He was finally able to call in for a mini-vacation, just to enjoy the long weekend but unfortunately, the long weekend was not a luxury you could afford. Your company was in dire need of preparations to be made and proofed before the overhaul happening next week.

In the morning, Mark wanted extra cuddle time after your alarm had gone off, but you were in desperate need to get ready so you could finish your work faster; fine.

During your lunch break, Mark took the time to craft up some lovely sandwiches, hoping the two of you could sit and eat it under the sun, but you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, took your food and ran back to your desk to work; ... fine.

Throughout the rest of the day, Mark did his best to leave you to work but his vying for your attention and touch was obvious as he followed you around the house in between meetings and document printing.

He would rest his chin on your shoulder, watching you work but as still as he tried to be, the presence of someone quite literally watching you work made you uneasy so you shoved him away, telling him to go watch TV or something.

Mark murmured to himself, eyebrows and nose scrunched at the vexing distaste of being ignored and rightfully pushed away, "The audacity, I just want cuddles..."

Leaning upside down on the couch, legs propped straight up against the wall, he idly watched you as you speak on the phone with your courteous "phone voice". The one where you seemed a little too sweet and too innocent, like the ones the baristas at his favourite cafe often used. Usually, your phone voiced amused him, but not today. Today, he was hellbent on being grumpy about everything you did, unless it was cuddling him.

When you had hung up the phone, he sighed in an attempt to get your attention. The pout was forming, you could feel it, but you had to will yourself to ignore him. A few more passive-aggressive huffs later, you waved your hand asking if he would like to just order take-out for dinner.

There were a lot of things Mark wanted to eat for dinner, but he stubbornly decided against giving you a definite answer or suggestion. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes closed as he huffed in defiance. Now you were trying to get him out of the house and away from you! This was not fine.

"Mark?"

You called his name once more following a lack of response. Finishing your last page of the day, you sighed. The looming shadow of a clingy boyfriend started to fill the once, supposedly ambient workspace. Even if you weren't done work for the day, you probably would have caved.

You stopped short of the couch, hands are your hips as you stared down at your grumpy boyfriend. His head lulling off the seat of the sofa from the way he had orientated himself.

"Mark," you called out again, this time growing a little impatient with the childish attitude. His eye twitched behind his closed lids at the sound of his name but remained unmoving otherwise. "Fine, I guess I'm only ordering the barbecue rice dinner set for myself tonight."

It was unusual for Mark to not cave at the sound of one of his favourite orders were mentioned. Lee's BBQ was one of Mark's go-to places when he was feeling some savoury with a hint of honey and Lee's always had the best cure for that craving. With a tired huff of your own, you bent over your own body, stretching out your aching muscles and rubbed the soreness out from your shoulders before leaning over Mark with wiggling fingers.

He grimaced at the feeling of your shadow hovering over his body, but not a moment later, a strangle cough mixed with laughter erupted from your boyfriend, filling the room in a cacophony as he started to roll around on the couch. It was a rather futile attempt to escape your dancing fingers, as they raced across various parts of his torso, finding all his weak spots as he writhed.

In between wheezes of your name breathless pleads to stop tickling him, Mark finally caved in, shouting his order amidst falling off the sofa and onto the floor by your feet, gasping for air as he the residual laughter wore off, "P-please, just the usual combo with extra sauce on the side."

You hummed in response, pulling out your phone to call in your orders. Sitting up from the floor, Mark fanned himself, a now brighter smile on his lips as he watched you purse your lips in anticipation.

"Hello, Lee's BBQ are you calling for take-out?"

The familiar sound of Mrs. Lee's voice seemed to finally calm the both of you down, your smile stretching as you hopped on the spot, "Hi, Mrs. Lee, it's [Y/N]! Mark and I will be coming by for our usual? The combo c with extra sauce on the side and the— Yes that's right."

Mark outstretched his arm, pulling you closer to him by your knees as you nodded along as Mrs. Lee confirmed your small order, "Oh and what's the soup of the day?"

Pulling away from the phone you mouthed, "Want the soup?" to which Mark nodded along, whispering a please and thank you as you passed on the order. With your order in the process, you hung up with an ecstatic thank you before plopping onto Mark's lap.

"Foooooood!" Mark hollered happily, hands coming up to squeeze your sides as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Finally, I'm starving."

"Starving for attention too, you lil' baby," you teased, finger poking at his nose blindly in an attempt to irk your boyfriend some more for bothering you with all his needy sighs.

Mark huffed in response, pretending to bite at your finger to deter you, "I wanted cuddles this morning, you left too early. I wanted to eat lunch with you, you ran away back to your desk."

Jerking back from his shoulder, you offered him a pointed look, "I was rushing so I could get done faster."

"I don't care if you finish faster, I much rather spend some time throughout the day with you," Mark pouted, eyebrows crinkling as his lips turned downwards.

With a small flick to his forehead, you chuckled, "Yeah, but I care. I want to be able to enjoy my evenings free from work, otherwise, I'll be working all night."

Your boyfriend pursed his lips before muttering a, you're right, pulling you in for a firm hug and a contented sigh. Toying with the hair at the nape of his neck elicited another sigh, the man physically melting into your touch as he finally got the attention he's been vying for all day.

"We should start heading over to pick up the food," you pointed out, only for Mark to pat your butt softly, head shaking as he silently asked for a few more minutes to lavish in the affection you were giving him.

He's a big baby and I love him 🥺

When he finally does though, Mark is trying to subtly ask you out without using the word date? No one ask why, it just seemed obvious to him that asking someone to hang out one on one seemed pretty "date-ish".

Passed the dating trials and into the relationship, both -imbos out here would have Will's eyes permanently stuck at the back of his head from all the eye-rolling he has to do.

Will thought it was kind of cute and endearing how much PDA the two of you let on at first, mushy babbles, hand-holding, close-proximities etc. but now Will just wants to forcibly walk between the two of you so you two were apart long enough to actively engage in some conversation that included him.

Working off the definition/qualities of your "typical bimbo/himbo" as nicely as I can, I picture the two of you getting into petty little arguments from time to time.

Nothing serious or destructive/toxic, no I mean super petty things like Mark eating the last of your favourite cookies without asking while you were in the bathroom getting ready.

Or Mark getting pouty because "you didn't respond to the note I passed you during class."

Being in a relationship with Himbo!Mark means spontaneous dates well into the late evening, spanning closer to midnight. They were almost always never full of any good ideas.

Mark convinced you to climb over the fence to go skinny-dipping at an outdoor pool once.

On another occasion, the two of you spent almost $200 at an arcade one time because you wanted enough tickets to win the super big bunny plush hanging at the top of the rewards wall.

"Yeah pretty much? I mean like you could touch them but I'm no help here, I'm usually on the receiving end." ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Okay, go for it, go slow, no tongue, maybe touch. Touch? Touch where???

Always carries gum or a container of mints as well as a stick of lip balm because you can never be too prepared.

Also because he read too many horror stories on the subreddit about chapped lips, bad breath and biters

He probably also puckered his lips in the mirror a few times or kissed the back of his hand just to check he's doing it right/looks normal

Starts to worry about consent, "I should ask first, but would that ruin the moment? Will said go for it, but what if they think I'm weird or coming on too fast???"

Not enough mirror practice would help Mark with his anticipation for his first kiss with you. The second date was at the movies since Will was very adamant that going to the movies on the first date was not the best idea. Though Mark wanted to give you a kiss then, he couldn't find a good time that didn't seem to scream pushy so he chalked it up to wait till today.

The two of you were wrapping up your third date of catching the sunset during a picnic on a quaint hill just a little outside the city. You brought your camera and took some photos of Mark basking in the golden hour glow and of the sunset itself.

There were not a lot of people around and the moment seemed ambient enough to instigate a kiss. His hands were getting a little clammy just thinking about it, but you looked so damn good in your outfit today and your hair fluttered so seamlessly in the wind. Not to mention, that orange glow was doing your features a lot of justice, perfectly adding a shadow in the right places of your face.

Your face, the way your lashes sat upon your cheekbones as you closed your eyes towards the setting star. Your lips...

Instinctively, Mark gave a harsh—almost choked—swallow to keep himself from drooling all over his lap at the wondrous sight of you before him. He subtly pulled out a mint while you were occupied with the view of the town below you, popping it into his mouth and quickly slathering on some lip balm. His fingers curled into a fist a few times to test if the clamminess would be too much to touch you with.

Too holed up in his own thoughts about kissing you, Mark was oblivious to you scooting closer to him on the picnic blanket you had brought along. The fabric dipped as you sat closer to Mark, head ducking just enough to peer up at your date.

With a delicate extension of your hand, your warm fingertips lifted Mark's attention from his lap to you, "What's got your mind running?"

His eyes widened at the sight of your own, peering into his soul oh-so-gently with a tinge of worry, your brows creasing in the centre as you tilted your head.

You were much closer than you were a moment ago, and that made him gulp audibly, "I-I was uh..."

A little chortle incited from you as you leaned in just a bit, eyes slit with a teasing glimmer and a smirk that toyed at your lips, "You weren't contemplating a kiss under the setting sun were you?"

Caught in 4K, Mark chuckled nervously, eyes darting off to the side to buy himself some time to free him from this incriminating accusation you had right down to a T, "If I was?"

No you insolent fool, that is not what you wanted to say!

"Then I think we should go for it, I'll give you brownie points for the romantic gesture," you offered him a smooth wink. One that only seemed to have him further engrossed in the idea of your beauty and your intelligence. "Otherwise, just tell me if I'm being too pushy."

This whole time, Mark was worried about being the pushy one, trying to drum up the smoothest way to ease into a kiss without being too straightforward, yet here you were with a bundle of confidence suddenly built up.

Will's voice echoed in the back of his head; just go for it. Start slow, no tongue.

Mark followed your eye movements, the way they flickered between his own and his lips and without another further moment, Mark flashed you his most boyish grin.

"Not at all," he murmured before leaning in to meet you halfway. The short distance elicited a small shiver down his spine that was only soothed when he finally pressed his lips to your own.

The finger you had holding his chin from earlier moved ever so slightly to make room for your thumb, using both to guide him just a centimetre closer, as if you couldn't bear the small gap between the two of you.

Mark shifted his weight so he was comfortably resting against one hand, instinctively placing his free one on the curve of your thigh. The languid movements of your warm lips against one another moved in a synchronized dance, not to any rhythm in particular, just one that matched each others' natural decision.

He could have kept going, he didn't want the kiss to end, but alas, you pulled away for a moment to catch your breath. He felt the warmth emanating from your hands as you brought them up to cup his cheeks, "How utterly romantic, almost feels like you had some practice."

The incessant teasing was back, but Mark was far from annoyed though he found himself unable to contain the flush that tinged his cheeks.

"I could say that same for you," he murmured, trying to hide behind his own hand but you only gave him a shameless laugh in response. You tried to cover your own cackle behind your hand as well, pulling away enough to sober yourself up.

In that very brief moment, Mark started to feel cold from the absence of your hand on his cheek. He caught himself pouting.

Your glossy eyes looked over at your date, with a slight grin, "Having my first kiss definitely beats kissing the back of my hand for practice."

How did I do?

There was the occasional, outlandish combination of foods you wanted to be put together in that very moment, but the other times you were just a little more demanding with what you wanted to eat, how much of it you wanted and when. To be completely fair, you were eating for two...

You were riddled with a sense of looming guilt, but truly this was necessary, "Pst. Mark. Mark. Sweetie, pssst."

Mark was shaken from his slumber, eyes cloudy with sleep as he tried to make sense of his own surroundings. The calling of his name once more caught his attention, "[Y/N]? What's wrong?"

"It's an emergency," you whispered, trying to keep the mood light as not to freak your husband out but Mark was jumping out of bed at lightning speed, arm flailing to find the switch to his bedside lamp, almost knocking it over in the process. "No, not that emergency!"

The tired Mark breathed a sigh of relief but his system was too alert to climb back into bed without double-checking that you were alright. You almost cackled at the way he stood, clothed in a loose t-shirt and his bright blue boxer briefs.

"I'm fine, nothing's wrong," you giggled behind your hand, trying to steel yourself from laughing any harder. "I just really want soup right now."

"Soup," Mark deadpanned, now hunched over with his arms supporting him on the side of the mattress from where he stood. "You woke me up, for soup, at five-thirty in the morning."

Right, it was super late, or super early depending on who was looking at the time but you truly did want soup, and more specifically, the kind that Mark and his mum would make on the colder nights. Your lips started to quiver at the exasperated tone in Mark's words, tears threatening to well at the overwhelming feeling that your husband was right to be mad at you for disturbing his sleep.

"I-I'm sorry, babe. I just really wanted the special tofu soup," you whimpered, now catching Mark's attention to your sullen form on the bed. The duvet bunched at your waist, where your small bump rested as you twiddled your thumbs.

Mark sighed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "It's okay, I'm not mad. I'm not mad, I'll make you soup."

Even if he was tired and had been on the brink of a good dream, you were his priority and he had been preparing himself for this. It's not the first time he's been woken up from his sleep for something, plus, some soup did sound nice all of sudden.

Your face brightened up a little at the reassurance, "Are you sure? I can wait till breakfast."

Your husband shook his head and offered you a hand out of the bed, "It's breakfast somewhere, amirite? You want sundubu jjigae*?"

Once your feet were set in your little house slippers, you beamed up at your husband, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a small peck on the corner of his lips. He offered you a comforting squeeze before guiding you both to the kitchen.

Working with the soft glow of the light above the stove, Mark let you help him prep some of the ingredients for the soup as he started on the base. While you sliced at the soft tofu, he pushed the kimchi* and vegetables around the sesame and gochujang* mixture until everything was cooked. You helped him add the vegetable broth to the small pot and watched the mixture come to a boil with childish glee. Mark gave you a loving pat to the head, followed by a small kiss pressed to your temple.

Once the tofu and the egg were added in, Mark turned off the heat and let the stew simmer down enough to serve. The two of you sat at the dinner table, sipping at the scorching liquid.

"Thank you for making me food," you nattered between spoonfuls of soft tofu and mildly spicy broth.

You were about to take in another spoonful of soup when Mark picked up your free hand and brought your knuckles up to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the skin with a tired smile, "Anything for my two favourite people in the universe."

*hapa is a Hawai'ian term referring to someone who is of partial Asian or Pacific Islander descent.

*sundubu jjigae is a Korean soft tofu stew, usually made up of varying ingredients. The base I personally use includes onions, garlic, kimchi, and sesame oil in a vegetable broth, but there are other ways to personalize it, such as adding pork, beef, seafood, mushrooms etc.

*kimchi is Korean staple side dish, usually made of fermented napa cabbage and/or radishes.

*gochujang is a fermented red chili paste

"You stink, phew," Mark quipped, fanning the air in front of him.

Pausing with your arms crossed, you gave your boyfriend the stink eye as you tried to subtly sniff around you, "I ran two blocks in a full suit to get here in time for dinner, but I don't even smell!"

Mark burst into laughter as he watched you twist about, "I was kidding babe, here."

Your boyfriend stood proud, head turned to you while he remained busy stirring sauce contents in the pan. As you attempted to go in for another kiss, mark remained unmoving, refusing to bend down to meet you halfway as he usually did due to your partial height difference.

With an agitated scowl, you tugged the man down by the chest pocket of his apron, planting a firm kiss on his lips with a little more vigour than he had anticipated. Freeing up his arm, he wrapped it around your torso to pull you inclose before you could escape to give you one more proper welcome back kiss to make up for his playful teasing.

"Alright go wash up, dinner's almost ready," Mark grinned, patting your backside as he gently nudged you out of his messy workspace. "LOVE YOU!"

Rolling your eyes, you headed off to your shared bedroom with a sigh, "Yeah, yeah, love you too."

The second rule of your routine was to make sure mundane things around the apartment were accessible to you. Your height put you at the disadvantage of being able to reach everyday items on your own if Mark placed them too high—something he was very guilty of especially when the two of you first moved in. He was used to putting the cereal box on the shelf that was eye-level to him, which in turn, was not eye-level for you.

After scolding him one too many times, Mark finally turned over the habit of his to adjust to your needs. However, from time to time, he would find something to "misplace" just so he could get a kick out of you asking him for him.

Once you caught on to his new form of teasing you, as the independent adult you were, you started to climb the counters and other relatively safe but unsafe surfaces to get what you needed without asking for some aid. It was... your little version of a protest so as not to satisfy him by relying on him for the stupid jar of pasta sauce, or your hairbrush or even that favourite mug of yours.

"Babe, please don't stand on the toilet lid like that," Mark drawled out with an exasperated sigh as he watched you lunge with one foot on the edge of the counter and the other on the closed toilet seat. "You know our toilet lid isn't solid, what if it breaks and you fall in?"

"Then you're paying for the replacement and you can cater to my every need while I'm in a cast and recovering from the trauma of ice cold toilet water," you chided nonchalantly as you definantly leveraged yourself so you could retrieve the mouthwash that Mark had hidden not in medicine cabinet but on top of.

Just as you were about to mentally pat yourself on the shoulder for your just indepenence, you pushed off the counter with your bottle of mouthwash in your clutch, but the sudden shift in weight to your foot on the toilet lid caused the plastic lid to shift with a hollow sounding crack.

Your boyfriend was on you in an instant, hands firm on your hips with wide eyes as he lifted you above the lid in case it were to crack beneath you, "See! This isn't safe!"

"I wouldn't be in these unsafe situations if you just stopped putting things out of reach of my short arms so I could live like a normal person!"

Mark, still holding you, gasped at your rhetoric, "You could just ask me to help you."

"You could just put things where you find them," you snarked back, angrily taking a swig from the mouthwash bottle. As you swished the blue liquid around, Mark started to laugh at the sight. Your eyes slit in suspicion as you quietly watched your boyfriend tremble with laughter. He shifted his stance so he could hover you over the sink as you discarded the mouth wash. "Could you put me down, I'm not Simba from the Lion King."

As he placed you back on your feet, Mark slung his arms over your shoulder, chin resting on your head as his mind started to wander.

Eye narrowed at your boyfriend through the mirror once more as he mumbled to himself, "What are you scheming this time?"

Your boyfriend snapped his attention from the sink to meet your eyes in the reflection, "You are tiny though... we should dress up as guy and the palm-top tiger from that one anime for Halloween!"

Profusely shaking your head, you rejected the idea, "We will do no such thing that reinforces the idea of my height compared you."

Mark whined in defeat as you nudged him, eyes watching his hand as he absentmindedly goes to move the mouthwash back to the wrong shelf, "MARKUS SEBASTIAN GRAYSON!"

"I'M SORRY IT'S MUSCLE MEMORY!"

The straight and honest words, sugar-free and stoic as usual left Ushijima's lips the moment you opened the door. Not a single hello or unusual utterances. His dark olive bangs draped over his forehead, only a strand or two clung to his skin from his practice with the team.

Peering over your shoulder, your siblings were giggling from behind the door frame of your living room with big round eyes probably whispering about how Ushiwaka almost never comes over, because they were right. He had met your family on a few different occasions and had dinner twice formally but never spent much time at your residency otherwise. He was almost as elusive as your next door neighbour's cat.

Heaving a small sigh, you slipped your bare feet into your loafers and closed the door behind you as you confronted Ushijima on your small doorstep.

"I'm not avoiding you, I'm just taking time to think about things," you whispered to the tall captain, arms wrapping around yourselves as you found interest in your shoes.

Ushijima tilted his head, trying to get a better look at you, "Things... Have I done something to upset you? I sense that it was something I did."

There it was. As stoic and emotionally unmoving as Ushijima Wakatoshi could get, he was not one hundred percent oblivious to those around him or their feelings. Rather it took him longer to receive and understand the words and emotions from others. Oftentimes, if it did not have anything to do with himself nor did it interfere with his daily schedule, he left those matters untouched.

You understood all of this, so why did it seem to bother you so much that Ushijima simply carried out himself the way he normally would even when he was with you?

His matching olive eyes never once left your form, curiosity hid behind his eyes as he waited for you to give him your word. Flickering your eyes between his own and your front door, you pursed your lips, "Ushi, when I confessed to you, did you only agree to go out because you felt like it was the right thing to do or because you actually reciprocated the feelings?"

The captain before you took a second to think, brows furrowing before his face returned to his usual blank expression, "It was the right thing to do because I reciprocated those feelings. I would not have done so otherwise."

Even after days of second-guessing your own boyfriend, stuck in a loop of miserable thoughts and worry that something and someone you cherished would have to be cast aside, you found yourself stifling a chuckle behind the back of your hand. While you were too busy questioning your relationship with him, you had forgotten that Ushijima, arguably the most straightforward person on this planet, had a simple philosophy behind his decision-making.

Your chuckle turned into a loud cackle, only confusing your boyfriend further as he watched on unsure of what to do or say as you tried to catch your breath, "And do you still feel the same way or has that changed for you?"

"It has changed," Ushijima bluntly responded as he placed a hesitant hand on your shoulder to try and help you stifle your reaction. "I am definitely much more fond of you now than I was then."

Your laughing ceased as you sobered up at his words. Eyes searching Ushijima's own for any sign that you were misunderstanding him, but he only blinked expectantly at you, "You love me more now than you used to?"

He nodded, patient as ever with the way you seemed to not take to his honesty. Was it that hard for you to understand? Maybe he wasn't conveying it right. Briefly insecure with how he worded his responses, Ushijima looked at his palms before shaping them into an invisible longitudinal scale, "I had feelings for you... roughly like this. After we started dating, my feelings grew to about this."

You watched in amusement as he widened the distance between palms, his eyes briefly catching yours to ensure you were following his explanation.

Worried you were still uncertain of his truth, Ushijima pointed at his measure, "Does that explain my words better? Is this enough?"

"Is this enough" was not a jab of is this enough love for you. Love was not measured by distance or an unrealistic amount by an invisible scale or some metaphor. Love for Ushijima was measured by frequency.

"Is this enough" was simply Ushijima's own way of conveying his concern that he was lacking in the department of expressions, something he was aware of.

Smiling up at your boyfriend, you placed a hand over each of his own as you came to terms with the root of your own insecure thoughts, that communication was all you needed to do. Ushijima was a strong character on his own, as a captain he is used to giving out orders and instructions to his teammates while also receiving them from his coach. He stood not to be pushed to do something he did not wish to do so his actions and responses merely reflect that, though he is open to suggestions. Especially if they came from important people such as family or yourself.

"If it's not enough, tell me."

"It's just enough, Ushi," you murmured, giving his hands a squeeze. "But sometimes, it would be nice if you showed just a little bit more so I remember."

He remained quiet, thinking of a few ways that he could show you just a little more of his affection. He recalls from movies and shows in passing as well as peers on-campus that holding hands and hugging were often signs of affection. Looking down at the way your smaller hands were latching onto his own, he came to understand that he was previously not giving you enough despite your response.

Squeezing your hands in response, Ushijima flickered his attention as he remembered something, "I... love you, [Y/N]."

Though he sounded hesitant, it was clear in his eyes that he meant every syllable in that small phrase. The adoration remained quietly hidden but from the years spent with Ushijima, you knew.

Leaning on the tip of your toes, you brushed a delicate kiss to his cheek with a grin, "I love you too, Toshi."

As your heels met the surface of your doorsteps once more, you couldn't contain the tempting chance to pinch the spot you left your kiss, surprising the captain as his eyes followed the movement of your hand, "If you're free next week, let's go somewhere for a hike and a picnic?"

Nodding along to his suggestion, you beamed up Ushijima with a suggestion of your own, "Would you like it if we stopped in at your favourite cafe to pick up some snacks?"

This time, it was his turn to nod.

Your wedding was small. Those of your family you invited, his own family and some friends and teammates all filled the seats at your wedding venue. Your now mother-in-law was in tears, almost sending you into your own little giddy sob, but Mark couldn't let that happen. His usual doting behaviour took over, and he did his best to cheer you up and keep you smiling and laughing all through the night. He also had you calling his name a lot after the reception too...

Now marriage with Mark wasn't too far off from your relationship with him before. As expensive as things for weddings could get, Mark was happy before and he would be happy now. Kissing your wedding band or calling you his [wife/husband] now was just the icing on the cake.

If you two hadn't been living together prior to your marriage, you most certainly were going to now. That meant, finding a proper place to call home and buying furniture.

"Mark, we don't need a random turtle decor piece in our house."

"But it would look good on the coffee table!"

"What coffee table Mark? We still haven't gotten to the living room furniture section yet and we've been in this store for an hour!"

Mark grew to love cooking and little domestic moments with you. He did his best to make dinner at least two to three times a week, especially if work was getting busy for you. His dedicated mornings to training now incorporated time to either cook breakfast before you wake up or to make sure you had some sort of lunch to take with you to work.

Feeling more athletic? Cool, he is totally open to you training with him in the mornings, at least ground training.

Other domestic moments included but were not limited to folding fresh laundry with you in the afternoon and chatting away about frivolous matters. A morning rinse or a shower before bed with you was always nice too. Oh, and you almost always had to kill the bugs, whether you liked it or not, because when it came to critters, it was every person for themselves, and unfortunately, Mark had the upper hand of flying states/countries away at the sight of one.

"I'm InVinCiBLe, I sAvE pEoPLe WhEn I cAn aND I fiGht bAD GuYs tWiCe My siZe, aLien Or HumAn, aHoHo."

"You think you're so funny, huh? You screamed too!"

"YOU LEFT ME IN THE BASEMENT AND SONIC BOOMED OUT OF THE BACKYARD TO PARIS!"

"I brought you back some éclairs though..."

"I could have died, Mark."

"BUT YOU DIDN'T AND NOW YOU'RE [WIFE/HUSBAND] OF THE YEAR! I love you, please accept these delicious pastries as my sincerest apologies. Please?"

The two of you would fall into a little routine of finding one day out of the week where schedules allowed, for a movie night, or a spa day. The two of you often travel too (thanks to his abilities) so you can always get the freshest meals catered to your cravings or a new sight to see when things get dry back wherever the two of you decided to settle.

At least once or twice a month, Will, his teammates and your friends would get together for game nights or a potluck. It was almost always endearingly chaotic between the two of you if you played on separate teams. Mark wanted you to win, but he was also super competitive. You as well, especially when you started to throw out bets like the loser has to mow the lawn next or dish duty for the next week.

Mark was absolutely in love with you, no less than before marriage. If anything, just a tad bit more, and he couldn't wait to see what other chaotic moments he would get with you next.

Also, Mark breaks more things than you can count. First, it was a plate, then the week after it was some collectable drinking glass from a thrift store that neither of you really cared for. But then, things you actually cared for/didn't know were possible to break so early on started to well, break.

"Mark, honey. Why is our blender missing a blade?"

"Um well, you see—wow would you look at the time. I have to go meet Cecil for something."

Or that time...

"Babe, where did our shower curtain and the rod go?"

"Look, funny story, you're gonna get a real laugh out of this one..."

But the best one yet:

"MARKUS SEBASTIAN GRAYSON, YOU BETTER GET ME OUT OF THIS HOLE RIGHT NOW, OR SO HELP ME GO-"

"Oh shit, sorry, I meant to tell you about that."

"You meant to tell me there was a hole in our staircase? I sure hope you would! Why is there a hole in our staircase and why did you put a god damn black towel over it??? It blends in with the stairs!"

Oh and that turtle decor he wanted? He ended up buying it the next time he went to the store (without you), and at that point, you couldn't say no or tell him to return it because it did look good on your coffee table, albeit a little quirky. Mark also has and will continue his habit of picking up souvenirs from his trips, even if it's a fossilized rock from outer space or sand in a bottle from an island on Earth you have yet to visit.

I'm prefacing this with a headcanon of my own, unless it's already canon that Mark has had at least one anxiety or panic attack of his own before. Most likely related to being a superhero and his father.

When he saw that you were having one or he could sense that something was obviously wrong and you were probably on the edge of experiencing one, he will hold your hand, firmly applying pressure as he speaks softly at you, asking if you are able to stand so the two of you could exit the crowded room or even just move away to a quieter place so he could remove one pressing factor from the situation.

He'd make sure your bag was with you, otherwise he'll take it for you in case you had any medication on hand.

Once the two of you were in a quieter spot, Mark will continue to firmly hold your hand while asking if there was something you would want him to do.

He'll also make a point to ask if you have any medication/usually took any when you started to panic.

If you ask him for physical comfort, Mark will not hesitate to offer you his jacket or hoodie first, then wrap you in his arms, occasionally squeezing you so you remain present.

Mark gives all his hugs his 100% but when he knows you need it most, he'll put in the 150% you know?

The kind where he starts to rock you gently, will occasionally kiss the top of your head and call you sweet names?

During a panic attack though, he'll speak to you more, ensuring to call you by your name and familiar endearments to keep your attention on him and to take deep breathes along with him.

"Name five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste."

He'll praise you as you start to calm down, he'll tell you that's he's proud you're able to recover your breathing, encouraging you to push through, reminding you that you are in a safe environment and that you're with him.

"What you are feeling is scary, babe, but it's not dangerous. I'm here with you, alright?"

Mark is super attentive, but he knows he also can't be overbearing when you are coming from a sensitive state so he'll offer you juice or ask you if you need anything to drink or how you are feeling.

He'll always ask you to slowly talk him through what your trigger was or if you are able to, describe what the thoughts were so he could reassure you or work through it with you because being trapped in your own thoughts is a shitty thing to experience and he wants to be able to help where he can.

Of course, he respects you when you cannot do all of those things verbally because something one just isn't able to form their thoughts into coherent words and that is okay too.