#i just loved him admitting his feelings to his dad

[ilikelookingatthings]

ahhhhhh! That last panel just wrecked me. Ford's going to feel the guilt with his whole ass chest. The TEARS. The more safe stan feels the more on edge he will feel thinking it will break because his trust was broken before...when he never thought his dad would kick him out or that ford would close the curtain...he has worried abd been nervious but deep down he had trusted them.

Even if he felt like ge messed up and hurt fird with the project and feels guilt over it...I like how Stan knows its unfair he feels like he is waiting for the next shoe to drop...like he will always be making it up to ford chz ge won't know if he is fully forgiven...abd even then what about the next mistake he makes?

I like how ford is worried and alarmed because stan can be good at hiding how affected he is....just damn....ford trying to sooth stan but a bkt slow to it cuz Stan isn't fully listening due to the panic abd due to ford's surprise since Ford feels guilt about ruining stan's life iver a mistake and he's surprised stan still feels like he ruined ford's life even as stan is trying to get across his own hurt.

Just for Stan to admit ge'd rather Ford throws him out now before he starts feeling safe or has hope because stsn KNOWS how much it hurts. To have the rug yanked out from under you. Stan wants to feel safe in the unconditional security that Ford loves him and won't just lock him out or give up on him or throw him away....but that's hard when Ford doesn't tell him enough and when Stan himself still feels like he has to earn his place and his trust had been broken before. Heck stsn probably feels like he hasn't even proven his dad wrong yet or earned millions which was the random goal post filbrick threw at him for tan to come back.

Something exaggerated that Filbrick said in the heat of the moment of stubborn anger that Ford hadn't disputed. And stan was called a burden or leech to Ford....so as much as Stan wants to be happy being around Ford and helping.....last time he thoight he could exist with Ford was the boat dream....I wonder if that's why just helping around the house doesn't put Stan at ease. Cuz Stan doesn't know if he WASNT useful that Ford would want him to stick around anyway. Just AHHHHH the TEARS! I feel like Ford's face feels like it doesn't quite match that Ford was listening and getting more distressed seeing Stan lose it in the panel before the tears but it doesn't matter when the panel of Stan crying will haunt my and ford's angst dreams!

*bats eyes at you* OwO

[blue-jisungs]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ BLUEY & BREAKFAST 🧸ྀི — husband girl dad doyo:( soft morning:( ( wc 1455 )

[ extras ] reader is breastfeeding but nothing crazy (although doyo has a ‘a man is a man’ moment IJBOL)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! i had to take a small break from my event and write this bc girl dad doyo wouldn’t leave my mind and yall need to know it too! besides posting this for @yudaies !!! hopefully it’ll cheer you up babes <3

@kstrucknet ♡

you gradually grew awake, remains of sleep fading away. not brave enough to open your eyes yet, you reach out to grab doyoung’s hand in the seek of more warmth. 

but you don’t meet his hand nor… him. your hand stumbled upon something soft, tender; a peach fuzz alike feeling underneath your fingertips. you frowned and traced the texture, smooth and soft. 

you opened your eyes and lying next to you, on doyoung’s spot, was your daughter. 

you grinned sleepily. she was six months old so your husband probably carried her here. it warmed your heart to see that he also put a blanket over her (and you). probably on his way out to work, too.

she recently started teething so last night was full of crying, from both sides. doyoung was asleep since he had to leave early. 

you traced miyoung’s rosy cheek and then rubbed your eye. you would love to get more sleep. actually, maybe you could… 

a soft babble cut in just in time. miyoung’s big brown eyes opened slowly and started making small sounds. 

“matching our sleep schedules now, are we?” you whispered amused. your daughter stared at you, waving her hands “let’s get up, hm?” 

you stretched, allowing the duvet to fall from your body. then, you grabbed miyoung in your arms and while rocking her gently, you went to wash your teeth first and then to the kitchen. 

just when you were about to come out of the corridor to enter the room, you heard a noise. 

your heart skipped a beat in your chest, halting your movements and listening in. there were faint clanking noises coming from the kitchen. 

but you’re home alone…? 

you leaned out of the wall to peek and let out a sigh upon noticing a similar silhouette. not to say that you weren’t surprised, though. 

“am i doing it wrong? why isn’t it… growing…” 

you smiled and walked in, quietly observing the situation unfolding in front of you. miyoung was toying with the material of your shirt quietly. 

“no, something is definitely not right” 

he was watching something on the pan, leaning on his left hand and tapping the counter in deep thought. 

“i added more milk!” 

doyoung slightly turned yet didn’t see you. he was focused on kyungmi who was sitting on the counter and toying with the milk bottle. you saw him break into a huge smile, hands going to caress your older daughter’s cheeks.

“i like milk” she hummed and looked up at him with a grin. her eyes shifted away and widened upon seeing you “yikes, mommy’s up!” 

doyoung whipped his head around, gaze softening.

“yikes…?” you repeated amused, finally coming to approach them. 

“i think having sakuya and ryo over the other day was a bad idea” doyoung admitted and giggled. you noticed that he’s still in his pyjamas with hair disheveled. it was 10am, he should be at work… “morning, baby” doyoung whispered and shortly after you felt his soft lips brush against yours. the taste of coffee lingered on them and you sighed dreamily. 

miyoung babbled and yanked the hem of doyoung’s shirt, making his nose bump into yours. you giggled into the kiss, and so did he. 

“we are making breakfast!” kyungmi, your lovely 5 year old, cheered. doyoung gasped and turned around, suddenly remembering about the pancakes on the pan. 

“big mi decided to add extra milk though so…” he chuckled and flipped them “no wonder they were so runny and took so long”

“run?” she asked, chuckling. you leaned and pressed a kiss onto her forehead “pancakes run?” 

you just smiled and sat down, caressing miyoung’s dark hair. she’ll probably be hungry soon too, especially after a whole night of crying. 

“how come you’re not at work?” you asked, staring at your husband’s back. a sight so simple, yet heartwarming. 

“i felt bad whenever you kept waking up to get little mi. so just when i was about to leave and this rascal started crying again, i just… i knew you’d be tired. didn’t want to dump it all on you” doyoung said softly. you caught kyungmi chuckling at the word ‘dump’ and you just scoffed. “i called in and said my girls are sick. also, like, come on. i’m thirty, been in the company longer than some of the youngsters have been alive. they get it” 

“thank you” you hummed, a warm feeling spilling all over your heart. whether it was gratitude or simple love, you weren’t sure. 

you chatted while doyoung finished making the rest of the pancakes. with the help of kyungmi  served beautifully decorated breakfast. strawberries and other fruits, whipped cream, even some nutella to pick from. the steaming food made you salivate, not to mention the luring smell of coffee. your stomach growled suddenly, kyungmi laughing. 

“mom!” 

you just shook your head and heard a small whine from your youngest. 

“you’re hungry too, huh?” you asked softly and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. doyoung sent you a worried look. you shook your head and shot him a reassuring smile “don’t worry. eat. you worked hard” 

“mom, can i put some strawberries for you?” big mi asked with sparkles of joy in her brown, doe eyes. 

“of course, sweetheart” you grinned and adjusted your position so you could breastfeed miyoung. 

“dad, can you help me with this?” she asked and tugged doyoung’s sleeve. he shuffled her hair and grabbed whipped cream. 

he gently followed kyungmi’s instructions and drew something. when he was done, she mumbled a focused ‘thank you’ and started putting some strawberries on your pancake. 

you decided to snack on one, stealing it from doyoung’s plate. he just rolled his eyes dramatically, diving back into his food. 

“ta-da!” she hummed and turned the plate to you. it was, you assumed, a smiley face. proud kyungmi puffed her chest out and expectedly mirrored your reaction. 

“it’s so cute! thank you, baby” you blew her a kiss “i’ll eat it in a second” 

“mkay. can i go watch bluey?” she asked, a small pout on her lips. you were rather hesitant to start her day with screen time but… 

“go. we’ll join you in a moment, once little mi’s tummy is full too” doyoung smiled and booped kyungmi’s nose. she ran off with her plate, chuckling “don’t make a mess!”

“i won’t!” 

soon enough the sound of the cartoon sounded from the living room. you just send doyoung a confused look. 

he changed his seats to sit next to you, grabbing your plate. your husband took a picture of it and then started to chop off a small bite for you. 

“here comes airplane” doyoung teased and made a swirling motion with the fork. you laughed, the motion drawing a displeased groan from miyoung.

“you’re unbelievable” was all you could murmur before opening your mouth. doyoung put a hand under the fork, in case something would fall.

(not like it happened before, surely. once during dinner an olive fell on miyoung’s head. she was as confused as you, with doyoung and kyungmi almost falling out of their chairs from laughter). 

you hummed happily, the taste delicious on your tongue. doyoung continued to feed you, taking a bite once or twice as well. 

miyoung was satisfied and leaned away, babbling. you caught your husband’s eyes trailing off and you just covered yourself, smacking his arm. 

“sorry. can’t help it when every part of my wife’s body is beautiful” he grinned sheepishly and leaned in to seal his words with a passionate kiss. 

of course you had your doubts after birth. both with kyungmi and miyoung. but your husband was more supportive than ever, reassuring you at any given chance. it got to a point where you just started laughing at his dramatic praise but he literally had a serious look in his eye each time. 

his knee pressing slightly against you, his lips on yours and tongues dancing together… for a moment you let yourself get lost in the moment. 

dizzying pleasure made you sigh softly, tilting your head a bit. that’s when doyoung suddenly stood up, scooping miyoung out of your arms. 

you looked at him, flabbergasted (and a little bit disappointed). 

“i know i’m charming but let me take care of her. do you want to nap?” he asked. 

“doyo” you sighed, serious. he frowned, rocking his daughter gently “be for real right now”

“what? aren’t you sleepy after a sleepless night?” he asked, genuinely surprised. you stood up, flicking his forehead. 

“you kiss me like that and expect me to get sleepy? you’re lucky i love you” you giggled and he just sent you a boyish smile. “i’m fine. let’s go watch bluey”

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

girl dads!

ft; reo, barou (bllk), osamu (hq!!!), sanji (op), kurapika (hxh)

girl dad!reo, who is always giving his beloved little princess anything she wants. does she want to have pasta for dinner tonight? say no more, he's calling the most authentic restaurant from italy to ship their most delicious and high quality dish at the fastest that they can. does she want to go to an amusement park? of course, he'll rent out the largest amusement park in tokyo, and he'll even buy it if she especially enjoys it. you're always scolding him, saying that he's coddling her too much, but reo just laughs it off every damn time. after all, how is he supposed to deny his lovely baby daughter, who resembles her beautiful mother so much? both of you are his pride and joy, after all.

girl dad!barou, who is both the breadwinner and the housewife of the family. he can't believe it; it's like taking care of his younger sisters and pregnant mother all over again. both of his daughters cling to him every day, and barou eventually begrudgingly accepts his fate. reading them stories every night, cooking for them, teaching them how to do their homework, teaching them how to clean, cleaning for them, taking them out shopping, feeding them, and attempting to talk to them as gently as he possibly can. he admits that he might be just a little bit protective of them, especially considering how many veins pop out whenever he sees them at elementary school, being a little too close with a little boy nearby.

girl dad!osamu, who is already teaching his little girl how to make the best onigiri. at age 4, she already seems to be an incredible fit to take over onigiri miya when you and osamu are both going to retire in decades. every night, no matter how grueling business was that day, osamu always makes sure to spend time with his daughter, whether it's feeding her or reading her a story or telling her about a new recipe of his. when she has a nightmare, she climbs into your and osamu's bed on osamu's side, clinging to him in her sleep. whenever she gets a good score, she always shows osamu first. you're definitely a little jealous, but you can't help but feel warm and happy at the same time.

girl dad!sanji, who would never dare raise his voice or hand against his sweet daughter. he truly adores her more than anything else--aside from you, his beloved wife, of. always hoisting his daughter's small, chubby body over his shoulders while teaching her how to cook, always showing her different moves for her to defend herself against creeps, always refusing to smoke around her to protect “her precious lungs” (quoted directly from sanji), always clashing with zoro whenever he says something even slightly harsh to sanji's daughter, always protecting her from everyone and everything. you say that he pampers her too much, but he just grins and tells you that it's fine.

girl dad!kurapika, who refuses to believe that his daughter could ever do any wrong. his arms are crossed at the principal's office, his small daughter seated next to him. apparently, she had punched a kid for making fun of her; kurapika thinks it's ridiculous. if the kid didn't want a consequence, then he shouldn't have made fun of her in the first place. kurapika is a busy man, running the nostrade family's mafia, he doesn't have time for some idiotic fools who only look at things one-sidedly, especially on a side against his daughter. he snappily tells the principal some snappy remarks before taking his daughter's hand and leaving, telling her that she did nothing wrong and that the school is just stupid.

a/n: i wanted to include kurama from yu yu hakusho so bad, but like no one knows yu yu hakusho these days😢

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

SUNRISE BABY

trans ftm!sebastian vettel x male!reader

request: full fic of a seahorse dad reader or driver??? - @spoonfulofmilo + hii !! i was just wondering if you could do more of seahorse dad seb 🙏

summary: you and your husband spend a quiet morning together.

warnings: seahorse dad!seb (obviously), playful banter, protective!seb, seb and reader are dorks (affectionate), one little joke about seb having cheated on reader but it is very obviously a joke and not real

word count: 591

the soft silence of early mornings in switzerland were everything to you and sebastian. 

it wasn’t that your days were over-the-top, but with a four year old, a two year old, and another on the way, the two of you relished in any alone time you could get. even just sitting on the porch and watching the sunrise seemed perfect with each other. 

“coming to the tail end of this, huh?” you murmured, standing behind seb with one hand wrapped around him to rest on his bump. “you feel ready to have another one running around yet?”

seb smiled. he leaned back against your chest and rested his hand over yours. he took a sip of his tea and sighed. “definitely ready to be able to see my toes again … not sure how ready i am for the crying, but i know it’ll be worth it.”

“it will,” you agreed.

a light kiss pressed against your husband’s temple was extent of the interaction for the next few minutes. that was the wonderful thing about your relationship. you didn’t need to speak to be able to feel like you had spent quality time together. you didn’t even really need to interact. just standing like this, watching the sunrise and listening to the birds chirping fill the otherwise silent morning was enough. 

“you think this one will let us sleep a little more?”

seb laughed, swatting your arm gently and turning his head to give you a disapproving look—only slightly discredited by the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you leave my babies alone, they tried their best.”

“your babies?” you teased. your lips pressed light kisses down sebastian’s face before you reached his lips. “i thought they were our babies, seb? or is there something you need to tell me?”

“i’m so sorry …” he replied solemnly, obviously just playing into the joke. “i didn’t want you to find out like this …”

an amused huff left your lips as your hands dropped to the rub your husband’s baby bump. “you hear that, bean? papa’s being mean to me.”

“i am not!” seb protested lightheartedly while slapping your hands away from his belly. 

“then what are you doing?”

“protecting my babies,” seb argued with his signature cheeky grin. “it’s your fault for insinuating that the girls were bad babies.”

you scoffed playfully, spinning him so he was facing you. “that is not what i said! they were beautiful babies, i’m just hoping this one is a … quieter beautiful. or are you telling me you enjoyed the screaming?”

seb hesitated.

“no …” he admitted begrudgingly, a small smile on his face. “you’re still on diaper duty.”

“you know eventually you’re gonna have to change a diaper, right?”

“four years, two kids, and you’re still putting up with it. are you sure i will?”

you laughed. it never failed to amuse you that seb knew exactly how whipped you were for him. “yeah, yeah, so i love you or whatever.”

“or whatever?” he gasped dramatically, poking your cheek with an exaggerated pout. “excuse me, sir, but that is not an acceptable addendum to saying you love me.”

“oh, forgive me, i meant to say i love you, i adore you, light of my life, my one true love, the only man to ever exist in my eyes,” you replied, just as dramatically. “better?”

“better,” seb agreed, leaning forward to kiss you.

if you got to spend every morning with him like this, you were sure you’d die a happy man. 

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: seahorse dad!seb i adore you. anyway, thought this was cute, hope you guys like it <3 (hopefully this doesn't flop like my last written fic lol)

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Worthy

Marshall had asked for space.

After getting sober, after finally pulling himself out of the haze he had been living in for too long, he told you he needed time—to figure himself out, to prove to himself that he could be the man you and the girls deserved.

You hadn’t fought him on it. Not because you wanted to be apart, but because you understood. You loved him too much to stand in the way of his healing.

So, instead of leaving completely, he just moved down the hall. You told the girls it was just so he could focus, and they accepted it without question. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked.

Until now.

Marshall had seen you getting ready to go out. He hadn’t meant to—he had just walked past your bedroom, but the door was cracked open just enough for him to see you standing in front of the mirror, fixing your hair, wearing that dress he knew wasn’t for a casual night out.

And suddenly, the air in his lungs felt too thin.

He hadn’t thought about this part. Hadn’t thought about what it would feel like to watch you move on while he was still trying to put himself back together.

So he withdrew. He got quiet, distant, spending more time in the studio, giving you even more space. He figured if he ignored it, the feeling would pass.

But the girls noticed.

“Mom, did you and Dad have a fight?” Hailie asked one night at dinner, her brow furrowed as she pushed her food around her plate.

You blinked. “What? No, of course not.”

“Well, he’s acting weird,” Alaina chimed in. “Like, extra weird.”

You sighed. Dammit, Marshall.

That night, you knocked on his door. He didn’t answer, but you knew he was in there, so you pushed it open anyway.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it had personally offended him.

You crossed your arms. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Marshall exhaled sharply through his nose. “Nothin’.”

“Bullshit.”

His jaw clenched. He didn’t speak.

You sighed, stepping closer. “The girls noticed. They think we fought.”

That made him flinch, just a little.

You softened, crouching down in front of him. “Marshall. Talk to me.”

He swallowed hard, then finally, finally looked at you. “I saw you.”

You frowned. “Saw me what?”

“Getting ready,” he muttered, his voice tight. “For your… date.”

Your lips parted slightly. “Marshall—”

“I know,” he cut in quickly, shaking his head. “I know. I wanted this, right? I said I needed space, that I had to fix myself before I could fix us.” He let out a humorless laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just… I didn’t think about what it’d feel like to see you movin’ on.”

You let out a slow breath. “So what? You get to be upset about it now? You asked for this, Marshall.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, something raw and desperate in them. “No. I didn’t ask to lose you,” he murmured. “I just… I needed to know I was a better man. Worthy of you.”

Your chest tightened, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice.

You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Marshall,” you whispered. “You were always worthy of me.”

His grip tightened around yours like he was afraid to let go.

And just like that, the space between you didn’t seem so wide anymore.

The silence between you stretched, heavy with everything left unsaid. Your fingers were still wrapped around his, grounding him, reminding him that you were here. That maybe—just maybe—you hadn’t given up on him yet.

Marshall swallowed hard, his free hand running over his face. “I don’t even know what I’m doin’ anymore,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “I thought I was doin’ the right thing. Thought if I stepped back, got my shit together, I’d come out of it a better man. But all I did was push you away.”

You exhaled, squeezing his hand gently. “I get why you needed space, Marshall. I really do. But you never stopped to ask if I needed you too.”

His head snapped up, blue eyes locking onto yours. Shit. He hadn’t thought about it like that. He had been so focused on fixing himself, on proving something to himself, that he never once considered how it felt for you to be left in limbo, waiting for him to decide when—if—he was ready.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he murmured.

You gave him a sad smile. “I know.”

Another beat of silence.

Marshall cleared his throat, shifting slightly. “Was it a date?” he asked hesitantly.

You arched a brow. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Just… need to know.”

You sighed. “No. It wasn’t. It was just dinner with a friend.”

Relief flickered over his face so fast you almost missed it. “Oh.”

You tilted your head at him, something teasing in your tone. “Would it have mattered if it was?”

His jaw tensed. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice low. “It would’ve.”

Your heart ached at the honesty in his words, at the way he looked at you—like he was so close to breaking but too damn stubborn to let himself.

You shifted, sitting beside him on the bed, your knee brushing against his. “So what now?” you asked softly.

Marshall exhaled slowly, staring at the floor. “I don’t know. But I know I don’t wanna do this anymore. Don’t wanna be down the hall, watchin’ you from a distance like we’re strangers.” He finally turned his head, meeting your gaze. “I wanna come home. If you’ll have me.”

Your breath caught.

For months, you had been waiting. Waiting for him to figure it out, waiting for him to decide if he still wanted this. Wanted you. And now, here he was—finally here.

You reached out, cupping his cheek, brushing your thumb over the faint stubble there. He leaned into your touch, his eyes slipping shut like he had been starving for it.

“I never wanted you to leave in the first place,” you whispered.

Marshall’s eyes fluttered open, searching yours. “I don’t deserve you.”

You huffed out a soft laugh. “That’s not your decision to make.”

A slow, hesitant smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “No?”

“No,” you murmured, leaning in, resting your forehead against his. “You already promised me forever, Marshall. Now, you just have to keep it.”

His breath hitched, and before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours—desperate, aching, like he was trying to make up for every second he had wasted.

And maybe, just maybe, you were finally finding your way back to each other.

[paperstorm]

Thanks for the tags @rangersoup @strandnreyes @thisbuildinghasfeelings @nisbanisba @henrygrass @annoyingcloudearthquake!

From Somewhere in a Song, chapter posting tomorrow :)

“What’s going on?” he asks.

To Nancy, Paul asks, “Do you wanna tell him?”

“Like he’s my dad and I’m in trouble?” Nancy rolls her eyes and turns to TK. She takes a breath before she says, “Mateo and I have been … hanging out.”

TK raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“The kind of hanging out that doesn’t tend to include wearing pants,” Marjan clarifies, taking a sip from a water bottle and flopping back onto Nancy’s bed where she must have been lounging before, if the rumpled sheets are any indication. She picks up her phone and swipes her thumb over it.

TK’s mouth falls open. “What?”

Nancy just shrugs. “He’s cute. And very … eager.”

Snickering, Marjan says, “Well that paints a picture.”

“Forget eager, that kid is head-over-heels for you,” Paul tells her, in a tone that makes it sound like an accusation.

“Who, me?” Nancy giggles, tossing her hair.

“I’m serious, Nance. He’s all heart eyes and shit.”

“So?”

“So you better not break his heart, that’s what. We’ve got a really good thing going, here, with our two bands. It’s all sympatico. If you fuck him up, it’ll be weird and awkward for everyone, and we’ve still got half a tour left.”

TK swallows. In slow-motion, his hands get cold and he curls them into loose fists against his thighs.

“Who says I’m going to fuck him up?”

“I’m not saying you’re going to. I’m saying please try not to.”

Rolling her eyes again, Nancy repeats what she’d been saying before TK knocked on the door. “It’s not a big deal. Okay? We’re hooking up, not planning a wedding.”

TK misses Paul’s answer, because his stomach is churning a little bit and he has to stifle a laugh as it occurs to him that of the eight musicians on this tour, six of them are now having sex with each other. If Paul and Marjan wanted to get together they could tie it all off with a bow like a cheesy romantic comedy where everyone gets a happy ending.

Only this ending doesn’t feel happy. It all seems so unstable that TK feels more or less like he’s strapping on wax wings and hoping a story older than time will end differently for him.

“Alright, I’m hitting the pool,” Marjan says. “Even with the AC, it’s swampy in here.”

“Me too,” Paul agrees.

“Should I text Mateo?” Nancy asks, grinning cheekily at Paul.

“They’re out sight-seeing, I ran into him earlier,” TK interjects, before Paul can answer. It isn’t a lie. TK just lets an ambiguous him float in the air and doesn’t clarify he means Carlos, and not Mateo. “We haven’t hung out just the four of us in a bit, it’ll be fun.”

“Okay,” Nancy shrugs, putting her phone back into her pocket and standing. She stretches her arms up over her head, her tight t-shirt riding up over his stomach. “He probably wouldn’t be able to act right around me in a bikini anyway.”

Paul snorts and stands as well. Nancy shoves him playfully, but then throws an arm around him and walks with him toward the door. Marjan follows them, giving TK another smile. He can’t seem to move from the top of the dresser. His pulse is elevated and his hands still feel clammy as the door shuts behind Marjan and Paul and Nancy looks back at him.

She’s smiling just for a moment but then her face falls, and in a quiet voice she tells him, “I promise I won’t fuck things up.”

TK blinks, the pit in his stomach deepening. “You – no, Nancy, I don’t think that.”

Nancy presses her lips together. “Maybe Paul’s right, we do have something awesome here and I don’t want to jeopardize – ”

“Nance,” TK interrupts.

He hops down and steps toward her, wrapping his arms around her. She hugs him back tightly and fondness swells in TK’s chest. He loves all of his friends in different ways and for different reasons, and his favorite thing about Nancy is the way they can be themselves around each other, which makes it feel like even more of a betrayal that he has no intention of admitting to his own very similar secret. He could make her feel better with just a few little words – I’ve been hooking up with Carlos – but instead he hangs her out to dry.

Pulling back and trying to smile up at her, TK says, “I’m happy for you. Mateo seems really great.”

Tagging @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlos-in-glasses

@bonheur-cafe @actual-sleeping-beauty @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo

@goodways @lightningboltreader @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21

@reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript

@lemonlyman-dotcom @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce @hereghostslive

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

@butchreyes @anactualcaseofthetruth @ditheringmind @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh

@irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89 @nancys-braids

@carlossreaders @denizoid @everlastingday @rangersoup

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[daisy-01-blog]

Busy woman! (Boss!Gojo x co-worker! fem! reader) 

SMUT 

MINORS DNI 

A/N: Happy Valentine lovelies! stream busy woman by Sabrina Carpenter!

It's valentine's day and you're thinking of killing yourself. Everyone seem so happy and you're just so fucking miserable. You recently ended things with your one year boyfriend.

You noticed how life has been too good for you these months, should’ve known something like this is going to happen. 

You got a promotion on your job!, and your boyfriend bought you a car as a present! life’s perfect. 

Too perfect. 

Turns out he bought it for you since he’s feeling guilty, because he’s been cheating on you. It has been a year, does it mean nothing to him? 

You sold all his presents (except for the car), and on some days you just cried from the hurt. 

Now it’s Valentine’s day, and you feel sick seeing all these people. 

They’re going to break up one day! Does it not matter? your heart clenched as you went to your office. This is so stupid.

*** 

“(Y/N), the boss is calling for you in his office” your co-worker told you. 

You frown, did you mess up your report again? you scoff as you went inside his office. 

Gojo Satoru is your boss, just your usual nepotism baby who got this company from his dad. You wouldn’t admit it, but he actually manages this company pretty well. 

You’re not close with him, just like the other co-worker isn’t close with him

“I need a favor” he said to you 

“And that is?” you asked him 

"Go out with me" Gojo said

"What?"

"Fake" he clarifies "be my fake date"

You frowned “is this some kind of joke?” you muttered. Why did he need a fake-date for? 

“It’s Valentine’s day” he mutters “and my family has been begging me to bring a girlfriend with me on family dinner today” 

“So?” you said “can’t you say no or something?” 

He sighed “he’ll mutate me to another company of his if I didn’t bring anyone” 

“What!” you said 

He huffs “I already like this place” he mutters “I’m already familiar with the people too, there’s no way I’ll leave” he said. 

You nodded “fine, just for a week right?” 

He grins “if that’s the case, let’s practice” 

You blink “practice what?”

*** 

A few minutes later, he’s kissing your lips and you-you didn’t know why you didn’t push him off. You guys are literally still in his office. 

He tastes like peppermint and he smells sultry, your head feels dizzy. 

“Mmmh…” he pants as his tongue entangles with yours. 

He has always wanted to do this with you, and you taste so sweet. 

After a while you guys let go, he grins seeing your flushed appearance. 

“One more time” he said and you nodded. 

***

The family dinner was actually pleasant, his parents are very nice. There’s lots of food and they offer it to you non-stop. 

It would’ve been perfect if Gojo wasn't stroking your thighs behind the table. 

You gasped as he fingers you while you guys are on the family's table. You bit your lips as you hold your moan. 

“Is everything okay?” his mom asked as you nodded, biting your lips. 

“Yes…just feel a bit lightheaded, I just recovered from my fever” you lied. 

They nodded and told you to take it easy. 

You bite your lips as his fingers play with your pussy, and he has the audacity to keep on eating. 

His fingers rub your clit as you hear him chuckle quietly “so wet” he whispers and you squirm in pleasure. 

The lewd wet noises make you feel embarrassed as you bit your lips, shuddering in pleasure. 

As he finds your g-spot, you splurt. 

He grins “enjoying the food?” and you glare at him. 

*** After the family dinner, he brings you to an amusement park-he wins you a big teddy and you guys have so much fun. 

But you-you can’t do this. 

You’ve fallen for Gojo again. 

You’ve always liked him, but give up since he’s literally your boss. 

But now, this felt too real. But you’re scared, he’s just joking-this isn’t even real dating. You felt sick. 

"I think we can't do this anymore" you said

“What?” he paused, you guys are eating cotton candy

“This is inappropriate” you said to him

"But it has only been like a day!" he said

"Happy Valentine, Gojo" 

*** 

It’s the next day, and he calls you to his office-and you have no choice but to go there. 

“There’s something I need to say” he said “I like you” 

You avoid his gaze “I know” 

“You know? then why did you-”

“I’m scared” you sigh “and this isn’t the best occasion, you’re my boss” you mutter. 

“I’m scared it will just be messed up again” 

He holds your hand “I want us to try” he said softly. 

“Okay” 

*** 

His desk creaked as he plows your pussy roughly, you hold your moan as his cock plows your gummy walls. 

“Fuck” he whines “always wanna try your pussy, baby” he said lewdly as his cock makes out with your pussy “you look-ah” he shudders “so good on your-mmm, skirt” he moans. 

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, hips shaking in delight. 

“I love you” he groans, plowing you even harder “and your pussy too” he slaps your ass “I will never let you go” 

The desk creaked as the lewd wet noises filled his office. 

“Be quiet darling” he pants, fucking your pussy “tell your pussy to be quiet, what if people hear?” he moans. 

Your pussy tightens and he grins at that. 

“Slut” he grunts as he slaps your ass “turns you on when people see you huh?” he grunts as he plows your pussy to his shape. 

“Nooo” you whine in pleasure, shaking. 

“You’re mine” he shudders “fuck, here comes the load” 

You both moan as he spews jets of cum inside you. 

He grins “this is just the start” 

You chuckle. 

This is what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

[riza-jes]

Thought of Luffy who is THAT ONE who keeps close to his heart hate against his blood related relatives.( or Luffy kind of taking ace’s attitude)

In that case I mean Garp and Dragon.

It also happens in the older brother Luffy AU.

Why I start it, it because I fought myself of analyses over Garp and Dragon’s “for good sake”, “for greater good” for those men who incredible selfless.

Especially in compare with Luffy.

And I kind of wanna see how Luffy being more mature (if I may say that) and had some time to think of Dragon’s and Garp’s actions and priorities.

Where each of them chose something else but not ‘him’ their son and grandson, who chose to fight for others but not him.

And being raised with that understanding, and having meet with Shanks and pirate stuff, after what rll not so loved damngramps who take him away from one particularly important and close to him person and dropped him off at the Mountain bandits place(and accident with another one was fresh, and Garp again spited it out his nonsense of becoming Marine, so yep, Luffy’s furious is underrated )

But.. there some… new part, unexpected.

A boy, with freckles, smaller than Luffy and who looked completely shocked.

And there is another part.

Garp declared that “This kid, Ace, is your younger brother, Luffy”.

And Luffy flinched.

And Ace’s face brokenhearted bc he’d noticed that.

But Luffy also almost… imprinted (that could be the most close for correct meaning word) in this little boy…

No.

Ace.

His younger brother

And selfish, eager for closeness, for tenderness and comfort, for someone, that he’s not left alone Luffy find the soulmate in that boy.

It’s just… his eyes.

And his interest that Luffy shares, so…

For the first time in the while Luffy was grateful to Gramps.

And after knowing, getting closer and more comfortable with each other, with getting more understanding for having baby brother Luffy’s admits that was the best of bestes moments in his life.(in the moment Luffy for short time open his heart to grandpa, until old man once came and destroyed any chance to get along with grandkid)

But his little heaven should be ruin by Gramps.

In one day, he had the Talk with Ace.

Some bullshit of his parentage.

Garp told him of that too.

Luffy less care of it, bc couldn’t take off his eyes from shattered Ace,who’s still sits on the same place palm with incredible absolutely scary impression on face.

Garp didn’t stop he told him of story of Gol D Roger,who was absolute Devil against people and World Government, the same Government that his dad told him enslaves people and destroys islands in one day, Garp who kept talking of Ace’s dangerous position and what his existence is costs for people.

Luffy suddenly rushed and hugged in tight arms and scream loud and clear:

‘Get out!’

Ace starts tearing apart.

‘ENOUGH THAT BULLSHIT ABOUT ACE’

Luffy feels how his shirt becames wet.

‘GET OUT! ITS DOESNT MATTER! THE WORLD COULD SHUT AND FUCKED UP.I DONT CARE!’

Quite cry starts from Ace’s side, his little hand grab older brother’s back.

‘GET OUT!’

Garp went away with difficult expression.

(Bandits and beasts all suddenly lost conscious)

I wan Luffy with angry glaze and dirty mouth, with hate against blood related people who left him.

And he’s being overprotective big bro ass.

Who really definitely will that brother who will spark and bright when you ask him one question of his lot brother.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Jaylin, Jaylin, Jaylin, my gal, sincerely wtf is your dealllll???

⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️⛰️

-💋

I promise I WILL get there.

148 or 1k for ⛰️:

---

Like she’s going to come take something from him personally. Not just Buck. 

Maybe that’s the biggest indicator. He starts to feel like Arthur is his. His baby. His son. Even if those thoughts are kept deep, deep inside. 

One night, Arthur wakes them up around two in the morning. The kind of cry that Eddie now knows means he’s wet himself and is uncomfortable. He never knew any of Christopher’s cries apart. He’d never been around for a long enough time to distinguish them. 

Buck starts to get out of bed. He emits a little sigh that betrays how tired he is. He’s exhausted. They had a long shift that day. Buck took the brunt of the physical labor during the rescue.

“Let me get him,” Eddie says. 

“It’s okay,” Buck argues. “I can.”

He can. He does. Most of the time. In fact, it’s sort of hard for Eddie to get Buck to let him do any of the less pleasant parts of raising a baby. Like he’s afraid allowing Eddie to do more than the cute, sweet parts is a burden Eddie doesn’t want. But that’s not true. He wants all of it. And not just because of Buck, anymore. 

“You’re tired and sore,” Eddie whispers, leaning across the bed to pull him back and kiss his temple. “I’ve got him.” 

Buck sighs. “Don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“I know,” Eddie says. “I want to. You know I love him, right?”

Buck takes a deep breath.

“I know.”

“Then let me go do the dad thing, okay? You sleep.”

Buck relents. Eddie climbs out of bed and makes his way towards Arthur’s bedroom. 

“Hi, Artie,” he says softly, lifting him out of the crib. “Hi, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He changes Arthur, gets him all buttoned back up in his pajamas, and begins to put him back into the crib. But then pauses. He brings the baby back up and holds him to his chest for a moment. Tilts his head so he can inhale that weirdly perfect baby head scent. 

He missed all this with Christopher. He regrets that all the time. His kid is fifteen. The best kid in the whole world. But time moves so fast. So, so fast. So Eddie takes a minute. With this child, who isn’t his, but who feels like it anyway. He takes a minute to let it feel slow. 

iv.

October 1st is a Thursday, so they have Artie’s first birthday party two days later. The anniversary of the day they learned he was born. How fitting. 

It’s a really nice party. The whole day just sort of fills Eddie with an easy warmth. Everyone shows up. There’s cake. There’s decorations. There are far too many presents. Eddie takes an obnoxious amount of photos. The atmosphere is entirely joyful.

At one, Artie is a lot of things. He’s turning more and more into a little person every day. He’s absolutely packed full of energy. No surprise there, considering his paternity. He’s an absolute chatterbox, despite his limited vocabulary. He will stand and dance on the spot to any song he hears, wiggling around like a wind-up-toy. He loves animals. He loves the beach. He hates really windy days. He thinks Chris is the best person on the planet. He calls both Buck and Eddie dad. 

Eddie loves him more than anyone but Christopher.

When it happens, they’re sitting at the dining room table. Artie and Daniel are in side-by-side high chairs, both absolutely smearing their faces with blue icing from birthday cupcakes. Chimney is recording it, laughing. It’s one of those happy, perfect moments Eddie wishes he could pause.

“They aren’t going to sleep tonight,” Hen warns. 

“Worth it,” Buck shrugs. “Look at them. They’re best friends!”

“Do they have any other choice, Buck?” Bobby asks.

“Well, no…” Buck admits.

The doorbell rings. 

It’s weird that the doorbell rings. It’s weird, because everyone is here. Everyone who they invited, everyone who said they could come, is already here. 

“I’ll get it,” Buck says, equal amounts of confusion clear in his expression. 

He strides off towards the front door, and for whatever reason, Eddie feels compelled to follow him. To see. He doesn’t know why. He’s not usually so suspicious of someone coming to his door.

He has good reason to be. 

Eddie is standing maybe six or seven feet behind Buck when he opens the door. Before Eddie sees who’s there, he knows. He knows, because Buck’s entire body language goes rigid. Eddie knows. He knows, and he instantly feels the need to puke.

“Jaylin,” Buck says. His voice is stern. Cold. 

Eddie takes a small side step so he can see her. Her hair is shorter. She’s pretty thin. She looks nervous. 

“Hi, Buck.”

Eddie’s jaw is locked tight. He wants to tell her to fuck off and never come back but that is neither appropriate or his place. And also, he simply cannot. 

“What are you doing here?” Buck demands. “Where have you been?”

“It’s… I know I’m late for his birthday,” she says. “Uh, I was traveling back and… And there were car troubles.”

“Car troubles?” Buck echoes icily. “Jaylin, it’s been nine months.”

“I know. I know. But it’s his birthday and I’m his mother,” she says. “I need to see him. Even for a little bit. Please, Buck.”

“I-I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Buck says. “We’re in the middle of a party. He doesn’t know you.”

“I’m his mom! He’ll… It hasn’t been that long. He’ll remember.”

Eddie’s not proud of what he does next. He really isn’t. But the important thing is that it’s not against Buck’s wishes. Not exactly. Because he hears the next words from Buck’s mouth. And those words are Jaylin, no. Not right now. And he just reacts. 

He turns and walks as fast as he can without running back into the dining room.

[zepskies]

Sid and Nancy are back, y'all! *rubs hands together* Let's get into it, because my heart was broken and hanging on the edge of a cliff after Video Games. 😭

First, I've gotta say how pretty the color scheme and art is for this fic, Wayne. So delicate and lovely. 👌🏽🩷🩵

The crystalline water of the small lake is peaceful, a calm Ben appreciates as he sits on the dock, his bow legs hanging down and feet almost touching the perfectly still surface.

And already I love the opening of this -- so cinematic. Beautiful description.~

“Divorce.” Remembering the word brings forth another surge of paralyzing anger.

Aaaand thank you for reminding me why my heart has been broken. 😭😭 lmao Clearly Ben isn't taking this well (nor should he, tbf). It really got me when he said that she was his best friend -- his only friend as well as his love. I get that he feels betrayed, but though he's come a long way, he still hasn't matured enough not to lash out at her over the phone. 🙄

Mrs. Brooks – a fine, older widow in her 70s – and asked her to keep an eye on the kid while he went to the local watering hole. She was the kid’s usual babysitter and very fond of both him and the little slugger. She was also constantly flirting with him. It was only too bad Ben couldn’t get her pregnant…

*askasdnawjf* omfg, BEN. 💀💀💀

“Dad, look! I got it on by myself,” his six-year-old announces and holds up both hook and worm with a proud and wide grin to show him. Ben forces a smile to his lips. “Good job, buddy.”

Awwww Benny. 🥹 This kid's probably the only reason Ben's holding it together. I loved Ben's internal monologue of how he's trying to do better for his son, but also feels guilty for even saying in anger that he's not his real son. 😭 I truly hope the kid never actually hears about that later. Idk if my heart could take it! 😂

He fails more often than not.

Oh the joys of parenting lol, let alone single parenting.

Ben’s keeping it for emergencies, though. In case he needs to protect her – or his family, his kid. In case that Neuman cunt turns on her because he surely doesn’t trust that booger-brain bitch. He keeps it in case he feels weak. He also keeps a vial of the cure in case she changes her mind and takes it after all. But sometimes he’s scared to ask or push too hard because it very likely would kill her, and he couldn’t fucking live with that.

Oooh this makes so much sense that he would keep a vial of V for emergencies. Like as much as we don't want that for him at this point, the danger of this world and how it views Ben might push him to do something drastic to save his family.

She knows Ben’s a big man-child, though. Rehab didn’t entirely fix that.

lol at least she knows him well. 😅 She knows he didn't mean the shit he said, even if it did cut her down to the bone.

I also loved her whole monologue on why she resigned and came back to him and the kid. It's such a difficult situation, but the way they reunited gave me such warm feels. 🥹 (knitting back my heart together one truth confession at a time! 💗💗)

Ben frowns slightly at her words but tries not to take too much offense. His wife is here, and that’s all that counts. But: Fuck that cock-juggling thunder cunt…

omfg 💀💀💀 there's no cure for this with him, is there? 🤣🤣

“Look, I don’t mean any offense by it. The guy’s… alright,” Ben says and clearly struggles to get the words out. “His plays are good. I even think he can get the team to state this year.” “Wow, high praise,” she comments and hides an amused smile behind her coffee mug.

loll baby steps. 😅

Their little breakfast together as a family was so wholesome and lovely (despite Ben's mouth lol)!

“Still want ten kids?” she teases. His brow raises comically at her words, making her giggle. “Maybe three are enough,” he admits. Before, he never thought kids could be that much work. He also thought he wouldn’t be as involved in… well, raising them. “Or two. Maybe just one more…” She laughs, throwing her head back. “Yeah, two sounds nice.”

LOL yeeeah, kids are hard work, Ben. Now he sees for himself. 🤣🤣

Ben can’t lie and say he isn’t a little nervous, too, rubbing his palms along his thick thighs in anticipation. She’s stronger than him now, which makes his heart flutter slightly. He feels a bit like he’s playing with matches, trying to set himself on fire. Was this how his human lovers always felt when he was still Soldier Boy? Little scary…

I never thought of it this way, but that's such an interesting (and delicious) power imbalance with SB that you would never see coming in a fic. Such good storytelling. 👌🏽

His smile fades, though, once he’s out of view. He knows better than anyone Y/N shouldn’t be feeling sick. She’s a supe, so he knows something is off – and it’s more than nerves and exhaustion. And then, fear sets in.

Oh GODDDD. Are you pulling in the Gen V virus?!

I have to wonder if Neuman in on it and that's why she sent our girl home. Or maybe someone else is targetting her, or she caught the virus somehow by accident? Oh good lord. 😰 Ben's REALLY gonna need to step it up if he's going to save her (and himself really).

You really know how to start things off with a bang, my friend!! lol Can't wait to see what Part 2 has in store. 💕

Lover – Part 1

Series Summary: Free from his past, Ben’s trying to move on and find a little drop of happiness in this new world. But when he finally holds everything he ever wanted in his hands, it threatens to slip through the cracks, and he has to fight one final time with everything he’s got to keep it.

🫡 Catch up here! Sequel to Rehab & Video Games.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ due to language & mature themes, established relationship, Soldier Boy x wife!reader, angst, discussions of divorce, Dad!Soldier Boy, human!Soldier Boy, SB trying to be an ally (trust me it's a warning lol), fluff, (the beginnings of) smut

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Sid and Nancy are back to finally get their happy end for Valentine's 💕 The road might be a little bumpy until then, but we'll get there 😉

Disclaimer: This is a sequel story. The reader and Soldier Boy met at a rehab facility in 2025 after both being cured of Compound V. Reader became a supe again at the end of the series and is still currently a supe with acidic powers. Seriously guys, catch up with the links above. I can't explain everything... 😝

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 1: Lovelorn

The crystalline water of the small lake is peaceful, a calm Ben appreciates as he sits on the dock, his bow legs hanging down and feet almost touching the perfectly still surface. But underneath the serenity roars a thundering storm, his mind reeling like the fishing pole in his grasp without an end in sight.

“Fuck that! Fuck all of that shit, Y/N! I fucking love you. I’m sick and tired of those games. How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I miss you, huh? I don’t wanna do this anymore. I don’t wanna call you and hope you have time to pick up. I don’t wanna text you and wait hours for a fucking answer. I don’t wanna fuck you through a dumbass screen. I miss you. I miss my wife. I miss actual goddamn sex, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know. I miss all of that, too. Maybe it’s time. Maybe we should finally talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

“Divorce.”

Remembering the word brings forth another surge of paralyzing anger. His jaw clenches, the grip around the pole tightening. He’s sure even the fish can feel his fury since they refuse to bite this evening. A flicker of sunlight that reflects on the water’s surface then hits his green eyes, flashes of the haunting night flowing freely into his mind.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You wanna fucking divorce me?!”

“Ben, just listen–“

“No, you fucking listen! You’re my fucking wife, and you’re not fucking leaving me! You understand? Till death do us part, sweetheart, and I fucking mean it.”

Ben’s heart twinges at the memory. He recalls how she startled at his threat, not knowing he regretted those words as soon as he said them. He remembers how her breath halted, how her hands jittered, and how the tears brimmed in her eyes.

“Ben, I just want you to be happy. You’re supposed to have a family. Everything you ever wanted…”

“So were you. You’re supposed to be fucking here. With me. And the kid. We’re supposed to do this fucking thing together. Remember?”

“But I can’t!”

“Can’t or don’t fucking want to, huh?”

“Ben, I don’t wanna keep you trapped. This way, you can find someone new. Someone who can give you want you want.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you? No one can give me want I fucking want but you. I wanna fucking be with you!”

“Ben…”

“No, you know what? You wanna fucking leave me like all the others, go fucking right ahead!”

“Ben–“

“You want me to fuck someone else so badly? Be fucking happy? Fucking fine! Consider your wish granted, wifey. Guess, I’m going out tonight and fuck some other slut. Who knows, maybe I’ll fucking knock her up, too! Get a real fucking kid…”

“Ben!”

“Fuck you, my love!”

Ben doesn’t even remember if he hung up before he flung the phone against wall. All he knows is that he had to get a new one the next morning.

And moreover, he did go out that very same night. He called the neighbor, Mrs. Brooks – a fine, older widow in her 70s – and asked her to keep an eye on the kid while he went to the local watering hole. She was the kid’s usual babysitter and very fond of both him and the little slugger. She was also constantly flirting with him. It was only too bad Ben couldn’t get her pregnant…

At the bar, he then met Cynthia – a petite redhead with a huge rack, a perfectly shaped ass, and ideal child-bearing hips in a tight, glittery, emerald dress. It shone like a neon sign.

He bought her three drinks, and she constantly touched his arm as he whispered dirty things into her ear. He could’ve easily persuaded her to come to the dingy pub’s bathroom with him, where he’d rail her from behind till she saw fucking stars and was dripping his cum. But the scrape of her nails against his skin caused him to shudder over and over again – not in the good way – and he cursed himself for fucking missing his wife. He also remembered how shitty he'd felt the last time he had executed similar revenge plans…

This wouldn’t do, so he ditched the floozy there on the spot and returned to an empty house, angrier and more frustrated than before.

Ben fucking hates everything and everyone.

“Dad, look! I got it on by myself,” his six-year-old announces and holds up both hook and worm with a proud and wide grin to show him.

Ben forces a smile to his lips. “Good job, buddy.”

He tries his best to hide his envenomed mood from his son. He recalls how he always hated it when his own father took his personal shit out on him. Ben vows to do better, although the focus should really be on the term trying.

He fails more often than not.

Another regret of that night trickles into his mind then, one that haunts and tortures him more than the other hateful things he’s spewed.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll fucking knock her up, too! Get a real fucking kid…”

Sure, in the beginning, Ben thought he’d never really view the kid as his own flesh and blood, but he would’ve gone along with it for her. Y/N once called them a family of misfits – forgotten and lost souls cast out by the rest of society. But they’d always have each other and that was what counted.

Where the fuck is she now, though?

When she didn’t come with them to start their new life, Ben pretty much wrote the whole ‘found family’ bullshit off as a lost cause. He’d never get along with the kid, he was constantly frustrated by the little rascal’s shenanigans and outbursts, all the while his long-distance wife urged him to be patient over a fucking phone.

Ben’s felt fucking alone most days.

However, with a firm hand, a level head, and some old-school discipline, Ben’s managed the impossible and set the kid on the right track. Now, little Ben’s staying out of playground trouble, being nice to his teachers, and getting straight-As.

Alright, fine…

Out of sheer boredom and not because he was desperate, Ben might have read those stupid parenting books Y/N got him for Christmas: The Gentle Parenting Book, Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child, and Parenting from the Inside Out.

Bunch of sissy bullshit if you ask Ben. He wanted a fucking Rolex under the tree and not coded messages wrapped in nice paper. And moreover, he’ll never admit that hogwash has actually helped, even if the Russians take him and torture him for another forty years.

It’s been a fucking struggle, but the boy’s grown on him. And in all honesty, the kid probably resembles him more than the firstborn who shares his bloodline. Sometimes, Ben even (quietly) thinks it’s a fucking good thing the kid doesn’t have an ounce of his DNA.

So, now they go camping and fishing together. They go to the bowling alley, the arcade, and to local high school football games. Ben tries to teach the boy what he knows (to the best of his abilities). And a few weeks ago, the kid suddenly started to call him the D-word. Y/N, on the other hand, has received the M-word pretty instantly – and she’s a fucking great mother, even from afar.

And at first, Ben surely considered it fucking weird since the kid isn’t really his, but, well, the word’s grown on him as much as the boy himself.

Ben still feels fucking guilty for even merely suggesting he wasn’t his real son – because he is, and he hopes the kid never finds out he ever uttered those words in the first place.

The former supe sighs internally. What has she fucking done to him? He wouldn’t mind the change as much if he got to keep the reward…

His mind flickers with a glimmer of an idea when the fading sunlight hits the shimmering veil again. The solution to everything, one little blue vial, is hidden right underneath the wooden floorboards of his bedroom. He’s thought about it a lot.

He could be with her. She wouldn’t have to be scared to hurt him. He could be someone again. Nothing could break him anymore.

Sometimes, that shit was harder to quit than fucking drugs. No wonder they needed a whole-ass rehab for it.

Ben’s keeping it for emergencies, though. In case he needs to protect her – or his family, his kid. In case that Neuman cunt turns on her because he surely doesn’t trust that booger-brain bitch. He keeps it in case he feels weak.

He also keeps a vial of the cure in case she changes her mind and takes it after all. But sometimes he’s scared to ask or push too hard because it very likely would kill her, and he couldn’t fucking live with that.

Because of what? Because he’s being a whiny pussy who wants to risk his wife’s life over a fucking kiss? A fuck?

It sounds insane. He doesn’t want this.

She’s more than his wife, too. She’s his fucking best friend and the only one he’s ever had. Maybe that’s why it hurts so fucking much. How could she even think for a second he’d rather fucking leave and do this with some fucking stranger?

Doesn’t she believe he’s changed? Not even her? Who else is there, then?

“Dad?” His son blinks at him with that look he can’t say no to. Why the fuck are children always doing that? “Can we order pizza? I don’t think the fish are biting.”

“I think you’re right. And hey, I can always go for pizza. Great idea, buddy,” Ben says and can see the kid brighten up at his words. He’d always wanted his father to call him “buddy” or “slugger” – or something other than a fucking disappointment.

What about the kid? pops into his mind. If he takes Compound V again, what happens to his son? What if he becomes one of the monsters Ben’s trying to protect him from? He knows all too well how that shit fucked with his mind the first time around. It’s not as easy.

“Hey.”

Ben’s heart stills like the water in front of him as the soft melody of her voice reaches his ears. He presses his eyes shut as the kid ditches his fishing pole on the dock and dives straight into her waiting arms.

“Mommy!”

“Hey, buddy, I missed you.” She smiles and tousles his hair, but her eyes drift to the far end of the dock where her husband still sits and doesn’t bother to even face her. “I got a surprise for you inside in the kitchen, Benny. You wanna go run ahead and check it out? Your dad and I will join you soon.”

“Cool! Awesome! See ya!”

Their son bolts so fast toward the house, Y/N’s surprised he doesn’t stumble in the grass once. She then lets out a sigh when her attention turns back to her sulking husband.

“You’re gonna acknowledge me at all or just ignore me for the rest of your life?” she prompts, a bit of venom on her tongue.

Yes, she knows her words hurt him, even though they were said with the best intentions. She knows she’s failing as a wife and mother. She knows they both deserve better. She just wanted him to have the option.

However, she can’t say his words haven’t hurt her, too. And it hurt even more when he ignored her for two weeks straight, kept her from their son, and never returned any of her calls or messages.

She knows Ben’s a big man-child, though. Rehab didn’t entirely fix that.

“Not sure yet,” he finally answers but still doesn’t even gift her a glance over his broad and brooding shoulder.

“Oh, it speaks.” She can’t help the bits of sarcasm but is aware she has to tread carefully now. “You’ve been ignoring me for two weeks.”

“Don’t have much to fucking say to you…” Ben grabs a bottle of beer from the cooler next to him, twists it open, and occupies his mouth with a gulp before he says something else he regrets. “‘Sides, my phone broke. Got a new one.”

“Something you usually tell your wife,” she mutters bitterly under her breath.

“Yeah, but not you’re fucking ex-wife,” he retorts.

“We’re still married.”

“Does it fucking matter?” Ben counters and takes another sip.

“I hope it does,” she mumbles and sighs once more, pocketing her hands in her jacket. It’s gotten cold outside – much like their marriage. “Guess that means you haven’t seen my press conference this morning?”

“Nope. Don’t fucking care,” Ben scoffs. He sounds more than a little bitter before his raspy voice ramps up with pettiness. “Already got a new piece of ass. Better fuck than you ever were. Sorry, doll.”

Y/N purses her lips, her head bobbing when he throws the dagger that aims for her heart. He could’ve still been Soldier Boy, and she would’ve believed him. And somehow, she isn’t surprised by his reaction, which really is the sad part. Her heart floods with hurt; her mind berates him and calls him every goddamn name in the book she’s ever learned from him.

Broken promises – that is the theme of their marriage.

Instead of pouring oil into the fire, however, she decides to stay calm. They’ve been through so much together. She’s already forgiven him once, she can do it again.

No one’s perfect. Not her. Not him. Especially him.

“I resigned this morning.”

Yup. Ben feels immediate regret for the lie he’s told.

He’s so stumped by her words, his head finally twists over his shoulder with wide eyes and a raised brow. Their gazes meet for the first time, and Ben is reminded why he had avoided eye contact.

She is breathtakingly beautiful.

“Look, uhm… I know this is my fault,” she starts and swallows thickly. Her eyes are so focused on the tips of her boots, she doesn’t even notice he has gotten up from his spot and is strolling closer to her. “I shouldn’t have said it. Not over the phone, not like this. I don’t wanna divorce you, okay? I don’t wanna fucking leave you. I love you, even when you drive me nuts, which you do quite a lot… But the point is – I want this with you. I’ve always wanted this with you… I’ve been working really hard to control my powers and doing meditations, and Vicky even got me a trainer… I want this to work, ok–“

She’s cut off by his lips on hers. His massive hands cup her entire face and hold her so close to him, she’s not sure they’re not melting into one person altogether. He kisses her so deeply as if he hasn’t done it in ages, which he hasn’t.

And sure, surprising her is probably not the smartest idea, considering she could accidentally kill him. But he’s always lived for a good adrenaline rush.

“Ben!” she gasps, eyes wide. But she doesn’t pull away like she usually does. She even keeps her palms placed on his beating heart. She giggles a little at his eagerness and is positively baffled by his reaction. It patches the wounds on her heart a bit.

“I fucking lied, okay? It’s not true. I didn’t-… There’s no one else, alright?” he assures her quickly, thumb brushing her glowing cheeks. “You believe me?”

He’s almost nervous that she won’t. He can’t even blame her, considering his track record. But to his relief, her lips rise to a soft smile.

“I do,” she replies, causing his heart to downright soar. “Don’t ask me why, because I have no fucking idea, but I do.”

Ben smacks his lips. There’s more weighing on his crumpled, old, and heavy heart. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said that night too, alright? I would never hurt you, I swear.”

She nods in his hands. “I know. Don’t worry, okay? Sometimes we say things we don’t mean. Doesn’t make them true. You know I’m kinda the queen of that,” she says and offers him a wry smile.

Ben then pulls her to his lips and kisses her – feverishly and fervently. This time, he even dares to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands graciously exploring her curves that mold perfectly to his frame. When he generously palms and squeezes her buttcheeks, she breaks from the kiss with a laugh.

“Slow down, Casanova,” she says, giggling, her cheeks blushing and hurting furiously. “Take it easy on me, alright? Baby steps.”

“Not even a little sorry.” He chuckles quite cheekily and reluctantly lets her go but stays close. “So, you quit? What about the deal? What did the bitch say?”

“Well, good things happen when you’re nice to people and actually make friends,” she says with a mischievous smile that’s supposed to hide the lecture. But Ben knows there’s one somewhere in there. “Vicky just wants me to be happy, so she reluctantly let me go because I’m still an awesome Chief of Staff. And granted, she doesn’t necessarily understand why my happiness includes you, but she’s a great friend, so…”

Ben frowns slightly at her words but tries not to take too much offense. His wife is here, and that’s all that counts. But: Fuck that cock-juggling thunder cunt…

“You’re staying? For good now?” he checks, not trusting the peace entirely. When could he ever?

“I’m staying for good,” she confirms, smiling brightly. “Unless you don’t want me t–“

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” He kisses her faster than her mouth can move, hot and rough. As he slowly draws back, his nose brushes hers, and he looks deeply into her eyes. “I’m gonna show you how much I want you tonight.”

“Ben, I told you – baby steps,” she reminds him gently but still giggles when he continues to tease her, beard tickling the spot behind her ear.

“I promise I steer clear of the home runs, but I will make it to third base, my love,” he all but swears and places a wet kiss on her forehead. “Now, let’s get inside before the kid burns the house down…”

Y/N laughs as she takes his hand, sauntering back to their home together as the sun sets behind them.

“Mom, you wanna come to a football game with us tonight?” her son asks as he eagerly shuffles his breakfast into his mouth.

The boy hasn’t left her side since she’s come home last night, even sneaking into their bed to cuddle with her – a little to Ben’s chagrin. But after a few scolding looks from his wife, he relented to sharing the attention.

She swears she has two children sometimes…

“Yeah, I’d love to,” she agrees with a wide smile. Little things like that are all she’s ever wanted.

Ben can tell she’s moved because there are tears stinging her eyes again. He thinks they might be a permanent addition at this point, considering they haven’t disappeared since she came home.

“Just a heads up, though, the football coach is a twink,” Ben informs her and actually believes it’s helpful.

Y/N furrows her brow and tilts her head. “Ben, what–“

“Look, I don’t mean any offense by it. The guy’s… alright,” Ben says and clearly struggles to get the words out. “His plays are good. I even think he can get the team to state this year.”

“Wow, high praise,” she comments and hides an amused smile behind her coffee mug. It might not seem like much, but it’s the most acceptance he’s ever shown someone from the LGBTQ community.

“Oh, yeah, I’m a full ally now.” He grins broadly. “Even the lesbians said so.”

“What lesbians?”

“Alec’s parents,” he replies as if it’s obvious, referring to their son’s best friend in school.

“You never said they were lesbians,” she points out, the wrinkles on her brow deepening.

“Sure, I did.”

“No, you said Alec’s parents were a ‘hot blonde’ and some ‘burly dude.’”

“Yeah.” He shrugs simply. “And the burly dude turned out to be a woman. Took me a while to realize, though. Was hard to find boobs under that flannel…”

“Alright, and I think that is enough grown-up talk around the kid for now,” she says, shaking her head in amusement.

“I don’t mind,” Benny quips from his chair and grins slyly at his parents.

“Uh-huh, keep eating your breakfast,” she says and ruffles his hair as she gets up from her seat by the island next to him.

They spend the whole day together, taking Benny to the batting cage at the park and the food court at the mall before attending a high school football game. As they return home late that night, the kid is so exhausted he falls right into his bed and passes out, and Ben hopes to God he goddamn stays there for the rest of the night.

He has great plans for his wife tonight.

“Alone at last,” Y/N says as she slings her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply as she sways in his embrace in the living room, his large hands resting perfeclty on her hips.

“You can say that again,” Ben huffs, but there’s amusement in his voice.

“Still want ten kids?” she teases. His brow raises comically at her words, making her giggle.

“Maybe three are enough,” he admits. Before, he never thought kids could be that much work. He also thought he wouldn’t be as involved in… well, raising them. “Or two. Maybe just one more…”

She laughs, throwing her head back. “Yeah, two sounds nice.”

“Wanna get working on one right now?” Ben suggests with his best flirty smile and a wag of his brows but can quickly see her reluctance and cups her cheeks, lifting her gaze to him. “We’ll go as slow as you need to, alright? But I believe in you. I know you got this shit under control.”

For a heartbeat, she licks her lips in contemplation, and Ben already thinks it’s a lost cause, but then she actually nods.

“Okay,” she agrees and stretches on tiptoes to tentatively catch his upper lip between her soft, plush pillows. Her fingers crawl up his jaw, card through his beard. “But you’re gonna have to let me be in control if you don’t want me to kill you.”

Ben only entertains it with a cheeky smile. “Well, might be fun for a change,” he says and lifts her back to his lips with a finger under her chin.

He takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom. He only turns on the small lamp by his bedside before his ravening eyes turn their full attention back to her. He marvels at her beauty in the soft, warm glow for a moment before lifting the t-shirt over her head and tossing it aside.

He kisses down the column of her throat, teeth biting skin and soothing it with his tongue as he works his way inside her bra. A hunger is spreading inside of him at her taste, her smell, her noises. He tries to tame it as best as he can on her behalf, but it’s fucking hard. He’s fucking hard.

She hums, moans the further he travels, the rougher he gets as he devours every free inch of her body. He tests the waters, sees where he can bite. Her skin is more durable now. Ben still remembers the feeling – the numbness.

Her fingers jitter nervously as they fumble with his belt buckle and zipper. Ben thinks it’s cute. He’s never seen her like this before. He’s almost sad he doesn’t have super-hearing anymore to listen to the wild beats of her heart.

But he wouldn’t trade what he’s feeling right now for the world. He has almost forgotten what it all felt like before the blue poison made him so indifferent and callous. He never thought he’d wish her to be human. And not out of petty, jealousy, or selfishness – out of love.

Ben wants her to feel exactly what he feels and knows she fucking can’t right now.

The rest of their clothes land in a pile on the floor as they peel off each item, carefully working their way to bare skin. Ben’s fingers almost twitch from holding back – he’d love to tear and rip it all off. Baby steps.

When she’s left only in a pair of delicate lace panties, she gently pushes against his chest, forcing him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Ben can’t lie and say he isn’t a little nervous, too, rubbing his palms along his thick thighs in anticipation. She’s stronger than him now, which makes his heart flutter slightly. He feels a bit like he’s playing with matches, trying to set himself on fire.

Was this how his human lovers always felt when he was still Soldier Boy?

Little scary…

She straddles his thighs and takes a seat in his lap, teeth biting her bottom lip back and hiding half of the smile that graces her lips. Her hips rock against the achingly straining bulge in his boxers.

Ben’s been as hard as tungsten since she’s kissed him last night. Forty years imprisonment haven’t cost him this much restraint as one year without touching his wife, who was practically right underneath his nose the whole time. He figures it was the sheer temptation that constantly triggered his need for her. The Russians never were that fucking pretty.

She sucks the skin on his throat purple and blue and leaves bite marks behind. Ben knows she loves staking her claim on him, and he always enjoys inspecting her little art projects in the mornings. He’s gladly hers as much as she is his.

His massive hands wander her curves, squeeze taut flesh and perfectly frame her perky tits. Her skin feels smooth and soft and warm, hot even. Too hot…

“You’re hot,” he murmurs breathlessly against her lips.

She doesn’t understand what he means and smiles, although her brow furrows slightly as if she found the question at least a little odd. He was usually more direct, more racy. “Thank you. So are you?”

She tries to kiss him again, but he pulls back, his hands grabbing her upper arms and holding her at a distant as he inspects her closely. His brow knits deeper and deeper as he cups her scorching cheeks before his palm slides to her forehead.

“No…” He shakes his head, worry stirring his blood. His heartbeat accelerates, but not for the purpose he expected it to. “You’re burning up.”

As Ben looks closer at her face, he sees how pale she is, how hazy her eyes are. He worries more.

“I do feel a little warm, I guess,” she admits and then forces a weak smile. He could’ve almost mistaken it for lust. “But I’m fine, okay? Probably just nerves.”

Ben would love nothing more than to believe that, but he can’t. Something’s wrong. But it’s his job as her husband to not make her worry and take care of her.

“How about we postpone this to tomorrow, huh, my love?” Ben suggests and gently cards his hands through her hair.

“You sure?” She is surprised, considering how adamant and persistent he’s been to get her here. But she honestly feels too exhausted to argue for long.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says and lovingly pecks her temple. “Just get some rest, okay? It’s been a lot for you those past two days.”

Ben helps her gently into bed, ensures the blanket covers her thoroughly, and places a goodnight kiss to her hairline. She’s fast asleep by the time he leaves the bedroom.

His smile fades, though, once he’s out of view. He knows better than anyone Y/N shouldn’t be feeling sick. She’s a supe, so he knows something is off – and it’s more than nerves and exhaustion.

And then, fear sets in.

Part 2: Lovesick – TOMORROW 💕

*coughs a little angst* We might have a teeny-tiny virus going around... 👀

What did you guys think of this part? Did you expect him to postpone sexy times? Someone finally give that man his fucking Rolex for those heroics 😂🫶

🩵 Tag List☕️ Ko-Fi💭 Talk Dirty to Me

TAGS:

Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @lyarr24 @supernotnatural2005 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report @misatxox @spnaquakindgdom

@americanvenom13 @lamentationsofalonelypotato

Soldier Boy: @deans-baby-momma @snowayumi

Rehab Series: @nancymcl @sparkydonugh

[theloveinc]

OlderDad!Bakugou who gets a haircut and his baby doesn't recognize him and he doesn't want his dad to pick him up 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Bakugou has a cry in the bathroom and you have to spend the rest of the night consoling him.

Also Hiiiiiii, miss u, hope youre gooooood

head in my hands bc of this, just thought abt bakugo growing out his hair a little bit right after baby's birth...takes him months to go and get a real haircut cuz he doesn't wanna burden you more than he already has and by the time he's okay with the thought (but only for "AN HOUR MAX," is what he says), he has a mullet thing going on and all this scruff on his chin🥺🥺🥺

so he gets home with his regular ol' haircut, maybe a little shorter just to account for ... not wanting to go again so soon, and baby's HOLLERING bloody murder as soon as they see him and refusing to be taken out of your arms, doing that thing where they're flipping their face back and forth to dodge a kiss...

it's so tragic bc not even a little cheek nuzzling helps to calm them bc bakugo's CLEAN SHAVEN and smells like aftershave instead of like dad when he tries!!!!!!

and after, you watch him kinda sulk into the bathroom, thinking like aw yeah thats a bummer but also pretty funny, too (esp bc the haircut does look good🫣🤓), AND HE DOESN'T COME OUT FOR LIKE an hour???

....until you finally have to ask him if he's okay in there and you're opening the door to him sitting on the toilet seat, arms crossed and red cheeks a little streaky with tears...

LJFKASDJFADSJK it's the cutest, most sad sight you ever did see!! ofc Bakugo tries to deny it, but the way he tears up again (after you're done assuring him he did nothing wrong) when his baby finally realizes it's him and smiles (and then how he refuses to give them up again until bedtime) has his ass. EXPOSED.

(i love and miss u more than air, earth, water, dirt + HOPE YOU'RE GOOD TOO BESTIE ILY)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

BIRTHDAY HAUL courtesy of a very lovely friend of mine 🥺

bonus goofy pics of a bday snack i had earlier with my favorite menace …..

[quadrantadvisor]

Sometimes I still think about The Owl House Gang all trying to watch ATLA together but then Zuko's backstory in The Storm retraumatizes Hunter so bad they have to stop

[vaguely-concerned]

I was just ambushed within the turbulent halls of my own mind by some headcanons about rye ingellvar's childhood that did 15000000 points of psychic damage to me and my heart personally and also made me almost sure of how I want to play it all at the end (very very differently from how I imagined going in!). some 'oh holy fuck this changes everything' rocking my own world bullshit going on in my neurons right now I'm reeling

[illogicalghost]

.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: "Promises in the Dark"

Part 4

Whitney had fallen asleep curled up against your chest, her small breaths warm against your skin. You didn’t dare move, even though your legs were going numb from sitting so long on the couch. Marshall sat beside you, watching you both, his face unreadable.

The house was quiet now, but the weight of the night still pressed down on your chest.

"I meant what I said," you murmured, barely above a whisper.

Marshall’s brow furrowed. "What part?"

You swallowed. "That I can get better."

He exhaled, rubbing his hands together. "You don’t sound sure."

"I’m not."

His jaw tensed, but he nodded. "Then we’ll figure it out."

You glanced at him, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. "It’s not that easy, Marshall."

"I know that." His voice was quiet but firm. "I know it’s not just some switch you can flip. But, baby, you—" He trailed off, shaking his head. "You gotta let me help you. You gotta let us help you."

You looked down at Whitney, her tiny hand still clinging to your shirt even in sleep.

You thought about Hailie and Alaina, their cautious glances, the fear they tried to hide.

You thought about the moment Marshall pulled you from the pool, the way his hands had shaken as he held you, the raw panic in his voice when he begged you to stay.

They were all terrified.

And that—more than anything—was what made your chest tighten.

"I don’t know how to do this," you admitted.

Marshall’s hand found yours, his fingers lacing between yours. "Then let’s start small."

You hesitated. "Small how?"

"Talk to me." His thumb brushed over your knuckles. "Tell me when it’s bad. When it’s too much. Don’t keep that shit locked up, baby. You don’t have to carry it alone."

Your throat felt tight. "And if I can’t?"

"Then I’ll keep asking until you do."

You let out a slow, shaky breath.

Maybe it wasn’t enough.

Maybe you would slip again.

Maybe the road ahead was long and fucking impossible.

But Marshall wasn’t going anywhere.

And maybe—for tonight—that had to be enough.

The house was quiet in the early morning, the kind of stillness that only came after too many restless nights. You weren’t sure what woke you up, but when you glanced to the other side of the bed, Marshall was gone.

You stretched, feeling the stiffness in your bones, the weight still heavy in your chest. But you got up anyway, pulling on a hoodie before quietly making your way down the hall.

That’s when you heard them.

The girls.

Their voices were hushed, barely above whispers, but the closer you got to the living room, the clearer the words became.

And it felt like someone had taken a bat to your ribs.

"We just have to be ready," Hailie was saying, her voice steady but thick. "If something happens, we can’t let Dad fall apart."

"But what if—" Whitney’s small voice cut in, unsure.

"Don’t say it," Alaina interrupted. "We’re not thinking like that."

A silence stretched between them before Whitney spoke again, softer this time. "But Daddy was really sad before. What if—what if Mommy—" She didn’t finish.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, your stomach twisting.

They were scared.

Not just for you.

For him.

For what losing you might do to him.

And that hurt more than anything.

"He won’t," Hailie said firmly. "We won’t let him. If she—if she gets bad again, we’ll help him. We’ll help her. We just have to be ready."

You backed away before you could hear anything else, heart pounding.

They shouldn’t have had to talk like that.

They shouldn’t have had to plan for something like that.

You had thought your pain was yours alone.

You were wrong.

And now, it was ripping through the people you loved most.

You turned and walked back toward your room, your vision blurred, your breath unsteady.

You had to fix this.

Somehow.

---

The next morning, you woke up with a plan.

You were going to fix this.

You were going to be okay.

Maybe not actually, maybe not deep down, but they didn’t need to know that. They just needed to see you trying. They needed to believe you were getting better.

So you got up before Marshall.

You showered. You put on real clothes. You even brushed your hair and put on a little makeup—not enough to be obvious, but just enough to hide the tired circles under your eyes.

By the time the kids came downstairs for breakfast, you were already at the stove, making pancakes.

"Whoa," Alaina said, stopping in the doorway. "Are we celebrating something?"

"Nope." You flashed her a smile, bright and easy. "Just felt like cooking. Figured everyone could use a good morning for once."

Whitney beamed, immediately pulling herself onto a stool at the counter. "Pancakes!"

"With chocolate chips," you added, winking. "But only if you don’t tell Daddy, ‘cause he’s gonna say it’s too much sugar this early."

"Deal!"

Alaina and Hailie exchanged a glance, quiet for a beat too long. But then Hailie smiled, small but real. "Thanks, Mom."

You nodded, flipping another pancake. "Of course, baby."

Marshall noticed the change immediately.

At first, he didn’t say anything. He just watched.

Watched the way you smiled more. The way you filled the space instead of shrinking into it. The way you kissed his cheek as you passed by, fingers brushing his shoulder.

It should’ve made him feel better.

It did—for a little while.

But then he noticed the little things.

The way your smile never quite reached your eyes.

The way you laughed just a little too easily, like you were forcing it.

The way you were always doing something—cleaning, cooking, fussing over the kids—never sitting still long enough to let your guard drop.

Like if you slowed down, even for a second, it would all come crashing down again.

And that’s when he realized—

You weren’t better.

You were faking it.

And fuck, if that didn’t scare him more than anything.

Marshall didn’t call you out on it. Not right away.

Instead, he watched.

And the longer he watched, the more it ate at him.

You were doing everything you were supposed to do. Smiling, laughing, talking to the kids, even touching him more—lingering kisses, hands brushing against his, soft reassurances that you were okay.

But none of it felt right.

It was too perfect, too carefully curated, like you had rehearsed it in your head before stepping into the room.

It was an act.

And it was killing him to see it.

You should’ve known Marshall would catch on eventually.

You saw it in the way he looked at you, eyes dark with something unreadable. He wasn’t fooled, not really.

But as long as he didn’t say anything, you could keep pretending.

Because you had to.

For him. For the kids.

For yourself.

So when he came up behind you in the kitchen that evening, arms wrapping around your waist, you leaned into him, tilting your head back against his chest. "Hey, baby."

"Hey," he murmured against your hair.

His grip was firm, grounding.

You exhaled, letting your eyes close for just a second.

But then his voice cut through the quiet, soft but heavy—

"How long are you gonna do this?"

Your stomach dropped.

You forced a laugh. "Do what?"

"Pretend."

Your whole body tensed. "I’m not pretending, Marshall."

"Yeah?" His arms tightened slightly, keeping you there, keeping you still. "Then look me in the eye and tell me you’re really okay."

You hesitated—just for a second. But it was long enough.

"That’s what I thought," he muttered, voice rough with something close to frustration.

You turned in his hold, pressing your hands against his chest. "I just—I need to be okay. For you. For them."

"Baby." He shook his head, looking at you like you were breaking his heart. "We don’t need you to act okay. We just need you."

You swallowed hard, the tightness in your throat making it hard to breathe. "I don’t know how to do that."

Marshall exhaled, hand cupping the back of your head as he pulled you against him. "Then let me help."

And just for a moment, you let yourself lean into him, let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to do this alone.

---

It started slowly.

Late at night, when the house was quiet, when the weight of the day wasn’t pressing down on your chest quite as hard, you let yourself talk.

To Marshall.

Just him.

Because he was the only one who could handle it.

You started with small things. Admitting when you were feeling off, when the weight felt too heavy. Letting him hold you when you felt like you were sinking. Telling him about the bad days instead of burying them.

And Marshall listened.

He never pushed. Never rushed you. He just listened.

And when you couldn’t talk, when the words got stuck in your throat, he still knew. He would hold you, pull you against his chest, and murmur, "I got you, baby. I got you."

And for the first time in a long time, you started to believe it.

But with the kids?

You still faked it.

You still smiled in the mornings, made pancakes with Whitney, helped Hailie with schoolwork, and laughed at Alaina’s sarcastic comments. You still kissed Marshall in front of them, still cracked jokes at the dinner table.

Because they needed that.

They needed to see you happy.

They needed to believe you were getting better.

So you gave them that.

Even when it felt like you were holding it together with nothing but duct tape and a forced smile.

Marshall wasn’t blind to it.

He saw the way you lit up around the kids—how effortlessly you wore the mask. But he also saw the way your shoulders slumped the second they left the room. How your smile dropped the second you thought no one was looking.

And it fucking hurt.

One night, after the kids had gone to bed, he found you sitting on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring blankly at the TV.

He sat beside you, his arm draping over your shoulders. "You know you don’t have to fake it with them, right?"

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t look at him. "I do, though."

"Baby—"

"They need me to be okay, Marshall." You finally looked at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I can’t let them see me like this. They’re already so scared."

His jaw clenched, fingers tightening around your arm. "So you just carry it all on your own?"

You swallowed. "I have you."

Marshall exhaled sharply, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Yeah, you do," he murmured. "But I wish you’d let them help too."

You didn’t answer.

Because deep down, you knew he was right.

But you weren’t ready for that yet.

So for now, you’d keep faking.

At least until you figured out how to really be okay.