so good”

His tongue flicked out to trace the length of you, a touch that sent a roll of hot shivers rippling through your body. Your fingers instinctively gripped the sheets, your chest heaving as he began to explore you with calculated precision.

Aurélien dipped his tongue into your entrance, savoring the tangy essence of you with a low groan of approval. He moved with a slowness that bordered on maddening, his tongue swirling and stroking with unrelenting attention. His lips followed, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along your vulva, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

The soft rasp of his stubble against your inner thighs only heightened your sensitivity, and the sound of his quiet moans was enough to drive you wild. His hands tightened on your thighs, his thumbs gently brushing against your skin as he held you open, his strong grip grounding you while his mouth sent you spiraling.

“Aurélien” you breathed, your voice trembling as he latched onto your clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure. He suckled gently, his tongue flicking against you with expert precision.

He groaned deeply, the vibrations of his voice resonating against your most intimate parts, pulling an uncontrollable moan from your lips. The pure, unfiltered pleasure made your head tilt back, your fingers threading through his curls, tugging him impossibly closer.

Aurélien pulled back briefly, his breath hot against your glistening skin. He looked up at you, his dark eyes smoldering with intensity. “Look at me” he murmured, his voice rich and commanding.

You forced your gaze down, locking eyes with him, and the intimacy of the moment hit you like a wave. The connection, the unspoken language between you, was almost too much to bear.

“Je t’adore” (I adore you) he said, his voice soft but resolute, the words spoken like a vow.

His tongue returned to your clit, swirling delicate circles before pressing firmly against that spot that made you arch off the bed. His movements were calculated, measured—he knew your body better than you did, and he wielded that knowledge like a master craftsman.

Arousal coated your thighs, his chin and cheeks, the evidence of your pleasure only spurring him on. His lips and tongue lavished devoted attention to every nerve ending, every inch of you, as if he wanted to worship you until there was nothing left of you but bliss.

He took his time with you, drawing out every moment, every sensation until you were trembling beneath him. His lips and hands worked in tandem, finding every sensitive spot, every place that made you gasp or sigh or moan his name. He was meticulous and relentless, his touch firm yet tender, as though he wanted to ensure that you felt as cherished as he always made you feel.

Aurélien’s hands slid up your thighs, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just enough to ground you. His mouth moved with precision, alternating between soft, teasing strokes and deep licks that had you teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Oh baby please don’t stop” you gasped again, your voice high and trembling. The sound of your voice desperate for him seemed to ignite something within him, and he doubled down, his tongue curling and stroking inside you in a way that unraveled you completely.

Your climax washed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking beneath his relentless attention. He stayed with you through every moment, his mouth softening but never leaving you, as if he wanted to pull every last drop of pleasure from your trembling frame.

As you came down from the high, your breaths ragged and your body pliant beneath his hands, Aurélien pressed one last lingering kiss to your center. He rested his forehead against your inner thigh, his breathing heavy, his hands stroking your trembling legs as if to soothe you.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum Yn” he said softly, his voice still thick with emotion. His lips quirked into a small, satisfied smile as he gazed up at you. And in his eyes, you saw nothing but devotion.

“So when the world’s at war, let our love heal us all, help me let down my guard” the speakers sang quietly

Aurélien positioned himself between your trembling thighs, his broad shoulders framing you like a protective wall. His eyes locked onto yours, glossy and blown pupils, and his dark and molten with desire, as he gripped your hips with a reverence that made your heart stutter. Slowly, he pressed forward, his thick length stretching you inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming—almost too much yet utterly perfect.

When he finally joined with you completely, the world outside the bedroom fizzled out. There was no noise, no criticism, no judgment—just the two of you, your bodies and souls tangled together in a rhythm that felt sacred.

“Mon amour, mon cœur” (My love, My heart) he whispered, his deep, husky voice tinged with a tremble that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His words, raw and intimate, wrapped around you like a bear hug as he buried himself until he couldn’t go anymore, the heat of him melding with your own.

For a moment, he stayed perfectly still, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. You felt his chest expand with a deep, shuddering breath, as though he was savoring every second of being fully inside you. “Tu es ma vie, mon seul et unique” (You are my life, my one and only) he murmured, the French rolling off his tongue like a prayer.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper. The way his body fit against yours felt like a key sliding into its lock, perfectly aligned and meant to be. His lips brushed against yours, tender and slow, his kiss carrying all the unspoken emotions that neither of you could fully articulate.

Then he began to move.

His hips rolled in a slow, tantric rhythm, every thrust designed to unravel you. His muscular chest pressed against your breasts, teasing your hardened nipples with the friction of his skin against yours. The room was filled with the intoxicating sound of his deep groans and your soft cries, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

“Bébé” (baby) he groaned, his voice hoarse as he suddenly stilled, his length buried impossibly deep within you. Without warning, he shifted your positions. He sat back on his heels, your legs instinctively resting on his shoulders, your bodies perfectly aligned.

The new position sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and he resumed his slow, deep thrusts, each one hitting a spot inside you that made your vision blur. His strong hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he lifted and lowered you onto his shaft. The controlled power of his movements made your head spin, and your nails raked down his hard biceps in a desperate attempt to hold on.

“Oh Aurélien” you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a plea. Your fingers tangled in his, tugging lightly, and he groaned in response, the sound vibrating through you.

“Regarde-moi” (Look at me) he demanded softly, his voice low and commanding. You opened your eyes, locking onto his, and the intensity in his gaze left you breathless. There was no escape from the intimacy of this moment; he was baring his soul with every thrust, and you felt the weight of his love in every touch.

He moved with purpose, his strong hands gripping your hips as he guided you both to a place that felt infinite. His forehead rested against yours, your breaths mingling as you held each other close.

“Say my name again” he murmured, his voice strained but commanding, and you didn’t hesitate.

“Aurélien” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body arched into him.

“C’est ça, mon amour” (That’s it my love) he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his movements becoming slower, deeper, more deliberate. His voice was a low, raspy caress, the French rolling off his tongue like a melody.

Both of your moans echoed, your voices trembling with emotion, his every word heavy with sincerity as you clung to him, every part of you surrendering to the moment.

Aurélien’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression softening, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. “Je te veux, pour toujours” (I want you forever) he murmured, his fingers threading through your hair, holding you as if to ensure you understood.

“I’m here” you whispered softly, your hands cradling his face as your eyes searched his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile before he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. He didn’t need to say anything more. The weight of his love, his devotion, was in every touch, every movement, as he held you close.

“Oh make love to me…” the song continued, on repeat.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Aurélien held you close, his hands never straying far from your body, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. Because together, you were whole. You were enough.

“You’re everything to me” he whispered, his accent thickening with emotion. His hands slid to cup your face, holding you steady as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. The rhythm of his hips never faltered, slow and purposeful as he took you apart piece by piece.

He gently took your legs from his shoulders, his body never breaking its connection to yours. Pushing your knees up to your chest, he adjusted the angle, and the first thrust made you cry out, the new depth sending shockwaves through your body.

“Like this, chérie?” (darling) he murmured, his voice sultry and teasing as his hips began to move with more intensity. Each deep stroke ground against your clit, building the pressure inside you until you thought you might shatter.

“Yes” you hissed, your voice trembling with desperation as your nails dug into the muscles of his back. “Harder, Aurélien. Please fuck me harder.”

His lips curved into a dark, knowing smirk as he complied. His pace quickened, his hips slamming against yours with a force that made the bed creak beneath you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

“Mon dieu” (my god) he growled, his voice ragged as sweat beaded on his bronzed chest. His powerful hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he drove into you with unrelenting passion. “I love fucking you” he rasped, his head dropping to kiss along your neck, his teeth biting down hard on his lip.

“Please Aurélien, I’m so close” you whimpered, your body arching off the bed as the tension in your core squeezing tighter and tighter.

He looked down at you, his dark eyes heavy-lidded with lust and love. “Je te ferai jouir bébé, je t'ai eu” (I will make you cum baby, I’ve got you) he promised, his voice rich and velvety as he shifted his angle slightly, driving deeper and grinding harder against that spot inside you that made you see stars.

With a final, powerful thrust, the coil inside you snapped. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, your body trembling and writhing beneath him as he drove you through the peak and beyond. The intensity of your release triggered his own, and with a deep groan, he buried himself completely inside you.

“Ahhh yesss” he breathed, his body shuddering as his release poured into you, warm and overwhelming. He held you close, his strong arms wrapping around you as though he never wanted to let you go.

As the aftershocks faded, Aurélien gently lowered your legs, his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs as he pressed tender kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “Tu es incroyable” (You are incredible) he murmured, his voice soft and full of awe.

You smiled up at him and hummed in adoration, just wanting to enjoy the silence and intimacy of this moment. Your fingers brushing through his damp curls.

His lips found yours once more, soft and lingering, carrying all the tenderness and devotion he had no words for. The kiss wasn’t rushed or hurried—it was steady, a slow melding of souls that seemed to transcend the physical. His hand cradled the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, looking deep into your eyes as if had had fallen in love all over again.

As his lips moved against yours, the rest of the seized to exist. The noise of scrutiny and doubt that haunted his days, the chaos of life outside these walls—all of it melted into insignificance. In this moment, there was only the warmth of your body beneath his, the taste of your lips, and the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling with his.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his dark eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart. “Je t’aime” (I love you) he murmured softly, the words carrying a gravity that made your chest tighten.

“I love you too” you whispered back, your voice steady but thick with emotion.

Aurélien exhaled a long, contented sigh, his hand sliding down to intertwine with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss to your ring finger before settling beside you, pulling you into the protective embrace of his arms. The sheets tangled around your bodies, warm and soft, as you lay together in the quiet aftermath of your passion.

The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear anchored you, a soothing reminder that whatever storms lay beyond these walls, you’d weather them together. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along your back, his touch as intimate and reverent as it had been all night.

Outside, the night stretched on, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains. But in his arms, wrapped in the cocoon of his love, time felt irrelevant. You were safe here, cherished, seen in a way that felt like the purest form of freedom.

As your eyes began to flutter closed, Aurélien’s lips brushed your temple, a final whispered promise slipping from his lips. “Que tes plus beaux rêves se réalisent mon amour” (May your sweetest dreams come true my love)

And with that, you let yourself drift off, the world outside waiting for another day. For now, there was only this—his warmth, his love, and the unshakable bond that held the two of you together.

#aurelien tchouameni #aurelien tchouameni x reader #aurélien fic #aurelien tchouameni fanfic #aurelien tchouameni smut #aurelien x black reader #Spotify

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lucreziasredwyne · 2 years ago

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where: one of highgarden’s feasting halls within the main keep of the castle when: following the first day of fasting for laytal-al-ikhlas, the sun had now set which allowed for followers of the old way to finally break their fast.

traditionally, it was the rowans of goldengrove who hosted the grandest and largest of celebrations for nights such as these. how often it seemed as though the first three weeks upon the isle of the arbor, where her home seemed more like home than ever, would fly by before departing for goldengrove’s festivities for the final few days. there was something regarding these nights that made her wish to devote herself to something more than prayer, but better practice: in the mind, and in body.

it was during these days and nights that lucrezia redwyne felt the most at ease and confident in her own skin, with a clear purpose of what she wished to have achieved by the end of the holy month. and as she drank water now, quenching the thirst and the headache that had flared at the very back of her head, she was grateful. for the chance to reflect, to repent, and to embraced by their mercy.

“does it not feel las though these halls feel more like home than ever before?” she asked across the table, reaching forward as she peeled at the pomegranate, her tone able to be heard over the sound of the strumming.

how peculiar was it, that the month always seemed to come when one’s soul needed it most; following the years of tension within the fertile rolling hills of the reach, there was nothing like the feeling of peace and serenity that came with wishing to find the goodness in humanity. there was no idealism behind her thoughts; it was clear to see how much they wished to help one another by the mass influx of giving to alms and charitable donations. and now, as the houses of the old way and the rhoynish reachmen sat within the very heart of the realm they no doubt helped secure and consolidate, there seemed to be elements from home.

the lanterns were of those one would find within the bustling lanes and villages within goldengrove, old oak or the arbor, the smell of incense burning, the decorations etched with their old scripture. the sounds of their music, deep and meaningful from lutes, flutes and piano alike.

the ironborn were gone, the war was won, and now it truly felt as though they would never be forced to flee from another home ever again. that night, during their communal prayers, she would pray for the souls of those lost against the valyrian freehold in the wars that sent her people to flee. she would pray for the souls of those who did not make it to see the paradise the gods had bestowed upon them. the souls of lord mustafa chester, his family, and their smallfolk. the lost souls of the osgreys. she would pray for mathis rowan, and pray his soul had finally found a sense of ease to be able to rest.

“allaha şükür kötü günler geride kaldı.“

the souls of lord arlo redwyne, lady maria redwyne and the lord of the arbor, adnan redwyne. she remembered now more than ever before, how lucky she was to see another layat-al-ikhlas. the bards began to play one of her favourite tunes on the lute, and her hazel hues flickered behind her shoulders. the lady of the arbor was the happiest she had been in months.

#open starter.#set after the first day of fasting for laytal-al-ikhlas - finally time to eat #you do not need to match i wanted to set the scene!!!

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gallowsheart · 2 months ago

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@alwaysxinxtrouble

Jesse had no idea how long the woman had been in the camouflaged pit. He didn’t have time to check the twins' traps every day and knew they weren't exactly diligent about it either, despite repeated reminders that rotten meat that had been dead for days was no good to anyone. He guessed it was anywhere from a day or two to only a few hours. He’d had to bind her wrists and ankles and gag her to haul her out, but he’d removed the gag once they reached the slaughterhouse.

Nobody was going to hear her from in there, and he liked having someone to talk to while he worked, even if the conversations could be sort of one-sided. She didn't seem reassured by his promises that he would kill her so quickly she wouldn't even feel it, or that it was lucky he'd found her before the twins did. They liked to play with their food, no matter how many times Abram raged at them that fear and pain affected the flavor. Conversations could be sort of one-sided with them too. Their listening skills were highly selective.

Blood dripped from the edge of a sharp knife while he carved up meat at the counter. He wasn't trying to scare her more, but it was possible he didn't realize what a frightening scene that was. He was waiting for one of his brothers to get home to help with her. Contrary to popular horror movie myth, it was difficult to single-handedly butcher and preserve the meat from anything larger than a pig. Not impossible, but they didn't like to waste anything. The whole process would be smoother with another set of hands. Though Jesse had a tendency to run his mouth, that was not a detail he'd shared with his captive.

He didn’t look up from what he was doing at the sound of the sliding door, assuming it was one of the twins come to check on their haul, until Jed's voice snapped through the space. He had that oldest brother talent of commanding instant attention and making him feel vaguely guilty, even when he hadn't done anything wrong. Or maybe it was just that he was already shouting.

"What the hell are you doing? Jesse, what the fuck."

Jed was staring at Robin, bound on the floor, filthy and crying and looking like she'd just been pulled out of a pit, which, he realized with a sinking feeling, was probably exactly what had happened. He knew the twins had traps set up all over the property, and none of the locals ever made noise about the occasional missing hiker. But this was bad. This was bad. Robin wasn't just some random hiker. Locals were off limits. They never killed people they knew, and he’d already been seen in town with her on multiple dates. They couldn't just kill her, as Jesse had clearly been planning to do.

But they couldn't just let her go either. It was plain at a glance that she'd already seen and heard too much. Jesse never did know how to shut his goddamn mouth.

"Fuck!" He was still yelling, his younger brother's voice competing with his.

"What are you talking about? She was in the trap!"

"That's Robin! That's the girl I'm going out with! Goddamnit, Jesse!" He shoved him hard, heedless of the knife in his hand. It was no threat to him. The Ashworth brothers might infight from time to time, but they always stopped short of actually hurting each other.

"Well what the fuck, Jed! How was I supposed to know?"

Jed ignored him, moving almost on autopilot to Robin. He knelt by her, reaching to loosen the restraints on her wrists. He didn’t like seeing her like that, helpless and terrified. It was still relatively new between them, but he’d liked her. More than he’d liked anyone in a long time. And they would probably have to kill her now. Robin would die for nothing, and her disappearance would bring unwanted attention to the family. Shit.

#character: jericho ashworth #character: jesse ashworth #chat: robin #alwaysxinxtrouble #horror!verse #tw: captivity #tw: cannibalism #tw: death #tw: blood #i stared at this for way too long #please do not feel the need to match length #just trying to set the scene!#let me know if you want anything changed <3

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charmwisp · 1 year ago

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WHERE: DIY pop-up shoppe at rabbit creek; gingerbread house building table WHEN: 17th december, daytime WHO: anyone! ( @anchoragestarters ) CAP: FULLY CAPPED AS OF 14th JANUARY

On paper, this had seemed like the perfect opportunity for Rika. She'd been wanting to reach out more, to try and take part in the living breathing community of Anchorage instead of living as a shadow behind the beaded curtains of her room at the Raven House. The popup had a wonderfully festive atmosphere and the air seemed to Rika as though it hung thick with the excitement and curiosity of its guests and volunteers. As expected, the gingerbread station smelled pleasantly of sugar, spice and (of course) everything nice. This volunteering spot required a few things, of course; a hint of craftiness, a dash of creativity, a generous sprinkling of baking talent and a heaped spoonful of patience. These were standards Rika could meet easily enough, even if the patience required just the smallest stretch of extra effort. She'd known from the start that she would be a little out of her depths, lacking much experience with gingerbread houses due to their lack of a cultural presence during the holiday back home, but she'd gotten the hang of things quickly enough.

That wasn't exactly a good thing. Rika was good at getting carried away, at getting far too invested in the house she was putting together, and she may have gotten distracted from her role of guiding others through their own gingerbread creations. It was only her view of her work was darkened by the shadow of another person that she finally broke free from her spiced reverie. "I'll be with you in just a moment," she said by way of apology, whipping her head up with such abrupt speed that several locks of hair broke free from their loose ponytail binding. "I'm just trying to turn this...hmph, sugar glass into a window for my church." She grunted a little as she spoke. It was tricky work. Still, just as Rika said, there sat on the table before her an overly complicated little gingerbread chapel, still half-built. "Did you need any help? After all, that's what I'm here for!" A pause, and she tucked her hair back behind her ear. "Sorry, I guess I haven't made that very obvious so far, have I?"

#« 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗮。 » / 「 open. 」#this is super simple & you don't need to match length (i just like setting the scene!) but i'm feeling FESTIVE!!#sorry to dump another rika open on you all so soon after my lottery one #esp when i still owe a bunch of replies from that (i'll get to them v soon!! <3)#but i wanted to do something with the diy popups and figured this was the best way!! <3

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namenoted · 10 months ago

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❝ well, here we are, ❞ he says, looking at the spread of books between them. ❝ man, where do we even begin? i guess ... at the beginning, right? ❞

he's putting it on heavy today. while there is nothing necessarily ominous about yagami, no shadow over his shoulder here (not in this world!), there is an air about him. he is a proper, well-put-together boy, and he is oddly helpful, well-mannered, and bred for success. the ultimate academic, an almost teen detective, and japan's top student —— and yet, here he is, sitting in his livingroom cross-legged with his hands on his knees, leaning back to stretch out his ribs against the lining of the couch's base frame and cushions. the tonkatsu he's pulled out is clearly expensive, and despite its use, has been well taken care of.

the general decor is a relative mix of traditional and western —— a nice house —— and yagami is obviously playing comfortable. maybe he really is? still, with company, it's best to keep up appearances. he can't be too comfortable. this person isn't keitaro*.

❝ hey, do you want something to drink before we get started? ❞ their introductory tea is empty, the small pot sitting near their discarded cups and saucers. ❝ water, soda? we also have chips if you want a snack. now that i think about it, i think i need a little 'brain food'. ❞ — @kuroyrii

#* ( 夜神月 ) † † — ic #* ( verse ) † † — modern #kuroyrii #i put it in my modern verse which is pretty general with only a few dn referenes #mostly like calling tokyo university to-oh but that's about it #i went sort of the traditional college route? i hope that's okay since that setting is very easy for yagami but i can also write like #a starter that's him in his later adulthood? late twenties? early thirties? working on the force?? i can switch to that or we can do both!#lmk if anything needs to change but i tried to leave it vague #maybe they share a class or something? or are tutors together working on a schedule for their pupils? becoming TAs? something like that??#feel free to run with it #also on length - do not feel you need to match this AT ALL #this was primarily written so long just to scene set for us but the idea is it can be as long or as short as you want

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vicit-vim-virtus · 3 months ago

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Starter for @deaddoveadventures // Curumë

The city had been torn asunder, as if a gargantuan dragon had ploughed straight through it, pulverising every building, every wall, every single brick and pebble in its endeavour to reach the other end of the city; it had waded through the metropolis as if it had been a mere, knee-high lake. Except that the dragon hadn’t come in the form of an actual dragon, but in that of a legion of goblins and orcs, collaborating to maraud and deplete the city of its wealth and provisions. The devastation was everywhere one turned their head, there was no escaping it. Houses had crumbled and were nothing more but a pile of rubble, streets were buried under mountains of debris, and slowly dying fires, the only living vestiges of the violence that had transpired last night, were, ironically, the only sources of warmth left. The stench of blood and burning wood permeated the air. These last seven days, most denizens had either lost their abodes, lives, or both, and yet their solidarity had united them to tend to the injured and salvage whatever they could find to make their loss slightly more bearable.

The barbaric and monstrous assault had deprived the city of its colour and vigour in a week’s time; everything was etiolated, insipid and reeked of death and decay. Decades ago, when he’d been in the employment of his late father, he’d often traversed to this place, as a merchant to trade. The streets used to be filled with ebullient laughter, boisterous conversation, and the smell of freshly baked bread drifted on the currents of a gentle breeze. Tall trees and exotic plants and flowers, vibrant and sweet, emblazoned the environment, adding to it a touch of nature and tranquility, making one forget that one was, in reality, encompassed by sturdy city walls, a rich assortment of architectural residences, and an enormous crowd of people thronging the roads and alleyways all day long. Now, none of that remained, not even a sliver; those images had been diminished to a mere evocation...

The road meandering up to Luran’s place of destination was impeded by rubble. They’d barely passed the disintegrated city gate when they had been forced to shed the carriage and continue on horseback. But even on their mounts, navigating the ruins proved to be a challenge. The beasts couldn’t find their footing, stumbled, fell, and snorted defiantly when spurs prodded their sides to coerce them over rock and treacherous terrain both rider and animal were cognisant of were unsound. Eventually, Luran dismounted and resumed his laborious journey on foot; the King’s knights, clad in their heavy, shining armour, trailed in his wake. Regardless of happening upon many civilians in need, none approached him — or any of the soldiers — to ask for aid. Presumably because they thought the King’s knights and his emissary weren’t here for them, and therefore, would never assist them. And they were correct. Luran had been sent to discuss financial affairs, among others, with the archbishop who governed the city. The King had no interest in supporting the victims, to alleviate their hardships, their suffering; he was only concerned with the archbishop and how the religious leader would compensate for the loss of gold and other riches.

The cold and desperation, which haunted him outside, were chased from his bones now that he was standing in the archbiship’s warm and luxurious office. Perhaps office wouldn’t do the room justice, atrium would be more apt. Paintings and frescoes adorned the walls and ceiling. Columns and statues were situated on either side of the cavernous hall, and a grand oval table with intricate carvings in its mahogany surface, stood in its centre. Several tall, arched windows, their frames embellished with heavy, gold and burgundy curtains, offered a view over the ravaged city — once a magnificent spectacle to behold, no doubt, but now, just a sad reminder of what was. The cathedral was still surprisingly intact after the bombardment of blazing boulders that had laid waste to the rest of the city. Granted, there were some dents blemishing its walls and a meagre layer of dust veiled its interior, but other than that, the House of the Goddess had remained unscathed. The advisor scribbled a mental note to himself to apprise the King of this particularly odd phenomenon...

While the archbishop rambled on about last week’s events and how tragic and pointless the loss of life was and how it affected him so, Luran stood, composedly, beside a slender window, his countenance averted from the other elf, hands clasped neatly behind his back. He regarded the people below, mere specs from his vantage point. He detested travelling, especially for long periods of time... He preferred the comfort and safety of home, and couldn’t wait to return. Alas, there were pressing matters to attend to.

The conversation that ensued was tedious, and throughout the ordeal, Luran felt an aura of insincerity, dishonesty radiating off of the archbishop. His words of sorrow, grief and loss did not reflect in his eyes. His histrionic comportment, his charade, was rather impertinent, especially when taking all the dead denizens into account. The King had found in this elf a kindred spirit: neither cared about their subjects, both were corrupt, blinded by power, greed and wealth and would go to any extreme to procure it... Repulsive...

Many hours sidled past in this fashion, before they were interrupted by the archbishop’s guards. Half a dozen came marching in, following their captain. Two guards escorted a man, digging the fingers of their iron gauntlets into his upper arms. The captain, herself, held some sort of artifact or statue in her arms — Luran couldn’t quite determine its nature from where he was positioned, but clearly, it did not belong to the... trespasser... thief...

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ the archbishop demanded irritably, gesturing to the scene that was now unfolding before his very eyes.

‘Your Grace. Advisor. My sincere apologies for the intrusion, but we caught this thief red-handed, stealing. The idol of the Goddess was in his possession,’ the captain explained pragmatically, shooting the thief a nasty glare.

Luran’s sapphire blue eyes oscillated between the archbishop and the captain; the archbishop suddenly appeared rather... perturbed. It was remarkable how his people being massacred had a less emotionally detrimental effect on him than some law offender nicking a stone artifact. However, had the advisor been familiar with the power harnessed within the idol, he would’ve understood the apprehension. The deceptively simplistic artifact allowed anyone attuned to it, to enthrall the masses and keep them subservient, obedient, as meek as a flock of gullible lambs raised for slaughter.

‘This man shall be punished for his crimes,’ the archbishop said, hastily taking the idol from the captain. ‘Throw him in the dungeons!’

‘The dungeons were obliterated, Your Grace,’ the captain commented resolutely.

A sigh of exasperation brushed past the archbishop’s lips, which elicited a flinch from the captain. Back at the palace, Luran had witnessed similar reactions manifesting in the royal guards whenever they were met with the King’s displeasure. And while the archbishop embarked on a tirade, Luran contemplated how he could be of service. His gaze swept over to the thief, scrutinising him for the first time.

‘We could take him back with us, to the City — he can stand trial there,’ Luran eventually suggested, his euphonious voice calm and collected, yet his eyes were cold and trained, unblinking, on the miscreant. ‘I’m fairly certain they’ve got a cosy prison cell left to temporarily accommodate this malefactor, until his fate has been decided...’

#deaddoveadventures // curumë #luran sageshadow // all the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players #v.| dungeons and dragons verse I #ooc: I am so sorry for this misbehaviour; it's way too long asdfghjkl no need to match the length; I always prefer to set the scene so --#-- there are no ambiguities as to what happened; if this starter doesn't work let me know and I'll adjust it!#also feel free to decide whether or not curu knows about the artifact's magical abilities heh #this is dnd but like a homebrew asdfghjkl hope you're ok with that! we could definitely mesh their worlds together --#-- or write something else if you don't vibe with this!#on a sidenote: if curu ever wants to abduct luran pls do; he's been abducted in-game before (more than once) and I live for the drama

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hearts4hughes · 1 month ago

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tied up - rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: master manipulator!rafe ; mentions of violence ; sexual innuendos towards the end

a/n: the second i saw rafe tied up and sweaty in this episode, i KNEW i had to write about it. this is probably the first of many writings relating to this scene.

the ship rocks gently beneath you, creaking in time with the water lapping against its sides. you step carefully, feeling the weight of the metal plate in your hands, warm against your fingertips. the scent of food mixes with the salt air, thick and lingering, though you’re sure he won’t touch it. rafe sits a few feet away, hands bound to a pipe in front of him, his head drooped forward. he doesn’t look up as you approach, but you can feel his awareness.

you pause, just out of reach, and the light catches his profile—a bruise blooming darkly his eye, his lip split and red, dried blood marking his mouth like some careless stain from when jj knocked him out. he lifts his head slowly, almost deliberately, and his gaze finds yours. his eyes are sharp, narrowed, an intense blue like broken glass in sunlight, calculating and unreadable.

the plate feels heavier in your hands, like it’s suddenly full of something fragile. you set it down, the scrape of metal on wood cutting through the silence like a match. he doesn’t move, just watches you with that unblinking look, like he’s trying to measure how much of you he could break if his hands were free. the thought chills you, but you don’t step back.

“eat,” you say, trying to sound calm, detached, but your voice feels too loud in the confined space. his mouth twitches, a hint of something that might be a smile, but it’s too cold, too hollow. you can see the strain in his shoulders, the pure anger in the way he holds himself, but underneath it—something else. a flicker of vulnerability he’s trying hard to hide.

“so, they send you down to try to convince me to eat? think it would soften me up or something?” his voice is rough as it echos through the confined room. “i already told sarah that i’m not eating until they untie me.” he says with pure defiance. his eyes bore into you as if he’s trying to study you.

you turn your head, your gaze diverting to the dusty floor. “actually, no one sent me down here. they could give a shit if you starved or not. it would be doing everyone a favor.” you avoid his eyes, afraid that your confidence would melt if you met them.

for a second, you wonder if he’s about to say something, something meant only for you, and the realization tightens in your chest like a warning.

“then, why are you here?” he asks harshly. you look up to meet his haunted eyes, a chill runs down your spine and butterflies settle in your stomach. “what happened to never wanting to see me again, huh? what happened to ‘i love you forever’ ?”

his words command a flood of memories to rush through your head. your breathing becomes heavier as you remember it all; the lingering gazes, the sweet nothings, and finally, the way the absence in his eyes as he shot sherif peterkin.

“you know what happened, rafe,” you warn, your voice cracking slightly. he smirked, almost as if he could sense your anxiety. “you know why i left you.”

rafe’s smirk deepens, twisted and bitter, and he leans forward as much as the bindings allow him. “left me?” his voice is low, mocking, but there’s something raw in it too. “come on. we both know you didn’t leave me—you never really left me.”

the words cut through you, sharper than you expect, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. he watches you, waiting for a reaction, relishing it, and maybe even needing it. his gaze is relentless, pining you there like you were the one in restraints.

you force yourself to meet his eyes, even as every instinct screams to look away, to leave the room, and to escape. “i did, though. i left you because you weren’t the man i started dating. you were this,” you gesture to his bruises, his dried blood, and his hostility shimmering in his expression; the man who seems like a stranger and yet is all too familiar.

“you’ve always been mine.” he mutters more to himself than to you. “and i’m- i’m trying to change, y/n. i’ve been trying to change.” he says sternly, almost as if it was obvious, but it wasn’t. “y-you people don’t understand that i can change. i can change just as easily as you and sarah did when you started hanging around those goddamn pogues!” he raises his voice, jolting forward, and causing you to jump back.

when he notices you flinch, his gaze softens. he take a deep breath and sits back. you swallow harshly as he shifts from 0 to 100 in mere seconds.

“i’m just trying to change for the better; for you.” his voice is soft, not like what it was before. you can hear the sadness and the desperation dripping from his mouth.

it’s a trap. it’s all a trap. you’ve known rafe long enough to sense when he’s being manipulative, and he’s at his peak right now. you don’t respond, shaking your head, and going to grab the plate of food. as you grab the mental dish, his hands clasp around your wrist. the plate drops to the floor with a clatter.

“don’t- don’t go.” he whispers softly. his eyes search your face for even an ounce of reciprocated feelings. you bite the inside of your cheek as you ponder the possibilities. “stay here with me… please.” he isn’t speaking anymore, no, he’s begging.

your guard completely falls, leaving yourself vulnerable, and raw to his manipulations. when he senses the sudden shift, it’s as if he latches onto you, stringing his webs tighter around you.

you relax your shoulders with a sigh, not saying yes, but not leaving. he smiles and his eyes fall to your plump lips. his grip tightens around your wrist, fingers wrapping around your pulse. his breath is shallow and ragged, as if he’s afraid you’ll drift away.

your pulse quickens, a silent thrum that feels too loud, too obvious. his thumb moves softly, tracing small circles against your skin, a touch that’s barely there but enough to send a rush of warmth up your arm. you could pull away, break the moment before it goes any further, but you stay still.

rafe’s eyes drop to your lips, his jaw clenching as he takes a steadying breath. he’s drawing you closer, erasing the distance you swore to keep. “you don’t have to stay,” he murmurs, but his fingers tighten, betraying his words. “but… I don’t want you to leave.”

he inches closer, his face barely a breath away as his scent fills your senses. you can feel him hesitating, struggling against something, something that holds him back as much as it pulls him forward.

thousands of thoughts, warnings, and memories flash through your mind like blinding headlights, but they quiet under the intensity of his stare. then, he leans forward, closing the final sliver of space between you. his lips press softly against yours, and as if surrendering, you begin to kiss him back. the kiss begins gentle and sweet, but quickly turns into something desperate and fiery.

his tongue teases your mouth, slipping against your bottom lip. he’s frantic, raw, almost as if he’s afraid of losing you again, like he’s trying to make up for everything that happened. your lips slot against his like a puzzle piece.

you pull away breathlessly and stare at him. he lifts his arms that are bound by rope just enough for you to slip under them, now straddling his lap. you settle on his lap, something hard presses against your ass.

he smirks, “feel what you do to me, baby? i’ve missed you so much.”

the way he stares at you then and there tells you that you’ll be his forever. that there is no escape from him, even if you allow yourself to believe so. you’ll eternally be stuck in his web as he dances around you, only adding more silk to restrain you.

“calm down and untie me.” he says with a twisted grin. “let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

#love myself a little toxic rafe #nora’s writings 💐#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey

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fyrewalks · 2 years ago

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It's a bad idea, he thinks when he catches Hangman's eye across the Hard Deck and there's a sparkle of something more. It's a bad idea, he thinks when they're quiet in the backseat of the uber, neither wanting to ruin the anticipation with pointless small talk. It's a bad idea, he thinks when his fingers start on the buttons of Seresin's annoyingly tight button-up once safely inside his temporary accommodation - except then Seresin's, Jake's, tongue is down his throat, and really, Bob isn't thinking at all, anymore.

As he's lying there, sweaty and sated, half drowsing, Jake's arm across his belly like he simply forgot Bob's there and is too tired to adjust, it's easy to rationalize the gravity of the situation away. Tomorrow, they'll all scatter back to their postings as if the detachment never happened. He'll go back to the Eagles, Jake to the Vigilantes; they didn't cross paths before at Lemoore, and there's no reason for them to now.

Bob is no stranger to one-night stands, temporary bits of fun. He knows the routine, but when caught attempting to make a quiet exit the next morning, he can't muster up the usual excuses or goodbyes. What's he supposed to say - thanks for the fuck, see you never?

Except, as it turns out, whatever rational thinking he employed that night, wasn't all that thought out. Back with the Eagles, it's harder to avoid Hangman than he assumed. Bob dodges him in hangars, at bars and hangouts Nat dutifully drags him out to. He absolutely does not think about how Jake kisses, or moves, or the way he tastes. Absolutely not. And just when Bob thinks he's got a handle on the worst of his intrusive, betraying thoughts, the orders come - they're all being recalled to Top Gun for the official formation of the Dagger Squad in a month's time.

A week into tense briefings, all of them frustrated and annoyed by the endless paperwork and ground time, Bob thinks himself foolish to think he struggled at all in Lemoore. At least then, Hangman had given him a wide berth too. Now, often stuck in the same room for hours at a time, Hangman's usual taunts feel sharper. If anyone's caught on to how he's singled Bob out, no one voices their suspicions. At one point he worries Natasha's caught on to something, but when she raises her eyebrows at Bob, he mutters something about Hangman being Hangman and that seems to satisfy any curiosity.

And then, Bob has the misfortune of finding himself alone in the locker room after a few miles on the treadmill. If the way Hangman corners him is any indication, he'd guess it's purposeful. Bob very carefully keeps his eyes on the next set of lockers, just to the right of Hangman's face.

"What - miss an insult or two in the classroom," he snarks, surprising himself. Admittedly, it's a little easier when Natasha is in the cockpit with him. Bob takes a breath, his eyes flicking to Hangman's eyes, his lips. Bob refocuses his gaze. "Don't you think it's a little obvious?" If it's not curiosity, it'll be a joke - one that skirts too close to the truth. After all, navy pilots are known for their crude humor. Bob knows himself; he'll struggle to shrug it off. // @a1truist

#a1truist #a1truist ft hangman #ft. bob floyd #YOU ABSOLUTELY DO NOT NEED TO MATCH THIS LENGTH #whooo boy i just got to excited to set the scene lmao #pls don't feel obligated to match it #cause there's really only one set of dialogue #also was undecided if bob just came out of a shower or if he's still in sweaty work out clothes #both are fun lol #there's also no reason the daggers couldn't be based out of lemoore too #but i feel like it's more fun to have them at top gun #and it's fiction so we can do whatever we want #plus bob's probably gonna complain he wants to be back with the eagles with all of this happening #and he's gonna accidentally hurt someone feelings #so double the angst lmao #and now im wordy in the tags #i think it's time to drag myself to bed #godspeed if you read all of this lmao #but seriously ily v excited for this

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thedensworld · 1 month ago

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Gentle Daddy | C. Sc

Pairing: Scoups x reader

Genre: fluff, parent au

Summary: welcome aboard to the threenager stage of Seungcheol's son and how he parents him.

Seungcheol was seventeen when he met Chan, the youngest of their group. Was Chan a little brother? Yes. But at the start? Not quite. To Seungcheol, Chan was just another kid, someone he had to look after out of duty rather than choice.

As the oldest in their group, Seungcheol often became the subject of jokes about his strict ways. “Everyone, if you don’t wake up on three, I’ll give you 10 more laps of running,” Seungkwan teased, mimicking Seungcheol's commanding tone from their training days, complete with a mock-serious expression that drew laughter.

“Seungcheol hyung definitely needs someone gentle to balance that out,” Chan piped up with a cheeky grin. But before he could finish, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow and asked, “Balance what?”

Chan swallowed nervously, waving his hand dismissively as the others burst into laughter. “No, no, I was talking to myself,” he stammered.

But now, Seungcheol stood in a different scene, holding his three-year-old son, Wontae, on his arm during his birthday party. The house was filled with chatter and laughter, the kind only close friends could bring.

“Your interior is beautiful, Seungcheol. Come over and do mine next,” Jeonghan quipped, throwing a casual compliment with a hint of a request. Seungcheol rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“Appa did my room too!” Wontae beamed proudly at Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s features softened as he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Your appa is very talented, isn’t he?”

Seungcheol discovered his passion for interior design when he was searching online for the perfect nursery layout for Wontae. But nothing he found could match the vision in his mind. After discussing it with you, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Trips to the hardware store turned into projects that filled his weekends: crafting custom cabinets, building desks, and designing coffee tables.

In preparation for the party, Seungcheol went all out—rearranging furniture, painting walls, and adding small decorative touches that showcased his new hobby.

“It’s almost as good as Mingyu’s house,” Jeonghan said with a mischievous smirk. Seungcheol chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I think taking care of others did that to me. Just like how Mingyu took care of everything for us back in the day.”

“I want to get down,” Wontae said, squirming in his father’s arms. Seungcheol gently set him down, watching with a smile as his son darted over to Wonwoo, who was showing him a video game on his phone.

“He’s going to be three, wow!” Jeonghan remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. “It feels like just yesterday when I first held him.”

“How is it like?” Jeonghan asked, a rare tone of seriousness in his voice.

Seungcheol sighed, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Go get married and have one yourself,” he said playfully.

“Jeonghan’s getting married?” Your voice chimed in as you returned from putting Wonna, your four-month-old daughter, to sleep. Both Seungcheol and Jeonghan turned toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes softened as he reached for your waist, pulling you gently into his side.

“Is she asleep?” he asked, concern blending with affection. You nodded, resting a hand on his chest.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jeonghan interjected, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“I feel really bad that you’re going through all of this right after giving birth, just for his birthday party,” Jeonghan joked, glancing around at the well-decorated room. The party was being held the day after Seungcheol’s birthday, even though Wontae’s actual birthday was next week.

“I told you, it’s for Wontae!” Seungcheol insisted, his tone defensive but playful.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Jeonghan, I gave birth four months ago. Besides, I’m grateful that Joshua and Mingyu helped with the food prep.” You nodded toward Joshua and Mingyu, who were now joined by Jihoon in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes and joking with each other.

Suddenly, a tiny voice interrupted the grown-up conversation. “Look what Uncle Hoshi got me! It’s a matching tiger onesie for me and Wonna!” Wontae announced proudly, holding up the tiny outfit with wide eyes full of excitement.

Seungcheol’s eyes flicked to Hoshi, who was now rolling on the floor, laughing at Wontae’s reaction. The older man couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head.

You smiled and turned to Seungcheol. “I’ll go help him with his present,” you said, squeezing his arm before walking over to your son.

Jeonghan, still standing beside Seungcheol, gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “You know, it’s great you married Y/N. I never thought I’d see the day when the legendary Seungcheol, the training tyrant, would become the poster child for gentle parenting.”

Seungcheol scoffed, turning to Jeonghan with a mock glare. “A monster? Really? You’re one to talk,” he protested, crossing his arms but unable to suppress the grin threatening to break through.

Jeonghan just laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. Besides, we all know you wouldn’t be half as patient if it weren’t for her.”

Seungcheol glanced across the room where you were now helping Wontae into the tiger onesie, a soft smile crossing his face. The room buzzed with laughter and warmth, the chaos of their little family perfectly imperfect.

Seungcheol woke up a bit late this morning, the warm glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. A soft smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of his family already gathered at the dining table for breakfast. The sound of Wontae’s cheerful voice filled the room when he spotted his dad entering.

“Appa!” Wontae called out with excitement, his tiny hands waving eagerly. Seungcheol walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Wontae’s head before his eyes found Wonna, cradled in your arms, contentedly finishing her second bottle of the day.

“Wonna Wonna~ did you sleep well, my princess?” Seungcheol cooed, his heart melting at the sight of his daughter’s chubby cheeks. Wonna wriggled in your embrace, her eyes lighting up as she recognized her father’s voice.

“You had breakfast, love?” Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to you, his tone laced with concern. You shook your head with a soft smile. “I was waiting for you.”

He grinned, taking Wonna gently from your arms. “I’ll play with Wonna for a bit. Go have your breakfast.”

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtful gesture, and sat down to enjoy breakfast with Wontae. After some quality playtime with Wonna and tucking her back into her crib for a nap, Seungcheol returned to the dining room. By then, Wontae had retreated to his bedroom, engrossed in the toys his uncles had gifted him.

“Wontae loves Mingyu’s gift,” Seungcheol said with a chuckle, recalling how his son had immediately fallen in love with the plush corgi toy Mingyu had brought him. It was amusing how Wontae adored anything Mingyu gave, no matter what it was.

You laughed as you finished your meal. “Of course he does. He’s your son, after all. It makes sense he’d have a special bond with Mingyu.”

Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the sound warm and genuine. “Thanks, love,” he said when you placed a steaming bowl of rice and soup in front of him.

“Is your head still dizzy?” you asked, sitting beside him to keep him company while he ate.

He sighed, a touch of guilt crossing his features. “Not as much, but I really need to cut down on my drinking.” A rueful smile followed. “I still don’t get how you don’t drink at all—not even a beer.”

You smiled, amused by his amazement. “The last time I drank was before I got pregnant with Wontae,” you reminded him. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as the memory came rushing back—it had been at Joshua’s birthday party.

“Right!” he said, letting out a soft chuckle at the recollection.

Before he could say more, Wontae’s voice rang out, echoing through the hallway. “Eomma! Come here!” He came running into the dining room, eyes sparkling with excitement as he tugged at your hand, eager for you to join him in his room.

“How about we stay here and keep Appa company while he finishes eating?” you suggested gently, but Wontae shook his head, determination written all over his little face.

“No! I want to show you my drawing!” he insisted, practically bouncing on his feet. “Uncle Chan gave me crayons, and there are so many colors! Even five different blues!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Seungcheol, your heart swelling at Wontae’s joy. “Alright, let’s see your masterpiece,” you said, getting up and giving Seungcheol a reassuring smile before following your son.

Five minutes later, you returned to the dining room, barely suppressing your laughter. Seungcheol had just finished eating and looked up, curiosity piqued by your expression.

“You should see what he’s done in there,” you said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did he do this time?”

“You need to see it for yourself,” you urged, playfully nudging him in the direction of Wontae’s room. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

With a grin, Seungcheol pushed back his chair, eager to see what kind of adventure awaited him in his son’s room.

Seungcheol opened Wontae's room and was greeted by the sight of his son enthusiastically coloring in his new book, using the crayons Chan had gifted him. The vibrant hues danced across the pages, a mix of scribbles and childlike shapes. Wontae’s eyes lit up when he noticed his father standing at the door. He bounded over, grabbing Seungcheol’s hand and pulling him toward his little art corner.

“Look, Appa! I drew a rock!” Wontae exclaimed, pride beaming from his small face.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed Wontae’s pointing finger until they landed on the wall. Oh my god. There, on the freshly painted surface, was a child’s drawing—a colorful depiction of what was presumably a rock, sketched in bold crayon strokes.

He froze, processing the situation. So this was why you had insisted he see it for himself. He could practically hear the smile in your voice when you said it.

“You drew on the wall?” he asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Wontae nodded innocently. “But Eomma said it’s better to draw on the coloring book, so now I draw here. But sometimes it gets boring, Appa!”

Seungcheol felt a wave of relief wash over him. So you caught him and told him to stop. Thank god.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to quell the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Remember, Seungcheol, they don’t know better. They don’t understand how much work it is to paint a wall.

“Yes, your eomma is right. Drawing on your coloring book is best.” He sat down on the floor beside Wontae, the urge to scold replaced by the desire to guide. “Show me more of your drawings here.”

Wontae beamed at the invitation, plopping down next to his father and eagerly flipping through the pages of his coloring book. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son’s eyes sparkle with excitement, oblivious to any worry or consequence.

Every time Seungcheol’s eyes strayed to the drawing on the wall, a chuckle escaped his lips. It was ridiculous! He wanted to be mad, really mad, but he just couldn’t muster it. “You know you shouldn’t draw on the wall, right?” he asked his son, carefully suppressing the instinct to say, “I just painted that! Why did you draw on it?!” in a booming voice that would only frighten the boy. He took a deep breath, holding back the frustration that threatened to spill out.

Wontae looked up at his father’s face, his eyes wide with curiosity as he noticed something unusual. “Why is your face red, Appa?” he asked, putting down his crayon and reaching up with his tiny hands to cup Seungcheol’s flushed cheeks. Seungcheol let out another soft chuckle, his anger melting further.

“You know Appa loves this house, right?” Seungcheol said, his tone remaining gentle and warm.

Wontae nodded, his little head bobbing earnestly.

“No one in this house draws on the walls because Appa worked hard to keep them nice and clean,” Seungcheol explained, still smiling softly despite the chaos inside him.

Wontae bit his lip, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. “Are you mad at me for drawing on the wall?” His voice trembled as he spoke, and Seungcheol’s heart lurched. Panic surged through him—he was the one who felt like crying, not his son!

“I didn’t say I’m mad at you,” Seungcheol said quickly.

“But your face says it…” Wontae mumbled, the quiver in his voice growing more pronounced.

Oh no. Shit.

“Eommaaaa!” Wontae suddenly burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes darted to the doorway where you were standing, suppressing a smile as you scooped up your tearful son into your arms.

“Why? What happened?” you asked Wontae in a whisper, stroking his back to soothe him.

“Your father wasn’t mad at you, was he?” you asked softly, glancing over at Seungcheol with a knowing smile. “Did he shout at you?” Wontae shook his head, hiccupping as he clung to your shoulder.

“No,” Wontae admitted, his sobs quieting as you continued to comfort him.

“He was just talking to you,” you reassured him, casting Seungcheol a gentle, supportive look.

Seungcheol groaned internally, a mix of confusion and self-reproach. He thought he’d nailed it—the gentle parenting that you both had worked so hard to practice. Yet here was his son, still able to sense the tension in his expression, and hurt by it despite the lack of yelling or scolding.

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “We’re on this stage now,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “What stage?”

“The threenager stage,” Seungcheol said, his tone carrying both exasperation and amusement. “I read about it somewhere. It’s when kids start acting like teenagers—rebelling, pushing boundaries, testing their parents’ patience. Wontae’s only three, but he already knows how to push all my buttons.”

You laughed softly, shifting Wontae in your arms as his sniffles subsided. “It’s not rebellion, Seungcheol. It’s curiosity. He’s learning, exploring his emotions, and figuring out how far he can go.”

“Exploring his emotions by drawing on my freshly painted wall?” Seungcheol deadpanned, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t truly upset anymore—not when Wontae was looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Exactly,” you teased, setting Wontae back down on the floor. “It’s frustrating, but it’s normal. And you handled it really well, by the way.”

Seungcheol tilted his head, raising a skeptical brow. “I did?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, giving him an encouraging smile. “You didn’t yell or scare him. You explained things calmly. That’s the kind of parenting that sticks with them, Seungcheol. He’ll remember this.”

Seungcheol glanced at Wontae, who had returned to his coloring book but kept sneaking shy glances at his father. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, mingled with pride and relief. I can do this, he thought. Even when it’s tough, I can do this.

“Okay, buddy,” Seungcheol said, crouching down to Wontae’s level. “Let’s make a deal. No more drawing on the walls, okay? If you want to draw something big, we’ll find some paper or maybe a special board just for you. How does that sound?”

Wontae’s face lit up at the idea. “A special board? Really?”

“Really,” Seungcheol promised, ruffling his son’s hair. “But only if you promise no more wall art.”

“I promise, Appa!” Wontae beamed, holding up his pinky. Seungcheol chuckled and locked his pinky with his son’s, sealing the deal.

You watched the exchange with a fond smile, stepping closer to place a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “See? You’re doing great.”

Seungcheol exhaled deeply, his smile widening. “Thanks, love. I guess I just need to remember to breathe. And to hide all the crayons.”

You both laughed softly, and for a moment, the chaos felt a little more manageable.

"One… Two… Three…" Seungcheol’s voice was steady as he counted while Chan, drenched in sweat, gritted his teeth to finish his push-up set. His arms trembled, and his face was etched with exhaustion, but he pushed through, determined to complete the punishment.

The door to the practice room swung open, and the rest of the group filed in, their faces a mix of confusion and amusement as they took in the scene. Seungcheol stood towering over Chan, arms crossed, while the youngest member struggled through the exercise. It was a far cry from what anyone had expected when they read Seungcheol's early-morning text asking Chan to come to the practice room an hour ahead of schedule.

"What’s going on here?" Joshua asked, barely hiding his amusement as he watched Chan squirm on the floor.

"Ten!" Seungcheol finished his count, clapping his hands in exaggerated applause. He smirked as Chan collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent. "That’s ten sets done—one hundred push-ups. Congratulations, Chan. That’s what you get for giving my son those crayons."

Chan’s pout was instant. "It’s not fair! It’s your son who drew on the wall. Why am I the one getting punished?" His voice was full of indignation, though it lacked the energy to be truly effective.

Mingyu burst into laughter, doubling over as realization dawned. "Wait, wait—Wontae drew all over the wall with the crayons Chan gave him? That’s hilarious!" He clutched his sides, nearly toppling over from laughing so hard.

Jeonghan, leaning casually against the doorframe, nodded in mock agreement. "Honestly, it makes sense. Seungcheol’s a gentle appa with Wontae—there’s no way he’d punish his precious son for something like this." He shot Chan a teasing grin. "But you? Yeah, I’d do the same if I were Seungcheol."

Chan groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "This is so unfair!" he whined, his voice muffled. "I’m the innocent one here! Gentle appa is a fraud—he’s evil!"

Seungcheol couldn’t hold back his chuckle as he crouched down to look at Chan. "Gentle appa does exist," he said with a smirk, "but only for Wontae. You and your crayons? You’re a different story."

"See?" Jeonghan said, straightening up. "I told you. Seungcheol’s priorities are clear."

Chan sat up, still sulking. "Unfair. So unfair." He shot a glance at the others, hoping for sympathy, but all he got were amused grins and stifled laughter.

"Hey," Joshua added, chuckling softly, "at least now you know not to mess with Wontae’s creative genius—or his dad’s freshly painted walls."

Mingyu clapped Chan on the back, nearly knocking him over again. "Think of it as a lesson in self-sacrifice. You helped foster Wontae’s artistic side. That’s a win, right?"

Chan groaned louder, flopping onto the floor in defeat, while Seungcheol leaned against the wall with a triumphant grin. "Alright, everyone. Lesson’s over. Let’s get to practice before he starts crying for real."

"So unfair!"

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hana-no-seiiki · 6 months ago

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YANDERE HUSBAND x GN CELEBRITY!READER

— based off of a dream i had of a childhood friend/crush. hiatus not over tho lol.

— morally bankrupt reader. clingy husband. the usual yandere stuff.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who was your childhood best friend. Your parents shipped you two since you could speak.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who had a crush on you since forever. He doesn’t even remember a time where he didn’t get butterflies and an aching need to be the only one close to you

YANDERE! HUSBAND who’s the biggest flirt. He knows you the best. Although you were completely oblivious. He’d always try to be around you, compliment you, tease you.

He’d give you matching keychains, and would beg his parents to buy whatever gift he’d think you’d like.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who sadly had to move away for a while. He comes back during high school. And the first thing he asks while he’s there? To be put in the same class as you.

Now that you two are older, you finally started to notice how much of a tease he was. Always grappling unto a piece of your attention.

You acquiesce and begin to date him. Not necessarily feeling anything for the guy but thought it was high time that you finally settle down. It was the perfect storyline you could share once your ambitions were fulfilled.

That and cause your parents would only let you go to acting school if he married you.

Which you two eventually did before college. Was it rushed? Definitely. Did you even love the guy? Nuh uh. But you had places you had your sights set on. And he was the only path.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who drops out to be your full time househubby. His parents could always give him a job at their corporation anyways. There was no real pressure for him to study and get a job.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who almost always supports your acting career. Watching all your shows, movies, and interviews. Basically buying out all the merch you featured in. And paying advertisers across the globe to have your face plastered everywhere.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who unfortunately stops you from having any romantic or sexual scenes. Essentially blocking you from any roles that could be your breakthrough just cause it could have a tiny kiss or so.

Your anger at his blatant attempt to have control over you began simmering. Ever so slowly reaching the surface. Not improving at all when you found out he’d been trying out a job that his mother gave him.

Fuck the gifts. Fuck the yachts and cars he’d swarm you with. Why did he get to do what he wanted and you didn’t?

So you follow him to work once, only to catch him in a compromising position with a coworker.

You didn’t care about him or his business beneath the sheets really. So you had to thank the gods above that you knew exactly what and how to do the following act.

Cry. Scream. Throw things at them.

The coworker already left. Shuffling as they tried to hide from your anger.

Your husband is unresponsive. Catatonic. Even more of an excuse to hurt him.

You call him filthy, uncaring, the worst man to ever exist. Hell, even some of your true feelings come out as you yelled about how you regretted ever being with him.

You find out later from his mom that he had been framed. That this coworker was just trying to get money out of the heir.

Still, you wanted out. He had already served his purpose and you needed to expand your horizons.

A week later of radio silence from him as you prepared the divorce papers he walks in.

Covered in red his hands caressed your face,

“You called me filthy did you not? So I cleansed myself with their blood.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #yandere husband #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere headcannons #yandere hcs #yanderes #yandere x darling #darlingcore #yanderecore

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jasperxkuromi · 6 months ago

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Play ideas for chronically ill, disabled, or otherwise bed bound/low energy littles

Hi all! I am chronically ill. I am not comfortable sharing my specific diagnosis, but I am more than okay with talking about disability in general. Everything below is based on my own personal experiences and activities I like to do while stuck in bed. Everyone's body and experiences are different. I may list some things that just aren't an option for you, and that's okay. You are more than welcome to add on to this post with activities you do too!

🐛 Open the curtains and cloud watch! I like to look for clouds that remind me of animals or characters and day dream a story about them. If the weather is nice, consider opening your window a little bit and letting some fresh air into your room.

🐦 Bird watch! I have a bird feeder outside my window that I painted myself from a kid's kit. There are also bird feeders that have suction cups that can be stuck right on your window. You can also make your own seed ornaments. You could pick yourself up a kids book or two on learning to identify birds.

🌷 Get a window planter. You may need someone's help to set one up, but once they are in place they are fairly easy to care for. I like pansies and marigolds because they remind me of childhood, and they are low maintenance and do well in containers.

📖 Audiobooks are great for middles who want to read chapter books. If you have a library card you can borrow tons of audiobook, ebooks, and comics through hoopla and Libby for free. There are some audiobooks for younger kiddo books, but honestly I think YouTube is better for that.

🖼️ Scrapbooks and journals! Being penpals with another little is also an option, but I do recommend using basic internet safety and common sense. (I don't think you should do this if you are under 18). You could always scan/take pictures of your letter and send it digitally to your penpal instead.

🛏️ If you spend a lot of time in bed, and have the money to do so, I really recommend getting items to make your time in bed more comfortable. Extra pillows, or even a reading pillow can be helpful. Lap desks or bed tables can give you space to color or set up play scenes with small toys.

🌟 You can also decorate the area around your bed to make it more child like! Fairy lights, glow in the dark stars, bed canopies, posters, and the like.

🪑 I have a floor chair I use for times I am playing outside of my bed. Being close to the floor helps me feel small, but not having back support hurts after a short while. I have an adjustable one that I can lay flat on the floor as a sleeping mat. Very helpful for the times when I need a quick nap after playtime.

🎨 Check the seasonal and kids sections at dollar stores and Five Below. I usually find fun craft kits that can keep me occupied for a bit for really cheap.

🧶 Do your own crafts! I like the knit and crochet. Some people can do them in bed, but I find it difficult to find a comfortable way to do that. However making friendship bracelets in bed works out pretty well. They make great gifts, even for non little friends. Or you could make matching ones for you and your CG or favorite plushie!

🪀 Make your own sensory bin! You can find tons of tutorials and ideas online. Bonus is you can get most of the items you would use at the dollar store. There are tons of other DIY sensory toys you can make as well if you look around. Glitter/shaker bottles are pretty popular too.

🐇 Cuddle with your stuffed animals. Tell them stories. Play pretend. Read to them. They will appreciate all of it.

🎮 If you have an old 3DS stuffed away in a drawer somewhere, pull it back out. 3DS are fairly easy to install homebrew and there are toooons of kiddo friendly games you could get (check 3ds.hacks.guide for this, do not follow tutorials on YouTube or random websites as they very well could be outdated)

💊 Decorate your medicine organizers with stickers. If you use mobility aids you can decorate them as well! Fake flowers are great for decorating mobility aids and there are tons of ideas you can find online.

🍼 I have stomach problems that makes it hard for me to eat enough. I often drink Ensure to make sure I am getting enough calories/nutrients. I get the strawberry flavor and sometimes put it in my sippy cup and pretend it is strawberry milk 😋

😴 If you need rest, rest! You deserve to get as much sleep as your body needs. Babies and toddlers take naps all the time! Trying to just exist with chronic health issues is difficult enough. You don't need to push yourself.

#age regression #age regressor #agere #sfw agere #age dreamer #agere blog #agere community #age dreaming #chronic illness #chronically ill #disability #disabled #sfw interaction only #sfw regression #sfw little community #sfw littlespace #agere little #safe agere

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jarofstyles · 2 months ago

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Cabernet

This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.1k

Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements

-------

Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated.

Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts.

“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company.

Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased.

“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her.

It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.

Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous.

Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy.

“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead.

Again, cute.

“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”

“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out.

“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap.

“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?”

“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.

“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.”

“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”

“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”

There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.

He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.

Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship.

“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.”

“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.

“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward.

“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?”

Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day.

Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap.

“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”

——-

Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night.

She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim. “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too? Fill you from both ends."

“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?

“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."

The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.

"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.

As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.

She had done it.

“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.

"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."

“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.

"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."

It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.

He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”

Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”

Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him.

“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting, but she wanted to hear it.

"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."

Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”

"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”

“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”

"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.

"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.

Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.

As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.

His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.

"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.

His restraint shattered at her words. "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."

With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.

With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”

“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”

“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.”

Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.

“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return.

“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.”

“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy.

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles age gap #dilfrry #Merlot #soft Harry

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choochooboss · 1 month ago

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Sketch dump! Vol. 5

September 2022 (Part 1/2)

The first piece on top summarised my cosplay rush for Tracon 2022! The second is an old idea for a charm.

"SURPRISE!!"

Back in 2022 I hosted an art raffle for reaching 777 followers on Twitter! The winner would get their submas themed idea realised (which was their friends throwing a surprise party for the twins!). I wanted to make a little comic and have the bosses walk in their office where depot agents, Elesa, Drayden, Skyla, Clay etc. would be waiting with decorations and treats and games.

Emmet is all smiles of course while Ingo gets so emotional he could only whisper a "super bravo".

Not really headcanons anymore but still funny ideas.

1. Emmet gets clumsy when off-rhythm! He starts walking in curves if there is nobody else around to match his rhythm with.

2. Emmet spaces out/forgets to say things aloud when someone speaks too long or when things go off-script! His thinking gets interrupted easily.

3. Ingo sometimes bumps into doors because he is too used to automatic doors!

4. When things go off-script Ingo speaks too much and rushes in straight lines"

Also my little inexpensive sketchbook & my trusty tools! Mechanical pencil and eraser pen are life when scribbling my skrimblos smaller than a postage stamp!

More Ingo~ I utilise a wide range of sources for references, including CSP's poseable 3D models, they can come really handy with perspectives and proportions!

The second piece is my very first attempt at cosplay in Tracon 2022: Blingo! I walked in with a sequin hat, leather jacket, leather pants and high heel patent leather boots.

The hardest part of cosplaying Ingo is remembering NOT to smile ahaha!

Some hairstyle tests

I drew these for a huge submas art collaboration over Twitter hosted by @/mimizukeii!! It was technically my first art collab before I started arranging them myself with Aggie/Magma.

While looking for train related songs I found this cute nursery rhyme to go with the marching:

"Over the mountains,

Over the plains,

Over the rivers,

Here come the trains.

Carrying passengers,

Carrying mail,

Bringing their precious loads In without fail"

I wanted to compare these silly twins, planning to do something more silly with them later. Also a sketch of @/fukurow's butler designs I never finished.. The capes compliment them so well, I love them!!

Prequel to this piece! Emmet is so confident in himself he thinks Pierce wants to learn from him but is invited for a duet on the stage instead!!

Emmet has really great voice actors in Pokemas! I especially love how his english VA gives him that bri'ish/posh/sophisticated vibe while also soft and melodic! I know for SURE this VA/Emmet can sing, I can show you later!

One of my favourite sketches!! I wanted to add a bunch of characters in the BG reacting to this sonic blast of emotion over a performance!

Heyyy it's the smile buddies comic!! I really hope Ingo gets to interact with Marnie in Pokemas one day!!

I feel Ingo's eyes in the mirror panel is a little off in the final comic, I meant to keep it softer like in the sketch!

It's Nimbasa trio!! Idea inspired by submas EX uniform colors. Might continue this later!

Some BG tests for this piece! Compositing is hard but absolutely worth the effort, it can make a huge difference in the appeal of your piece!!

Practise piece drawing over a photo I thought was cool! I want to get more experimental with lighting and perspective!

'How's it hanging bro?' Who hung him up there anyway??

Sketch for this arguing scene! Something REALLY BAD needs to happen for them to end up that tense! Even if I want to present them close to the canon material I still want to put them in really challenging situations to see how far I can push their emotions!

Thank you so much for coming all the way down here!! This set was pretty loaded, I hope you enjoyed scrolling through all this ahah!

Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 4: July 2022 Part 2

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ajortga · 5 months ago

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affection deprived

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

authors note: i do not like this but hopefully you do, please send more requests

word count: 1.5k+

based off this request!

where r asks emma to hold jenna's hand to see if she notices and the second emma held jennas hand she immediately knew it wasnt r's hand

-🥝

It was another filming day. You come in at least 4 times a week, rather if it’s to run a scene over, hair and makeup, a chemistry read or checking on costumes.

As you get on set, you grab a coffee (that always manages to go untouched and goes cold) while playing a thumb war with your best friend, Emma Myers.

“Do they have strawberries today?” You ask while having your tongue slightly stuck out in concentration. “I don’t know where they get them from, but they’re always so perfectly sweet.”

Emma giggles, trapping your thumb as you squeal. “Gotcha! 1..2.. I think they do, I saw watermelons too if I remember correctly. 3… 4..”

You giggle, huffing when she wins the match. “At least those will make my day. Hey, your hands are so soft.” You begin playing with her hands, admiring how squishy they are.

“Thanks, babycakes,” the blonde jokes, holding your hand as you both swing back and forth while walking through set.

If anything, holding hands makes you think of Jenna. You haven’t been cuddly with her at the moment. You think it’s because she’s so caught up in work and how you always seem to hold her hand, that she doesn’t notice when you’re not. It’s like everywhere you go she automatically thinks her hands are intertwined with your warm ones.

“Hey, Emma. I wanted to ask you something,” you say, glancing into the distance as you see your girlfriend unaware of your presence far away, talking to one of the directors.

“What is it? You need me to help you with something?”

You nod, tearing your eyes away from the ones that weren’t looking at you to the ones that were. “You think you could help me out in trying to cast some spell on Jenna to make her realize that I miss her touches?”

“Oh yes.” The blonde says, making a small ‘pshhhh’ sound as she takes out her invisible wand. “Jenna Marie Ortega, I command you to snap out of your acting character and recognize your girlfriend’s needs!” She says, swaying up and down.

Your eyes roll, watching her be silly and take the opportunity to snap a photo. “Uh huh. I don’t know.. Okay. Jenna and I used to do this thing where I’d sneak under the table and cling onto her hand. It’s just been something that we’ve done ever since.”

In your relationship, you were the sucker for the people who knew you inside and out. Jenna was just that person. She’d rub your knuckles gently in a circle with her thumb whenever you grew nervous, always came home from her other film projects with something you’d like.

Obviously she still does, you’ve just been feeling like you’ve had the lack of affection. “Which makes you grumpy,” Emma would say. You would sulk before filming a scene and Jenna would’ve noticed if hadn’t a distraction popped up. It was almost like you could see the small puzzles in her head would begin to turn then be interrupted.

“So.. How is me holding your girlfriend’s hand going to do anything?”

“Hopefully it makes her notice how AFFECTION DEPRIVED I AM!” You almost yell. If she really thought Emma’s hand was really yours, you think you’d break up with her. (You would never be the one to break up first.)

It was Friday night. Some would say it was the night to party all night long.

They were true.

Almost every Friday the Wednesday cast would gather at someone’s house, preferably Georgie’s because he had a trampoline and some dope snacks. You didn’t want to admit that when you and Jenna first saw how many good snacks he had, you slammed them into your bag. Jenna brought an extra tote bag smashed under the things in her backpack to push all the snacks in there the next time you went to Georgie’s house.

You stare down at your hand, chatter filling the room as everyone talks while eating. You wonder if it’s any special. You’re not sure why it matters so much to you. It's just like every other hand, right?

No one knows you better than Jenna, maybe you should just be straightforward with her and the lack of affection you’ve been feeling lately.

“Ems?” You holler, looking around. You find her on the couch across from your girlfriend, in a deep conversation with each other.

And when Jenna turns to you with those sweet brown eyes, you feel like the happy giddy feeling in your chest. The feeling that lingered when you had a silly, puppy loved crush on the girl for the first time. You were a bundle of nerves, squeaking whenever you talked to her, cheeks flushing easily.

And she was yours. Except that feeling just popped up again. Your eyes dart the room, opening your mouth to say something, then shutting it. Instead, you give an awkward wave and run out.

Jenna gave you a smile, eyebrows furrowing as she watched you dash out.

“I think my baby is scared of me.”

Emma rolls her eyes, looking at you go, “An affection deprived baby.”

“Okay Agent Double Two x Five thousand and Sixty Two, it’s time.” You whisper, you and the blonde eyeing the target in front of you.

Like two partners in crime.

“Roger that.”

Emma crawls under the table and you almost break your facade, a silly smile threatening to plaster on your lips as you see her bump her head on accident. You can see Jenna, talking to Hunter as she brings her drink to her lips.

You look away, looking down at Emma’s current journey.

As she keeps talking, Emma counts the hands to be able to reach the right one. She approaches the brunette, where her hands are against her lap, and lightly taps it. A stupid grin forms on your face when you see your girlfriend’s face contort into confusion.

Jenna processes what’s going on as her hands roam around. She lightly catches the hand and feels it. Assuming it was you, she intertwined her hand with yours.

It doesn’t take 10 seconds before she feels like something is out of place. The hand is soft, but it’s too soft. Yours is just the perfect amount of soft. She rubs her thumb over the person’s knuckles and the pattern isn’t familiar.

She immediately tugs her hand away and looks under the table to see a goofy Emma Myers looking back.

“Emma? What the hell are you doing under there?”

“I was actually looking for my ball that I dropped.” Emma backs herself up, shoving her hand into her pocket and bringing up a neon green ball with a smiley face. “Oh wow! It was here all along! Thanks!”

The blonde crawls out as the other girl blinks and watches her walk off. Something about realizing it wasn’t you made Jenna feel disappointed. She hasn’t held your hand whenever you nudged it while walking down the streets together. She’d brush it off thinking that you did it by accident.

The events of the endless hours of filming caught up to her, she had been neglecting you with her lack of affection. All the signs were in front of her, yet she didn’t notice.

She excuses herself and looks around for you, peeking her head into the living room to see you scrolling through your phone.

“Hey, cutie. I missed you.” The brunette says softly, catching your attention as she squeezes next to you. You don’t respond, making grabby arms. She almost feels how twitchy you are as you cling onto her, her fingers thread through your hair, hoping she can make you feel a little better.

Your hands touch something soft and you feel hers nudging into yours. The perfect amount of softness. She didn’t realize how much she missed your touch until you’re curled up to her like a koala.

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting your affection needs. I just feel like filming messes with my surroundings. I would never do it on purpose, okay?”

God you missed her. You missed her cuddles. You missed her hugs. You missed-

“Y/N.”

“You swear?”

“I’ll swear on.. I don’t know!”

She wraps her arms around you tightly, lifting you up on her lap as she presses her lips to your cheek. "I want you to tell me whenever you feel this way, okay? I can’t survive knowing that I let you feel a certain way you don’t like and I don’t even notice.”

“Okay. I will, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think that I’m too affectionate.”

“Never.”

A small grin comes upon your lips, “Now can you teach me how to distinguish people’s hands?”

For the rest of the night, Jenna lets her scent comfort you, your hand laced in hers for almost the rest of the party. When you see Emma, you give her a goofy smile and a thumbs up. She grins and does a two finger salute.

Let’s just say that all the days after, you were woken up with kisses and hugs, and definitely a bit too spoiled on set with a showered affectionate girlfriend. She even tied your shoes. Maybe it was too much, but you didn’t want anything less. Too much made you feel like the happiest girl in the world.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #jenna ortega imagines #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader

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babbymochiiii · 4 months ago

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⊹₊ ⋆ᯓ★ street racer mark lee

❤︎ ໋𓈒 street racer!mark x afab!reader; you can ride me...or you can ride with me.

ʚ warnings: not proof read, ngl i'm pretty lazy with the smut here...so bare with me cause i was losing the creative juice for it 💀, some boob loving, oral/fingering (f), p in v, unprotected sex (pls...use a condom), mark is drunk on pussy 🤷🏽, creampie x2, possessive mark, dub con, backseat sex, johnny being an asshole of not respecting your space, screaming match between mark and reader, and lots of curse words being thrown around one another. won't lie the second smut scene might make some of my readers uncomfortable due to the content it has and how mark just handles the situation, so i will be putting a little warning sign between the dialogue so if you wish to skip it you can, i don't think you need to have full context of what happens as i feel like the dialogue that comes after explains itself.

ʚ to hear that songs that lowkey had some inspiration to this fic, here is the link to the spotify playlist i made; click here for street racer! mark playlist!

ʚ author’s note: yes this is me adding more about street racer mark from my first ever post here…but with a bit more fun >:) enjoy! originally, i did want to get this out before mark’s b-day, but my bf was in town from school and we’ll all writing plans went out the window and i had to take advantage of my time with him 😩🫶🏼 other than that note, i have been writing here and there for this post as much as i could or really come up with on the spot cause my brain is in a little :P mood for a while now so… ✨motivation is fast and furious ✨

ʚ word count: 7.4k words

❤︎ ໋𓈒 if you haven't read the past parts to this series, here is the series m.list!

street racer!mark who loves the adrenaline rush he gets every time he races.

street racer! mark who is honestly pretty cold and straight forward with people but is a honestly a golden retriever with his tight circle. (He’s a Doberman basically)

street racer! mark from the first moment he saw you, he knew you were his.

street racer! mark who was ready to bash his opponents head into his steering wheel for even looking at you the way he did when you were set up as their flag girl (though he knew he couldn’t but that wouldn’t stop him)

street racer! mark who honestly catches johnny off guard when he acts all sweet and nice to you after you helped start the race he just finished (and won)

street racer! mark who realized he lowkey made a fool of himself when he asked you to be his sugar mama, but couldn’t help but feel his soul sore when he heard you laugh at his rambling

street racer! mark who knew the moment that you agreed to hanging out with him after his two races, you were meant to be his

street racer! mark who honestly cornered your friend into a corner and convinced her to give him your number after not seeing you for a month (he’s quite convincing without doing much)

street racer! mark who feels like a hormonal teenage boy feeling extremely nervous when texting you due to the fact that he wasn’t sure how your relationship with him stood

street racer! mark who the moments he sends the first text he throws his phone onto his bed before shoving his face between his hands because he knows that you have him whipped after one interaction

street racer! mark who jumps at the sound of his phone signaling that he had a new text message, and with a racing heart, grabs his phone and instantly felt his face heat up in ecstasy and a small laugh of embarrassment for not explaining that it was him in the first place when you asked who was texting you

street racer! mark who invites you out to the races tonight, shooting a blank bullet knowing it was hit or miss if you came out tonight or not; but to his delight you ended up saying yes causing him to jump up and let out a “HELL YEAH!” in the process while gaining a weird look from haechan as he walked passed his door

street racer! mark who watches your interaction with johnny from afar, his jaw set as he tries not to storm over. but the moment he sees johnny reach towards your hair and pull it out of the make-shift low bun you had something within him set ablaze and he started to make his way towards you.

“y/n! there you are!” he called out as he was close enough to be in your ear shot. “mark, hey!” you said as you turned and looked at him with a wide smile. “so I was thinking, do you possibly want to get in the car with me for my next race?” he asked you as he looked at you with a look that he knew you couldn’t refuse his offer. you have a look of hesitance. “i mean is that allowed? like dude, I’m not trying to break any rules that says I’m not supposed to do this so like—“ you rambled as you looked between mark and johnny for reassurance (it bothered him you looked at johnny with that look on your face and not just him…) “nah bro, you good. besides it’s sort of really freaking rare if someone sat in the passenger seat with the driver unless that person is on their team.” he made sure to reassure you as he placed his arm around your shoulders and bringing you to his side. you looked up at mark and gave him a wide smile of excitement, that to him, makes your eyes sparkle with said emotion. “then, yeah I’ll go ride with you.”

street racer! mark who can’t stop laughing at the way you scream his name out as he speeds down the roads. several squeals leave your lips as you also laughed out as he could tell was your adrenaline causing you to react in that way.

street racer! mark who can’t help but feel the pride swell in his chest as you cheer him on for winning the race.

street racer! mark who can’t help but hold in his laugh knowing that he caught you off guard with his slight flirt comment.

“all thanks to you.” “dude, you’re flirting.” you said as mark watched your jaw drop slightly in shock. with the small silence that falls between the two of you, makes you both laugh out over the moment.

street racer! mark who doesn’t think twice about leaning in (nor did he care) as he watched you lean in as well with hooded eyes.

street racer!mark who was ready to end johnny’s life as he knew he purposely slammed the car’s hood and squeezed in between the two of you for conversation.

street racer! mark who was trying his best to keep his cool in front of you as he continued the conversation.

“you should’ve heard how she was screaming at the top of her lungs.” mark said as he laughs about your reaction. “yeah i bet she was pretty loud.” johnny said with a cocky smirk while looking down at you.

street racer! mark who was picturing 1,000 ways of his killing his so called friend after the comment he made, but of course that didn’t stop for either of their slip up in front of you as they glared at one another with a knowing look.

street racer! mark who despite the fact he said goodbye to you with glee, he turned around back towards johnny, who he too was turning towards mark, losing the smile on his face as an intense silence falls before them.

"what are you getting at Suh?" mark said getting straight to the point. "don't know what you mean, Lee." johnny said with a smirk as the situation wasn't obvious. "you know i'm going after her." mark said as he felt his anger starting to take over him. johnny scoffs. "it's not like you laid a claim on her just yet mark. she's free game."

street racer! mark who knew with the way johnny smiled at him meant nothing good, and knew that if he wanted you to be his and only his, he had to find ways (and he always found a way)

street racer! mark who coincidentally bumped into you on college campus and somehow convinced you to hang out with him outside of the car meet (anything to get the upper hand)

street racer! mark who couldn't stop staring at you when he took you to a diner that is a couple miles out of town; you were scared of course, but mark reassured you that everything was going to be okay with him beside you (and dude has a gun with him so really yall are fine-)

street racer! mark who somehow convinced you to go with him to a tattoo/piercing shop with him.

"you're getting your eyebrow pierced?" you asked with an intrigued tone lacing around your question. "yeah, i mean, why not? been wanting to get one honestly." mark said as he gave you a quick glance as he continued to drive down the road towards the shop. "i think you'll look good with it." you said softly as you felt yourself blush at the thought of mark having an eyebrow piercing. suddenly, the thought was more than just innocent thought. mark is a very good looking man, you couldn't deny it as you felt yourself attracted, but for some reason the thought of mark having an eyebrow piercing....it makes you squeeze your thighs together. you tried to be discreet about it, as said man you're fantasizing about it right next to you.

street racer! mark who doesn't miss the way you clench your thighs together as you continue savoring the thought of mark having an eyebrow piercing. his free hand runs along the bottom of his bottom lip as a smirk stretches on his face at the thought of you getting turned on. the hand on steering wheel tightens slightly at the thought of you in such a way for him to the point that his knuckles turn white, before he let's go of his grip to calm himself down as you both have arrived to the shop.

"ready?" you asked mark as you both walked towards the front door of said shop. "ready than never, baby." mark said lowly in such a sultry tone, that it visible made chills run down your spine and for a slight blush dust on your face and neck, as you tried to look away from him, but he could read your body language by now and it only made him chuckle to himself.

street racer! mark who sits down on the chair the body piercer has in their room as they prep everything for the procedure.

when mark look's toward you he swears you're more nervous for him that he is for himself. "you okay, baby?" he asked as he couldn't help but smirk at you, but still took hold of your hand in his in a gentle hold. "y-yeah, just...you know. it's a big needle." you mumbled as you look down to where his thumb was rubbing gentle circles on your knuckles to distract you from your own nerves. "i'll be okay, don't worry too much for me baby." mark said as he gave you a small squeeze of reassurance.

street racer! mark who couldn’t help but feel his ego swell due to the fact that you couldn’t stop looking at him with his new piercing.

“you okay baby?” mark asked as he gave you a quick glance in the car before looking back towards the road. “huh? oh— uh yeah, i’m fine!” you squeaked out embarrassed as you looked at your hands resting at your lap. your nails are looking really interesting right now. mark smirked at your reaction before he continued to drive to your dorm complex.

street racer! mark who makes sure that everyone knows that you are his. does not give a flying fuck honestly at how people react when you’re with him, he knows has to stop it and doesn’t care how he’s gotta get them to shut up. but of course, there is johnny…who doesn’t know what isn’t yours, you shouldn’t touch.

street racer! mark who is fed up with johnny’s bs of blatantly flirting with you in front of him. to which he takes measures into his own hand and asks you out on an official date with him tomorrow night.

“on—on a date?” you asked him as he saw the way your face and neck started to flush in a delicate red shade. “yes, thought i’d make it official.” mark said as he leaned in slightly and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “i— yeah i would love to.” you mumbled softly to him as he let his hand linger softly on your cheek, causing you to flush deeper. “great i’ll pick you up, baby.” mark said as he placed a quick, tender kiss on your forehead. when mark stood straight, he looked behind you and saw the way johnny was sending him glares towards him, that mark couldn’t help but smirk at him before he took your hand and brought you to his car.

street racer! mark who goes all out for your first date with him. he was honestly a nervous wreck, but was pulling though seeing how brightly you were smiling at him, and just how your eyes caught the light just right...it made his heart go into overdrive at the sight before him.

street racer! mark who is such a gentleman throughout the whole date that you honestly can't help but make the first move on him when he dropped you off at your dorm room's door.

"i had a good night tonight." you said softly as you looked up towards mark with a small smile on your face and with a knowing blush resting on your face. "i'm glad you enjoyed it baby. anything for you." mark said as he looked down at you with a boyish smile playing on his face. something about the way mark looked in front of you had you in a daze. his black hair in a messy slicked back hairstyle with some strands of hair falling in his face. the classic leather black jacket he wore, this time with a white shirt underneath the jacket, black belt wrapped around blue jeans, as he wore black boots with his whole outfit. your mouth was honestly watering at the sight in front of you. "do you want to go on a da—" mark started but was cut off with the feeling of you taking hold of his shirt in your hand and pulling him down to your level. "—date?" "shut up and kiss me mark." you commanded softly as you eyed the way he licked his lips. without saying a word, mark leaned in and delivered one hell of a bruising kiss. nothing about the kiss was delicate like he was treating you all night. the kiss was straight passion that was breaking through the restraints that held around mark as all he's been wanting to do was devour you whole. there was some teeth clash, but neither of you cared as all you both wanted was to get closer to the other as you tried to fight for dominance in the kiss. you instantly gave up in trying to win for dominance when mark's tongue grazed along yours, causing you to whimper in the kiss as you felt yourself melting at the taste and feeling of him.

street racer! mark who was trying to be a complete and utter gentleman when it came to wanting to take things further with you, but didn't want to push things further if you weren't willing to push at the boundaries as well.

"baby." mark mumbled in the kiss before pulling himself apart, as much to both of yours protest. "i don't want to do anything you don't want to do." mark said as he felt your hands wrap themselves around his neck and find the length of his hair and pull at it, causing for a groan to escape his lips. mark felt himself twitch in his jeans as tugged again at his roots, causing him to bite his bottom lip and look down at you. "mark please...i need you" you muttered your plea as you looked up at him with such doe eyes and a small pout that mark knew that he was completely at your mercy.

street racer! mark who the moment you opened your door and walked inside, he had you pinned against the closed door.

"are you sure you want to do this?" mark said as he looked down at you where you were caged between his arms. "yes." you breathlessly moaned out as you arched your back where your chest grazed his, just to show him how willing you are. "fuck..." mark mumbled before he placed his had at the back of your neck and pulled you into another throb-inducing-kiss. clothes started to come off between the two of you as you walked towards your bed, where mark wanted everything to be comfortable, mostly for you. you were only left in your underwear as you laid so pretty under the dim lighting of your bedroom. mark swore under his breath as he watched the way your chest rises and falls in quick breathes. his eyes travel over the expense of your exposed skin. it didn't take long for mark to find himself between your thighs. he captured your lips into a gentle kiss, completely different from before. inviting as the kiss was, it quickly turned harsh and hot when you bit mark's bottom lip. mark led his kisses down your neck in open mouth kisses, leaving blossoming bruises on the juncture that was between your neck and shoulder. as mark's lips traveled down your sternum, you started to release more breathy moans as the ticklish sensations over your flushed skin. mark took hold of your plumped breasts into each of his hand and gave them a slight squeeze, earning a delicious moan from you. encouraged, he takes one of your hard nipples into his mouth and suck on them lightly while tracing the tip of his tongue over it. you started to mumble curses as mark began to stimulate your neglected nipple between his pointer finger and thumb. he pulled on the nipple as he simultaneously bit down softly and tug on the nipple in his mouth causing for you to arch your back off of your bed and moan out loudly. with a lewd pop, mark started to kiss down your navel leaving slight nips in his path. once he reached down your clothed cunt, he started to place small, quick pecks where your clit lays. seeing the way you reacted. without wanting to wait to devour you any longer, mark rips your underwear in half with a rasped promise; "i'll buy you a new one baby, don't worry." was the last you heard before a moan rips through you as he placed a hard press of his tongue between your wet folds. mark starts to eat you out in a rhythm-ed pace that his tongue and fingers followed as they went inside of you, curling the front of the digits against your gummy walls. as mark continued, he felt you clench around his fingers and tongue. with one last push and curl, he had you arching your back off of your bed with a loud moan as you came. mark helped you ride out your orgasm with slow thrusts of his fingers. as you came calmed down from the intensity of the orgasm, you failed to notice mark pulling down his pants freeing his hard, aching length from it's death trap. mark gave himself a few pumps before he leaned above you. he lined himself up to your gaping entrance, but wanted to distract you due to the fact he feels like he didn't stretch you out enough with his fingers.

mark placed his lips on yours in a searing kiss, that made you fully pull your focus into the kiss. as he continued to kiss you, mark pushed himself into your first ring of resistance. you whimpered at the sensation of the stretch, while mark moaned at how tight you felt around him. mark slowly pumped himself in and out, slowly, resting the waters a bit to see how you would react to his movements. as mark started to pick up his pace, you both completely lose yourselves to the sensation you were feeling. mark was completely weak in the knees as he felt the way your gummy walls milked him with each stroke. not realizing how lost he was in the feeling, mark speed up to such a delicious pace it had you rolling your eyes back and curling your toes. you could hear mark mumbling incoherent sentences, but you were able to catch some of the words that slipped out of his mouth; “so fucking tight.”; “she’s sucking me in so good— fuck.” ; “that’s it baby, take me just like that…”;“listen to her, she’s fucking talking to me.” with each sentence that you could catch beyond your moans and his grunts, caused you to clench around him uncontrollably, that only causes mark to keep losing the little resolve he had left. "baby, if you keep clenching me like that...i'm not going to last long." mark said as he felt himself just continuing his brutal pace that had him grazing against your cervix in such a delicious way, that you swore you would give this man whatever he wanted if it meant that he could keep making you feel the way you do right now. "mark, please...please i'm so close! i—" you choked out a moan as he started to go in such a much faster pace than he was before (that was surprising you in all honestly) that your legs were practically on his shoulders at this point for the way he kept leaning against you to kiss between the valley of your breasts, along the juncture of your neck and jaw. you could feel the long, burning tell-tale of your orgasm fast approaching, especially if mark kept up with the fast pace that his hips where sending against yours. making your entire body jump up against his thrusts. "fuck, baby you're so beautiful taking me the way you are and how you're looking at me." mark grunted out as he whipped a strand of hair that was clinging to your sweaty forehead. "so beautiful — shit — and all mine." mark said, and in that moment it was as if something officially snapped within his mind because if he was going fast now, he was going in faster (that you swore wasn't humanly possible but he was proving you wrong.) "say it." he said as his hand went down your navel, and pressed his thumb down hard onto your throbbing clit, causing you to arch your back at the sensation mixing in with his ruthless thrusts. "say it for me baby, please i need to hear it." mark moaned out, that sounded like an a whimper by the end. you knew then and there that he was close to his orgasm as much as you are as he wanted that one finally push and his hips started to stutter. "m-mark, i'm all yours!" you squealed out as mark started to rub his fingers in a messy side-to-side matter against your clit that without warning you came loud and hard. mark swore he was in heaven the moment he felt you clench his cock in such a vice grip that it was almost impossible to continue thrusting himself into you. but along with you, mark groaned as he let out his load inside of you (not really thinking of the consequences it could bring of course.) mark rode out his orgasm, while helping you through yours.

street racer! mark who watches you with such tender expression that it hurts his heart knowing how quickly you came into his world and took him off of the course he was on. (he's in love with you)

street racer! mark who slowly removes himself from inside of you with a groan, before quietly leaving your side to go to your bathroom to grab a soft towel to clean you up with.

you felt something gently graze over your sensitive entrance that caused you to let out a small whimper at the sensation. "hey...sorry i don't mean to hurt you baby. just trying to clean you up so we can go shower and sleep for the night." mark said gently as he lifted himself up and started to place sweet, gentle kisses on your face as he watched you slowly lift up your hooded eyelids that were heavy with sleep. "okay..." you said softly as you gave mark a small smile. you and mark looked at one another with such tenderness that you honestly felt like you were gonna go into some sort of cardiac arrest at the way your heart was beating out of it's normal pace. "hi." you said shyly as you didn't know what to say to him. mark chuckled as he saw the shy blush carry itself across your face and chest. "hi, baby." he said softly as he placed a kiss onto your forehead. "come on, lemme help you into the shower." he said as he placed his arms around your neck and the back of your knees.

street racer! mark who was absolutely incredible at aftercare that honestly made you want to cry due to the fact he paid such attention on your needs, that you just felt so loved.

street racer! mark who after your shower, gives you a shirt he found in your closet and brings you to bed. makes sure you drink your water, and that you get all the cuddles in as you both get some much needed sleep.

street racer! mark who hasn't seen you in a while due to you become busy with schoolwork as it became one of the busiest week of the school year.

street racer! mark who is excited when he steps out of his car in front of your school campus as he goes to the other side of his car to lean against it, to surprise you with a pick up ride from him, when the smile he had on his face falls as he sees you walking out with some guy at your side.

street racer! mark who can see the way you're smiling at him and tilted your head back in laughter, by the way your shoulders shook up and down, from what he said. whatever he could've said, couldn't be that funny.

street racer! mark who watches the way your eyes lit up at the exact moment that you looked forward again, that he couldn't help but feel reassured in himself when you left with a quick goodbye to the guy behind you and made a full sprint towards mark.

"mark!" you squealed out in happiness as you opened your arms open as you jumped into mark's waiting arms for you. mark spun the two of you around quickly as he held you in a tight hug that he wasn't quite ready to let go of you. "hey baby." he greeted you before he placed a kiss onto your lips. "what are you doing here?" you said as you looked up at him with such an infectious smile that he couldn't help the way his smile grew wider. "wanted to surprise you baby." he said as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "ooh! a surprise, are we going somewhere?" you asked as you bit your bottom lip in excitement. "you could say something like that." mark teased you as he opened your door for you.

street racer! mark who lowkey disassociates as he drives on your way to your shared dorm room. he couldn't help but think about what he saw when he picked you up. something possessive paced within his chest, that honestly was slightly unsettling to him but he couldn't help but let the feeling grow and manifest inside of him.

street racer! mark who takes a detour from the original route that he usually takes to your place. he tried not to pay attention to the look you gave him from his peripheral vision.

⚠️CAN SKIP SCENE IF YOU WISH⚠️

"mark? why are we going this way?" you questioned quietly as you looked around the trees that were starting to surround you and the car. you were met with silence as you looked at the far out expression on his face. the silence felt so loud for you as you waited for mark to react to your question. as you opened your mouth to say something, mark suddenly breaks his car in the middle of the off-the-beaten road. silence once again takes over the two of you, creating a suffocating atmosphere in the car. you were about to speak up, but mark beat you to it. "surprise." he said in a mono toned voice. you felt a shiver run up your spine at the way he spoke to you. you've never heard him use this tone to you nor around you. it felt like a completely different person beside you. "surprise?" you questioned, afraid to add more to your question not knowing how his response is. "this is the surprise i have for you baby." mark said in a tone that was too overly sweet and it was starting to make you feel uneasy. "mark..." "who was that guy baby?" mark asked you as he tilted his head to the side, trying to seem innocent and curious. you studied mark's expression as much as you can as you tried to find some slip up on his end. seeing that he was being consistent with the front he is having, you sighed. "he's in a class of mine." mark hummed out as he looked past your shoulder with a small nod. "a guy from your class..." he mumbled out, still having that far out look on his face. when mark looked back at you, the look in his eyes almost made you flinch if he didn't reach over to you grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you forward. "why were you all smiles with him? don't you know you're mine? i don't get it." mark said as he looked down briefly before looking back at you. "why were you smiling at him?" he asked as he pouted at you. you honestly felt like you were gonna get whiplash. "i was being polite?" you questioned yourself at this point cause you didn't know how to approach it. mark just stared at you as the grip on the back of your neck tightened slightly as he adjusted his fingers. he reaches over with his free hand and grabs hold of you face, squishing your cheeks together to create an embarrassing pout on your lips. "get in the back seat." mark said with a side gesture of his head. you looked towards the small section of mark's car that he called his backseat. you didn't know what to make head or tail of. one part of you wanted to go cry about this cause you weren't sure where to put your emotions in, but the other part of you...she couldn't help but feel turned on by the situation you were in with mark. the way he let his possessive side show in such a raw way, made something primal rise within you. seeing that you weren't moving fast enough for him, mark repeated his command. "get in the back seat, baby." with a small gulp of uncertainty and of anticipation, you started to head towards the backseat. once situated in the backseat, you couldn't help but feel the tension rise as you saw the way mark was looking at you. a predator looking at it's prey. mark looked at you with such a predatory look in his eyes, pupils completely darken over with lust, it made you shudder and clamp your thighs together. he soon hoped over to the back seat with you and without missing a beat, he took hold of your ankle and yanked you down the seat to where he was above of you. a gasp leaves your lips as you looked up towards mark with wide eyes. without saying anything to you, mark takes holds of your hips and turns you around; ass up and face down. “mark can we please talk properly!?” you cried out as you tried to push his hands away from your hips as they tried to hook around the waist band of your skirt. "shh s'okay baby, i'm going to make you forget completely about your classmate." "mark! please..." you moaned out as you started to feel him play with your sensitive nub. "we're talking baby." mark said as he preoccupied himself with taking his half harden length out of the confines of his jeans.

“this isn’t how it’s supposed to be mark!” you cried out as you felt him push your panties to the side and start to rub himself against your slightly glistening folds. "i'd say this talk to going the way it's supposed to baby." was all he said as he continued to rub himself against your folds to the point where it was fully hard and dying to get inside of you. "besides you want me just as much as i want you. can't you feel how wet you are for me baby?" mark questions as he starts to tease your entrance with his swollen tip. you were completely torn. you didn't know what to do considering mark was not going to have an actual conversation regarding the situation the two of you are in. he just wanted to fuck this whole argument out of your system to get it over with and it just isn't supposed to be like that...you know this. but why was he making you feel so good about it. mentally you knew this whole ordeal was wrong but...physically you wanted him. you wanted to cry as you felt such intense and confused emotions, you just didn't know what to place what to what anymore. you truly couldn't find your voice in this situation, and it frustrated you to no end that you felt tears starting to sting your eyes. "please mark..." you whimpered out as you felt yourself starting to dissociate. "fuck baby, anything for you." mark said as he started to insert his length inside of you. as mark fully inserted himself inside of you he let out a pleasured moan, while you let out a whimpered cry. nothing that was happening to you felt real. absolutely nothing. mark continued pleasuring himself and you were completely disconnected. you weren't even sure if you actually came or you just faked it so it could be all over with. all you knew is that mark came inside of you, pulled out and covered you once again with your panties. letting his come ooze out of you and fall onto your panties, creating an uncomfortable feeling. "you're so good for me baby." mark whispered into your ear as he pushed your hair behind your ear and placed a chaste kiss on your temple. tears fell from your eyes as utter disgust consumed your entire being.

street racer! mark who has been noticing things have been rocky between the two of you since he picked you up from your class two weeks ago. but still has high hopes for the two of you as he sees that you are still reaching out to him in the best way you can.

street racer! mark who brings you to the car meets after the two weeks of rocky tension, to which he is completely happy and his "normal self" around you while he goes and does his races. and completely misses the way johnny watches your every move so he can have a chance to talk to you.

you were standing off to the side of the crowd in your own world as you waited for mark to finish his set races today. you were in your own world for so long, that you didn't notice that johnny has approached you until he waves his hand in your face. "oh..." you said softly as you blinked your eyes before looking up at johnny with a awkward smile. "hi, johnny." "hey sweetheart, you alright? i'm seeing you all alone and wanted to see how you're doing?" johnny says as he looked at you with a concerned look on his face. "oh i'm fine. just a bit tired from school and all." you said softly trying to shrug johnny off of you. "and mark's got you out here late? he should've just let you rest at your apartment." johnny said as he frowned his eyebrows. "yeah he wanted me to stay home and get some rest but i wanted to come out and support him since i know he has quite of few races set out for him tonight." you lied through your teeth as you gave johnny a smile. "you know..." johnny trials off as he rubs his hand on his chin before his gaze turned up on you. "...if you were my girl this wouldn't be happening to you." "excuse me?" you questioned as you felt a scoff leaves your lips as you looked at him in disbelief of what he just said to you. "i could be a better boyfriend than mark can be to you sweetheart." he said a he went to go and graze his hand on your face. you gently swatted johnny's hand away from your face before it made contact. "mark's not my boyfriend johnny." "oh really? he never made it official. this whole time i thought he has for the way he acts around you." johnny says as he rolls his eyes at the mere thought that mark has been with you for two months and hasn't grown the balls to make it official with you yet. "well...i'm not rushing him for making it official, johnny." you said as you took a step so you could create a space between yourself and johnny. "why are you even waiting when he's clearly comfortable in the position you guys are in." johnny says as he takes a step towards you, closing the space between the two of you. you rolled your eyes at him as you took a step backwards still trying to keep a good distant between him. not liking the fact that you keep distancing yourself from him, johnny takes hold of your wrist. "i could be a better boyfriend than him, angel." he whispers into your ear. "let me go!"

street racer! mark who finishes the first half of his races and looks for you the moment he parked his car. as he looked for you amongst the crowd, finally landed his eyes onto your figure. but what he saw was making him see red.

street racer! mark who sees the way you and johnny are both cozy against the other, as johnny holds you close to his form. even though he fails to see the obvious discomfort on your face, mark comes up with 1 to 1 million ways that this is you moving on from him and he just couldn't have it that way what's so ever.

street racer! mark who races towards the two of you. pushes johnny off of you and taking hold of your wrist in his hand and dragging you behind him to his car. damn the rest of the races he had planned out for the rest of the night...he wanted to deal with you.

"mark! slow down!" you cried out behind him as you stumbled on your steps as he was moving too fast for you to catch up to him. you were met with silence from him as he continued to drag you behind him. the only response you got from him was the hold on your wrist tightening to the point where it started to pinch your skin in between his fingers. the sensation causes you to wince. mark slightly faltered at the sound of your pained grunt, but continued pushing through the crowd towards his car. one you both made it to his car, mark opened the passenger's door and pushed you inside before he slammed the door shut. this causes you to flinch at the sound and the sudden jerked motion the car had due to the force of the car door slamming shut in your face. you honestly didn't know what was going to happen to you right now. you've never seen mark this mad before. yes...there was the instance with your classmate but this...this was a different mark. this wasn't the mark that you got to know. mark got into his side of the car with slam of his car door as well. without saying anything to you, he starts the car and has the car moving faster before you could get something into the tense air between the two of you. "mark—" "why do you do this!?" mark yells out as he starts to speed down the dirt road that leads out of the car meet. "do what mark!? what did i do?" you cried out as you felt tears sting the corner of your eyes as you felt yourself get frustrated as you knew where this was going to go now. "why the fuck were you so close to johnny? of all fucking people, him! you know how he makes me feel!" mark yells out as he slams one hand on the steering wheel. "mark...johnny was trying his usual shit on me yes! i was trying to get out of the situation but he wasn't letting me!" you said as tears started to fall down your face. "i don't fucking believe you." mark said with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. you felt your heart sink at the declaration he made about you. "are—" you cut yourself off as you felt a laugh bubble in your throat, letting yourself know that you are starting to fall into some sort of shock. "—are you fucking serious right now mark lee? do you FUCKING HEAR YOURSELF!?" you screamed out as more tears started to fall down your face in pure blistering anger. "i wouldn't be surprised if you've thrown yourself at him. i've seen the way you look at that motherfucker." mark says as he presses down on the gas peddle causing the car to jerk faster down the road. you looked towards the car's speedometer and was met with '100 mph' in bold, bright lettering. "mark slow down." you said as you stared at the speedometer and towards the outside of your window to see the dark sky and trees in a complete blur of speed. "mark slow down!" you cried out again. "just SHUT UP!" mark screamed out as he looked towards you with such intense anger in his eyes that you swore this man hates you from the way he is just treating you. you opened your mouth to say something but the next thing that you remember hearing was the sound of shattering glass and a gasp leave your lips, before your world goes completely black.

street racer! mark who groggily wakes up to intense bright lighting in his eyes, and he thinks that he simply left the lights on of his room again, until he starts to hear the slow beeping sounds around him.

street racer! mark who fully opens his eyes and takes in his surrounding to see that he is laying in a hospital bed, and his right arm is in a cast and a sling. he starts to wonder what happened, but all he can remember was the argument in the car with you and then everything went blank from there.

street racer! mark who gasps finally realizing that you were in the accident too and started to feel himself panic seeing that you weren't near him nor in the same room as him.

"you're finally awake." mark heard a voice say at the foot of his bed. mark looked towards the standing figure of his bed and recognized your best friend. he noticed the blood shot and puffy eyes she adored and couldn't help but assume the worst. "is she...is she—" "she's fine and thankfully very much alive, no thanks to you." she snaps as she gave him a look of pure disgust. mark rolls his eyes at her tone, but continues the conversation as if she never even spoke. "i want to go see her." he said as he tried to sit up but winces due to the sharp pain at his side. "you have bruised ribs, so i would lay down if i were you." she muttered as she sent daggers towards mark. "besides, i'm not letting you seeing her." she said as she crossed her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow towards him as if daring him to challenge her. "the fuck? i can see her if i want. you don't get a say in that!" mark said as he started to feel his anger get the best of him. "you are the reason she is in a hospital bed right now! you are the reason she has a fucking coma!" your best friend yelled out as she pointed an accusing finger towards him as she tried to hold back the tears that are stinging her eyes due to the pure anger she was feeling. "a c-coma?" mark said as he looked at her with wide eyes. "yeah, a coma. the doctors don't know when she will wake up...the chances are low."

street racer! mark who felt his entire self being shatter at the thought of you not remembering anything that has happened.

"a coma..." mark muttered to himself as he felt himself start to zone out due to the shock the news brought him.

ʚ a/n: to be completely honest with you, i wasn't really expecting to take it this way but i honestly like how it turned out because it adds a bit of drama to this fic and truly shows the persona i created for mark in this au. just wanted yall to go through what the reader goes through in seeing his true persona! lemme know your thoughts!!

⭑𓂃taglist: @hyuckshinee @yesohhsehun @sfsrm-blog @rockstarhaechan

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