#MAYA HAWKE THE THINGS I WOULD DO FOR YOU

[waterberry-strawmelon]

i’m so sorry but if you watch stranger things and you actually actually for real genuinely think that the duffer brothers have been secretly dropping hints that Mike is bi and actually always loved Will... get help.

[sun-marie]

on the topic of ocs, here's a simple but fun oc question: do your ocs let themselves cry?

[brainjuicey]

money is the only way to escape being powerless in the system, money is the only way you can buy your way out, but you better pray you never run out of money

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎThe Heir౨ৎ꣑ৎ

(requested)(@kayleigh--23 <3) [fem reader] contains: pregnancy angst, arranged marriage, pressure to become pregnant. pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: You thought being married to Coriolanus Snow would be enough, but when there is pressure on the two of you to have a child, the events that follow are life changing. author’s note: Oh I do adore pregnancy angst. Another take on the arranged marriage trope, please enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

"...an heir."

You could barely hear the words through the door. Your husband of one and a half years and an old Snow family friend, a man called Mr. Vesta, had disappeared into his study an hour ago and they hadn't allowed you in. It had sounded important, and you couldn't help it, you needed to know what it was. Especially after you'd heard your name mentioned more than once.

With one ear to the door, you'd caught bits and pieces of the conversation. None of it made sense in your mind, this new bit of information least of all.

Coriolanus Snow was the least objectionable option when it came to marriage. Not that you'd had a choice at all in the matter, but for your own peace of mind you pretended. You pretended it hadn't been a strategic political move on his part to marry someone from your family. You pretended Mr. Vesta wasn't overbearingly and old fashioned-ly invested in the image the two of you presented as a married couple.

The goal was to make him president. You knew that much. And Mr. Vesta, as well as having known Coriolanus his entire life, had experience in running for office. But you knew very little else. Politics in Panem were a mystery to you, and at times they could be archaic. At least, the things everyone wanted you to do were.

The dresses you had to wear, the people you were seen with, how you acted. Hell, the arranged marriage itself seemed that way to you. But this was how it was done. Your own mother had married your father for similar reasons, though her situation had nothing to do with politics, only social gain. Yours was both.

You went into the marriage with a positive attitude. This will be what you make of it, you'd been told. You figured if you walked in with a positive attitude and determination it would work out the best it could.

But then you met your husband to be.

He was handsome but cold. Charming but manipulative. Attentive at times but distant at most. Every good thing about him was punctuated by a flaw. He'd make a good politician, you'd noted.

The wedding was a blur of photographers and fed lines. He'd barely acknowledged you, and you knew every look, every touch was false. It cheapened the whole experience for you, and a resentment built up inside you.

At least after the wedding night he'd allowed separate bedrooms.

Maybe you'd have felt guilty about your feelings toward him if he'd shown any sign of fondness toward you. But he didn't. He ignored you most days, except when he needed your influence or your image or your body.

Which is why now, in the present, you hardly worried about the consequences of eavesdropping. If they were talking about you in there, you deserved to know.

"...bring her in..."

Forgetting your confidence, you scurried away as quietly as you could, returning to the sitting room, where you'd last been spotted by them. Picking up a book, you pretended to read until Mr. Vesta, an older man with a beard, came in and said that your presence was required in the study.

Ignoring the way he'd spoken to you in your own home, you followed him back through the study doors, nodding at everyone in the room before your eyes moved to your husband.

Coriolanus was sitting behind his desk, a look of discontentment on his face. What had they been talking about in here? You moved to his side automatically. He may have not been your number one pick, but he was the safest person in the room for you to stand by.

Putting your hand on the back of his chair, you looked between them. "What did you need from me?"

"We're here to discuss a proposition," Mr. Vesta said, looking entirely too comfortable. He nodded at your husband. "Snow?"

Coriolanus took in an almost frustrated breath and turned up to you. He held eye contact with you for a moment before speaking. "It has been suggested that we..." he inhaled through his nose. "...produce an heir."

You blinked in surprise, doing a double take. When you looked at the other man, you could see that this wasn't a joke. They were serious.

"...No," you said in disbelief, looking back at your husband. "This was never part of the arrangement."

"Things change," Mr. Vesta said, giving you a pointed look. "It is imperative that you produce an heir by the end of the year. A male heir."

That sentence was so offensive to you that you had to look away for a moment. When you gathered your manners back, you said, "Why is this suddenly so important? Isn't us being married enough?"

"Coriolanus is the last of the Snow name," Mr. Vesta said, seeming to think he was providing an explanation. "It would have to happen eventually. In the best interest of keeping the old family names around."

"I don't see how that serves your interests," you said stiffly, and Coriolanus grabbed your hand, squeezing it as a warning, the cool of his ring pressing into your skin.

"It was of the utmost importance to Crassus that I, specifically, see this through," the bearded man said in stern tones. "He hoped his son would be able to carry it out on his own-" he gave Coriolanus his own pointed look- "but since he has not, it was time for me to step in. Not to mention that having a son would increase political gains greatly. Seeing that an old family is still strong."

You were dazed. It all felt so ridiculous to you. Of all the things they'd made you do for this role, this had to be the worst. They were asking you to not just sleep with a man you hated, but to bear his child. And Coriolanus himself looked less than happy about it.

"Within the year," Mr. Vesta repeated, and he stood up. "Both your image and your obligations to your family depend on it." He nodded stiffly at you, then left. You never got the impression that Mr. Vesta was all that fond of you. He didn't see you as a person, more as a machine that broke now and then but was ultimately served its' purpose.

Once he was gone, you turned to Coriolanus, your expression horrified. "You're not seriously thinking about this are you?"

"We don't have a choice," he said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Yes we do," you protested, kneeling by his chair, grasping the arm. You were trying to look him in the eye, but he was avoiding you. "We're already married. Your image is intact-"

"But my family isn't," he said sharply, turning suddenly to look at you. "You don't understand. I have a responsibility to continue the line and Vesta reminded me of that." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. "I apologize that I didn't disclose this before but it's not optional."

"Coriolanus-"

"You think I want to do this?" His voice was irritated, and he stood up suddenly. You did too, surprised.

"No, but-"

"We have to," he said angrily, pacing. "I don't want to do it either but there are no other options. I need Vesta's support, and unfortunately that comes with the wishes of my late father."

You were silent, tears pricking your eyes as you realized this was really going to have to happen. Scoffing in disbelief and trying to hide your emotion, you buried your face in your hands.

He sighed, and you heard him move closer to you, his polished shoes making a distinct sound on the hardwood floor. "Sweetheart...I'm sorry. I am. But you're my wife. You know that means fulfilling certain...obligations."

Coriolanus took your hands in his, removing them from your face. "We'll make the process as quick as possible, okay?"

When you nodded, there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "That's a good girl. The sooner you're pregnant the sooner it'll be over with."

It was terrifying how well Coriolanus knew himself.

The domineering persona he'd built up when entering the political game may as well have become him. It was a skill he'd honed- the art of pretend.

But every thorn had its flower.

You.

Before meeting you he had high hopes for marriage. He'd hoped you'd be tolerable to look at, decent in conversation, with half a brain. Someone who'd please him, but nothing more.

But you were far beyond that.

Upon your first meeting he knew he was doomed. You were extraordinarily beautiful, with a pretty laugh. And so clever. You'd discussed literature and art so naturally, easy as breathing. Within the first hour of knowing you he knew he could fall deeply, madly in love with you.

And therein laid the problem.

Love was not the goal. In fact, love strayed so far from the goal that it was almost the opposite. If Coriolanus fell in love with you, it would ruin him. His mind, his soul, his pursuits. He'd gone to Vesta afterward and asked if there was anyone else, anyone at all. Surely there was some other girl who was less...enticing, but still had good connections.

Vesta hadn't seen a problem with the arrangement. He'd chided Coriolanus for it. He had the most sought-after woman in the Capitol. Your social status would make him more favorable in the eyes of voters, as would seeing him in love. Seeing no other options, Coriolanus had agreed.

To marrying you, not being in love.

He'd endured the game, accompanying you to dinners and galas, and going through with the wedding, all the while keeping you at arm's length. Coriolanus resolved that the only way to keep himself from falling in love was distance. And distance he maintained.

Except for at public events, he avoided you. Occasionally, he'd beckon you to his bed, whenever he needed to relieve some stress or tension, but that was the extent of it. He couldn't help himself- you were just so perfect. And you were his wife after all.

No matter how he justified his actions, it still felt wrong.

With Vesta's newest demand Coriolanus felt his control over the situation slipping. The old man didn't know what he was asking of him. Honestly how could he have, but it was still frustrating. He was asking them to produce a child as casually as one would ask a favor.

The worst part was seeing how distraught you were over it. A bit of his heart had warmed at seeing how you'd come to stand by his side but it was squashed quickly by what he had to tell you.

An heir. And not just an heir, a son.

Coriolanus could have strangled Vesta. It was ridiculous how invested he was in such private affairs. But his father's old friend was experienced in an area he desperately needed help in: politics. So, he had no choice but to accept.

Seeing you on the verge of tears had nearly broken him. He allowed himself to comfort you, just a little, convincing himself that that was what any husband would do, even if he didn't love his wife, which Coriolanus certainly didn't.

You fell pregnant quickly, which he was thankful for. For his sake but surprisingly, more for yours.

Naturally, he kept close tabs on you while still trying to maintain the distance he'd determined was the best solution for the situation. Reports were delivered to him daily.

You were quiet most days, hardly speaking to anyone. He felt guilt over that. Vesta and their public relations team had determined that for the first bit of pregnancy it was best for the two of you to stay out of the spotlight. That meant you were hardly able to leave. And with his insistence on distance, well...it was inevitable that you'd be lonely.

As the months progressed, his reports contained more concerning information. You were losing weight at an alarming rate, becoming more drawn. The baby was doing exceptionally well thanks to the doctors he'd brought in. But you...you were suffering for it.

He saw evidence of this when he was standing at the window of his study one day, taking a pause from his work, when he saw you in the rose garden wandering amongst the blooms.

The reports had not done your condition justice. Even from the window on the third floor he could see how thin you were, even with your belly swelling.

Beautiful, he couldn't help thinking as he watched you. Even in your current state, you were glowing. He tossed a look over his shoulder at his papers, a mountain of work he suddenly did not feel like doing. then in a split-second decision, he abandoned his study and headed down the stairs, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt.

Heading into the rose garden, he hesitated at the sight of you. You were bent slightly over a flower, lifting the rose to your nose. The corners of your lips turned up slightly as the fragrance hit you. Turning slightly, you caught sight of him, and straightened, your hand sliding over your belly immediately. "Coriolanus."

"Sweetheart," he greeted, stepping closer.

You looked a little puzzled. "Did you need something?"

He felt a little dazed, unsure really why he came out here. "No...I just..." Coriolanus was now less than a foot away from you. "I wanted to see how you were."

Your expression grew slightly more surprised, but you stayed graceful. "I see."

"Yes," he said, unable to stop looking at you.

Biting your lip, you looked to the side, fingers splayed out over your belly. "I'd have thought you'd gotten enough from your reports."

He blanked. "You know about those?"

"You aren't very discreet," you said, giving a tight smile. "Besides, I know you. You're nosy."

He sniffed a laugh at that. "It's hardly being nosy when it's concern for my wife."

Silence.

Your hand fell off your belly and you moved to examine another rose, a white one. "I didn't know you cared for my wellbeing."

He followed you, tracing your steps. "You're carrying my child, sweetheart."

"Not by either of our choice," you said softly. You reached over your belly to touch one of the rose petals on the outside of the flower. "It is an obligation."

"And yet here we are," he said, picking the rose. He snapped the stem, tucking it behind your ear, his hand sliding under your chin, lifting your eyes to his. "Making the best of our situation."

Your doe eyes as you looked up at him nearly melted his heart. Coriolanus wished he could paint a portrait of you as you were right now: belly round and full of his child, one of his family roses in your hair. You looked so utterly his.

"You haven't been well sweetheart," he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. "Even if I wasn't getting reports-"

"I'm fine. As fine as I can be," you said quietly, trying to avoid his eyes. "Growing a child is taxing, believe it or not."

"This is different." Coriolanus took your hand, which hung limply in his. "I worry about you."

"There is no need for it." You walked over to a stone bench, sitting with both your hands beside you. Your dress fell over your belly in such a way that your knees were not visible. The little detail made you all the more endearing to him.

"Darling." Coriolanus sat beside you, taking your hand once again. "I know this is hardly ideal, but I need you to try."

"What on earth do you think I have been doing?" you asked, looking up at him.

"You're fading," he said simply.

Taking in a breath, you turned slightly to face him. "I'm doing the best I can. I'm pregnant, you'll have your boy. There is nothing more to ask of me."

"Part of that obligation is taking care of yourself," he said, looking you straight in the eye.

"Am I not doing enough?" you exhaled softly. "I don't know why you're so concerned. You've ignored me for the brunt of our marriage. You do not seem to feel any affection for me. I don't see why you should care."

"You know exactly why I care," he insisted, his tone growing frustrated. "I cannot watch you wither away into nothing."

He stood up, holding out his hand. "When is the last time you ate?"

You bit your lip, casting your eyes to the side as you thought. "This morning."

It was nearly the evening. "Come. Let's find something."

"Coriolanus," you said exasperatedly.

"Sweetheart," he said earnestly back, extending his hand further. Even though he wanted to stay distant, there was a protective urge festering inside him, one he couldn't ignore like he'd done in the past.

You pursed your lips for a moment, then seemed to decide something. Taking his hand, you carefully stood up and let him lead you back up to the house.

As he found you something to eat, he thought of his earlier promise to himself not to let himself fall for you. He knew deep down that you had the potential to entrance him, make him adore you. Despite his aversion to this trait of yours, he knew he couldn't keep you at arm's length any longer. Not when your health was on the line.

Perhaps he could resist but stay close.

Your pregnancy progressed with a few things to note.

The first being that your health improved greatly. You were kept under watch, and your weight became less concerning. You found yourself feeling better, a little less tired all the time.

The second notable thing was the sudden closeness of your husband.

Since the day in the rose garden, he had become warmer towards you, more open. He took meals with you every day, diligently making sure you'd eaten enough.

One evening he summoned you to his study, surprising you.

"Is something the matter?" You stood in front of his desk, slightly worried. You'd rushed up so quickly that you hadn't put your book down, your finger still marking your place.

"Will you sit with me?" he requested, gesturing to the seat in front of him.

You tilted your head, sitting down carefully, hand over your belly. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. "I just...wanted you to be close to me. Read your book."

Slowly, you nodded, leaning back in your chair. You opened your book and began to read, peering up to see that he'd begun writing again. Slightly confused but surprisingly pleased that he wanted you near, your eyes found the page again.

Shifting in your chair, you did your best to get comfortable, but it proved to be a difficult task. Your belly didn't exactly make things accommodating for you. Doing simple tasks with ease was becoming increasingly harder.

Apparently, this fact was noticeable to your husband as well. He set his pen down. "Darling?"

You looked up. "Hmm?"

Coriolanus patted his lap. "Come sit."

Tilting your head, your brow furrowed confusedly. "You want me to-?"

"You're uncomfortable," he said, leaning back in his chair, his arms open and ready for you. "Come."

Hesitantly you stood up, book in hand, and went around the desk to sit across his thighs. He secured an arm around you, a little over your belly and you leaned back against him comfortably. "Is this okay?"

"More than," he said, smiling just a little. "Stay here."

And with that, he went back to his papers, working with one hand and keeping you against him with the other. You returned to your reading, perfectly content against him.

This became a routine of sorts. You'd come shyly into his study; he'd hold out an arm for you and you'd sit on his thigh and read. You began to look forward to it, to this time you spent together. His touch was somehow comforting to you.

That was the third thing to note. How much you liked his closeness. The way he went out of his way to make sure you were comfortable, to make sure you weren't lonely.

That wasn't to say there weren't challenges.

At the first gala you attended with him since becoming pregnant, you knew it was going to be a trying affair. Coriolanus was attentive, whispering to you that he'd get you out as soon as possible.

Dressed in a white gown that accentuated your pregnancy, you knew pictures of you and Coriolanus would be splashed across every headline. Keeping that in mind, you did your best to be gracious, to smile and say the right things.

But, three hours into an event that would surely last all night, you found yourself becoming weary. You tugged at Coriolanus' arm, which you'd been glued to all night, but he didn't notice. He was speaking with a senator, engrossed in conversation.

His wife turned to you, starting to speak. "How have things been so far? With the baby?"

You smiled tightly, not upset with her, but tired. "Very well. It's been a wonderful experience."

"How lovely," she smiled, eyeing your figure. "It is a wonder to be sure. A great deal of people have thought you'd never give him a child."

You didn't quite know how to respond to that, so you merely smiled shyly.

"And you're certain it's a boy? We certainly don't need any more young girls around here," the woman laughed, oblivious to your discomfort.

"I suppose we'll see," you nodded, stifling a yawn with your hand and tugging at Coriolanus' arm again. He didn't respond.

"I suppose you aren't eating enough then," the woman noted, raising an eyebrow as she caught your yawn. "If you were you wouldn't be so tired. Or thin for that matter. I know when I was-"

"Darling," Coriolanus cut in, turning to you. "I believe it is time for us to leave." He nodded politely at the woman in front of you and escorted you out, one hand holding one of yours and the other on your back.

Once you were alone at home, you started to cry, a hand over your mouth as you let yourself break down. Your fatigue, the unsolicited advice, the comments on your appearance...it was all too much. You couldn't stand any of it.

It was just another reminder to you of how alone you were. You had no friends- the women of the Capitol were less than inviting, only speaking to you out of obligation and jealousy. And your husband...well, you weren't sure what to think of him at the moment.

Knowing you needed to move around to calm yourself down, you left your room, wandering down the hallway. You tried to keep your breathing even, a hand on your heart as you walked.

You stumbled upon the ballroom, opening the door and wandering inside. The vast emptiness of the large room made you feel small, and you marveled at the feeling. Sometimes being married to Coriolanus made everything feel more heightened. But being alone in this large room made everything feel smaller...less important. It was wonderful.

There was a piano in the corner of the room, and you meandered over to it, running your fingers along the keys. In your training as a socialite, you'd had several lessons in the instrument, but it had been a long time since you'd played.

You sat on the bench carefully, positioning your hands on the keys and beginning to play an old favorite. Muscle memory was your companion, and your fingers moved nimbly and easily. It was comforting to know that you still knew how to do it, that not everything in your past was easily forgotten.

When you looked up after you finished playing, Coriolanus was standing in the doorway. The corners of his mouth were turned up slightly, and he walked over to you. You turned slightly on the bench as he did.

Your husband knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his and bringing them to his lips. He lifted his eyes to meet yours, seeming to take you in. You were still in the same white dress you'd worn to the event. He squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry. I know tonight was hard."

Closing your eyes, you nodded, trying not to cry again. "I'm okay." Coriolanus was still looking up at you when you opened your eyes, and you gave him a small smile when you saw how sincere he was in his apology.

"Are you tired?" he asked softly, searching your eyes.

You shook your head. Somehow your fatigue had vanished somewhere in your walk through the halls.

"Okay." He nodded and stood up, helping you stand as well. "Will you come with me?"

It was a genuine question, and you nodded at it, somehow trusting him more in that moment than you ever had before.

He led you upstairs and up to a door you recognized as his room. You hesitated before going inside but ultimately decided to follow him. Coriolanus kicked off his shoes and sat you down on his bed, hands in yours. "Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm fine," you managed, looking down at your joined hands.

"Darling," he murmured.

"I just...it gets so lonely sometimes," you said softly, looking up at him.

"Oh, sweetheart," Coriolanus breathed, lifting your chin and searching your eyes. "I had no idea."

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. "It just gets to be too much sometimes."

His hand came to your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Sweetheart." You opened your eyes. He brought his forehead to yours, the gesture surprisingly comforting. "I'm sorry. I never meant for you to feel this way."

"I feel like I'm all alone in this," you said quietly, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Coriolanus pulled you closer to him, his expression softer than you'd ever seen it. He kissed your temple. "I'm sorry darling. I know that's my fault."

"It's not. Not really," you murmured, leaning into him. "I know you didn't want this."

"That doesn't mean you should suffer for it," he kissed your forehead. Then Coriolanus took your face into his hands, and you leaned into his touch. "I want you to know how grateful I am for you."

You softened between his hands, looking up at him with doe eyes. "Grateful?"

"Grateful," he clarified, looking over you, your body and your belly. "Grateful because you have given yourself wholly to me. And you might say you didn't have a choice. But you did. And you chose to do this for me. Whatever the reason is, I am grateful for you."

You were stunned at this, your lips parting slightly. He saw you. He had seen you and he cared. A tiny smile made its way onto your face as you looked up at him. "That means a great deal."

"You deserve more than a great deal," he breathed, his hands sliding from your cheeks to your shoulders. "After everything...what you've given me..."

His voice was husky. "Nobody's ever done anything close to this much for me. You..."

"Coriolanus," you whispered, your lips ever so close to his. Months ago, you never would have allowed it, never would have gotten so close. But things were different now. The child growing inside you had changed everything.

"I'll never let you feel alone again," he breathed. "Never let you feel undervalued, unappreciated...nothing less than what you are."

"And what's that?" you asked.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "The beautiful mother of my child. A woman who is more than I deserve."

"Hardly," you looked up at him, feeling like you were seeing him for the first time. His expression was caring, his touch gentle. He seemed so different now than he was at the start of your marriage.

"Let me show you." Coriolanus muttered, hands coming back to yours, lifting them and kissing your fingers once more.

Your heart pounded, breath quickening, and you nodded. He set your hands down, moving his hand to the zip of your dress and pulling back slightly to look at you. You nodded and turned so he'd have easier access. He slid the zip down carefully and you helped him move the dress over your shoulders and down your body. It ended up as a pile of fabric beside his bed.

Gently, Coriolanus laid you back onto the bed, eyes roaming over you. He appeared entranced by you. Your skin was glowing, your body curvier, belly swollen. His lips parted. "Beautiful," he breathed, leaning down. Your lips were terribly close to his...

You took the final step and pressed your lips to his, capturing them in a kiss that started innocent but quickly became searing.

He pulled you in by the waist, pressing you against him. You knew from experience that Coriolanus' kisses were hungry, but tonight he must have been starving. The way his lips moved against yours was sinful, but you wanted it, wanted it bad.

Your hands moved of their own accord, tugging at his shirt buttons and discarding the garment once it was unbuttoned. His pants were the next to go, joining your dress and his shirt on the floor. When he kissed you, his hands wandered over your body, reaching for the clasp of your undergarment. His touch set you on fire.

When he'd gotten you completely bare and he was in the same state, he pulled back, not kissing you for a moment, just looking. You squirmed a little under his gaze, which was intense although caring. "What is it?" you questioned softly.

"Breathtaking." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You...carrying my child...you're very nearly a goddess."

That made the corners of your lips turn up sweetly, and you pulled him down for another kiss, his body hovering over you, careful not to put too much weight on your belly.

As you laid tangled in his sheets in the aftermath of it, your body was more wholly satisfied than it had been in a long time. You looked over at him, smiling softly and resting on your side. He reached out and rested his hand back on your cheek, stroking your soft skin. You felt a connection with him then, for the first time since your pregnancy began.

Coriolanus leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and feather light. He moved on the bed, so he was facing you. The soft light combined with what you'd just done made him look a way that pulled at your heart.

His eyes never left yours. You recognized that look. He was making sure you were comfortable, that you felt safe. Usually, you only saw that look at public events but seeing it right now after something so intimate sent a flutter through you.

"Will you stay tonight?" he murmured, one hand in your hair.

"Yes," you breathed. He opened his arms and let you snuggle close. As you drifted off, you felt one of his hands wander to your belly, caressing it gently. It was the first time he'd really touched it your entire pregnancy.

For the first time, you began to think of the baby in your belly as yours too. A baby. Your hand ran over your bump, and you smiled softly. It was both of your child. As much yours as it was his.

And you didn't mind it one bit.

He had vowed not to fall for you.

He had spent countless hours convincing himself he hadn't.

But after the night of the gala, he couldn't deny it anymore.

Every time Coriolanus looked at you, whether it be at the breakfast table when the sunlight filtered through the windows and hit your face just right, or when he looked up from his work every night when you were on his lap to see your concentrated face as you read, he felt the tendrils of feeling close around his heart.

He found himself becoming more affectionate with you. He used your pet names in an abundance, and he always felt like he needed to be touching you. You were the bright point in his life.

The last months of your pregnancy were bliss. Vesta rarely called on him, so he was free to spend all he free time with you.

Walking in the gardens, reading side by side. He'd press a kiss to your temple now and then, keeping you close, making sure you were well.

He feared childbirth for you the closer you got to it. Thoughts of his own mother, and the stories he'd heard of swam through his head and he held you a little tighter because of it.

Now he insisted you sleep in the same room as him, wanting to keep an eye on you. Sometimes he'd wake in the middle of the night and just watch you sleep, making sure your breathing was steady, wanting to be around in case you needed anything. He was paranoid you'd go into labor while he was asleep.

And of course, when you finally did, he was.

You woke him in a panic, the bedsheets soaked, telling him in hurried tones that it was time, that the baby was coming. He leapt into action immediately, sending for the doctor. The two of you had fallen asleep in your bedroom tonight, and when he tried to move you, you whimpered and shook your head, a cramp rippling through your body.

The doctor arrived, and everything was a blur after that. He never left your side, even though the sight of you in pain made him feel faint.

Before the both of you knew it, the baby was out, and you were collapsing back into the pillows, your body exhausted. Coriolanus looked over to the doctor, who was holding his new baby...

Girl.

Coriolanus stood up, his heart racing. A girl. Vesta would be furious. He was just outside the door after all, expecting the news any moment now.

He went to stand by the window as the doctor handed you the baby, gathering his thoughts. What would he tell Vesta? More importantly, what was the man going to do? His blood started to boil as he thought of Vesta hurting you in any way for this.

Looking over at you with the baby girl in your arms, close to your chest, he was filled with a sense of wonder. You'd grown his child, pushed it out of your body, and he was supposed to be upset that it wasn't a boy?

The door burst open, and Vesta revealed himself, looking over the scene. You rushed to cover yourself, and Coriolanus moved to your side, making sure you had some privacy.

"For heaven's sake Vesta," he said protectively. "You couldn't have allowed us ten minutes?"

"Not when the bloodline is at stake, my boy," Vesta said, grinning. "So, your son?"

"Not a son," you spoke up, cradling the baby close to you. You smiled down at your daughter, who was fast asleep.

The man's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what she said, Vesta," Coriolanus said in quiet tones. "Not a son. A daughter."

Vesta's face grew cold. "This is unacceptable. A daughter isn't good for the family."

"And yet," Coriolanus folded his arms, still standing in front of you.

"She will have to be hidden away. We'll tell the public the baby was stillborn," Vesta moved forward, as if to take the child from you.

You shook your head, holding the baby tight to your chest. "No, no don't."

"To have a firstborn daughter isn't good for your image," Vesta reached out for the baby. "Your wife is clearly defective in some way. We'll have the child taken away. Given to another Capitol family."

"No," you cried out, looking fearfully up at Coriolanus. You looked so scared, and the surge of protectiveness that shot through him was amplified with what you said next. "Coriolanus, don't let him take her."

As Vesta moved toward you, Coriolanus stood in his path. "You won't be taking our daughter."

Vesta's face grew sterner still. "I beg your pardon?"

Coriolanus was unmoving. "A son will come eventually. But in the meantime, our daughter will be claimed as ours."

"Your image-" Vesta started.

"Will not be ruined by a child," he cut him off. Coriolanus took a step toward Vesta, his frame tall and intimidating. "Since I enlisted your help in my career, you have been rude, demanding, and disrespectful, especially toward my wife." He glanced back at you. Your eyes were wide as you held the baby.

"If I ever see you insult my wife again," Coriolanus started, his voice quiet but deadly. "Even if I hear of it, I will not hesitate to make you disappear. You see, since last year, my resources have grown exceptionally. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

Vesta was silent, looking shocked at his words.

"Now get out before I have you escorted," Coriolanus pointed at the door. "Out."

Vesta huffed, straightening his suit. "If your career collapses, you'll only have yourself to blame." He cast a dirty look at you. "Well, I suppose not only you."

And with that, the older man left.

Coriolanus stood there seething for a moment. He had half a mind to run to his study and call the right people to have Vesta taken out right now. But he controlled himself. Later, he thought.

For now, he turned to you, kneeling beside the bed and pushing sweaty strands out of your face. "I'm sorry sweetheart."

"You stood up for me," you said, smiling softly as you looked up at him. You looked down at the baby. "You didn't let him take her."

"How could I?" Coriolanus murmured, leaning in and nudging his nose with yours, which made you smile again. "How could I when I..." he swallowed. "When I love you too much to let that happen."

Your eyes widened a bit, your smile sweeter. "You love me?"

"I think I've loved you ever since I've known you," he said, the adrenaline from the interaction with Vesta seeming to give him courage. "And after this..." he reached down to the baby, stroking her soft little cheek with his finger. "I can't keep it in anymore."

You watched as he sat on the bed next to you, encircling you and the baby in his arms, pushing a kiss to your hair. He smiled, a real smile he always found himself wearing around you.

"I didn't think I'd be able to love you when I married you," you said quietly, looking up at him. "But somehow I do."

He lifted your chin, kissing you briefly. "You love me?" He'd repeated your words, which made you smile.

"I love you," you confirmed, looking into his eyes. You looked so tired, but happy. He'd never understood before how one could feel happy because of someone else's joy, but now he did.

He kissed you again, wrapping his arms tightly around you and the baby, around his little family.

The sun rose that morning, the dawn of a new day, but also a new life for him. He now truly had his wife and his daughter, both so loved.

And he was loved too.

come talk about coryo here!

[sweetronancer]

I REMEMBERED! I WAS TALKING ABOUT MAYA HAWKE AND RONANCE WITH MY SILLY AND I BROUGHT UP LUNA MOTH (OR WELL I BROUGHT UP THE CURRENT SITUATION IN THE MIDDLE EAST OR WTV AND MAYA HAWKE STEPPING ON N*AH AND BR*TT LIKE A LUNA MOTH!!)

AND WE TALKED ABOUT HOW I COULD WRITE A SILLY LITTLE THING ABOUT ROBIN ACCIDENTALLY STEPPING ON OR KILLING A MOTH AND NANCY GETTING SAD ABOUT IT, SO ROBIN LEARNS HOW TO LIKE PIN INSECTS??? AND GIVING THEM TO NANCY AS LITTLE GIFTS!!!

dude i hate wanting to post something and then waiting like 15 seconds and then forgetting what i was gonna post ://

all i remember is that it involved ronance and luna moth by maya hawke😭😭

[imaslutforcuddles]

DUMB DUMB

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM!READER

Summary: Your a cheerleader at Hawkins high, Jason trusts you exclusively. Well mainly because your his childhood bestfriend. Yet there is something that no one In the squads know. Your a fantasy lover, and hellfire Is the best fucking thing you’ve ever joined. After being tired of Jason’s bullshit, you decide to mess everything up between the two of you. Best thing yet, he never even saw it coming.

Warnings: Swearing, substance use, smoking, angst (jason), bullying, fighting, loss of virginity, SMUT, p in v, oral (f receiving), squirting, unsafe sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), little bit of Dom Eddie :), praise, subby reader, good girl and shit like that, a lot of orgasming lmfao, overstimulation, Eddie is big.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: OMFG ITS FINALLY DONE. BTW people HAVE SEX IN THIS SO MINORS BE AWARE!!!!!! I’m not in-charge of your media consumption so i can’t make you click off. I WILL BLOCK YOU THOUGH- The title is a song that i found from a movie called Do Revenge (maya hawke acts in it). I fucking love It, def recommend. HERE Is the Spotify official playlist for it, also recommend listening to while reading this. A smut fic bc eddie deserves some pussy.

You reach into your bag grabbing a twenty, “Is it going to be more expensive because I’m friends with Carver?” Eddie chuckles grabbing the cash and hands you a bag of pre-rolls, “Nah, you get a member discount.” You pause looking down, “Well damn.” Eddie raises his brows, “I guess i can’t leave hellfire then.” The both of you start laughing uncontrollably.

You wipe a stray tear off your face while you both get up from the bench you were sitting on. Sighing, Eddie comes closer to you, “Why are you even friends with him?”

“Because I’m going to make him hurt, like he hurt you.”

Eddie widened his eyes and huffed,��“Jesus. h. christ.” He cleared his throat and looked away, trying to hide the growing blush on his cheeks. Smiling, you grabbed your bag. “Hey Eds i think we should head back, I don’t want to miss out of the worst fucking school lunch i’ve ever eaten in my life (we can all agree school lunches are vile).” He frowned, but then grinned not wanting to seem too vulnerable. 

“Yep.”

-

Eddie picked through his lunch as always, head in his hand. 

“Hey Eddie are you okay?” Dustin frowned as Eddie raised his head and grinned. “I’m just fine Henderson.” Mike and Lucas looked at each-other sharing a knowing look, “Are you sure Eddie because you kinda look like shit,” Dustin continued. Eddie glared at him, “What did you just say?” Dustin widened his eyes and looked away gulping, “I j-just mean you look a bit tired that’s all!” Eddie shook his head scoffing, “Yeah okay Henderson.”

He looked around and caught your eyes. You winked and smiled at him as he looked away embarrassed. 

“Hey peach who are you looking at?” You winced at the cringe pet name and your grin became a thin line as you realized who had started talking to you, “No one Carver.” He stared down at you for a minute waiting for a different answer before it turned into a glare, “I fucking saw you wink at him.” He huffed. You kissed your teeth and sighed, “Who are you talking about jason?” 

He scoffed, “You fucking know who the fuck I’m talking about Y/n.” Rolling your eyes you turned to meet his, “I actually don’t Jason that’s why I asked.” He tensed up realising you weren’t going to confess. “You were looking at the fucking freak!” He whisper-shouted. Pressing a hand to your temple you sighed, “He’s not a freak Jason.” 

“Oh-ho yes the fuck he is! Why are you defending him?” He fought. “You know what jason?” Pausing you huffed out air you didn’t know you had held in. “The only freak here is you.” You looked everywhere but at his face as he frowned.

As you started to walk off, you turned your head hearing one word fall out of his mouth, “Whore.” You widened your eyes and shook your head. “NOW I KNOW YOU DID NOT JUST FUCKING CALL ME A WHORE JASON CARVER!” If looks could kill, he would be dead on the cold and dirty cafetera floor. His tense figure softened a bit as he started to cower at all the eyes laid on the two of you, “I’m sorry Y/n.” Scoffing at his lame apology you waved your hand and walked off, “Yeah you fucking should be. God you disgust me.”

-

Being in that school was so suffocating that the second you walked out your breath returned to your body, and you could finally breathe.

You dropped your head and closed your eyes. How could he have called you that? He was far from the truth, you were a virgin. You normally don’t take any sort of offense to being called slutty or anything like that, but Jason wasn’t the type you would pin for slut shaming. Or so you thought. And you couldn’t stop the naging words in the back of your mind.

Jason Carver isn’t a good person. He deserves to pay.

-

“The hooded cultists chant, hail Lord Vecna.” You scoff and look over at mike. ‘tf is this dumbass saying?’ You mouth, mike grins at your comment and shakes his head with you. “Hail Lord Vecna. They turn to you,” His eyes jolt to you and you freeze, ‘God damnit i can’t fucking die first again, Hegla is too precious to me.’ You cry to yourself. “Remove their hoods, you recognise most of them from makbar. There is one you do not recognise, his skin shriveled,” He turns his focus onto jeff and your breath steadys a little as Erica gulps next to you. “Desiccated, and something else. He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!”

Your face drops and you look to your right, “WHAT!” you shout with dustin. You have already lost so much to Vecna, and you thought he was killed by kas!

You lift your hands up to your face and start fake crying. though you believe you might actually start to cry, “Venca is DEAD.” “He was killed by kas!” Mike agrees. You rub your temple in defeat, “So it was thought my friends, so it was thought. BUT VECNA LIVES.”

You gasp again and drop your body weight into your chair, “We’re fuckin dead, doomed, through. Pack it up people!” 

Eddie chuckles and continues on while others groan and huff.

-

“You are scared, your tired, you are injured. Do you flee Venca and his cultists?” You grip your chair fuming and hopped up on caffeine and adrenaline, “Or do you stay and fight.” 

-

You all sit in silence for a while, even Eddie gets impatient. “Come on,”

You think deeply about the consequence of running away, ‘you’d be a coward. but, you’d live.’

Dustin holds his hand up, debating a wise choice. “I say we fight;” You look over at him and nod a little, “To the death.” You nod and smile throwing down your pencil, “To the death!” Mike and Erica agree and soon everyone has joined in chanting. Eddie starts laughing and lays back in his throne as you all slam your hands on the table shouting, Dustin leans back while yelling “TO THE DEATH!”

-

Erica rolls her D8 and D10 while you all lean closer in anticipation; soon your all shout “YES!” and grinning at the roll. 

Mike rolls his D20 and you all hiss and yell in agony when he fails.

Jeff’s turn ends up with Eddie smacking his character off the board.

-

Win to loss to loss again and again, and again as Eddie laughs maniacally at you all.

-

A timeout is called and as you huddle up gareth says, “Guys i hate to say this but we have got to flee.” Jeff nods and another says, “I concur.” (His name isn’t specified anywhere he literally is just called ‘freak’) 

Erica shakes her head, “Didn’t we literally just say ‘to the death’?” “That wasn’t literal!”

Jeff continues, “Vecna just decimated us, we can’t kill him with three players!” (we’re going to pretend your precious Helga survived) Dustin scoffs, “You too?! He only has 15hp left, don’t be pussies-!” Gareth makes a face, “Pussies, Really? Cause were not delusional?” He whisper yells. You slap a hand to your face to try and stop a laugh, “Gareth i swear to god-” “Delusional? How about not cowards.” 

“Hey.” Eddie shouts, “If i may interject gentlemen, ‘Lady applejack/Knight Hegla’. whilst i respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running.. Don’t try to be heros, not today. Kay?” His grin widens. You look from Erica to Dustin as he raises a finger, “One second.” Back to your huddle, “What do you think mike?” “How many hp do you guys have left?” He asks, “Twelve.” You three say in unison, “It’s risky as hell, but your the ones on the battlefield. So it’s your call.” You try not to smile as Gareth's face contorts the hole time mike talks.

Dustin inhails, “What do you say girls?” Erica looks from you to Dustin, “Do you really gotta ask?” Dustin then looks at you, you smile and raise a brow. “Do you think i look like a bitch to back down from an ass whoopin?” Dustin takes a second, “Screw it.”

“Lets kill this son of a bitch.”

Jeff huffs and you all get closer to the table, “Chances of success are twenty to one!” Dustin points a finger, “Never tell me the odds.”

“Give me the D20.”

Eddie smirks and tosses him the dice.

Your all huddled around the table and Dustin as he rolls, eleven. You groan as Eddie waves his head up and down, “That’s a MISS.” You all hiss as you barely miss, it’s all up to Erica.

All eyes are on Erica as she rolls the D20, Gareth crying, Dustin shouting, You slamming your fist into your palm. Eddie leans closer to the dice, twenty! Your all shouting in victory. Eddie was yipping and jerking, his hands clapping while he smiled in surprise and also he’s just a proud DM.

-

You decided to stay back with Eddie to help clean the room after the campaign was over and everyone else went home. Eddie came over to you and grinned, “Helga’s still alive ay, you should be proud.” Your mouth hung open and your eyes widened as you punched his arm, “You fucker! It’s not my fault you love to kill us all off like daisies.” It’s true, this is the first campaign you’ve survived. You’ve been in hellfire just over three months. 

Eddie chuckled and nudged your shoulder, “I know i’m proud.”

You stopped picking up pieces and dice looking over at Eddie, blushing when you realise just how close he was to you. “You mean it?” He smiled stepping closer, “Of course, Its difficult to survive such..” Eddie started leaning in, to the point you could feel his hot breath against your face, “Difficult campaigns.” Your breath hitched when his lips almost touched, “Eddie?” You felt something warming up in your stomach, “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

His eyes widened as you put your lips on his. His lips felt so right connected to yours and you felt a moan building up as he deepened the kiss. Eddie groaned into you as you pressed your body up against his, “God your so beautiful,” you smiled, “I bet i’d look prettier naked on top of you.” 

He froze, “Are you okay Eds?” “Never been better.”

-

So here you are in his bed with butterfly sheets that he never bothered to get rid of, naked. 

Eddie kissed you on the lips savoring you, “Can i taste you baby? You look so good.” You moaned and nodded, “Please Eddie.” 

“Please what? I want to hear you beg.” 

You clenched your thighs together, “Please eat my pussy Eddie.” He grinned, “Of course, how could i refuse my good girl? Your going to be my good girl aren’t you?” He looked into your eyes sending shivers down your spine, “Of course Eds!” You nod your head, eager to be touched. He chuckles at your obedience and starts slowly kissing down your body, his touch like fire against your skin. It felt too good to be true. The boy that you’ve liked for years, is going to eat you out? You whined as his lips teased your thighs, he kissed everywhere but where you need the most. “Please Eddie.” He looked up at you from in-between your legs and you melted, this fine-ass man was willing to fuck you. Your whines soon turned into moans as he began to kiss and suck your clit. 

You slid your hands into his thick curls and arched your back, “Oh yes! Please!” You almost screamed and he dipped his tongue into your wet cunt, “Fuck Eddie!” He hums into your cunt, “Your pussy is fucking heaven baby.” The flick of his tongue driving you insane and the was his thumb rubs your clit makes you orgasm quicker than you’ve ever cum before. Legs shaking and eyes rolled back you squeal as he continues to eat your cunt like a dessert, “E-Eddie too mu-” He shuts you up with his two fingers sliding into your wet hole. 

Moans are the only noise you make, Eddie smiles into your cunt and keeps sucking and kissing your clit. You cry out and start clenching hard on his fingers, “Are you gonna cum for me again baby?” You can only answer with a whine. He laughs at your answer and starts pumping his fingers faster, hitting your sweet-spot every time. 

Your second orgasm wasn’t the same as the first, when you snapped a liquid starting spilling out of you in heaps. You hadn’t realised just what made Eddie so surprised and wet. “What?” You whine out, he doesn’t say anything for a solid five seconds and then he pounces on you, attacking your lips. “Please let me fuck you, f-fuck i don’t think my cock could take not fucking your pretty little pussy.” You widen your eyes and nod vigorously which makes Eddie smile, “Your so needy for my cock aren’t you?” You shake your head again, “Say it baby. Be my good girl and say you want my cock inside you.”

“Please put your cock inside my pussy Eddie. Oh please!” He groans at your eagerness to be spread open by him.

He starts to pull his cock out of his boxers and you almost cum on the spot, his dick was HUGE. Like pornstar big, at-least nine inches. His smile becomes wider when he notices your reaction, “Is it too big for you baby?” You frown and shake your head no, “N-no way! I can take it.”

“Good.”

Eddie rubs his tip on your clit and you squirm a little, but Eddie grabs your hips. “Be a good girl and stay still.”

When Eddie first pushes into you it burns, you hiss and he pulls you into him rubbing your back. “Are you okay baby?” He looks into your eyes trying to search for something, “I’m okay Eddie, just keep going. Don’t stop.” After the first couple thrusts it becomes completely crumbing, you feel like you could melt away into nothing. The way the Eddie whispers, “Taking my cock like such a good girl.”

He spreads your legs open wider and you moan loud into his ear, “Oh such a good girl, keep moaning. Let me know just how good i’m making you feel.”

You start getting closer with every thrust into your sopping cunt, and he can feel it. He starts to pound you faster and you scream, “That’s it, cum for me.” You shake and squirt all over his chest and dick, he groans and your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Can i cum inside you baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, “Please give me your cum, i need it!” 

He cums with a loud grunt and lays beside you, “I think i might love you.”

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

More Damian Wayne headcanon

Because I can and this time is more about future(?) and batkids siblings and I'll also talk about some canon points, then please respect

Damian is not a Bruce clone, then he won't become a bodybuilder like his father when he grow up, but he will be more like Ra's and Talia side, something tall and elegant (and long hair like his grandfather)

Damian sees heritage as something very important, this is more on the cultural side than really a title, he is of Arab and Chinese descent so it is obvious that the issue of him being Batman's son and the devil's grandson is something important, no as a title but with cultural value and perhaps a curse

Look being Batman or Demon Head (I hate when DC is lazy and do this) is is for him a birthright, a duty as a member of that family and also a curse

I know Americans don't really understand the weight of this, but it's something of extreme cultural importance

So you can imagine what a funny thing it was when Dick stole the chair and now we have a Nightwing!Damian or whatever title the boy has brought for himself

if DC keep written Batman like that, I think Bruce and Damian's relationship will end up becoming "I still respect you, but I want distance" something worn similar to Dick and Bruce's relationship

Speaking of family relationships, Damian gives a lot of value and respect to family, just look at his relationship with his mother and grandfather, even his relationship with his cousin. They will fight to the death one day and the next they will be sitting around eating vegetarian food together

At this point I believe that stabbing a family member to see if they is worthy of staying in the family is an Al Ghul thing, Ra's started it as a big joke and they all continue it out of tradition and because it is also funny, one bonding family activity (Talia just never explained this inside joke to Bruce because she wants to annoy him)

Damian is an altruist and a lowkey suicidal (these two combinations together is what led to his death - he sacrificed himself for Gotham; and you can see it when he choice give his clone a sanctuary and also create a sanctuary for those kids in that tournament) and his family lives in fear of those events repet again

When adult he just don't give a fuck about Justice League, even when he is recognized as a great hero, Damian has no patience for any of them but he can helps if Jon, Kor'i or Connor Hawke ask for help if it's another hero, he'll say no

in the future Damian become the Jason Todd of the Al Ghul family

child and teen Damian talk about the cool older sister he has occasionally, much to the brothers' dismay, Bruce confirms the girl's existence, saying that Damian adopted her as a sister. The batkids meet Maya eventually

Occasionally Damian can also talk about his cool older brother from League but he refuses to elaborate this one

One night, when the batkids were gathered to eat a batburger, Duke asked as a joke how long it would take for Damian to adopt a child and this makes everyone relive unresolved childhood traumas. Duke just sits back and eats fries while enjoying the chaos, as now everyone is making calculations about the odds of this happening or not

when everyone finally calms down, Duke (again by pure menace) asks what kind of child Damian is most capable of adopting, and all the screaming and calculations starts again (Bruce lowkey traumatized everyone)

Tim says he (the kid) will be an assassin, so he (Damian) can save the child like Dick saved him. Dick says he (the kid) will be a little stalker who is charming the big hero. Jason calls them cowards because how sure are they that the child will be a boy and not a girl? And at some point they start debating whether the dead Robin's curse will follow these children

Duke Thomas has a good time that night

and now every member of the family has an emergency kit for the hypothetical child that Damian will adopt

Damian can use magic, but he never brings it up. The brothers suspect that he can - due to their blood heritage with Ra's - so they each (separately) have a contingency plan in case someone reacts badly to the fact that Damian knows how to use magic

Let's me explain: once they are all grown up, they don't want to go back to Damian's early days where a brother distrusts Damian in the house, individually they all understand that Damian is his own person and there is no reason to fight anymore, but they don't trust in the reaction between them (Bruce lowkey made everyone paranoid), so this contingency plan is in case "hey Damian can use magic, but now one of my brothers/Batman is mad at him again in the most nosense way, so I'm going to protect my little brother and not let This stupid member of my family hurts my little brother"

Dick reaction: "Oh this is actually more beautiful than I thought….but have you already talked about this with Bruce? He and Tim might react badly because of Ra's, so if you've already told them, we can leave the country until things calm down. Actually I have a spy friend who can help you, you like pandas, right?"

Jason reaction: "oh shit, oh shit, We have a problem now...I already told them that I'm injured and they will know that you healed me, so I want you to take my plane and go to Kor'i, I can talk to her on the phone, she owes me a favor then she will let you stay on her planet due to Bruce and the replacement's reaction because ...you know Ra's' paranoia"

Tim reaction: "I knew it! but I think now we have a problem, your father still have resentment about your grandfather then...take my keys and go to my house, I'll text Bernard about this don't worry, do you want me to pick up your pets?"

and things go this way (they most fear for Bruce bad reaction than anything else)

when kid Damian had the habit of sleeping with the sound of the Batmobile's engine, all the family members have carried him to bed more than once because of this

One night, when Damian is around 17~19 years old, Steph asks him to paint on her wall in her new apartment, in the end she gives him a ride back home and, to her surprise, Damian fell asleep on the passenger seat in the same way he always did as a child

This news made all the brothers always offer him a ride at night, Dick even bought an blanket exclusively for this (one time the baby brother is always the baby brother)

Some batkid headcanon: Damian || Duke || Cassandra || Stephanie || Tim || Jason || Dick

[tomtenadia]

Check My Heart - 3

Hello all,

Here we are with another chapter and be prepared for a super sweet DadRowan...

MASTERLIST

A week had elapsed and on that morning in late August, Rowan was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for him and a lunch pack for his daughter. It was her first day of school and he needed it to be perfect. He had cleared his schedule for the morning and afternoon. 

The previous night she had been excited and together they had laid out the uniform and prepared the backpack. She had asked for a panda backpack but her pencil case, pencils and pens were all Hawks branded. He was going to buy her regular ones but Maya had wanted to flaunt her allegiances right from the beginning. He knew his daughter and was sure she was going to brag about him very soon and put in place anyone claiming Perranth was better. HE loved his daughter but would admit that she had spent far too much time surrounded by hockey players and for an almost 6 yers old she had very strong opinions already. 

His parents had convinced him to send her to a private school with great reputation and quite an interesting curriculum. He was nervous and prior to enrolment Rowan had requested a meeting with the headmaster to discuss his situation. Had to disclose that the mother was not in the picture and that his parents looked after Maya when he was away and also were the only people beside him to be allowed to pick up Maya from school. 

So far his daughter had lived in a sort of protected environment but now she was going out in the world and, although Elide had done a wonderful job at dealing with most speculation with regards to his marriage to Lyria, he was afraid that something might leak at the wrong time and reach his daughter.

Breakfast ready, he climbed upstairs and went in Maya’s room. His daughter was just getting off the bed, her elf light switched on “morning big girl.”

Maya ran to him for a hug which Rowan did not deny her “Are you excited about school?”

She spread her arm wide “this much.” Rowan kissed her and then both went back downstairs.

“I made you waffles.”

Maya smiled and tucked in as soon as the plate was in front of her.

“I spoke to Miss G and she knows you are starting school but you can have some training in the afternoon with her after school.”

“Can we go tonight, dad? I want to tell her about school.”

In the weeks since the day he had played on the ice with Aelin, he had met her almost every morning. He had started to teach her some basic hockey manoeuvres and in return she had tried to teach him figure skating. Suffice to say that it reminded him of when as a toddler he was learning to skate. But it had been fun. Neither ever mentioned their accidents and he was not sure if she knew about him but surely she was less grumpy with him.

“That we can do.”

“She is teaching me the tappo jump.”

“You need to show me.”

Maya smiled proudly and Rowan was looking forward to see his daughter on the ice.

*

When he arrived in front of the school he paused before switching off the car and pushed back the tears he felt pooling at his eyes. 

“Dada, school!” Maya was trying hard to unfasten her belt so he quickly jumped out of the car and went to her door “wait a second.”

Once his daughter was ready he grabbed the backpack, locked the car and together they walked to the main door. Maya was buzzing, Rowan was struggling to let her hand go.

Inside they were met by teachers and Rowan walked to the table to see where his daughter was heading to.

He had visited the school with Maya a while before and she loved it.

“Name?”

“Whitethorn,” he said quietly. Hockey was a big thing in Terrasen and he did not want any fans interrupting his moment with Maya. The woman at the desk smiled at him and then pointed to a specific room.

“Ready to see your class and meet your teacher?”

“Yes,” added Maya jumping up and down in excitement.

“Welcome,” said a woman with dark skin “My name is miss Falliq and I will be your teacher.”

“I am Maya and I love school.” The teacher kneeled and smiled “I am so glad.”

“Dada, I am at school.”

Rowan kneeled and hugged his daughter “I know baby and I am so proud.” A big kiss smacked on her cheek “and I love you so much.”

Maya returned the kiss “I love you too dad.”

Rowan all of a sudden could not pull back and let her go.

Then he took a deep breath and pulled back “I’ll pick you up after school and we are going skating okay?”

“Okay.”

Finally he stood and the teacher reassured him.

Rowan pulled back his cap and sneaked outside as quickly as possible. He hid in his car for a few minutes and fought the tears that threatened to spill. His girl was growing up fast and there was not a day in which he worried if he was doing a good job.

He was about to go back home but in the end he drove to the ice rink. Maybe some exercise would dull the ache of sending his daughter to school.

In the changing rooms he went for his lockers and wore a pair of training trousers and then his spare clean jersey. It felt strange to wear it again, with his fingers he brushed the C on the left hand-side then closed his eyes and pushed aside all the dark thoughts. 

As he walked along the tunnel he felt the soft notes of music filling the arena. He was positive it was Aelin and his step had an unexpected spring until he emerged out of the tunnel and froze. 

The usual pang of panic spreading through his body.

Rowan cursed. He had been feeling better recently and had no more panic attacks but now… he leaned against the wall and tried to control his breathing as his mother had coached him. She kept insisting that he had ptsd and maybe he should see a therapist but Rowan dismissed the theory every time. When he finally got his breathing under control he resumed his walk and emerged and spotted Aelin dancing at the rhythm of classical music. It was relaxing. While training with her they always kept the music on and he decided that it definitely did the trick. It had the power to keep him concentrated on the music and not on the ice.

He sneaked in and sat on the bench and studied her dance. She probably had spotted him but did not appear to be bothered by his presence. Aelin did a series of loops and jumps and he thought he recognised a Lutz. He had tried and learn more about the jumps and during their sessions he had managed to improve his single toe loop and a waltz jump, he still looked like a demented oaf but at least he was holding the landing now. 

He smiled and kept watching her. Aelin lifted her leg behind her, grabbing it with an hand and then he saw her body folding forward until it resembled a doughnut. She spun and he was mesmerised. 

Watching her skate was a thing of beauty. 

Rowan was quite familiar with some of the performances from when he was with Lyria but Aelin seemed on another level.

She was up straight again and skated in a wide oval to gather momentum, Rowan watched her get in position for a jump but as she was about to take flight he noticed the brief hesitation. That split second was all she needed. Her skate caught in the ice and went flying on the ice. Rowan in terror skated to her “Aelin,” panic in his voice.

“I am fine.” She snapped in a furious tone.

“What happened there?”

She was silent and turned her head away from him.

“Aelin?”

Silence.

“You were trying an axel.” He admitted as he had seen her preparing for a forward take off.

“I…” her hand went to her knee “I just missed the timing.”

Bullshit, he wanted to shout. He had watched a lot of her videos of her competitions and she never missed. She was amazing and all the accolades she had been attributed were deserved. All of a sudden he realised she was struggling just as much as him. 

“No, you didn’t.” He said softly and she looked up at him with a broken stare.

“I know…” he whispered and saw the surprise in her eyes “I saw the video.”

“You mean you saw me throw my career in the toilet.”

“It was a freak accident.”

Aelin scoffed hard “I landed a perfect triple axel and then what do I do? I fucking mess up with a Lutz?”

Rowan chuckled “well, it might be like us not scoring while on a 4 on 3 power play and an empty net.”

“You do realise I have no idea of what you just said?”

“We just need to teach you more hockey.”

They fell into silence and he sat at her side on the ice “want to know something cute?”

Aelin nodded.

“Maya started school.”

She squealed in delight “she told me that she was starting school, she was all excited.”

He lay down on the ice and could not care about the temperature.

“You seem sad.”

“No, I am happy, but it scares me at the same time.”

Aelin was about to ask something but Rowan stopped her and shook his head.

“Get up old man, show me some hockey.”

Rowan got up and went to the locker room and gathered some equipment and got back to the ice. He placed the net and the a few cones.

“You taught me some basic, now it’s my turn.”

He grabbed his stick and with experienced agility he zigzagged between the cones and scored.

“Do I need to cheer? What if I support the other team?”

“You really are a menace.”

Rowan huffed a laugh and continued “now, when you are handling the puck you need to protect it. Other players will try and steal it so they can score. To do that, you do this movement.” He placed the puck on the ice and showed Aelin the motions “see? You move it left and right and protect it using the blade as shield.” He finished skating and scored again “you try.”

He passed her the stick “This is huge.”

“That’s what she said.” He added with a smirk.

Aelin moved on the ice, her agility on the skates was perfect but he saw her struggle to control the puck that kept escaping.

Aelin screamed frustrated and Rowan moved closer. He pondered how close to get “Can I?” He asked, wary of personal space. When Aelin nodded he moved behind her and his hand covered her on the hilt. Slowly he moved their joined hands showing her the correct movements “Try now.” He pulled back quickly but the scent of lemon verbena still engulfed him. 

A scream of joy awoke him from his thoughts and he noticed Aelin skating among the cones with a far better control. She was a quick study. Of that he had no doubt.

When she scored Aelin celebrated with a loop and a jump and Rowan just stared at her mesmerised by that woman with fire in her veins.

“Well, you can join us next game.”

“No thanks, You brutes can have fun.”

Rowan stopped in front of her “now try and get to the net with me blocking you.”

Aelin grabbed the stick and concentrated in a fierce expression “I am ready.”

Although Rowan went easy on her she never moved much as he blocked at every single try.

“I give up.” She added throwing the stick on the ice “I don’t care about hockey anyway.” 

Rowan huffed a laugh “oh, the brute in me is hurt.”

Aelin was about to dismiss him when he stopped her “What’s a tappo jump?”

Her expression was one of curiosity “there is no such thing.”

“Maya said that she was learning the tappo jump.”

Then understanding dawned on her “the tap toe jump.” Quickly she demonstrated it to him “it’s one of the very basic jumps we teach, a fundamental,” Aelin did another jump but different “this is the bunny hop. Another basic jump.”

“Try the first one again.” She showed him and Rowan observed with interest.

A moment later he tried and crash landed on the ice. Aelin circled around him “All okay old man?”

“I haven’t fallen this much in a lifetime.”

Aelin nodded to his feet “your skates are not meant for this, you have no toe pick.”

“Oh, I have heard of that…”

“Good, now let me go back to my training before class comes in.” And with that she skated away leaving him on his own.

He chuckled to himself. It had been fun. Eventually Rowan went back to his training, allowing Aelin’s music to keep him focused. The team was getting back soon and he had to be prepared.

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[realbylershit]

Alright so it’s safe to say that someone is shouting for Steve to run away from something and the first instinct is to be worried for Steve because he would definitely pull the sacrifice play if he had to…but personally I’m a little bit more worried about Robin (or both of them)..let me explain why.

We know Will is there, a source claimed that in fact ‘everyone’ is. But we also know that Millie isn’t, as a picture of her not being on set right now came up. So it’s safe to say that we most likely have a big portion of the cast around during the shoot and not the entire cast.

In the first recording it was pointed out that someone could have been yelling out Mike’s name instead of the first “Steve!” and whereas that’s personal interpretation I can definitely hear it. And I can also hear Will’s voice out of that. Makes sense, right? Will shouting Mike’s name? That would just mean that Mike is present, too. We knew that he and Will would be attached to the hip in season 5 thanks to the foreshadowing in season 4. And we confirmed that there is someone else that will at some point team up with both of them.

Dum dum dum, Robin.

I personally believe it’s only Will shouting but regardless of you believe it to be and who it actuallyis (Dustin or Jonathan perhaps), they’re telling Steve to run, which means that Steve most likely refuses to leave the battle field.

To point another thing out about the video, I also believe that we can hear Steve himself at the very beginning of the recording and he sounds kind of desperate, in my opinion. If I’m not completely crazy I’m pretty sure I can hear a “Let her go!”

So what I’m trying to say is, what if Vecna has Robin and Steve refuses to leave her side and that’s when himself is targeted, which we can hear in the second recording.

I can’t add the video but Maya Hawke has recently talked about Robin’s arc in season 5 and stated that she’s more involved in the supernatural stuff than ever and finding friends and looking for love.

I find it really hard to believe that they are going to kill off Steve, Dustin’s second father/big brother figure after doing it to Eddie in season 4. I’m pretty sure they introduced him so they didn’t have to kill Steve. Besides, Steve means a lot to most people in the group whereas Robin is probably the least connected person as she’s the newest, meaning that her death would hit everyone, but it wouldn’t break them like Steve’s death would- except for Steve himself.

It’s clear to me and probably most people that Will is going to suffer plenty next season and him making friends with Robin and then losing her to Vecna right away would definitely hit home. And because he already lost Robin, he doesn’t want to lose Steve too.

Just another small theory I wanna throw into the mix:

Will shouting for everyone to run reminds of him telling Joyce to run through the lights in season 1. Despite being in the upside down, he found a way to help Joyce by telling her to run. I’m thinking that in this scenario Vecna might have him trapped somehow, in a way that results him being cut off from the others in some way that they can’t hear him? As in basically torturing him because he can’t help his friends out, who possibly don’t see Vecna coming, and has to watch them die. That at least would explain even more why he’s the one yelling…

[tim-shii]

now playing: " THÈRÉSE " by maya hawke

still bejeweled! `` — a collection of writings inspired by songs

the stakes are high, the water's rough ft. nagi seishiro

your heart was glass, i dropped it ft. mikage reo

don't need no riddle, say it back ft. chigiri hyoma

hope i never lose you, hope it never ends ft. itoshi sae

tell her how you must've lost your mind ft. mikage reo

lyrical smile, indigo eyes ft. isagi yoichi

i remember it all too well ft. bachira, rin, reo

promises oceans deep! `` — wind breaker writings

to be updated soon..

you're my lover! `` — swiftie bf sae agenda

doing it all for red (taylor's version)

for the movie adaptation of our relationship

no hugs on a green light

what would you do? baby if you only knew

made of starlight! `` — hsr writings

bf headcanons! ft. dan heng

what a nerd (threateningly) ft. dan heng

bf headcanons! ft gepard landau

cut off allowances ft. jing yuan + yanqing

soft hours at late hours ft. dan heng

a family of three ft. jing yuan + yanqing

paint on me ft. dan heng

a promise of eternity ft. jing yuan

bf headcanons! ft. caelus

veronicat aristocat ft. gepard

(v.) to swim in nude ft. dan heng, jing yuan, gepard

not-so-friendly spiderman ft. dan heng

an aunt, a grandpa and a minecraft kid ft. stellaron hunters

with s/o who wears glasses ft. dan heng

preppy!bf headcannons ft. dan heng

poker? no. go fish. ft. aventurine

why do we have hands? ft. aventurine

bartender!gallagher meet cute

aventurine as a boyfriend!

jealousy, jealousy! ft. aventurine

my only love ft. aventurine

sleeping beauty ft. aventurine

gleaming, twinkling! `` — bllk writings

pro-player!isagi accidentally hits you with a ball

i'll tell our kids this is how i met their mother ft. mikage reo

things bf!rin would do for you

i'll take with me the polaroids and the memories ft. itoshi rin

palette swatching ft. itoshi sae

i want a hug ft. nagi seishiro

of strawberries and bananas ft. itoshi rin

bachira's dare ft. chigiri hyoma

attempted spiderman kiss ft. itoshi rin

successful-ish spiderman kiss ft. itoshi rin

spiderverse headcanons ft. spiderman!isagi, spiderman!rin, venom!bachira

don't die on my carpet floor please ft. spiderman!rin

i'm not asleep! my mind is awake! ft. itoshi rin

nancy in the kitchen ft. isagi yoichi

cat got your tongue indeed ft. isagi yoichi

nightwing!rin headcanons

over childhood pictures?! ft. itoshi sae

little lady (itoshi!sister)

temporary truce (itoshi!sister)

swatching (again) ft. itoshi sae

thank you for the flowers! ft. itoshi sae

bad idea, right? ft. itoshi sae

a blessing in disguise ft. itoshi sae

tiktok trends with bf!sae

born to be national treasures! `` — misc writings

kiss kiss fall in love ft. fyodor dostoyevsky

he's everything! he's just ken! ft. various characters

daddy's home (shut up) ft. gojo satoru

my bf's roommate is my bestfriend! ft. alhaitham, kaveh

braiding his hair ft. lyney

obsessed with me? finally ft. suna rintaro

❝ SHE REMINDS ME OF MEMORIES. ❞

[theharddeck]

talk with my hands, maybe take it real slow (jake seresin x fem!reader)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: Jake's roommate has a new tattoo and can't stop itching at it...what kind of friend would he be, if he didn't help distract her?

Warnings: this fic is 18+, minors please DNI – we go pretty quickly into smut, featuring the usual--explicit oral sex (both receiving, bc we're feminists like that), and then also PiV sex, including but not limited to, condescension, overstimulation (bc what's the point of fiction if we're not wringing multiple orgasms out of our self insert?) and creampies (do not have unprotected, unnegotiated sex pls)

Length: 7.8k

A/N: sorry about the moodboard being lacluster; I couldn't find a tattoo pic that wasn't on a size 0 thigh or white, so we went without

You hadn’t considered yourself to be a person with particularly awful self control, but then again, you’d never had a tattoo healing on your inner thigh, driving you mad with the need to scratch at it. It’d been 3 weeks since the appointment and your ink was probably 95% healed; the redness had faded entirely and a couple raised patches of roughness were all you had to show for the fact that it was new. Which somehow made the incessant need to itch all the more frustrating, because you were pretty sure it was mostly phantom at this point. 

“Listen, honey, you gotta chill.” Jake’s voice interrupted your inner monologue, from his seat on the couch across the living room. 

Your roommate had started in hard on the Southern pet names when he’d seen that they’d flustered you. Honestly, there was precious little the man wouldn’t do, if it meant making you unnerved. You two didn’t have what you’d call a friendship, but the playful Something between the two of you felt safe and fun. Even if it did mean that Jake seemed to take a little more pleasure than he should’ve, in the face of your pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you replied drily, “are the literal thousands of abrasions on my skin irritating you?”

Jake rolled his eyes at your melodrama. “I can feel you thinking from over here, and it’s taking up real estate that belongs to Maya Hawke,” he gestured to the TV where the latest season of Stranger Things was playing.  

“It itches,” you mumbled, hearing the complaint in your voice and knowing it was pathetic, but too over it to care. 

Jake cut you a long look, like he also heard it, and was embarrassed for you. “Want me to get you some ice?” he asked, and it was sweet of him to offer, but…

“We’re out of ice,” you sighed. “I went through the last two trays in, like, record time, and they’re refreezing now.”

“We have like fourteen trays,” Jake frowned.

“Yeah, well someone,” you paused meaningfully, “drastically depleted our resources when he decided to have a bourbon tasting over the weekend.”

Jake had the grace to look guilty for a  moment. Then it was his turn to sigh dramatically, lifting his arm to the back of the couch and swatting at the cushion next to him. “Alright, kid, c’mere.”

In retrospect, you probably should’ve asked why, or at least deliberated for half a second before doing what he asked. In reality, you pushed off the settee you’d been lounging on, and flopped ungracefully onto the couch next to Jake. You shared a bathroom with the man and he’d seen you on the second day of your period; dignity was a distant memory. 

Still, it didn’t prepare you for Jake pulling your legs apart with one of his large hands, and spreading his fingers over your tattoo, all while calmly turning up the volume of the TV with the remote in his other hand. 

“Jesus, Jake,” you choked out, telling yourself the goosebumps erupting over your whole body were entirely because of your surprise, and not any other reason. “Buy a girl a drink first.”

Jake chuckled, somehow managing to shake his head at you while not looking away from the TV. “You’re the one who’s always telling me my hands are cold as ice.”

Had you said that?

It sounded like something you’d say.

But Jake’s hand on your leg felt anything but cold. Okay, no, if you separated your brain from—well, from anything—you could recognize that his fingers were quite cold, and it was incredibly soothing having them over you. His thumb was brushing lightly over your skin, while the rest of his hand stayed still, and you knew that ice cubes couldn’t do that, but damn, it would’ve been great if they could. You settled back into the couch, relaxing into the soft material and the relief brought by Jake’s hands.

It was a wonderful two minutes. 

Good to know that that was how long it took for the fourth law of thermodynamics to kick in, and for Jake’s fingers to warm up after extended contact with your skin.  

Then a new problem was presented—you couldn’t scratch at yourself without scratching him. You shifted slightly, to see if you could get any type of friction, but Jake’s touch was light enough that he moved with you. You snuck a glance at Jake’s profile, still fixed on the TV screen, and his expression could best be described as incredibly pleased with himself.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” you muttered accusingly.  

“Absolutely,” he said, smugly. “You could fidget up a storm over there, but here you have to just deal with it.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from sticking your tongue out at him petulantly. You folded your hands in your lap, determined to ignore the rising propensity to scratch at yourself. At some point, you’d sunken into the couch until your shoulder was pressed against Jake’s arm, and you shifted so your cheek was resting against him too. His tshirt was soft, and he smelled clean, like a freaking linen candle, which was annoying, because it didn’t help clear the riotous tangle of thoughts rushing through your head.

You did stop fidgeting, though.

“Atta girl,” Jake said quietly, his thumb still moving over your thigh.

Was it hot in here?

It had to be hot in here.

Because this was Jake, your roommate, who’d never shown an ounce of interest in you, being calm as anything with his hand literally on your thigh, and saying things that would’ve sounded like come ons from anyone else.

You tried to focus on the TV, and whatever ridiculous shenanigans the children on it had found themselves in, pulling a deep breath through your nose.

(Immediate mistake, because of said linen candle bullshit). 

On the TV, Nancy’s hair got frizzier, Steve’s life got shittier, and all the while your leg was getting itchier and itchier.

You reached to press a hand over the skin distractedly, forgetting momentarily that Jake’s hand was there until you encountered his fingers instead of your skin. He turned his hand over, his knuckles pressing against your skin while his fingers intercepted your own.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice lightly mocking, and you wrinkled your nose. It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t affected, his hands so close to your burning skin, and he still had the wherewithal to tease you for your poor impulse control.

“Jake,” you whined, trying to untangle your fingers, but his grip was unrelenting, “I’m not gonna scratch, okay, I just need to do something.”

He looked down at you, which you had to admit, was a hell of an experience when your head was practically on his shoulder. 

He blinked slowly, looking at you closely before he opened his hands, letting your fingers go. You pulled your hand back, eyes closing in relief when you pressed them against your skin. It wasn’t as good as scratching, but the pressure helped, and you shifted your fingers—and your nail accidentally dragged against your skin. 

Which was pretty much the worst thing that could happen, because it was like a tease and it shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, but you were half a second away from clawing up your thigh when Jake’s hand closed around your wrist again. 

“Seriously?” he asked, amusement coloring his tone. 

“Just let me,” you pleaded, trying to pull your wrist back. “It’ll take like two seconds and then it’ll hurt and I can stop.”

“You could also get infected or mess up the ink placement,” he said, and you stopped pulling for a moment.

“When did you learn so much about tattoo care?” you grumbled, and Jake chuckled again. It sounded different this close to him, deeper. 

“When my roommate decided to mark up the inside of her leg,” he replied easily. “Now don’t you have a lotion or something you can put on this?”

“I do, but it doesn’t help,” you said, annoyed that he was right. 

“Well, let’s at least try it, yeah?” Jake asked, and you rolled your neck, sighing. 

“Fine,” you pushed yourself off the couch. 

You felt Jake’s eyes following you to the bathroom, so you didn’t scratch at your leg, not wanting to hear more of his teasing. You found the jar of lotion, dropping back onto the couch as you unscrewed the lid. 

“It’s just gonna be sticky and leave white marks on the couch,” you groused, looking confusedly over at Jake when he held his hand out. “What?”

“What do you mean, what,” he retorted, like it was obvious. “I’m not gonna let you do this; you have zero impulse control.”

You were too stunned to resist when he plucked the lotion out of your hands, dipping his fingers into the jar. 

Had you said that the worst thing was an accidental nail brush against your tattoo?

That wasn’t true. 

Because the actual worst thing was having to sit there, pretending everything was fine and normal, as your ridiculously hot roommate started spreading Aquaphor on your inner thigh. 

Jake was nothing if not thorough, his long fingers smoothing the cool lotion over your skin, pressing slowly into you and fucking kneading into your thighs, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that he was entirely serious. Gone was the teasing condescension, the knowing look, and in its place was an unfamiliar gentleness. 

Jake’s head was bent, some of his perfect hair falling in front of his eyes, as he properly tended to your leg like he was a nurse and these were doctor’s orders. Like he wanted to be absolutely careful as he looked after you, like looking after you was even something he did. You swallowed, forcing your breathing to remain even. 

This was fine, this was normal. 

This was absolutely not complicating the tenuous relationship the two of you had, and wasn’t causing you to read into the pet names, the caring, the fact that his big hand was literally between your legs. 

He had to stop, or you had to stop, because now was not the time to be thinking risque things about your roommate, not when he was genuinely being sweet and trying to help.

“I think that’s good,” you said, hoping Jake couldn’t hear the tremor in your voice. 

Jake tipped his head to the side, considering his work, then nodded to himself, satisfied. He rubbed his hands together, wiping the excess lotion on the backs of his knuckles, and screwed the lid of the jar back on. You were readjusting on the couch when he leaned across you to leave the jar on the coffee table and when he shifted back, one of you messed up, because his forearm brushed against your chest. 

“Uh, sorry,” Jake said quickly, “I wasn’t—”

He was interrupted, of course.

Because you could tell yourself you were fine, everything was fine, all day long, but turns out that the slightest, accidental brush of Jake against your breasts had an ungodly whimper spilling out of your mouth before you could stop it. 

He froze. 

Shit. 

“Shit,” you said aloud, hands covering your face in embarrassment, “no, I’m sorry, that wasn’t—uh, we can ignore that—I don’t know what’s going on with me, sorry to make it weird, it’s not your fault—”

You stopped babbling when Jake’s hands closed on your wrists, and, for the upteenth time that night, you let yourself be guided by him. When he pulled your hands away, your breath caught at how close he was, and the unfamiliar expression on his face as he looked between your eyes. 

“I need to know right now,” he said, his voice serious as anything, “if you’re apologizing because you’re embarrassed, or because you didn’t mean it.”

You pressed your lips together, not trusting what sounds would come out of your mouth with Jake’s hands holding your wrists, and his eyes this intense. Whatever he read on your face had Jake’s lips parting, a shaking breath drawn in through them, before they thinned in a lazy smile. 

“And here I thought I was the perv, taking any excuse to get my hands on you, darlin’, when you’ve been wanting me just as bad.”

Your jaw dropped at his blunt words, but what, were you going to say he was wrong? 

Jake’s head cocked sideways when you didn’t say anything, and he guided your hands to the back of his neck, before letting go of them. Your fingers wound around his neck, the ends of his hair brushing your thumbs, and you realized he was waiting for you to say something before this—whatever ‘this’ was—went any further.

“Probably worse,” you admitted, not even trying to hide the breathlessness in your voice, “if I’m honest.”

Jake’s eyes darkened and his grin grew wider. “If that’s how honest sounds, I think I want to hear more of it,” he said.

Fuck, he was going to ruin you.

“Kiss me and find out?” you managed, and Jake huffed out a laugh before reaching for you again. His hands settled on your waist and he lifted to drag you towards him. 

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered before his lips crashed into yours. 

You were still reeling from the title, and how you liked the sound of it a little too much, but Jake’s mouth against yours drove that thought from your head. He kissed you like he’d wanted it for longer than you could’ve expected, his teeth biting at your lower lip, his tongue soothing after it. You shifted to help him as he pulled you towards him, both of you gasping when you settled in his lap. You were thankful his flannel pajamas could stand a bit of residual lotion, just as you were thankful for the pressure of his hands on your waist, fingers pressing into you and pulling you closer. Jake licked at the seam of your lips and you opened for him; when his tongue swept into your mouth, you felt it in your core. And suddenly, or maybe not suddenly, maybe finally, after months of build up, you were desperately needy. 

Your fingers pulled through his hair, and Jake’s hips pressed up when you pulled lightly on the strands. At the motion of his rolling hips, your pajama shorts pressed tightly into your core and the friction felt like building, and Jake broke away from your mouth with a gasp. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you still, and while you appreciated his restraint, you wanted to feel him again. 

You whispered his name as he trailed kisses down your neck, and your breath quickened when he found your pulse point under your jaw. Jake hummed, the vibration echoing over your skin, through you, and you realized he was muttering things against your skin. 

“D’you know how hard these last three weeks have been,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed kisses to new goosebumps, “with you always in those tiny shorts, saying it’s because you can’t have tight clothes over your tattoo?”

You felt lightheaded at the idea of Jake wanting you this whole time, maybe longer, locking it away and refusing to act on it because he didn’t know what you felt.    

“It’s true,” you managed, and Jake laughed, a puff of warm air over your skin. 

“And if that wasn’t enough,” another kiss, another soft suck, “you’ve been so whiny, haven’t you? Always pouting, always needy, making me wonder how you’d sound…”

Your eyes were closed, your world distilled to the heat of his mouth, the heat of his words. You pulled at him, needing his mouth over yours again, and Jake obliged. He was so much softer than you expected, gentle but firm, and he tasted so damn good. 

With him distracted, you rolled your hips again, rewarded by the friction over your core, and you could feel Jake hardening in his pajama pants. It was addictive, and you sought him out again, pouting when Jake stilled your hips again. 

“Baby,” he murmured, and heat shot through you at the pet name, not one he’d used jokingly before, “what was the point of the lotion if you’re going to grind it off against my flannels?”

“You can reapply it later,” you rationalized, but Jake shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. His lips were swollen, his cheeks reddened, and you loved the look of him like this, almost dazed. 

“C’mon,” he prompted you, and guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you managed, and Jake’s hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs. You were between his spread knees, and his hands played with the hem of your shorts before he pulled them down your legs, taking care to not scrape them over your tattoo. The air felt cold on your exposed skin, and Jake swore quietly as he dropped the shorts, staring at you in your underwear with something that felt dangerously close to adoration. 

He leaned closer, and at first you thought it was so he could be more gentle with your fragile panties, but then he pressed a kiss to the outside of your thigh and you jumped, pushing him away, embarrassed again. 

“You don’t—” you started, pursing your lips, “um, you don’t have to…do that. We can—”

Jake’s hands smoothed over your thighs, coming around to cup under your ass. Had you said his hands were cold earlier? You were sure they were burning, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched. 

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against your thighs, his nose brushing the soft skin there, as his hands squeezed you, “nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming ‘bout for months.”

Well, fuck, when he put it like that…

“Okay, then,” you said quietly, weaving your hand into his hair again, and Jake flashed a smile up at you. 

“Okay, then,” he echoed, and his fingers pulled your underwear over your hips. He scooted to the front of the couch, a motion that should’ve been cute for his enthusiasm, but instead was simply devastating. He looked so good like this, eager and hungry, and your breath caught when he licked his lips, your hips canting towards him. 

He didn’t look away from you. 

His green eyes locked on yours as he leaned closer, not pausing when his tongue crept past his lips and you were the one to break, your head tipping back when he licked you. His tongue was flat against you, like the first taste of ice cream, and your head spun at the shamelessness of it. You whimpered when he pulled away, and Jake’s breath was warm as he leaned back again. 

“There’s that sound I was after,” he murmured, his soft words a cutting juxtaposition to his filthy tongue. 

He teased you with soft licks, lapping at your arousal that’d only grown since he’d first touched your thighs earlier tonight. His hands snuck around to pull you apart, spread you on his fingers like he needed his tongue closer, tasting you and drinking you. He was unhurried and it was maddening, and you pulled at his tshirt distractedly, needing to feel his skin.  

“Ah, honey,” Jake muttered as he pulled back. “You taste so good, fucking unbelievable.”

You opened your eyes to find his chest heaving, his eyes dilated and your slick smeared across his chin. He looked so good like this, drunk on you, and you imagined you looked nearly as wrecked. He leaned back to pull his tshirt over his head, and your fingers smoothed over broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, as it was bared to you. 

He tossed the shirt aside and a moment later he was leaning back into your cunt, nuzzling your clit with his nose as his tongue lapped at you. Your knees nearly buckled at the sensation, and Jake groaned, the vibrations only increasing the intensity of the feelings flooding you. His strong hands held you up, spread before him, and he lifted his mouth to tease at your clit. You whined when his tongue rolled around you, alternating tight circles and slow, and your eyes rolled back when he closed his lips and sucked. 

“Jake, oh my god,” you gasped, feeling your stomach tighten. It was too soon, you knew it, but you also couldn’t fight it, and it was practically crashing over you—

Jake pulled back. 

You whined in confusion, looking down to find him looking up at you, a familiar expression of smug awareness on his face. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss to your thigh, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. 

“Told you I’ve been waiting on this for months, honey,” he teased, another wet kiss slightly higher on your thigh. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

Nothing about this felt easy. Not the way he had your body primed for release, every nerve wound tight, not the way you felt it slipping away, and your desperation only climbing. 

You whimpered his name, too gone to be embarrassed by how fucked out you sounded. 

“Aw, baby…” Jake cooed, and you saw his shoulders shift as he repositioned. Before you could anticipate his next move, a broad finger was stroking through your folds, and you cried out, your hands flying to his shoulder to steady yourself. 

“So pretty like this,” Jake soothed, pulling his finger through you, stroking back over you, the pressure perfect, but not enough, “needy. Desperate.”

“Jake, please,” you cried, appalled to find real tears were pushing behind your eyes. After being so close to release, then being denied, then held steady wherever his fingers pulled you, you couldn’t be responsible for the way your body was shaking.

“Bet you’d beg me for it, wouldn’t you?” Jake said, voice even and unbothered. He added another finger, still not entering you, just teasing over you, languid. “You’re all proud when you’re strutting around in those shorts, cute when you ask for help, but not like this, huh? Like this, you know who’s in charge.”

Any response you had was cut off when he plunged both fingers into you. 

No warning, no easing, just sudden pressure and thickness and your body tightened around the sudden intrusion, unrelenting and unexpected and fucking perfect, and you couldn’t stop your orgasm as it ripped through you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake groaned, as he recognized your walls tightening around his fingers. “Thatta girl, come on, give it to me.”

You moaned, your core clenching as your denied release rolled over you, scalding and strong and you felt it in your toes. You didn’t know how you were still standing, you knew the sounds pouring out of you were unbridled, and Jake was proudly talking you through it. 

“So beautiful, baby, you’re doing so good,” he said, his other hand stroking up your neck to support your head. You turned your head desperately, pulling his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it, needing to be grounded. 

“Fuck, baby,” Jake moaned, and his fingers kept their pace inside you. You felt the edges of your orgasm soften as he worked you through it, and as the fingers not in your mouth brushed against your cheek, you realized he was wiping away tears. You were shaking, it was perfect, but his fingers inside you were pressing deeper and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to push you higher again. 

“How we doing, honey?” Jake asked, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes. He was watching you carefully, and he pulled his thumb from your mouth so you could answer him.

“Good,” you whispered, through the clearing haze, “really, really, good.”

Jake hummed, tilting his head as he considered you. His fingers scissored inside of you, and you clenched down on him, hands grasping his shoulders. 

“Then I think you should give me another,” he said, smile growing as your eyes widened. 

“Jake, wait—” you protested, but you went without opposition when he pulled you back to the couch. His fingers paused their exploration but he didn’t pull out of you as he guided you onto your back, propping your knees up carefully. 

“Have to be gentle with that thigh,” he said, his voice growing husky as he settled between your legs. He stroked his fingers again, and your core clamped down on them, still not fully returned from your first high. Any other protest you had died when he bent down again, his mouth returning to your cunt. 

You’d had his tongue, you’d had his fingers, and they’d made you cum like you hadn’t in months. And now suddenly you had both at once, and you were pretty sure it was going to cost you your mind. 

“Jake, fuck,” you keened, your back arching off the couch.

Jake didn’t respond, too busy lapping up your release and thrusting into you. His tongue traced a maddening pattern over your clit as his fingers pressed deeper into you, stretching you.  

“You taste even sweeter like this, baby,” he mumbled into you, and you moaned as you felt his words. His fingers brushed something deep inside of you and you couldn’t breathe; you reached for Jake’s hair, pulling desperately, hoping he could read how impossibly taut you were. 

“You know something,” he mused, like it was the calmest thing in the world, “you came so quick, didn’t you? Came once you had something fucking you, and it was so beautiful, honey…but I never got to hear you beg.” 

“Jake,” you whispered, his name the only word you could manage, the only thing you could say with his fingers brushing that spot and his mouth just a breath away from you. 

“Nah,” he said, his voice low, “I know you could do it so prettily. Won’t you do it for me, sweetheart, won’t you let me hear it? Let me make you cum again?”

He kissed you again, his mouth light and teasing, brushing caresses over your mound but not where you were aching, throbbing, for him. His fingers slowed, torturously, pushing you closer but not fast enough, and you felt your eyes filling again. What was he asking for?

What was anything, what did he need?

“Jake, please,” you gasped, your voice thick. “Please, please—”

“Please what, baby?” Jake asked, another soft kiss. “What do you need?”

“I need to cum,” you practically sobbed. “Please, need it so bad, please, Jake—need you so bad, need you to—”

“That’s right,” Jake practically growled, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “You need me. And I’ve got you, honey, so you can let you go, since you asked so nicely, and I’m gonna take care of you…”

His forearm was banded across your waist, holding you still as his fingers found that spot inside of you, pressed up against it, and your thighs shook as your second orgasm bowled over you. Jake’s tongue was over your clit, then his lips closed, and when you thought you might be ready to let go of the high, he sucked, and you fully shattered. You could feel your nails raking into his back, feel his responding groans through the mouth still pressed to your cunt, as your world dissolved into white heat. It swept over you and you stopped trying to ride it, just let yourself be thrown, buffeted by Jake’s mouth, Jake’s fingers, Jake’s soft words.  

“Fucking gorgeous, baby, you did so good,” Jake was murmuring into the skin of your stomach. His fingers were still inside of you, gently rocking but no longer trying to stimulate you. It would’ve brought tears to your eyes, if they weren’t already streaming, how tender he was being with you. The whiplash was incredible—how quickly he’d brought you to orgasm, how easily he’d denied you, how thoroughly fucked out you were, now that he’d given it to you. 

God, and you hadn’t even had him yet. 

“Jake,” you croaked, your throat hoarse, and he lifted his head to look up at you. 

“What is it, honey?” he asked, voice soft. He was propped up on his elbows, and he shifted slightly, pulling his fingers out of you. You pressed your lips together to stop a whimper from escaping and trying to ignore how empty you felt, and watching quietly as he wiped his hands absently on his pajama pants before looking back up at you. 

You lifted a hand to brush away some of his hair that’d fallen into his face. You shifted slightly, pulling the hem of your tshirt down to wipe at his chin, clean him up a little. It was rough, not the intended purpose of the garment, and Jake laughed a little at the clumsiness of the action, pressing his jaw into your cotton-covered hand, to help you as you wiped at his face. 

You bit your lip, more to stop yourself from smiling so wide it made you hurt, looking down at him, propped up on his elbows 

He looked proud. 

He looked content, and it made your heart swell uncomfortably in your chest, that he’d look like that after taking care of you. But the longer you looked at him, something like doubt flickered behind his eyes and he cleared his throat, looking away. 

“If…” he started, and he shook his head, like he was clearing the fog after a night out. “Uh, you know, if that’s too much…or not what you wanted, or something, we can just say it was a distraction. You know, to get your mind off the tattoo.”

You hadn’t thought about the thing in what felt like a lifetime.

More importantly, you saw Jake still wasn’t meeting your eyes, like he expected you to say that that’s all this was, and he was worried you’d see too much if you were looking at him when you said it. It broke your heart, that he would push away his own repressed feelings, if it meant protecting yours. 

Although, to be fair, you’d both been more honest in the last thirty minutes than you’d been in the months before, so it was probably on you, as well as him. 

You carded your fingers through his hair again, waiting.

It took another couple seconds, but Jake steeled himself and looked back at you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d missed the green of them. 

In the height of everything, they’d been hooded and dark, the bright color nearly lost in his blown pupils. But like this, clear and sweet, you thought you might like this better. 

“It wasn’t too much,” you said, simply.

Jake’s shoulders dropped, just slightly, and you saw him wanting to contest it, and so you shook your head. 

“I think that’s a conversation for later,” you said gently, “when we’re both a little more clothed, hmm?”

“Oh,” Jake said, his head turning quickly as he looked around for your pajama shorts. “I can reach—”

You wanted to roll your eyes and you wanted to pinch him, just a little, to get him to listen to you. “That’s not what I meant,” you corrected. “I’m not…I’m not ready to be done. Besides, we han’t gotten you off yet.”

“Oh, that’s okay, that’s not what this was about,” Jake said quickly and you tilted your head, pushing yourself up to sitting. 

Jake was still between your spread knees, your faces close together now, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a quick reassurance before you reached between the two of you. 

Jake jumped when your hand slid over the front of his pajama pants, and you felt like cooing. Even through the thick cotton, you felt him respond to your touch. The fabric had to be adding to the illusion, because he felt enormous under the flannel. 

And it was very gentlemanly that this was for you, that he didn’t want this to be a thing about reciprocity, but in a much more tangible way, he’d made you feel infinite, just a few minutes ago. If you could do the same for him, you imagined you’d probably feel just as proud as he had, to see you come undone.

“What’d you say,” you asked innocently, your fingers trailing up the length of him, “about distracting me?”

When you looked back up at Jake, his eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly, deliberate, like he was holding his breath. 

Sweet man. 

You leaned back up to kiss him gently, waiting for him to kiss you back. It took only a moment, and you bit back a moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. You kissed him softly for a minute, gentle lips, gentle tastes, coaxing. When you pulled back, Jake’s lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes to look at you. 

“I don’t know,” you lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I think I’d be pretty distracted if I were choking on your dick, Jake.”

“Jesus,” Jake whispered, and his hips bucked into your touch. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

You licked your lips, his words from earlier coming back to you. “Nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

Jake surged forward, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you to him. You tasted his longing in this kiss, the tight reins he held himself in check with, and how desperately he wanted to give them to you, if only for a moment. You wanted that, and maybe for a little longer. So you kissed him for a moment more, then slid off the couch, settling between his knees like before, but this time, he stayed with his back against the back of the couch, and you were on the ground. 

“Wait,” he said, leaning over to grab a pillow, and gesturing for you to use it under your knees.  

Forget rolling your eyes or pinching him, did you want to marry him?

You shook the thought out of your head, settling on the cushion and reaching up to help Jake slide the pajama pants down. He hooked his boxer briefs along with them, and once they slid past his hips, his cock sprang free. 

“Holy fuck, Seresin,” you whispered, looking up at his face. Jake shrugged, a kind of bashful you hadn’t seen him before. One of his hands fisted his cock loosely, like he needed something to do, and you reached up to pry his fingers away. 

No wonder he walked around like he did. 

As you wrapped your hands around him, replacing his fingers, you couldn’t deny a fresh wave of arousal washed over you. His wasn’t the longest dick you’d seen, but he was thick, a dusty rose color that you’d kill for a lipstick match of—which just made you think of why you were waiting so long to get him in your mouth. 

But he’d teased you, and when you glanced up at Jake, his hands clenched at his sides, his stomach tight, you figured he was due for a taste of his own medicine. 

You kissed up his thighs slowly, loving the contrast of wiry hair over smooth skin, and when you got to his cock, you let out a warm breath over the tip. As you watched, a smooth drop of precum appeared at the edge of his cock, and you frowned in mock sympathy, knowing how worked up he must’ve been from finishing you, while denying himself. 

“Bet you’d beg something pretty yourself, Jake,” you teased softly, licking at the drop of moisture and pulling his salty taste back into your mouth. You hummed, immediately salivating for more, but Jake’s hips jerked up as he choked in a breath.

“Darlin’...” he said, his voice low, and you had mercy on him, not needing to hear the words to know how badly he wanted this. 

“Good thing I’m nicer than you, hmm?” you asked, before you licked at him again. 

Jake’s head fell back limply as you tongued his tip, teasing the sensitive head before you licked up the length of him. This was supposed to be for him, but as you were here, you were lost in the exploration of him—the gorgeous weight of him, the musky scent of him, the rich taste, and the sounds he was making. 

You kind of loved how quiet he was being, when it was clearly costing him dearly. 

It meant that when he did burst, it was going to be loud, and you wanted that break. You kissed your way lightly back to his tip, before opening your mouth and pulling him in. 

You’d been joking earlier, about it being distracting, but fuck. The ache to your jaw was immediate, your mouth open as wide as it could to accommodate his thickness. But it felt so good, deeply satisfying, to be able to hold him like this. Warm and thick in your mouth, stretching you—you moaned around him, imagining him filling you. You hollowed your cheeks lightly, sucking, and Jake groaned above you. 

There it was. 

You pushed yourself deeper onto him, holding your breath and fighting your gag reflex, and Jake’s hands shot out to hold the back of your head, his breath a low moan that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. 

You clenched your thighs together, the sound of him and the weight of him had you feeling so empty, while you knew you were physically stretching to your limits. You pulled off of him, a trail of saliva falling from between your lips and his tip, and Jake swore softly at the sight. 

“That mouth, baby,” he groaned, and you felt his thumb trace your lips, smearing your spit across it. You opened your mouth, holding out your tongue and Jake groaned again, feeding his cock back into your mouth.

You felt like he could see straight through you.

That was how it felt, his eyes boring into you as his cock stretched your jaw and his hips pressed slowly deeper. Your nostrils flared and your eyes were streaming again, but you wanted this, wanted him, wanted him to find his release in you, as you had in him. You couldn’t take him all the way down your throat, not now, although you relished the idea of training, so you found a rhythm that seemed to work for both of you. 

Jake’s hips rose slightly to meet you, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, alternating sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip. Your other hands stroked the part of him that you couldn’t fit, squeezing and pulling and you heard Jake’s breathing getting heavier. You were lightheaded, overwhelmed by him, but you couldn’t stop, not for something as simple as air. 

The stretch of him was so good, unrelenting and perfect, and the steadiness with which he held himself in check, it felt like a promise. It made your core ache, throbbing and empty, but you reached up to play with his balls. One of your hands cupped him lightly and then Jake was pulling you off of him. 

You choked at the sudden influx of air as Jake set you back on your thighs, his hands smoothing over your face as he checked you were okay. You couldn’t remember a time you’d felt better, lightheaded and dreamy, but you nodded obediently in answer to the unspoken question, and Jake pulled you to standing. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you knew with absolute certainty that you’d follow him.

Mercifully, it was just around the couch, and when you understood his plan, you whimpered slightly, hoping you could take it. You braced your forearms on the armrest of the coach, rocking back on your hips, presenting your ass to him, and Jake was already behind you, covering you. His long arms draped over yours, pressing you into the couch, even as his knee worked between your thighs, spreading your legs. You moaned when you felt his cock slap against your thighs, and one of Jake’s hands fell to between your legs to cup your cunt. 

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, voice somehow both rough and awed. “Is this new? You work yourself up, getting me off?”

You meant to say ‘obviously, asshole’, or ‘as if you didn’t know it’, but what came out was a truly pathetic, “Jake, please…”

He chuckled, his body stretched over yours, and the sound broke off when he guided his cock towards your core. 

“Honey, you’re so wet and warm, fuck. Need to be in you, baby, need to feel this tight cunt—”

“Do it already,” you cried, rewarded by another deep laugh from Jake, and then you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because that thick cock was pushing into you. 

It was a good thing he was holding you up. 

Your body was shaking to accommodate him, already loosened from your orgasms and his fingers, but the stretch still bordered on painful, and you dropped your head to your forearms as he pushed into you. You weren’t doing anything, you were simply there, letting him fuck into you slowly, and you couldn’t think of anywhere better to be. 

“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake groaned, and you knew he was trying to go slow, but that didn’t make the stretch any more attainable.

“Need you,” you managed. “Please, Jake, want to be full—”

His hips slammed forward and you cried out as he bottomed out into you. 

You felt impaled, you felt him in your throat, you felt like this was everything you could want and you trembled but held him in you. You felt full, and it was so, so good.  

“Honey,” Jake gritted, “I’ve got to move, but I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m good,” you whispered, “let me feel you.”

He groaned, another gorgeous iteration of that sound, and when he pulled back, you clawed at the edge of the couch. It was like he was shifting your center of gravity, but the pull was re-orienting. You had no choice but to surrender to it. 

Your whole universe was balanced on the edge of the sofa. 

Jake’s thick cock, stuffing you. Jake’s strong chest, pressed against your back, his arms holding you up, pulling you to him. Jake’s sweat, dripping off of him and onto you, sweet and sticky and heady. The pull and push of him, overwhelming and deep, remaking you. 

You weren’t going to cum from this; it was too much, but it was too good to stop. You’d already had yours, and you could hear how good it was for Jake, could feel it in the tight clench of his hands and the short length of his thrusts. 

Jake groaned, a throaty sound that jolted through you as he pulled you back onto his dick.

“Sweetheart you feel so good…is this what we’ve been missing out on? This tight as fuck cunt, that I can just feel clenching around me? Touch yourself, honey, I need to feel you come again, want to feel you come on my cock.”

You couldn’t be sure if you were crying or babbling, but when Jake told you to play with yourself, you summoned your boneless limbs to do as he asked. 

When your fingers brushed your clit, you immediately pulled back; it was too much. 

“I can’t,” you gasped, hands falling back to brace against the couch. “It’s too much, Jake, I can’t–”

“Poor baby,” Jake gritted, and one of his hands smoothed down your back before dipping around to your stomach and finding his way to your clit. Your knees buckled and your hips jerked away from his hand, but a moment later you were pressing into him, needing the perfect pain of his touch. 

“Honey, you’re doing so good,” Jake’s voice was tight. “God, you feel unreal, clenching down on me like that. Are you gonna cum again? Is this pussy going to cum for me?” 

“Jake,” you sobbed, his name the only prayer you could manage.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothed, his touch gentling, even as his hips sped up. “I’m almost there; I know you are too. Where can I come, honey, where do you want me–”

“Jake,” you moaned, your head thrashing from side to side. It was too much, it wasn’t enough, but you knew you needed him. “In me…please..Jake...”

“Holy fuck,” Jake groaned. “Baby, are you sure I–”

You bucked back into him, the thought of losing his heat and his presence nearly unbearable. “Need you,” you whimpered. “Jake, please–”

“I’m right here,” Jake’s hips pistoned impossibly faster. “Fuck, I’m here, I’ve got you. Shit, honey, you feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum, baby, please–”

He ground his hips deep into you and rolled his fingers over your clit once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out and you felt Jake grunt as he caught you, his hips pounding into you a couple more times and he stilled with another beautiful moan as he pumped his release into you. You felt him, hot and pulsing inside of you, and you wanted to curl up into that feeling forever—warm, full, safe. 

Jake summoned some kind of strength as he turned the both of you, him settling onto the ground and you on his lap, your cunt clenching around him, like you still couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. You turned into his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you, cradling you, somehow knowing how intense that had been and that you needed the warmth of his chest before you could come back down. 

You were shaking, incredibly exhausted but deeply satisfied. And as you drifted back, you became aware of the tangible things around you—Jake’s chest hair prickling your face. Stranger Things still playing, on the TV. The cool air in the room around you, the sticky remains between your thighs. 

You lifted your head to find Jake looking down at you, his expression careful, like he was worried what he’d see. Your eyes closed again, and you managed a smile before you turned your face into his chest again, pressing a kiss to whatever was closest. His hands were locked around your back, but you could feel his thumb brushing over your skin, lightly. And it was wild, that that was what had started this all, and if you’d had the energy for it, you would’ve laughed. 

You could deal with the repercussions later, what this meant for your roommate situation, if your thigh was any worse for wear, any of that. Because that motion, that comforting gesture that Jake didn’t even seem to be aware he was doing—that meant that this was always where you were gonna end up. 

//

tagging: @bradshawsbitch @callsign-fangirl @laracrofted @datemephoenix @mandylove1000 @withahappyrefrain @gigisimsonmars @babyonboardfloyd @blue-aconite @mxgyver @hangmanbrainrot @lt-bradshaw @wildbornsiren @fuckyeahhangman @double-j @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @teacupsandtopgun @thedroneranger

[will80sbyers]

How do you recover the DMS on twitter because it doesn't make me scroll past a certain point for some reason but I talked about this Jacob Moran kid with friends that brought it up months ago because Noah was following him and we reached the conclusion it didn't make much sense for him to be the "love interest"

that BY THE WAY is not even a confirmed thing because it comes from a random guy on twitter that didn't really provide any proof for him having supposed leaks:

he said he knows someone on set and had direct video calls with this person that's also an adult 40+ but is supposedly spilling NDA secrets to him because his mom is friends with this person and this person apparently told him there was another love interest for Will and other stuff which I have all saved and screenshotted

if its true and you are from the production and want to fire this person that's supposedly this stupid to blab about things with an nda to a 19yo that goes on to write in in a chat with 30 people hit me up because I'm over the leakers so I'll give you all the details

But for how I see it, it's not even sure, because there's no proof and so no reliability that I can attest to for now

and honestly it wouldn't make any sense narratively past a thing like a random kid having a crush on him at school and Mike being jealous of that - which would be for Byler's development lmao

BUT ANYWAY

First of all this Jacob kid is 16/17 and Noah is 20 😶

And this kid was fans of Stranger Things for years and even had videos of him going to visit the Hawkins lab as a fan years ago, he follows part of the cast because of that imo

he could have a job as an extra maybe because he knows Noah, but I'm not sure because I've been following him for months and he didn't post anything that made me think he was working on stranger things tbh

he knows Noah either from before from some connections or because they go to the same place to do the climbing sport thing, they are probably just friends that hang out sometimes + he starred in Black Phone with Maya's father Ethan Hawke so he probably got to know people from that too

[littlexscarletxwitch]

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, based on endgame by taylor swift (you don't understand how much i'm loving this song), cute gf flo

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 2.2k

note: omg, it's finally here. I'm so sorry it took me sooo long, it just I was super busy. Was this inspire by Ms. Taylor Swift? Yes, yes it was. I really hope you guys like this one. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Love you all so much <3

note 2: guys, I'm currently reading 'Delilah Green doesnt' care' and it's giving me so many ideas for fics. So would any of you be interest in more mum!florence? Please let me know. Xoxo, M

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

Your eyes were closed, your head was on her chest listening to her steady heartbeats, a soft smile formed on your lips.

“Promise me this is forever,” you whispered. 

You knew she was awake, she was doing the same thing as you, enjoying the moment, living in the present.

Your eyes found hers already looking at you. 

“I promise,” she said, her smile mirroring yours. 

Her lips found yours as if sealing the promise forever, but nothing ever lasts forever. The kiss that was first sweet and soft and filled with love, turned bitter, harsh and cold. You pulled back confusion written all over your face. 

You blink once then twice, and suddenly you were waking up on your bed, alone. You cursed yourself at the stupid memory. It was so pathetic to still think about Florence that way. You two were history, long forgotten, just a memory of your adolescence. 

You shook your head, trying to wake up your foggy brain from the nap you had taken. And decided to get some work done as a way to clear your head from your silly old fantasies.  

You made yourself a cup of tea, grabbed your notebook and put your headphones on. You only had three more months to finish your second album. The deadline wasn’t much of a concern of yours, what bothered you was the lack of inspiration. Every lyric you would write down was just trash, it was as if you were missing something. So far you had only five finished songs, and you needed ten more to have the album finished. 

You were humming, moving your head to the beat as you let your brain come up with the right words, but it felt as if you were stuck.

“I wanna be your endgame,” you sang to the beat. “I wanna be, I wanna be your… ” you threw your head back in annoyance, frustration getting the best out of you. 

You had been sitting on the floor for the last hour, trying to finish this one song but you were not even close to it. You took a deep breath trying not to lose your shit. Your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a new notification and that took your whole attention. 

“Y/n Y/l/n and Drew Starkey spotted out for dinner,” you read out loud and couldn’t help rolling your eyes at the link your manager and best friend had sent you.

According to the news, you were dating both Drew Starkey and Joe Keery. You also almost got engaged the week before to Rudy Pankow, but apparently cheated on him with Maya Hawke. You knew better than to actually pay attention to fake news, but you couldn’t help to. After all that was now your life, the life of a startpop in the making, so much for a boring Oxford kid. 

Your reputation precedes you, in rumours you were knee-deep. But there was nothing you could do about it. Exhausted from your social life and the poor lack of motivation to do the one thing you loved the most, you decided to go out on a walk, hoping it would help to clear your thoughts about both the fake news and Florence, who you tried to ignore from thinking of. But ever since that dream you found yourself thinking about her more often. 

You knew she was as famous as you were, maybe even more. You had to admit to yourself that some nights you found some kind of comfort in her movies, watching her cute pouty face, the one she was most known for. 

She was your first love, she taught you how to love, what it was to be loved. Of course it wasn’t easy to forget about her, even after all these years, some part of you still craved her love. It wasn’t that you didn’t love each other when you both decided to go separate ways, it was because things weren’t so simple anymore. You two weren’t just two teenargs in love, you were slowly becoming adults. She had booked roles and you were making your way into the music industry. 

And without the two of you knowing you two just drifted apart, the two of you too caught up in your careers. But you loved her, so you decided to let her go, hoping and praying to the universe that maybe she would come back to you one day. 

Your thoughts were interrupted as you opened the door to your local cafe and someone bumped into you. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t… “ but you stopped cold once you saw the strangers eyes. 

“Y/n?” she asked, her voice as soft and raspy as you remembered. “What are you doing here?” a smile formed on her face, as if she was genuinely happy to see you. 

You shook your head trying to clear out your mind, was Florence really in front of you? “I, um, I lived here,” you blinked once, twice and she was still there. “Just around the corner,” you added, cursing yourself for being so awkward. “What are you doing here?” 

Was this a sign of the universe? Have your prayers been answered? 

“Visiting my family,” right her family, you thought. “Well, not just that, I’m also working,” she scratched the back of her neck. “I was actually hoping to see you, too.”

“Really?” that had to mean something, the universe couldn't be messing around with you this cruelly. Right?

“Yeah, I have, um… I have been thinking about you.” she smiled at you and you felt the butterflies in your stomach. “I think we should talk.”

“I, um,” what were you supposed to say? Were you willingly going to agree to spend time with the love of your life as if the two of you were going to be just friends? What was that supposed to mean?

“Yeah, sure. When are you free?” you finally agree.

You mentally checked your schedule, you were supposed to finish your songs but taking a break wouldn’t hurt anybody. Plus, you were going to get your coffee and get back to it right away. 

“Um, what about now?” 

Shit, you thought. She wasn’t going to give you any time to prepare yourself. Well, you better get into it, rip it off like a band aid. 

“Okay, I was going to get a coffee and then we can…”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time. I’m going to find us a table.”

You order your coffee while mentally preparing for the conversation the two of you were going to have. What was she on about? Was it really a big coincidence? Did the universe put her in our path for some reason? You shook your head, you needed to stop thinking about the universe’s way of working for a second.

They handed you your coffee and now you had no more excuses to avoid her, not that you wanted to. Some part of you long to be near her, but you were scared of what this whole thing was about. 

“So, um, what’s up with Drew?” she tried to pretend she didn’t care but was actually dying to know if you were actually dating him, not that you noticed it.

“Who?”

“Drew? Starkey?”

“Oh, yeah, Drew,” you chuckled, silly you for forgetting your own friend. “He’s just a friend, a really good friend,” was it your imagination or did she just let out a breath of relief. “What about Ashley?” you asked before taking a sip of your coffee. 

She smiled at you, “She’s also a really good friend.”

“So, um…”

“Listen, Y/n…”

The both of you chuckled. 

“You go first, Flo”

That nickname. It was stupid because everyone who knew her would call her ‘Flo’, but coming out of your lips felt different. She had missed hearing her name on your lips, she had missed you. 

“I’m just going to say it, okay?” you only nodded. “I lied earlier, I’m not here for work or visiting my family. I came here to find you,” your lips parted in disbelief. “Ever since we broke things apart, I had been feeling like something was missing, Y/n. And I recently realised it was you. Well, I saw the article about you getting married and all I could think of was that something wasn’t right.”

“Florence I…”

“No, please let me finish,” she cut you off. “I understand that  we are strangers to each other, but I would love to get to know you once again. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, it can be like a fresh start. I just really need you in my life, Y/n. I miss my best friend.”

You took another sip of your coffee, stealing time before giving her an answer. The truth was you already knew what you wanted, you knew it the moment you sat at the table, but you wanted to mess with her just a little bit. 

You put your cup down, and finally your eyes found hers, “I would like nothing more.”

[...]

Ever since that day, Florence and you had been spending everyday together. Catching up with each other and going back to old habits. 

The more you hang out with her, the more you could feel your old feeling coming back. But you didn’t want to rush things just to ruin them again. But one particular afternoon you couldn't hold back anymore and decided to do something about it. 

She had fallen asleep 30 minutes ago, you chuckled as you realised her current state because she had picked out the movie but turns out she was more tired than what she let you see. 

You headed to your small studio and decided to get back to the song you were working on before running into Florence. You  knew exactly what you wanted to say, having found your new inspiration a few weeks ago. 

You pressed play and the music started playing, you already had a few things written down in your notebook you just needed to put all your ideas together. 

You were so lost and immersed in finishing the song, going at it back and forth, changing some lyrics, singing some ideas, writing and crossing out some bits, that you didn’t realise someone was watching you just when you were about to finish. 

You had already recorded the whole song and were just checking it out when Florence leaned in the frame door. 

Florence smiled as she listened to your sweet voice. She wondered who this song was about. 

Knew her when I was young, reconnected when we were little bit older

Both sprung, I got issues and chips on both of my shoulders

She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

Reputation precedes me, in rumors, I'm knee-deep

The truth is, it’s easier to ignore it, believe me

She felt her heart shrinking in her chest.

Even when we'd argue, we'd not do it for long

And you understand the good and bad end up in the song

She listened closely to the song as you hummed to it.

For all your beautiful traits and the way you do it with ease

For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities

Her heartbeat and body temperature were rising.

I've made mistakes and made some choices, that's hard to deny

After the storm, something was born on the 4th of July

I've passed days without fun, this end game is the one

With four words on the tip of my tongue, I'll never say it

She couldn't take it any longer. 

“I like it,” she said, getting closer to where you were sitting. “It’s catchy,” she said, trying to shake her feeling away. That song could be about anyone.

“I feel like something’s missing,” you scrunch your nose.

“Sing the corus to me, please,” she looked at you with her doe eyes and you swear you could have melted in that moment. 

You shook your head with a smile on your face and compiled, “I wanna be your endgame, endgame,” you finished singing the chorus. “And then it goes. Big reputation, big reputation. Ooh, you and me, we got big reputations, ah,” you sang, trying to not look at Florence. 

“You know, it sounds awfully familiar,” she teased, wanting nothing more than for it to be true. 

“And you heard about me, ooh. I got some big enemies,” you kept on going.

“What are you trying to say, Y/n?” she kept on pushing you. 

“Big reputation, big reputation. Ooh, you and me would be a big conversation, ah. And I heard about you, ooh. You like the bad ones, too,” you finished, trying to tell her that you were thinking exactly what she was thinking. 

She was so close to you now, her knees brushing against yours, sending electricity throughout your body. You could feel her hot breath on your lips. 

“I want to…” she didn’t finish her sentence because you were already nodding and she smashed her lips to yours in a second. 

You felt as if a wave of cold water was washing over you. Her lips felt both familiar and new at the same time. You felt at home as she wrapped her arm around your waist and her other hand cupped your cheek. You didn’t want to ever stop kissing her, but both you and her needed to breathe so ultimately pulled apart. 

She rested her forehead on yours, both of her hands cupping your cheeks, caressing your skin with her fingertips. 

“I wanna be your endgame,” you quietly sang to her. 

She chuckled before kissing you again and again and again. 

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! &lt;3

-M

[love-byers]

What do you think about people saying that us Bylers are not supporting Robin as a character and they only see her as a gay mentor for Mike & Will? That we only see Rovickie as gay mentors for them. Some people are saying that because we pay alot of attention to Byler that it overshadowed Robin of her coming out as lesbian, personally i disagree with this, obviously everybody has their own opinions but I we can also voice our own. With Robin, I obviously see her as her own character yk? I don't see her as just a gay mentor for the kids, Robin is her own person, Rovickie is their own ship, I know it may look like I probably just see her as just a gay mentor but it's really not like that, she is an absolutely amazing character, she is for sure as hell a good example for people who are in the closet? I feel the same with Rovickie. Rovickie is their own ship, but I really don't see anything wrong with wanting them to guide Mike & Will, it's a necessity imo because their soo young and they don't know how to deal with all of this (especially in the 80s) they need help and guidance. But yeah I went on a whole rant haha, BTW I'm sorry if I don't explain well lol

i actually just saw the thing you're talking about and screenshotted it to post here!! i honestly think its so dumb. and i dont just say that because im a byler fan and feel attacked

if you're a byler fan and run a byler account, no shit you're going to mostly post about byler. if you don't run a robin blog/account you probably don't mention her as much as whatever your account is dedicated to. i do talk about other ST topics and general theories but its mostly byler. because thats just what i like to talk about. so yes a lot of the time when i mention other characters its in relation to byler, not always though. that doesn't mean i dont like the characters or only view them as support beams for byler.

as a lesbian i love robin and think she's wonderful representation. i heard it was maya hawke's idea which i think means robin was originally going to be straight and just didn't see steve that way so it was going to be about him accepting the fact that a girl doesn't like him just because. but i'm so happy maya suggested that because its eons better than the original. robin is a great character and i think her coming out scene is so perfect and well written. her fear is so relatable, that feeling when you realize your guy friend likes you but you really do love him and don't want to lose him? its scary. and maya portrayed that beautifully. seeing her be accepted by steve was so emotional and also really important.

but i don't say all of that every day because i'm not a robin blog. i've posted about her/rovickie a few times without relation to byler, but yes i frequently mention parallels and mike and will interacting with robin and vickie in s5. because i am absolutely PUMPED FOR THAT. will is my favorite character and i think it would be really touching to see him interact with another queer person and feel like he can finally open up and feel safe while doing it. i don't know why some people think we're evil for wanting that. like its such a real thing for queer youth, making your first gay friend, perhaps someone a bit older and more realized/confident, and being SO happy that you can speak freely and be yourself. i want that for will who at this point in the story feels like a mistake, and of course mike makes him feel better about that as he said, but he cant speak freely around him. he could do that with robin. he probably feels like the only gay person in hawkins, so imagine how happy he would be to find out there's MORE!! THEY EXIST!! YOU'RE NOT ALONE!!!!

if you don't want to see queer characters connect especially in the 80s i honestly don't know what to say. you've got some serious pettiness problems if you don't want that

and i also hate the trend of diehard ST fans acting like the characters are real people. they're made up. you can't hurt their feelings. getting offended on behalf of a character is some real chronically online behavior.

there is no quota on how many times you have to post about a certain character. its your account and they're not real people so you can do WHATEVER YOU WANT. for every post you make relating robin to will or rovickie to byler, you don't have to make another post talking about how great robin is to make up for it. that's stupid. i seriously dont know what they expect when they go on a BYLER ACCOUNT.

i used to get attacked on twt for only mentioning el in relation to byler, which first of all wasn't true, but even if it was WHO CARES??? i was a byler account literally WHAT DID THEY EXPECT??? it hurts no one. people just hate byler fans (which honestly i lowkey understand cause some of us are terribly annoying) and look for any reason to sound justified when they express that hate.

you dont have to equally divide your love and attention to all the characters. you don't. at all.

[del-stars]

Now I’m curious. Which current nepo-baby would match with the marauders?

i believe this ask is inspired by this post from @s3raphinaa !!

based purely on vibes and things that celebrity said one time:

stretching the definition of current to say that sirius black is y2k paris hilton/kim k. just famous for no particular reason and proud of it. people ask him why he's famous and he'll say something along the lines of i'm pretty, everyone wants to be me, etc. etc. he definitely also leaked his own sex tape

james gives me lily-rose depp vibes very specifically for that quote where she's like 'i actually work really hard so calling me a nepo baby is really unfair.' just positively tone-deaf. he definitely does something with his nepotism like acting or music, but he's just far too out of touch to realise that it's because his parents are globally famous

for no particular reason i am saying remus is maya hawke. does pretty decent for himself, definitely booked and busy. like he's trying to make his own money so he is clocked in, but definitely recognises/acknowledges that a lot of his opportunities are due to nepotism

peter is clairo. for the reaction that i'm sure some people just had: what, she's a nepo baby? peter is a grand-slam indie bedroom pop artist, captures the feeling of being the isolated, awkward kid in a way that the internet just devours, but yes, his dad owns top golf

marlene is zoe kravitz. daughter of two really fucking cool parents who ended up also being really fucking cool in her own right. definite trendsetter, fashion icon, and stunningly gorgeous but that's just my opinion

lily and her sister are elle and dakota fanning, that sort of sibling nepotism. petunia gets famous as a child actor, when lily is much younger, and then lily grows up and eventually becomes more beloved than her. you see the parallels here

regulus. regulus is bella hadid. definitely got where he is because of his head start in life, but also really good at what he does, and also we are all so sorry about your mom. the constant comparisons to his sibling, their distance in the public eye, and the superseding parental fame by just staying booked and being iconic.

pandora and evan are willow and jaden. i dont know if i need to explain this at length, they just are. crazily famous parents, but they strike out on their own and do a little bit of everything

barty is hailey bieber very specifically when she wore that 'nepo baby' t-shirt, but it goes over much better when he does it. just does not give a fuck. yes, he's a nepo baby, he only sort-of works, but he's definitely got his own very intense fanbase

[sleep02sunshiine]

what episodes do you think byler's key moments will happen (like the painting/realisation, confession, get together) ect?

I don't think the paiting is gonna play a big role in this but Mike is atleast gonna acknowledge the painting and the lie, because in S1 E01 we learn that Will can't lie to Mike (e.g. "the roll was a 7, it got me, the demogorgon got me") so it's possible for Mike to have seen through that lie in the van scene already, but he just didn't wanna say anything/question Will. Alas that is not what I am gonna analysis right now. If we recall what Maya Hawke said in an interview, the episodes are gonna be movie length, so it could happen anywhere. Though probably later in the season. As for a realisation, i think it's gonna be a little before he talks to Eleven. And as for a confession, I don't see it happening until maybe E05? And them getting together would probably take a while, as after the confession they don't wanna imediately seem weird (e.g. suspicion from the other characters). But they are definitely a thing in the last episode.

thanks for the ask, aswell that you written two!