#when it was one thing i was dealing with it was fine...

[prettydaisygirl]

boyfriend!James Potter x fem!reader who thinks he's cheating ✿ 1.8k words

cw: fem reader, reader thinks James is cheating (he isn't), James is a professional athlete and kind of a himbo, reader is jealous/a bit possessive of James, Sirius and Remus back reader up, angst with a happy ending

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

James Potter. Your beautiful, wonderful, oh so sweet boyfriend. He is the best man in the world. Except he has one flaw. 

He is way, way too trusting. 

You believe it’s because of his heart, too big for his body. He carries his emotions like a badge of honor, wanting to be good and see the good in others. And because of this, your boyfriend can be a little naive. 

“Jamie, I just don’t think it’s a good idea-“ You’re trying to reason with him, but as lovely as James is, he is also stubborn. 

“I just don’t see why you are making such a big deal out of this, angel.” James is wiping down plates, setting them aside for the team dinner tonight. “Olivia is a part of the team, she asked if she could come!” “She’s not a part of the team, she’s your social media manager.” You argue, rolling your eyes, but James doesn’t let up.

“She told me she thinks you have something against her.” You stop for a moment at James’ words, placing the towel you just finished folding aside. You raise your eyebrows at your boyfriend.

“And her words are so much more important than mine?” 

James seems to know he struck the wrong cord when his shoulders sink a bit. “That’s not what I said. But you did ignore her the entire dinner last week.”

“I told you when you came home from that meet in Florida, James. She was all over you, I watched it on tv.” You hate the way you sound, you know James doesn’t see Olivia’s actions the way you do. 

“You haven’t really met her, my love. I promise once you do, you’ll see that she is just our social media manager, and she wants us to look good so we get more sponsors!” James makes his way in front of you where you sit on the couch, kneeling down to meet your level. “Just give her a chance.”

You really rather wouldn’t. You’d rather James listen to you when you tell him about your concerns. But you know tomorrow’s meet is important to your boyfriend, so you decide to swallow your pride and nod.

“Fine.”

You regret agreeing almost immediately. 

Your house swarms with tall, athletic men. You don’t know when your home became the pre-meet dinner spot, but you don’t mind. You find great pride in helping James and his team do well. 

Olivia shows up after the rest of the team has arrived. When you open the door, her grin falters for a second before she reaches out a hand to greet you, squeezing too tight. She eyes you up and down and you decide to attach yourself to James for the evening. 

You latch yourself onto his side, arm around his waist. His own settles around your shoulders and for most of the dinner you can keep the green jealousy monster at bay. Especially when surrounded by his teammates, laughing and joking at the dinner table.

The best part about James’ team is that the others have seemingly adopted you. Remus and Sirius especially, given their lifelong friendship with your boyfriend. You’re always with them, and you consider them very close friends.

You’re chatting with Remus about his new favorite novel when you realize James has been in the bathroom for a long time. Remus sees the moment he loses your attention, your brow furrowing as your eyes scan over the room, looking for James in the small crowd of his teammates. He isn’t there.

“Are you looking for James?” Remus asks, eyes darting around, and your expression changes, mouth pursing a bit.

“And she’s gone too…” You whisper, under your breath but loud enough for Remus to hear. He seems to put the pieces together right as you stalk off toward the staircase.

Your heart pounds as you make your way upstairs, toward the bathroom. You feel your head spin when the door is open and the light is off. 

Things get worse when you hear James’ voice. You can’t make out what he’s saying but it comes from the bedroom. You step closer, and the next words you are able to make out definitely come from Olivia’s mouth. 

“Why does she even need to know?” The words sound sultry, spoken slow and sweet in a way that makes every hair on your body raise up.

The door is cracked open just enough for you to see the two of them. She is sitting on your bed, her perfectly manicured hand wrapped tightly around your boyfriend’s wrist. You can’t see James’ face and you’re glad for it.

“Olivia-“ His warm, rich tone reaches your ears but you’re gone before you can hear anything else. You try to flee silently down the hall, down the stairs, and past the team. You’re two feet away from the door when Sirius steps into your path and you bump into him.

“Hey-“ He starts to greet you with a smile but it drops the moment he sees your face. You don’t know what you look like. Frantic, maybe? Are you flushed? Crying? You aren’t sure, all you feel is the need to get out of here. “Woah, are you alright?”

“I just-“ You take a heavy breath and move to step around him. You can definitely feel tears pooling in your eyes now and you shake your head. “I have to go.”

The last thing you see before the door shuts behind you is Remus approaching Sirius with a questioning look on his face, looking toward the door where you left. 

You walk for a while, nervous to go too far. You turn off your phone, just wanting some space and to be left alone for a while. You stay in familiar areas, especially given how the sun has fully set now. Eventually you reach the park near your house and take a seat on a bench. 

Your mind races. You didn’t see or hear anything that explicitly suggested your boyfriend was considering having an affair with the team’s social media manager. But her voice, the way she was holding his wrist. It’s obvious that’s what she was asking him. 

There are two different possibilities here. You couldn’t see James’ face, only his back and the way he stood in front of her. Either he was going along with it, or he wasn’t.

You know James. James loves you, and he is not a man who is afraid of showing it. He’s always getting you flowers and little gifts, leaving you small love notes. Before he leaves for every practice he gives you an extra long kiss to your lips, then your forehead, and he whispers, “I love you, angel.” You know James.

So, why hadn’t he pulled away from her? 

It was that thought that kept you on the bench. You sit there longer than you should. Any other night, any other circumstance, if you were out this late and James couldn’t reach you, you know he’d be worried sick. Your legs are stiff and your lower back aches when you finally stand. The walk back to your house is miserable, your soul heavy with anticipation. You don’t know what you will do if this somehow ends with you losing James. 

The lights are still on when you approach the house. The only car left in the driveway is James’ so you know all of his teammates have gone home. That means Olivia is gone too. 

Your feet drag as you move up the steps to the front door. You know it’s unlocked but you get your key out and move to unlock it anyway, just to delay this for just a moment. Every second is heavy with possibility, your heart aching. 

The door creaks open and you step inside. James sits up on the living room couch and the two of you lock eyes immediately. The first thing you notice is that his eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, they probably ache as much as yours do. You hate the thought that he has been crying here by himself. 

James stands, and he’s in front of you before you can blink. He gathers you into his arms like you’re something precious and you feel the warm heat of his breath on your neck as he exhales shakily. You wrap your arms around him too, grasping gently at the fabric of his shirt.

“Angel,” He breathes into your skin, and you find your eyes closing. His scent is warm, familiar and comforting. For a moment, just a moment, you let yourself go, focusing only on how wonderful it is to be in his arms. 

His voice pulls you out of it, rough and scratchy from crying. “I’m sorry I really didn’t think-“

You open your eyes to blink up at him when he pulls back. This is the worst conversation the two of you have ever had and it hasn’t even really started yet. You hate fighting with him. 

“Jamie-“ You start to say something. To tell him that you just need him to tell you he loves you. But you don’t get the chance, he’s already speaking.

“No, listen. I’m so sorry, I should have listened to you,” The look on his face breaks your heart, and when his eyes turn glassy, you can’t help but find your own burning again. “I thought she was just being nice, that she wanted to do a project for the team. I didn’t- when she said ‘we’, I didn’t think she meant her and I, I thought she meant the team, you know?” 

“Jamie-“ Your quiet, shaky voice barely breaks through his rambling explanation. His hands move to cup your face. 

“Sirius and Remus already chewed me out, and I know I messed up.” He says, his voice cracking a bit. His expression is raw and a tear slips down his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words are barely out of your mouth when he kisses you. You don’t know if it is the intensity of the situation or the buildup of emotions but you find your knees weak and your grip on him tightening. 

“Jamie-“ You whisper against his lips, a silent plea.

“We fired her.” He whispers back, lips disconnecting from yours as he leans back just enough to look in your eyes. “As soon as I realized what she was asking me, I shut her down.”

“I know.” You tell him. And you do. You know James loves you, and you believe him when he tells you nothing happened with Olivia. “I shouldn’t have… run off. I just needed some time to think. And now you have your meet tomorrow and-“

“Don’t worry about me. I just need you.” James brushes his lips against your forehead before placing another lingering kiss to your lips.

“I love you, angel.” 

“I love you too, Jamie.” 

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[dillydally6969]

PLEASER .ᐟ 𝓢HAUNA SHIPMAN

♱ though you were the antler queen, shauna seemed oddly comfortable bossing you around

♱ cw; slight!nsfw under the cut, harsh language, f!r, boyfriend!shauna, natstoryline!r, shauna would’ve been nicer if they just let my girl lezz out :/

“loser says ‘what’.” mari hissed in her ear in passing.

shauna’s head snapped back, but before she could spit back, you were quick to pounce to your feet. “knock it off, mar!”

the butcher brushed past you, charging at mari.

tackling the raven-haired girl to the ground, shauna held mari’s arm against her back. she held up the bandaged fist, leaning down to whisper through the struggle, “say one more fucking word, and it’ll be your whole fucking arm.”

“jesus--!” you barked, surging to split the two writhing on the ground. “enough already!”

tai and melissa lunged to grab shauna by her arms. you held mari, shoving her behind you. you caught the snarl on the brunette’s face, holding up a hand, gesturing for her to calm down. “what the fuck, shipman?”

“your pet is being a bitch. maybe you should string that leash a little tighter.” she spat through a clenched jaw.

“did you just call me a pet--?”

“okay, enough!” you stepped to place yourself just in the centre, between the two of them. “you guys want me to play the warden? fine. starting tomorrow, both of you are on house arrest. i don’t want to see either of you out of your huts and anywhere near each other. did i make myself clear?”

shauna jerked out of her guards’ grasp, rolling her eyes.

you raised your eyebrows, hands on your hips. eyeing between them when you got no response. “am i clear?” you repeated.

mari nodded, exhaling shakily. god, was she relieved.

if it weren’t for you, she was sure she would’ve been in store as next winter’s rations by now.

as you watched mari stroll off, you drew shauna’s gaze.

the butcher stepped towards you, her rough hand latching unto your arm harshly. her lips brushing against the helix of your ear as she growled, “hut. now.”

you let her drag you off to her hut, indifferent to the looks of question a couple pair of eyes flashed your way.

“what?” you scoffed, hands on your hips. “what is it?”

“what’d you mean ‘what’? you totally steamrolled me out there.” she barked, “are you fucking serious?”

ah, it might be appropriate to mention; you and shauna had a rather… complicated relationship dynamic.

her and jackie used to be a package deal. you wanted jackie, shauna came with. one couldn’t, and wouldn’t, go without the other. but after the crash, the bond between the two grew estranged, and eventually, shauna sought solace in the one yellowjacket that had yet to turn their back upon her.

she was desperate. she was pregnant. you were there.

you were there to say the things jackie wouldn’t, the ones she hopelessly needed to hear.

“i can’t have you and mari stirring up a storm around here anymore,” you sighed, “tension’s high and morale’s low, the last thing we need is some petty playground beef.”

“you’re gonna walk out there and let us go, warden.”

her little acts of rebellion were what she needed, so you let the first couple slip. but you were deeply regretting letting her get away with them, because now she won’t stop.

your authority meant little to shauna, and you need an urgent revamp to remind her just who was put in charge.

“no.” you replied. you swore you saw steam from her ears.

“no?” she replied, her lips curling into a vindictive smirk, her eyebrows still deeply furrowed. “did you just say ‘no’ to me?”

you crossed your arms, swallowing your nerves.

“yes, shipman. i said no.”

“stop fucking calling me that.” you were quickly pinned to the wall, shauna’s hand around your neck. a stunned gasp escaped your lips, her fingers etching her mark into your skin. “here’s what’s gonna happen. i’m not gonna be on house arrest, no, but mari will be. you’ll make sure that little pest stays out of my lane, and you won’t shame me like that in front of everybody again. do you understand?”

you let out a small whimper, nodding frantically.

her grip on your throat tightened, your pulse racing against her fingertips. “use your words.” she ordered, her breath grazing the burning tip of your ears.

“yes.” you managed, squirming beneath her.

“yes, ‘what’?” she asked, you knew just how to appease her.

“yes, shauna.” you breathed, feeling her warm palm creep up your shirt and caress your waist. “i understand.”

“good.” she hummed, her hand on your neck gliding smoothly up the curve of your neck to grab your jaw. her dull, doe eyes peered down at your lips, her own parting as her chest heaved with each quickening breath.

“wait, is that shauna?” gen questioned, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes for a closer glimpse.

melissa’s head snapped towards the back of camp, where they watched the butcher sharpen her knife. her shaggy hair parted to the side, and her flannel sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

“isn’t she supposed to be on house arrest?”

“right, ‘cause shauna’s the most obedient person we know,” melissa scoffed, “she’s probably violating her probation just to piss y/n off for putting her in time out--here.”

the blonde led the other towards your hut, where you were in a meeting with nat and tai about the logistics of camp.

upon the two shielding any light pouring through the arched opening of your private hut, all three pairs of your eyes looked up at the two standing amidst your doorway.

“y/n, can we talk to you for a second?” melissa asked.

you raised an eyebrow, you lips parting in hesitance. you glanced back towards tai and nat sitting on the cushions before you. you scoffed softly, a polite smile across your lips. “i’m kinda in the middle of something, ladies.”

“it’s kinda urgent,” gen added, her grimace evident.

you sighed, but after a quick nod of approval from tai and an indifferent shrug from nat, you gestured for them to continue.

“we think… shauna’s plotting something.” melissa’s voice fell to a hushed whisper at the end, “she’s either planning on jumping you or mari, we don’t know which.”

the hut fell silent for a moment.

you paused, rescinding your though before speaking. “what?”

“uhm, shauna? the big raging monster who’s been biting people and shit?” gen cocked her head. “she’s dangerous.”

“what makes you say that--? the killing part, i mean.” your eyebrows furrowed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

on top of lottie’s supernatural bs, conspiracies were too much.

“she’s not in her hut, she’s strutting around camp like she didn’t fucking assault mari.” melissa’s thumb pointed outside.

“uh,” you stammered, “i, uh… lifted the punishment.”

“what?” tai hissed, “are you batshit? you can’t just let shauna get away with treating mari like a chew toy.” she shot forward. “this is exactly what we were just talking about, y/n, soon enough, she’ll actually believe she can get away with anything. you’ve gotta put that ban back right now.”

you groaned, “look, i talked to shauna after and she knows what she did was wrong! it wasn’t like mari didn’t light the fuse, it’s not fair i punish her.”

“isn’t that why you punished them both in the first place?”

you sighed, rolling your eyes before glaring at the italian. as if mentally telling her, ‘not helping, nat!’

“what you did was nice and just. now that you’ve got shauna running free and mari serving time, you’ve tipped the scale again.” tai crossed her arms, “you’ve gotta set your foot down with her before she actually does do some damage.”

you held your hands up. “okay, okay! i’ll talk to her.”

you shuffled up, scurrying between melissa and gen, who made way for you. the two disperse as well, eager to catch the drama of your confrontation. as you disappear from their view, tai and nat share a mutual look of skepticism.

“how much do you wanna bet they’re fucking?”

tai sneered at nat’s prompt. “oh, come on. like y/n would ever.”

the blonde chuckled, shaking her head. “dude, think about it for a second, it’s so fucking obvious.”

“see, i actually like y/n, so i wouldn’t wish this upon her.”

“really?” nat scoffed, “how does two weeks of chores sound?”

tai narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips. after a brief pause, she slapped nat’s hand harshly in a shake, sealing the reward.

when shauna saw you approaching her, the first thing she could see was the hickey peeking out of your shorts with every stride you took. her heart swelled with pride.

she smirked to herself, setting her knife down, bracing herself for whatever excuse of a scolding you were about to give.

“shipman, get back in your hut!” you yelled harshly.

taken aback by the alternative approach, she scoffed. “what?”

“you heard me.” you spat, grabbing her arm and yanking her up. your hands planted on her chest, nudging her backwards towards her hut. “i don’t want you out of here until the sun comes up tomorrow morning.”

“the fuck?” she grabbed your wrists, “hold on--!”

“no, you listen to me.” you hissed, “people are starting to notice me cutting you slack, i want you to take this punishment and think about how you can control your anger issues.”

“hey! have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”

you shoved her straight into her hut. she fell back into the cushions making a bed, watching as you stood over her with your arms crossed. you clenched your jaw, foot stepping straight between her legs and down against her chest when she tried to stand up. she snarled.

“stay down.” you ordered, “and stay here. i’m warning you.”

shauna didn’t flinch. she cocked her head aside slightly, one brow arching, that slow, maddening smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. replacing what once was that menacing scowl, you were--as twisted as it sounded--beginning to miss it. “i was hungry,” she said with a newfound softness, tucking the knife in her hand back into her belt without breaking eye contact. “didn’t think the queen would mind her butcher feeding herself. thought you’d have better things to care for.”

you let your foot dig into her chest just more in warning, trying not to let your face betray how your skin lit up every time she challenged you like this. “i didn’t ban you from eating. i banned you from leaving this hut after you attacked mari.”

"banned?" shauna snorted, but not before dragging the tips of her fingers across your ankle, slow and deliberate. “i was exempted by your majesty, remember? besides, mari’s a mouthy little bitch. it was time she got dealt with.”

you watched her face contort from one of annoyance to one of calculated seduction. “that’s not your call.”

she stopped, turned to face you fully. you could see it then--how much she loved this, the push and pull, the crackle of tension between rule and rebellion. the knowing you could yell at her all you wanted, but still submit the moment she touched you. she chuckled, the sound made your stomach churn. she grabbed your leg gently. “and you think it’s yours?”

you gulped, but held your ground, heart pounding.

you could only stand and watch as she moved your leg effortlessly, propping herself up so she could be facing you just one breath away. she smirked, the lines under her eyes creasing as she nodded, urging you to answer her.

“I’m the one wearing the crown. not you.”

she laughed--quiet and mocking, eyes flicking to the stupid necklace akilah had made you with an antler pendent.

“you’re right. you wear it,” she murmured, chuckling lowly. “but you don’t know what to do with it.”

you rolled your eyes. “just stay in the hut, shipman.”

she crossed her arms. “yeah, right,” she whispered, stepping even closer, so she could grab your waist, pulling you into her. “are you done with your little act? got that out your system?”

wow, were you really that disrespected as a leader?

“watch it,” you hissed, “before you make me do something both of us don’t want.”

she stared at you for a long second, eyes dark and daring, and then, she smiled. “okay,” she said, grabbing the side of your hips. “you’re the queen. i’ll stay right here.”

a bad feeling riddled you as she stared back at you with a submissive edge, but it felt like the crown was starting to fit.

dinner was thin that night--rabbit, again, stewed with dried berries in a dented pot that hissed softly over the fire. you sat a little apart from the others, still-full cup of stew in your hands, watching the steam curl and vanish into the cool spring night. shauna was across from you, expression unreadable, chewing slow like nothing had happened. like she hadn’t spent the last hours testing your chair, leaving her mark in the crown.

tai dropped down beside you with a grunt and handed you a wooden bowl. “the queen gets extra treats. eat up.”

she said casually, elbows resting against her knees.

“says who?” you scoffed, staring down at the bowl of jerky.

“says me. you’ve barely touched that thing of stew, so you’re obviously not into it.” she nodded towards the dented cup you’ve been toying with for the entirety of dinner. “i got some leftover jerky from the shed. you need to eat something.”

“ah. thanks.” you didn’t answer, picking at the food, though you weren’t hungry. tai, of course, didn’t drop it as she should.

“y’know if you ever need someone to lay it on shauna, im happy to help,” tai muttered under her breath. “she’s been out of control lately, and you--” she paused, eyes narrowing as her gaze flicked to the collar of your shirt. “what the hell is that?”

you froze, jerking away as her fingers reach your neck.

tai reached out before you could pull away, brushing her fingers against the edge of the bruise that peeked out above your neckline--a deep purple mark blooming just below your collarbone. “that’s a hickey,” she announced, just a tad louder than you had hoped. you quickly shushed her.

“it’s not,” you lied, stiffly tugging your coat closed. “it’s probably just some tick bite i got from the lake.”

tai scoffed. “oh, come on, if anybody here knows what a hickey looks like, it’s me. lemme see that!”

you clenched your jaw, avoiding her eyes. “tai, it’s not--!”

“you liar!” she squealed, your collar tugged down to your collarbone with her fingers. “who in the hell is our lovely y/n l/n screwing around here?”

“shh!” you hissed, “can you keep it down! it’s not a hickey!”

“getting some isn’t a crime, y/n. just tell me who it is.”

“does it matter?” you scoffed, “it doesn’t change anything.”

“of course it matters,” tai replied, nudging you with her elbow. “you’re the antler queen, if there’s another potential antler queen or king around here, i need to know.”

“there isn’t,” you snapped, a little too fast. “let it go, turner.”

tai raised an eyebrow at the defensive edge to your tone, but didn’t press further. she held her hands up. “you’re the boss.”

when she stood to leave, most likely to share her findings with van, you pulled your coat tighter and adjusted your shirt, making sure the bruise was well-hidden now. from across the fire, shauna was watching again--eyes half-lidded, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she toyed with her knife. like she knew tai caught you, and she liked it.

you rolled your eyes, but still, your stomach fluttered. you hated her for that. almost as much as you hated yourself.

you don’t remember exactly when everything fell into a deep pit of insanity, but you caught yourself standing amidst wave after wave of chaos and hysteria.

the camp was loud; panicked voices overlapping, boots crunching as people circled and recircled the same patch of forest clearing like mari would suddenly reappear if they just looked hard enough. but she didn’t.

and god, did you wish she’d just pop up like her mari self and say, “sike! you guys should see your faces.”

her spot at dinner was still untouched, her blanket rumpled.

and everyone knew it wasn’t like her to wander off this long without making some drama about it first.

“she probably slipped and fell into a ravine,” van offered unhelpfully, arms crossed and voice too chipper. “or she’s hiding as some crazy trick to get us worried.”

“she was being a brat all day,” nat added, adjusting her hair-band. “but even mari wouldn’t play games like this.”

then misty’s voice cut through the murmur like a blade. “so we’re really not gonna talk about the fact that shauna was the last one to threaten her and then mari’s suddenly gone?”

all heads turned towards the butcher. she didn’t flinch.

Just be leaned against the post of the meat-drying rack, arms crossed, her expression calm but simmering.

“oh, please,” she scoffed, “if i wanted to get rid of her, you wouldn’t even realize she’s missing.”

“jesus,” misty gasped, clutching the coach’s jacket like pearls. “are we hearing this? she just basically confessed.”

“you better watch your mouth, quigley,” shauna snapped.

the shouting started to swell again--tai stepping forward to place herself between shauna and misty, nat’s hand twitching near the knife in her pocket, lottie getting involved with some wilderness preaching. you needed to tame the fire--and fast.

you let it go for a few seconds, long enough to watch how quick everyone was to turn on each other.

it uneased you, as it has unraveled under your rule.

“enough!” you yelled at the top of your lungs.

everybody froze, their voices ceasing. you looked around, your voice more steady than you felt. “we’re not turning on each other right now because mari can’t afford it. what happened to her isn’t important, finding her is our priority. so until we find mari fucking ibarra, i don’t want to hear another accusation.”

“but--!” misty chimed. tai eyed you skeptically.

“i said enough,” you repeated, your tone final. “no one’s guilty until we know. that’s how this works.”

silence stretched. the group shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other, but no one challenged you.

shauna gave you a cool stare, cross-armed and watching.

“we need to split up,” you announced, “cover as much ground as we can before it gets dark. now, nat and i will lead two parties. i want travis and akilah to lead their own as well. find yourself a group, spread out into even numbers, and find her.”

you waved for nat’s gun, she reluctantly handed it over.

“now, who’s coming with me?” you slung it over your head.

sending people into the woods, half-fed and directionless, wasn’t a plan--it was a risk. realistically, mari had been gone for the better part of a day, and most of the team weren’t exactly well-fed. still, only few of you knew the woods. the others could barely tell north from their own footprints.

you weren’t sure who you were hoping would join you, exactly. but you were sure you needed more than the rifle for security.

especially cuz you were queen; antlers are prone to predators.

wordlessly, you felt a presence loom over your shoulder.

shauna had stepped across the quad to stand beside you.

her antic got a few side-eyes, but no one said anything. they knew shauna was one loyal son of a bitch, especially to her newYou could feel Tai’s stare burning into your side, but you kept your gaze on Shauna, steady and unreadable.

“good luck keeping an eye on that one,” gen scoffed.

“hey.” you called, glaring at the girl. “one more word, and you’re on bucket duty ‘til winter.”

behind you, shauna shot misty a smug smirk. taunting her.

how could you, of all people, their sacred leader who always put the team’s wellbeing first defend a sadist as cruel as shauna? it made no sense, how you were always flying to her rescue, even when she didn’t quite deserve it.

the woods were quiet in that eerie, smothering sense. branches creaked, the wind stirred dry needles along the ground, but there was no sign of mari.

just the trees, serene silence--and sexual tension.

“really? are you still stuck on that whole ‘i’m the queen, listen to me’ thing?” she scoffed, you could hear the smirk. “come on, i didn’t take you for such a boring old dictator.”

“drop it.” you ordered, hand tightening around the gun strap.

“why’re you so worried about her anyway?” shauna scoffed behind you, her tone dry, “maybe she finally realized no one liked her and ran off into the trees to make it dramatic.”

you stopped in your tracks, turned. “can you not be such a heartless asshole for five minutes?”

she blinked, taken aback. “wow. thought sex would fuck the annoying mom voice out of you.”

you exhaled sharply. “you’re literally the worst person ever.”

shauna followed, boots crunching loudly, deliberately. “you chose to be alone with me, l/n. why’re you whining now?”

“i wanted to make sure you wouldn’t come back alone and i’d end up finding misty dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“you sure that’s the only reason?” she teased, a flicker of heat in her voice. she leant in, kissing your jaw. “mari’s been out here this long already, what’s another hour or so?”

you shoved her. “god, do you ever take anything seriously? she could be dead, for fuck’s sake, and you’re horny?”

she furrowed her brows, her hand on your hip slipping down. “what do you want me to do? cry about it? hold your hand and whisper that everything’s gonna be okay?”

“can we just… not? please?” you snapped, louder than you meant to. “i’m already so tired from managing a dozen people’s every move seven days of the week, i don’t need you giving me more problems, okay?”

a beat of silence. the wind rustled above.

she stepped in close, too close, the sharp scent of smoke and pine clinging to her--well, your--clothes. “then let me help.”

you opened your mouth to mutter out some poor excuse, but she kissed you before you could answer. hard and fast. her hands gripping your hips like she could wring control out of your body if she just held tight enough.

you tried to pull back. “shauna--!”

she kissed you again, slower this time, and your resistance melted like snow against skin. her fingers slid beneath your shirt, palms hot even through your shirt, grounding you and overwhelming you all at once.

“you’re swamped, right?” she murmured against your neck. “i want you to relax… let me help you with your duties.”

perhaps you lacked respect for your own place, but god help you, when shauna touched you like that--like you were the only thing she could still claim as she rages at the world--you felt like something she needed, something that made her human again. and who was a queen who didn’t serve her people?

even if this version of shauna only lasted when she wanted.

so you let yourself melt into her arms, backing into the trunk of the nearest tree. her lips trace the dip of your neck, tongue wet and hot against your skin. her hands melded around your hips just right, before she met you for another quick and needy kiss.

the moment you stepped back into camp, the shift was obvious. it felt like they knew you wasted the better part of the day letting shauna devour you whole instead of searching for your missing teammate.

your hair mussed beneath your bandana, and your cheeks still hadn’t cooled from the sharp burn of shauna’s hands.

you didn’t meet anyone’s eyes as you set the rifle down by the fire. your lips were swollen, your jacket half-zipped, and every inch of you screamed touched.

you tried to act normal, clearing your throat.

“so… anything?” you glanced around the circle, and perhaps it was your brain overthinking, but you caught some suspicion.

shauna, unlike you, looked like she just went for a nature walk.

she strolled in behind you, chin high, the usual tension drained from her shoulders and replaced with something looser.

she stood behind you, sneer looming over your shoulder like she was your guard dog. nobody looked your way as she glared down every single person around that circle, her hand on the small of your waist. “are you guys fucking mute? answer her.”

“uh, no.” nat reported, gulping. “nothing south of camp.”

“no sign of her up north either.” travis added.

you glanced over at akilah, a hopeful glint in your eyes.

alas, she shook her head regretfully. you could only let your eyes flutter shut as your heart sunk to your stomach.

“okay, uh… good effort, everyone.” shauna slipped in as everybody waited in bated breath for your reply. you could only sigh softly, you hand flush against your forehead. “we try again at the crack of dawn. the moment the sun rises, we’re setting out. just get some sleep and save your energy for tomorrow.”

everybody gradually disperses from that dismissal.

you caught the “since when was she in charge?” from gen.

hands on your hips, you remained standing in the middle of camp as everybody retired to their huts. loitering behind you stood shauna, who had her arms crossed.

“you need sleep, l/n. no use worrying, it won’t help mari.”

“i can’t believe this happened because i was too distracted. i should’ve kept an eye on everybody.”

“oh come on, people should be able to look after themselves.”

“y’know, if you had just listened to me and stayed in your goddamn hut, none of this would be happening.”

shauna knocked her head back. “really? this again? will you give it a fucking rest already?” she began sauntering towards her own hut, before you grabbed her hand.

“shauna, stop walking away from me when we’re talking.”

“you listen to me, y/n. when i tell you to drop it, you drop it.”

taken aback by her assertive tone, you felt your hand slip from hers. you glanced around to see if anybody had heard, and you were glad to see nobody had a head out from their huts.

“i know you’re stressed about this mari situation,” lulled into a gentler tone, she continued, “and when i find that little bitch, i’ll beat her sorry ass to a pulp. but right now, you’ve gotta stop wasting energy yelling at me and relax.” she squeezed your shoulder. “the girls need you at your best, so why don’t you go get some shut eye. i’ll handle everything for tomorrow.”

maybe you have been preoccupied with the wrong things.

“okay.” you sighed, “you’re right. i need to just relax.”

by the time you had undone your hair and changed into a more comfortable set of clothes, it was well into the night. the wind had calmed, but the cold still crept through the gaps in your walls like it owned the place.

you were curled up on the narrow cot in the antler queen hut, shamelessly more spacious than the ones surrounding it.

you stared at the warped ceiling straws, trying to will your body to forget shauna’s mouth, her voice, her weight pressing into you like a promise. you should be thinking of a game plan to find mari, to worry about your friend, but all you could think about was a certain butcher with a nasty attitude.

then a gust circled your hut, and you turned to see the curtain pushed aside before a figure stepped through the arch.

you didn’t have to see her face to know it was her. no one else would dare sneak into the queen’s hut after dark--not unless they wanted to be exiled by lottie, or worse. shauna didn’t say a word as she slipped inside and draped the blind shut behind her. her boots barely made a sound as she crossed the floor.

she didn’t ask. just slid beneath the furs beside you, cool fingers brushing your arm before she settled in close.

her hand found your waist. her nose nudged the back of your neck. she sighed--like she had finally come home.

“…shauna?” you whispered, not moving, not even turning to face her. “i thought you were making plans for tomorrow.”

“shh,” she muttered quickly. “just go back to sleep.”

but you felt your heart race at her body heat mingling with yours. the way she was clinging onto you right then, thigh flush against yours, her breath soft and steady in your hair. shauna--the girl who’d rather gut a bitch before admitting she needed help--wasn’t here to start something rough or fast?

it was so odd to feel it; her need to lay beside you to sleep.

you didn’t say anything. you reached back and linked your fingers with hers, dragging it to hold in front of your chest.

outside, by the dead firepit, nat leaned against a splintered beam, her arms crossed. tai stood beside her, eyes narrowing at the faint light glowing through the cracks of your hut. the two had gathered to talk about ben’s situation, but watching shauna sneak across camp to the queen’s hut was something neither of them could ignore.

“oh my god,” tai muttered, “first the hickey, now this?”

“told you,” nat said, grinning like the smug bastard she was.

“no. no way. y/n is so--” tai scoffed, her arms crossed. “that’s why the bitch never gets punished. fuck, now i gotta do your chores for a month?”

nat shrugged, smug. “hey, if anything, i should’ve bet higher. you were never gonna win that one.”

tai cursed under her breath while nat laughed.

tai could not believe her eyes. for a moment, she was certain she was still asleep and this was some fucked up nightmare. but van’s sarcastic comment proved otherwise.

“someone got her vibrator working again.” van scoffed.

shauna, stirring what smelled like a hefty feast for breakfast. she pointed at the stack of rusty and misshaped plates. “help yourselves, it’s berry sauce with deer bacon.”

from your hut, you awoke to the commotion from outside. getting up sluggishly from your bed, you moved the bedsheet curtain out of the way, to be met with everybody emerging from their huts, and shauna… smiling?

“are you assholes just gonna stand there? mari’s waiting.”

van and tai shared a look of skepticism. the redhead, proving herself to be most daring of the bunch, risked losing a finger to poke the bear. “shauna, are you… well?”

and then, as if to conceal it, the butcher cracked a smirk.

“careful. your voice is so grating it’ll scare mari out of hiding.”

it silenced. van scoffed. “was that a joke? from shauna? oh my god, we’ve all been drugged in our sleep.”

you could hear misty let out a confused little laugh, like she didn’t know whether to be scared or amused. to be fair, the brunette was threatening to kill her just yesterday. tai stared openly, mouthing what the fuck at nat, who squinted at you, then back at the girl. like she was saying, i told you so.

“well,” you cleared your throat, stepping to stand in the light. “thanks for making breakfast, shauna. everybody should eat up. we’ll get more time to search for mari today.”

shauna filled a singular plate, strolling over to hand it to you personally. “enjoy, my queen.” she purred, smirking.

as everybody settled, you sat across camp with her.

watching your every move closely,

“she’s smiling?” melissa whispered, her arms crossed as she leant against the table. “i can’t remember the last time shauna wasn’t trying to kill someone with that permanent scowl.”

“no, no--joking,” van murmured, sounding halfway between impressed and alarmed. “shauna made a joke. did she put shrooms in the stew last night, or is this actually real?”

“yeah,” travis added under his breath, joining them. “since when does she talk to anyone unless she’s pissed?”

as they broke down the girl’s odd behaviour, the two of you sat isolated away from the team.

“i have an idea on how to punish mari when we find her.”

when. that’s ironically, rather optimistic for her.

“punish--? shauna, she could be half-dead and bleeding right now for all we know.” you scolded, picking at your berry sauce.

“it’s mari. she probably just ran off for attention.”

you were about to make some argument in protest, but you knew better than to bicker about something so trivial with shauna of all people. you just nodded, urging her to elaborate.

“since she loves running so much, let’s give her a reason to run.” her smile was… sinister, almost. sinister, but genuine, and that was probably what scared you most.

it was the way she sounded so excited talking about it.

“what’re you saying?” your tone came out fearful, hesitant.

“don’t you hear it?” she grinned, “the cards are calling.”

an; omg this took so long cuz my fuck ass school is throwing a million things at me at once… i want to update more and i promise yall there’s a lot of drafts waiting to be posted! ily :)

happy reading xx

[asteroshearts]

Postpartum Confinement

[Xavier (Shen Xinghui 沈星回 ) + Caleb (Xia Yizhou 夏以晝)]

In Chinese culture, mothers stay and rest for a month or more after giving birth to properly recover (zuo yue zi).

Warnings: Yandere themes for Caleb's

Zayne and Sylus

Xavier (Shen Xinghui 沈星回 )

The Yue Sao (postpartum care nanny) and her little assistant, Xavier.

You and Xavier decided to hire a Yue Sao recommended by one of your older coworkers at the Hunters Association, and now Xavier could always be seen shyly shuffling behind her around the house, ready to get you anything and everything you needed at a moment's notice.

Your coworker told you that she heard many horror stories about Yue Sao or in-laws being opinionated or strict, but she told you that this woman always asked her what she wanted first.

It was true, this woman was an angel to you, so patient, asking for your opinions, making jokes with you, saying things like, "Oh, you don't want to? That's fine!"

But with Xavier...she was Gordon Ramsay, and he was her sous chef.

No more midday napping for him.

While you rested or nursed the baby, you could always see him in the background mopping, vacuuming, cleaning the kitchen, the bathroom, up and down the entire home.

Whenever his path would cross yours on his crusade, he'd always shoot such sad bunny eyes at you two... he wanted to nap with his baby too....

But the Yue Sao said you already did the brunt of the work, creating the baby for nine months, pushing them out, and experiencing the most pain you had ever felt in your life, what Xavier had to deal with was a molehill compared to your mountain.

But when she tried to teach him how to make you a postpartum soup...

["Um..." he answered awkwardly, "I don't think I should."

"Xinghui!" she scolded, and if he had bunny ears, you could imagine them drooping by now. He had normally been so above and beyond for you, so what changed? "What will happen when I'm no longer around? Who will make your wife soup?"

Those bunny ears seemed to sag even more.

"Are you going to make the mother of your child get up and make her own soup?"]

One hour later, you and your baby woke up with a jump when a loud BOOM came from your kitchen.

Your Yue Sao later apologized and swore to never let him cook again.

She later recommended some places you could order delivery from for meals specifically for postpartum women.

For some reason...why do I feel like he'd be really good at the massages meant to help you with lactation?

When the nanny tried to teach you the massage, you easily called Xavier over to learn too, as you trusted him.

He wouldn't find it awkward or weird, and would take up her lessons with seriousness.

He'd be the perfect mix of gentle and nimble, but he'd stare at your face as he'd do it, catching any microexpressions for any ounce of discomfort or pain. If the pressure was too much, he'd slow down or switch techniques immediately.

Being a nanny, your Yue Sao had seen far too many lazy, distant, or ungrateful fathers, so she was so glad to meet Xavier, who waited on you hand and foot.

As she mentioned that to him, a small smile appeared on his lips.

He didn't mind. As a knight, he lived devoted.

Caleb (Xia Yizhou 夏以晝)

A tradition where you aren't supposed to go outside, not meet with anyone else, and where all attention was on you and the ultimate proof of your love, and that you would never leave him, your child? Oh, he's over the moon.

Why should the zuo yue zi only be a month? He's telling you to make it three—five, in fact, you could stay like this forever.

Despite this, however, he doesn't trust anyone to properly take care of you and your baby. Not a random postpartum nanny, not any of the care centers, and you two had no in-laws.

He might not trust anyone, but that doesn't mean he would dare deprive you of any resource or help.

He puts it on himself to fill in the empty spaces and throws himself into learning about postpartum care, taking classes while you were still pregnant and constantly researching.

Some may say it takes a village to raise a child, but Caleb is all you need, hm?

Since it's just him doing all of the work, he wants to make sure that no stone is unturned, and falls deeply into believing postpartum superstitions and traditional medicine.

Feeds you bitter herbal stews and constantly talks about keeping the "heat" in your body.

You have to debate and argue with him that nothing will happen if you turn on the AC for just a bit in the summer, and can he please stop feeding you pork trotters!?

He's a bit sad too, though. It's just as hard for you as it is for him. Postpartum women aren't supposed to eat overly salty, oily foods, and he loves making you his famous braised chicken.

Washes your hair for you, cooks you every meal, and we all know that he's a pro at doing your laundry 😏, so the second the baby throws/spits up on you, he's there in a second with a fresh shirt and wiping you down.

It may seem excessive, but he'll say in his sweet voice that keeping clean is good for your mental health and how you view yourself.

But he'll love you no matter what. Even if you smell like baby vomit.

He takes over the night shift completely with your baby without you knowing, so much so that, for a while, you believed that your baby just didn't wake up in the middle of the night like other kids.

You had full eight-plus hours of sleep for months, and you were none the wiser that Caleb would wake up at the slightest hint of a whimper or cry from the crib beside your bed, feed the baby, rock them, and change diapers, all while you slept peacefully.

You didn't catch on until one of your calls with Jenna, she told you that it was improbable that your baby didn't wake up at all during the night, and perhaps one day, you should pretend to sleep to catch the act.

So that's why he asked you to pump so much.

Some women may beg for at least a 50/50 relationship with the father of their children, but for Caleb, 50/50 isn't enough. If he weren't human, and if he were made of machine and metal, he'd want to be built just for this. He'd make it so that you wouldn't have to lift a single finger, and he'd take care of everything.

[harunayuuka2060]

*Vil was still upset about the ordeal he had experienced, replaying in his mind how the MC had looked at him with such kindness—and their final words: "Save them." Rook studied his dorm leader’s expression, curious about the events that had unfolded beyond the portal. Yet he knew it wasn’t his place to ask.*

*Meanwhile, Grim sat in front of the chained portal, staring at it intently. Malleus noticed him and approached.*

Malleus: Grim, you must be growing impatient.

Grim: *continues to stare at the portal*

Malleus: ...

Leona: Azul, Ace, Epel, and robo-child.

Ortho: My name is Ortho.

Leona: Yeah, whatever. You're dealing with the next.

Azul: Honestly, I don’t think I’m ready for this.

Leona: You think you've got any choice?

Azul: ...

Azul: I dislike how you’re the one in control here.

Ace: I hope this MC will take easy on us.

Epel: Don't jinx us.

Ortho: Hmm... *his eyes widened* Is this the sound of waves I hear?

Ace: Eh?! But Leona-senpai! Ortho is not waterproof!

Leona: I know.

Idia: If you know, then why are you choosing him?!

Leona: These portals don't always follow natural logic. I chose the Octo-punk to lead this time because he's a merfolk.

Leona: And I'm sure Ortho would be fine regardless.

Idia: No! Just send Jack again—

Ortho: No, brother. If Leona chose me, then my expertise must be needed.

Leona: There we have it. Now run along and get that shard.

Azul: Don’t worry, Idia. I’ll get us out of there at the first sign of danger.

Idia: ...

Idia: Okay.

Azul: ...

*The four stared up at MC’s towering form. A giant-sized mermaid, they sat motionless in the middle of the ocean, their pale skin and tail almost luminous under the light. Even submerged, their scales appeared brittle, as if drying out. Their distant gaze remained fixed on the blue sky—unaware of the group watching from the shore.*

Ace: Wh-What's going on, Azul-senpai?

Azul: ...

Ortho: By all observable metrics, their condition defies natural laws.

Epel: They're sick?

Ortho: Or worse.

Ace: OI!!! PREFECT!!!

MC: ...

Ace: LOOK AT US! WE'RE HERE!

MC: ...

Ace: Azul-senpai!

Azul: ...

Azul: Wait here—I'm going to take a closer look.

*Azul dove into the water, shifting into his mer-form as he approached—then recoiled, instinctively covering his nose at the pungent scent of decay.*

Azul: (This is...)

Ace: What's wrong with them?

Azul: ...

Azul: A merfolk thrives in the embrace of the ocean—yet here, the Prefect withers, as if the very sea poisons them.

Epel: Are you suggesting the water is toxic?

Ortho: Should we get them out of the water?

Azul: I doubt that'll help.

Ace: ...

Ace: *jumps into the water and swims towards MC*

Epel: Ace! You idiot— *does the same thing*

Azul and Ortho: ...

Ace: *struggles to climb over their lap* Yo— You're slippery!

Epel: *curses when he slides back down*

Riddle: I hope Ace doesn't do anything idiotic.

Jamil: You're asking too much.

Ruggie: Have some faith in Ace. Shishishi!

Malleus: ...

Grim: ...

Grim: *his ears twitched*

Malleus: Grim, is there something amiss?

*Grim charged the portal, throwing his full weight against it—again and again—until the others exchanged uneasy looks.*

Silver: Grim! Stop! You're hurting yourself!

Grim: Grrr!!!

Sebek: GRIM! HURTING YOURSELF WON'T OPEN THAT PORTAL!

Grim: ...

Grim: Grr...

Leona and the others: ...

Leona: We're doing our best here. Learn to wait.

Grim: ...

Malleus: ...

[kbb306]

1. No, but she would have liked one.

2. She has a little sister and first aid training. She'll be fine.

3. ".....tall."

4. Eh, maybe maroon?

5. She would absolutely give a speech defending her father. He's....not the brightest and they both know it, so she overcompensates.

6. She trusts her best friend Ellie Otten unconditionally. She doesn't have any hard "no" for this, except when it comes to asking her dad about romance.

7. Impulsive, yet stubborn./"Only three words? What kind of question is that?"

8. There's a whole thing about puzzles with her family. Best not to ask.

9. Depends what your definition of "non-sentient" is.

10. A few years ago, she'd have said "old enough for medical school." Now that she has a little sister, she's starting to miss childhood.

11. "I would pay for a medical scholarship."

12. Romance weirds her out (unless it's Jay)

13. "Never let a bully know they've gotten to you."

14. Jay Pinkerton (she's still struggling to accept she falls as fast and hard as her dad once did), singing.

15. Playing nice with people she doesn't like

16. Michigan is near constant sweater weather. Not a lot of concern for fashion in a small town like Eaden anyway.

17. She'll protect children with everything she has. It kills her that ABIGAIL actually wants to stay in That Place.

18. "Tongue? How would that even- ew!"

19. "It doesn't matter how much I study. Logarithms will never be a thing that people actually need, and they will never make any sense."

20. Jazz music (or at least, the town's reaction to jazz music)

21. If anyone actually knows her father and STILL thinks he could be dangerous, that's a deal breaker. I almost wrote a scene like that.

22. Not really a pet name, but her dad's nicknames for her are a treasured memory.

23. Yearns for novelty, knows they need stability. Her family has a big secret to keep.

24. Doesn't spare anyone's feelings but her family's (usually)

25. See #23

26. Effort, all the way. You think a five year old who just fell out of a tree has any real talent for medicine? Dr. Dillon patching her up back then is what *inspired* her, but the skill was all worked for ever since then.

27. Understanding. Forgiveness is earned.

28. If Wheatley's opinion of Jay counts, yes.

29. Aperture. More recently, that time she accidentally shut her own life support off.

30. If taking GLaDOS down wouldn't devastate the little girl She somehow adopted, Sophie would *destroy* Her on behalf of the whole family.

Read more about Sophie here:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3192879

oc asks that reveal more than you think

Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Ask them to describe their love interest.

Do they look good in red?

Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

What age do they most want to be right now?

They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Name one thing their parents taught them.

Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

Do they like children?

Kissing: tongue or no tongue?

Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?

What do they like that nobody else does?

What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

Stability or novelty?

Honesty or charity?

Safety or possibility?

Talent or effort?

Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Would they date a fixer-upper?

What recurring dreams do they have?

What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

[rooniearts]

OKAY SO- does sonic ever realize he screwed up when leaving patiya(probably spelled that wrong) behind? Does he ever acknowledge her? What would she do if he tried? Would tails stand in the way? Is Knuckles mad at sonic? Sorry for so many questions, I just found this AU recently and I am OBSESSED (in a healthy way). Love your art and I can't wait to see how this AU grows!

He absolutely does! In fact, he realizes pretty early on that he's screwing things up with Pitaya, but just doesn't know how to do right by her and is too prideful to ask for help. He figures he doesn't need to and that everything will turn out fine since Tails is already stepping in and helping... But now Tails is clearly mad at him too. It seems like no one's on his side anymore. This is why he eventually starts running off on adventures all the time with Ray and Mighty - they're the only two people he knows who aren't connected to this whole mess. This, too, is him avoiding the situation.

By the time he has Barb, his deepest regret is how he handled Pitaya. He wants to make amends, but he still doesn't know how. He hopes just being friendly to her will start bridging the gap, but she's responded coldly so far. He's not happy about it, but he won't force her to accept him. He just hopes she knows that he's there for her now if she ever needs him.

Tails doesn't get in the way of this, he actively avoids interacting or dealing with Sonic directly up until certain events (that y'all will see later!). If Sonic can figure out how to bond with Pitaya, that's fine by him.

And yes, Knuckles gets mad at him too, but only until they fully separate. When they don't have a little kid or co-parenting to argue over, he gets along with Sonic just fine. He even considers him a good friend still, up until the topic lands on Pitaya. Then it's a battle to the death again.

[starcandybby]

rings and realizations

haechan x reader

summary: while shopping with Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun on a rare day off, Haechan lingers to long at the jewelry store which prompts questions and encouragement.

minors pls dni

warnings: shitty writing, reader is only in a flashback. reader has she/her pronouns, FLUFF, talks of marriage and engagements, 00z tease haechan but he takes it like a champ, haechan is referred to as donghyuck in this because I can, italics are flashbacks!

─────── ౨ৎ ─────── ౨ৎ ───────

It's a rare day off for Donghyuck. In between NCT Dream and 127 schedules, he'd be lucky to sleep in before practice. But an entire day off? Maybe once in a blue moon- and probably not even that often.

Donghyuck would have liked to spend the day with you- preferably in bed, maybe playing video games with you nestled between his legs. However, much to his dismay, when you heard Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun invited Donghyuck to go shopping, you encouraged him to join them.

"Baby," Hyuck huffed, "I see them all the time. I don't need to go shopping with them."

"But, working with them is different! When was the last time you spent some quality time with them- without the pressure of cameras and practice and idol life?" You returned, soft but firm.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes, knowing you were 100% right. It is different spending time with his friends without the context of their jobs; it was more natural. He didn't feel like he had to embody the persona of Haechan from NCT. It was freeing. But, Donghyuck was also stubborn. What was so wrong about wanting to spend time with his girlfriend on a rare day off?

"Plus!" You continued, only encouraged by his eye-roll, "You've been so focused on 127 activities, you probably haven't seen them in a few weeks." A pause, "And, passing them in the company building doesn't count Hyuck." A soft smile graced your lips when you finished, letting him know that you were teasing him. If he really didn't want to go, you would drop the subject and welcome him with open arms on his day off.

"Yeah, yeah fine I'll go." You smile grew at your boyfriend’s response. "But! I get to sleep in, I want to have lunch and dinner together, and I want extra cuddles after dinner."

Your smile was extra wide now, causing the end of Donghyuck's lips to slightly turn up, unmasking his attempt at being serious.

"It's a deal!" And you sealed it with a kiss on his cheek.

So, here he was. At a luxury department store that was seemingly deserted when the four idols arrived. He suspects Jaemin and Renjun had a hand in that. He's half listening to the three discuss what stores they want to stop in; the other half of him is wondering which stores he'd like to stop in himself. Donghyuck isn't committed to a particularly style or brand; if he likes a piece, he'll buy it.

God, he misses you. And, at this moment, he really misses shopping with you, and how your eyes would light up when you really liked a clothing item on him or how you'd get all shy when he returned the compliments.

"Let's stop by Ferragamo first?" Renjun's question snaps Donghyuck out of his daydream. The younger one nodded and followed the three others.

-

Donghyuck hated to admit that you were right. (You always are). But spending time with his brothers felt good. There was no pressure; they could be themselves.

So far, Donghyuck had picked up a few things for himself- new glasses frames, a belt, and a new shirt. For you, he found a luxury purse and matching bracelets for you both. Anniversary gifts secured.

Now, the four men found themselves in Tiffany & Co. Jaemin had mentioned wanting to find some accessories for an upcoming event. While Renjun and Jaemin talk with the sales associate, Donghyuck decides to wander around the store.

He wasn't looking for anything in particular; he had enough jewelry at home and he's not sure Tiffany & Co is his style anyway. So, he just walks around the display cases to pass the time.

Donghyuck has seen so many diamond necklaces, bracelets, and earrings that they're all starting to blur together.

Until, he stumbles upon three display cases of rings.

He almost just walks by but something sturs in his chest seeing the diamond rings. A feeling that tells him to stop, even for just a second.

Donghyuck's eyes move over the rings, taking note of all the different cuts, sizes, and styles.

And he finally caves.

He lets himself imagine which ring would look best sitting on the finger of your left hand.

Which one would you like? What does your dream engagement ring look like?

You two had never discussed marriage or your weddings in depth. But, phrases like: "in our first home", "our kids" , and "when we're married" were not uncommon in such casual conversations about your futures.

Donghyuck was sure hopeful that you would say yes to his proposal, someday.

His eyes continued to move across the display cases, his brain analyzing what you might like or dislike about each ring. He doesn't even notice a faint shadow that appears next to him.

"Getting married soon are we?" Jeno asks smugly. Donghyuck need not to even look at the man to know the teasing smile he's sporting. He's too in his head right now to play along, so he ignores Jeno's question.

"Do you see any that you think she'll like?" He asks; voice coming through serious, almost as an attempt to mask any kind of vulnerability that might lie in it.

Thankfully, Jeno picks up Donghyuck's vocal queue and drops any teasing remarks he may have had prepared. He starts to assess the rings as closely as Donghyuck.

Jeno points out some rings that Donghyuck agrees you'll like. The latter continues to eye the pieces of jewelry while the former now observes his best friend.

Donghyuck. Engaged.

When Jeno first met you, first saw how you and his brother interacted, he knew you were it for him. He just didn't know that his friend was so serious about it so soon.

Soon? Well, you and Donghyuck have been dating for 2 years now, Jeno muses.

"Didn't know you were thinking about asking." Jeno tries to casually begin. He wants Donghyuck to be honest, but he doesn't want to broach the topic too seriously for his best friend to close off.

"I wasn't but I am now." Donghyuck absentmindedly answers, eyes still trained on the rings. But, Jeno doesn't miss the way his eyebrows pinch together and how his fingers can't seem to stay still, always fidgeting in some way.

"How soon?" Jeno continues.

"Not yet." Donghyuck replies.

A moment passes, and another.

"But soon."

Jeno's lips curl up at that. And this is his queue to shift to a more teasing tone.

"Our Hyuckie is getting married!" He shakes Donghyuck's shoulders, finally pulling him away from staring down Tiffany's many rings.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and shakes Jeno off him, "And you're not going to be the best man so don't even ask."

Jeno feigns shock, "If I beg to Y/N, she'll make you make me the best man."

"I can resist her no problem."

To this Jeno howls in laughter, catching the attention of the other two as they make their way over, shopping bags in hand.

"What's so funny?" Renjun asks, eyebrows raised at Jeno.

“Hyuck just said he can resist Y/N!” Jeno said; words paired with a teasing smile.

"Ah! You're funny." Jaemin lightly slaps Donghyuck's arms, in which he rolls his eyes and freigns annoyance.

But, it's Renjun who notices the merchandise before them, making the connection quite quickly.

"Are you proposing to Y/N?!" Renjun asks, holding a tone of surprise, yet excitement.

Donghyuck feels too shy to confirm Renjun's suspicions confidently. But, his bashful smile and avoidance of eye contact tells the older brother all he needs to know.

"Are you serious?" It's Jaemin's turn to become excited, eyes sparkling at the thought of Donghyuck getting married, to you no less.

The fiancé-to-be nods and rubs the back of his neck.

"It's seriously no big deal. Plus, it won't even happen for a while. I want to wait until everything calms down. So no need to get all excited..." Donghyuck says sternly. But his brothers know better.

As he was rambling, Renjun, Jaemin, and Jeno's smiles only grew. Donghyuck is nervous. They're sure they can count the number of times they've seen him this nervous on one hand.

"Okay, okay. We get it. We'll leave it alone." Renjun lets it go for Donghyuck's sake and starts to lead the group out of the store.

Jeno and Donghyuck trail behind the other two. The older one can't help but get one last comment in:

"She'll say yes, you know?"

To this, Donghyuck doesn't say anything. But, Jeno doesn't miss the blush that blooms on his cheeks.

─────── ౨ৎ ─────── ౨ৎ ───────

disclaimer: This is purely fiction- nothing in these works reflect real of these people.

a/n: ahhh thank you for reading! I'm in my hyuck feels as always. I wanted to write something small to get me back into writing a little bit. likes, reblogs, and comments are always always appreciated <3

[mintyys-blog]

Hey Mintyy, can you do head cannon or little stories of family life with Mark and the mark variants. Like dealing with kids, the Marks dealing with the kids alone while reader does something or dealing with the kids wanting a pet and stuff like that thank you (What's your favorite show that you can rewatch over and over and not get tried of )

HEADCANONS | family life with the invincible variants

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST 2 | WARNINGS: swearing

Do not repost, translate, or rewrite my work (AI generated or otherwise) without my permission. @mintyys-blog

MAIN MARK

It was supposed to be an easy Saturday.

You had kissed Mark goodbye at the door, patting his chest lovingly and whispering, “You’ll be fine. They’re just little kids. How bad could it be?” Mark smiled confidently. “Relax, Y/N. Go get your hair done, shop, do whatever you want. I got this.”

Five minutes after you left:

The toddler is crying because the TV remote isn’t working. The older kid is trying to “build a rocket” out of couch cushions. The baby? Crawled into the kitchen and got a handful of flour. Mark stands in the middle of the chaos, blinking slowly.

“…Okay,” he says aloud to nobody. “We’re improvising.”

He scoops up the baby first, bouncing them on his hip as he kicks the flour pile under the counter, hoping you won’t notice later. He finds the remote and heroically turns on their favorite cartoon. It buys him a solid ten minutes of peace.

Then comes the “Dad, can we get a dog??” Three pairs of big, pleading eyes. Mark rubs the back of his neck.

“You guys barely clean your rooms…” he argues half-heartedly. “But we’ll take care of it! We’ll feed it and walk it and love it forever!”

Mark sighs deeply, feeling himself crumble. He’s too soft for this.

Fast forward to when you get home:

There’s a tiny, shaggy dog curled up on the couch.

The kids are beaming and showing you its new collar (handmade with paper and stickers).

Mark sheepishly scratches the back of his head.

“They uh… kinda convinced me,” he says with a guilty grin.

You cross your arms, pretending to glare, but your heart melts seeing them all together — the kids giggling, the dog wagging its tail, Mark sitting in the middle of it all looking completely domesticated.

Later that night, you’re snuggled on the couch with Mark while the kids sleep upstairs. The dog snoozes at your feet.

“You’re too easy,” you tease, poking his side. He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “Yeah…but it’s worth it. Look at them, Y/N. They’re happy.” And honestly? You wouldn’t trade this messy, chaotic, perfect little family for anything.

SINISTER MARK

Mark was not the “typical” family man. He didn’t soften easily. Didn’t smile much. Didn’t coo or fawn over anyone.

But he loved his family. Fiercely. In the only way he knew how. When you had to leave for a few hours, handing him the kids like precious, wiggling bombs, he gave you that deadpan look. “You’re lucky I love you,” he grumbled, adjusting one kid under his arm and dragging the other by the hoodie.

Five minutes after you leave:

The toddler demands cookies for breakfast.

The older one challenges him to a wrestling match.

The baby starts chewing on the TV remote.

Mark watches all of this with a twitch of his jaw, contemplating if he could just… tie them to the couch (kidding… mostly).

“Alright, tiny terrorists,” he mutters, scooping them up. “New rule: whoever sits down and shuts up the longest wins a prize.”

It almost works. For about two minutes. Then comes the “Dad, can we get a dog?” Mark’s whole face twists in a look of absolute disgust. “A dog? Hell no. You already pee on the floor sometimes—why would I add another thing that does?”

“But pleeeease! Dad, pleeeease!” The toddler tugs on his pants, sniffling dramatically.

Mark grits his teeth. It’s not the begging that gets him. It’s the thought of them looking at someone else — even a dog — the way they look at him. “…One dog,” he growls eventually. “But you’re all cleaning up after it. I’m not touching dog shit.”

When you come home:

There’s a huge, mean-looking mutt laying across the floor.

The kids are ecstatic.

The dog? Growls at Mark and only obeys the kids and you.

Mark crosses his arms, staring the dog down. “I’m watching you,” he mutters at the animal. The dog bares its teeth in something that almost looks like a grin.

Later that night, when the house is quiet, you find Mark in bed, one kid drooling on his chest, another curled at his side. Even the dog is snoozing at his feet. You slip under the covers beside him and murmur, “You did good, y’know.”

Mark grunts low in his throat but his hand slides over yours under the blankets, squeezing gently. He doesn’t say I love you out loud. He shows it — in every grudging sacrifice, every grumble, every protectively fierce glance at the people who mattered more to him than anything else.

MOHAWK MARK

Mark was the kind of dad who somehow made parenting look cool — but barely functional.

He wasn’t exactly “dad of the year” material — he cursed too much, roughhoused a little too hard, and definitely let the kids stay up past bedtime if it meant getting a few more minutes of playing video games or watching action movies together.

When you had to leave him alone with the kids for the day, he gave you a lazy, cocky grin, tossing one of the kids over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Yeah, yeah, babe, go do your thing. I got this,” he said, barely paying attention as the kids immediately started climbing the furniture behind him.

What actually happened while you were gone was complete fucking chaos. The living room was wrecked within thirty minutes — couch cushions everywhere, drawings all over the walls in crayon (and Sharpie — because of course Mark handed them the worst possible tool). One of the kids tried to make a “badass” fort and ended up knocking over a lamp. Mark didn’t even get mad; he laughed and told them to “make it cooler next time.”

He taught the toddler to say “badass” and gave the older kid a real fucking mohawk because “fuck it, why not?” There was a suspicious burn mark on the carpet from when he let them play “science experiments” in the kitchen, but he figured if it wasn’t actively on fire, it wasn’t a problem.

When the kids asked, “Dad, can we get a pet? Like… a shark?” Mark didn’t even blink.

“A shark? Hell yeah, that’s metal as fuck,” he said immediately, already pulling out his phone and looking up some shady black-market pet websites.

You came home hours later to find the house looking like a war zone. One kid was wearing sunglasses indoors, shirtless, and calling himself “Lil’ Mohawk.” Another one was skateboarding inside the kitchen. The baby was somehow naked except for a cape made out of a towel. And there was Mark — passed the fuck out on the couch, a half-empty juice box still dangling from his hand like it was a goddamn beer.

You snatched the juice box away, glaring at him, and he cracked one lazy eye open to smirk up at you.

“Relax, babe,” he rasped, voice low and rough. “Everyone’s alive. That’s a fuckin’ win.”

Later that night, after you finally put the kids to bed (threatening violence if necessary), you found him sprawled in bed, the kids tangled up all around him like puppies. He looked up at you, reached out one arm, and dragged you down onto the mattress with a tired grunt.

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” you whispered against his chest.

He chuckled against your hair, voice lazy and warm. “Yeah, but you married me, babe,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You, me… and the little badass monsters we made. Wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

PRISONER MARK

Mark never thought he’d have a family. Not after everything he’d been through — the fights, the chains, the walls he had to break down just to survive. He wasn’t made for softness. Wasn’t made for smiling.

But somehow, you convinced him otherwise.

Now he had little versions of himself running around the house, making noise, making messes, and making his heart ache in a way no scar or broken bone ever had.

When you left him alone with the kids for the day, Mark honestly panicked inside — but he didn’t let it show. He just gave you a tired nod and a low grunt of “I got ‘em.” He kissed your forehead, like you might not come back if he didn’t, and watched you leave with a tight chest. The second the door shut, the kids were on him — climbing him like a jungle gym.

He let them. Even when they traced the faded scars across his arms and chest with their tiny fingers. He just sat there, strong and silent, letting them explore him like he was some ancient war hero.

When they begged for a pet, Mark folded almost immediately. “Fuck… you want a dog?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “No, a big dog!” one kid insisted, arms stretched wide.

Mark chuckled low in his throat — a rough, broken sound that still somehow sounded like love. “Yeah? A big motherfucker, huh?” He ruffled their hair. “Alright. Big dog it is.”

He wasn’t good at games. He wasn’t good at tea parties or board games or puzzles. He was good at sitting there while they curled up against him. Good at carrying all three of them at once when they got too tired to walk. Good at telling stories — dark, thrilling stories about planets and battles and monsters who lost because they didn’t love enough.

When you came home, the living room looked like it had been hit by a slow, clumsy storm. Blankets and stuffed animals everywhere. The kids were knocked out cold in a pile on the couch, limbs tangled together.

And Mark… Mark was sitting on the floor in front of them, back against the couch, head tilted back, arms limp at his sides. Eyes half-open but soft, so fucking soft.

You crouched down in front of him, brushing his messy hair back from his forehead. “You look like you got your ass kicked,” you whispered.

Mark cracked a tired, crooked smile. “Fuckin’ did,” he rasped. “Worst beatin’ of my life.”

You kissed him then — slow, grateful — and he sighed into your mouth like he could finally breathe again.

Later that night, when he carried the kids to bed one by one, he lingered a little too long at each bedside, brushing their hair back, making sure they were breathing, making sure they were real. He wasn’t made for this life. But fuck it. He’d fight a thousand more wars if it meant keeping it.

OMNI MARK

Mark didn’t want a family at first. It was a distraction. A vulnerability. He had convinced himself of that for years. But you… you were the first thing that ever made him reconsider.

Now here he was, standing in the middle of a too-bright kitchen while your children screamed and fought and laughed, spilling cereal across the tile floors like tiny tornadoes. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, expression stoic as ever, like a general surveying a chaotic battlefield.

“Handle it, Mark,” you teased him sweetly as you grabbed your jacket, keys jingling. “You’re a Viltrumite. You can survive a few hours.”

He only grunted — a sound that might’ve been agreement, or just annoyance — and let you kiss his cheek. The door shut behind you, and it was just him and them.

He didn’t speak for a while. Just watched. Analyzing. Calculating. When one of the kids threw a whole cup of orange juice across the room, he caught it — casually, like he wasn’t even trying — and set it neatly back on the counter.

“Sit,” he commanded, voice even and sharp. They actually listened. Mark didn’t “play.” He didn’t make silly faces or build forts out of couch cushions. But he did teach.

He taught them discipline without raising a hand. He taught them to fly — hovering an inch off the ground while they giggled madly. He taught them strategy through games of chess and tactical puzzles. He corrected them the first time they whined or begged. He hated whining. “No,” he’d say coolly, staring them down with those hard eyes. “You earn things. You do not beg for them.”

And yet… When they clumsily clung to his leg, calling him “Daddy” or babbling nonsense about their day, something ugly and painful twisted deep in his chest. He’d clear his throat, tense his jaw — but he never shoved them away.

Instead, he allowed it. Quietly. Sometimes his hand would drift to pat their heads, stiff and awkward like he wasn’t sure he was doing it right.

When you came home, you found him sitting at the dining room table, both kids asleep — one in his lap, the other curled against his side.

You approached carefully, smiling. “I thought you didn’t want any distractions,” you whispered.

Mark met your eyes — cold, calculating, unreadable — and yet… His hand didn’t stop stroking the child’s hair. His arms didn’t loosen around the tiny body resting against him. “I adapted,” he said simply. “For them. For you.”

Later, as you tucked the kids into bed, he watched from the doorway. Silent. Hands behind his back, posture stiff.

And when you turned the lights off, sliding your arms around his waist, he whispered low enough that only you could hear: “If anyone ever tries to take this from me… I’ll destroy everything.”

VILTRUMITE MARK

Mark had always known he wanted a family with you. From the moment he claimed you as his, the idea of building something — someone — that was both him and you was burned into his very core.

So when you finally gave him children, he didn’t just step into the role of a father — he charged into it.

You left him alone with them once — just once — because you had to run to the market for food. He had stood at the doorway, arms crossed, as you kissed his cheek and warned: “Don’t roughhouse too much. They’re still little.” The second the door shut? It was game time.

“Alright, soldiers,” Mark growled playfully, crouching down to the twins’ level. His eyes gleamed — proud, wild, thrilled. “Today we train. If you can land a hit on me, you win.”

The twins — one boy, one girl — squealed with laughter and immediately charged at him. They were tiny fists and flying feet and untamed, clumsy strength. He pretended to stumble back dramatically when the little boy punched his shin, grunting like it actually hurt. “You’ve gotten stronger,” he teased.

When your daughter bit his wrist like a feral animal, he actually laughed, the sound loud and rough in his chest.

“Good instincts,” he said, ruffling her hair with one massive hand.

They spent the next hour “fighting” — mostly Mark letting himself be tackled and pinned and climbed like a jungle gym while pretending he was losing. Every time he looked at them, something ugly and possessive lit up behind his eyes. His children. His legacy.

By the time you came back, you found your living room completely destroyed — furniture overturned, blankets and pillows scattered like a battlefield. The twins were passed out cold, one sprawled across Mark’s chest, the other drooling on his stomach. He sat there cross-legged, arms draped lazily around them, a little bruised but smiling.

You stood in the doorway, hands on your hips. “Mark,” you said sternly.

He looked up at you, unbothered. “What?”

“You were supposed to watch them. Not turn the house into a warzone.”

“They’re fine,” he shrugged, leaning back. “Stronger, too.”

You sighed, stepping over the carnage to kiss his forehead. “You’re lucky they love you.”

Mark caught your hand before you could pull away, looking up at you with a rare, completely open expression. “No,” he murmured, voice rough. “I’m lucky you love me.”

Later, when you tucked the kids in bed, Mark hovered at the door — arms crossed, brow furrowed. “One day,” he muttered under his breath, “they’ll have to fight for real.”

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised. “Not for a long time,” you said gently.

Mark didn’t argue. But in his mind, he was already preparing them for the war he knew would come. And he would be damned if anything ever took them — or you — away from him.

FULL MASK MARK

Mark had always been a man of control, methodical in everything he did. But when it came to his children, he found himself in a strange position — one he hadn’t anticipated. Despite his imposing presence, the mask he wore, the intensity of his demeanor, there was something undeniable that shifted when he held his twins in his arms. Something different when he looked at them, a new kind of responsibility, one he could never turn away from.

You’d stepped out for a few hours, trusting Mark to manage the kids. At first, he stood in the doorway, silently observing the two little ones who had a new, strange energy that he wasn’t entirely used to. He’d spent years handling life-or-death situations, fighting across galaxies, but this — raising children — was different.

They were at the age where they explored everything with curious hands and loud voices. His son, a little boy who had inherited his stubborn streak, was already trying to climb up the furniture as if it were a battlefield. His daughter, quiet and observant, clung to her stuffed animal while watching her brother with a calculating gaze.

The living room was a mess. Toys scattered, blankets piled up from their game of “fort,” and the smell of something burning from the kitchen. Mark hadn’t expected to make breakfast or lunch for them, but when he turned around to see the microwave had been left on, he sighed. Great. He took the plate of charred pancakes and tossed it into the trash, realizing that maybe he wasn’t cut out for domestic work quite yet. But there was no option to back out.

His son climbed higher on the couch, and Mark’s eyes narrowed.

“Get down before you break something,” he commanded, his voice low and firm, but not angry. The boy froze, his foot still in mid-air. He had no fear of Mark, which irritated and pleased him all at once. He wasn’t sure how to react, but he definitely wasn’t about to let his son destroy the place either.

The boy dropped down with a soft grunt. “I want to jump on the couch.”

Mark glanced at him, then at the empty space in the living room. He didn’t get it. Why did they feel the need to do things that weren’t necessary? His instincts said to keep them in line, to maintain discipline. But… something stopped him. He didn’t know how to explain it, but a part of him wanted them to be happy. To feel safe. He wasn’t quite sure how to do it, but for the first time, he wanted to try.

You called just as he was about to stand, and he answered in his usual deadpan way, though there was a trace of exhaustion in his voice.

“They’re fine,” he said, keeping his tone neutral. “I’ve kept them from setting the house on fire.”

You chuckled on the other end, relieved. “Good. What about lunch?”

Mark glanced at the kids, who were already eyeing the empty plates on the table.

“I’ll… feed them,” he grumbled, clearly less than thrilled by the prospect. But he did it anyway. He took out the ingredients for sandwiches and worked quickly, glancing back to make sure the kids weren’t running riot again. The boy grabbed a plastic knife and tried to “cut” the bread, but the blade wasn’t sharp enough.

Mark moved over to the boy and gently took the knife from his hand, carefully guiding his movements. The boy looked up at him, curiosity lighting up his eyes, then nodded with a little, “Thanks, Daddy.”

The word Daddy hit Mark harder than expected. It made something in his chest tighten, but he couldn’t quite explain why. His eyes soften.

“Sit down,” he ordered, his voice softer than it had been moments ago.

The twins sat at the table, waiting for their food. Mark finished assembling the sandwiches and placed them in front of the kids. The boy picked up his sandwich and took a huge bite, spilling crumbs everywhere. The girl, ever so composed, took her time, nibbling at the corner of her sandwich, occasionally looking up at Mark. “You’re a good father,” you said when you called back to check in, as if reading his mind.

Mark didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t need to. Instead, he looked over at the twins, then back at the phone. “I’m doing what I have to.”

He didn’t need praise. He didn’t need acknowledgment. But there was a part of him that felt something stir inside him — a strange pride he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just a soldier, an enforcer of rules. He was a father. And this was something he would protect with everything in him.

Later, when you came home, you found Mark sitting in the same spot, with the twins sprawled across the couch, their tiny hands gripping the cushions. Mark was sitting still, his arms resting on his knees, but his gaze was soft. He wasn’t the same Mark he was before. The man who once cared only about power, control, and his missions — now, he was a father. The twins had a way of softening him, grounding him. It didn’t mean he’d let his guard down completely, but for them? For his family?

Mark would go to the ends of the Earth and back. Even if it meant figuring out how to deal with tantrums, snacks, and accidental burns from the microwave. But in the end, he knew one thing for sure: he was going to do whatever it took to make sure they were safe. And loved. Even if he had to learn how to be soft.

[consistantly-changing]

[Image descriptions in order: a Reddit post titled "AITAH for “training” a guy "like a dog"?" The post says "I (23F) have recently started seeing this guy (26M). he's super pretty, but he's kind of emotionally unavailable and he's alluded to an unstable/unhealthy childhood.

for context, i also work w socializing abused and neglected dogs at a local shelter and i think how much time i spend w the dogs is impacting the way i interact w ppl.

when we were on a date i started subconsciously making mental notes abt him like the notes id make abt a dog. for example, i noticed when we went out to dinner i noticed he ate really quickly and was very anti-sharing (resource guarding) but when i offered to pay and suggested dessert it seemed to make him really happy and a little calmer (food-motivated); he's really particular about his car (territorial/crate aggression); he likes when i pick where we go/what we do (eager to please), etc. so, ive started using the tactics id use on a dog w similar problems.

recently a friend (22F) pointed out that it's weird that i keep peanut M&Ms on me w the specific purpose of offering the guy one when i see him, and offering them again whenever i can tell he feels vulnerable. she said that im being an asshole bc he's a person, not a dog so i shouldn't be “training him like one.”

i don't think that's fair, im not trying to control him or anything, i just want him to feel comfortable w me the same way i need the animals im helping to be comfortable w me. humans and animals aren't THAT diff after all, we all just want to feel safe and cared for. the guy hasn't noticed yet as far as i can tell. the problem is, my “technique” is yielding really positive results.

AITAH? should i stop?"]

[Two screenshots of an update post or edit, which say, "UPDATES/ CLARIFICATIONS

for everyone asking me if i've seen the big bang theory ep w this plotline: i have not

for everyone saying they think i am autistic: probably, yeah. i haven't been tested but maybe i should

i do not have loose m&ms in my pocket bc then they'd get all melty and gross — i keep them in a bag in my purse

ik the title was clickbait-y so i want to make some things clear. i didn't think of it as “training" til my friend said it was like i was training him, and that made me feel weird (and it's why i made the post)

i am not and never have been trying to "modify" behavior. what i noticed in him and what i notice in animals were stress responses. we only get aggressive over our food if we believe someone's gonna take it away. we get defensive over our spaces if we reasonably feel like they'll be violated. applies to both animals and ppl. i was trying to establish trust the way i best know how to lol

if he never shared fries and never wanted to park next to a car w wide doors again, that'd be fine w me tbh. i know he's not a dog, so he's not at risk of being euthanized or something]

["ON TO THE UPDATE PROPER YAY!

so, to all the ppl who told me i should tell him what im doing — you were right and that's what i did. turns out i was VERY WRONG abt him not noticing what i was doing — he apparently put two and two together pretty quickly after i started doing it. he didn't tell me he was on to me tho, bc he liked it and was worried id get embarrassed and stop if i knew that he knew. so we talked it out and it ended up not being a very big deal at all and im probably gonna keep having m&ms bc they're good. that's all i got for yall lol"]

sickens me to my stomach. how dare this guy get to live my dream.

[seaborgium-dazies]

bro ive been fixating on ur walking in on denki masturbating fic for DAYS pleaseeee a p2 on that ☹️☹️🙏🙏

I bet you never had a Friday night like this♡ mdni

AYYYEEEEE that high-key means so much to me 🤭 The feared video game weekend is approaching 😋 and things are about to get messy - denki lovers unite! pt.2 to this fic cw: miscommunication, angst in the beginning, you and denki both being avoidant and afraid, wingman!deku, oral sex f!receiving, fingering, denki with a tongue piercing, pet name (sweetheart)

If there was something denki really didn't know how to deal with it was awkwardness. That gut wrenching bone crushing awkwardness. The type that makes you stare at a wall and burn hot under other peoples gazes. The type that makes your body feel foreign and guilt seep out of your pores.

And by all means the whole class was staring at him. And you. It's no wonder, really. One Thursday morning like every other came and you two suddenly avoided each other like the plague? No more interlocked limbs or disturbing class with loud laughter and dirty jokes? How could they not wonder what transpired?

The air felt thick with murmurs but as long as people wouldn't outright ask you what had happened you figured you'd be fine. Panic was burning in your chest, the words you said on repeat in your mind as you eyed the back of denkis head.

Minutes seemed to stretch into hours, your tongue growing thick with unsaid words; threatening to close your throat. But what could you even say? You had given him some high risk honesty and apologizing for that didn't feel right.

You buried your head in your hands and sighed in frustration when the bell finally rang. Denki watched you bolt past him, not even bothering to put your things away. No, you ran out of the classroom with your notes and pens in hand.

"I fucked up that bad, huh.", the words shot through denkis mind.

Words of self deprecation had been echoing in denkis head ever since he came down from his high to an empty room and a Kleenex full of cum. He felt like sobbing when he remembered what happened. The music coming from his sound system made him want to sob.

You told me, "Think about it," well, I did

Now I don't wanna feel a thing anymore

Just how much of a fuck up could he be? How was he able to ruin the one good thing in his life?! Why did he?! Why?!

And before denki knew it tears were cascading down his face. But who was he to fight them, he already did the most pathetic thing ever so why not cry in cum stained sheets?

He kept thinking back to your face when you walked in, that twitch of your eyebrows that he never saw before and the look of pity near the end, he just wanted to forget it ever happened. Fragments of his memory were already slipping away or maybe he was exiling them.

When the memory sneaks up on him he physically cringes, a painful ringing replacing any words you had said. And to make matters worse the snacks he bought yesterday were practically mocking him.

Denki let out a shuddering breath as he examined the sour gummy worms. He wants to apologize to you, for everything, but how could he? You were avoiding him and he's pretty sure that he couldn't even meet your eye if he stood in front of you.

Still there was a dull ache in his chest and the unignorable desire to talk to you like he did just one day ago. He just couldn't believe that he fumbled his crush even before he even tried to pull a move. Typical.

But whatever.

Denki shook his head, tried to puff out his chest and thought to himself that it's okay. Yes, losing the most important person in his life made him want to go to sleep and never wake up again. And it truly didn't feel like it was okay, but there's nothing else for him to do. He would try to get over it on the weekend or think of a proper apology or maybe just go take a bath while using his quirk-

He tried to push the negative thoughts away and just get through the day. Friday's schedule was shorter than every other day so it shouldn't be too hard.

Minutes turned to hours turned to a successful survival attempt. This time denki was the one to bolt. His sneakers were threatening to fall apart under the brutal pace he set but it didn't matter to him one bit.

You felt like your knees were about to give out. There went your chance to set things straight. You sighed deeply and went to your dorm defeated.

A couple hours later you heard a quick knock. Your heart was already beating wildly - much to your letdown Midoriya was standing in front of your dorm. Your next door neighbor seemed as happy-go-lucky as ever. You scoffed internally, you really hoped for it to be denki.

"Hi y/n!"

"Hey, what's up?"

You cocked an eyebrow at the stack of manga he was holding.

"These are denkis! I was gonna go return them to him now"

"Oh..."

Suddenly you felt sick-

"D-do you want me to give them to him or ?"

"Oh no, sorry! You guys invited me to your hangout? On Monday during lunch? It's okay if you forgot, I don't have to come, it's no biggie!-"

"Ah, yes! Of course! No, of course I didn't forget, let me just grab my things and let's get going."

You shot deku a quick smile but internally you were going off the rails. Had he really not noticed? Should you say something? But before you knew it you had gathered everything necessary and you both took your leave.

Denki was staring at the ceiling as he heard a firm knock. It couldn't be, could it?! Denki jumped up at the sound and immediately ran to get the door. He wiped his sweaty hands on the side of his pants before preparing himself mentally-

"Midoriya?"

"Hi!"

The disappointment in denkis voice was unmistakable until he spotted you too.

"Oh y/n, hi"

"Hey"

Moments passed without a word said, yours and denkis gaze meeting for the first time in days. Deku cleared his throat which put an end to your emotionally confusing staring contest.

"Uhm come in, come in"

Deku returned denkis manga and skillfully established an easygoing conversation between the three of you. Sadly he announced his departure all too soon, the tension returning to the situation when deku was absent.

"Uhm, so do you wanna play a little?"

You tore Denki out of his downward spiral and he gave you an all too familiar smirk.

"You're on"

Hours passed and you two were back in familiar waters - teasing, bickering and even an accidental hand brush that made you both gasp. Rounds of Mario kart over new monster flavors were able to bring a genuine smile to your face after what felt like years of sadness.

You were lazing on his couch as he was replaying Breath of the wild, the sun long gone by now. Your eyes felt heavy but your heart was content with having returned to normalcy. Even if you never spoke about the incident, you'd be happy like this.

"I'm sorry about Wednesday"

Denkis beaten down voice tore you from your dozing; you cocked your eyebrow.

"What? Why??", genuine surprise dripped off of your voice.

"I know I shouldn't have lied about not knowing where your CD was and I know I especially shouldn't have done anything shameful while listening to it it's not honest and I don't want you to think I'm any type of sleaze and I know it's unacceptable and really I will never do anything like that again-"

"Denki, I already told you not to worry about that" your voice was incredibly gentle as if not to startle him. Denki stops mid rant

"Wait, you did?"

"Yeah... don't you remember?"

"N...o?"

You couldn't help but blush. Your voice trailed off as you reiterated,

"I told you that it's a normal part of life and you shouldn't be ashamed..."

Now it was denkis turn to be confused

"Wait, but why have you acting so distant this week then?!"

You almost spit out the sip of monster you took.

"UHM?! You've been distant too?!"

"Okay but still, did you say anything else?"

"Well you really don't remember what I said?

"No??"

At this point denki is dying to know what you said but you saw the opening of your life. You saw the perfect opportunity to erase your peeping pervert moment from history. You were metaphorically washing yourself clean as you said

"Well that was actually everything. But I'm glad we talked it through. I'm low-key tired though, let's go to sleep"

Denki agreed and although he felt better to have gotten that off of his chest he still felt as if there was a piece missing from the puzzle.

You were both laying comfortably now, listening to the soft buzzing of his mini fridge. You could practically hear denkis thoughts at a hundred miles per hour when he sat up and shouted

"YOU SAID I LOOKED HOT?!"

He hastily turned the light on, the half drunken monsters still on the floor next to his consoles.

You tried to hide behind your hands, to no avail.

"yeah"

Your voice was impossibly small, the shame radiating off of you. But denki for one thought it was refreshing seeing someone else be ashamed for once.

"And you looked at me, didn't you?"

Denkis newfound smugness made you cringe.

"Well I don't think that's fair"

"no it really isn't and I'm sorry denki... I know I shouldn't have invaded your privacy like that and-"

You were busy explaining yourself behind your hand-shield and didn't see denki inching closer. Suddenly you felt his warm hands on yours, pulling them from your face.

"Wha-"

"Don't hide."

Your cheeks started turning crimson as his hands stayed on yours. All words seemed to be sucked out of your brain.

"I don't think it's fair-"

"Yeah you said that already-"

"That you saw me naked but I didn't see you naked"

Denkis words knocked the air out of your lungs. Did he really just?! And while your lips parted in shock he moved closer, placing his soft lips on yours.

Lips caressing and tongues melting into one another soon turned into impatient hands and sparks flying.

When denki pulled away from you his pupils were blown out and a string of saliva connected your lips.

"So? What do you say?"

Denkis words came back to you full force now. He wanted to see you naked? Your crush basically just kissed you and confessed to liking you too and now he wanted to see you naked?!

You let out a shuddering breath and with a nod you saw a gentle smile spreading across denkis lips that you knew was only reserved for you.

Before you knew it he was in his boxer shorts and you laid before him, fully exposed. He settled between your legs and gently pulled them apart.

Denki couldn't help but groan at the sight of your glistening folds, your cunt betraying just how much you wanted him.

"Can I?"

You nodded fervently and denki dove right in. His tongue met your swollen clit and you cried out. The cool metal of his piercing dragged along your walls as you clenched around nothing.

"Greedy, aren't we?"

Denkis taunting words sent a shiver down your spine and when he pressed the tip of his finger into your pussy you audibly gasped.

"denki-"

"What's the matter sweetheart?"

"S'much"

Denki felt pride blooming in his chest when he heard your slurred words. He marveled at the effect his tongue had on you as he began sucking on your clit. His fingers went faster and your cries of pleasure intensified.

You gripped and pulled his hair in an attempt to stay as sane as possible which earned you a moan vibrating through your core.

"Aaaah~ fuck!"

Denki lapped at your clit and folds for what felt like hours. Broad stripes to kitten licks to sucking on your clit again. He really knew how to make you lose your mind. And with a final cry the knot in your stomach snapped and ecstacy coursed through your veins.

Coming down from your high was intense but seeing denki grinning down at you with your arousal coating the bottom half of his face made your heart flutter.

Of course he cleaned you up, helped you get dressed and settled next to you in bed. And just as your cuddling bodies melted into one you whispered a reference he immediately understood.

"I bet you never had a Friday night like this."

Denki replied, "Keep it up, keep it up" while pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

And as you were falling asleep both of you were thanking your lucky stars.

Buy me a coffee? <3

©️ seaborgium-dazies 2025

Leave some love, reblogs and comments dearly appreciated. Thank you for reading!

[lovetommyactually]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything… Nice.

BuckTommy, WC: 1.2k, post 8x15, cw: canon mcd, grief Ι below or on ao3

"Shit—!!"

That was the first thing Buck heard when he entered his house after a long shift, followed by something crashing.

"Shit, oh god, shi—"

A rush of anxiety washed over him. He dropped his bag and rushed to where the voice was coming from—the kitchen.

He shoved the door open, heart pounding—and there was Tommy, frozen mid-disaster, flour everywhere, a tray half on the floor, guilt painted all over his face.

"oh, h-hi, Evan, I'm sorry," Tommy muttered, embarrassed. "I was gonna make dinner, which I… didn’t make..."

"You... baked?" Buck said, breathless, staring.

"Uh..." Tommy looked wildly around the destroyed kitchen.

Buck barely had time to process it before he noticed Tommy cradling his hand, the skin red and angry.

He moved without thinking, crossing the kitchen in two steps. His hands were careful as he grabbed Tommy’s wrist.

"You idiot," Buck muttered, not unkindly. His voice was rough, like he was trying not to cry or yell, or both. “You didn’t use the mitt. Again!”

Tommy winced but didn’t pull away. He let Buck guide him to the sink, cool water rushing over the burn.

"I’m fine," Tommy said too quickly, too defensively.

Buck didn’t argue. He never did, when Tommy lied like that.

A minute later, Buck was rummaging through the drawer for the first aid kit, his hands steady even as his shoulders trembled. He dabbed ointment on Tommy’s skin, wrapped it gently with gauze.

Only when he finished did Tommy notice Buck’s eyes were glassy, his breathing uneven.

Tommy shifted awkwardly, voice low. "I, um, I just... I found all this," he said, nodding toward the flour, the sugar, a bag of chocolate chips, half spilled across the counter. "Thought it might cheer you up. I didn’t mean to wreck your kitchen, sorry."

Buck let out a wet laugh, pressing the gauze down just a little more securely. "You didn’t wreck it."

Tommy’s heart twisted. "I-I'm sorry you just came home tired. You must be hungry. I promised you dinner." He sighed, shame curling around his words. "I'll just... I'll order us some Chinese, okay?"

Buck nodded—but a tear slipped down his cheek anyway.

One hand wiped it away quickly. The other still clutched Tommy’s burnt hand like a lifeline.

Tommy hesitated. "Hey... are you—" He caught himself before finishing the question. Dumb question. Of course Buck wasn’t okay. It had barely been a month since Bobby died. Instead, he asked softly, "Was your shift good? Did... something happen?"

Buck shook his head, barely murmured, "mm'no, t'was fine."

Tommy nodded, swallowing hard. "G-good. Is it about... Bobby?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted it instantly. Idiot, he scolded himself. Idiot, idiot, idiot—

Buck shook his head again—but this time he laughed, a broken, wet sound, clutching Tommy’s hand tighter.

"No. No, I mean—" He sniffled. "It'll always be about Bobby. But—"

Buck looked up at him, eyes shining. "You know... we never really t-talked. About���about us."

Tommy's stomach dropped. His mouth opened, about to make some stupid joke to deflect, but Buck beat him to it—his voice cracking in the middle of his words

"You—" Buck croaked, wiping at his face. "I want to tell you things. A-and I need you to tell me things. We... we can’t just jump back in."

He hesitated, breath catching like he was afraid to even ask.

"We were, right? G-getting back together?"

Tommy nodded—quick, almost frantic.

Buck let out a shaky breath, eyes shining.

"You know I started baking after... after we broke up, right?" he said, voice barely above a whisper. "It was the only thing that stopped me from calling you. Over and over."

Tommy blinked, frozen. He hadn’t known. Not really. But somehow it made perfect sense.

"I thought it was dumb," Buck said, laughing weakly. "But B-Bobby… he told me it wasn’t. Said it's good to have a coping skill to deal with cravings."

Buck wiped his nose on his sleeve, sniffed, and added, voice even rougher "He also told me... that you're good for me, Tommy."

He peeked up at Tommy through his lashes, the tiniest flutter—shy, unsure—and Tommy felt something inside him snap, splintering into pieces.

Tommy swayed where he stood. That night—the night Bobby died—had been the worst Tommy had ever seen Buck.

Even after holding him through the breakdowns, the sleepless nights, the sobs so heavy they nearly crushed him, this was the most heartbreaking thing Tommy had seen since that night

Like buck was betrayed..

Like Tommy had proved Bobby wrong.

Tommy barely managed to whisper, "I'm sorry."

Buck shook his head immediately, clutching Tommy’s hand tighter. "No, Tommy. He was right. Y-You are. You’re so good for me."

He gestured loosely toward the kitchen—the chaos, the burnt batch of cookies, the counter buried in flour, the sugar and flour stuck in Tommy’s hair.

"I mean, look at this mess. You did all this just trying to cheer me up," Buck said, huffing a laugh that broke apart halfway into a sob. "You tried to bake for me. You have no idea how much that means. How... unexpectedly it's making me happy."

Tommy didn’t know what to say. His throat closed up, a lump he couldn’t swallow down.

So he didn’t say anything.

He just let Buck lean into him, let their foreheads touch, let the flour dust cling to them like hope clinging stubbornly between them.

"I want you to stay, Tommy," Buck whispered, voice shaking. "Will you? Stay?"

Tommy frowned softly. "Yeah, Evan. I'm not going anywhere."

Buck shook his head. "No, Tommy. I mean... forever."

Tommy closed his eyes. Oh… yes.

He had already decided that. He never wanted to leave again.

He leaned in and kissed Buck—slow, soft, like a vow. "As I said, Evan, I'm not going anywhere."

Buck smiled through his tears and nodded. "Good. Cause w-we still need to talk… about us."

He glanced at the kitchen again—a burnt batch of cookies, an overmixed second disaster, flour covering the counters and sticking to Tommy’s hair.

This ridiculous chaos Tommy had made just trying to make him smile.

And maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the grief. But Buck felt something tug deep in his chest again—the warm, aching knowledge that Tommy was still here. Still trying. For him.

Buck leaned in, grabbed a cookie, and bravely took a bite.

Immediately, he gagged, coughing and grimacing as he set it down. He turned to Tommy, scandalized.

"Did you put salt in this!?"

Tommy glanced guiltily at the crumpled recipe on the counter.

"I knew that was a bad recipe," he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "It was in the recipe, Evan!"

"A pinch!" Buck sputtered. "You put—what—a whole spoon??"

“Uh… maybe? I-I panicked?” Tommy snorted, finally breaking into a helpless laugh.

Buck shook his head, laughing too, even as tears still clung stubbornly to his lashes, “Maybe we should clean up here first. And you're not allowed to bake ever again."

"Fair," he said, wiping Buck’s cheek where a smudge of flour had landed. "Fair enough."

Tommy just smiled, relieved, letting Buck pull him closer.

Maybe the kitchen was a mess.

Maybe they were a mess.

But for the first time in a long, long while

Tommy thought maybe they could clean it all up together.

[clairewritesfanfics]

No Goggles!Mark Grayson Origin Part 4

Pairing: No Goggles!Invincible x Older!Reader

Part 3

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Unplanned pregnancy, descriptions of bodily harm, mild swearing, No Goggles is a little freak

When the first test came out positive, you stayed calm. False positives were a thing.

You barely slept as required and your job left you stressed every waking moment, so your period was often irregular, but when you started dating Mark, who was insatiable to say the least, you took a pregnancy test every time your period was late. Every test turned out negative or a false alarm. 

For false alarms, you simply needed to recheck and everything would be fine. But not this time. No. Every single stick said the same thing: you were pregnant. 

Logically, you knew this was possible. Despite all your efforts–condoms, sponges, injections, timing–everything short of surgery and an IUD, nothing was 100% effective. 

You didn’t know what to feel at first. Shock, fear, anxiety, terror. Not exactly what expecting mothers should be feeling. 

You remembered crying. You cried a lot. You were grateful that Mark was out for a multi-day mission with the others when you first confirmed the pregnancy.

He needed to know, it was his right, but… He wasn’t even a college graduate, for God’s sake. He was also a “teen” superhero on the cusp of getting promoted. He already dedicated so much of his time to you. Hell, he never went to parties or hangouts with his classmates or teammates unless you insisted, and even then he would return two hours after leaving you.

He said he was happy, he said he loved you, and you believed him, truly. That’s why you couldn’t be the woman who ruined his future.

After you broke up with Mark and he accidentally fractured your wrist, you spent a good five hours weeping on the floor before pulling yourself together and going to the hospital.

“Hey, you, I thought you had the day off?” 

Of course, it had to be him. The friendly jerk. What was his name again?

You glanced at his nametag. Josh. 

“I did,” you answered quietly.

“Then why–what the hell?”

“It’s not a big deal. I just needed to get this checked.”

He went from flirty to professional in an instant. He unrolled the recklessly done bandages and narrowed his eyes at the injury. 

One x-ray and an excruciating re-alignment later, he finally asked while you two were alone, “Wanna tell me what happened? And don’t say something stupid like you fell down the stairs. We both know this was something else.” 

You stared at your cast. Then you turned to him with a blank face. “I’m thirsty.” 

He looked at you like you grew a second head, but followed you to the bar across the street.

“Seriously?” He watched you stir your milkshake with a paper straw. “You really hate booze that much?”

“I can’t drink alcohol right now.”

“Why?” He picked up his pint. “Are you pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Beer squirted through his nostrils and he lurched over the counter, coughing. 

The bartender handed him a pile of tissues while you sipped on your drink. 

“I figured– ack –I figured you had something serious going on considering how mopey you’ve been, but I didn’t expect this.” He wiped the bar counter and without looking at you, he asked, “Did the father do that to you?”

“Actually, he doesn’t know.”

“The father… is he the boy toy–I mean, your boyfriend? But I thought he was still in college?”

You said nothing.

“Ah.” He sighed and went back to his pint. “That sucks.” 

You stirred the milkshake again. 

“Are you going to tell him?”

Again, you said nothing.

“You know he has the right to know, don’t you?”

“I know.”

“Are you going to keep them?”

You stopped stirring, your vision blurred. “I don’t know.”

“Crap, I’m sorry, don’t cry.” He picked up the remaining tissues and handed them to you. “I’m sorry I called him your boy toy.”

“It’s fine. Not like you’re the first to call him that.”

“Still, I’m sorry.”

“...Thanks.”

“What’re you gonna do now?”

You shrugged. “Maybe move.” 

“You can’t run away. He’s young, but he’s still the father. He deserves to know.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I just… I think I just needed someone to say it out loud.” You let out a big sigh. “I shouldn’t have pushed him away.”

Josh watched you for a few seconds before reaching into his satchel. He uncapped a black marker. “Give me your arm.”

You let him write on your cast.

“‘ Shake it off’ ?” You gave him a look of incredulity. 

It was his turn to shrug. “Well, I don’t think a bible verse would fit.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you laughed. It was so stupid. “Thanks.”

“No problem. It’s getting late. I’ll drive you home, and don’t refuse.”

You accepted his offer. The drive home was quick and you thanked him again as you got out of the car.

“Hey.” He leaned over the passenger seat. “It’s gonna be fine. Just talk to him before you decide on anything else.”

“It may be too late for that.”

“You’ve always been the logical one in our team. Don’t start being stupid now.”

“You realize that I’m technically your superior, right?” 

He winked and you shut the door.

He was right. 

Feeling much better, you breathed in the evening air, unaware of the pair of eyes observing you from afar.

***

Mark hasn’t been picking up your calls. Understandable. You did ask for this. In the past, he’d pick up at the first ring, and now you knew how he felt when you missed his calls. 

You put a hand over your belly. 

After that talk with Josh, you made up your mind. You were going to be a mom. Mark would be free to be as involved as he wanted. That is if you got him to talk to you.

He didn’t open the door when you reached his apartment and you really didn’t want to speak with Nolan. He might’ve been polite but he always looked at you with a chilly regard. 

“Desperate times,” you muttered, scrolling through your list of contacts. “Hello? Donald? It’s me, I hope I’m not disturbing–”

Static and the sound of panicked panting interrupted your words. Donald called out your name, out of breath and in distress. “Thank God! We were about to call you!”

Your shoulders tensed. “What’s going on?”

“It’s–”

The line was cut off.

“Hello? Hello?! Donald?!” You redialed but there was no ring. Suddenly, you tumbled into the wall as the whole building shook. Several apartment doors flung open and dozens of residents ran out screaming.

Your pager beeped. It was the hospital. 

Forcing yourself to your feet, you followed the stream of civilians down the emergency exit. 

By the time you got outside, the neighborhood–no, the whole city was in chaos. The roads were cracked, revealing broken pipes that flooded the streets with filthy gray water. A line of buildings was bright red as tall, angry flames licked the sky and filled it with smoke. A signal tower from a few blocks away was bent at the tip. You could hear sirens and shouting everywhere.

Shit.

You needed to get to the hospital ASAP. This disaster meant they were going to need every pair of hands available, though your wrist was still in a splint, you knew a bunch of fresh graduates who would require a more experienced doctor to guide them.

But before that…

You surveyed the scene. There was a little boy whose arm was bleeding. An old woman was on her knees, her whole form was heaving, struggling to breathe. There were more injured civilians. 

A policeman ran towards you. “Miss, you need to leave now!”

You searched inside your purse and clipped your hospital ID on the collar of your shirt. “I’m fine, prioritize escorting the others first. I’m going to help with the injured.”

Two ambulances arrived. One of them had Josh on board. If he was curious about your presence in the area he didn’t voice it. 

“Any idea what caused this?” You asked, pushing back any stray hairs that could interfere with your job and shoving them under a haircap. 

“At first we thought it was an earthquake, but we caught Omni-Man and Invincible flying around so we think it might be a villain attack.”

Mark.

You pushed that thought away. You couldn’t afford to be emotional right now.

“I’ve never dealt with this level of catastrophe before,” Josh admitted. 

Understandable. He was originally from a small town before he came to this city, which was villain central.

“Consider this your baptism.” You then split up and went to work. You couldn’t exactly put back bones together or stitch up wounds, but you helped ground the new hires who have never dealt with emergencies before.

Once you were done with the patients in the neighborhood, you went with the ambulance back to the hospital.

Checking for vitals, overseeing transfers, calming down delirious patients, worried family members and nervous young doctors left you exhausted to the point that even your boss had to ask you to take a break.

“You should get some rest, we’ll take it from here,” Josh said as you two headed for the vending machine.

“I guess.”

“Wow. I expected more resistance.”

“I’m not a workaholic.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He caught you by the elbows when you began to lose balance. “Are you–”

“I’ll be fine, I just… need a moment.”

He let go. “Go home, doctor.” 

You sighed. There was no point in arguing.

You were already on your way to the elevator when your phone rang. 

“Donald?”

“Finally, I’ve been trying to contact you for hours.”

“I had to set my phone to airplane mode. What happened?”

“It’s Mark.”

Your shoulders tensed. 

“He’s in surgery.”

“What?”

“We need you at the base.”

You gritted your teeth. “I’m on my way.”

With the roads all ripped up, the ride to the GDA base was excruciatingly slow.

When you arrived at the building, no introductions were necessary, the guards brought you to Cecil and Donald immediately. 

They were standing outside giant window panes that started from the floor and reached all the way to the ceiling.

“Where is he? Is he okay? What happened?”

“Easy, doc.” Cecil raised his palm placatingly, then he gestured towards the window.

You peered through and saw Mark unconscious and surely bare naked under the white cloth that covered him from his chest to his knees. He wore an oxygen mask so at least you knew he was still alive.

Donald began to explain, “We’re not too sure about the details… but from what we’ve seen, he and Omni-Man got into a fight. A big one.”

“Nolan did this to him? His own son?”

Donald could only offer a look of helplessness.

You touched the glass. “Where is he now?”

“We don’t know,” Cecil replied. “We lost track of him when they flew past Earth’s atmosphere.”

“What’s Mark’s status?”

Donald gave you his datapad. You scrolled through the patient history, each line was a stab at your heart.

He had multiple hairline fractures, torn muscles everywhere, eight bruised ribs, both eyes were inflamed, and he was missing several teeth.

“Here.” Someone offered you a handkerchief.

You lifted your chin and saw Cecil looking at you, face blank.

You gratefully took the cloth and wiped your tears. “I’m staying by his side.”

“We figured as much. We’ll move him to a more private room. Donald will take you there.”

“Thank you.”

“By the way.” Cecil stopped you before you could walk away. He stood still, only staring at you, like he wasn’t sure of what to say. 

You were growing impatient. “What is it?” 

“Are you and Mark okay?”

Your fingers twitched. Even someone like Josh noticed how Mark became absent the past few months. Cecil was Cecil so he probably knew of your… relationship problems. 

You took a moment to answer. “We hit a rough patch.”

“But you’re still together, aren’t you?” 

“No offense, Cecil, but that’s not any of your business.”

“I’m sorry, but it is, considering that Mark is one of our most valuable weapons. The state of your relationship tends to influence how he works.”

Rage filled your stomach and you stepped forward, pointing an accusatory finger towards his chest. “ How dare you. Mark is not a weapon, he is a living, breathing human being, a person who has dedicated most of his life protecting you and me and everybody else on this godforsaken planet. You don’t get to treat him as some kind of tool that needs to be controlled and monitored.” 

He narrowed his eyes. For a moment, he looked ready to argue, but instead he shook his head and turned his back to you. “Go. He’s gonna need someone when he wakes up.”

Donald didn’t say anything, which you appreciated. 

Once you were left alone with the love of your life, you allowed the rest of your tears to fall as you sat beside him, holding his hand in yours. With nothing but the hum of the AC and the steady rhythm of Mark’s heart to keep you company, you took in your lover’s appearance. You read Mark’s file, but nothing could have ever prepared you for seeing him like this.

His face was nearly unrecognizable. His chest heaved with every breath.

Over the years, you learned to steel your nerves as you got used to seeing bodies mangled and shredded. But you weren’t the doctor here, you were the patient’s family. 

You put a hand over to his cheek, your knuckles feathered over the cut swollen skin. 

He stirred.

Then he groaned softly as he woke up, turning his head. It took him a while to adjust to the light, but when he finally became aware, his bed rattled as he shot to a sitting position.

“Careful!” You put your hands over his shoulders. “You’re injured, stay down.”

He stilled under your touch and turned to you. You resisted the urge to fidget under his stare.

“Why are you here?”

You tried not to flinch at the venom in his voice. Mark’s never talked to you like this before, but you would gladly receive his anger.

“Donald called me. He said you were in surgery.”

“Why?”

“Mark–”

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me.”

You deserved that.

“I don’t need your pity.” He swung his head to the other side, glaring at the heart monitor.

“You can be angry, but please look at me.”

A beat. Then he reluctantly raised his swollen eyes to meet yours. 

You refused to break down. You needed to be strong for him. So you gulped down the lump in your throat and cradled his face between your palms. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

You smiled thinly. “I figured.” 

His lips twitched. “Dad…held my face against a train.”

“Fuck.”

He bent forward, chuckling, but his laugh was soon covered by a groan of pain. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Instead of answering, he stared at you intently, like he was drinking every last detail of you. “Are you really here?”

That took you by surprise.

He reached over, his thumb ghosting over your lips. “Or am I dreaming again?”

And just like, you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You pulled back, your hands covering your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the whimpers. 

“I’m sorry, Mark, I’m sorry.”

He watched as you swallowed down your sobs and breathed. 

You straightened your back, trying to compose yourself. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

He was silent. His expression was unreadable.

You looked down at your lap. “I… I should’ve been more upfront. Should’ve told you from the beginning.”

“I know.”

Your whole body froze. He knows? 

You raised your chin and nearly jumped. His gaze wasn’t full of understanding but something dangerous, something dark and cold. 

“You cheated on me,” he said matter-of-factly. 

Your brain crashed. But it quickly rebooted and you shook your head furiously. “No! What… no! I would never do that to you.”

“You don’t have to lie, I saw you. What was his name? Jacob or something? I saw you in his car.”

You clenched your fists, desperate now. “He just gave me a ride home, that’s it.”

“From a bar.”

How did he… 

It doesn’t matter.

You grabbed his hand. “Mark, listen to me. I have never, ever cheated on you. I’ve never even so much as entertained the idea of doing that. Ever . You were–are the only one for me.”

He blinked, expression breaking for a moment before he grinned sardonically. “Then why did you break up with me? And why have you, who has never been the type to drink after work, decided to go to a bar with a man you barely know?”

“Because I’m pregnant, you idiot!” You wanted to smack your own face. “Sorry, no, that’s not right. You’re not an idiot. I didn’t mean that. Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

It was Mark’s turn to crash. The darkness broke completely, leaving him wide-eyed and his jaw ajar. He gulped slowly.

“You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“With my kid?”

“With our kid.”

Several heartbeats passed. 

Mark ran his fingers through his hair.

You rubbed your arms. You two haven’t talked about having a family before, not really, because you were busy with your job and Mark was busy being a superhero, and just as importantly, being a college student. Life was good. You were both happy. Talks of the future were limited to what you two wanted for dinner next Thursday or who was going to plan date night next. You discussed marriage–well, he mentioned marriage every now and then–even only in passing, but never brought up children. 

“I don’t want you to feel pressured. We didn’t plan for this.” You chose each word carefully as you put a hand over your belly. “But I decided to keep them.”

His eyes had that faraway look to them. 

You continued, “I should’ve told you from the very beginning, I know that. But I panicked, and I was worried about you. About us. But I’m telling you now. I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay and be a father. You’re young–”

“Stop.” 

You did.

“You keep saying that I’m young, and you act like you have to worry about the big things and make all the big decisions alone. I’m younger than you, but that doesn’t mean I’m not your equal.” Mark squeezed your hand. “You said you would never cheat on me–”

“I never did, and I never will.” 

The bed creaked as he shuffled around and reached for something in the night stand drawer.

“It’s the same for me, there was only ever you. So I’m going to ask you properly this time.” He revealed the ring he had prepared days ago. 

“How–”

“I kept it with me even when I was in costume. Before they started treatment, I asked one of the nurses to keep it close. I’m glad he listened.”

You stared at the ring. It was exactly your style. Simple yet opulent. 

Mark lifted it between the two of you and offered his hand. He said your name, eyes full of adoration, and asked, “will you marry me?”

You smiled back, hoping the look in your face had even just a fragment of the love he showed you, and placed your fingers on his palm. “Of course.” 

The ring fit perfectly. 

You leaned down and kissed him, actively avoiding the questions at the back of your mind. The type of questions whose answers should’ve sent you running.

For example, Mark left this ring in the condo when you broke up. Up until now, you have had zero contact with him. So how did he manage to take it from the vault that only your fingerprint could open? It was one thing if he forced it open, but it was still intact.

“Sweetie?” Mark called.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave me again.”

“I promise. I’m sorry.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist with ease. He buried his nose in your torso.

“Huh.” It came out before you realized it.

“What?”

“Just that… Viltrumites sure do heal fast.” 

He tilted his head.

“You didn’t seem to be in pain when I kissed you, but your face and your arms should still be hurting. That’s what your chart says.” 

A beat. A smile. “Yeah, we do heal fast.”

“That’s good. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“Then you should take better care of me. Make sure I don’t do anything stupid or reckless.”

You giggled. “I will.”

He mumbled something into your stomach.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

“I’m telling the little one that I’m excited to meet them.”

You felt the tension leave your shoulders and you patted his head. “Me too.”

***

Mark breathed in your scent. God, he missed this. He missed you.

Poking holes in the condoms wasn’t as useless as he thought. He would’ve done more, like switch out your pills, but you definitely would’ve noticed that. 

It was cute how careful you were. In fact, he appreciated it. He didn’t want to share your attention with some brat, but it was an effective way to keep you by his side. 

He rubbed his nose onto your abdomen. “If you die young, that’d be great, too.” Nothing like a senseless tragedy to bind two people together. He already has proof that you love him so carrying this thing to term wasn’t necessary anymore. Though he definitely won’t protest in seeing you round and full, waddling around, helpless and pouty and adorable. He was getting hard just thinking about it.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear that,” you said.

Channeling his inner puppy, he beamed up at you. “Just telling the little one that I’m excited to meet them.”

A/N: The next chapter will be the final one for this Mark Variant's origin.

@danart501

Part 5

[pileofblanks]

Reminds me of some of the stories ive heard about people living under the czech protectorate (under the german nazi regime). Obviously there were many large scale protests, demonstrations and the such, secret radios sharing both true and untrue information (wether to throw spies off or to give people extra hope), but there were also jokes, anecdotes, codes, spreading of illegal literature and magazines, and of course. Weaponised incompetence with plausible deniability!

The trains that are supposed to have some pretty important people on them, being delayed an hour or so? Ah you know how it is with trains, things just happen sometimes, the weather got funky and messed up the schedules you know how it is. (Definetly not someone intentionally messing things up!)

Granades occasionally not exploding, or weapons sometimes malfunctioning? Eh must have been a mistake somewhere in the factory, you know how it is with cheaper labor, accidents just happen (and it definetly wasnt because multiple employees have decided that they will make some equpiments intentionally faulty, potentially saving someones life, without giving themselves away).

A factory not producing the maximum amounts of product? Huh, they must be having a lax day, or are just being lazy or something, i mean its already almost the weekend, maybe some accident happened they had to deal with, who knows (ignore how they sometimes when no-ones looking agree to works slower at certain times. Still work so no-one gets caught....just........slower......)

Saw something illegal? No you didnt. Know someone of a minority? No you dont. You might not have even heard of that being a thing. Someone was doing something suspicious? Oh you didnt notice anything like that at all. Someone you know was in the protest? No they weren't. You didnt even know there was a protest in the first place.

And this one's less of an incompetence thing but still worth noting - when a film with nazi propaganda in it was being played, when things eventually came to the part with hitler in it, people would start chatting loudly, and doing so drowning out any propaganda. Of course, the nazis quickly caught on and disallowed that.

So the people instead of chatting, whenever hitler showed up, they collectivelly decided to start cheering, clapping, hooting and hollering so loud, that it again drowned out anything being actually said, but this time the guards didntbkniw what to do. I mean, look at them! Thats just an excited crowd, stoked to see their leader. Why would you stop that?

And im sure there are many many more stories like that.

If you can, dont be a cog in the machine at all. But if you have to be a cog, be a cog that works well most of the time but sometimes.....it may budge a little, buck under the pressure, go a bit slower, not have enough oil, doesnt sometimes turn.... but most of the time it works fine. I mean are you sure it was even that cog that was messing things up? Could have been any of the other ones..... stuff like that.

So anyways with the rapid rise of fascism I feel it’s a good time to point out that it’s perfectly legal to follow unjust orders slowly, badly, or inefficiently

[kiame-sama]

Other than saying something along the lines of "I want you to fuck me," is there anything that the reader could do to get the professors to understand that they want to date them? Like, I know some people see a small peck on the lips as a platonic action, would they it see the same way?

Also, how would a polyamorous route with the professors go?

An old ask I felt like answering minus the last question because that would need its own post.

What the Human would need to do/say to each of the Mature Yanderes to make them realize the Human wants them romantically: (including Clay and Papa Hades)

Warnings; adult themes, adult conversations, student (reader) x yandere professor, mention of addiction, by selecting 'view more' you consent to view content and are of age to view content

~Crowley~

"Would you ever want half-Human chicks with me? Because I would be fine with having them for you."

Saying this makes his entire brain freeze in place as he registers the fact you DO NOT see him as your father, but a father to chicks you may have with him. It will take a bit of mental gymnastics for him to finally reach the conclusion that he can't have you as a child, but he can certainly have you as a lover.

Kissing him on the lips or grooming his wing feathers will also yield about the same result, as such things are typically reserved for lovers (excepting helping a chick deal with wing pinfeathers, then it is a parental and platonic interaction).

~Trein~

"I've heard you have three daughters, feel like having a few more with me?"

It is much more difficult to get Trein on board with mating the Human for the fact that Trein is a seasoned parent and tends to see almost everyone with that parental lens. Not even chaste kisses will yield much from Trein as he is a Sphinx and gentle nose-bumps, kisses, biting, and laying on top of one another is seen as more commonplace platonic behavior than it is romantic. You would have to be very straightforward and direct about your interests for him to pick up the hint.

~Divus~

(Seal form, keep in mind he does have a Humanoid form that looks almost identical to canon with different cone teeth and the design of his fur coat)

Kiss him. A full kiss on the lips in his Humanoid form will immediately tell his brain that you are interested in romance and not platonic relationship. It will not work if you kiss his snoot while he is in seal form, as seals often touch noses with their friends, partners, and pups. Out of seal form is the way to go.

Similar to Trein, laying on him in seal form, snuggling his fur out of seal form, and cuddling in either form is considered regular social interaction, not inherently romantic. If you want romance with the Selkie, you have to make it clear to him.

~Vargas~

"You're big into protecting calves. If you're half as interested in protecting your mate, I would be safe for life having a calf or two with you."

As a bull who is territorial and protective, Vargas is likely to put everyone he protects in the same category so he can keep track of them. Once the Human makes it clear they see him in a romantic light is when a new category is made; mate. Suddenly, the safety of the rest of the herd falls to the wayside so he can focus on keeping his mate safe. He is both honored and terrified to be chosen by the Human as a mate and has already forgotten any paternal feelings for romantic ones.

~Sam~

"... Do you think a child between the two of us could stand sunlight, or would they need to stay enshrouded like you?"

The suggestion of even having a child with him gets Sam's brain running at incredible speeds as he works out your interest. It doesn't take long for him to realize that you are more interested in having him as lover instead of a mate and he will easily fall into romantic territory. He still will keep you safe and protect you, but he is doing it more out of romantic interest instead of platonic.

~Clay~

"You could always make me part of your troupe as a mate instead of a wayward child."

He's probably gonna fumble his weapons when you say this and stare at you in surprise. He had been under the impression that you preferred the adult students as mates- seeing as you technically were one- over the professors, but he won't argue. If you want him to be your mate, you have to be forward about it and TELL HIM as Yeti are a very social and physical species that sees most physical contact as social interaction. He can be your mate, you just have to let him know.

~Papa Hades~

"Don't get me wrong, Idia is very sweet. I'm just more interested in the original Shroud. Why choose the younger when the ancestor is readily available?"

You're going to make him laugh. Genuinely. He is laughing in a mixture of surprise and genuine adoration because of how interested you have to come across as to made him realize you want him as a lover and not a father figure. Cheesy pick-up lines will also hint to him your interests. If you truly want him, he is yours. What better way to feed his crippling addiction to you than by indulging in intimacy with you? It is the greatest dose of aura that any of them can get.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Let Me Go (No Puedo) Pt. II

summary: sam makes the mistake of thinking you two have everything under control.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!wilson!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, eventual smut, forbidden romance, brother’s

wc: 2,918

an: eeeep, i love this series so im glad it won the poll. things get a little more…yearny here, lots of pining and what could be! hope u guys like it 🫶🏾

let me go (no puedo) masterlist

Sam makes the mistake of thinking you two have everything under control. That nothing could ever possibly happen between you– or perhaps he was just feeling desperate enough to need you to pitch in for the first time in years.

When he’d first started in this superhero business, he leaned on you a lot. There was so much pressure, being the wingman of Captain America. Being Falcon. Sam relied on you to help him gather intel and keep him company during stakeouts. Eventually, with Sam’s guidance and the hypervigilance ingrained in you from your chaotic household, you got pretty good at recon.

Sam’s arms are crossed against his chest, his expression grave. “Can you handle it? Be professional, man. She’s my sister.”

Joaquin remembers the day your hands brushed, the hours-long phone call the two of you had over a month ago– then he lets those things go for the moment. For just this moment he could forget the feelings for you budding in his heart.

“Sam, I said I’m good. You can trust me with this, c’mon man we need the recon.”

“Fine but if you so much as breathe on her, Joaquin.”

Joaquin opens his mouth to reassure Sam again but their conversation is interrupted by your knocking on the door. Even if he wanted to, Sam couldn’t back out after flying you to Virginia from Louisiana.

“Best behavior.”

Joaquin dramatically draws a cross over his heart. “Cruz, Cruz, que se vaya el diablo y que venga Jesús.”

Sam’s smile is genuine when he opens the door to greet you. “Hey, youngin’, you ready?”

“Don’t youngin’ me like you didn’t beg me to come here,” You grumble playfully stepping inside.

“Hey, chica,” Joaquin murmurs with feigned disinterest as he makes his way back to his desk.

You notice that change right away. You aren’t sure if it's for Sam’s sake or if Joaquin has decided to put more space between the two of you. To move on. Either way, there's a twinge of disappointment that pulls at your heart. You ignore it.

“Joaquin.” You give him a small nod, trying your best to smile like everything is normal before turning to Sam. “So give me more details.”

Sam is quiet as he takes in your interaction. It's harmless enough– no flirting on Joaquin’s end, no lingering glances or strange inflections in tone. Maybe he really had snuffed out whatever connection was brewing between you two. For a split second, he feels guilty taking away the possibility of happiness. Though he’d never admit it to him, he loved Joaquin. But Sam loved you more and the last thing he wanted to see was one of you get hurt by the hand of the other.

“Earth to Sammy,” You sing, waving a hand in front of his face.

That snaps him out of it and he glares at you over his shoulders as he makes his way to the table. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“That’s why I do it,” You remind him with a grin. Joining him at the table you look down at maps and blueprints strewn about. “Now, what’s this?”

“This is where I need you both. You,” Sam points at Joaquin and beckons him over. “There’s an art crawl tonight. Lotta people, good cover. I got a tip somebody’s been making illegal firearm deals in broad daylight under the guise of art. I need someone who can blend in.” His eyes flick between you and Joaquin. “Think you two can handle that without making my life harder?”

“Think you can handle not backseat driving the whole thing?” You retort, offended.

Sam just rolls his eyes at you before he starts to scan the papers in front of him, mapping a trail for the two of you to follow.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, if I talked to you like that, you’d have me on the ground.”

“You don’t have little sister privileges, Joaquin.”

“I feel like I should get little Falcon privileges or something.”

“Yeah right. Can you two knuckleheads focus, I’m trying to show you paths in and out. I want you to have options in case things go sideways.”

“You assured me that they wouldn’t.”

“Redwing says there’s only a 14% chance that things go to shit. But even if they do, you’ll have access to backup,” Sam reassures you but it’s just not enough.

You go quiet, crossing your arms protectively against your chest. 14% isn’t bad but it isn’t the number you wanted to hear. You loved your job, loved working with the kids, and helping them connect with their semblance of control through building something. The idea of not seeing them again over some routine illegal firearms makes your blood hot.

Joaquin notices the shift in your body language immediately. He can’t help it, and he draws closer, lowly asking, “Que es, querida?”

You plan to just glance over at him, but his gaze is too intense when your eyes meet. You get stuck there like a bee in honey. “Solo quiero volver con mis niños.”

His eyes soften. He wants to reach out for you, flexing his fingers before he shoves his hands in his pockets to curb the desire. “You will. I won’t let anything happen to you, lo prometo.”

“No he won’t, because there will be no distractions,” Sam says firmly— both of you know exactly what he means, and Joaquin takes a step away from you in response. “Let’s get y’all strapped up.”

The tension fizzles between the three of you as Sam gets you prepared. It’s been a couple of years since you held a gun other than a hunting rifle but it’s like riding a bike, especially when there are civilians to protect.

You frown a little, not liking how quickly you’ve slid back into that thought pattern. You and your life deserve protection too. Sam chose this life, Joaquin, too, but you? You didn’t want to have to fight for anything anymore. You wanted quiet and simple.

“I got something for you. Lil’ surprise.”

You narrow your eyes at Sam. “Trying to butter me up?”

“Do I get a surprise?” Joaquin chimes.

Sam rolls his eyes. “No blockhead, this is your job.”

“Hey, people get raises all the time,” Joaquin mumbles, pouting.

“This is all you,” Sam says to you, removing a case from the arsenal, and setting it on a nearby table.

You open the case eagerly, mouth dropping open as your fingers trace the contrasting metal and custom leather accents. There’s something engraved into the side.

“Holy shit, you got me a custom P238 Legion and that…my adoption date? Sam,” You pull him into a hug, one he readily returns.

“You always talked about it when we were younger, l l figured I owe it to you now.”

Joaquin knew that you were adopted but looking at the date it wasn’t until you were a teenager. He wants to know more about your story, even as he sees how close you and Sam are. He doesn’t want to fuck up a family…but he doesn’t think he can let you go either.

—

“So how’ve you been? Any more bad days?” Joaquin asks as you amble down the tent-lined path.

Sam was right, it's crowded, bodies packed like sardines. A great cover— not only for you and Joaquin but for the target too.

You glance at him a little dodgily, gripping the lemonade in your hand a little tighter. You both have encrypted earpieces in case you get separated and they’re connected to the same network as Redwing.

Joaquin clocks your hesitancy immediately. “Sam’s halfway across the country by now and he’s got things to focus on. It’s just you and me, hermosa.”

You and Joaquin and the droves of people in this park. It feels easier to be more open with him when there’s so much to pay attention to.

Keeping your gaze forward to focus on the task at hand you say, “A few, but none as bad as the day we talked. It's been fine enough. What about you– get enough time to grab a drink or watch a movie?”

“Glad to hear you’re seeing better days. Nothing on the social front for me yet, unless you include Sam.”

“He’s too grumpy to be included. Did you tell him about–”

“No. I wouldn’t do that to you. Look, querida, there’s something here. I think we both know that and–”

He’s cut off by a heavily tattooed woman with blunt blonde hair. “Interested in looking over our inventory? I imagine a man like you would appreciate the delicate silhouettes my pieces offer.”

“No, I’m–”

You interject, “Sure, we’d love to take a look.”

The woman’s eyes are sharp even as she smiles at you and welcomes the both of you in. You don’t care what she thinks, as long as you can blend in. It would be suspicious if the two of you didn’t peruse the art and goods at all, especially to anyone who’s here undercover too.

“What was that?” Joaquin whispers, the warmth of his breath ghosting your ear.

“It would be weird if all we did was walk around and look at people. Don’t wanna draw attention.”

He hums in agreement before turning to look at a canvas, his eyes going a little wide. Now that you’ve stepped further into the tent you realize exactly why the woman singled out Joaquin.

The silhouettes she mentioned are nude portraits…of herself. She was flirting with him and at the end of the day, you couldn’t blame her.

She materializes out of nowhere, standing distinctly between you and Joaquin as she addresses him. “See anything you like?”

“It's all one of a kind. A dedicated practice I imagine,” He answers noncommittally before snaking around her to stand beside you. To your surprise, he takes your hand pulling you flush against him. “Que piensas, mi amor?”

You clear your throat, not fully trusting your voice with the way your mouth has gone dry. “Couldn’t agree more.”

The woman is immediately disinterested once it’s clear that you and Joaquin are together. She’s cordial, thanking you for your time and telling you where you can find her if either of you is interested in a piece.

“Let’s keep moving,” Joaquin urges once she’s gone.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you out of the tent to the main path again. You don’t let go either— you don’t want to. It should be a reflex to pull away, a reminder to keep that space between you both. But his grip is warm and steady, and for once, you let yourself take comfort in it.

“That was a sweet little piece Sam got you. What’s the story?”

“I used to help him on recon when he first started. I was his woman in the chair and I always wanted a P238 Legion. I mean it’s gorgeous, sleek, compact. Not much more I could want especially since he customized it for me,” You don’t mean to ramble but you do.

Joaquin smiles as he listens to your answer, enjoying the sight of you so excited. It makes him reluctant to ask his next question, but he just wants to know more about you. “You said the numbers were your adoption date?”

“The official one anyway, yeah,” You train your eyes on a display of delicately decorated ceramic bowls, your tone light. He doesn’t need the whole story—nobody does.

The paperwork was just a formality by then, the Wilsons had already felt like home. But the time before that? There was no reason to dig into the years that built your nightmares.

“You would’ve been a teenager by then.”

“Adoption takes time,” You say, unsure why he’s restating things the both of you already know.

“Mmm. No fue fácil, I bet.”

“Oh— well, no it wasn’t. Not at first, but eventually my parents stopped noticing I was gone. I lived with the Wilsons full time since I was 12, the legal process is just a bitch.”

“I’m sorry, hermosa.”

“It was a long time ago. And it came with perks.”

“Perks?”

“Growing up in an environment like the one I did…some people in your line of work have to develop and hone their attention skills. Those skills were how I survived. How else would I know the wind is blowing south or how distinct your footsteps are from everyone else’s?”

“You’ve been keeping track of that even as we talk?” He asks in disbelief.

“I have to…had to. I also know you weren’t, because you totally would’ve made a corny joke about the penis vases we passed.”

Joaquin glances over his shoulder, scanning. “There were penis vases?”

“No, but I love how excited you got,” You tease.

“You got jokes, querida. You’re definitely a Wilson,” He squeezes your hand playfully where it’s still interlocked with his.

Joaquin doesn’t know how much his words mean to you. You’d always wanted a place to belong and when you found the Wilson’s you wanted nothing more than to belong to them.

“Was that the only perk?”

“Sort of. Like I said, being good at this sort of thing had Sam dragging me along and he paid me for it. It’s how I got my first set of power tools so I could finally woodwork on our family property.”

“What’s that about? The woodworking passion?”

Just like that fateful night when you answered the phone, you and Joaquin fall into a comfortable rhythm of conversation. It’s easy with him, even when it shouldn’t be. The more time you spend together, the more dangerous this ease feels—like you could forget why this can’t happen.

The two of you look cozy, hand and hand, browsing the tents, stopping for cheese fries, and re-upping on lemonade. Eventually, you make it to the picnic tables sitting down to get a better angle to watch the crowds.

Before you know it, the sun has dipped low, and the amount of people meandering around drops significantly. It’s clear that whatever target Sam was hoping for didn’t show.

“Sam’s gonna be disappointed,” You say worriedly on the walk back to the car.

“I’m not,” Joaquin murmurs, pausing briefly to grab your hand again.

Your heart flutters at his words, at his strong hand around yours and you try to joke all the meaning away. “Yeah me either, I mean free flight, free gun, free food—“

Joaquin gives you a look of feigned offense. “And I’m just here, huh?”

You laugh, leaning into him playfully, “Oh, right you. You’re pretty cool I guess.”

He opens your door for you, and though he joins you in laughter his voice is wistful when he responds. “Yeah, you too.”

The simmer of longing in his voice isn’t lost on you, and you hesitate, looking at him with some sort of apology on your tongue. What would an apology really do? Give him (and yourself) false hope? Soothe an ache that can never be remedied? So you press your lips together, sliding into the seat with a soft thank you.

The armory is quiet when you and Joaquin step inside, the fluorescent lights buzzing low overhead. The mission wasn’t a failure, but it wasn’t a success either. No target, no major leads—just a long day spent chasing a ghost through a crowded venue. A practically perfect day spent together that leaves you swirling and pining for things you cannot have.

You set your empty lemonade cup down on Sam’s desk, fingers lingering on the rim before finally letting go. Joaquin stands beside you, hands on his hips, watching you like he’s debating something.

“You should stay,” he says.

You glance at him. “We both know that’s not a good idea.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to.” His voice is low and steady—heated in a way that makes your belly flip.

You exhale, shaking your head. “Joaquin…”

But before you can say more, he reaches for you. Not in a desperate way or a way that forces anything. You can tell by his gentle grip that he gives you a choice to stop him but how could you— his sincerity makes it impossible not to let him. His arms come around you, warm and solid, anchoring you to the moment, to him.

You let yourself sink into him, just for a second. Let yourself pretend it’s normal because it truly feels that way. That this—whatever this is festering between you and Joaquin—is something you can hold onto. His cologne is spiced, his chest firm beneath your cheek.

Before it can go too far— become something more, not only in your mind but in your heart, you press a hand against his chest and whisper, “Joaquin… debes soltarme.”

Figuratively. Literally.

He doesn’t for several moments, but eventually, his hands loosen at your back, fingers trailing down your arms reverently before he breaks contact.

“No sé si puedo,” he murmurs.

And it’s not just a smooth-talking line, not one of his flirty quips. You can feel in the charged air between you that it’s the truth. You can hear it in the way his voice dips, in the way he looks at you like he’s trying to memorize something.

Your throat tightens. You can’t afford to let that truth settle.

So you take one step back. And then another. Another and another, and when you finally turn, heading for the door, you can’t look back. You know he’s still watching.

> pt. iii

lmk if you want to be on nsfw joaquin torres taglist (must be 18+/have age displayed)

nsfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69 , @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites, @articel1967, @lanoviadestiles, @peacefangirl, @soularsss, @everydaydreamer, @violetpassionfruit, @seraphibunni, @blackwomanchronicles

[yan-lorkai]

Request: I was rereading your Platonic yan Lillia as Father figure and I had an idea. Feel free to ignore if you think its too redundant. How do you think the Main story would playout differently with Plat Yan Lillia being in the story? basically, he just decides to adopt you like in your initial HC, and how that might alter the main story.

also as some optional caveats/ questions to add the scenario, if your interested.

Since book 7 isn't done yet (as of this writing, at least) you can feel free to ignore it if you wish. Or at least, Lillia is still at full power and completely fine. (trying to avoid b7 spoilers if you haven't read it yet, but if your their, you'll know what I mean).

With Plat Yan Lillia being who he is, do you think he would pass those traits on to the other Diasomnia boys?

Alot of Malleus HC's (yan or otherwise) involve him using his magic to turn reader/MC into a fey or finding a way to prolong their life, so they won't lose them. Do you think Lillia would do similar for silver or Reader, if he could? He's probably more knowledgeable on magic than Malleus would be to begin with.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ﾟ a/n: ngl when I first received this request, I was so excited to write it but had way too many ideas so I kept going back and forth about how to write it, in fact. And well, one thing led to another and a long time had passed, diasomnia chapter even ended recently lmao. Regardless, anon, I hope you're still lurking here and like this. Sorry for such tardiness in answering this request, though. This post is long btw >:D

Lilia Vanrouge is a simple fae, really. He sees a helpless, anxious kid, and he adopt them, no questions asked, no what ifs or buts. This is literally how you two met. He was floating around looking for Malleus when he noticed Crowley leading you, sweet, anxious you, through the corridors, speaking about this and that without particularly caring of what you were feeling, the way you were shaking and gasping for air, the way you were biting your lips and gnawing at your cuticles.

Normally he would go away, as he have nothing to do with it, but his fae instincts kicked in and he stayed there, watching, curious.

Maybe it was your pitiful, sad appearance, your fear so alluring and funny to him. Maybe it was the little tears trickling down your face as you heard that there was no known way to go back to your world - you were from another world, how interesting, he had never met someone from another world.

Yet, he chose to act.

So softly and gently as when he used to soothe Silver after a nightmare, approaching you casually, voice smooth promising you that everything would be fine and that you could trust him, that you could lean on him. It was alright to cry, be anxious and fearful, and it was alright because the situation was stressful.

And you did.

You trusted him enough to let him deal with Crowley, as you were too busy trying to calm your anxious heart down, trying to pay attention to your surroundings, to what they were talking. And this changed everything, first of all:

Your dorm.

"Is this one to your liking?" Lilia asks you, tilting his head to look up to you. In front of you, a simple but comfortable room was offered to you, a much better option than the inhospitable, dusty, broken dorm that Crowley was going to force put you and that strange raccoon.

There you would either shiver in the cold, surrounded by dust and cobwebs and nosy ghosts, or sweat in the excessive heat, without the option of a working air conditioner. Here, you had warm blankets and spells that would allow you to sleep perfectly regardless of the weather.

You wander inside it, opening the windows and the empty cabinets, still unsure that you deserved such kindness from a stranger like him. He had done so much in so little time. You turn to look at Lilia again. "Can I really stay here? I can't repay you, you know. I don't have magic, what if-"

He shushes you quickly, patting your head gently as he would with a crying child. It didn’t matter to him that you were magicless - he would dare say that add to the charm. You were just like a fawn surrounded by wolves. A sheep among dragons.

You were nothing.

Yet, there was something to you that made Lilia protective.

"You don't have magic, so what? Many humans don't. In fact, the mages are a small portion of humans that still have magic on their veins. This doesn't make you any different to me and you deserve a good room, and good people to support in these trying times." Lilia nodded to his own words, a little proud that you were slowly coming around as the reality seemed to be dawning on you.

There was a knot at your throat, a sting on your eyes. He seemed to know as his voice turned even more gentler.

"If the mirror had chosen you, stay and study, no need to repay me anything." He concluded before pulling you to your feet with his soft hands, smoothing down your wrinkled clothes. "Now come, let's get some food on that belly of yours, kiddo. I can't have you starving now, can I?"

As if to embarrassing you further, your stomach growls right at the moment and your whole face got hot while Lilia laughed. You made him feel much younger than he truly is; he missed that feeling.

He missed having someone he can protect and take care of, after all, his children are all grown up and strong, and don't need him that much anymore.

"Oh, that's right" you heard him saying. "I want to introduce you to Malleus, Silver and Sebek. Come, come."

Your academics.

"Hm... Lilia?" You call him, searching for him among the sea of other students. There's tons of books that you're holding in for dear life; some are introductory books on concepts of magic and others on magical symbols, in general, they are complementary books that you should read to understand the subject covered in the first year, even more because you don't have magic nor are you from this world.

Suddenly, tons of books are lifted from your hands with great ease. "Don't be stupid, human. Your fragile arms can't handle this weight."

It's Sebek. Then another pair of hands come to rest over your shoulders and you turn your neck to see who it is; Malleus, his expression much reminding you of a puppy by his pout.

"We have our own space to study, beastie, come." He tells you, all the while he is forcing you to walk as he guides you to their secret, shared place. Sebek is carrying most of your books as you ponder where they had come from.

Since day one, they seemed so fond of you, treating you with such care that almost made you cry late at night for how fortunate you are to have them in this world. It was way too early to say that but you loved having them around as they helped you with all your doubts and never forgot to include you in their plans, even if they were a little forceful while they fought a little for your attention.

It was cute, in a way.

Almost as if suddenly you had three brothers. And an eccentric father, as well.

Silver was sleeping over his book, oh so serenely, his hair spilling over his cheeks as he was biting his lips - probably due to some strange dream. You occupied the empty seat by Malleus side, finally releasing all that height that you had been fighting to hold.

"Lilia said he would help study these books. Do you know if he is nearby?" You asked him and Malleus sighed.

Hos eyes skim over those titles, almost as if they don't hold any value to him. Coming from a prince, perhaps all this knowlegment isn't pertinent.

You remember hearing Lilia's ramblings about how spoiled Malleus was when he was a child, how his tantrums were cute - yet dangerous -, how he liked to put bows on his tiny little horns. Lilia lived to ramble about his sons.

"Some of them are outdated, wrong or a waste of your time." Sebek separated the good books from the bad with a single wave of his hand. He was showing off just to see your eyes shining, as always happened when they used magic - yet he would never admit that.

And this time it wasn't different.

There was just a fascination that settled on your eyes as you stared starstruck at any and all display of magic.

"I can explain the core values of magic to you." Suddenly, Silver was awoken. His voice was hoarse and his eyes were almost closing again due to drowsiness, but he seemed to be fighting it just till he could hear your answer.

Touched yet again by their eagerness, you agreed.

"Very well, Silver will explain the basics, and then you had to read this book." Malleus pointed it to you.

You thanked them, hearing attentively Silver's explanation, writing down the things you understand and asking the things you can't seem to grasp the concept. Overall, your study session is amazing and goes really well.

Now, if only you looked up, you would see Lilia hanging on the ceiling like a bat. He is watching over you, over your progress, as he seems really proud of himself for having you make friends with his children.

He knew you would get along well with them. And he made sure to explain to them that they had to welcome you really well into the family, that you were a little skittish and fearful of this new world and that they couldn't tease too much. Lilia is glad they heard him.

They seemed to have taken a liking to you, just as he did. This is great because he is inserting himself even more on your life, and he will manipulate each and every opportunity just so your schedule lines up with your brothers or his.

Your friendships.

You are surrounded by them whether you realize it or not. Normally, Lilia wakes you up, soft voice and funny words as he rubbed your sides to make you laugh or get a reaction out of you. Even if you lock your windows or door, Lilia still finds a way into your room and you guess you don't really know how he is doing that.

If you try to dissuade him from doing it, Lilia acts all cutesy while babying you because, of course, you're grumpy and fuzzy. The day just started!

As morning goes on, you have breakfast with your little family, hearing Sevek praising Malleus and Silver's soft snores as Lilia laugh at his face. It's chaotic and fun, and you feel really good at being there.

Though, it does get a little overbearing after a while. Malleus likes to walk you to your classes, having memorized them the very first day he met you - but the students like to whisper about you.

About how strange you are from associating with someone like him. How it must be dangerous to associate with you, as Malleus has quite the reputation, despite being an absolute sweetheart.

It's quite isolating. Lonely.

There's tons of lively people you want to meet and be friends with, but they don't seem to reciprocate the feeling even more when they realize that that by associating themselves with you, Malleus and his guards would come as a package deal. Most can't deal with that thought alone and so, they ignore you.

And when you cry about it to your dad Lilia, he just sighs and collects you into a big, warm hug. He let's you vent about how futile your attempts to make friends are all the while instilling in you some very questionable thoughts about other people. Because surely they are in the wrong here, right? They are so judgmental, so prejudiced.... He makes you question yourself. After all, do you really want to make friends with people like these?

Perhaps it'd be better to stick around with them and Lilia.

Your life in general.

With no place to run, with no other people to accept you for who you really are, you pass your days studying with Malleus and training with Sebek - it's funny in a way, plus he is so fearful of harming you. Silver is the one responsible for walking you to your classes and taking you to eat lunch with them, if Malleus doesn't notice the passage of time.

He likes to hold you and float with you in his arms. Mostly, when you don't even realize he is in the same room, he just appears, making you have a heart attack while he laughs at your scared face, holding you against his chest as if you're just a kitten. Or, he tries to make you his cute taste tester while he cooks and bakes, and your brothers have to save you - one of these days, he'll still get you to try his muffin. His very cursed muffin.

It's rather a dull routine, waking up, studying, eating and sleeping, but Lilia keeps it funny with his shenanigans, plus he doesn't let you linger too much on your memories about your old world, so as to not let you be saddened that Crowley - who was certainly not coerced to by the diamsonia - hadn't found a way to open another portal yet.

The weekends are your favorite days. You can sleep till midday, read something, or watch Silver and Sebek bickering - the latter is always funny.

Overall, they consume much of your time.

And it stays like this as the years pass. Sometimes, you still miss the old world, as Lilia calls it, but you had to get over it as there was no way to find a way back.

Lilia isn't fazed by this. But perhaps an accident had happened to you or Silver took a bad fall, and this makes Malleus think about how fragile humans are. How easy it is for them to break bones or die from the flu. He hates the thought. He loathes it.

Your mortality isn't something to be missed. The way you continue to grow, to change, as you graduate, you turn into a very beautiful adult. Silver does too, of course, as he too is a human.

He too will disappear as the wind. Gone forever, just in a few years.

He doesn't want to wake up someday and notice that both you and Silver are gone. He won't have you two dying, not on his watch, so as the king of Thorn Valley, he spends an awful amount of time searching about ways to turn you immortal, to stop the natural cycle of life. If someone can do that, it's him.

And Sebek is right there being his right hand man, helping him, instilling even more these thoughts on him, because even if he is a little prideful, he too would hate to lose both you and Silver.

Their research is futile, though. Maybe because of lack of sources or the books had some torn pages and they couldn't reach any conclusion. Not one that matters, that is.

So Malleus asked to meet Lilia. His father continues with his wolfish smile and sweet eyes. Even as the years passed, his vitality was at fullest. And his knowing eyes pronounced that knew what that meeting was about.

Of course, he knew.

Silver is also part of the guard, he must have noticed how strange was Malleus and Sebek's behavior.

And Malleus tells him. About the researches, the inconclusive answers, how they didn't know how to proceed now. How they were lost. How he didn't want to lose both you and Silver. You were just starting to live and in 50 or more years, you would be gone. Lost forever. Never to return.

"Tell me, boy, what you found." His tone is soft, teasing. It sounds like music to Malleus ears, a smooth song he plans to hear for a long time yet.

He would do the same for Lilia. Wouldn't stop at nothing to find a way to save him if he was dying.

Malleus doesn't bear well the thought that he would see your casket being lowered to the ground, that worms would eat your body until only bones remained. He couldn't live a life knowing he could never again hear you call him "tsunotaro" or how your hands felt when you wrapped cute little bows on his horns. Or how you sang when you thought you were alone.

He couldn't bear to lose Silver. He held that boy on his arms, cuddled him in his sleep, sang him to sleep, and watched him grow. Only to lose him to time? Not happening.

So he begged - unfitting as it was for a king -, he begged his father for help. Almost pleaded, as Lilia lived a very long life and knew a lot. He knew a lot about ancient magic, about lost cultures, about history. He was in so many books. He saw so many empires rise and fall.

"It won't be easy." Lilia says but there's something on his voice that tells Malleus that he knows something. He can do it; stop them from aging. "It will be painful for them in the next year. They may hate you for this too."

"I do not care about this." It's his answer, almost instantly as he looked his father in his eyes. "If you can do it, then please."

Lilia feels good. Of course he was the one passing down those traits for his children - though, you were a little different, sweeter, nicer than your brothers. You would hate the change, Lilia was sure. And he also didn't cared. He too has lost a lot.

He lost Lavern and Maleanor. The two fae he loved the most in the entire world.

And when he lost them, his world had ended. The air was stagnant and polluted. Everything had lost its warmth, its colors. The meaning of everything he had fought for was gone. But then, he found Malleus, a tiny stubborn egg, and then Silver, a lost baby, finally Sebek who was always blabbering about something.

And his heart was healed.

And you too had come to him, the last addition to the family. You had fitted in just like he thought years ago.

"Call Sebek, we might need to discuss a few things."

And Malleus signs for the guard that stands outside to call for Sebek. And as he does so, Lilia glances at the window, enjoying the soft breeze and the sun shining happily. He can see you playing in the river, laughing, with some fae children.

You looks ethereal as human.

And you'll look as much ethereal as a fae, he is sure.

If he tells Malleus he had similar plans or no, to turn both you and Silver, that will depend on his mood. But Lilia knows that by the end of the week, he'll have you both turned into faes.