#and it's nice not to have to make a big fuss of it

[kenntoria]

it’s nanami’s birthday, and he tries very hard to ignore it.

he wakes up at 7:30am like he always does, brushes his teeth in methodical circles, slicks his hair back with quiet precision. the mirror reflects a man who’s turning thirty-five and looks like he hasn’t aged since turning thirty, which sounds nice, until you remember the way stress preserves you like an ancient fossil.

you peek your head around the bathroom door. “happy birthday,” you sing, sleepy-eyed and grinning.

he softens immediately. “thank you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and lets you wrap your arms around his middle even though he’s mid-toothpaste rinse.

he tries to keep the day simple. he plans to go to work, quietly do his paperwork, review cursed object reports, and come home. no fuss. no cake. no streamers. maybe a bath. maybe you curled against his side on the couch. that would be enough.

but you have other plans.

he notices something is off when you kiss him goodbye with a suspiciously innocent little smile and say, “don’t forget to check your desk drawer when you get in.”

he’s suspicious. rightly so.

the moment he sits down in his chair, the drawer reveals its contents with dramatic flair: a small, handwritten note (in glittery gel pen, no less) that says “happy birthday, my grumpy old man 💕”, and beneath it—a handful of his favorite imported chocolates, a tiny plushie of a panda in a tie, and a very official certificate that says “world’s sexiest jujutsu sorcerer (redeemable for 1 kiss upon presentation)”.

nanami stares at it all. sighs. takes a picture. sends it to you with a simple text:

“i’m being harassed.”

you reply with:

“romanced. 🥰”

the day continues in similarly ridiculous fashion. gojo sings happy birthday, makes sure it’s off-key so nanami’s ears bleed. yuuji hugs him so hard his spine cracks. shoko gifts him a bottle of wine with a smirk. there’s confetti in his desk drawer. someone leaves a single candle taped to a can of premium coffee with a note: “don’t say we never spoil you.”

he is mildly annoyed. secretly delighted.

but the best part comes when he gets home.

the lights are off when he steps through the door.

“hello?” he calls, setting his briefcase down. “why is it dark?”

you leap out from the kitchen in a ridiculous party hat with a kazoo. “surprise!” you yell, even though he clearly heard you snickering before you jumped.

on the table: a lopsided cake you made yourself (dark chocolate ganache cake, his favorite), dinner still warm, and a bottle of wine. there are exactly two party hats. one is forcibly placed on his head.

“i told you,” he says, trying not to smile, “i didn’t want anything big.”

“this isn’t big,” you say, eyes sparkling. “this is just right.”

you feed him cake. badly. there’s frosting on his nose. he doesn’t complain. you dance with him in the kitchen, barefoot and swaying to a song playing on your phone, and when he kisses you—it’s slow, tender, full of all the quiet things he never says out loud.

when the night winds down, he opens your final gift: a small photo album you made, titled “reasons to live another 35 years”, filled with pictures of you, of the two of you, scribbled captions like “reason #12: you haven’t tried cheese fondue in switzerland yet” and “reason #28: we still haven’t raised a dog together.”

his hands tremble a little as he turns the pages. you watch him, heart tight and soft.

“you’re ridiculous,” he says quietly, but he kisses you like he’s afraid he’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

“happy birthday,” you whisper against his lips. “you’re stuck with me.”

he smiles then. thinks, it’s exactly what he wanted.

and for the first time in a long while, kento is not just grateful to be alive—

he’s very happy about it.

[scribeofskyrim]

TES GALA WIP - COLOR FLATS

Tagging @sweet-milky-tea705 and @changelingsandothernonsense in case they want to see the progress.

I'm still slowly chipping away at this piece I made for the TES Gala. Between the heat wave and chronic migraines it's not going as fast as I would like, but I still want to finish it because I really, really like it!

In addition to rendering and getting the background in there, I still need to add details like makeup, trim, textures, Elenwen's infamous contour... All that fun stuff. I'm really looking forward to doing more work on it, but that'll have to wait until next week.

From Left to Right, we have:

Erandur - Mara

Valdimar - Kyne

Septim the Dog - Himself, but Barbas if people ask

Bronwen - My LDB - Talos

Lydia - Tsun

Elenwen - Magnus

And because tumblr isn't nice to large images, here's some close-ups.

There's a lot of details on this that I wrote out in the first WIP post, so I'll copy-paste that with some additional notes now that there's color and close-ups.

Detailed explanation and headcanons below the cut!

The Scene:

Bronwen is Talos, and of course, with the Gala being in Summerset, certain people there were not happy to see her choice of outfit.

We all know how much Elenwen loves fancy parties, and since she's the head of the Thalmor in Skyrim of course she'd get an invite. Her superiors at the party asked her to take care of Bronwen without causing a fuss. When she confronted Bronwen she was met with a whisper of a Shout, and thunder rumbled in the distance. (Hells yeah, Storm Call!)

Rather than make a scene, because she would, Bronwen offered a little wager. They play cards, and if she wins, she stays! If she loses, she leaves, simple as that. Elenwen agreed, and a deck of cards was found. Of course, Elenwen couldn't leave it at one game (which she lost), so Bronwen suggested making things more interesting by putting some coins on the table.

And that's where we are now. Several hands in, and Elenwen is both too competitive to stop and has effectively forgotten her original order to eject Bronwen.

Yes, Bronwen is weaponizing her cleavage while she pulls a card from under Septim's collar. She doesn't know if Elenwen likes boobs or not, but either way, they're a distraction!

Environmental Notes:

If the furniture looks a bit big for everyone but Elenwen, you're correct! Altmer are canonically a head taller than most humans, and Elenwen is very tall. So, I scaled up the furniture to comfortably fit an Altmer frame. The playing cards are also Altmer-sized, as are the cups.

Bronwen's kneeling on the chair becasue she's barely over five feet tall.

You can't see the cards very well, but I made up some suits and changed a few of them. The Ace that Bronwen is pulling from Septim's collar is a 1, and the suit is Knots, a symbol of Mara. Elenwen's hand has a 4 of Arrows (for Auri-El's Bow), a 4 of Knots, a 10, a Captain, and a Queen. I figured Mara's Knots would be a good substitute for Hearts, and Auri-El's Arrows for Spades. I haven't come up with any others yet, but I might for later drawings.

Now for the Couture:

Erandur: Mara

Erandur is portraying Mara (of course) with a mix of Old Nord and Dunmer flair. The cut of his outfit is based on various Dunmer priest robes, and the warm colors reflect his regular priest robes and Mara's position as one of the Hearth Gods in Skyrim. The open front shows off his scribemetal Amulet of Mara tattoo. (Scribemetal is a thing I made up, uses magic to turn precious metals into liquid that you can tattoo, makes shiny metallic tattoos, I can talk more about it in a separate post if you want. Anyway...)

Mara was known as the Mother Wolf, and the shoulder decor was taken from the stone carvings you can find of her in ancient Nord tombs. The flowers on the bottom of Erandur's vest are Rose-of-Archon blooms, which are sacred to Mara. The knotwork behind them is just another nod to Nord styling. I need to finish the colorwork on those.

Now for the headcanons - I gave him a bunch of tattoos, which includes an Amulet of Mara over his heart. I also HC him as having the Vaermina robe patterns tattooed on him, but just the outlines. When he left, he had them turned into flames and filled in with red and gold. He does have A LOT more tattoos in my fic, but most of them aren't Gala-appropriate, so he's mostly covered. He has lots of piercings, too, so it's time for fancy jewelry! He's also cleaned up, with neater facial hair.

Valdimar: Kyne

Being a Nord, Valdimar is familiar with their creation myth. Kyne (AKA Kynareth) was said to have breathed the first Nords into life from the wind and ice atop the Throat of the World. Her totem animal was the Hawk, which you see a lot of in old Nord ruins all over Skyrim. To represent the initial creation, he's wearing lots of blue/white/silver. Colors associated with air and snow.

I went hard on the Hawk motif, so as to not confuse Kyne with Kynareth. "Feather" cloak, Kyne buckle, hawk cloak clasps, winged hawk crown, with bracers and boots based on Elven armor from the game, which have a lot of feathers. I picture the cloak as not being made from real blue feathers, but rather a very lightweight fabric, probably a kind of silk, that catches every slight air movement. I like to think it's always moving, to evoke the sense of air and wind.

Headcanon time! Valdimar's stopped shaving his head because he's not mourning his ex any more. I also gave him earrings and tattoos, they're just covered here. He and Erandur are wearing "matching" earrings - Same style, different colors.

Yes, that is a ring on his left hand. No prizes for guessing who has the other one.

Septim the Dog: No one!

Just him! Bronwen did manage to convince the people at the door that he was Babas, because the rules clearly state that everyone needs to be dressed.

Bronwen Legiano: Talos

Yes, she went to a Gala in Summerset dressed as Talos because she's a bit of a chaos gremlin. At first glance she might be mistaken for Akatosh, but if you know what the Talos symbol looks like from the shrines and amulets (remember, Talos worship has been outlawed for over 30 years) then you KNOW that's who she is.

You can't see it here, but there's a giant Talos symbol on the front of her skirt, and she's wearing Talos Amulet earrings. She's dressed in purples, a royal color befitting an emperor, with gold accents. The dress will have a subtle scale pattern to it, to go with her dragon-wing cape that's attached at her wrists and arms from her back. You've probably seen butterfly or bird wing costume capes like that IRL; this is a dragon version of those.

Her crown was the most fun for me, though! It's based on the achievement badge you get when you find the Dragonstone in Bleak Falls Barrow. There's a very stylized Dragon head that you see on the Word Walls in the center, and the stone is red like the Amulet of Kings. Another nod to Talos, fellow Dragonborn!

Lydia: Tsun

Tsun is one of the Dead Gods in the Nord pantheon, and oversees "trials against adversity". He guards the Whalebone Bridge that leads to the Hall of Valor in Sovengarde, and his totem is the Bear. Like I did with Valdimar, I went hard on the Bear motif for Lydia. She has a bearskin mantle for her cloak, and she's wearing the bear helm from the Carved Nordic Armor set in the game.

When you meet Tsun in the game, he's wearing an armored belt almost exactly like this one. The face on his buckle didn't read as a bear to me, so I changed it to the sigil you see on the puzzle columns, and I also put them on her brooches. I put his axe on her false skirt front. She's really wearing pants under there, you just can't tell unless you look.

Why Tsun? Headcanons! I HC Lydia as nobility, with the last name Clawthane. The wolves that serve Tsun in Sovengarde are called Clawthanes, which is where her family got their name, and why I put wolf paws on her boots instead of bear paws. Tsun is her family's patron god, even though he's dead.

Elenwen: Magnus

Okay, I hate Elenwen, but I'm not going to do her dirty and dress her badly. She's dressed as Magnus, Altmer god of Magic and the Sun, who is also said to have created the stars. He's also a god of Insight, and his main artifact is the Eye of Magnus. You can see the influence from that in the swirling patterns on her dress, and I color-picked from the artifact to color in her dress.

I wanted to give her something tall, sleek and elegant, so she's wearing a simple sheath-style gown with an open back with a drape at the bottom. Something to make her look even taller, which includes the fancy up-do and sun-ray hairpin. There's little chains over her back, with stars hanging from them, and little stars on her sleeve border. She's also wearing an eye ring, and there's a chain around the back of her neck (keeps the dress shoulders from slipping) with an eye charm in the center, like she's watching you even with her back turned. Perfect for a Thalmor agent!

The rest of her jewelry is sort of amorphous, and I like to think of it as the swirling light you see when powerful artifacts emit tendrils of magic energy. I wanted the jewelry to be gold, but it blends with her skin too much, so I changed it to silver.

I chose Magnus for her because I think she'd want to depict an Altmer rather than an Imperial god. Also, his connection with sight and eyes just fits too perfectly with her position of head of the Thalmor in Skyrim.

That's it! I hope you like the piece so far! ^_^

[avocado-writing]

Hi! In honor of Father's Day (which I happily don't have, but it doesn't matter), let's imagine that the Copy and the Reader take care of their child (any gender), who is very hyperactive and loving

sorry this is so late 💀 used this as an excuse to chat about the au @grumsens and I have where reader and copia have just, an obscene amount of kids. 1.2k words of fluff.

You hadn’t been trying to get pregnant… not the first time, anyway. It was just something which happened when two people who were obsessed with each other’s bodies fucked pretty much all the time, and agreed that they were no longer fussed about birth control. Yeah, the first time had been a fluke, but when Copia had seen how round your body had become, so swollen with life that he had put in you, he simply hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself.

Or any other appendage, for that matter.

So it came to be that, by mutual agreement, you had remained permanently pregnant for pretty much the next four years because the two of you just couldn’t get enough of making babies. Now you’re faced with the consequences: a horde of little girls, as apparently your husband was incapable of siring sons. 

They’re… a lot.

Lucia. Marcelina. Cassia. Donata. Annachiara and Fiorre, the twins to round it off (“they run in the family,” Sister Imperator had said cryptically). The Emeritus girls move in a pack and, though they are prone to bickering amongst themselves as sisters are wont to do, woe betide anyone who upsets one of them, for it brings down the wrath of the other five.

And, as a parent, trying to wrangle them is less successful than trying to wrangle cats. 

You’d never deny your husband his career, you’re exceptionally proud of him and the work he’s doing, but all of you miss him when he’s off on tour. Harmony descends whenever he is home, something which can only be grown from a father who is totally wrapped around the little finger of every single one of his daughters, leading them all to a united cause: get dad to give us absolutely anything we want.

Today has been a lot. You’d been woken by the twins jumping on your bed - because what else was six in the morning for? - and you’d managed to get them to crawl in between you for another forty minutes of rest before they were insistent it was breakfast time. Unable to deny two five-year olds who measure their tugging in horse-power, you and Copia got up, both complaining about your bad backs and errant tiny feet in the kidneys, but accepting there was to be no more resting now the girls were Up.

Copia cooked, because he’s far better at it than you are. There’s always enough milk and eggs in the fridge to make a batch of pancakes big enough for every tiny hungry mouth around the table and your husband had slung them out as if it was his satan-given duty. The others had gotten out of bed to join at the smell, Cassia with her nose in a book, Donata skittering under the table to chase a spider. She had come out of the womb more ghoul than human, that one, but to be fair that’s because technically Copia had been her birth-giver rather than you, so more Satanic magic had been involved. 

It was a long story. 

Lucia  - stepping into her role as the leader of the pack as the eldest, not something you asked for but something she gravitated to anyway as it let her boss the younger ones around a bit - had dragged Marcelina and the table had been full: full of girls vying for their parents’ attention, of you running around to make sure everyone had their preferred pancake topping, of Copia dashing to the stove every thirty seconds to make sure nothing burned.

And that was just breakfast.

The weather was nice so the group of you headed outside into the Ministry gardens, allowing the girls to run around and blow off some steam while the two of you sat in the grass (Copia affectionately leaning his head in your lap). Eventually you were both dragged into playing tag as well, though you were getting too old for running around the two of you were powerless against six sets of pleading eyes. Pack tactics at work again.

The day was not without its struggles (“PAPA, DO YOU WANT TO SEE HOW HARD I CAN KICK?!” Marcelina had screamed, and then not waited for Copia to give a response before driving her answer into his shin with her foot) but nobody was at each other’s throat too badly that day, the twins had only pulled each other’s hair once, and Donata’s bites were not skin-breaking.

Now afternoon is dripping into evening, the sun going down and the girls getting sleepy. You can hear Copia’s soft singsong voice float out from the living room as he reads them a story. You poke your head around the door and melt at what you see: he sits in the middle of the sofa in a tangle of limbs as they all attempt to find a bit of him to lean against, sleepy eyes all drawn to the page as his cadence lolls them to sleep. A tired yawn, a nuzzle into his shirt as they try and fight drifting off.

“‘No, except that Brett and I are a little worried about the dog.’ ‘Your Saint Bernard?’” Copia changes the affectations in his voice to show each new character and the girls are entranced.

“I like when you do the voices, papa,” Cassia mumbles, her eyes tearing off the page to look up at him. Copia smiles down at her.

“Well, I like doing the voices for you, principessina,” he says, and she giggles. 

“What are we reading tonight?” you ask. Copia flashes you the book cover - Cujo by Stephen King.

“It’s our favourite!” Lucia implores when you purse your lips.

“Can we get a dog?” Marcelina asks hopefully. You kiss your teeth.

“Sorry, you’re reading Cujo and the takeaway you got from that book was that you want to get a dog?”

“Or a bat! We all got our rabies shots when Donata was born!” Lucia reasons, and voices pipe up in agreement. “Papa, we can get a dog, right?”

You have to interject. You can see Copia is about to give in and say, yes, let’s go adopt one tomorrow! Such is the power of your daughters. 

“We can talk about it another day. Right now it’s time for bed.”

A chorus of groans as you and Copia scoop them off of the sofa and wrangle them into first their pyjamas and then their beds; a dozen kisses goodnight and then a dozen more after all of them decide they need to go to the bathroom just once more. Taking them outside earlier was a good idea, they all fall asleep pretty fast.

“You’re so good with them,” you sigh, leaning on Copia’s shoulder as you look in at the twins, making sure they’re fast asleep before you leave them for the night.

“Me? No, amore, you are the star. We’d fall apart without you.”

He kisses you when the two of you sit down on the sofa, a moment alone to be clutched tightly in the chaos of the house. His hand slips down to your ass and squeezes. You hum into his mouth.

“Papa Emeritus, you’re being very handsy this evening…”

“You think I can resist my beautiful wife after a day of her being perfect? Let me have you, amore mio.” He runs his lips to the shell of your ear. “Let’s make another.”

You moan and drag him down onto the sofa. 

[confuzing]

My Super secret AU were Airplane and Cucumber Bro live in the same apartment building but don't figure that out until the entire building and it's tenants get transmigrated into Proud Immortal Demon Way post realms merging.

It's super secret because the stuff that's interesting to me is the apartment residents banding together to figure shit out. If I wrote this we'd probably be 20 chapters deep before any known PIDW characters showed up, and Demon Lord Luo Binghe isn't showing up until after the retired electrician grandpa and the engineering students (apartments were near a college so there's a bunch of students in the building) have figured out how to make their own solar panels.

(Also this is secretly about giving Mu Qingfang a happy ending because his canon PIDW situation is Real Sad- he shows up at the apartment and adopts the small gaggle of med students and starts a clinic.)

(Also he might start a lil cultivation school because a bunch of the residents got brand new shiny spiritual veins when they transmigrated and they have no idea what to do with them.)

Ok I gotta stop talking about this.

[wazzuppy]

me wanting to get into elden ring vs seeing how absolutely fucking rancid the community is towards anyone who dares to ask for difficulty settings and accessibility options.

on that note: HERE is a link to abledgamers

[102ki]

you are literally streaming rn

[rosegolden13]

Princess Treatment w/ John Price

His workaholic habits do not stop after he leaves base to come home to you...

We already know he's opening up every damn door for you. He has the magical skill of knowing when doors need a push or a pull so he never fails to laugh when you pull a push door. "Tha's why you shoulda left it to me, love. Stubborn thing, you are." He'll reach over your head to push the door open for you, plopping a kiss to your hair while he does.

His masculinity does not get in the way of holding your purse for you whenever you're out together, his big bear hands wrapped around the handle of your little black purse.

He refuses to let you carry your own luggage, doesn't care if it takes him multiple trips to get both of your bags into the hotel or rental house. He'll get all exasperated if you insist on helping. "You had a long drive. Lemme handle it, pet." (even though he's the one that drove...)

There's nothing he loves more than ordering for you at a restaurant. His voice is filled with an unreasonable amount of pride when he says "And for the missus..." before telling the waiter your order.

Speaking of food, if you ever eat anything that needs cutting or even doctoring up, expect him to jump in. "Now, now, doll, you know tha's my job." He'll tsk and gently take the knife from you to cut your steak into bitesize pieces or to butter your roll. Yes, he will go as far as to bring the fork up to your lips and feed you if you don't put up a fuss.

He will absolutely pay for your manicure and then coo when you offer him your hand to show off your new nails. "Real pretty, love... Don't go chippin' 'em now. Come sit."

Price always sets up a nice place for you on the couch or bed, blanket at the ready and pillows right where you like them. "Come on now, Mrs. Price." He'll pat the spot next to him like one would for a dog. Of course, he likes it best when he can be your pillow and personal heater (that man is always warm, always) but sometimes he's got to find a way to coax his little love into his arms and away from chores.

Naturally, he will swat your hands away when you bend down to tug on your heels or tie your sneakers. He'll crouch down to place your foot on his bent knee, patting your calf firmly and leaning in to press a kiss to your ankle once he's done.

If you nick yourself while shaving, he'll level you with a disapproving stare and then insist that he do it for you next time. After all, he has plenty of experience with keeping his facial hair so tidy. "Can't have my woman hurtin' herself, now can I?" You bet your bottom dollar he's using his fancy razors and shaving creams on you, extra delicate to make sure he doesn't mar your skin.

He's terrified to smoke around you after you coughed one (1) time and now he only will take his cigars out on the back porch or in his office with the window open. If you come in, he'll snuff it out asap and usher you out of the room, shushing your protests.

I'll probably eventually add a part two cuz soft Price is everything to me hehe... Can you tell my standards are ridiculously high?? Also, does anyone have an accent writing guide for TF-141?? I am painfully American.

[bears-are-my-favourite-colour]

Alpha Soap immediately getting attached to this big omega that seemingly wants nothing to do with him. He's following him around like a stray, dropping little courting gifts outside of his quarters (he'd never invite himself into an omega's space, he's a polite alpha thank you very much) and leaving extra snacks for him while they're in the canteen.

It isn't until they've done a couple missions together, until Soap had proven himself to Ghost as being something other than a knot-headed fool blundering his way through life, that Ghost starts to return these little actions. When a hand moves into his vision, dropping off a simple chocolate bar while Soap hunches over his lunch, Soap turns back with a grin as he watches his lieutenant's retreating back.

Thus starts the back and forth flirting and gift giving, the pair becoming comfortable with the easy affections, Ghost having to pretend that Soap's showing off and joyful posturing annoys him. O!Price being kinda flappy about this alpha courting Simon, but is ultimately settled by the knowledge of how Soap's personality and skills.

Ghoap going on a mission and losing all their kit (blown up, soaked, compromised idfk) so have to make their way to the safehouse with nothing but the stuff they had on them and have to wait for a belated exfil.

Ghost going into preheat and Soap being the best little alpha, never propositioning, simply existing to make sure Simon is comfortable and feels safe. The safehouse looks a wreck, but it's okay because now Simon has a nice and secure nest that he even lets Soap into.

It's during this that Soap finds out just how affectionate The Ghost can be, he's near vibrating out of his skin as he sits between Simon's legs while the omega rubs against his neck and fusses with his hair, earns a fair few warning growls when he dares to shift away before Simon goes back to nuzzling against him.

Soap prancing about making dinner for the omega, never anything great but Simon ate it all as if it were a delicacy and that had Soap preening.

[ghouljams]

Big, scary guy and small, frilly dog is such a powerful combo. And you're completely right that Simon would be swimming in pussy. As a dog lover I would absolutely be kneeling down to greet a darling Cavalier, bombarding Simon with a million questions.

"What's her name?" "How long have you had her?" "Oh, she's so well behaved. Such a sweet girl." "She has such a nice coat, you must take good care of it." "Do you usually walk in this neighborhood? Maybe I'll see you two around!" "I swear I could just eat her up! If you're not careful I might steal her and bring her home with me."

Meanwhile, Simon is standing there looking as intimidating as ever as I fuss over his dog.

You see him walking around the neighborhood, stopping in the same shops in the evening, the same cafe at night. Always with a little copper Cavalier trotting beside him, little pink bows on her ears matching the thin pink leash that's hooked lazily around his wrist. Sometimes he has a shop bag in his other hand, sometimes not, but always the god walking beside him. Her little legs tip-tapping as fast as she can manage to keep up with his long strides.

And every evening when you pass him on your way home you stop to coo over the little dog. "Commander," he'd told you when you first stopped to scratch her tiny head. You figured it was one of those compromises that men often have with their girlfriends, "you can pick the dog but I get to name it." Choosing something that felt masculine to make up for the frou-frou dog. It didn't matter to you, it was easier to let your guard down around a man you assumed was already taken.

Crouch to scratch the dog's tiny chin, giving Ghost a nice view down your shirt. Never once thinking twice about bending over to pet her little head, or smiling at the big man in the skull printed mask.

"What a good girl you are," you coo at Commander, as she leans into your hand, "I could just eat you up, you're so sweet."

"You like sweets, pup?" Ghost rumbles, deep voice sliding thick down your spine.

"I bet you do," You squeeze her little face in your hand, "I bet daddy gets you pup cups when he goes to the cafe, doesn't he?"

"Wasn' talkin' t'the dog." You glance up at him, heat flashing over your face as you meet his eye. "Gonna keep callin' me daddy, pup, or d'you got somewhere t'be?"

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Defy Her

Toxic Sevika x Reader

Summary: Going out without your girlfriend; she hates when she can’t protect you.

Warnings: Sex: ass slapping/gripping, degradation, choking, hair pulling, strap-on, and crying (r! receiving)

A/N: GUESS WHOS OVULATINGGGGG 😛😛😛 I wrote this in 4 hours cus I had a dream abt it. (Don’t ask)

✦•┈๑⋅�� ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Fuck it.

You thought, grabbing your clothes and quickly slipping them on. Black mini skirt with a matching black crop top, your outfit was finished off with a red cropped jacket and a pair of black boots. Hair tied up into a half-up half-down style, you put on your jewelry. Long black necklaces with a few bracelets. Not to forget your dangling earrings, you made sure everything was perfect before grabbing your keys and heading out. You were finally free, able to walk out the door without your girlfriend dragging you back in.

Rule number one: you can’t go out unless Sevika agrees or goes with you.

Bullshit ass rules. They were all made to keep you latched onto your girlfriend, to keep you dependent on her. She didn’t like not being around you to keep everything in-check, make sure no one got too close, and even to prevent you from talking to anyone but her.

Your destination was The Last Drop, where Sevika, you hoped, wouldn’t be. She was probably doing some work for Silco, maybe even with Jinx trying to keep her out of trouble. Either way, you weren’t having her shit anymore. So, with a confident push on the doors, you enter the bar. You were immediately met with a crowd of people who were dancing, drinking, making out, and, most importantly, having fun.

Making your way to the bar to grab a few drinks, you looked around to find you being stared at. Up and down, either checking you out or judging you.

You decided to ignore them and sat on a stool, ordered yourself a sweet treat, and tried to forget about Sevika; for now. You ordered lemonade, getting drunk wasn’t on your list. The place was dimly lit with the telbum lights brightened it up with colourful lights. The speaker blasted upbeat music, causing everyone to dance, you silently admired the way the crowd was able to be carefree and loose. As excited you were to have some freedom, your main concern was if Sevika would find you and drag you home. Maybe yell at you or something.

Something would be fucking you senseless.

Though it wasn’t a bad idea, it sure scared you to see her angry. Ripping you open and making sure you were twitching after the first few rounds.

Sipping on your drink, you turn your attention to the man who was now shifting to sit beside you. He looked friendly enough, even though he was staring you down with those black eyes of his.

“Saw you come in, wanna dance?” His voice smooth even though it held a hint of nervousness. Hale leaned closer to you with his drunken breath. For a second you considered his invitation, dancing would be nice. But with a stranger?— who was probably just trying to get in your pants?. It felt like going behind Sevika’s back.

“I uhm.. I’m alright..” Forcing a smile, you turn your head to your drink. Your answer was simple and sweet, you hoped he’d take it and leave. At the corner of your eye, you saw him scoff. “C’mon, it’s just dancing?”

Was he fuckin’ stupid? “I said I’m good.” Was your response. You’d learned that from Sevika. Thankfully, you he fucked off. With a grumble under his breath, he walked away with heavy steps. You, yourself, grumble to yourself in annoyance before taking a few big sips and finishing your drink. Could a gal really not enjoy one night alone?

Maybe the night would be more enjoyable with Sevika. Having her glare away any men, letting you dance as you pleased? It was a nice thought. Even if she’d hover and fuss over a simple glance, you secretly wanted her to be there now.

May the universe heard your wish because as you were about to get up, you felt a tug around your waist before you were pulled against someone. “The hell are you doing here?” The familiar gruffed out words hit your ears and you realized it was your girlfriend. Her flesh arm around your waist, she tightened her grip which let you know she was upset. Maybe even pissed. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to come here alone? You deaf or something?” Sevika would groan out, her voice raising and tense. “I can handle myself, I don’t need you all the time.”

You guessed she didn’t like that answer because as her prosthetic arm hit the wooden counter with a fist she scoffed. “Don’t fuck around with me. God knows how many assholes are waiting to push a stick up your ass.” With that, she turned you around and gripped your wrist. “We’re goin’ home. End of discussion.” You clearly couldn’t say no to that, to her authoritative tone. She’d drag you home whether you liked it or not, pull you over her shoulder with her muscular arms and force you with her. Mumbling under your breath, you let her lead you away towards the exit.

An hour of freedom was all you got.

Reaching your shared apartment, Sevika locked the door behind you with a slam. Her expression irritated, she didn’t let go of your wrist. “I don’t even get to do anything. I barely go out by myself.” — “For a god damn reason.” She shot back, towering over you and making you have to look up. “I saw the way those ‘fuckers looked at you, as if you were some piece of meat.” Of course she noticed, that’s all she did. Look around and force everyone to look away. “I can’t help that? You were looking at me the same way when we started dating!” Raising your voice was a bad idea, the way Sevika’s grey eyes glared at you made you quickly fix yourself. “You’re mine. Got that? I do what the hell I want with you, no one else.” Tugging on your wrist she pulled you closer and gripped onto your hair with her mech hand. “Even lookin’ at you is a privilege.” Gasping at the tug on your hair, you let slip a shaky moan.

Her voice was low, dangerously quiet, as she leaned down to crash her lips against yours. Sucking on your bottom lip, Sevika bit down until you were sure they were bleed. Tilting your head back with her grip from your hair, her flesh arm came around to grip your ass and pull your body flush against her tense one.

If Sevika couldn’t keep everyone away from you, she would just have to keep you locked up and all to herself.

Soft whimpers left your lips as she kissed you deeply, tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. Tasting you, she found it satisfying to see you breathless and, already, vulnerable . Pulling back to see your red cheeks, she took hold of your face, squishing your cheeks together, and smirked with cockiness. “Fuckin’ whore.” Was all Sevika said before raising you and carrying you towards the bedroom. Her muscular arms then threw you— yes, threw you— onto the bed. Grunting, you give her furrowing brows. “Quit doing that, what if I hit my head?” Sevika only chuckled as she grabbed her strap. It was the largest one she had, one you could barely take halfway.

Approaching you, she tossed it beside you before ripping your clothes off. “Surprised you care more about bumpin’ your head on a wall than me ruining that hole of yours.” Voice unserious as she had you bare and on your back. “You couldn’t give a damn about the way I stretch-out your cunt. Want it so ruined I need a bigger one’a these.” Motioning to the strap, she crawled onto the bed and sitting infront of you and pulled you by your wrists. She turned you around to positionyour back to her front and your ass to her strap. Face burried your freshly done hair, she took a deep inhale. Both of you were on your knees with heavy breaths. You knew where this was headed.

With her flesh hand on your clit, she rubbed it to get the desired reaction. She succeeded when you couldn’t help but softly sigh at the teasing motion. One finger was enough to cover your bud, that’s just how big her hand was. And she took advantage of it every single time. With a bite on the back of your shoulder, she pushed her cock inside and kept it there for a good second. It was the first time she’d went all in. It left you to gasp and whimper. “Since I haven’t made myself direct with what I want, let me show you.” You braced yourself as you held your breath, heart pounding in your chest as she pinched your clit. A soft “fuck..” left your lips. “Don’t.” A hard pound hit your cunt. “Go.” Another hard pound hit with a grunt. “Out. The third pound went deeper than the first two. “Without.” You were still adjusting to the thickness when the blow hit, it caused a shaky moan to escape your lips.. “Permission.” With the last pound, she grasped onto your neck and squeezed enough to where it was hard to breathe. You could feel the pressure as your face went warm, you were red. “Got that, you dirty whore?”

Slamming into you, she went all the way in and made sure you were feeling all of it. Head tilted back with the help of Sevika’s grip, your back arched into her cock as she rubbed it against your walls. She was enjoying this, punishing you for being stubborn enough to go against her rules. “Look at you, already a slutty mess.” She was taking her anger out on you, “Tell me how much you want this cock. And don’t cum ‘til I fuckin’ tell you.” The sound of her strap making contact with your cunt was all that you could hear, all that could focus on. Phwap Phwap Phwap. You were fucking loving this.

“Sev, Baby..” You said shakily, “Don’t stop— fuckkkk, please.. it’s too good..” Your voice was strained from the grip around your neck, even moaning was difficult. “I.. I’m close.. it’s too much— it’s too fucking good.” Practically pleading your words out, you kept still for your girlfriend as she pushed into you. “Already? Can’t even last a few minutes.” Tugging at your hair and letting go of your neck, she pushed your face into the sheets and gave you the ‘back-shots’ you deserved. Head tilted to the side, you could barely handle her. “Sevika— baby, I.. I want you— holy—make me cum…” Words a breathy moan, you groan out at every sensation that rose from your drenched pussy. Sevika’s flesh hand came to play with your pulsing clit, pinching and rubbing it like some toy. “Yeah?.. you want me, baby? You want me like the little slut y’are?” Hips rolling deep blows into your cunt, you were holding on for life. Hands gripping the sheets in order to ground yourself as you bit onto your lip, causing them to swell up.

Sevika fucked you like a sex toy, never slowing her pace and hitting all the juicy spots that got you crying out. Tears ran down your mascara smeared cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure. Your girlfriend didn’t seem to care over your sobbing, because she only grew rougher. Evident in the way she slapped your ass multiple times with her heavy hands and left behind red handprints. You whined everytime. “Hope you’ve got your shit together, ‘cause you were a dumbass for going to that shitty bar without me.” Legs twitching, your voice was beginning to strain from all the moaning you were doing. All the humms and whimpers were getting to you. “I’m close.. please— please I need you..” You’d breath out, shutting your eyes and letting every sensation soak in. “I’ll.. I’ll listen— please, baby I won’t.. won’t go out. Alright?” You were desperate for the orgasm pooling in your core, which needed to escape. Even your voice was cracking, from, both, moaning so much and and crying. “Let me cum, I.. I can’t hold it in..” Sevika, as usual, was memorizing ever moan, ever twitch, and every reaction that you gave. The slight tremble in your hands, the quiet whimpers you let out at every touch, and the heavy breathing. She loved it all.

“Cum for me, baby.” Was your girlfriend’s ‘yes’. And cum you did. Closing your legs you fell onto your chest and cried out at the intensity of the pressure your body was releasing. Hips writhing, legs shaking , and body heating up, your face was burried into cool sheets as you whimpered from the aftermath. “I just fucked the prettiest slut in Zaun.” Sevika proudly gruffed out, slapping your ass as she lowered herself. Knees on either side of the back of your thigh she brushed your soft hair aside before pressing hot kisses on your back, her strap rubbing against your back as she did so. Coming back from your orgasm, you collect your breath. “So.. you know other.. pretty sluts?” You murmured, eyes fluttering with the softness of her lips. Sevika only chuckled with amusement. “No, I don’t. Even if I did, you’d be the only slut I’d wanna see like this.” Her words a heartfelt scoff as she rubbed soothing circles on your back with her big palms.

“I’m still mad at you.” Sevika brought up, lips grazing the back of your neck before she bit down and claimed you. “I know..”— “Don’t do that shit again. Next time I won’t fuck you like this.” You knew what that meant.

Before, when the two of you started dating, she’d often ignore you, make you feel like shit, everytime you disobeyed her. But, luckily, communication helped and she stopped. But, would she really do it again? Start ignoring you?

“Don’t..” You whispered out, opening your heavy eyes as Sevika bit around your body. Shoulder, neck, arms, she wanted to mark you everywhere. You could only hold your breath when she did so, giving her the chance to do whatever she needed. “I don’t want you to ignore me..” And maybe your words sounded too.. sombre because, afterwards, Sevika pulled back and cleared your face from any strands of your disheveled hair and met your eyes. Her gaze stared into yours as she ran her hand over your flushed cheek and wiped off your smeared mascara. “You already told me not to.” Tone softened, she shifted to kiss your reddened lips. “I listen, unlike your stubborn ass.” You scoff at her response, “I do listen! You just make it hard to.”

With your sassy response, she laid down beside you and took off her strap. Throwing it somewhere onto the floor bedroom her mech arm came to wrap around your body. With another press on your lips, that you reciprocated with, she smirked out a soft…

“I’m pretty confident whatever I say is right.”— “Yeah, sure.” You shot back, grinning at her silent forgiveness.

[beloveds-embrace]

(Lavender Marriage au: Poly 141 x married reader where they don’t know you and your gay bestfriend married just for the Benefits and they see your husband/bestfriend “cheating” on you)

Your parents are traditional and are pressing you for marriage. Your bestfriend, on the other hand, is gay and in a secret relationship and the heir of a successful family business, but his parents are homophobic.

In hindsight, it’s extremely easy for the both of you to decide to get married and move far away, buying a nice plot of land and a big enough house to have rooms for you, for your husband and his boyfriend, and for you and your husband for whenever the parents decide to visit.

Honestly, the townspeople suck; you don’t trust any of them not to snitch or to not be spies, so unfortunately you keep yourself happy with toys you order with your happy bestfriend’s money and flash that ring on your finger often enough no one ever questions your husband’s many, many trips.

You don’t mind much; a big, comfy house where you have everything you could want, no worried, far away from your parents. All you have to do is keep up the pretense of being a dutiful, happy wife, and everything will be well.

Until the abandoned house next to yours is bought by four of the most handsome military men you think you’ve ever seen. You don’t know they’ve bought it and are renovating it themselves until Kyle comes over to ask for a few glasses of water-

“Sorry to bother you, Ma’am. We’ve just begun renovations and the plumbing’s not fixed it.”

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to call him handsome while you fetch him some icy cold water.

The other men are just as handsome too- calling you Ma’am, bonnie, sweetheart in those sexy british and scottish accents. Too bad, they are very respectful. For once, that ring on your finger is getting in your way.

So unfortunately, you resign yourself to waving to them whenever you see them, and spying on them from your porch, lemonade in hand and ogling those handy muscles glistening from sweat and working hard.

(They like you, too. So much. You look fucking gorgeous to them, all pretty sundresses and delicate jewelry and so sweetly fussing over them while they work, bringing them cookies and sandwiches and drinks and your pretty eyes just glancing at them through your lashes. You make the renovations so much harder because they have to take breaks.

But you are taken, the ring a proof of that, and you seem quite content with your life. They meet your husband too and for all that they wish he wasn’t there, they can see that you two are happy.

Until they see your husband kissing another man. In your home. Cheating on you.

And suddenly, they know they have a chance.)

Part two

[clockwayswrites]

Birds birbs birbritch - Part 29

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

“Well, there’s the my horde of children,” Bruce said, glanced to Steph, and added, “and otherwise.”

“Hi B,” Steph said with a large smile that was just a little too much tooth, “and hi Danny!”

“Hello Stephanie,” Danny said. His wings were pulled tight against his back, as if he could hide them from view.

He couldn’t.

“Sorry B,” Dick chirped with his most innocent smile, “we were in the middle of a Mario Kart battle and you know how those can get!”

“At least tell me nothing is broken,” Bruce said, sounding entirely resigned about it all.

“Nothing is broken. Yet.”

“Well… good enough, I suppose.” Bruce said. “Though everyone had better sit though before Alfred comes in and fusses.”

“Too late, Master Bruce,” Alfred drawled as he came into the room with serving tray in hand.

They all appropriately scrambled for seats.

What with Danny being there, the normal seating (not that it always stayed exactly the same) was thrown into complete disarray. Mostly this was because Damian insisted on sitting next to Danny while Cass took the seat across from him and Tim next to her. Dick tried to stuff back him smile, but Jason caught it and rolled his eyes at his brother.

Still, it was sort of nice, in a weird way like when big cats have a service dog, to see Damian having someone out of the family that he felt the need to look over and protect. The suddenness of it all was what bothered Jason. Cass meets the guy and he’s invited to the ballet. Tim sleeps in his office. Damian wants to protect him. Even Bruce was at ease earlier with Danny sleeping on his lap. It was just like Danny belong there in with the rest of their family.

Jason didn’t trust it.

He especially didn’t trust it because it seemed to be having an effect on him too. He hadn’t snooped nearly as much as he could have in Danny’s apartment. Hell, the revelations down in the Cave that they had just had didn’t bother him as much as they should have.

Jason looked across the table to Duke, who was squinting a little at Danny. Jason kicked Duke lightly under the table and tilted his head in question.

Duke rolled his eyes, but pulled out his phone and sent: He’s got, like, an aura about him.

Jason frowned, typing back quickly: Did he at the ballet?

Duke gave a little shrug, but shook his head.

Well, that was very interesting. Jason wished that Duke had seen Danny when he was in full bird form so that they could have had a full comparison, but this was something at least. Danny had admitted that he was a Meta, but was he a meta like Wally was or more like Duke or even Kori? The odd language certainly pointed more towards Duke or Kori.

Dick nudged Jason with his pointy elbow. When Jason glared at him, Dick just looked pointedly down at Jason’s plate and back up.

‘Eat,’ he mouthed.

Jason rolled his eyes, but dug into the meal. It was a vegetarian pasta of some sort. Salad and garlic bread were also on the table. Basically a nice, carb heavy meal to have after a long, hard day. Jason had to wonder if Alfred would even let any of them out tonight. None of the ‘kids’ for sure. Tim, Damian, and Steph were all certain to be grounded. Dick, Jason, and Cass could probably make a good argument to go out and get started on this Mad Hater thing, but Cass might prefer to stay close. Jason couldn’t really blame her for that if she did. She deserved to get to be close to her family.

Jason caught Dick’s gaze again, raising a curious brow with a little head motion down towards the Cave. Approximately.

Dick nodded, a seriousness in his eyes.

Okay, guess they had a plan.

-

Bruce found them as they were suiting up. He leaned against the Batcomputer and watched as Dick and Jason bickered and hindered each other actually being able to get dressed for patrol. It was good to see them able to be brothers like that again. Therapy with Harley had really been helping Jason and Bruce knew that Dick was seeing someone, even if he hadn’t pried into who. Bruce didn’t think it was fair too when it had taken him as long to start seeing help.

It was something he wish he had done far earlier.

Had pushed for all of them to do earlier.

“What are you brooding about over there, old man?” Jason called out. He’d finally wrestled his gloves back from Dick and was pulling them on.

“I can just be somewhere without brooding,” Bruce said.

Bruce sighed. “I was thinking how proud I am of both of you for making good of the therapy that you’ve been doing.”

There was a long silence before Jason mumbled ‘sap’ and ducked his head. Dick just grinned back, a faint blush on his cheeks. As old as they two were, they were still his kids.

“If I stay in tonight, will you two be fine out there?”

“Doubting us?” Jason asked. His voice changed part way through as he put on his mask and the modulation kicked in.

“Never,” Bruce said, which seemed to make Jason freeze again. “Just asking you want me out there as back up.”

“Stay in with the others,” Dick said with a little shake of his head. “I know they’ve brushed it off, but Dami and Tim have still been through a rough day. And Danny too. You should be around if anyone has issues in the night.”

“Let us go out and start investigating,” Hood added. Even with the mask, here was a softness to his voice. “We’ve got this.”

Bruce nodded. He knew they did. “I’ll keep a comm if you need me.”

“Sure. Just make sure to get some rest, old man,” Jason said and headed towards the bikes. Nightwing followed with a little wave.

Bruce stayed in the Cave until they were gone and then grabbed a communicator to slide into his ear, just in case.

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[rafelandia]

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers. 

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

//

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times. 

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife. 

Good. She was sleeping. 

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely. 

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door. 

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so. 

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.” 

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list. 

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister. 

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.” 

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this? 

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands. 

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

//

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his. 

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face. 

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now. 

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did. 

With two babies.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Hello love!! How are you doing? 💕

I LOVE your works so much!! You are so amazing and talented!! I wanted to thank you for writing the 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cursed technique Nanami fic, and especially not judging me for it 🫶🏽. I don’t know you but you seem like such a nice and cool person, with that being said… I was thinking about a fic I saw where Saturo Gojo got his wisdom teeth removed and he falls in love with you over again and I thought that would ADORABLE but with Kento 😭 (also I can’t remember who wrote the fic to give credit sorry) So like yeah Nanami would get his wisdom teeth removed and you’d take care of him and he would be such a charming man (he already is) but like just the most fluff thing he’d be like “you’re a very beautiful nurse” “I’m not a nurse but thank you” you feel me? Anyways that was it lol

Much love and take care!! 💗💗

(I don’t know what anon is 😅 is it like your followers cause I see request and people ask if they can be added as anon and I’m like so confused)

You’re my…. my wife?

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, established relationship, crack, fluff, suggestive at the end.

An: Hey Anon! Tysm for requesting again. I’m glad you liked the freaky energy fic!! Also, ofc I’ll never judge you for any fic idea (as long as it’s not like straight up deplorable with nasty kinks).

I hope it’s okay, but I changed this fic idea a little because I fear it was a bit too close to the original creator’s idea, and I don’t want to encroach on their idea. However, I hope the vibes are still there that you wanted!!

Your normally strong, doting, intelligent husband has been reduced to a confused mess. Lying in the bed in the sterile infirmary, Shoko carefully monitors his vitals while Satoru recites exactly how it all happened for the nth time.

Your loving, sweet, charming husband was hit with a very specific cursed technique while he was out on a mission with Gojo. Luckily, he was physically unharmed and mostly mentally unharmed as well… except the cursed technique is one that messes with the memory.

The curse didn’t just want to kill Nanami; it wanted to break him. The curse robbed Nanami of his memory of his most precious moments: the one’s that included you.

His hazel eyes scanned the room, wondering why everyone was making such a big fuss over him. He was fine - really.

You sat beside his hospital bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Shoko said that his mind may be a bit fragile after having such a crucial part of his memory tampered with.

When his hazel eyes met yours, Nanami stared at you for a moment before shifting in his bed slightly. He looked to be uncomfortable with your sheer presence, which only broke your heart more.

“Were you hit with the cursed technique too?” He finally speaks, looking over at you with a bit of a confused look. He was really trying to piece together why you were here with him.

“Oh, um… no..” You quietly respond with a forced smile. Your heart longed for your husband, and he was right here but he wasn’t your husband.

“Forgive me… Are you Shoko’s apprentice..?” He tries once again to remember. He’s seen your face before. Maybe in a different lifetime.

Satoru and Shoko are silent as they both witness what’s going on between you and Nanami. Holding their breaths, they’re hopeful that he’ll regain his memory at some point. The curse couldn’t just extract memories. As Shoko explained it, the curse probably just kept the memories hidden from Nanami. Your husband will probably slowly start to remember you over time.

“No… I’m not Shoko’s apprentice.” You politely answer again. As bittersweet as this is, it’s certainly a cute scene to see Kento trying to make conversation with you.

“Hm.” He hums to himself quietly before he gazes at you again. His hand combs through his hair, trying to fix it up from lying in the hospital bed, and Satoru quietly snickers.

“Trying to look good for her, Nanamin?” He teases lightheartedly, earning a death glare from your husband. You softly giggle too, realizing what’s going on. Your poor husband isn’t uncomfortable with your presence. He’s nervous.

“Don’t be crude, Satoru. There’s a lady in the room.” He huffs, shaking his head at Satoru’s audacity.

“Aww, thank you, Nanami.” Shoko grins, subtly playing along with Satoru’s tactic.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Nanami responds flatly before his eyes shift to you in another “secretive” glance, except everyone notices how he keeps looking at you. Your husband can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“I.. apologize for being a bit forward, but do you think we could…” His eyes flicker down to the wedding band that’s proudly sat upon your finger. His face subtly drops to a disappointed look. “Ah, I see. forget what I was saying.”

Shoko and Satoru are nearly losing it. The irony that Nanami is disappointed that he can’t ask you out because you’re married to him is hilarious. You give them a look, and they both quickly excuse themselves from the room, so they can go laugh together.

Once the two are finally out of the room, you smile softly before placing your hand over your husband’s, using your thumb to gently stroke the back of his hand. He looks at you with an unsure look, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t like you touching another man like that…” He mutters quietly, causing you to softly giggle.

“Well, it’s a good thing I am your wife.” You finally reveal to him, unable to keep the secret any longer.

Nanami’s eyes widen, and he looks at you with sparkling eyes but also utter confusion written all over his face. His heart is racing in his chest. The heart monitor starts to beep at a more pressured pace. The pretty woman that has been sitting next to him is his wife…?

“You’re my… my wife?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement before lacing your fingers with his. Your wedding band rubs against his. Both of the gems were cut from the same diamond. His eyes then focus on the joining of your hands, and he notices it too. “We’ve been married for a few years now.” You explain in a calm tone, trying to ease him into the idea of it all.

“I… I’m sorry… I don’t-“ Nanami is rarely off kilter like this, but he’s just trying to wrap his head around it all. You’re his wife… You’re his wife. “I’m sorry- I just can’t seem to remember…”

“It’s okay, Ken. Take your time.” You encourage as you rub on his hand gently.

His eyes fall to his lap, and a small smile curls on his lips. He may not completely comprehend what’s going on, but he knows in his very soul that he’s the luckiest man alive because you’re his wife.

Watching Ken fall in love with you all over again and rediscover all his daily pleasures was a treat. He slowly regained his memory over time: prompted by his senses randomly picking up on familiar sighs, smells, or even tastes.

Ken didn’t only fall in love with you all over again. He fell in love with the life he cultivated with you again. He found himself laughing a bit harder. He squeezed you a bit tighter. He lounged in bed for an extra ten minutes in the morning time to bask in your presence.

Oh, and that’s not to mention the literal tears he cried the first time he felt your cherished cunt after the incident. The way you squeezed around him so intensely… the way it’s so fucking wet — greedily sucking him in… Goddamn, he’s so lucky to have you.

[popcornpoppypop]

I'm Glad You Stayed

Summary: Jack Abbot x Single Mom! Reader: A companion piece to the Like Me Series. Matt is graduating and you and Jack are a mess. Matt has a surprise up his sleeve.

Warnings: Just tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I saw a tiktok where similar events to this fic happen and I couldn't stop myself. Plus, I think I've been mean enough to these three for the time being.

“I still don’t know why I have to wear a tie if my robe is going to cover everything.” Matt rolled his eyes as Jack fixed the knot of the fabric.

“You’re supposed to dress up for the big moments. Don’t ask me why.” Jack shrugged.

“I hate ties.” Matt grumbled as he tried to loosen it again. Jack smacked his hands away.

“Your mother wants you to look nice. So, nice we will look.” Jack nodded as he turned to look in the mirror and make sure his tie looked okay.

“Oh, my handsome boys.” You came into Matt’s room, already misty-eyed.

“Please, the crying, Mom.” Matt cringed.

“It ain’t gonna stop today.” Jack chuckled.

“You look so nice. I can’t believe you’re graduating already.” You shook your head as you cupped Matt’s face in your hand.

“Don’t cry on him too much, Honey. You’ll stain the shirt.” Jack kissed your cheek as you smacked his chest.

“I’m just so proud of you, Matty.” You smiled.

“Thanks, Mom.” He smiled. “We need to get going, though. It’s a bad look for the valedictorian to be late.” He said, grabbing his garment bag with his cap and gown and running downstairs.

“I am not making it through today.” You sighed.

“You’ll be okay. It’s part of the process, letting go.” Jack wrapped an arm around you.

“It feels like we should have more time.” You said, heading downstairs.

“Never would be enough.” Jack followed.

The school was crowded with parents with red eyes giving last-minute advice to the graduates. There was an air of excitement and anxiety for the future. The students felt like the world was theirs, and the parents felt like they were losing everything.

Jack was straightening the cords on Matt’s shoulders; you were making sure it was wrinkle-free. Matt had surrendered to being fussed over.

“Jack! Y/N!” Robby’s voice caught your attention. You watched as he dodged students running around and siblings chasing after them.

“Robby!” Matt jogged up to him and hugged him. “I thought you weren’t going to make it?”

“Miss this!? Never! I made sure I got it covered. Dana’s around here somewhere, too. We’re taping it for everyone else.” Robby smiled.

“You know they have live links for this stuff nowadays.” Jack chuckled. “You’re aging yourself there, brother.”

“Leave him be.” You shoved Jack’s shoulder.

“That would be why Mohan laughed at me.” Robby nodded.

“I got to get in there. You're coming to the party, right?” Matt smiled.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Robby patted him on the back.

“No crazy stunts, right?” You asked as you fussed over his cap.

“None. I swear. Just my speech. Try not to dehydrate yourself.” Matt kissed your cheek.

“I brought a bag of fluids to hook her up to just in case.” Jack smirked.

“See you once I’m a graduate, I guess!” He beamed as he ran off. You hooked your arm around Jack’s.

“You two are going to be a mess.” Robby chuckled as he walked toward the building.

“He’s so excited. I’m terrified.” You sighed.

“Part of the whole parent thing, or so I hear.” Jack walked you in.

The kids all filed in, the music just a touch too loud. The principal gave a welcome speech that felt like he did it every year and never changed it. The degrees started being handed out.

“It’s going to be a while until we see him.” Jack sighed. You pulled out your phone, doing your best to be sly.

“I don’t know, might not be that long.” You smirked.

“Jennifer Marie Aarons, Kyle Lucas Abbey, Matthew William Abbot,” the announcer’s voice rang out.

Jack looked to you, confused, unsure if he had heard correctly.

“What?” His voice shocked and soft.

“He got it all changed a few weeks ago.” You said, the tears falling freely as you watched your son walk across the stage.

“Yeah, Matty!” Jack leapt up, shouting his pride for his son. The tears were obvious.

Matt turned to where you and Jack stood, giving a wave and pumping his fist in the air. Jack sat down and gathered you in his arms.

“You’ve been his dad the whole time, Jack. That’s your son.” You said, holding his face in your hands.

“I’ve loved him through all of it.” He kissed you.

The lists of names dwindled and the kids were sat with their diplomas. You were readying yourself for Matt’s speech, knowing full well that you would not be able to keep it together at all. Matt had not let anyone see his speech. He kept saying it was his gift and you don’t open gifts early.

“Please welcome our Valedictorian, Matthew Abbot.” The principal handed the podium to Matt. Jack’s breath caught at the declaration of his name again.

“Hello. Thank you for sitting through the slog of everyone else’s children for the one photo op of yours. I promise to keep this short.” Matt smiled; the audience chuckled. “High school is never the easiest time in life. Puberty, dating and exams all come crashing down at the same time. Some handle it better than others, but we all inevitably survive. The only way for us to survive is to lean on those that care about us. Our parents put up with all of our attitudes and breakups and breakdowns. In my case, my parents not only had to deal with a hormonal teenager, but a teenager who was traumatized, who lost a limb, and was still trying to figure out who they were. I’m lucky that I have the parents I do. They are both doctors, both trying to make the world a better place. They knew how to care for my wounds, physical and emotional. My mom held our family together as our world came crashing down. Her strength is something to marvel at.” Matt’s voice started to crack. You were in pieces.

“My father, one of my fathers, had it worse than most. He’s an amputee himself, and knew the pain and struggle I would face. He helped me to understand what I was facing. I was not kind to him during my recovery. A recovery that was long and hard, but only made possible because of my father and the efforts of his friends and colleagues at Pittsburg Trauma Medical Center. Colleagues like Dr. Michael Robinavtich and Nurse Dana Evans who helped save my life. I started my healing thinking anger was the only way to survive, and he bore the brunt of it. He never flinched, never batted an eye at my screaming at him. He never left. He was always there. His kindness, grace, and patience is something I will always strive to emulate. He’s the best man I know. I wouldn’t be up here giving this speech without him.” Jack’s hand held yours tightly as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

“The world is a scary place, I know that more than most. I know that fear can’t lead how you live. We are given a great opportunity to live our lives how we want. I plan to lead a life filled with hard work, happiness and kindness. I plan to do my best to follow in my parents' footsteps and make this world a better place. I urge my fellow graduates to find what you do that makes the world better and give everything you can to it. Go into the world with excitement and when you can, try to be patient. Thank you.” Matt smiled as he left the podium. You and Jack were on your feet, applauding and crying. The audience clapped for his speech and you heard the distinct yell of Robby and Dana from the stands.

“We did alright, I think.” You smiled up to Jack. He looked down to you, his face glowing with pride as he wrapped you in his arms.

“Yeah, we did alright.” His rough voice making you tear up again.

They finally released everyone to collect their kids after everyone had gathered their caps from the ground. Friends were hugging each other and tears were being shed.

“Mom! Jack!” Matt waved his hand over the crowd. You and Jack ran over to him, gathering him up in your arms.

“That was a beautiful speech, baby.” You cried. “You did so well.” You pulled away and looked up at him. He didn’t look like a boy today, he looked ready for the world. It made your heart fall to your stomach.

“Thanks. Did you like your surprise, Jack?” Matt chuckled as he looked over at the tear streaked face of his father.

“Second best gift I’ve ever gotten, you having my name.” Jack smiled.

“Second!? What the hell was the first?” Matt scoffed.

“Getting to help raise you.” He pulled Matt into his arms, giving a hard hug. Matt clung onto him, burying his face in Jack’s neck.

“Let’s go to the party. I need a drink if I’m getting through the rest of today.” You chuckled.

“Can I have a drink?” Matt asked.

“Absolutely not.” You smacked his arm. Jack leaned around you and mouthed one beer to Matt, making him giggle.

“You two aren’t slick!” You scoff. Your family made their way out of the building, the lawn covered in tissues and families hugging.

“Hey! Abbots!” Robby’s voice cut through the crowd.

“Oh, Matt! That was so good, darlin’.” Dana ran up and pulled him into a tight hug.

“How’d you two handle all that?” Robby chuckled.

“Don’t let him say anything, he cried too.” Dana chuckled.

“You cried?” Matt chuckled.

“Real men cry, Matty. I am but a man.” Robby chuckled as he hugged him.

Matt’s graduation party was filled with family wishing him well and his friends getting ready for their futures. There was laughter and happy tears and dreams shared. It was late in the evening when all the guests had finally left.

“You boys make sure to put that fire out when your done.” You sigh as you get up.

“You going to bed?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, all that crying took it out of me.” You chuckled. “Plus we’ve got to finish packing tomorrow.” You sighed as you kissed Matt’s forehead.

“I’ll be up soon.” Jack kissed you.

“You take your time, it’s okay. No more than one beer, please.” You gave him a bemused look.

“Promise.” Jack chuckled as he got up and pulled two bottles out of the cooler.

“You were serious?” Matt excitedly sat up in his chair.

“I was drinking shots of whiskey from my friend's flask behind the gas station at your age. I think one beer at graduation won’t kill you.” Jack laughed as he handed the bottle to him.

“I’m not looking forward to packing tomorrow. Mom is going to cry all over me.” Matt laughed.

“Take it easy on her. You’re her baby, and you’re leaving. It’s hard, letting go.” Jack sipped his beer.

“Yeah. You’re doing okay, though.” Matt sipped his beer with a slight grimace.

“Oh, I’m not. I just need to be stable enough to keep your mom together. I know today felt like the official declaration that you’re my son. But you’ve been my son to me since the day we met.” Jack sighed, looking at the fire.

“If I could go back, I’d tell myself to be better to you.” Matt shook his head.

“Don’t be upset with how you handled the past. Nothing you can do about it now. We found our way and that’s what matters. I was never leaving, Matt. This family is all that matters to me.” Jack looked up at his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I am so proud of who you are. You’re a good person and you’re going to get even better.”

“I’m really glad you stayed. I’m going to miss you.” Matt wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“Me too.” Jack cleared his throat. “I know college is going to be busy and you’re going to want to focus on school and having fun, but don’t forget to call us every once in a while.  We’ll worry.”

“I promise. I’ll be back for Thanksgiving, it’ll fly by.” Matt nodded.

“Yeah. Don’t go too crazy over the summer. I don’t want you bringing a girl home knocked up, I will kick your ass.” Jack scolded.

“Oh my god! I’m not even going to say anything to that!” Matt laughed.

“I love you, Matty.” Jack smiled.

“I love you too.”