#what I should be doing with a boy right now!!!

[damselneedssaving]

BATBOYS BUT THEY SEE F!STREAMER!READER PLAYING SMASH OR PASS WITH THEIR HERO PERSONAS WHILE COSPLAYING AS THEM ON STREAM.

★ TAGS: older!damian wayne, older!duke thomas, did someone ask for some crack?, suggestive content (it's smash or pass, people), dirty talk, surprise surprise those boys remain majorly obsessed with you, mention of the boys getting boners, yeah... this one's not for minors, duke glows when he's flustered and it's so cute

★ A/N: this one was requested! and omg, the hero that slid into my inbox sure has one hell of a creative mind. srsly, this was such a good idea, i had to add it to the main timeline 🤭 just a heads up though, because this is suggestive content, i will not be using the taglist. i don't tag for suggestive content as i have no way of checking if you are acc an appropriate age for it or not. oh and as always, you do not need to have read the other parts of this series to get this one!!

★ F!STREAMER!READER MASTERLIST ★

Jason's mouth is dry, tongue like sandpaper as he stares at the title of your stream displayed clearly on his phone: Cosplaying as Gotham's vigilantes!

It takes no less than five seconds for Tim to come stumbling into the room.

"Did you see the stream name?!"

Jason doesn't answer, doesn't think he can. He's too busy staring at his screen in bewilderment to even begin to formulate words at the moment.

But he doesn't need to honestly, something else responds to Tim instead.

A low whistle.

Dick strides into the room. "Forget the name, did you see the thumbnail?"

As though summoned by just the mention of you (or rather, the thought of someone thirsting over you) Damian pops in not a moment after, lips pulled down into a scowl.

"Use those eyes of yours to prey on her, and I will make sure you lose them."

And then, as if to put the final cherry on top of the Wayne family cake gathered in the living room, Duke enters, all but ignoring his brothers in favour of grabbing the remote and using their amazon stick to navigate the TV to Twitch, immediately clicking onto your stream.

All of their eyes dart to the screen.

"That's right, guys! You read the stream name. Your girl's gonna cosplay everyone's favourite group of Gotham vigilantes!"

There you stand, a smile on your face and your eyes crinkled at the corners, looking just as pretty as the week before, and the week before that, and the week before that—

God, you're so pretty.

"Now, you might be wondering: say [Name], how come you're suddenly cosplaying when your channel is usually about playing video games?"

You disappear off-screen, the sound of shuffling causing the boys' saliva to roll down their throat.

"Well, my friends, to put it simply—your girl is about to head to Gotham for a Meet-N-Greet, and is hoping this stream will catch the eyes of the vigilantes there so I can gift you guys with a very special collaboration stream."

The room was already silent before, but after your words, it somehow seemed to double, the boys all staring at the screen with wide, dilated eyes.

You want to catch their attention. Beautiful, perfect you wants to collab with them. Them.

"Holy shit," Tim whispers, breathless and in that familiar daze only you can put him in.

"Fuck me." Jason runs a hand through his hair.

The stream chimes with a donation.

@/therealdamianwayne donated $15,000! They would be lucky to even be in your presence, Beloved.

You giggle, the lower half of your face hiding behind your hands as you bashfully look away from the camera. "Thanks, Damian."

The demon head's lips only quirk up even further at his brother's scalding glares.

The static sound of you clearing your throat reverts their attention back to you though.

"Anyway, does anyone have a suggestion on who I should start with?"

@/dukethomas donated $1,000! what about the signal?

The bats turn to send their daggered eyes to Duke, but he doesn't even spare them a glance, his own eyes too wide with hope as he stares at the screen of the TV.

"Oh! So glad you suggested him actually—"

Woah, woah, woah, what? You're glad he suggested himself? Holy shit, Duke thinks his heart just tried to lunge out of his chest.

In fact, he's so focused on the pink feeling that just engulfed him, that he misses the rest of what you say, and in a blink, is faced with your empty room as you disappear somewhere to change into the outfit.

And when you come back on screen? All dressed up in his metal-plated armour? With his name practically written all over you?

Well... Duke doesn't think he's ever seen such a beautiful sight in his life.

"Thomas, quit blinding me."

Duke blinks, glancing around to see his brothers squinting in his direction, faces scrunched up and mouths pulled into scowls as they regard the light with disdain like the bats that they are.

"Sorry guys." He chuckles awkwardly.

But before he can dim the glow surrounding him, your voice catches his ears.

"'Smash or pass The Signal?' Oh, hard smash."

The way he brightens next is half intentional, and half not. Half intentional because he can feel the way his pants strain against his crotch. And half not because, holy fucking shit, you said you'd smash him.

Before Damian can hiss again at his light, Duke already rushes straight out of the room.

The Wayne heir's lips pull down. "Disgusting."

@/greatestdetective donated $1,000! can you do red robin next?

In an instant, the remaining brothers turn to send the resident sleep-deprived detective very pointed glares, green radiating off them in waves as he shamelessly stares at the screen with dilated pupils.

"Sure thing!"

"You are utterly perverse." Damian points at Tim, brows furrowed and tone screaming judgement.

Tim only scoffs in response. "Oh please, like you aren't waiting just as much to see if she'd smash you."

He catches a batarang right before it hits his face.

"What the fuck?!"

Damian's teeth grind over each other. "Do not accuse me of such shallow thoughts towards my beloved."

"You almost killed me, dude!"

"And I would do it again."

"So? How do I look?"

Instantly, Tim's anger flushes straight out of his system, gaze darting to the screen as he mindlessly catches yet another batarang aiming straight between his eyes.

"Oh fuck..."

You're stood there, hands resting on your hips as you adorn his suit like it belongs on you, like he belongs on you.

His fingers move before his mind can.

@/greatestdetective donated $5,000! smash or pass?

"Geez, again?" You sweatdrop, reaching your hand behind his cowl much like he does when he's nervous. You two share nervous habits, holy shit. "Y'all will think I'm a slut for this but, I don't care. Smash."

With that, you've reduced Tim to a curled up ball, blush heavy on his face, pupils dilated to the sun and back, and mouth muttering obsessively about his love for you.

"Alright, since we're doing the boys, I might as well go through all of them before getting to the girls, hm?" You smile at the camera before sending it a little wink. "Anyone else wanna suggest who I should change into next?"

@/jaybird donated $10! red hood

Dick curses, his phone just short of in his hands as he sends a glare to a very smug-looking Jason stood with his arms crossed and his gaze trained onto the TV.

"Oh? The bad boy?" You giggle from the other side of the screen, hand cupping your mouth much like it did when Damian sent in a donation earlier, that same way the boys recognise as your signature move when you're flustered. "Sure thing!"

Needless to say, the two remaining brothers that have yet to be brought up on your stream are very much boiling beneath the skin.

Something which, is only furthered by the next thing you say.

"I don't quite have his build—which, by the way, is insane. I mean, have you guys seen the muscles on that man? Hot damn. I'd love for him to throw me around."

"Beloved...?" Damian mutters, voice wavering and pupils shaking.

Dick follows after by falling to his knees all dramatic-like, and if Tim hadn't been in a trance, and Duke was in the room rather than who-knows-where to take care of that little problem of his, those two would probably also react with just as much as despair at your words.

Jason, however, lets his jaw drop so low, flies could probably enter his mouth and choke him to death—assuming he hasn't already died from your audacious words, that is.

He's seen people thirst over him online before, of course. But for that to be you? For you to find him—scar-filled, ugly-hearted him—attractive?

Someone better pinch him 'cause he must be dreaming.

"Here I come!"

You stroll in, hands in the pockets of his jacket—his jacket—and face completely out of view, completely engulfed by his mask.

Oh yeah, he's definitely dreaming.

He blinks, watching with a dry mouth as you strike a pose.

"Well? Badass, huh?"

Badass, but, missing something.

It's okay to be a little selfish and ask for more, right?

@/jaybird donated $15! you're missing the guns sweetheart

"Oh! Right you are, Jaybird." You perk up, and the tone of your voice is enough for Jason to tell you're flashing him a smile beneath his mask. "Hope I don't get banned for this."

You disappear off-screen and reappear not a moment later dual-wielding pistols. Dual-wielding. pistols.

Holy shit, that's hot.

So hot, in fact, that Jason can feel the room getting warmer, warm enough to shrink his pants actually.

...

Oh shit.

"Barbarians," Damian starts, his tone screaming all the disgust written over his face, "I live in a house surrounded by barbarians."

Jason narrows his eyes right back at the man, but his eye-contact is swiftly broken the second he hears a—"Smash,"—coming from the TV, and his pants tighten even further.

Damian scowls in disgust.

"Right. I think only Robin's left of all the boys? Not including Batman of course."

Dick's scream breaks the other two brother's out of their staring contest.

@/sweetestassingotham donated $5,000! what about nightwing babe???

You frown at the camera, Jason's helmet now off and placed to the side, tilting your head all cutely. "Isn't Nightwing a Blüdhaven vigilante?"

@/sweetestassingotham donated $5,000! hes sometimes in gotham too :((((

You place a hand beneath your chin, gaze far-off, thinking, before you lift a finger and flash the screen a smile. "Right you are! I think I have a cosplay of him lying around here somewhere? Might be a bit small though, I remember wearing it to a costume party a few years back."

And just like that, Dick's earlier scream of dismay turns into one of delight.

"I gotta say though, sweetest ass in Gotham"—you giggle off-screen—"if we're counting Nightwing as a resident of Gotham, you've got some competition. Have you seen the cake on that guy? Ugh. Another huge smash."

Dick collapses to his knees, thanking everything that he was blessed with such a sweet ass and chose to flaunt it so that you would be able to see and notice that he is very smash-able and that you should indeed, 100% hook up with him when you come to Gotham.

Jason seems to beg to differ however, lips shifting into a scowl before a bang resounds through the room, and Dick is up on his feet in an instant.

"You just shot at me!" He points straight at the younger man, who all but shrugs in response.

"No I didn't. You were just in the way of my bullet."

Dick gawks.

Your voice sounds from the screen.

"Okay, uh, it fits, but it's a little tight, so don't make fun of me, okay guys?"

Dick's, Jason's, and Damian's eyes all instantly shoot to the screen.

You enter, hands running down the skin-tight suit on your body with your lips pulled into an unsure smile.

And as if that sight wasn't enough to bless the boys, you proceed to turn around, head tilting over your shoulder as you use the lens of the camera to check yourself out in Dick's clothes.

To check your ass out in Dick's clothes.

The sound of a camera shutter echoes through the room.

Then another. And another. And another—

Both Jason and Damian turn to see Dick with his eyes trained onto you, entirely in a trance as he repeatedly presses his thumb against the screen of his phone, each time causing the device to echo the sound of a camera shutter.

It takes only a second for Damian to lunge.

"You perverted piece of—"

Dick books it straight out of the room, and Damian goes to follow, ready to use every single technique his grandfather taught him to rain hell on his father's ward for daring to look at you in such a way, when, just like how it always does with all his other brothers, the sound of your voice brings him to an abrupt halt.

"Alright, now it's just Robin left, right?"

His eyes slowly drag themselves to the screen.

"Alright, little confession time, I've always kind of imagined how romantic it would be to have Robin swing into my room just before bed to wish me a good night," you say, and in it's in a voice that's bashful, nervous, maybe even a little embarrassed.

Oh, Beloved, you have nothing to be embarrassed of.

God, if Damian only knew of this before, he would've taken the trip all the way to your city just to swing into your window and wish you good night a long time ago.

"I don't know, I guess he's just got this charm to him."

Be still, his heart.

But how could it?

"Alright, here goes nothing. Final boy vigilante of Gotham."

Damian watches, breathless, as you step into the light like a moonbeam peeking through clouds.

You stand there, hands wound around his hood as you pull it over your head, your smile as radiant as ever and his clothes fitting you so perfectly, they might as well be yours over his.

And as you send another wink at the camera with another, simple but effective—"Smash,"—Damian's brain turns to static.

You have now simply and effectively reduced all the batboys into putty with just one stream.

And you don't even know it.

COMING NEXT -> BATBOYS BUT THEY ATTEND F!STREAMER!READER'S MEET-N-GREET.

[evamame]

atsumu’s mini me always has his back / baby fluff

atsumu is on the phone, arguing with somebody over an advertisement shoot that he doesn’t want to do. he’s been going at it with the person on the other end for a while, you and your baby sat nearby.

“like i said, it’s not—” atsumu begins.

“baa!” your son yells, his stubby hands thrown up in exasperation just like his father.

you and atsumu both pause, your son looking up at his dad expectantly with wide eyes, gauging his reaction. did he just back up his papa in an argument he doesn’t even understand? when atsumu swore to you once you got pregnant that he’d make a mini me, it turns out he really meant it.

before you have the chance to break out into a fit of laughter—atsumu holding his own in—he continues, now addressing your baby with a smirk. “that’s exactly what i was saying! ya’ get it, little man.” maybe he’s a bit too enthusiastic as he speaks (bold words to describe the atsumu miya), but it just makes your son laugh at his father’s agreement with adorably loud cackles.

he goes on again, babbling and animatedly moving around as if whatever he’s saying actually makes sense. atsumu just goes along with it, attentively nodding his head. “oh, yeah, totally,” he says before switching to address the phone, “ya’ hear that? even ma’ son agrees with me!”

his marketing manager on the other end is just as confused as he should be. “mr. miya, isn’t your son an infant?”

“a hella smart one!” atsumu declares, holding his hand out in a fist to your son with a grin. his tiny one meets it for a fist bump, followed with even more incoherent words. “yup, so true. that’s ma’ boy!”

extra

“he loves me!” “well, you’re his dad. of course he loves you.” “yeah, but like, he didn’t even know what was going on and he backed me up! that’s true love. we’re tight.” “can you be any tighter than with someone you share genes with?” “we should’ve named him ‘tsumu junior. or maybe the second.” “definitely not.”

masterlist | taglist | tags: @scoupsworld @mires765 @amaliaaliena @nanasrkives @bakugouswaif @frozen-waffle a/n: inspired by a video i saw

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｐｌｅａｓｅ ｍｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: drug dealer!wooyoung x good girl!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut/playful enemies to lovers

♡ Summary: If there's one thing you've learned from having a criminal as a step brother it's this: Never, under any circumstance, get involved with a guy like him. It's messy, it's risky, and it almost always ends in tears. It's the #1 reason you've pushed Wooyoung away for so long but sadly for you he's sickeningly handsome and painfully persistent. A combination that was bound to break you down and today's the day.

♡ Word Count: 3.7k

♡ Warnings: san's your step brother (only mentioned), wooyoung's a criminal but a cute one, heavily tattooed woo, he low key/high key worships reader's body, kissing, oral sex (f receiving, reader's first time actually), fingering, a lil handjob, scratching, unprotected sex, a lil rough sex, cock riding, choking, creampie, pet names (baby, princess).

♡ A/N: Hello, my darlings. For whatever reason (he's super fucking hot) I've had a thing for Wooyoung lately. I'm also such a sucker for a criminal/mafia/etc boy who's super soft for reader and that's how we ended up here. As always, if you end up reading this I hope you have fun with it my loves. xoxo

The perfect sunny day. You’ve been waiting months for the weather to break and finally you’ve been blessed with one. Refusing to waste it, you’ve been relaxing by the pool all day. Occasionally you’ll take a dip, letting the cool sparkling blue waters wash over you, but mostly you’ve been right where you are now. Spread out on a lounge chair, your earphones blaring your favorite song as the sun sprinkles its rays across your soft skin. 

This is the most peace you’ve had in a long time and the preciousness of it isn’t lost on you. At any second your stepbrother and his “business associates” could charge through the front door, bringing chaos and bloodshed with them, but you try not to think about it. For now this sprawling villa is all yours and nothing can take that from you. Well, almost nothing. 

“What are you doing out here, kid?” Wooyoung asks, staring down at you through a pair of dark tinted sunglasses. 

With your eyes closed, you hum along to the music, blissfully unaware of his existence. Wooyoung takes a long look at you, his gaze scanning you from head to toe. In all the years he’s worked for your stepbrother not once has he missed an opportunity to observe your beauty and this is the opportunity of a lifetime to say the least. He prides himself as being a man who bows to no one but he’d get down on his knees just to beg for one nibble at that plush figure of yours. 

Pushing his glasses back to the top of his head, he leans in closer to that pretty face and shouts, “You should really be more aware of your surroundings!”

His breath skims your cheek and you open your eyes only to see the shadow of a man, his features obscured by the sun. “Aah, shit!” you scream, scrambling out of the chair and nearly falling as you do. 

Wooyoung cackles, reaching out to you in a half hearted attempt to offer some comfort. “It’s okay! It’s me!”

You snatch your earbuds out, your eyes adjusting to the brightness as you begin to make out who it is in front of you. “Woo?” you squint, “You son of a bitch! What’s wrong with you?” 

“Wait, I’m sorry!” he apologizes but you’re already raining slaps down upon him. Using the duffle bag in his hand, he holds it up, blocking a few of your hits. 

You maneuver around it, landing a half dozen more hits before you tire yourself out. “You don’t sneak up on people like that! You almost gave me a heart attack!” 

“I said I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to scare you, honestly. Come here, let’s make up” Woo opens his arms, approaching you for a hug and, as always, you shove him away. The rejection doesn’t even sting anymore, he just takes it as a part of your charm.

Eyeing the hefty bag in his hand, you fold your arms across your chest, eager to get him out of your hair. “Tell me what you want. Quickly.” 

“Well, I have this delivery…”

You throw a hand over his mouth, refusing to hear another word. The less you know the better. “San’s not here so you can go. Thank you. Goodbye.” 

With that you ease back down into your chair, ready to carry on with your day like this never happened, but Wooyoung’s not giving up so easily. Part of you knew he wouldn’t. 

Wooyoung scoffs, his tongue poking his cheek, “You know I can’t do that. Today’s the drop off date and I don’t miss my dates, not for anyone. Not even you, princess. So here…”

He holds the bag out to you and you shoo it away. The only thing worse than knowing what’s in that thing is having your fingerprints all over it. “Fine, I’ll show you where to leave it but get that thing away from me and don’t call me ‘princess’, got it?” 

You get up with a huff, pushing past him and storming towards the house. Wooyoung takes his time, lingering behind for as long as he can, too stunned by this perfect view of you from behind to move.

“So…” he says when he's finally caught up to you, “How’s work?”

“Fine” you snap, navigating the halls with little care for if he can keep up. 

“You still best friends with that girl, uh, Charlotte?”

“Scarlet and yeah, still friends.”

“How about your little boyfriend?” 

His mocking tone makes you roll your eyes and you throw back a sharp look at him as you turn down a hall lined with sleek, black doors. “Broke up.”

Wooyoung pouts, hand over his heart, “Ouch, sorry to hear that.” 

He may be offering his condolences but that slick grin on his face says otherwise. Wooyoung’s been trying to get with you for as long as you can remember. You’re far from oblivious to it and for his part Wooyoung’s been far from subtle about it. Being mean to him has done nothing to discourage it but you continue to try, hoping that one day he’ll get the message and back off. It’s not that you don’t like him. The truth is the exact opposite. The crush that Wooyoung has on you is mutual. So mutual that just the sight of him has your stomach in knots. 

With those gorgeous features and that silky dark hair, he’s your every fantasy come true but he’s also trouble. You’ve seen what falling for a guy like that can do to a girl and you refuse to spend your days crying while he rots in a prison cell somewhere. You just weren’t built for it but sometimes when you’re alone and his eyes are on you the way they are now, his gaze hotter than the sun itself, you contemplate letting your inner desires cave to your better judgement. 

Refocusing on the task at hand, you push the thought away. “You can put it in here” you say, opening the door to the guest bedroom. 

Wooyoung steps inside, waiting for you to join him, “You scared to come in or something?” 

“No, I just don’t need to. Closet’s over there.” 

“I’m kinda blind without my glasses. Help me out?”

There’s that smile again, the one that has you melting beneath that cold exterior. Giving in, you walk over to the closet, sliding it open for him. 

“Here.” 

Wooyoung tosses the bag inside and when he does you swipe his glasses away, inspecting them. “I know these aren’t prescription by the way.” 

He just shrugs, snatching them back, “Yeah but they’re cool, aren’t they?” Stepping closer to you, he slips the glasses onto your face, beaming at how adorable you look. “They look cooler on you though.” 

A tingly feeling comes over you at the realization that you’re wearing something of his. It’s such a silly, schoolgirl thing but it’s nice and you can’t keep yourself from enjoying it. You crack a smile, a rare occurrence, and Wooyoung’s face lights up at this new achievement. 

“Oh my god, did you just smile at me?” he teases, tattooed fingers extending to brush along your arm. 

You grab his wrist before he can, staring him down behind the pitch black lenses. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” you deny, forcing the cursed smile way, “You must be, I don’t know…seeing things.” 

Wooyoung laughs, inching closer to you until you’re pressed against the doorway, a thin layer of clothes the only thing separating your barely clothed body from his. Taking the glasses off of you, he shoves them in his back pocket, making sure your eyes are visible when he asks this. “How long are we gonna do this?” 

“How long are we gonna do what?” you ask, your pulse racing at his closeness to you. He’s even more attractive up close, not a solitary flaw in sight, and the dark shift in his demeanor only makes you swoon harder. 

Twisting his arm free of your grip, he laces his fingers between yours, his thumb drawing light circles on the back of your hand. “Go back and forth like we don’t both want the same thing.”

It’d be typical of you to pull away and it crosses your mind that you should but for some reason you can’t. Chewing at your inner lip, you try to avert your eyes elsewhere, “And what exactly is it that you think I want?” 

Wooyoung tucks a finger under your chin, tilting your face closer to his. Your lips are dangerously close to touching. One wrong or right move—depending on how you look at it—and they’ll meet. 

“Me” he whispers and your body tenses, giving away just how correct he is. 

“I…I’ve never said that” you stutter, flustered by him for the first time. You feel naked, your secret laid bare. How could he know? 

“Then say it now. Say you don’t want me and I’ll stop” he says, brushing your lips with his. 

His tongue peeks out, teasing the seam of your lips and they part for him instantly, granting him easy access to the warmth of your mouth. That’s it. Years of fighting this blown to bits by a simple kiss. Only it’s not simple at all. The motion of his tongue is like a whirlwind, sweeping you up in him and nothing has ever felt so right. 

Your hands float up to cradle his face, your touch more precious to him than anything in the world. He didn’t know you’d surrender. For all he knew you could’ve kicked him in the balls and showed him the door. But it was worth the risk to put to rest what felt like an eternity of pining. He needed to know and now that he does there’s no turning back. He couldn’t if he wanted to.

The kiss grows deeper with every motion of your lips. Time itself seems to stand still as you fall deeper into each other, a thin haze falling over your minds at the heaven of this indulgence. Slipping a hand along the curve of your hip, he reaches back to grab a handful of your ass, groaning at how deliciously soft it is. 

“San says guys like you are no good for me” you say, the aching between your thighs betraying the very concept of that. 

His fingers find the strings of your bikini bottom, tugging at the carefully tied bows little by little until the fabric falls away. “Let me show you how good I can be for you, princess.”

You bite down on his lip just hard enough to make him pay for calling you that again. Wooyoung grins, kissing his way down your body. He takes care to press his mouth against every inch of you. Your collarbone, your breasts, your stomach. By the time he’s down on his knees, his tongue dragging along the meat of your thigh, your body’s vibrating from the sensation of being devoured so fully. But there’s still more of you to taste and Wooyoung’s drooling at the sight of it. 

He glances up at you eagerly, tapping his left shoulder and you know exactly what he’s asking. You drape your leg over his shoulder, your thigh pressed right up against his cheek. Wooyoung’s always known you to be this bold, confident girl but a sudden shyness washes over you and he can’t even lie, it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever…”

You bury your face in your hands, shielding yourself from the truth of his statement. It’s not like you haven’t been with guys before but they were all too focused on themselves to give you the special attention you so intensely longed for. Now, with Wooyoung’s face hovering close enough for his breath to tickle your clit, you can barely keep yourself together. 

Wooyoung strokes your entrance, swirling his fingertips in the juices dripping from you. “That’s a shame. She’s so pretty” he groans, curling his tongue against your clit.

You tremble at the contact, walls clenching as his digits press into you, scissoring you open. Moans spill into your palms, the feeling of him licking between your folds too perfect for you to keep quiet. 

He reaches up to grab your arm, tearing your hands away from your face. “We’re all alone, princess. Let me hear you.”

Slurping harshly at your pussy, his fingers sink in deeper, your cushy walls swallowing them hungrily. The silver watch on his wrist clicks with every rotation, matching the rhythm of him pounding your core. He purses his lips around your bud, alternating the amount of pressure he applies to make sure you can’t possibly predict what’s next. 

Your body tingles from head to toe, pleasure creeping into parts of you that you didn’t even know it could reach. The room’s just quiet enough to hear your arousal swishing around on his tongue, the space between his fingers squelching as you leak down his hand. You’ve never been this wet before and that knowledge only makes you wetter. A part of you has always known that Wooyoung could give you exactly what you needed. It seems criminal to have denied yourself of it for this long. 

“Woo, aah, baby…” you gasp, hands clamping down on his shoulders when he hits your sweet spot. 

He leans back, lips glistening with your essence. “Did you just call me ‘baby’?” he asks, lightly petting your spot to keep your walls quivering, “Sounds so cute coming from you.”

Wooyoung picks up speed, moisture splashing on your thighs as his fingers dip in and out of your core. Your nails dig into his shirt, hips rocking to match his movements. The pressure building is so intense it makes you dizzy. Your brain’s so scrambled that you have to remind yourself to breathe. You arch with that next desperate gasp for air and he takes advantage of this new angle, sneaking a third finger into you. 

“Say it again” he begs, still lapping at your clit, “Be a sweet little princess and say it for me.”

“Baby…” you whine as your glossy eyes meet his, “My baby.”

Wooyoung’s been hard for you since he saw you by the pool and it’s only gotten worse with your arousal coating his tongue but the sound of your voice—floaty and satisfied—calling him yours does something special to him. Something that has every bit of blood in his body rushing to his cock, the throbbing of it against his zipper borderline unbearable. 

A switch flips on in your brain reminding you that, your current position aside, he’s the one wrapped around your finger and there’s something incredibly hot about that. He’s a man that’s committed crimes you’d never dare ask about. He’s been to prison more than once, made men twice his size wish they were never born, and all his heart desires is for you to want him. You might not know what it feels like to wield the power he has outside of this room but, if it’s anything like what you’re feeling right now, it’s no wonder he can’t let it go. 

Summoning all of your inner strength, you thread your fingers in his hair, tilting his head away from you. “Take your clothes off” you demand, sliding your leg down from his shoulder. You do your best to put on a strong front but your legs are turning to jello and it’s only a matter of time before they give out. 

Wooyoung rises to his feet, staring back at you defiantly. You think for a fleeting moment that he might not listen. Maybe your bossy act was over when you opened your legs. But your fears are quieted with two simple words. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t take your eyes off of him as he strips down, slowly revealing a toned body mapped with tattoos and a cock you can’t resist wanting inside of you. “Like what you see?” he asks, pretending not to notice you blushing. 

It’s distracting how pretty the head of his cock is, pearls of precum decorating the swollen tip. “I’ve seen better” you lie, prying your attention away from it. 

Wooyoung takes your hand, wrapping it around his length to let you feel it pulse. “Have you?” he teases, noticing how you mindlessly trace each vein, admiring the slight curve of his cock as you stroke it. 

You shake your head, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, “Can I ride it? For…research purposes.”

“Research purposes? Is that it?” he laughs, guiding you over to the bed. 

Pulling you down onto him, he captures you in another sugary kiss, untying your top to let your bare breast rest in his palm. You straddle his lap, your pussy gliding down his length as he toys with your nipple, the bud pebbling with every pinch. He grabs your ass, lifting you up until his tip is pressed right up against your entrance. When he lets go your body slams down onto him, the thickness spreading you so wide that you scream between his lips. 

“You said you wanted a ride” he whispers, raising his hips to meet yours, “Take it.”

Tiny spots of color litter your vision, a flash of heat catching you off guard as you do what you can to adjust to the stretch. Your lashes flutter away the moisture forming in the corners of your eyes as you sit up in his lap, hands splayed out on his chest feeling it rise and fall with every uneven breath.

“Ah, fuck, princess…” he hisses when your full weight settles onto him and he bottoms out, his tip kissing your cervix. 

Your pussy hugs him tightly, hips rotating to feel him in every way you can. Feeling him in your hand is nothing compared to having him between your walls. You cling to him, picking up on all the finer details. It’s as if your body wants to remember it. Commit it to memory so that the ecstasy of this fullness never fades away, even after he slips out of you. Not that he has any intention to. He’d stay here forever if he could, enveloped by walls as smooth as velvet, his senses overwhelming him like its his first time. 

“Anyone ever tell you how cute you are?” he asks, gently massaging your thighs. 

You pout, knees pressing into the mattress as you lift up a few inches, pausing your movements. “Just cute?” 

Wooyoung grabs you by the hips, slamming you back down, and the force of his thrust almost makes you fold over. “Cute. Beautiful. Gorgeous…” he hums, palms tracing your figure, “You’re everything I could ever ask for and I knew from the day I met you that I’d do anything to have you.”

“Even get on my nerves?” you tease, intentionally flexing your walls around him. 

A whimper escapes him, the shock on his face beyond amusing to you. “Now that was cute” you giggle, repeating your actions but this time he holds back, refusing to give you the satisfaction. 

Lacing his fingers around your neck, he gives it a light squeeze that warns he can go harder. “Don’t threaten me. Do it” you dare, scratching red marks down his chest.

Wooyoung doesn’t hesitate, tightening his hold on your neck with a controlled strength that makes you feel safe and in danger all at the same time. His free hand finds your clit, his thumb toying with your bud as you ride him faster.

The deprivation of air leaves you lightheaded, heightening the feeling of everything else and you find yourself zoning out. There is no room, no bed, no house. Only the two of you pushing each other further towards the edge. Wooyoung can tell when you’re right there, the stuttering of your hips giving away how close you are to falling apart. 

“You gonna cum for me princess?” he coos, thrusting into you. 

You bounce in his lap—a mindless, helpless, whining mess—and his brain’s eating itself alive trying to decide where to look. At all those pretty faces you make? At the way your body jiggles from the impact? At the place where your bodies meet to make all of those delectable sounds? His eyes dart back and forth, indecisive and needy. He wants to take in all of you but there’s not enough time for it. His stomach muscles are tightening, that familiar tension clawing at his insides. 

He flicks your clit faster, maintaining his hold on your throat until you arch one last time, a moan ripping from your throat even in the absence of air. He turns you loose, the air rushing back into your lungs as your high takes you under wave by devastating wave. You collapse onto his chest and Wooyoung holds you close, too hypnotized by the feeling of you soaking his length to brace himself for how quickly he comes undone. He erupts deep within you, spraying your walls in thick layers of warmth that only make you crave more. 

It’d be the lie of the century to say that sex wasn’t something you’ve always wanted from each other but that was never just it. You wanted what came after too. The closeness of having your bodies intertwined, basking in the afterglow with his arms around you. The softness of his lips pressed to your forehead as he whispers the sweetest things to you. 

“You know you’re mine now, don’t you?” he asks, lovingly petting your hair. 

“Oh, really? Who says?” 

He leans down to kiss you and any shred of resistance melts away. You are his. You should’ve been all along. Somewhere in the back of your mind your worries linger. What if he gets into trouble he can’t get himself out of? What if you lose him one day? But, as he stares at you with stars in his eyes, you can’t imagine the alternative of not having him at all.

[ebwritesstuff]

Regulating Emotions (Villain POV – Part 1)

Villain's POV: "I knew they would come for you." Hero's POV: "I didn't think anyone was coming for me."

Part 2: Regulating Emotions (Hero POV – Part 2)

I suppose I'm a bit of a contrarian, but I feel like this concept fits the prompt well enough :) thanks to @whumperly for the prompt. There really aren't any TWs for this one, as it's mostly just dialogue and character building.

"Her" POV

I never used to struggle to regulate my emotions, but I suppose aging gives rise to a smaller threshold for patience in the face of stupidity than one might possess in youth. A sharp rapping knock at my door cuts through the irritation.

Unclench your jaw. Straighten your posture. Don't let your composure slip.

"Come in," I say, my tone even and unbothered.

A tall, lanky orderly scrambles in. He barely catches himself on the door handle before sprawling onto the ornate rug furnishing the hardwood floors of my office. He quickly rights himself, dusts off his jacket, and then stands at attention. What else should I expect from a boy of his age? He appears to be no more than 15 years old.

"As you were." I return to my laptop as I say the words, needing to finalize the proposal I've drafted for the head of defense at the next base over. Fingers clack swiftly atop a sleek keyboard as the boy speaks.

"Sir, we've run into a slight problem with the prisoner in room 8." Silence blossoms as my typing halts.

Deep breaths. Remember, this was to be expected.

"What sort of problem are we dealing with?" I say through gritted teeth. The orderly must've sensed my frustration, as his eyes widened and his Adam's apple bobbed almost comically before he replied.

"Well, he's uh–" the boy searches his mind for the right words. "He's refusing to eat, sir."

This is what they're wasting my time with? How incompetent could these men actually be?

"What's your name, kid?" I ask, making direct eye contact him as I do. He has to lean in to hear my words.

"My name, sir? It's Gus, sir. It's actually Augustine, sir, but 'Gus' for short, sir."

He's shaking and forgot his last name.

"Well, Gus, let me ask you something." I wait until he curtly nods, eyes wide and full of trepidation. "What have you done to encourage our guest to eat?"

Gus swallows. "I think they've been using the whip and maybe the cow prod, but I'm not completely sure," he trails off, presumably catching sight of the fire building behind my eyes. "I just got here 5 minutes ago and the first thing Chandler had me do was come here to tell you what's happening, sir."

I pause, leveraging his discomfort, then continue.

"It seems you haven't the slightest idea what's happening." I say cooly. He tenses. "Am I wrong?"

He blinks, eyes flitting around the room, trying to decide how to react to my blatant irritation with the situation. Then, out of nowhere, something seems to click in his head. He stares me down as he responds.

"No sir, you're not wrong. I've come to you ill-prepared and should've been more inquisitive before addressing you, sir. I shouldn't have made an excuse for my folly, sir. I'm ready and willing to accept whatever consequence you see fit, sir."

Now that was not the response I was expecting, but it sure was good. Perhaps he could be of use, after all.

"Let's go see what happening in room 8." I close my laptop and stand up from my chair. "Take me there."

"Yes, sir." He barks, relief obvious in his countenance. He turns and leads us to the holding wing.

I follow Gus out of the room, allowing myself to revel in the mounting excitement I feel at the thought of taking out some frustration on Chandler before Tristan's friends get here. After all, they would never abandon their second in command.

"I knew you would come for me." vs. "I didn't think anyone was coming."

[xitcantlast]

“Slut!”

Theodore Nott x f!reader

Summary: Inspired by the song “Slut!” by Taylor Swift.

Word Count: 1.5k. English is not my first language.

Divider Credit: @uzmacchiato

"Slut!"was something you heard too often passing the halls of Hogwarts. "She's so boy-crazy it's disgusting" was also common. You've lost friends because of the rumours. The rumours that said you slept with far more boys than you actually did. The truth was you have had a few boyfriends here and there, but you didn't even sleep with most of them.

Theodore Nott was somewhat the male equivalent of you, but worse. A playboy at his worst. He didn't even have girlfriends. He slept around. Breaking hearts left and right.

Of course, no one spoke badly about him. There were no rumours. Nothing. Girls were throwing themselves at his feet, and no one said something. He was praised for his charming ability to make girls fall for him.

So when the two of you started dating, there were endless whispers about your love life. And of course you were the centre of every single one.

"He's going to break up with her soon anyway."

"Why would he even settle for her? Everyone knows she just sleeps around."

From time to time you were tempted to throw something back, but with Theo beside you at all times, you didn't want to risk him getting involved.

Time passed. You and Theo grew closer and closer. He was always the gentleman. Opening doors for you, saving you a seat everywhere. Defending you even if you were wrong. Looking back, all the boys you dated in the past were just that. Boys. You both fell deeply in love. But the rumours didn't stop. They got worse.

Months passed, and you stopped caring. Your relationship was as strong as ever. Maybe it was worth it for once. Being called a slut didn't affect you as much as before.

When people saw that this relationship was going to last, they tried to manipulate it.

You were right out of Theo's dorm, exhausted from the long day and just wanting to lie down. You knocked and waited for him to let you in. No answer. Maybe he's still in class, you thought, and tried to open the door, but it was locked. You decided to just go in and wait for him.

"Alohomora" you whispered.

The lock clicked, and you opened the door.

You saw Theo on top of a girl, making out. His back was facing the door, but the girl could see you. Her eyes widen in surprise, but then a sly smile creeps on her face. Theo notices and turns around, confused.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

With that you swiftly turned around and left. You were on your way to your dorm, and you refused to let the tears fall, but as soon as the door closes behind you, they start falling and falling and falling. Even though your heart was clenching with sadness, that little voice in your head tells you you deserved it. It's what everyone told you, and that was the thought that stayed for the rest of the night, torturing you. Just this night, you promised yourself. Just this night I am allowed to grieve.

The next morning you woke up. Your eyes are puffy and red from all the crying, but nothing a bit of makeup and a charm couldn't fix. Before leaving, you glanced in the mirror one last time, and you looked like always; just your eyes were empty. Mentally you prepared yourself. By now the whole school should know what happened last night, and with that you made your way to the great hall.

Steady breaths, you told yourself. From the outside you seemed composed, but from the inside it felt like you were having a panic attack at any moment now. You entered the great hall, your eyes automatically searching for Theo, and when your eyes found him at your usual spot at the very end of the long table, you decided to just sit with Pansy. Throughout breakfast you kept glancing towards him, and each time you felt like breaking down. You had to grip the edge of the table to steady yourself. Thankfully Pansy decided to completely ignore the whispers around you and tried to have a normal conversation. Which wasn't really a conversation because you gave either short answers or you didn't answer at all; she didn't seem to mind though because she just kept on talking. Anything was better than silence, so you just let her.

Your first class was potions, and instead of taking your normal seat right next to Theo, you sat down next to Pansy. Theo shot you a confused and slightly worried glance which you decided to ignore. The audacity of him to think that you would sit next to him after the incident last night was honestly unmatched. The lesson continued, but you were hardly listening. You were mentally absent the entire time. You didn't even notice when everyone started to leave, and Pansy had to tap on your shoulder multiple times to break your trance. You stood up and packed your books back into your bag, but from the corner of your eye you could see Theo approaching you.

"I'm sorry I have to leave. I still have to talk with Professor McGonagall before my next lesson." Pansy says. She must have noticed Theo as well because she was fleeing the room.

You awkwardly turned around to Theo and tried to find an excuse to leave the room as well, but your mind was blank. You turned around hoping you could just escape, but a firm grip on your arm stopped you.

"Theo, let me go." you demanded.

"No. Not until you tell me what's up."

"Nothing is up. Don't you have to find someone to sleep with next?"

"What are you talking about? You are my girlfriend. Why would I sleep with someone else?"

And that's when you snapped.

"You don't know what I'm talking about? How dare you lie straight to my face? I saw you yesterday with that girl, and you even noticed me standing there, but all you did was continue. You don't even know what it took me to make this relationship work. I cut ties with friends because they were unsupportive. I was being called a slut by practically every girl at Hogwarts. There were girls who said you cheated on me just so we would break up and they could get with you, and the worst of all: it was all for nothing. You proved them all right." You tried to hold back the tears, but one escaped and rolled down your cheek. Almost like it was an instinct, Theo's hand reached up and cupped your cheek. His thumb wiping away the tear.

"Darling, you have to believe me. I didn't cheat. I was in the library all evening studying for the charms test. Mattheo was with me; you can ask him if you want to." Your eyes finally lifted from the floor up to his eyes. There was nothing but truth in his eyes.

"Then who was it?" you mumbled.

Theo sighed. "I don't know, love, but trust me, I will find out."

He reached forward and engulfed you in a hug. You let yourself completely melt into his embrace, burying your face in his neck. His familiar scent calming your nerves.

The days passed, and the perpetrator still wasn't found. You were studying in the library trying to concentrate on the topic, but the loud noises a few shelves down stole your attention. You were ready to give them a piece of your mind, but when you came nearer, you recognised Theo's voice.

"You used a fucking Polyjuice Potion." Theo exclaimed.

"Well, yeah. Someone had to put an end to your relationship." the other voice said.

"So just let me get this clear: you took the potion, and you and your girlfriend went to my dorm to snog." Theo's voice was seeping with anger.

"Correct. We even got some money from that." The other person said.

"Money?" Theo asked.

"Do you know how many girls still want to sleep with you? They would all pay a lot of money to get you two apart." The person said, a laugh escaping.

That's when it was over for Theo. He was about to throw himself at the boy, but that's when he saw you hiding behind the shelf.

"Darling, what are you doing here?" Theo asked.

"I was just studying, but then I heard you and was curious what was going on, and then I heard what you were talking about, and you know me, of course. I stayed and listened..." You began to ramble, and suddenly you found yourself in his embrace.

The boy took his chance and escaped. You tried to follow him, but Theo just kept you close.

"Love it's alright; I will find him later." Theo muttered and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

In that moment you knew it was all worth it for once.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.

©2025 xitcantlast . Please do not translate, copy, or take credit for my work.

[custody-if]

CUSTODY is a slice-of-life IF rated 17+ for explicit language, child abuse, substance abuse, self-destructive behavior, sexism, sexuality and more. Inspired by the movie Thirteen. Please avoid if you don’t enjoy reading these themes.

Note: I’m new to all of this so please bear with me!😭 Also know that I don’t condone to any of this, if you see or know a child is being abused please say something or call the authorities!

⟡ DEMO (TBA) ⟢ FORUM (TBA) ⟡ INTROS (TBA)

Step into a life of a teenager, trying to survive along with their three siblings, and with the court system trying to pull you all apart—you must not let them.

You always felt that you’ve been cursed since birth.

You and your siblings being taken away from your parents when you were six by child services due to child abuse and domestic violence really put a traumatic impact on your innocence and child like imagination. And thanks to the court systems and such you and your siblings weren’t split apart—imagine what could have happened if they did…

Moving from place to place and home to home has really put a weight on you, but that’s not the real issue. The real issue is them, your foster “parents” and they are something you can’t really get rid of either. Finally settling in your new home, California Los Angeles, you really thought everything would get better. I mean you just started becoming a teenager lucky number thirteen, by now life should be better right?

No.

In fact it got much worse.

Your older brother stopped coming home more, your sister started bringing a new boyfriend home every week because something obviously went wrong and she won’t tell you, and then there’s your younger brother who doesn’t even know what’s truly going on.

The world along with your body is changing every second.

Your now in the 8th grade where there is significant physical changes and emotions all over the place, your starting to notice things that weren’t as important then they were as before and the main focus is to fit in.

Completely shut down and make your own decisions because you feel like you’re old enough.

Make your foster parents life a living hell, and deal with your siblings.

Deal with running away, drama, fights, teen heartbreak, late-night parties, peer pressure, self-discovery, court systems, small teen romance, and parental relations along with family dysfunction…yea it’s a lot.

Will you be able to keep yourself from breaking?

✦ CUSTODY is highly inspired by the movie Thirteen but will have no spoilers! ✦

Full character customization (with wide-ranging effects on story and gameplay): pick your gender, height, build, personality, and sexuality.

Choose your background such as race and backstory.

Choose your aesthetic and how your bedroom looks.

Choose how you react with your older siblings (such as being clingy, avoidant, dependent, innocent, quiet and more).

Be a parent figure for your younger sibling or let the older ones do the work.

The choices you make affect how others around you look at you.

Customize your foster parents by choosing them to be FM, FF, or MM.

Choose to trust your foster parents or don’t it’s your choice. (You don’t have a choice)

Make your foster parents frustrated by being a rebellious teen or obedient.

Choose the family pet (Cat, dog, parrot, or bunny).

Try to fit in with the other kids in the neighborhood by choosing to do drugs, skip school, or dress more “revealing”. (That’s if you fall into the peer pressure)

Create friendships or be a loner.

Have a small crush, full time relationship (by choosing between 3 love interests)

Create a reputation for yourself in the 8th grade.

Avoid being split apart from your family by behaving or misbehave.

Child services checks in every time once a month (choose how to react when you see them).

⟡ MAIN CHARACTERS ⟢

The Older Brother: Sylas ⟡ he/him, 18 ⟢ The ordinary rebellious teenage boy who literally doesn’t give a shit about you or anyone else in that matter. Sylas who was born first already knows how it all goes, he told you many times how child services had almost taken him away before you was even born, and to be honest it almost sounds like he brags about it. Highly reserved and keeps to himself in his room or is either never home. You wondered why he never tried to save himself and run away. Maybe it’s because you and the rest of his siblings are his last hope in this hell hole.

Personality: confident, rebellious, short tempered, and charismatic. He likes dark humor and is not afraid to tell you how stupid you look.

Appearance: shoulder length dark brown messy wavy hair dyed with black streaks that he somehow makes looks good, with tanned like skin which is weird since he never leaves his room, and dark brown eyes along with his angel bite piercing, tongue piercing, eyebrow piercing, and ear piercings. He wears a black band t-shirt from the 90’s that he stole from a thrift store and wears ripped jeans with a black belt that has silver rhinestones along with black converses. He also has a full tattoo of angel wings on his back, rumor says it’s because it was his nickname back at his old “job” when he was 17.

Your Only Sister: Darcelle ⟡ she/her, 16 ⟢ Darcelle always gotten the spiteful looks from mom every time she was either getting ready for school or just to go hang out with her friends. It was obvious that she was jealous of her, even dad would give her unusual stares. Darcelle was one of the prettiest girls in her whole school and neighborhood, and I mean everyone loved her but that didn’t take her time away from you and the rest of her siblings. She would always take you out along with your younger brother when things in the house got really bad. Now..she doesn’t do that anymore. Maybe there’s something more going on than you realize.

Personality: sharp and quick-witted, she holds confidence on the outside but in the inside she’s emotionally unstable. She treats you and your siblings entirely different than she treats everyone else.

Appearance: long length brown wavy hair with dyed blonde highlights and amber eyes along with pierced ears that holds gold hoop earrings. She wears latte makeup which is what she tells you but you never understood what she meant. She has tanned skin just like your older brother but with moles all over her body. She wears a red polo crop top and jean shorts with long white socks with red stripes at the top and red adidas. She likes the color red which is obvious, her nails are also painted red with gold highlights.

Naive Younger Brother: Ollie or Oliver ⟡ he/him, 7 ⟢ You can’t blame him from being naive, I mean he’s only seven but even you knew what was really going on by the age of five. You guess that happens when neglecting parents choose to live through their youngest child. Your older brother always told you that Ollie wouldn’t survive in a world like this and should just hurry up and put him down before something worst gets to him first, he was quickly put to silence by your sister. What ever happens you will make sure nothing ever happens to Ollie, not while you’re still here.

Personality: shy, quiet, dependent, he has a hard time looking at people in the eyes and always hovers around you when he doesn’t have his toys to play with.

Appearance: short messy dark blonde wavy hair with brown eyes and tanned skin with freckles all over. He has a small scar near his eyebrow ever since he fell from climbing a tree, you can trust that he never climbed a tree ever again. He wears a normal dark green hoodie with a picture of a dinosaur on the front and long jean shorts with brown sneakers and white socks. He carries his stuffed bear that’s nearly falling apart every wear he goes.

(TBA)

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 54: The Farm

Summary: You adjust to your life on the MacTavish farm and learn some surprising things about yourself.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8,237 words

Warnings: Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, A/B/O, alternate universe, angst, emotions, fluff, animals, you might fall in love with a fictional dog, slight language.

A/N: I love this chapter and I hope you will too!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You’re trying to fight the tears as they sting your eyes, desperately trying to stop them from falling as you walk back towards the house. Lily steps aside, letting you enter before closing the door behind you.

“Aw, hen.” She coos, rubbing your back. “It’s okay tae cry.”

You can’t stop them. They would have fallen without the permission, but being allowed to cry only makes them fall faster. Lily wraps her arms around you, pulling you tight against her chest. Her hand strokes your hair as she coos softly at you, rocking you back and forth gently.

“Saying goodbye is always hard.” She says softly. “I damn near cry a river when Johnny-boy leaves. It’s hard when ye don’t know how long it’ll be until ye see them again. I’m sure ye know that well.”

“Yeah.” You sniffle. You don’t know when you’ll see Johnny or Simon again. If you’ll see them again. You shove that thought aside into the deep recesses of your mind. You have enough to cry about, you’re not going to entertain those kinds of thoughts right now.

Lily kisses the top of your head before pulling back, wiping your tears with her shirt sleeve. “There we go.” You sniffle, trying to stop the flood sliding down your cheeks. There’s a wet spot on her shirt, but she doesn’t seem to even notice. She gives you a soft smile, holding your face in her hands. “Ye remind me of my youngest girl. So sweet and soft and polite. All beta. Quite the opposite of the rest of her siblings. She’s in medical school now training tae be an omega specialist.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. It makes you think of Dr. Keller and how she’s doing with her new job, how things are going with Ashley. Maybe you’ll ask John if he knows when you see him again.

“I’m sure she’ll be great at it.” You say. “Takes a lot of patience to work with omegas sometimes.”

You think about how much patience Dr. Keller had for you at the beginning, while she worked on helping you through your trauma and unlearning what the institute taught you. It had taken a long time, but you’re here today because of her and everything she did for you.

“I had an omega specialist on base for a while.” You say. “I owe a lot to her for getting me through those first few months.”

“I’m so glad ye had someone tae support ye.” Lily says, petting your hair. The tears have slowed to almost none. “I’m sure it was a great help.”

“I don’t know if I would have made it without her.” You say quietly.

“I think you could have. There’s a strength to ye. A quiet strength. I can see it.” Lily says, squeezing you against her chest one more time. “Ye’d have tae have it putting up with those boys.”

You giggle, hugging her back for a moment before she releases you.

“Come on,” She says, patting your head. “I have someone I want ye tae meet.”

You tilt your head as she moves into the house, heading for the back door. You follow, unsure who else you have to meet besides maybe the sheep.

“Here,” She says, pulling out a pair of boots. “These should work until we can get ye a proper pair of Wellies in town.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You say, toeing out of your tennis shoes.

“Course we do.” She says, slipping on her own boots. Storm stands at the door, ready to run out as soon as its open. “Ye need a pair anyway.”

You don’t argue, following her out the door.

The back yard is spacious, a garden set up in one corner, and a veranda in the other with a barbecue. You can imagine sitting out there in the summer, eating a hot dog and watching the sun set over the green hills. Storm races around the yard, tail wagging, all excited.

“Still young at heart.” Lily says as she walks down the path towards the gate. There’s a barn off to the right in the distance, a dirt road leading between the pastures.

You can see why she insisted on the boots now as the ground gets muddy beyond the gate.

“Murray is over the hill with the sheep.” She says, pointing off to the right where a hill rises. “Spends most of his day out there.” She opens a gate to the left, passing through before holding it open for you. “I like to spend my time in here.”

Your boots squelch as you walk through the muddy grass towards a smaller barn.

“Ye ever lived on a farm before?” Lily asks as you approach what looks like a chicken coop.

“No,” you answer. “We always lived close to the base my dad was stationed at. We moved around too much to have animals.”

“He was in the service?” She asks.

You nod. “Marines. It was his entire personality.”

She chuckles. “Usually is.” She pauses in front of the coop. “These are my girls. I let them out early and collect eggs.”

There’s ten chickens that you can count roving around the coop. It’s decent sized, bigger than you would have imagined.

“I leave them in there so the hawks don’t get ‘em.” She says. “Now, who I wanted ye to meet,” She continues towards the barn, the grass getting more and more solid as you go.

You walk up a small hill to the barn, something standing beside it. Something large and brown.

“This here is my coo, Mabel.” Lily says, walking right up to the cow.

You nearly die of cuteness on the spot. Mabel is a highland cow, all thick hair and horns and perhaps the cutest cow you’ve ever seen.

“Ye can get close. She’s very sweet.” Lily says, patting Mabel on the side.

You step up to her, holding out a hand. “Hello Mabel.” You say, Mabel nosing at your hand for a moment. You pet her nose, feeling the coarse, thick hair draped over her face.

“She’s due for a haircut.” Lily says, brushing some of the hair to the side so Mabel can see better. “And she’ll start sheddin’ soon.”

“I love her.” You say, scratching Mabel between the horns.

“Yer welcome tae come out here whenever you’d like.” Lily says. “Mabel comes and goes out of her barn as she pleases. She’s good for some cuddles when you need some love.” Lily grins at you. “She’s a great listener too.”

You smile, continuing to pet Mabel.

You might just like living on a farm after all.

You had stayed with Mabel even after Lily had gone into the house to start on dinner. It wasn’t even lunch yet, but still she insisted on starting early for a proper Sunday roast. Lily had been right about Mabel being a good listener. She hadn’t minded you hugging her, leaning your weight against her body, petting her hair as you told her all of your woes and fears. Storm had stayed in the field with you, running around before settling in the grass with a stick.

Storm followed you back to the house around lunchtime, when you’d left Mabel with a pat and a promise to come back tomorrow. She hadn’t given much of a response, but somehow deep down you knew she understood.

“Will ye wipe her feet with the towel, hen?” Lily called from the kitchen when you entered with Storm.

“Yeah,” You say, spotting the towel hanging near the door. Storm stands dutifully, letting you wipe most of the mud off of her feet. She licks your face before heading for the kitchen, abandoning you for the prospect of food. You don’t mind. Your stomach is growling too.

“How many sandwiches would ye like, hen?” Lily asks, bringing a platter of chips and vegetables to the table.

“Just one.” You answer. She gives you a sideways glance. “I could probably eat two though.”

She smiles. “Two it is then. I won’t have ye going hungry here.”

You don’t doubt she means that.

“Murray’ll be in, in a bit.” She says, setting a plate of two sandwiches in front of you before taking the seat across from you. “He can make his own.”

“I could make my own too.” You suggest quietly.

“Nonsense.” Lily says, waving away the idea. “Yer a guest. I’m more’n happy tae feed ye.”

“Thank you, for doing all of this.” You say, taking a bite of your sandwich.

“Of course,” She says, grabbing a carrot off the platter. “John said ye were havin’ trouble bein’ on base. I wasnae gonna let ye live somewhere ye weren’t comfortable. Besides, I’ve been excited tae meet ye, get tae know ye.”

“I’ve been wanting to meet their families too.” You say. “I’ve met Kyle’s sister but that was it before now.”

“Aye, those Garricks are something special.” She says.

“They really are.” You grin. “Like perfect angels.”

“Indeed.” She says.

Silence falls over the table as you eat, Storm sitting by your side on the floor, staring longingly at your food. You’re tempted to ‘accidentally’ drop a piece but you’re not sure if that’ll be allowed so instead you try and look away, ignoring those big puppy eyes staring into your soul.

Murray comes in right before you finish eating, toeing off his boots at the door. His pants are splattered with mud, as is his shirt as he pulls off his jacket.

“Yers are in the kitchen.” Lily says, finishing off her own sandwich.

“Thank ye, love.” He kisses Lily’s cheek before heading into the kitchen.

“I hear ye like tae read.” Lily says, turning back to you.

You nod. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well help yerself to any of the books on the shelves. The kids have some books in their rooms too. Yer more’n welcome tae browse those too.” She says, standing from the table. She takes your plate, heading to the kitchen as Murray comes out with his own plate of sandwiches.

“Did ye have a good mornin’?” He asks, taking his seat at the head of the table.

You nod. “I got to see the chickens and met Mabel.”

“Good.” He smiles. “Mabel’s a sweet old girl.”

“She is. I’ve never been around animals, outside of a few petting zoos.” You say. “But I already like Mabel a lot.”

“Aye, we’ll turn ye into a farm girl in no time.” Murray grins. “Ye can see the sheep when I bring ‘em in later too.”

“I’d like that.” You say.

After lunch you settle into the couch with a book pulled off one of the many shelves in the room. Storm has joined you, curling up beside you with her head in your lap.

“That dog really likes ye.” Lily says as she joins you, pulling out her knitting.

You smile, petting Storm’s head. “I’m not sure why.”

“Dogs are good judges of character.” She says. “She senses something in ye.”

You scratch behind Storm’s ears as silence falls over the room again and you return to reading your book. You wonder if it’s really true, if Storm can sense something about you that’s drawing her in. Whatever it is, you’re glad she likes you. It could be the opposite, you suppose. She could dislike you. You wonder what that would say about your character if that were the case.

Regardless, you’re growing to find her presence comforting. The entire house is comforting, despite the turmoil you still feel inside. The farm is a good distraction, but in these moments of silence you know you’re going to struggle the most. These moments where you have to be present, you have to face down the truth that you’re hundreds of miles from your pack and there’s still a couple weeks before you’ll see them again...before you’ll see John again. It’ll be just you and John for a while. Then Kyle will join you. Then you’ll be three separated from the two others.

It breaks your heart that they won’t retire, but you’d never admit that.

Maybe someday they’ll make that decision, but you know it won’t be anytime soon.

You shift on the couch, Storm lifting her head before settling back down, adjusting herself so she’s even closer to you than she was before, almost as if she can sense the shift in your emotions.

You scan the photos on the wall in the hallway. You’ve been roving around waiting for dinner to be ready, taking in all of the artwork and the many photos decorating the walls. Photos of Johnny and his siblings as kids, family portraits, artistic shots of the farm and the animals and the kids with them. You’ve even found a framed photo of Storm and Bron on the wall.

You pass by a shadow box decorated with military medals and stripes. You’d almost assume it was Johnny’s but you know he’ll still wear his when the occasion requires. No, these are Murray’s. Chief Petty Officer MacTavish.

“You served?” You ask as the man himself rounds the corner.

He pauses, glancing at the box before nodding. “Aye. Royal Navy. Joined as soon as I graduated. Didnae know what else tae do with myself. I was forced to retire when Johnny was still a lad. Hip injury.” He smiles as he stares at the medals. “Moved the family out here, bought a few sheep, rest is history.”

“You must be proud of Johnny then.” You say. You can piece together that his father’s history with the armed forces played a role in his own decision to join.

“Aye. Though his job scares the piss out of me sometimes.” He pats your back. “I hear your own father served.”

You nod as the two of you walk down the hall. “Marines.” You say. “I can’t imagine him doing anything else. He was...very patriotic. Spent a lot of time preaching the necessity of giving our lives to protect the country to us kids. Two of my three older brothers joined too. The rest of us went on to do other things. I never thought I’d be back in it, though.”

“That must have been a shock.” Lily says as the two of you arrive at the table. She’s setting a pan of roast beef on the table. “I can only imagine what it was like tae leave that world only to be right back in it.”

“I was in deeper than I was with my dad.” You say, taking your seat. “It was an adjustment, but I’ll honestly say I’m glad I’m getting to leave it behind.”

“I don’t blame ye one bit.” She says, taking a seat at the table. “The stress is unimaginable, even when they’re not goin’ off tae war.” She passes a glance at Murray. “I’m glad yer gettin’ this chance.”

“Aye, I’m proud of John fer retiring. It’s time he settled down.” Murray says, staring to load his plate.

Roast beef, mashed potatoes, vegetables, yorkshire pudding. A proper Sunday roast, or so you’re told.

“You know him well?” You ask curiously as you start to load your own plate.

“Aye, he’s been here a few times since Johnny joined his pack.” Murray says.

“We were skeptical at first, but he proved himself alright.” Lily says. “He’s a good alpha, and a good man.”

“But whatever magic ye worked tae get him to retire…” Murray grins. “Consider it an act of god.”

You smile bashfully, your face warming just a bit. “I’m not sure what I did exactly, besides just existing in his life.”

“Sometimes that’s all a man needs.” Lily says, giving you a smile.

The Sunday roast is delicious. It’s better than what you ate at restaurants in town during the weekends that John insisted everyone go out for Sunday dinner. It’s even better than your own attempts at the cottage, though you’d never tell Dr. Keller that.

You’ll have to get some recipes from Lily before you leave.

After dinner the three of you settle in the living room again, Murray turning on the TV. Storm lays at your feet, Bron laying between you and Murray. You’ve got a beer in your hand, cold where it rests against your leg. Murray hadn’t even asked, instead passing one to you silently. You’d taken it, knowing it would be rude to refuse. It’s not your first time drinking by far. You and your brothers used to sneak sips here and there during barbecues and holidays, and the guys have made sure to corrupt you in that way.

Still, the alcohol makes you feel warm as you drink it, chasing away the nerves that nightfall brings.

A lot of things can happen at night, and you can feel the looming darkness outside. It’s darker here than on base, no light pollution to offer some respite from the inky blackness outside.

You’ve been avoiding looking at the windows, even with the curtains closed.

Despite the nagging fear at the back of your brain, the beer makes you feel warm and fuzzy. That, and Storm’s comforting presence against your feet. It’s nice knowing there’s someone that will sense something off before even you can.

It’s late by the time you decide to call it a night. Storm follows you to your room, standing in the doorway as you pull clothes out of your bag.

“C’mon Stormy.” Lily says, patting her back. “Goodnight, hen.”

“Goodnight.” You call, watching Storm hesitate before heading down the hallway with Lily.

You get ready for bed before turning out the light, crawling under the covers. You can still smell a bit of Johnny on the pillow and blankets. You breathe in his spicy, citrusy scent. It blends with the earthy scent of John on your shirt, offering up a comforting cocktail of your boys. You wish they were there still in person, but you’ll take their scents.

You wonder how long it will be until they fade away. You doubt they’ll last the entire time you’re here.

You grab your phone from the nightstand, pulling up John’s number. He had texted you earlier letting you know they made it safe, but you need to hear his voice. You listen to it ring, holding your breath. It’s late, and you half expect him to be in bed already. He has an early morning tomorrow, unless he decides to skip working out...you doubt he’ll do that though, now that he doesn’t have you to worry about.

“Hello, sweetheart.” His voice is rough, tired sounding.

“Hi,” you greet him quietly quietly, letting out a breath. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” There’s rustling on the other side of the line. “I was laying awake.”

“Same.” you say, pulling the covers up around you.

“How are things going up there?” He asks.

“Good.” you answer honestly. “I met a cow today.”

“Did you?” he chuckles. “How did that go?”

“Good. I really like her. She’s a good listener.” you listen to his chuckle on the other end. “Storm has also really taken to me.”

“Good,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Lily and Murray treating you alright?”

“Yeah,” you say, rolling onto your side. “They’re amazing. Lily’s a really good cook. Makes me feel sorry for you that you’re going to have to eat my cooking.”

“Your cooking isn’t that bad.” He says. “I survived on it at the cottage.”

“Yeah but that was only a couple times. I can make like three things confidently.”

“Then we’ll learn together. We’ll only have to survive until Kyle’s paperwork is approved. Then he can cook. It’ll be good for him, having something to do.”

What are you going to do? You want to ask it but you’re not sure how well that will go over. What is he going to do once he’s retired? Maybe you can convince him to start a farm. It would be good for him to have some physical work to do every day. He’s used to never having a day off, and you don’t get days off on a farm.

You’ll worry about that later, when the time actually comes.

“How are things down there?” You ask. “How are the boys.”

“Coping.” He says. “Johnny pouted the entire way home. It’s not the same being just us again. We got so used to your presence it feels empty.”

A small smile forms on your lips. “It feels weird not having you here with me. I’m not sure I can survive.”

“I think we can make it.” He says. “It’s only for a couple weeks at most. By the end you’ll be sad to leave.”

“I do like it here.” You muse. “It’s cozy and comfortable and I like having animals around. Wish you were here though.”

“Soon.” He says, muffling a yawn.

“You should get some sleep. Early morning tomorrow, right?”

He hums. “Earlier than I’d like.”

“Ready to retire?” You ask.

“I can feel it coming.” He says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You should get some rest too. I know you didn’t sleep well last night.”

You likely won’t sleep well tonight either, but you won’t tell him that. You don’t want him to worry more than he already is. “I never sleep well the first night in a new place.”

He hums again. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, John.” You say quietly, holding the phone to your ear until he ends the call.

You stare at the screen for a moment before setting your phone on the nightstand once more. You feel more comfortable now after hearing John’s voice. It’s soothed some of the nerves churning in your stomach. He’s just a phone call away, and soon he’ll be back within reach. Just a couple weeks at most. You should be able to survive that.

You hope you will.

You do manage to sleep.

There’s light coming through the curtains when you wake, and you can hear the faint clacking of dishes down the hall. You squint blearily at your phone. It’s past nine. You’ve slept in later than you meant to. They’re early risers, being on a farm and all. You realized that yesterday when you heard them moving around before dawn.

Here you’ve gone and slept in.

You get up, changing clothes before heading to the bathroom.

Lily’s in the kitchen when you get up, still a bit bleary from a rough night’s sleep.

“Morning, hen.” She says, turning from the dishes when she hears you patter in.

“Sorry, I slept in.” You say, rubbing your eyes.

“None of that now, yer a guest. Ye can sleep in as late as ye’d like.” She says, waving her hand. “I’ve saved some breakfast for ye. Let me heat it up.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You say.

“Of course I do. I want to.” She says, pushing you out of the kitchen. “Juice or coffee?”

“Juice is fine.” You say, taking a seat at the table. Storm comes over to you, pawing at your hand. You give her some pets, scratching behind her ear.

“Here ye are.” Lily says, bringing you a plate loaded with eggs and sausage and toast. She sets it down in front of you along with a glass of orange juice. It’s probably freshly squeezed.

“Thank you. It looks delicious.” You say, picking up your fork.

It tastes delicious too. You never knew a simple eggs and sausage and toast could taste so good. Lily must work magic in the kitchen. That can be the only explanation for how wonderful she can make even the simplest food taste.

You slip on your borrowed boots after you finish eating, following Lily out into the yard again. Storm trots along beside you, tongue hanging out in excitement.

“Ye ever driven an ATV before?” Lily asks you, and you notice one parked next to the gate just past the fence. You hadn’t noticed it yesterday.

You shake your head. “No.”

She pats your shoulder. “I’ll teach ye soon. I’m gonnae go grab some hay from the barn for Mabel. Ye go on ahead and start givin’ her a good brushin’.”

Lily opens the gate to the pasture where the barn sits before climbing on the ATV. You open the other gate to Mabel’s pasture, Storm running through as soon as its open. You leave it open, passing the chickens on your hike up the small hill to where Mabel stands, looking like she has no care in the world.

Her brush hangs in her small barn and you grab it off the wall. Her hair is thick and coarse, the brush catching on a few tangles. You’re careful not to pull too hard, working the knots out gently.

Lily arrives on the ATV, towing a small trailer behind it stacked with bales of hay.

“Come and help me unload this, hen.” She says, climbing off the ATV.

You shove the brush into your back pocket, treading through the grass to the stack of hay bales. Lily tosses you a pair of gloves, something you’re grateful for as soon as you put your hands on the hay. It pokes at you, a few pieces even sticking you through the gloves.

It’s also heavy.

Your arms shake as you lift one of the bales, just managing to get it up off the stack. You heft it the few feet to the barn, stacking it on top of the others. Lily lifts the next bale, making it seem almost easy.

“They’re heavy.” You say, letting out a breath as you return to grab the next one.

“Aye.” Lily says with a grin. “We’ve got tae get yer muscles built up. Turn ye into a proper farm girl in no time.”

You’re out of breath by the time the last bale has been stacked, a few small scratches on your arms where you’d pushed up the sleeves of your sweatshirt to avoid getting hay in the fabric. Somehow you’ve still managed, feeling the small pokes even through your jeans.

“Keep workin’ on Mabel, I’m gonnae take the trailer back.” Lily says.

Your arms feel like jelly as you grab the brush out of your pocket again, returning to brushing Mabel’s back. You knew you were out of shape compared to what you once were, but you think even if you weren’t that would have been a struggle. Farm work is hard and you’ve barely had a taste of it. It speaks volumes of just how strong Johnny’s parents are that they can do this every day.

Lily returns, walking up the hill to where you are. “We refill her ‘bout once a week.” She says, patting Mabel’s nose. “Can’t keep all of it here, or she’ll eat it all.”

You grin, Mabel’s head tilting as you brush a spot on the side of her neck. You’re getting covered in cow hair, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“She’ll be sheddin’ her winter coat soon.” Lily says running her fingers through Mabel’s hair, picking out a few chunks. “Things get very hairy up here.”

You laugh, brushing under Mabel’s chin as she tilts her head up for you. “I can imagine.”

“I’m gonnae go find Murray, ye stay out here as long as ye like.” She says, patting your shoulder before heading back down to the ATV.

Storm stays in the pasture with you again, happily laying in the grass while you finish up brushing Mabel.

You lean against her side, resting your head on her back. “We’ll be okay, right?” You ask, not expecting an answer, and you don’t get one aside from a loud cluck from a chicken.

You head back into the house, Storm following you. You toe off your boots at the door, wiping down Storm’s feet before heading into the living room. You pick up the book you had been reading from the coffee table, settling on the couch. Storm jumps up beside you, sitting there staring expectantly.

You stare back, tilting your head. “What?”

She puts a paw on your leg, sniffing your cheek.

“Oh alright.” You put your book to the side before scratching her neck. She leans into you, licking your arm as you scratch her. “You’re so soft.” You say, hugging her against your chest as you scratch down her back. “Must have gotten a bath recently, huh?”

You kiss her head before releasing her, going back to your book. She curls up next to you, leaning against your leg. You drop a hand to rest against her back, feeling her comforting warmth against you.

The days go by and you settle into a bit of a routine on the farm. You start to wake up earlier and earlier, adjusting to hearing Lily and Murray up and moving around early in the morning. You’re still not sleeping well, but you are managing to get some sleep at night.

John’s called every day, wanting to know how you’re doing, how you’re settling in. It gets easier and easier to tell him you’re doing alright, as you start to believe it. But no matter how comfortable you get in Lily and Murray’s home, there’s still a deep ache in your chest, a yearning for your pack, for your alpha.

You thought it might be weird being around an unknown alpha, but Murray has been careful to keep himself from being overbearing and overwhelming. Sometimes you forget he’s an alpha, but his strong scent reminds you every time you smell it. He’s not like any alpha you’ve been around before, but then again, you think he has Lily to thank for that.

You don’t know many alphas that chose to take beta mates over omegas. It was so unheard of in your circle of friends and family friends growing up. Your father surrounded himself with like-minded alphas, traditionalists that prided themselves on scoring a prize omega who could give them pups.

You suppose John had taken a beta as his mate, but you know that dynamic is different, and it became even more complex once you were added into the picture. Maybe John would have wound up more like Murray had it just been him and Kyle in the long run.

A beta’s soothing presence is enough to calm and alpha’s instincts over time. It probably helps that he’s older, those instincts less strong now than they would have been likely just a few years ago. You know alphas calm over time, those instincts settling as they get older, as they settle down.

You wonder how long it will take John’s instincts to start settling now that he’s retiring out of a high-stress job.

You’ve taken to being on the farm and helping out more and more. Mabel has become your lifeline, your stand-in therapist. It’s a bit healing, laying against her side, telling her how much you miss your pack, how nervous you are about this new chapter in your life, how fast things seem to be moving. You’ve only been with your pack for just over a year now and already so many things have happened, so many things have changed. She may not be able to offer much in terms of conversation or advice, but it’s still comforting to have someone there who can listen and not judge.

You’ve even come to know the chickens a bit, gathering eggs a couple times when you’ve gotten up early enough to beat Lily to it. You’ve had your fingers pecked more than a few times, but you’re growing fearless around them, shoving the broody ones to the side to grab their eggs.

A week goes by before you know it, settling into the clock-like rotation of life on a farm. It’s comforting to have a schedule, to always have something to do. It reminds you of being on base, of conforming to the guys’ schedules. You prefer this kind of schedule and work, though.

Maybe you can talk John into a farm. It would be good for him, help him settle into civilian life where you don’t have someone telling you what to do...or where you’re not the someone telling others what to do.

You wake early on Sunday, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you lay in bed for a moment. It’s early, but still you hear Lily and Murray moving around. You feel like dragging your feet this morning, but you don’t, sliding out of bed before grabbing clothes.

“Morning Stormy.” You say, greeting the dog laying at your door. She’s taken up vigil in the mornings, laying there waiting for you to get up.

You pat her head before stepping over her, heading for the bathroom. Lily had done some washing for you, despite your insistence that you could do it yourself. She was keen to do as much for you as possible. She said she misses being able to mother someone. Murray won’t let her. He’s stubborn like that.

You head for the kitchen, Lily already up with breakfast at the table.

“Mornin’ hen.” She greets you, pouring coffee into a mug. Murray is at the table as well, sipping his own cup.

“Morning.” You say, taking your seat and the offered mug. “You’re up early.”

“It’s Sunday. We’re goin’ tae Mass today.” Lily explains.

You hadn’t really thought much about it, though you should have guessed given the candles and the crucifix on the wall that they were religious. The idea of Johnny being raised Catholic is hard for you to grasp.

“Did ye go to church growin’ up?” Murray asks you as Lily sets a plate of food in front of you.

“Not really.” You say. “Mostly just Christmas and Easter.” As patriotic as your father was, he didn’t pay much mind to religion. Sundays were for beer and football and a good dinner.

“We try tae go every Sunday.” Lily says. “Though we don’t always make it.”

Like last Sunday, you think. They had been busy with helping you get settled in.

“Gives us an excuse tae go into town.” Murray says.

“We’ll do some shoppin’ while we’re there.” Lily says. “Get ye anythin’ ye might need too.”

You’re not sure what you might need. You thought you had brought enough to last you the couple weeks, though something tells you Lily is going to find something you need. She had said something about getting you a proper pair of boots. You wonder what else she might decide you need.

Church went well, although you had no idea what a Catholic Mass was like, nor what you were supposed to do, but you followed along well enough. Shopping afterward had gone as you expected. You got your new pair of boots, strawberry printed, and Lily had decided you needed a couple new pairs of jeans. It was true yours were starting to show the wear and tear of farm life, and they weren’t proper work jeans, according to her. You weren’t sure what that meant, but she hadn’t listened to your protests, buying you the pants anyway.

It was a nice, warm day so Lily had taken you out to her garden to help her set up for the spring plants she’d grow. You pulled weeds, harvested some of the last winter vegetables, dug holes, played in the dirt. It felt good doing something with your hands. It gave you purpose, something you haven’t felt in a while.

Sure, being an omega you had your purpose, but lately it had been a bit...mundane. You had been forced into the box of ‘sit there and look pretty and offer us some comfort,’ even if they hadn’t realized they were doing it. You hadn’t even really noticed it until now, until you got some space from it. Now that you were actually doing things, now that you had a true purpose, helping out on the farm, you realized just how deep you had been shoved into that box.

Maybe coming here was a good thing after all.

That night you cry for the first time. You’re not sure why. Maybe the dirt under your fingernails had awoken something in you, some deep crevasse of your emotions opening under your feet.

It’s a silent cry in the darkness, the moon bright through the curtains, bathing your room with more light than even your nightlight. You’d just hung up the call from John and suddenly tears are falling down your cheeks. You miss him. You miss them all. You’re terrified for Simon and Johnny, you’re yearning for your alpha, for your comfort. You want the bed to dip behind you, for his arms to slide around you and hold you close. You want his scent to wrap around you and permeate your being.

You’re homesick.

The magic of the first week has worn off and now you’re feeling the complex emotions that have been brewing under the surface. There’s a deep ache in your chest, harsh and painful. You curl up tight in a ball, trying to ease the pain of missing home, of missing your alpha.

You drift off into a hazy sleep, floating in and out all night until you finally manage to slip into a deep sleep for a couple of hours early in the morning.

You wake later than you would have wanted to, and for a moment you forget where you are. There’s a warm weight against your back, and for a moment you think you’re back in the barracks, that John is sleeping behind you, pressed up against your back.

But as you wake up, you remember where you are: hundreds of miles away from the barracks and John.

The sun is up, shining its golden light through your window. You turn as best you can, the heavy weight pinning the blankets down over you.

You’re met with black and white fur. Storm has somehow snuck her way into your room and curled up on the bed with you. Tears prick your eyes as you turn to face her, running a hand down her back. She lets out a sigh, shifting her body onto her side so her head rests on your pillow.

“Hi Storm.” You whisper, burying your face in her fur.

She lays there, breathing steady and even as you try not to cry, as you fight the emotions welling up inside of you again. Storm licks your hand, dragging her soft tongue against your skin, almost like she’s trying to lick up your sadness.

“Okay, okay,” You sniffle, pulling your hand away. You lay there for a moment longer, both of you still in the quiet morning. Lily must be out gathering eggs or taking care of Mabel. You don’t feel bad for sleeping in this time.

Storm climbs down off the bed as you sit up, stretching your arms over your head. You grab a change of clothes before heading for the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Storm is waiting in the hallway for you and the two of you walk together towards the kitchen. Lily is sitting at the table, reading a magazine.

“Mornin’, hen.” She greets you before looking down at Storm. “Mornin’ ye sneak. Sorry if she disturbed ye. I tried to get her back out.”

You shake your head. “She didn’t disturb me. I didn’t even know she was there.”

Lily hums, patting Storm’s head. “Ye must have needed her, then.”

Tears start to prick behind your eyes, those emotions that you thought you had shoved down starting to come back to the surface. You know Lily won’t judge you for crying, for being homesick, but still that fear of showing too many emotions starts to overwhelm you.

“It’s alright, hen.” Lily says, on her feet before you even know it, pulling you into a hug. “Homesick, huh.”

It’s not a question.

“I understand.” She says softly, patting your head as you struggle to hold those emotions down. “I would be too.”

Her hands rub your back, her scent strong in the air as she tries to help comfort you. You both know it won’t be enough, but still the thought of it is sweet. She’s doing her best to try and make this easy for you, to try and help you through the inevitable breakdown of missing your pack and your alpha. From what John has said, it won’t be long before he’s finally free of the shackles of the military. A few more days at most before he’ll be making the final drive up here to retrieve you, and you’ll move on to whatever is waiting for you on the other side.

It makes you sad to leave too, though. You’ve grown comfortable on the farm, adjusting to life here and its routine and stability. It’s kept you more active than anything, and you’re going to miss having an excuse to do more than read and sleep all day. Of course, taking care of a house will involve a lot more, but you know there’s only so much you can do even in that regard.

You want to feel useful.

You don’t cry as much as you thought you might. Your thoughts have kept you stable, ideas forming, plans putting themselves together. You lean against Lily’s chest, arms wrapped around her. You’ll be forever grateful for everything she’s done for you, even if she doesn’t realize she’s done it.

You pull away, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Thank you.” You say.

Lily gives you a soft smile, petting your hair. “Of course, hen. Ye know I’m always here if you need a hug.”

You laugh, sniffling. “You give good hugs.”

“I’ve been told that.” She pats the top of your head. “Now, let’s get some food in ye.”

Storm sleeps in your room from then on. You’re not sure Lily could change her mind even if she tried. She’s on the bed as soon as you open the door to Johnny’s room, making herself at home. You’re silently grateful for her comforting presence, often waking cuddling her up on your pillow.

You’ve become inseparable, unless Lily is in the kitchen, then she betrays you for the prospect of any handouts. You don’t blame her one bit. You’d be in there begging too if Lily didn’t involve you as much as she has started doing. You had asked for recipes, so Lily had taken that as her excuse to start mentoring you in the kitchen, teaching you everything she knows.

You’ve been kept busy, and you’re grateful for it.

Storm follows you around as you do your chores, self-appointed chores. You fetch more hay for Mabel as she’s running low, give her a good brush to help loosen some of her shedding fur, feed the chickens and gather the eggs, pick a few of the last winter vegetables that have ripened before helping Lily make lunch.

You even get to hold a baby lamb.

You fall in love almost instantly.

Another animal to add to your list of animals to convince John to get for you.

Your last day on the farm comes with an unexpected morning phone call. Usually John called at night, but this time catches you by surprise at the breakfast table. You got up to answer, Storm following you down the hall as you speak to John.

“Hello?”

“Hello, sweetheart.” John says. “I have good news.”

You already know what he’s going to say. “Oh?”

“My paperwork was finalized this morning. I’ll be coming up tomorrow to get you.”

Nerves and excitement boil in your stomach. You’re excited that it’s finally happened, that he’s finally free and you’ll get to see him in just a few hours. At the same time you’re nervous for what this means, for this start of the new chapter. There’s also a bittersweet edge to it, from the thought of leaving the farm after the wonderful almost two weeks you’ve spent here.

“That’s great!” You say, trying to sound convincing, channeling that inner excitement.

“I’ll call before I leave so you know when to expect me.” He says, sounding almost relieved.

“Sounds good.” You say, leaning down to pet Storm as she paws at you. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“I know. It’s been long enough.” He says. “I have to get packing, but I’ll talk to you tonight, okay?”

You nod even though he can’t see you. “Okay.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too.”

You walk back to the table, your stomach in knots. Excitement and nerves still race through you. You’re not quite sure what to feel yet, all of it a bit too much at once.

“Everything alright?” Murray asks.

You nod. “John’s paperwork finally went through. He’ll be here tomorrow.”

Lily cheers. “That’s wonderful news! I’m sure yer goin’ tae be happy to see him.”

You nod again. “I am. I’ve missed him.”

“I bet.” She says reaching over to pat your hand.

“But I’m going to be sad to leave too.” You say. “I’ve really enjoyed being here.”

“And we’ve enjoyed havin’ ye.” Murray says.

“Ye can always visit, whenever ye want to.” Lily says, giving you a smile. “Yer always welcome here.”

“Thank you.” You say, trying to avoid looking down at Storm and her puppy eyes. You have a feeling she’ll be the hardest to say goodbye to.

You do your chores the next morning despite the fact John will arrive in a few hours. It just feels right to spend your last day on the farm doing as much as you can, savoring your last taste of farm life. You’ll miss Mabel, and you’ll even miss the chickens despite the few little cuts on your hands from sharp beaks. You’ll miss having stuff to do. Sure, you’re going to settle into your new life easier than John will, but at the same time, you’re going to withdraw from this routine you’ve grown to follow.

You spend the time after lunch cuddling with Storm on the couch. She seems sadder than usual, almost as if she knows this is going to be goodbye for now. Even Bron is at your feet, curled in a ball as you all wait for the sound of tires on the gravel driveway. Your bags are packed and by the door, including your Wellies, ready to be taken away from this surrogate home, from your surrogate family. Well, they are your family, you suppose. An extension of your pack member.

You’re not ready to get up as the sound of tires eventually does come, Murray rising from his seat to greet John at the door. You let out a sigh, patting Storm one more time before standing.

It feels almost surreal seeing John again after nearly two weeks away. He greets you with open arms and a smile, not even waiting for anything to be said. You’re in his arms almost as fast as he opened them, pressing yourself close against his chest. You’ve been without him for longer, but this time it felt different. You were hanging over the precipice of a drastic change. His arrival has been the first step in that change, the start of a new chapter in both of your lives.

“I trust you’ve been well taken care of.” He says as you pull away.

“Very well.” You say, smiling.

“And ye better keep that up.” Lily says threateningly.

“Don’t worry, I will.” He says, giving her a hug. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s no problem. We’re always happy to have some company.” She says.

“Ye can visit us any time ye like.” Murray says, shaking John’s hand.

John grabs your bags, the four of you heading outside with the dogs. You hug Lily, tears falling as you say your goodbye.

“Call me.” She says, patting your back. “For anything, even just tae chat. And don’t forget to visit.”

“Thank you.” You say, wiping your cheeks. “For everything.”

“Yer welcome, hen.” She says, brushing a hand over your head.

“Thank you, too.” You say to Murray, giving him a hug as well.

“Of course.” He says, patting your back. “It was our pleasure.”

You kneel down in the gravel, giving Storm a hug. She licks your cheek, letting out a quiet whine. “I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

She gives you one last lick before you stand, giving Bron some pats before you turn away, heading towards the car. Sadness but also joy fills you as you climb into the passenger seat, buckling your seat belt. You turn to look behind you, the car full of boxes, but in the seat behind John your big bear sits, buckled in.

You smile softly as John climbs into the driver’s seat, turning to look at you before he turns on the car.

“Ready?” He asks.

You nod. “Ready.”

He turns the key, the car rumbling to life beneath you. They wave as you drive down the driveway, and you watch the house until it disappears around the bend. You turn back in your seat, letting out a sigh as John turns onto the road towards Glasgow.

“Can we get a dog? And some chickens? And a cow? And some sheep?” you ask.

John chuckles. “Let’s find a place to live, first. Then we’ll talk about that.”

To be notified about new chapters, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

[omniphilic]

WAIT MARK ACCIDENTALLY KNOCKING YOU UP???, (from the last bit of the other ask) I just got to know how that would play out because omg 😭😭😭

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀18+ content below / MDNI tw: pregnancy stuff, baby stuff, medical intervention (it's reader's choice), angst ig?? but also a little fluffy

You see, if you were the responsible, reasonable, rational individual you should have been, you wouldn’t have let this boy in your bed in the first damn place.

But you did. And at first, you had sense. As much as you can have granted, you are fucking around with your daughter’s boyfriend.

Rule number one: Condoms always. If he's not wrapping, he's not tapping.

Rule number two: He can't linger afterward for too long. He needs to be gone before Amber is even thinking about coming home, and if he's planning to spend time with her then he's not supposed to be thinking about you.

Rule number three: No kissing.

"What?" He said to you, the exasperation on him audacious. "What do you mean no kissing? That's like, the best part?" He's crawling atop you as if he's the kind of boy that breaks rules and you have to be firm, place your hand on his chest and give him the spray bottle.

"No Mark," you shake your head and the boy wilts. "It's too personal. I don't need you falling in love with me or some nonsense like that." It's already too late for that, but he doesn't correct you. "We're already," he gesticulates, finger-in-hole, "You know? That seems plenty personal to me already, so what's a little kiss?" He says with that lilt he does when he's trying to convince you, his finger tucked under your chin to lift. "C'mon," he goads, lips puckered as he leans into you. "Just humor me?" You're not laughing as you place a finger over his lips and push him back. "Aww... not even a little one?" You scoff.

"There are other lips you could be kissing right now." He shrugs in concession. "You right." And between your thighs he goes.

He always was great at wearing you down though, he got into your bed after all.

Mark Grayson breaks your rules because as it turns out he’s not a very good boy at all. He weakens your defenses—warming you up to the idea, he lies—undressing you, starting from the bottom and going up.

He hides orgasms behind paywalls, if you really want to cum as bad as you mewl, then you'll give him a kiss right? It's like a reward, he persuades, for all his hard work. If he’s making you feel sooo good, show him how good, as if your crossed eyes and his fucked up back don't speak for themselves. You want to rationalize it's just "whatever" when you two are tongue kissing on the bed; considering you've already fucked him, which now makes sense in a way it never had before. Your reservations turned to hoops and hurdles, mere obstacles in your race to completion. It doesn't help that Mark comes pre-equipped with justifications as well, ever eager to whittle your boundaries away with those soft brown puppy-dog eyes.

He starts being messy with his entrances and exits. He can start the day in Amber's arms but still somehow in your bed at night, holding you still as the post-orgasm exhaustion sets in, eyelids and limbs leadened, skin tacky with sweat and... other things.

So eventually, it makes sense that you stick your hand up when he pulls out the dreaded condom, waving it away.

"Just put it in, Mark."

And what kind of man would he be if he didn't oblige?

(Assuming you don't have your tubes tied.)

Arguably letting that boy into your bed was the dumbest decision you've ever made in your life. The second was letting him hit it raw. In most cases birth control would have all your bases covered. But this is not one such instance.

You don't know he's a Viltrumite. Which probably needn't be disclosed if you two maintained a more appropriate relationship with the other--but I digress.

You guys haven't seen each other since you've last had sex, and that was about... four weeks ago. Your birth control has been effective with other partners, so you didn't anticipate any issues. Couldn't have, in your stubborn mind, because it was easier to evade the guilt by not thinking about it; however, it is much harder to brush off when you feel that telltale rise of bile in your throat some early morning, a dizzying nausea gripping your stomach and pulling your heart down into it.

Clearblue, Pregnate and Nautilus all come out positive and by the end of it you're sitting on the toilet, wiping hysterical tears from the corners of your eyes as you're frantically flipping through contacts, trying to call Mark. You hesitate. Should you even? He's too young to be a father and he's still dating your daughter. Maybe it's better if he just doesn't know.

If You Tell Him, but you're not keeping it:

He's appalled, ecstatic and terrified all at once. He's fully prepared to commit to supporting you (in whatever ways he can) too, which is what concerned you the most. He doesn't have the time to spare to care for a kid, and you weren't exactly looking to give Amber a sibling at any point. So, you do the reasonable, actionable thing, and terminate the pregnancy.

Mark is devastated in a way he never expected to be. So are you, in a way. You wonder what could have been, almost, then dash the thought.

You're doing the smart, actionable thing. You tell yourself that whenever you feel your stomach turn, the hormones fogging up your reality, forcing tears to your eyes.

You probably stop seeing each other around that time. You realize sneaking around isn't worth the headache or heart attack. Mark is upset about it reflexively, but you drew your line in the sand, and he'd be one to respect that. If you don't tell him, you still break it off anyway.

You Get Pregnant and Keep It:

Maybe it's a bad case of baby fever that seduced you into your second bout with motherhood. Whatever the case may be, Amber is gonna have a baby sister soon! She's excited at first. Then grossed out. "...ewwwww, Mom..."

"Listen, you asked about my belly bump first. As far as I'm concerned, this TMI is all your fault."

Mark is just as frightened as he is aroused by the idea. He likes the way you look laid up and relaxed, how you're a little more helpless, crawling all over him for things. He thinks it's cute when you're needy.

You get really horny, too. It's really fun for you though, cause as bad of a boy that Mark Grayson is, he's at least a gentleman.

He'd visit more often, though his behavior/attitude towards the pregnancy changes depending on how he learns about it. Amber's attitude about little sibling changes depending on who the parent looks like.

What if you don't tell him, but the child looks like him completely? You had a hookup, and maybe it just sort of happened on accident. Or that's what you say, whether you're telling the truth or a lie is for you to know.

But you gave birth to a twin. From his cute brown eyes, to his nose, to the jet-black hair. They even have the same beauty marks. Amber keeps giving her odd looks in the crib. She seemed so familiar, but Amber could never quite place it.

But she's showing her off to whoever she can find, posts about it on her socials. Mark goes to see the baby in person as soon as he can and... he knows that's his kid.

It kind of makes him feel odd, like he's gone back in time and plopped himself in this crib. He feels like he should be panicking, sweating shaking, crying. But he just... holds her.

It's not going to be easy, but maybe not terrible? Of course, his relationship with Amber will end, your daughter is going up and it becomes an unignorable and uncanny resemblance.

Don't even mention when her powers start to come in.

She'd will put two and two together, eventually. Say goodbye to your daughter. Probably most of your friends?

But at least you have Mark, right? Whenever he's not saving the world, you guess.

But he really does love you <3 Though, I think it would be your mortality that saddens him. You're too soft, too sweet for his life. He'd just die if anyone got their hands on you.

Overprotective as shit as a partner, though. He's a sweet little golden retriever up until he sees someone eyeing you up and then he's just in go mode dude. Anybody who steps to him is getting thrown over the bar.

But,,, no Amber. Your daughter hates you. Forever. Would probably keep in contact with her sister, and eventually she's gonna know the truth of her birth. Who knows if she'll want to talk to you after?

But you made your bed, and Mark chose to lie in it.

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

Old men like to tell Mark what to do, in some timelines he listened, in some he didn't. Either way, someone always gets hurt.

[Invincible Variants X Reader]

I don't believe that man's ever been to medical school.

[Part one]  [Ao3] [19]

20 *  Gutted [7.2k]

"So if you know someone who works for the FBI,

You should stab them in their sleep,

With a kitchen knife!"

Quran Quran - Go Hang

        Gray hit the ground. He tumbled along the floor failing to stop himself, his pure white suit now dusty as he dug his hands into the floor to stop the momentum. He scowled, scrambled to get onto his feet, but a boot kicked him back down, pinning him by the middle. Harsh light haloed his attacker's head. He made out slivers of a scowl as the man leaned forward, foul breath wafting over his face. 

        "Sloppy work there, boy." Weight pressed harder into his gut, pushing the flat of his back hard into the ground. "Gotta lotta work cut out for me if I don't end up killin' ya right now."

        Gray openly sneered as he clawed at Conquest's ankle. He hadn't learned to steel his expressions yet. Conquest crookedly grinned, pressing his boot down still harder.

        "You look like you wanna kill me. Better get to it." But Gray couldn't get up. Squirming under his foot like a stuck turtle. 

        "Nolan, he's gonna kill him," Debbie whispered into her hands, tears on her lids. Nolan had told her she wouldn't want to see this, but she insisted that she wanted to better understand Viltrum culture. To see what kind of training their son would go through if he passed the test. 

        "He'll be fine." Nolan said, not quite believing it himself. The human-infected parental instincts in him roared to break Conquest over his knee, but he stayed put. It was hard enough to get the other Viltrumites to take him seriously these days. Going that much further would ruin his standing under Thragg- who barely tolerated his wife's existence as is. Mark had to be strong for all of them.

            Mark's boots squeaked over the pristine tile. Conquest watched him the way a cat watches a mouse, boot pressing deeper into his soft tweenage belly. Harder than he had the last kid, but Mark didn't cry or yell, only grit his teeth. Despite all Nolan's training and the little missions he'd gone on in the years he developed his powers, he was still just a bug to Conquest. 

        Debbie opened her mouth to scream, unable to take this anymore. 

        Conquest leaned forward, elbow over knee, coming in so close Mark could see all his crooked yellowing teeth.

        "You still with me, boy?" A fist came up to knock those teeth out. Conquest caught it easily. "Huh. An' some fight left in ya too?" He leaned back, lifting his foot and Mark up by the arm all at once. "Not bad." He let go of Mark's hand and he dropped down onto both feet, tempted to hunch forward with his pulsing ribs but he stayed ramrod straight. Conquest liked that he ignored the pain, refused to listen to his body. Plus, he'd passed the test- not dying or passing out under Conquest's boot. Most of his trainees weren't so lucky. He wasn't going easy either. After the last kid he killed fifty years ago, Thragg let him have it and he'd planned to let the next one pass regardless of their actual strength. But that fire in Mark's eyes was so bright he wanted to put it out. Yet the little fucker persisted. Still standing by his side despite his obvious bloodlust and didn't run to his mommy. 

        "Got some potential, boy. Let's find out what we can do with that."

        ***

        One, two, one, two. 

        Fighting was a rhythm, one to which he was attuned. Conquest made sure of that, the ruthless bastard. His solo conquering career had just begun to take off when he met Angstrom Levy. His training with Conquest had started to slow as they both were tied up with missions across the galaxy. Still, he checked in when he could. Kept his skills sharp and continued to push, but it was never enough to beat Conquest. Always just out of reach. He said Gray wasn't bad 'for a guy ten-thousand years younger than him'. 

        He should've been expecting an ambush. Shouldn't have let himself be so lax, so open to attack, but he had been distracted by you and Mohawk. His skills had also dulled in the desert with nothing to sharpen them on. He blunted Scars blows, but not as fast or efficient as he'd like. Moved out of the way of kick after kick and was surprised Scars was fast enough to keep up. Him being alive was a feat, but not one Gray would allow to go on any longer. 

        Gray knew he'd gone properly rusty when a punch drilled into his spine from behind. He was launched forward with surprising force, stopping himself before he barreled into the wall. He turned in time to see two animals with his face lunging for him. He moved out of the way- but not fast enough. Lensless caught him by the ankle, was ready to slam him to the ground. 

        "Let go of him!"

        Lensless went so rigid he almost fell out of the air. Hand flying open like a reverse bear trap. The command was done, the control over. But instead of continuing the fight, Lensless whipped his head around, ignoring the man about to punch his lights out. In the moments before Gray's fist kissed his chin- he saw you. Standing in the warm light, looking just like the mirages he'd seen so many times. Except you weren't wobbly at the edges. Your voice wasn't an echo in his mind. You were very, very real.

        He stared at you wide eyed even as he was violently shot back. Gray turned to deal with Scars as he pounced. Lensless forgot the fight entirely as he smashed through the cave walls. 

        Scars, on the other hand, didn't. He had heard you, seen you and wanted you like a predator wanted raw meat, but he couldn't have a taste without your little friends getting in the way. Your presence strengthened his cause, his anger.

        Where was Mohawk in all this? Unmoved, unharmed. He'd talked a big game about killing the two, but that was when they weren't around. He wasn't afraid for himself, but for you. He knew he could get too self-involved in battles. Knew it'd leave you open for attack, knew he'd do anything to save you and wind up getting himself fucked. He did the smart thing- grabbing you and flying out of the cave like a coward. He'd come back and kill them, but wouldn't fight with you here. Not if he could help it. Gray could stand his ground, at least he hoped so.

        You had other plans, realizing what he was doing as you shot into the wastes. Panic, anger, and fear tight in your chest, more blinding than the desert sun, you wanted to kill them. 

        "Go back!" Power threaded through his brain, zapped all the right neurons to make him listen. Mohawk tried to fight it, to tell his brain that go back meant go back to camp but it'd already processed and his body reacted, he unwillingly shot back into the cave. At the same time Lensless was zipping after you both. Grinning at his luck, at your silly human altruism as he grabbed for you.

        Mohawk wasn't fast enough, muscles molasses slowed by your lingering control- he should've never let you train on him. Should've let you stay weak. Lensless had you and he didn't. 

        Gray had just finished kicking Scars into the floor when he heard your shriek. He turned to find you thrashing in Lensless's arms, his hand over your mouth, while you scratched viciously at him. Lensless was laughing as he easily dodged Mohawk's increasingly desperate attacks. Too desperate. If any one of them connected, he'd hurt you- kill you with the aftershocks at the very least. Gray left Scars, rushed toward you, intending the do something, though he didn't know what- he wasn't used to panicking in battle- wasn't used to preserving life instead of taking it. 

        Mohawk's fist reeled back, aimed straight for Lensless's head, intending to smash it to dust. Lensless grinned impishly, watching the desperation in Mohawk's eyes as his fist came closer, ears perked at the crack of air behind him. He'd always been faster than the others, not stronger. He'd been faster than Dad. That was how he beat him after all. Pulled a move a little like this-

        He moved away at the last second, just as Mohawk's fist was about to connect with his nose. Knuckles flew through empty air a nano second before it was filled with Gray's incoming body. The protest on his lips dying when the blue-black glove pierced his belly all the way through, just above the hip.

        Guts clung around Mohawk's knuckles. Gray's mouth opened, closed, opened, closed. Conquest didn't go easy on him, he'd been hurt before but never like this. He was perpetually in the med bay as a teenager but he'd always been careful, strong. He could fight through pain, with blood pouring out of him. Had to tell himself this was no different. His eyes met his variant's, panic reflected back at him before he heard you. Your panicked heartbeat going into overdrive, a muffled cry accompanying it. His eyes moved to find you struggling in Lensless's arms. He watched as you tried to claw blindly at his eye, him grabbing your wrists in one hand and yanking them down, his smile made Gray bristle. All self-preservation flew out the window.

        Gray yanked Mohawk's fist out his belly with a command, "Go!"

        He felt something slap his thighs, ignoring how the cool cave air on his organs caused a radiating pricking pain. He shot up, Mohawk following, the both of them reaching for you. Gray was somehow faster, fueled by adrenaline, uncaring as he unspooled, as the pain spread through his body.

        But he wasn't faster than Scars who shot out of the him-shaped hole in the floor, yanking Gray by the trailing pink of his insides. Scars reveled in the sound he made, an unconscious whimper that made him grin. He wanted more. He pulled, spinning Gray round and round, as both of them gripped at his guts in a tug of war. Gray fought to keep them in his body, fingers slipping in the viscera. He was losing, Scars yanking like the guts were a chew toy. Pink slipped inch by inch out of Gray's unwilling hands before Scars flung him away. This time, he didn't catch himself before ramming into the wall, rock crumbling down around him.

        Mohawk was so intent on grabbing you, he didn't notice Lensless's knee coming for his chin. Crack! Blood filled his mouth, teeth coming down around the tip of his tongue. Mohawk steadied himself, snarling at Lensless, eyes set on you while yours were set on Scars- rising up behind Mohawk. You screamed into Lensless's palm, trying to warn him.

        He growled, blood misting out his mouth, "That all you g-"

        Crack!

        One fist slammed to each of his ears. Blowing out his equilibrium, sending him hurdling to the ground, half-conscious. Scars didn't let him land. He snapped down, grabbed Mohawk by the hair and zipped out of the cave into the sky where he threw Mohawk as hard as he could into the cold depths of space. He was back before your next bout of muffled screaming started. Stopping in front of you and Lensless, hovering in the wreckage of the cave. The roof groaned a warning of imminent collapse.

        You were alone with them once again. Mohawk lost in space. Gray gutted in the wall. 

        Scars reached out, hands slick with Gray's blood. "Let me touch her."

        He looked worse than shit. Beard spiky with grease, speckled through with muck. Hair long and peaking out the top of his torn mask. Cheeks sunk to the bone. Skin red and peeling off in slips, exposing new, already burnt skin beneath. Everything about him was slighter, shakier, less there- especially the glassy eye exposed under the busted lens. You supposed that's what raw cannibalism did to a guy. 

        You kicked at his legs as Lensless floated you both closer, hand still over your mouth the other holding your arms down. A toy to share. 

        Scars hands shook as he brought them closer to your body. Going tentatively to your arms, first poking, then squeezing so hard your flesh pressed to bone.

     "She's really there, right?" Scar's touch explored up your arms, your shoulders, holding your neck to feel the thrum of your pulse under his thumb. 

        "I mean, unless we're both having the same full body tactile hallucination, yeah." Lensless's nose was pressed to the back of your skull. Sniffing. Your teeth ground on the small bit of flesh you caught from his palm. He hummed at the feeling. "I've been thinking about that time you bit me a whole lot lately. It was so hot and then we had so much fun after that, remember?" How could you forget them beating up Mark, dropping you and making you use your powers for their own personal entertainment? "Why'd you have to leave, huh? Why'd you have to go and make me all sad?" You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Wouldn't if you could, because if you could talk you'd be telling him and the boner pressing into your back to go die. Lensless went on. "Did you leave cuz you were scared? It's okay if you were scared of me, I don't mind." 

        Scars hands had been all over you while Lensless babbled, he wasn’t listening to anything but your frantic breathing and pounding heart, "I need to hold her."

        Lensless didn't budge. "Finders keepers." 

        Their alliance had been straining these last few weeks. Especially after Scars assumed Lensless took Phantom. Now it was starting to rip at the seams with you back in play.

        "Please." Spat like a slur.

        Lensless tilted his head, unsure if he heard that. "Did you just-"

        "I won't say it again." Scars was afraid he’d kill you. Him ripping you out of Lensless's iron grip in pieces, shredded to ribbons in his fingers. The hand off needed to be willing. 

        "Fine." Lensless tutted, "Just cuz it's weird you asked nicely." The alliance held firm-ish.

         The switch off of their hands gagging your mouth was so quick, you couldn't get a word out. Scars crushed you to his chest, pressing your face to his ribs, your arms pinned uselessly between your bodies. He ignored your struggles, sniffing in your scent, feeling your flesh under his fingers, listening to your bunny-hopping heart.

        "You're real." He said into your scalp. "You're real."

        He'd seen so many mirages of you in these last weeks. Saw the shape of you in the shadows of camp. Saw you in Phantom's blood splatter. Remembered your own pool of blood as you bled out under him, his gloves getting slipperier and slipperier as he tried to stop the flow. He thought you were a mirage when he tackled Gray- hadn't considered you were real until he heard your voice. Saw Lensless stop. 

         "You're real." He sighed into your neck. His nose slipped in your sweat slicked neck, smelling the salt and the hot metallic blood pumping just beneath the surface.

        His hold loosened and your lungs sang in relief. Your hands flexed against his chest, pushed at him. Your brain caught up to your actions, your hands were free, you could make them do something. If he just faced you towards Lensless this could work you could- 

        Teeth sank into your shoulder, slipping past fat and muscle faster than your brain could register the pain. Incisors ground against your clavicle. Your pain receptors finally began to scream. You could feel his tongue moving along the wound, soaking up the blood as it bubbled out. Your screams vibrated the flesh, the bone against his teeth. He didn't mind. Didn't mind one bit, just tightened his hold on your mouth. 

        "Hey." Lensless whined. "I found her first." He floated closer, reached out but was viciously growled at by Scars, still buried in your shoulder. "Jeez, okay, I'll wait."

        He'd missed you very much but didn't mind watching awhile. He circled around Scars back just to get a better look at your face contorted in pain. 

        Your vision blurred with tears as Scars ground his jaw against your flesh, opening the wound wider. Needing more fresh, hot blood. Needing it from you, the only thing that could satisfy the never-ending gnawing hunger you’d left him with. You caught Lensless floating around into view and you tried to focus on him, tried to think of anything but the pain.

        Lensless looked no better than Scars. Suit so shredded he was practically in daisy dukes, boots, and a string. Hair sprouted unevenly from his jaw. Near full-body sunburn pulsing with pus-filled blisters where he’d picked at them. Worst of all to you- his eye wound wasn't infected. The skin was discolored and warped around the socket, but it'd healed. His eyelid had regrown to sag sadly over nothing. His other eye was bright and alert unlike the glassiness you saw in Scars. He didn't look haunted like his counterpart.

        This was a good thing in your mind, because he just might edge out over Scars in terms of strength. Your hands came up shakey from the adrenaline and pain, but slow as not to set off the animal snarling into your bloody neck. Sucking on you like a vampire.

        Lensless watched, entranced, dick-standing happy that you were looking at him and not Scars as you cried. You pointed at Scars with one hand while the other traced your outstretched thumb over the side of your neck not occupied by a fucking freak.

        Control clicked into place.        

        Lensless yanked Scars back by the cape. Tearing his teeth from you and ripping you from his grip, sending you careening to the sand feet below with a piece missing, trapped behind the bloody red bars of Scars' teeth. You watched as Lensless spun him around by the cape. You hit the soft sand and slid down the artificial dune as Scars was flung into the wall.

        You wasted no time watching them brawl. You shot up, hand on your pulsing shoulder and ran for the white slip of uniform sticking out of the rubble. Ignoring Scars angry shouts as you scrambled up the little incline that used to house your hamster hut, blown away in the fight, upside down at the other end of the cave. Still, the floor that housed the fire pit where your and Mark's increasingly infrequent fires was stained black with ash. 

        But you couldn't reminisce now. You threw yourself down, throwing what rocks you could off, "Gray! Hey! Gray!?" While keeping Lensless tight in your mental grip, feeling him thrash but you were stronger than him. Not starved or deeply crazy, practicing your skills on stronger versions of him. 

        You moved the last rock you could off him, revealing the full picture. Gray covered in dust, making a soupy brown mixture with his blood that surrounded him like a lake. Guts tangled and twisted outside his chest, pierced by small rocks. Still he had the energy to smile when he saw you. 

        "Oh, thank God you're alive." The relief in your tone was a shot of morphine he desperately needed. Your hands scrambled blindly at his side, “Where's the agent fourteen?"

        His hand unpinned itself beneath rock and slipped a vial from the hip you'd yet to search. He opened his mouth but you said, "Shut up, don't talk," as you grabbed the vial, pouring the whole thing into your hands. You didn't bother looking back. You were going to fix things but... "God- What the fuck am I supposed to do here?" Would touching his guts make it worse? Would he heal with rocks inside him? What the fuck were you doing? You should've hid or screamed for help instead of wasting your fucking time on someone who clearly couldn't fight. But something inside you, something you thought Machine Head had beat out of you, wouldn't let you do that.

        "I've never been gutted before." Gray says airily. "I'm not entirely sure."

        His eyes were getting glassy. He was going to pass out on you. Fall asleep. Stay asleep.

        "Don't you know first aid?" Something crumbled behind you. Lensless was thrashing harder in your grip now. 

        "I do." He blinks slow, stupid, fading. "I think... Conquest told me a time he'd been before, he..." His eyes stay shut a second too long.

        You panicked, “Tell me!"

        "He said he pushed them back in. He was fine in a few... in a..." He stopped abruptly, eyes opening as the pain flared. He blinked, eyes watering as he watched you shove his guts back into his belly, rocks and all. Agent fourteen smeared everywhere you could. 

        "You're gonna be fine." Whenever you breathed, you could taste the metal in the air. "I've got you. You're fine."

        "I don't think he is," Lensless said. You'd always been bad at controlling two Marks at once.

        You whipped around. They were nearly on top of you, casting long shadows over you and Gray. No. No. No. "Kill your-"

        A bloody hand clamped over your mouth. "None of that." Scars said, looking worse than the last time you saw him, blood dripping down his dark hair, but still alive. 

        "You're getting better at that." Lensless lisped through his freshly split lip. Despite that and the new bruises blooming on his chest, he was still hard as a starved man could be.

        You didn't care. Just wanted them dead. Your hands came up, this time pointing Scars attention to Lensless. Your thumb came to your throat but was stopped by Lensless who captured your wrists, holding them together above your head.

        "Almost forgot you could do that." He was breathless, redder in the face than before, remembering what you did to Isotope and your boss. Desperate for you to use your powers again but knowing if he let you and Scars caught him- he'd be dead. 

        Scars was slower to the draw. Taking a moment to realize, "That’s how you got me earlier, huh?" He smiled, scar stretching, exposing blood streaked gums. The piece of you he'd bitten off swallowed during the fight. Your shoulder pulsed at the sight. He leaned forward as you tried to move away, nuzzling his nose into yours. "I missed you, you nasty bitch."

        Gray shifted, immediately regretting it as the pain doubled. Guts slipping out of the hasty pile you'd made his belly. He hissed, using his skirt to cover the hole and catch the wormy lengths of slippery intestine. 

        Lensless moved your hands down, "Hold these real quick." Scars took them without looking. "Come'ere, pretty boy." 

        You thrashed in Scars grip, trying to go limp and scurry out of his grasp but it was useless. Gray watched you struggle, a fly stuck in a glue trap. You tried talking around his hand, getting it out of your mouth to no avail. The more you twisted your arms to get your hands, the harder he held your wrists together. 

        Your ears strained to hear what was happening behind you. Rocks shifting as Lensless grew closer, as Gray tried to right himself and prepare to fight only for his body to fail him, to shakily sit his ass back down. He should've been better prepared. Should've gone on more missions, should've trained for this but he just wasn't good enough. 

        He only had one card left to play as Lensless raised his heel. "Kill me." He said, "Save the others the choice of who to eat next."

        That gave Lensless pause. "Wait. It's not just you and that other guy?" 

        Scars lifted his face away from yours, "How many of the others are left?"

        "Enough that I won't last a month," Gray said. 

        Scars stiffened. "And where are they now?"

        "Close enough. They know we're here."

        On one hand, they were batshit insane. On the other, they were only two people. They craved bloodshed and they'd have it, but not now, not when they just got you back. The thought passed through them almost telepathically. They had to leave, now.

        Lensless lunged. Gray stiffened, holding his hands out to defend himself but he didn't need to. Lensless only tore off his skirt, let his guts flop down.

        "Shit." Lensless hissed as he rushed over to you, tearing the cloth into two. "Shit, do'ya think they heard any'a that?" He tied your hands together at the wrist. Tight enough, you could feel your fingers prickling from the lack of blood flow.

        "Could've." Scars grabbed the other cloth while your hands were secured. Faster than you could bark, the bloodied fabric was shoved into and over your mouth. Muzzling you the same way Mark had in this very cave. 

        You were hauled over Scars shoulder like a flour sack. He hovered up while Lensless lingered, thinking of the fastest but still painful way to kill Gray.

        "Leave him." Scars said as a piece of wall fell from the ceiling, shattering feet away. "He'll die anyway."

        You caught Gray's eye as Scars started towards the exit. You reached for him with useless hands. He smiled. He had been too weak for you this time around. 

        "Lame." Lensless sighed but took off, keeping up with Scars as they blasted out of the cave.

        You watched the hole get smaller and smaller, watched the sand shifting above ground as the cavern walls started to give. Tied wrists beat at Scars back as his cape billowed behind him. Lensless dragged behind purposefully to watch your face as the ground shuddered. Dust clouds kicked up as you and Mark's so-called home fully caved in. The muffled scream you let out was music to his ears. 

        The sunken divot in the ground was soon obscured by sand. You kept hoping Gray would shoot up from the cloud but he never did. Kept hoping Mohawk would fly down from space, but he never did. Kept hoping someone would rush over after hearing the collapse but you never saw, too far away now to see anything but the yellow-tinged atmosphere. 

        Once they were high above the wastes, they moved fast, too fast. You could feel your skin burning off in layers in the hot wind. Breathing was near impossible, air rushed by so fast your body couldn't inhale. Tears ran down your face and you were sure if it was just from the speed. 

        Lensless liked the look. Came up real close behind Scars to caress your cheek. Through the panic, you knew you had to be smart. You pressed your burning cheek to his bloodied palm. Nuzzled into it, batted your wet lashes, jerked up your hands and hit at your gag as sign you couldn't breathe, that you wanted to talk to him- say something pants-creamingly sweet.

        His face melted with your affections. He cooed, "Awww, you poor baby. Those are so tight, aren't they?" 

        You nodded. Scars slowed a fraction to hear over the wind in his ears.

        Lensless's fingers brushed against the cloth. You leaned into the touch, waiting for Gray's skirt to fall away. Lensless smiled softly. "I'm not stupid, sweetpea. I know you'll try to kill me, and I want you to try, but not right now, okay? We're a little busy, but I love the enthusiasm."

        You batted at him with tied wrists, tried to force his gentle hand away. You didn't want him to touch you if he wasn't untying you. He got the message but didn't stop. Thumb rubbing circles on your cheek as Scars slowed even more.

        "Someone's alone down there," Scars said. 

        You looked down thinking it a mirage of a madman, but sure enough, miles below was a single moving dot. A person flying low in the atmosphere. Maybe Maskless had finally had enough. He hated you but still, you screamed into the gag. Hoping he'd heard. Hoping he'd help or go get help or do anything to stop this bullshit. 

        Scars smiled hearing you scream. Misinterpreting, "That one of your little boyfriends, huh?" He paused for a beat as if you could answer in anything but screams and thrashes. "I know you've been fuckin' around. Can fuckin' feel it. How many times you let him cum in you?" 

        Zero. You tried screaming into the rag as you shook your head. Zero. You'd say it even if you had.

        Lensless understood but didn't feel like translating. "I think she said eight."

        Scars clicked his tongue. "You slut." 

        He said it so casually as he grabbed you by the ankle, whipping you off his shoulder. Holding you out at arms length, dangling over the dunes head-first. "Here's what's gonna happen. I'm going to drop you. Kill your boyfriend and break your fall with his mushy dead body." That did not sound plausible but Scars wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be making plausible plans. You shook your head. He nodded in response, grinning manically, "Then we're gonna go way past eight. You and me, yeah?"

        "And me!" Lensless added.

        "Sure, fuck, why not? She's open enough to fuck, what's one more? How's that sound, honey?"

        You tried swinging forward to grab his legs. Needing any leverage other the the grip on your ankle. Scars let you, swing, reach, swing, reach, getting within an inch of clasping his boot before he let you go. Flying down faster than you could fall, sending you backward in the violent burst of air. You watched as he reached the ground. Watched as you got closer to the ground, doomed to splatter in the sand.

        Except you never did. Lensless flew up next to you, caught you by the waist and pulled your body closer as he slowed your descent.

        "Don't worry." He adjusted you in his arms like you were a princess and he was your knight in shining armor. "I've got you." You were very, very unsure of that. "Figured he'd got so carried away murdering that guy he'd forget to catch you and that'd be no fun at all."

        You tried again with the battling eyelashes and chest nuzzling but it only amused him. He teasingly touched along the restraints, only to never take them off. Saying, "They'll come off once you relax a little."

        Scars was fighting Maskless below you, Lensless chose then to speed up. Pressing you to his side with one arm, holding his fist out with the other.

        "Wanna blast through this guy together, babe?" You screamed and shook your head. "That's a yes, right?" He sped up and you couldn't breathe.

        The man was no longer a dot but an afterimage as he fended off Scars attacks. Suit a blue yellow blur, untorn by petty fights. Despite the wind in your eyes you registered that classic, stupid Invincible mask instead of the resting bitch face you'd come to associate with Maskless. You'd also never taken Maskless as a passive fighter, but you watched as he blocked sloppy attacks instead of going in for the kill. He didn't see you to notice you and Lensless, close enough now to hear Scars taunting. 

        You tensed, pressed yourself into Lensless to his delight, ready for bloody impact. 

        Sand exploded around you. Blinding you as Lensless put on the breaks and turned. His prey was faster than he had expected. "Hey, you're not too bad, dude." He huffed as the sand started to settle. Scars now floated above, watching you. Lensless blinked, narrowing his one eye. "Do you remember this guy?" 

        "Don't care!" Scars shouted as he rushed forward again. All he needed was his next meal after he had you. They probably should've taken Gray, but he didn't mind finding fresher meat. He definitely didn't mind killing a man he assumed fucked you. He thought Gray was too repressed, too pussy.

        "Okay rude." Lensless moved for the silhouette as well, you still pressed to his side. "Be ready for real this time (Y/n). Prommy I won't miss."

        The man dodged Scars just barely, shouting, "What- Hey- Stop!"

        "Not until," Scars spun and lunged again, "you're dead!"

        He missed and Lensless used the opportunity to fly into the man, jamming his fist into his stomach. Finding more resistance than he was expecting. He pouted as you all flew forward, "How come you're not dead yet?"

        The man grabbed Lensless by the wrist, slowing you down, digging his feet into the sand.

        He scowled, lenses flaring under the sun, "Because I'm-"

        You got a good look at him then, in the moment of near stillness. Screaming muffled into the gag- Mark!?

        He was going to punch Lensless's lights out but then he heard you. Saw you ragged and tied up and terrified despite the fact you'd been assumed dead for months.

        Mark's mouth twisted into the word, "(Y/n)?" Before a fist slammed into his chin.

        ***

        Some time ago.

        Once polished shoes kicked rubble down the hallway. Bodies and pieces of the ceiling everywhere. The mess didn't matter now. All his available heroes and staff were off on the planet wide rescue mission. Pulling families out from wreckage, putting out fires, tagging bodies, providing medical aid to the barely living. And where was their premier planet defender? 

        Cecil grunted as he pushed the sliding door open. The motion detectors were down as well as most of the lights. The hospital room was lit only by the machines keeping Eve Wilkins alive. Mark didn't move as Cecil came inside. He said, "I'm not-"

        "Save it." Cecil snapped, "It's over." 

        That made Mark turn, actually consider anything he was saying. "What?" Cecil couldn't help but scowl. 

        "Angstrom Levy's goons are gone. All of 'em zapped to another dimension, team's guessing. (Y/n)'s gone." Cecil waited for a reaction but got none. "Levy's on the move, we're trying to track him down but he was never really the threat. Planet's saved, no thanks to you."

        Mark stiffened. "You didn't need me then."

        Cecil's eye twitched. "Whole planet needed you, but you decided to stay here while your ex-girlfriend did the job for you. Impressive what someone like her can do with no official training. Makes me wonder how much better things would've gone if you stepped in."

        Mark's face twisted. So soft with youth and a lack of scars that further proved his inexperience. Cecil could almost relate to his rash morality, almost- but Cecil was never this much of a fuck up. "I needed to make sure Eve was safe."

        Cecil rose a brow, "And not your mother?" 

        "Oliver called me. He said she's fine."

        "You really gonna take a kid's word for it?" It was shitty, but so was Mark. Mark didn't dignify that with a response. Cecil went on, "You pissed off Levy in the first place. When we find him, you're dealing with him. We're out of superpowered exes to throw at your problems."

        "I know." Mark watched Eve's heart monitor. Steady, good. She was all that mattered. Not you. Not the gnawing guilt that Cecil was insisting he feel. 

        Mark's response wasn't good enough. Nothing he could do was good enough to un-piss Cecil off. "I know we're not working together these days, kid, but you need to get your priorities in check."

        Mark's fingers gripped the side of Eve's hospital bed, bending the metal. "I do have my priorities in check."

        "Then why did you let a low level criminal- practically a civilian- save the day for you? You're the strongest man on the planet- you need to start acting like it." 

         "Just tell me when you find Angstrom."

        "Jesus, Mark, do you really not give a shit?" Cecil didn't particularly care either, but he was supposed to not care. Mark was. The more he showed this uncaring, alien, half of himself, the more uneasy he made Cecil feel. 

        "No." Mark said. "I don't even know her anymore. I'm glad she stopped them but none of that was my problem."

        Cecil narrowed his eyes. "Seemed like everything was your problem until Eve got hurt."

        The bedside metal groaned as Mark's grip tightened. "(Y/n) was a bad guy. Eve's not."

        "She was your girlfriend, Mark." Eve said, voice like sandpaper. He'd told her about you not long after they became friends. Hours long talks while him and Amber were still dating. The reality of how far you'd gone to go to college with him had fucked him up. Fucked him up more when he chose to drop out of college. He wondered what you'd do then to follow along. Eve always got annoyingly mad on your behalf, said you'd probably have stayed in school, that you weren't that obsessed with him, just misguided and scared to lose him. He stopped talking about you after that. Tried to stop thinking about you, especially since he heard through the grapevine that you still worked with Machine Head. He told himself it wasn't his fault. He told himself if he tried to set you on the right path you'd still make bad decisions. He told himself he'd regret intervening because somehow he always fucked everything up. 

        "Eve!" Mark's hands were on her face, caressing her soft cheeks. "You're a-"

        Eve didn't smile back at him. "Would you ever let that happen to me?"

        "No, no, Eve. No I'd-"

        "Help me, right?" She'd thought about finding you before. Flashing money into existence and shoving it into your hands. Hooking you up with good people to get you away from Machine Head. Except she'd never got to meet you. Had no idea what you looked like and Mark wouldn't tell. Wiped all the photos of you from his phone. William told her a few times but his description of 'yay high, hair that looks like you know, and a face like uhh I dunno, it's a face?' wasn't very helpful.

        "Well, yeah but-"

        "There's no 'but' Mark. She's a person." At Cecil's frown, she corrected, "Was a person."

        Eve had Mark on the proverbial ladder, Cecil came in hot with the proverbial chair. "Definitely was. None of those guys were good news, and Mark here refused to leave your side ever since you got hurt."

        Eve's face went red as her hair. "What!?" She shot up too quick, wincing.

        Mark pushed her coaxingly back down into the bed. "Don't hurt yourself."

        "You didn't help!? How long have I even been out?" When Mark didn't answer immediately, she looked to Cecil.

        "I had to stay here and protect you." Mark said, "You heard that one. He hated you! He's me, he'd know where to find you! I didn't know if they'd come and kill you to get to me!"

        A pink wall of air pushed his hands off her. "I can't believe you." She hissed.

        "Eve." He plead. 

        "If you were hurt and the world needed me, where would you want me to be?"

        "I-" Mark didn't know. Didn't have the brain power for a relationship trolley problem when life was just one shitty thing after another. "Can we not do this right now?"

        "Oh-ho-ho," she was laughing, that was a bad thing, "We are. How many people died because you stayed here, Mark?"

        "I don't know." It was hard to keep the whine out of his voice. He'd spent days at her bedside waiting tensely for her to wake up only for it to dissolve into a fight. 

        "Six thousand deaths confirmed in D.C alone. The count worldwide is expected to be in the hundreds of thousands by the end of the day." Cecil said.

        Mark spun, spit flying off his teeth, "Do you really need to be here right now!?"

        Cecil was unfazed by his anger. Had faced worse from Mark before. Felt his hand around his throat more times than he cared to count. "I do," Cecil said evenly, "because you took out your earpiece and someone's got to tell you we've got a pin on Angstrom Levy."

        Mark left as soon as he heard the location, leaving Cecil with an irate Eve. He was going to make things right this time.   

        ***

        Angstrom Levy survived again. Dragged himself to the Technician's feet only for them to nearly turn their backs and leave him to die. He worked, helped them build their personal utopia so they'd let him live. Paid off his debts until he could finally go home and get his revenge. It took time. Planning. Mark was off planet doing God knows what. So he watched. Waited. Kept an eye on his sweetheart. Bided his time until the fool returned to Earth like he always did. When he did, Angstrom was ready with a portal and a chain of bombs around Eve's neck. 

        There was nothing more satisfying than sending him away- desperately reaching out for Eve. Missing. Sending him to that same desert he nearly killed Angstrom in. Where Angstrom assumed your sun-bleached bones would taunt him until he succumbed to madness.

[joontroverted]

eavesdropper

toji x reader (inspired by this!)

genre : fluff, domestic cuteness

the two of you are settled in bed. you're deeply engrossed in the manhua you've been reading, while toji is sitting by you on his phone, scrolling through it and jabbing it with his pointer finger occasionally.

he calls your name.

"hmm?" you respond, still absorbed in the new chapter.

"baby," he repeats, causing you to glance up at him for a moment. he's wearing his glasses for once and he's holding his phone at arm's length from him. you go back to your manhua, knowing that it is probably going to be about some ridiculous whatsapp message someone forwarded, or some new internet trend he can't understand.

"yes, toj?"

"it's megumi's special day tomorrow. are we doing anything?"

this causes you to actually look up and balk at him. "fushiguro toji. our son's birthday is in winter. we're in the middle of summer right now," you say sternly.

"i know when our son's birthday is," he grumbles, turning to look at you, his green eyes narrowed, annoyed that you could think that he doesn't.

"i mean gay people pride month. it says here it starts tomorrow, and i thought you of all people would know about?" he sneers.

you almost choke on your own saliva at that. "it's... yeah, it is tomorrow, but i don't think we need to do anything for him!"

toji raises his eyebrows at that. "is it because you think he is not gay or is it because you think that being gay is nothing worth celebrating?"

you gasp. "old man, you will not make me sound bigoted in my own bed, in my own house! i don't think we should do anything pride related because megumi has never brought up his sexuality! the boy doesn't even like when we sing him happy birthday, you think he's going to want to wake up to us decorating the house with rainbow streamers?"

"well, what if he hasn't come out to us because we've never done anything for him on gay people pride month- "

"i just want to let you know that it's not gay people pride month, it's just pride month, genius."

"what if he's not proud?" ponders toji, finally dropping his phone and folding his arms together. the action makes his tits bounce and bunch up together, and before you know it, you're reaching for them and squeezing.

"you should take your shirt off, you know, for... ventilation."

"uh huh," he says dryly, and in one swift motion, he has both your wrists captured in one big hand of his. "will you focus now?"

"yes sir," you sigh.

"good girl. now, do you think him and the itadori kid have something going on?"

you side eye him at that. "someone's been nosey."

toji is a contractual worker, and on the days that he doesn't work, he either goes outside by the lake with his beer or sits inside on the couch with his beer. and eavesdrops on your kids, apparently.

"oh toj. you didn't grow up with a best friend, so i'm sure you're just confused. sure, megumi hangs out with him all the time... "

"and goes over to his place for sleepovers," he adds, leaning in.

"and watches his favourite movies just for him... " you suggest.

"and plans weekend activities with him," he says, with a sly look.

"and spent the day locked in his room when yuuji had to cancel because of basketball practice... " you mutter, casting your mind back to all these incidents. "oh my god."

toji's lips are pulled into a full smirk now.

"megumi is... definitely not straight. oh my god! how did i not notice?" you exclaim, sitting up straight. "it is so his month tomorrow!"

"that's what i've been saying, darling! the kid deserves a little treat, at least!"

you're still flabbergasted. you didn't think he was straight. you didn't think he wasn't straight. you just didn't think about it. you had always assumed that megumi would bring his partner home one day, but what if that's what he's been doing all along?

"a little treat? he's getting all his favourite food tomorrow!"

toji laughs and lets go of your wrists finally, cupping your hands in his and bringing them up to his chest and squeezing. the plush and bouncy muscles truly soothe your mind.

"there there," he says, as you sink into his embrace, his warm chest still trapped under his tank, "you've been busy."

"i am his mother," you grumble, kneading at his tits. you lay your head on his shoulder, his spiky black hair tickling your nose. he smells like his eucalyptus soup. you take a long, deep sniff of it, and get up.

you clamber out of bed, stuffing your feet into your slippers as the warmth of the bed and your husband slowly leave you.

"where ya goin, honey?"

"marinating the meat. then i'm cutting some vegetables so i don't waste time with prep tomorrow. and you. get up. i don't care if you cut the vegetables uneven, you're still- oh!"

toji has gotten up and picked you up bridal style. he's in his wifebeater, old old boxer shorts, both of which he usually shucks off before sleeping. his glasses sit wonkily on the bridge of his nose.

"at your service, mama," he says in a low voice, curling you up and dropping a kiss on your neck.

something curls in your stomach at the gesture and his voice, and your toes curl. you just don't have the time for that now.

"good boy," you say, squishing his cheek and giving it a smack. what a life. your sweet, sexy husband feeding you crucial details on your son's life, all while being strong enough to lift you like it's no sweat. "to the kitchen we go!"

he playfully bounces you a bit as he takes you to the kitchen, your cheek smushed against his chest. "so, do you wanna hear about what happened in tsumiki's dance group? those girls are operating like seasoned politicians."

"toji, you shouldn't!" you laugh, smacking his chest. "yes. yes, actually, you absolutely have to."

[pxpecxdy]

HAPPY 200 FOLLOWERS BABE!!!! You deserve this and so so much more!!🥹🥹🥹

For your requests, ¹²⁹⁾ “you put me through so much, and still all i can think about is how i’d do it all again if you asked me to.”

With Robby please😩💕

Thank you so much babe!!! Ilysm!!! Sorry this took some time but I had to think about it! I hope you like it! Definitely not inspired by bits of our conversations

The past few days had been rough. Every time you stepped into the bathroom you saw yourself in the reflection but you no longer locked the way you remembered. It was hard to push those thoughts away. It was harder with Robby working every day and coming home exhausted each night.

Tonight was especially bad. Your baby boy slept through most of the day and night, which should have been a relief to most parents. However, you couldn't help but feel selfish in that moment. There was no one smiling, crying, or babbling keeping your attention, reminding you of the positive that was brought with your body changes.

When Robby got home, he was immediately confused with the state of your dress. Gone were the cute sexy nightgowns or his large tshirts with panties underneath. Instead he was greeted with you in what could only be described as the most modest pajamas possible. The only thing missing was a matching sleeping cap.

"What are you wearing?" He couldn't help but laugh as he pulled you in for a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you and squeezing tightly.

"Pajamas. Thought I'd wear something more age appropriate now, you don't want to see all that."

"See what? My beautiful wife?" He pulled you away from him to look you in the eyes. His hands held onto your shoulders. He noticed how you rolled your eyes at the word beautiful. He could see the insecurity taking weight in your face.

"Angel, I love you. I love everything about you. I know you don't feel the same about yourself after the baby" he paused for a moment to lean in and kiss you. "I loved you before and I love you with your body changes.

"I love how your hair has gotten curlier" Kiss. "Love your rounded face." Kiss. "Love your hips and belly" Kiss. "And I love these breasts." He said with his lips pressed against yours as his hands slid up to cup your chest.

"You put me through so much, and still all I can think about is how I'd do it all again if you asked me to, Michael." You smiled softly at him.

His eyebrows shot up. A grin spread across his face. "Do you want to try for another? We can try right now." You squealed as he picked you up with ease and carried you off to your shared bedroom

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Bedside Manners Author's Notes: next part will be angstier, promise! I feel there hasn't been enough angst as of recently Warnings: MDNI (FYI I do block ageless blogs), Angst, Depictions of hospitals

The room is tense. The 141 don’t speak as they fear that the slightest noise will shatter the thin ice they’re all on.

After your abrupt exit, Kate asked the team to explain themselves as she didn’t understand their logic. They supposedly like and respect you but you’re out here telling Kate that you feel like a nuisance. They say they want you to stay but you’re out here looking for a way out. If they don’t like you, fine… stupid in Kate’s opinion, but fine, that’s their choice but why the mixed messages? In all her years she’s worked with Price and his men, she’s never one questioned their actions, but now she wasn’t too sure.

“So who’s going to speak? John?” Price lowers his gaze.

“Ghost?” Simon shifts uncomfortably in his spot. 

“MacTavish?” Johnny grimaces. 

“I guess it has to be you Kyle.” Kate crosses her arms and looks at each soldier, pausing at Gaz. “Now tell me, what the hell is going on? You guys might not like them but they’re still mine at the end of the day so tell me, should I cut them loose and grant them the transfer?” 

It’s like lightening strikes the room as soon as Kate uttered those words.

“Cap’n,” Ghost practically growls. All three men look at their captain, who deflates in bed, with baited breath.

With a strained voice, Price informs his team of your shocking offer. 

All hell breaks loose. Ghost practically falls into the nearest seat, head in his hands, muttering out “no, no, no” over and over again. Johnny begins to pace, arms flailing, muttering profanities. And Kyle… poor, poor Kyle just snaps.

He rushes towards John’s bed and grabs his captain from the collar of his shirt. “This is all your fucking fault,” he hisses. Gaz jerks the wounded soldier and yells, “if it wasn’t for your stupid rule, we wouldn’t be losing them!” And much to Kate’s shock, Price takes the berating. 

Kate rushes Kyle and pulls the sergeant off his captain. She switches spots with Gaz to create some distance between the two. Utterly confused by everything, she demands Kyle to explain what is going on.

And much to Kate’s shock, Kyle’s anger completely dissipates the second he turns towards her. His eyes, instead of burning with rage, glisten with grief. After taking a second to gather himself, Kyle tells Laswell the truth of these past few months.

The longer Kyle spoke, the more Kate’s stomach churned. She couldn’t believe her ears. She stared at each man in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? You all can’t be serious.” 

Their reactions only make it worse. Price and MacTavish’s ears burn red. Ghost looks to the floor and Kyle slowly nods.

“For fuck’s sake…” Kate’s voice is tight as she tries to restrain herself. “How can all of you be so immature?” she scolds. However, she can only hold her disscontempt back for so long. 

“What were you thinking?” she practically yells at Price. “Instead of getting your men in check, you decide to blame them for what… for for being nice... for existing?” 

She turns to the rest of them. “And don’t think you're exempt from this! I have seen you disobey orders from five-star generals, but when it’s muttonchops, you hesitate?”

Kate takes a moment to contain her anger. She has no clue why she’s so angry? Is she angry that her golden boys aren’t all that golden? Is she angry that men who she has bent over backwards for threw her protege under the bus just because they couldn’t control their dicks? Or is she angry that she outright blamed you for something that was never your fault? 

“Just tell me this, what was the logic? They, for some reason, stay and what… you all get to sleep with them and pretend like nothing happened? Tell me what did you think was going to happen?” 

No one dares to look at Kate which only angers her more.

She scoffs at them. “Pathetic all of you. You’re special forces for fuck’s sake .” She shakes her head in disgust at them and makes her way to the exit. However, before she leaves, she leaves the boys with one final warning. “I’m going to start the paperwork for their transfer, and the second they say they want it, I’m granting it. So do whatever you want, but just know, they didn’t deserve this… not one bit.” And with that, Kate Laswell leaves the 141 with that shame. 

— — — 

“What do we do?” 

The four men sit in silence. They all fester in their own self pity. Even Johnny’s attempt to rally the troops fell flat as even he didn’t believe that something could be done. 

How did they let this get this far? 

“We let them go,” Price admits. Kyle, Ghost, and Johnny turn at him in shock. “Kate’s right. They didn’t deserve this. We ignored them and made them feel like the problem when really it was us. They deserve a team and it’s clear that we can’t be one for them.”

“But Price, we can’t. We can’t just let them g—“

“Do you still love them?” Price asks not only to Johnny but to every man in that room. “Because I know I still do.” No one has to say anything as they all know the answer. The root of their problem is clearly still there and as long as it exists, there’s not much they can—

“So we’ll share.” All eyes immediately land on Ghost.

Kyle chokes on his spit. “What?” 

Ghost sits up straight in his seat. His eyes burned with determination. “You heard me, we’ll share. We’ll all date them, care for them, cherish them as we should have from the beginning.” 

“And if they only want one of us?” questions Johnny. Kyle and John hum and turn towards the lieutenant.

Ghost takes in a deep breath. “Then that’s their decision and we’ll respect that.” The four men glance at one another as they think over the lieutenant’s words. 

Kyle is the first to react as he lets out a small chuckle. “It’ll make going on solo missions easier if I know one of you guys are taking care of them. I’m in.” 

Johnny nods. His lips turn slightly upwards. “It'll make spoiling them easier.” 

Price laughs which gets the rest of the boys to smile. However, his joy quickly soured as his laugh tapered into something broken. “Why didn’t we think of this sooner?” he mourns. Johnny and Kyle shake their head in understanding. Why didn’t they think of this sooner?

“It doesn’t matter now,” Ghost commands. He rises from his seat and takes control of the situation. “We’re soldiers. We fight. And right now, we’ll fight to keep our spy on our side.” 

And with that, the 141 are set ablaze, each one ready to convince you to stay. 

Word Count: 1155

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[4ranghaes]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ bnd as dads pt.2 -> the first baby

bnd ot5 x reader [fluff, fem!mum!reader, dad!bnd]

a/n: brainrot..

..also on another note ik i’ve started writing smut for woonhak so i could write dad!au for him too i just dont have any headcanons for kids for him😭😭 if anyone has any ideas feel free to send them to my inbox !!!

sungho🎀 [namgi = 9 months]

“namgi-ah!” sungho gasped, his hands making grabbing motions as he sped towards the baby.

namgi was sat up in his crib, looking through the bars as he giggled. the time on the clock read 5:50, but sungho couldn’t find himself to care at this moment, not when his baby was this cute. it was clear the novelty of being a parent had not worn off yet.

“did you sleep well, baby?” sungho cooed, lifting his son into his arms and beginning to bounce back and forth, “hmm? well mummy’s still asleep, because i don’t know if you remember but she woke up to feed you twice last night! so we’ll let her sleep in.”

sungho narrated his thoughts to the baby in his arms as he left namgi’s room and walked into the kitchen. he placed his son in the walker on the floor before opening the fridge and looking inside.

“but, i was thinking we’ll make breakfast for when she wakes up, how does that sound, namgi-ah?”

“mama.”

“yeah that’s right! mama!” sungho chuckled, keeping one eye on his son as he began to make coffee for himself before starting on breakfast for the whole family.

he was stirring the eggs in the pan, turning back almost every minute to check his baby was still okay. but he could hear giggles and gurgles, and the occasional shaking of toys that reassured his mind.

once he’d finished the eggs, sungho took namgi out of his walker and placed him in the high chair at the kitchen table. sitting by his son, he began to cut up some fruit, handing mouthfuls to the baby every now and then.

“i think we’ll go to the park today, namie,” sungho spoke aloud, “i know we go to the park a lot but you like it, right? ooh we could take a picnic, make it a bit more exciting! we can ask mummy if she’d like to come when she wakes up, cause you’re a lot to handle, you know, and she might want a day to herself. not that we don’t love you, namgi, cause we love you the most ever in the world, okay? but—”

“who do you love most ever in the world?” you spoke, walking into the kitchen and kissing your son’s head, “me?”

“mama!” namgi cheered, making you giggle.

“well of course,” sungho smiled, a smitten expression on his face as he looked at you. “and mini us.”

“mini us!” you exclaimed, leaning over your baby boy and kissing his face, tickling his sides, namgi’s screaming laughter filling the kitchen.

sungho smiled, “come sit down, i made breakfast.”

“what?!” you gasped, “what is it, my birthday?”

sungho laughed, humming, “and, me and namgi were thinking about going to the park, want to join? or do you want to spend a lovely, long day by yourself which may or may not include a shower by yourself.”

you giggled, “actually we’re getting over the gross post-partum phase now! i’d love to come to the park with my boys.”

sungho giggled as he plated up breakfast, “family day out!”

riwoo🦦🍡 [yuri = 2 months]

“oh why, why, why?” riwoo cooed, his body almost unconsciously rocking back and forth as he patted yuri’s back, the tiny baby screaming ceaselessly.

“please yuri,” you whined, fake crying against your baby’s tiny back, your husband’s hand extending to yours.

“love, you should go to bed,” riwoo smiled sorrowfully as you sighed, looking to his face.

“no, no,” you shook your head, “we’re in this together, sanghyuk-ah.”

he nodded, sighing. riwoo smiled, wrapping a free arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your head.

“pass her over, i’ll try and get her to latch on again,” you said, grimacing at the loud cries as you stroked your baby’s head.

“you get comfortable then,” riwoo said, kissing your head agin, letting you leave to your shared bedroom and get comfortable in the bed.

you laid the pillow in your lap, riwoo coming in and laying yuri in your arms; both of you pouting at the baby’s continuous screams.

“please baby,” riwoo pleaded quietly as he helped hold her mouth open, both of you trying to get her to latch on, despite the cries. “we need you to help us too.”

finally, the cries ceased as her tiny lips wrapped around your nipple. you looked up to your husband with an almost tearful happy look, riwoo’s face shocked, mirroring yours.

“oh my god,” you whispered.

“finally!” he laughed, stroking your hair, “i’ll go and get you some snacks and a drink, okay? any requests?”

you smiled at his caring behaviour, shaking your head, “no thanks, anything’s fine.”

“okay,” riwoo spoke, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. he looked down at yuri, “anything for you ma’am? looks like you’re sorted for a drink. want some cookies to go with that?”

you laughed at your husband’s terrible jokes, as he smiled happily at the sound of your laughter. “you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you smiled, “just happy she’s stopped crying.”

“well, just hang tight for a minute. then we can watch a series and eat snacks till she’s done,” he smiled, excited eyes blinking at you.

“you should sleep, sanghyuk,” you chuckled, watching as he started to walk to the kitchen.

he stopped dramatically, holding up one finger, “never. we’re in this together, right?”

you giggled, nodding, “right.”

jaehyun🪻🐕 [jangmi = 7 months]

“where are my girls?!”

screaming laughter filled the apartment at just the sound of jaehyun’s voice. you smiled, picking up your baby girl off the floor and carrying her over to her dad, who had just arrived home, swooping her through the air with sound effects and all.

jaehyun laughed upon seeing her, taking off his shoes and approaching the two of you, hands outstretched and a huge smile on his face as he took his baby, cuddling her close.

“jangmi-ah!” he exclaimed, “i missed you so much, baby!”

you smiled, threading your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. jaehyun’s attention turned to you and he smiled.

“and my other girl, come here!” he exclaimed, pulling you in with his other arm. “how were you today?”

“good!” you chuckled, pressing a kiss to his lips, “we’ve been trying to talk, and walk…” you tickled your baby’s tummy as she scream laughed, flopping into jaehyun’s arms. “she’s close to saying mama i’m sure.”

“hmm, or dada,” he said, adjusting jangmi in his arms and walking into the apartment.

“i’m not sure,” you teased, following the pair. jaehyun sat on the sofa, continuing to play with jangmi, holding her in front of his face, pulling faces and tickling her as she screamed with giggles.

you smiled at the sight, walking to the kitchen to start on dinner, “how was your day?”

“it was good,” jaehyun smiled, looking to you. he got up, bringing the baby over to the kitchen as he hovered, overseeing what you were doing. “some dancing, some composing. you know, the usual.”

he continued to bounce jangmi as he spoke, jiggling her in his arms on certain words so she giggled.

“yeah?” you hummed

“yeah,” jaehyun giggled, hugging his daughter tight, “oh, i missed you two though!”

“i know,” you snickered, “i got a message from a very annoyed taesan asking you to stop talking about your baby.”

jaehyun rolled his eyes, “whatever. like he doesn’t love babies.”

taesan🎸🐈‍⬛ [baekho = 1 day]

“morning,” taesan smiled, as your eyes blinked open.

the bright, sterile lights of the hospital weren’t a great view to start the day; but the sight of your husband’s face as he stood, holding your new baby in his arms brought a smile to your face.

“morning,” you said, groaning as you stretched, sitting up in bed.

“how are you feeling?” taesan asked, sitting on the side of the hospital bed.

“i’m okay,” you nodded, “little sore.”

“of course,” he chuckled, looking back down to little baekho, laying in his arms.

“can i hold our baby?” you asked in a small voice, making taesan laugh.

“never,” he spoke, already handing the tiny baby over to you.

you giggled, looking at the tiny, reddened face, screwed up with sleep, “look at him. i can’t believe he’s ours.”

taesan shook his head, “i know. you’re a mum.”

“you’re a dad,” you spoke, looking up at your husband’s face.

he couldn’t hide his smile, not taking his eyes off of baekho.

“my family are gonna come to the hospital today to meet him,” he said, stroking the baby’s face with a gentle finger, “but just meet him and leave, it’s okay, they won’t stay for long.”

“it’s okay, i don’t mind,” you smiled, leaning against taesan’s body, “i’m happy he has family who love him.”

“of course,” taesan whispered, “he always will.”

you giggled, nodding. even at just a few hours old, you could recognise the shape of his nose, and taesan’s full lips.

“i’m a dad…” taesan whispered, “i can’t believe it.”

“you’re gonna be the best,” you murmured, smiling as you looked at your husband’s teary eyes. you leaned forward, kissing his cheek.

he silently wiped a tear, resting his head atop yours and sighing down at his son.

“baekho-ya,” he spoke, chuckling as he poked his cheek, “han baekho. ah, my baby.”

leehan🪸🐠 [sua = 4 months]

“i don’t name them, sua, but if you wanted to you could,” leehan spoke, patting his daughter’s back softly as he rocked gently side to side.

he was stood beside the fish tank you had installed in the living room of your home, the baby resting against his chest, her head turned to one side as she stared at the lights and colours of the fish tank in fascination.

“this one’s a tetra,” leehan spoke, “rummy nose tetra.”

he leaned down and kissed her head, trying to peak a look at her face; but the way she was positioned made it hard.

“y/n?” he called, keeping his voice soft, “is she asleep?”

you walked round to your husband’s side, resting a hand on his back as you looked to your baby’s bug eyes, staring up at you.

you giggled, “nope.”

leehan sighed, readjusting her position, “are you not sleepy, sua? you need to sleep!”

“maybe we should cut her naps,” you offered, beginning to clean up the toys across the living room.

“maybe,” your husband hummed, continuing to pat her back and explain the colourful fish. he started humming a song, beginning to walk round the house, patting her back.

“her eyes are shut now,” you whispered, following your family to the nursery.

leehan chuckled, exasperated as he shut his eyes and fake cried, “please, sua. i’m begging you.”

you giggled, continuing to watch her tiny body. the harsh grip she had on her dad’s t-shirt loosened as you nodded up at your husband.

“i think that’s it,” you whispered. leehan smiling at you, leaning down to kiss sua’s head. “now just got to get her in the crib.”

he squeezed his eyes shut, chuckling.

“sorry, i know this is hard, and you’ve been at practise all day,” you smiled sorrowfully, leehan quickly shaking his head.

“no, no,” he said, assuredly, “i love it. i love spending time with her, no matter what it is. even changing her!”

you giggled, wincing slightly as you watched your husband lower the baby into her crib.

“i tell the boys about her non stop.”

you smiled, “yeah?”

“yeah,” he chuckled, keeping a firm hand on sua’s stomach to soothe her. “they can’t wait to see her again. ooh i should take her to practise tomorrow.”

“hmm, i don’t know what she’ll do for the day,” you laughed slightly, both of you creeping out the room as her whimpers subsided and she fell back asleep. “i could come over at some point though, bring her, say hello to the boys. i haven’t seen them since she was born either.”

leehan closed the door gently, wincing as he did. he sighed when it closed with no disturbance. he smiled, kissing your head as the two of you collapsed onto the sofa. “sounds amazing, babe.”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Hunter and Him

Remmick x female!reader

Summary: After Annie and Mary trained you to be a vampire hunter, you imagine that the last thing they would have expected was for you to fall in love with one. Every night, you sneak off to be with Remmick, but on a night when Mary and Annie almost catch the two of you together, Remmick asks you to leave with him for good.

Notes/Warnings: Smut, so 18+ please. Remmick is soft boy. That honestly might be it.

I don't support the actions of this character in the movie at all. I just think the guy's hot, alright? I'm sorry. I can't even explain why.

Words: 3200

Sinners Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

You used to tell yourself you didn’t know what he was when you met him. That when he found his way into one of Clarksdale’s only bars, it wasn’t because he asked the front doorman for permission, it was because he was like any other patron, a regular man who walked right through the door like anyone else, ready for a good time. You told yourself that when he asked you for a dance and you took his hand, his skin wasn’t colder to the touch than it should have been. You let yourself pretend that the low lighting in the bar was not reflecting off of his irises in an unnatural way, and that when he smiled at you, there wasn’t a slight exaggeration to his canines. 

You reassured yourself of these things because you had to. Because you were reckless that night, and recklessness was not in your nature. Because after an hour in his company and too many drinks, you led him around the bar to the back alley where you let him take you against the weathered brick wall, and kiss you, and nick the skin of your neck with his teeth. He licked the trail of blood from your collarbone back up to the little mark he’d made, and you allowed yourself believe that was normal, because if the others found out, not only would they kill him, but they would likely kill you, too.

Mary and Annie had been hunters long before you. When you met, they’d been following a lead which sent them to your house, and it was there they’d found you, huddled into a corner, your sopping face hidden by your bloodied hands as the decapitated bodies of your parents and brother lay around you. They’d comforted you, as women do, and convinced you to join them—they’d lost people too—so you did. Mary had taught you how to fight, Annie how to track. 

You should have ended him the moment the internal alarm in you sensed the potential of what he was. Mary and Annie would have. They would have clocked him immediately and done their job. But not you. 

To be fair, you were the newest hunter. Your guesses and suspicions had been off a time or two, leading you to follow a perfectly innocent man to his home, only to find a loving family there to greet him. You could’ve easily been wrong about Remmick. Ignoring the signs didn’t necessarily have to do with the way he looked at you and how it made the blood in your body rush as if trying to outrun something. 

But a few nights after the bar encounter, you could no longer play that game with yourself. He showed up at your house in the dead of night, knocking and shocking you awake. You hadn’t given him your address, and yet there he stood, unable to step past your threshold even though you held the door open wide enough for his frame to enter. No words were spoken to confirm it. Instead, you told him to come in, and he kissed you and nibbled on you and took you all over again. 

That has been your pattern ever since. You lie to your friends, you invite him in or sneak off somewhere, you fuck a vampire, you part ways before sunrise, you repeat. Six months you’ve been going on. And tonight is no different. 

—

It’s not like it’s easy. You feel guilt every time you do it. Betraying your friends was never something you wanted, it was something the lord forced upon you when he allowed Remmick to enter your life. And now that you’re locked in, you can’t be expected to stop. 

As you escape into the woods that line the back of your house, Annie and Mary lie asleep inside. You know he’s watching you, smirking. He will never not revel in the satisfaction he feels from having you to himself in the most risky of times. And you will never get enough of the feeling of anticipation that fills your gut each time you come to him. 

The density of the forest blocks out the majority of the moonlight, nothing but a few beams streaming through sparse openings in the treetops. As you venture forth, you lift your skirt, carefully stepping over winding roots and around patches of vines, avoiding mud puddles that will surely ruin your slippers and the hem of your silk robe. 

“About time, darlin’,” he says, and you pause, your head on a swivel. 

He reveals himself from the shadow cast by a large tree. There’s a slight curl to his lips as he stands there. A second passes, and you take each other in like it’s the first time you’re seeing one another. His eyes are their natural shade, his fangs nowhere in sight, but, as always, he carries the air of a vampire—confidence, with a touch of arrogance. 

As he walks toward you, an unhurried gait to his steps, the same effects he’s had on you since you met him return: heart pumping, breath catching, blood rushing, face blushing. 

You still can’t quite put your finger on how he does this to you. After all, he’s not the only man who has shown you attention. But where those men produced in you little emotion, if any, Remmick’s presence sinks into you, rapping on the closed door of sensations you’ve never felt before—a deep desire, a thrilling need that is ever more overwhelming with him so close. It’s like there is an invisible aura around him capable of casting a spell over anyone within a certain radius. Or perhaps, it is just you. Maybe you are the only one meant to react this way to him. 

“They’re at my house tonight,” you tell him. “Had to wait until they were good and asleep.”

Remmick hums, unpleased despite your perfectly reasonable excuse. 

“We have to be quick,” you say, and to that, his brows dip in the center and his bottom lip protrudes in a slight pout. 

“Why?”

You roll your eyes. “You know why.”

“We always gotta be quick,” he grumbles, his arms crossing over his chest. “I’m tired of quick.”

Truth be told, you’re tired of quick, too. But it can’t be helped. You both have the lives you have, and both of those lives come with complications—time, undeniably, being one of them, and how limited yours is when you most wish it would cease ticking on. Nothing can stop the world from spinning, however. Nothing can stop the night from ending, the morning from coming, or your friends from waking and questioning your absence. 

“Just take off your clothes,” you tell him. 

He stares at you for a few lengthy seconds, but eventually he sighs and reaches for his shirt. One by one, deft fingers pop open the buttons, exposing inch by inch of his toned chest. Then he pulls the suspenders off his shoulders, lets them fall to his sides, and yanks the rest of his shirt from his trousers to undo the remaining closures. His eyes remain on your face as the cotton slides down his arms onto the ground before he attacks the clasp of his pants. With thumbs tucked into the waistband, he guides the trousers, along with his underwear, over his hips, and lightly kicks them aside so they can join his discarded shirt. 

Every inch of his body is muscled. They’re not the muscles of a man engaging in back-breaking work on the daily, but they’re just the right amount of toned to keep him strong. Enough to lift you and hold you how he pleases. You think you’ll never get over the sight of him. 

Goosebumps skitter down your arms. You somehow manage to keep your voice steady when you say, “Lie down.”

He raises a brow but does as he’s told, dropping to his knees and reclining back onto a patch of grass as you reach for the tie that is keeping your robe wrapped around you. You pull on one of the tails of the bow until the material peels apart. You didn’t bother with undergarments tonight—it’s too hot as it is—and you don’t miss the heavy inhale that Remmick sucks in through his nose as his stare roams from your breasts to your navel to the slit between your legs. 

Stepping out of your slippers, you move toward him. When you’re close, he extends his hand and you let him assist you in settling on top of his thighs. His cock is swollen red, on the verge of a bruised purple, aching, pleading, as if you didn’t just satisfy one another the night before. It twitches when you take it in your hand and pump once, twice. A vein pulses against your palm. Remmick’s breathing fails to remain calm, and then with a squeeze of your fist, his eyelids pinch and the back of his head digs into the dirt. He releases a delicate whimper. That whimper quickly loses out to a gasp, which then turns into a groan when you rise on your knees, guide him to your entrance, and take him inside of you. 

Strong hands fly to your waist, nails elongating into razors and poking into your skin. You watch his adam’s apple bob harshly in his throat. You try to shift your hips, but his grip on you tightens to keep you still. Patiently, you wait, and it’s not until his fingers ease their pressure that you plant your hands on his abdomen and test out another roll of your hips. His grasp tightens again, but this time he eases his hold much sooner.

For his benefit as much as your own, you start slow. Despite the familiarity of him inside of you, your body never seems to get used to the stretch, the fullness. Each time, it takes a toll on you, but thankfully he has yet to decide to rush your pace.

When he opens his eyes, they’re their typical red, glazed over with lust. His teeth are longer and pointed at the ends. His palms slide up your waist, claws running along the curve of your breasts before brushing over hardened buds. Your walls clench around him, and his jaw sharpens from his grinding molars. When his pelvis bucks, the air is punched out of your lungs.

It takes a moment to regain your breath, but once you do, he sits up and his arms cinch around your waist. His face is a mere inch away, your gazes locked, your oxygen shared—it’s close and yet not close enough. He leans in and his lips ghost over yours; a kiss that is as much of a kiss as can be without fully eclipsing your mouth with his own. One of your hands rests on his bicep, the other gripping the back of his neck, and you move again, lifting up and gently sliding back down, and lifting up, and sliding down. A low moan rumbles from his chest as his forehead falls against your collarbone. 

You don’t talk. There’s no need for words. Only touch. Only overwhelming sensations. It’s all groans and moans and whimpers and breathing, and that’s all you want it to be. 

But then you hear your name being called in the distance. 

Remmick squeezes you as if to keep you from fleeing, holding you down until you’re speared to the hilt and unable to move. The tension in his body forces you to shove aside the concern of your friends’ voices. You’re deep enough in the woods; surely they won’t find you any time soon.

Placing your hands on his face, you guide him to look at you. “It’s ok,” you whisper, nodding. “It’s ok.”

He blinks and swallows and frees you enough so you can resume the motion of your hips. Gentle, then harder, then faster until you’re tumbling over the edge.

Remmick’s palm over your mouth muffles your whine as the tight coil in your core releases. When he follows after you, you do the same, pressing your hand to his lips to keep his groan locked in his throat. 

As you come down, your face tucks into the crook where his neck meets his shoulder. The tips of his claws trace along your spine in the moment of silence; the delicate moment of peace that no living soul is permitted to invade.

He breaks that silent peace when he says, “Stay,” the lone word riding on the back of a heavy exhale. 

Immediately, your lungs constrict. Your chest sinks in on itself. You hate this part. 

“They'll find me,” you say. “They'll find you.”

“Then come with me. Right now.”

Your head whips up. A crease forms between your brows. “Remmick.”

“We could go where we want. Wherever you wanna be, I'll take ya there.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips, then says, “Won't be hidin’ no more.” Another kiss. “You love me, don't ya?”

You’ve never said it. Neither has he. But you know. You both know. 

Your name echoes through the trees again, and your heartbeat is no longer fueled by the heat of passion but an anxious chill that makes your skin clammy. Your head twists in the direction of the voices. They’re getting closer. Teeth nip at your neck, but when you pay it no attention, Remmick’s hand cups your cheek and he turns your face back to his. You lock eyes. The red is gone, replaced by the luminescence of the white that reflects the moon’s glow. Fangs are retracted, save for the canines. 

“C'mon, darlin’,” he whispers, his stare piercing into yours. “You got nothin’ keepin’ you here.”

You consider his words. Is that true? You’ve got your house. You’ve got this town, the people in this town. You’ve got your friends. But, at the same time, you’re no fool. To keep all of that means you can’t keep him. Because one day, you’ll slip up, and when you do, Annie and Mary won’t understand. They won’t spare him a stake to the heart just because that heart already belongs to you. They will rip that heart out of your hands and do what must be done to turn the man you love to ash before your very eyes, assuming they don’t make you carry out the act yourself. They will show no remorse because they will have none. Through your tears, their faces will be blurry shapes, and those blurry shapes will tell you to get over it, to get back to your job and do it the way they trained you. 

But you won’t be able to get over it. Neither will you be able to forgive them for the enjoyment they will receive from ending him. 

You’ve staked a handful of vampires, including the one that killed your family, and you know the feeling of ridding the world of one more monster. It’s addicting, as much of a high as falling apart on Remmick’s cock, and that is what Annie and Mary will feel when they take him from you. They love you, you love them, but love will not prevail over injecting that drug into their veins.

Remmick’s thumb lazily swipes over your bottom lip. As if the motion has also wiped your slate of mind clean, you drop your thoughts and focus your attention back on him, his face, the look in his eyes. He’s unsure, you realize, not confident that you will give him what he’s asking for, and it creates a little crack in your heart. But you already have your answer, the only answer you were ever going arrive at. 

You nod a single, firm nod and say, “Okay.”

—

You came back. Just this once. Just to visit. Just to check on them. From a distance, of course. If they caught sight of you, they’d be able to detect what you are in an instant, and you can’t risk that. They’d be ashamed of you, and having once been their friend would not likely stop them from doing what they consider themselves put on this earth to do. So you don’t put them in that position. 

You were declared lost, then missing, then dead. There was a funeral. There’s a tombstone with your name etched into it, standing above an empty coffin in the one graveyard on the edge of town. 

To the world, you are gone. But you think they know. 

Earlier in the night, when you stood outside their window, you caught them talking about you. They started on how much they miss you, but that did not last long before they were prying back into the details your disappearance, how odd it was, how random, how different you’d become in the months prior. Mary said it wasn’t the first time she’d woken in the middle of the night to find you absent, only for you to be tucked back in bed by morning. Annie reminded her of the time they tracked a vampire to the woods behind your house and how tirelessly you worked to convince them it was just a deer. 

It went no further than that, and after recounting their memories, they stared at one another for a beat before shaking their heads and switching the conversation to something a little more logical. You suspect it’s because neither of them wanted to speak it aloud.

It’s for the best. The sooner they let you go, the better. You are not coming back from the dead. It’s amongst the dead where you have chosen to belong. With him. 

From the shadows, you watch your friends step through the door of the bar where you met Remmick. It feels like just yesterday your eyes landed on him for the first time, and yet forever ago. You imagine that is how the rest of your life will feel as well; the effects of eternity.

Arms suddenly wrap around your waist from behind. “Few months we’ll come back if ya want,” Remmick says, planting a kiss on your shoulder. 

Tingles spread down your limbs at the pleasure of his lips on you. One thing he didn’t prepare you for ahead of time: everything is intensified in this new form. Every inch of your skin is more sensitive, every touch is more consuming, every orgasm more shattering. You still haven’t gotten used to it. 

Your hand reaches up, fingers sifting and fisting into his hair. He chuckles, and that kiss turns into a bite that makes the hair on your arms stand on end. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” you tell him. “I’m dead here.”

His tongue catches the blood that drains from your puncture wounds and he licks a line up your neck to your ear. “You’re dead everywhere,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “Dead and mine.”

You smile then, and anything that isn’t him and his body against yours melts away. Because he is all that matters. Despite what you had to give up, you made the right choice, and nothing on this earth could convince you otherwise.

Turning in his arms, your link your hands around his neck. The kiss is slow, tender. When it breaks, he rests his forehead against yours. 

Yes. 

Dead and his. 

Forever.

---

A/N: Thank you for reading :) If you liked it, let me know. It always makes my day.

Tag List

[runninguplenorahills]

“flashbacks, warm nights, almost left behind” - man I love time after time 🤧

I think the entire situation surrounding Max in s2 is so interesting because imo it ties the coming of age and sci-fi plot together. Not only does this new found interest in a girl signal that the boys are entering teenage hood, it also suggests that the boys are moving on from what happened in s1. And in both aspects, Mike is lagging behind.

Coming of Age:

Mike, Lucas and Dustin’s attitudes towards befriending a girl (and in this sense I do believe it is of significance that Max and El are both girls) are essentially reversed from s1 to s2. In s1 Mike is the one taking El in with Lucas thinking he’s crazy for doing so and Dustin not only being entirely baffled by El trying to change in front of them, but also shocked that Mike would let “a girl” stay the night. They both have their qualms about Mike’s decision while Mike seems to not be fazed by the fact that El is a girl; he lets her stay the night because she needs somewhere to stay, but also because he can’t inform his parents about her right away lest they all get in trouble.

In s2, while they’re all curious as to who MADMAX is at first, the minute they find out (that she’s a girl), Mike loses interest. Now it’s Lucas and Dustin at the forefront of wanting to befriend a girl, but this time specifically because they think she’s cool i.e.: are attracted to her. And the best part is that this “love triangle” is foreshadowed in the arcade scene when Dustin plays “Dragon’s Lair” where he needs to save a princess. He fails to do so and Lucas comments that he stays undefeated i.e.: Lucas managed to save the princess i.e.: Lucas gets with Max. Mike and Will however hang back in that scene; they’re not really concerned with saving a princess themselves (which also hints at the fact that Will’s curiosity surrounding Max was never attraction based).

The boys are thirteen now, they’re entering teenage hood, they’re growing up and, unlike when they were just kids/twelve, they should start being interested in girls. Only that it seems like Mike is the only one who isn’t. And it’s not like he just doesn’t care, no, he’s showing an intense aversion to the girl everyone else finds so endlessly endearing.

Mike is shown to literally lag behind everyone else (like op discussed) because he’s not attracted to girls (which then manifests into “not having grown up yet” and him forcing himself to be grown up in s3).

Sci-Fi:

S1 only takes place over the span of like a week and although it was traumatizing, it’s over. They got Will back, everything is fine. We can’t really hold it against Lucas and Dustin that they’re not really thinking about El anymore because they’ve only known her for such a short time. And them not being overly concerned about Will’s behavior makes sense because it’s been a year since any of that happened, they think the UD isn’t a threat anymore and it’s obvious that Will will show lasting effects of what happened. Mike however cannot seem to move on. Which makes perfect sense too though, because he was the most involved with El and furthermore, he clearly pushed her to her limits the most. Up until she sacrificed herself for them while addressing only Mike. And of course Will went missing while biking home from Mike’s place who is shown to have the most severe reaction (out of the party) to Will’s disappearance throughout s1.

Their respective behavior makes perfect sense, but when you’re the one radioing a dead girl whose death you blame yourself for every day and falling into a state of panic at every instance of unusual behavior from your best friend, seeing everyone else seemingly move on with life feels infuriating (which is why finding out that Will hasn’t moved on either feels comforting).

And this is where I personally believe that the Max situation does connect to El bc Mike clearly blames himself for El’s death. Him radioing El every day for a year screams survivor’s guilt and although he doesn’t seem to see Max as a replacement for El (like op pointed out), letting her join the party would still be indicative of a kind of readiness to take in someone new i.e.: forget about El and move on from her.

S2 comes to an end, El comes back, they close the gate for real this time, and now they can all move on. Oh wait, they can’t because the mindflayer isn’t actually gone which might suggest that Mike moving on in the coming of age department by dancing with and kissing El (a girl) is a deception as well.

Season 2 Mike definitely saw Max as a love rival for Will

Another Byler from Mike Wheeler's POV analysis—(Unrequited love trope edition).

Walk with me.

Sometimes I think about how when the party went trick-or-treating Mike specifically told Will that he, "should have checked with him" first before letting Max join them.

It's just a very peculiar moment. Why Will?

Even Will was confused by this, lol.

We know that Mike doesn't like Max in season 2 (for reasons we'll look into more), but why did he make this Will's problem/ responsibility? Especially after only knowing of her existence for 2 days at this point.

He wasn't angry at Lucas or Dustin—or at least, he didn't expect them to come to him for permission—otherwise he would have said something to them, too.

It was Will who he felt betrayed by and upset with.

Heck, go ahead and take a second look at the first screenshot provided above.

Does Mike look angry to you?

No—he looks forlorn.

Let me break it down for you:

I'll start by saying when the party learned of MADMAX the screename, they were all equally interested in knowing who it was.

But when Max is introduced to us as a character (and revealed to be a girl), we get markedly different reactions between the boys.

In the first frame, they have no idea who she is or what her name is. All they see is a new girl. (Played by Sadie Sink mind you, who is very pretty).

Look at Mike's face: he already looks sulky.

The second frame is after they learn her name is Max. Once again, all four boys show some level of interest, but Mike remains sulky.

Then we have the recess scene in which the boys are watching Max, which is very interesting.

Consider the blocking and body language in this frame:

Look at Will here: he's just as interested in Max as Lucas and Dustin are (even if his interest is not based on attraction). In fact, he's the main focus of this frame for some reason.

Mike is the only one who hangs back, and his body language is completely different from the other three (hands in pockets, meaning he is distanced). He has no interest whatsoever and his facial expression appears agitated.

Mike feels like the odd one out here.

Will fits in.

When they "lose the target" Will is the one who spots her and reinitiates the "watching." Once again, Will is the main focus of this shot and even seems to be showing the most interest; his expression is bright and engaged.

He runs with Lucas and Dustin to the wastebin while Mike trails behind begrudgingly, not wanting to be left behind.

It begs the question: why is Will the focal point among the four boys in a scene about looking at a girl, if he was never intended to be a love interest?

I argue it's because we're seeing this interaction from a very specific perspective—the perspective of Mike Wheeler, who is standing back and observing.

It's also worth noting that Will's change in demeanor and energy here is extremely apparent.

He is noticeably withdrawn and low in spirits this season due to his PTSD (both literal and metaphorical if you count the MF as a metaphor for trauma).

And Mike notices. He’s the one who points out that Will had been "quiet today"—a detail the others miss because they don’t watch Will the way he does.

Notice that Will is disengaged during the science lesson (before Max arrives), while the other three are nerding out. Will previously participated in the science fair—it typically interests him—but his mood is very low.

Then compare that with his immediate engagement when Max walks into the classroom, and the level of interest he showed during recess. Mike would certainly observe this shift, paying as much attention to Will as he does.

In fact, once the distraction of Max has passed and the principal comes to collect him, Will's body language retreats again; shoulders hunched, eyes downcast.

What conclusion do you think Mike would come to based off these few short interactions?

(And these are the only interactions Mike sees between Will and Max before trick-or-treating together the next day. Mike hasn't even spoken to her yet).

From Will's perspective, this girl is just a novelty: a light-hearted distraction from everything else going on, offering a spot of normalcy.

But from Mike's perspective, this is a pretty new girl showing up out of nowhere and immediately raising Will's spirits: something he felt like he failed to do.

And so it brings us to the trick-or-treating scene, in which Will (apparently) joins Dustin and Lucas in their enthusiasm for Max joining the party, while Mike hangs back and then begrudgingly follows, not wanting to be left behind.

Are we noticing the pattern?

Then we have Mike's confrontation with Will (this happens after Will is seen filming Max, btw). He tells Will he should have checked with him about Max joining them and that Max is, "ruining the best night of the year."

Uh... what? What did she do?

He then storms off: inentionally leaving Will behind this time.

(He wants him to know how that feels).

Following this interaction, Will has a big scare with the MF—and of course, it’s Mike who finds him first. Despite his mood, Mike is still attentive and protective.

Mike behaves possessively when he finds Will, not wanting the others to get involved. He takes Will “home” (his home) so they can be alone.

What follows is a scene that, put simply, is about reciprocation.

Interestingly, Mike’s attitude toward Max shifts after this scene with Will—he doesn’t have anything to say about Max joining the party in the AV room to look at Dustin’s pollywog.

This is the girl who apparently ruined Halloween.

You’d think he’d still be unhappy to see her.

But after that conversation with Will in his basement, Mike feels more secure and reassured about the state of their relationship.

He's no longer jealous.

So now, it's apparently fine for Max to be in the party.

Well, that changes again.

The next notable interaction is after Mike realises the pollywog is from the UD. Mike immediately goes into protective mode. It’s not Will who storms into the classroom to grab the trap—it’s Mike.

It’s also (presumably) Mike who locks Max outside of the AV room when they discuss this, yelling at her that she can’t come inside.

When she opens the door anyway, the pollywog escapes—and (of course) Mike blames her. No one else points fingers.

Now, the boys were hesitant to reveal any information about the UD for obvious reasons, but here we see the recurring theme in the Mike/Will/Max triangle: Mike’s protectiveness (and slight possessiveness) of Will.

So, a recap of Mike’s perspective so far:

First gripe: You’re hogging Will’s attention (possessive) Second gripe: You’ve compromised Will’s safety (protective)

Then we finally have the confrontation between Mike and Max:

It literally starts with Mike telling Max to leave because she's in the boys' room. (Similar to his "boys only" comment in season 3).

Let's not get it twisted: When Max finally asks Mike why he's been treating her the way he has been, he deflects.

Mike, who always has a ready opinion and is not afraid of confrontation, is not comfortable sharing the real reason why.

It’s commonly believed that Mike simply didn’t like Max because her presence reminded him of El’s absence—and I see it—but after a closer look, I no longer agree.

Firstly, I don’t think it’s fair to assume that Max would remind Mike of El (or rub salt in the wound of her absence) just because they’re both girls. Max and El couldn’t be more different—physically or otherwise—and that distinction feels intentional.

Mike would never compare Max to El, because to him, El is incomparable—a superhero who saved his (and Will’s) life.

Also, in Mike’s mind, El is still in the party—he lists her name off with the other members.

Max wouldn’t be a replacement.

He literally just stated that she would be an addition.

Secondly, Mike never actually makes this connection himself. He simply offhandedly mentions El when he’s trying to convince Max she’s not needed.

So why does he want her to stay away?

And when El is finally introduced (both through conversation and literally) to this dynamic, what happens?

Mike and Max begin to get along.

They share a smile.

If Mike’s issue with Max had anything to do with El, the scene wouldn’t have played out this way.

It’s classic misdirection.

The misdirection is so obvious they lean into it—even having El herself misinterpret Mike and Max’s relationship, becoming jealous.

She mistakenly assumes Mike is interested in Max, just like Mike mistakenly assumed Will was interested in her, too.

They’re giving the audience a warped perspective, urging us to look behind the curtain.

Mike’s behaviour towards Max fits perfectly into Byler’s shared arc in Season 2: Mike is attentive, protective, and possessive over Will, while Will—consumed by the MF—can’t fully reciprocate that attention.

The “crazy together” scene is the only time Mike receives the same energy back from Will the entire season.

I feel like people forget that when they talk about how cute Season 2 was for Byler. Cute from Will’s perspective, maybe (supernatural plot aside)—but for Mike?

We get multiple shots of Mike staring at Will or noticing his absence (Mike staring at Will’s empty desk being the most obvious example).

That’s called pining.

Will does not invite Mike to his house or show up uninvited—Mike does that. Will does not hold Mike’s hand—Mike does that. Will does not watch Mike closely or check in on him constantly—Mike does that. Will does not become possessive of Mike’s attention—Mike does that.

In fact, they play into this unreciprocated affection trope pretty blatantly—when Mike bares his heart to Will, tearfully recounting their first meeting, Will quite literally cannot respond because he’s possessed—even if he wants to.

Not to mention—Mike’s recount of their first meeting is also (thematically) about reciprocation:

“I asked if you wanted to be my friend. And you said yes. You said yes.”

Mike puts emphasis on the fact that Will said yes: the fact that Will reciprocated his feelings.

That is what he wants.

He wants validation that Will feels the same.

That Will won't leave him behind.

And what happens at the end of Season 2?

From a Byler perspective, this season is about Mike’s (seemingly) unrequited love for Will—and it directly influences Mike’s (very different) behaviour in Season 3.

So yeah.

Mike didn’t like Max because he was jealous, and coping with feelings for Will he feared were one-sided—and in his mind that was confirmed as true.

Why wouldn’t he be relieved to see El at the snowball dance?

Why wouldn’t he kiss her?

Why wouldn’t he immediately start dating her and pushing Will away?

[igotanidea]

Two lines: Dick Grayson x reader (pt1)

Aka: the one when Dick really wants to be a dad.

Request and summary here

short I know, sorry, but busy, part 2 coming!

***

He thought she was naive.

That she didn’t notice all the twisted games and unconvincing explanations he had been serving her on a daily basis.

Maybe it was some sort of mid-life crisis Dick was experiencing, only that it was neither mid-life nor crisis.

Probably hormones going crazy then.

Yes, yes it was probably hormones.

Like a male brain activating around the 30s, screaming at the one to procreate, make babies and pass the genes onto the next generations of offspring.

Not that she was complaining about it, but sometimes it was simply hard to not laugh and keep a straight face.

Like at the moment when Dick was acting completely erratic, kissing her and slowly unbuttoning her shirt while they both knew exactly that there were zero useful condoms in the entire house.

“Dick, we don’t have-“

“Hush, baby-“ he cut her off with a kiss, sending clothes flying all over the room. “I have a few spare ones right in here…” she was triumphantly presented with a little foil package.

Right.

That one foil package.

One week earlier

“What are you doing?”

Taken by surprise Dick had dropped the needle he had been holding and had abruptly turned to look at her, with guilt all over his face.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you got scared.” She had laughed, knowing exactly why her sudden enter had made him jump on the chair.

“What? No! Of course not! Why would I get scared, it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.” Despite his best efforts, there had been no way he could have hidden the little rubber band he had been tampering with.

“Of course not.” She had smiled, playing a little dumb for his sake. “You’re my good boy after all, aren’t you?” a soft kiss had landed on his forehead, as if she had zero idea what that particular choice of words had been doing to him.

“Mmmmm-“

“What now?”

“Nothing.” He had muttered, slumping on the chair. He hadn’t liked that she was becoming suspicious of his behavior since it had made it impossible to take on some action. The action he desperately needed.

How did she expect him to control himself around her?

They had been newlyweds and she was the young, attractive wife. How did she expect him to not imagine her with a belly and swollen tits?

He loved her so much, why couldn’t she see that all he wanted was a family with her, little babies running around and calling him daddy and reaching their little fingers to him and having Y/N care for the kids and putting all his male instincts into protecting his wife, his woman and his their offspring?

God damn it.

Married life was so freaking hard and way more unstable than engagement.

Who would have thought that the insecurity mode would activate after getting hitched.

***

“Dick – “

“Mmm?” His lips skimmed down her neck as he was in particularly teasing mood.

“I think I should go on pill—”

“What?” he froze instantly “What pill? What the hell are you talking about?” His hands stilled on her waist, but not letting her go, fighting the urge to shake her and hopefully – knock some sense into her in a process.

“I mean hormonal– “

“What?! We’re using condoms, for god’s sake, why would you need the pill!?”

She couldn’t have been serious. Here he was trying so hard to get her pregnant in a way she wouldn’t figure and she was trying to sabotage his efforts?

Felt like the ground was burning under his feet.

Over his dead body.

“It’s simply more effective and – “

“By one percent!”

“It’s a lot, all things considered. I mean – we’ve been having sex non-stop for weeks-“

“ Because we’re crazy-in-love newlyweds, unable to keep hands off each other and – “ There, he was getting desperate. Too desperate for his liking.

“I’m still too young to get pregnant.”

Fuck. There was no good way to answer that without coming out as a self-absorbed dick. Ironically.

“That’s why we’re using condoms, baby.” He cooed, trying to placate and soothe her without coming close to gaslighting. “Come on… would it really be that bad to have kids with your loving husband?”

“I’m not saying that—”

“Just let me love you princess…” he yanked her up, holding wedding style in the same way he did barely a few months ago while exiting the church with rings on their fingers. Only that this time his intention was to carry her to the bedroom not to the party.

Though thinking about it, what they were about to do was indeed a kind of party.