#i need to make some more st jewelry

[sleepiesttoken]

New fan here: If I make a sleep token-themed bracelet, what’s a word I should put on there? I was just thinking of putting Worship but idk

i think worship is perfect! you could also do the album names/acronyms if you have a fav album or one of the members names if you have a fav? or even just ST? or a song you really like/symbolism from a song or album you like

i made a keychain a while ago that just said ‘sleep token’ because i was not feeling very creative i guess lol but there’s SO much you could do! i also made a morse code necklace that said ‘sleep token’ with red, white and black beads. so still representing them but not screaming sleep token ya know?

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Set 4 months before the 10th Hunger Games.

WARNING: Dark!Coriolanus, Spit kink, dry humping, slight degradation, fingering (f receiving), reference to stalking

The day of love, the ancient holiday of St. Valentine's Day, better known as just Valentine's Day for short, was vastly approaching. Rom-coms were clogging up nearly every station on Capitol TV, every grocer and sweet shop had large hearts full of candies on display, jewelry stores had diamond rings on display in the front windows, restaurants were being flooded with calls about holiday dinner reservations, and florist shops were bombarded with orders for roses.

February was the month of love and it seemed that everyone was losing their mind over it. But for different reasons. Couples were trying to find the perfect gift for their significant other while shop owners were trying to cash out on the commercialism of the holiday celebrating love.

You weren't a fan of the holiday, but why would you be when you've never had anyone give you anything on February 14th? You weren't anything special, just a girl that always has her nose in her books.

You were a bookworm, an impeccable student, and a good girl. Nobody notices girls like you.

You thought that nobody noticed you.

But, it turns out, you were wrong.

Your classmate at the Academy- a tall, skeletal thin boy with messy platinum curls and sparkling sky blue eyes had taken a liking to you.

In fact, he more than liked you.

The top student of the Academy was infatuated with you.

No, no, that wasn't it.

No, he was obsessed with you.

Yes, Coriolanus Snow was obsessed with you. He'd been watching you from afar for years, but now his obsession was growing to the point where he knew just watching you wasn't going to be enough anymore.

Coriolanus just had to have you.

He needed to make you his.

You were like a drug to him, he craved you and had to have you for his sanity.

So, since it was the month of love, Coriolanus Snow decided that he was ready to finally make you his.

How would he do that? Well, by being your secret admirer during love week of course.

Then on the day of love, he'd reveal himself to you; forever making you his.

On February 7th you walked into the Academy like you did any other day. You avoided the judgemental stares and gossiping from the snobs as you made your way to your locker. When you reached it, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Or at least until you opened the metal box, only to reveal a white rose on the shelf above your stack of textbooks. Also, nestled under the rose was a note.

You reached for the paper, only to unfold it and discover that whoever wrote the note had perfect penmanship.

The flourish of the longhand was nothing, but perfect loops and dashes. The words were, as you quickly discovered, a poem.

Not just any poem, but a poem about roses by a poet from ancient times. The pre-Panem days.

Who would know that you enjoyed ancient literature?

“I see you received a white rose, Y/N.” Coriolanus Snow told you, seeming to appear out of thin air.

His locker was right next to yours, so you shouldn't have been startled by him. But for some reason, you were.

“Um, yea. Yea, I did.”

“Any idea who it's from?”

“No.”

“Well, then it looks like you have a secret admirer. Don't worry, I'll be on the lookout for you; tell you who they are if I learn anything.”

“You don't have to do that, Coriolanus.”

“Have you thought that maybe I want to, Y/N.” The platinum blonde countered, tilting his head in a way that made his curls rustle.

You forced a smile paired with a polite, but generic, “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”

Before he could say another word, you closed your locker and took off down the hall.

Coriolanus watched the swish sway of your hips as you walked away. His icy blue eyes glued to your ass.

Oh god, oh he wanted to take you from behind and smack your ass; make it jiggle.

Soon.

Very soon he'd make you his.

It's your destiny to be his because he always-

ALWAYS

-gets what he wants.

And what he wants most in this entire world is you.

Well, you on his rock hard cock, but that's besides the point.

The following day, you opened your locker to find a single white rose with another note.

It was a quote from an ancient Pre-Panem book. Romeo & Juliet by Shakespeare to be exact.

That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.

And then the day after that, you found a single white rose with a tiny chocolate ball wrapped in a red wrapper inside of your lock. Of course, once again, there was a note written in perfect flourish accompanying it.

Enjoy your chocolate on this sweet day, my darling rose.

You were about to put the note back into your locker whenever Coriolanus appeared at your side. He towered over you, so of course he saw the note in your hand along the presents your secret admirer left for you.

“I see you got chocolate today with your rose.” Coriolanus observed as you placed the note in your locker and pulled out your books for your first couple of classes.

Little did you know, Coriolanus stole what little money Tigris has squirreled away for the mortgage payment this month to buy you a single piece of candy. He was poor, so poor that he didn't have a pot to piss in, but he had to get you something to impress you.

And all girls loved chocolate, didn't they?

Well, he knew his Grandma’am loved chocolate. So, safe to say, he was hoping you'd like the chocolate. That the small treat would make you fall in love with your secret admirer.

With him.

Instantly.

“Yea.” You nodded, closing your locker. The platinum blonde continued just staring at you instead of making a move to unlock his locker. “The secret admirer struck again.” You stated the obvious as a way to clear the awkward air that was starting to loom around you and Coriolanus.

“I see that.” Coriolanus smirked. “Are you flattered by the gifts your admirer’s been leaving you?”

You mulled over that for a moment. Hmm…How did you feel about all the roses and little notes? “Well, it’s sweet. But I wasn't even aware that I'm likable so for somebody to keep leaving me roses and notes is a bit of a shock.”

Still staring at you, Coriolanus flashed a smile that was all pearly whites. “Of course you're likable, darling. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”

“Have you seen half of the people we go to school with?” You asked, trying not to burst out laughing as the names and faces of your stupid and annoying classmates fluttered around in your head.

“Yes, well unfortunately we're surrounded by idiots that we have to play nice with so we can step on them as we climb up the ladder to success.” He dramatically told you, baby blues rolling into the back of his head, as he finally opened up his locker.

*Oh my God? Did you just say that?” You laughed, finding his remark amusing. You never knew that he had such a dark sense of humor. “If only we started talking years ago, then we could've been sitting at the lunch table judging everyone.”

“Oh, so you enjoy my company then?” he asked, pulling a book out of his satchel and placing it into his locker.

“Maybe.” You shrugged.

“Just maybe?” Coriolanus pressed, grabbing what he needed for his first couple of classes and packing it into his satchel.

“Sejanus likes you, so you can't be that bad.”

Coriolanus leaned over you, his eyes flashing mischievously, and his voice a low velvety baritone, “Oh, but you're mistaken. I'm a very bad boy, I just don't get caught being bad.”

It was right at that moment the first warning bell rang for the first morning class. That bell gave you an out in a situation that had quickly escalated. “The bell rang; we better go, Coriolanus.”

He nodded, only to say, “Call me Coryo, Y/N.”

“Okay, well, see you later, Coryo.” You told him before quickly taking off towards your class.

Coryo watched your backside, fantasying about spanking your ass while roughly fucking you, before taking off to his own class.

Every day was the same thing. You would receive roses and notes filled with poems and quotes from ancient Pre-Panem literature. And everyday Coryo would make a remark about it.

So, when Saturday rolled around, you were relieved that your admirer wouldn't be able to leave you anything.

Or at least that's what you thought.

Turns out, you were wrong. So very, very, wrong.

You were at your kitchen table, which has seen better days since the wood was worn, scratched, and chipped, eating some toast made out of stale bread, whenever your mother came into the kitchen. A bundle of 3 roses tied together with a ribbon bow paired with a piece of parchment in one hand and her daily morning paper in the other.

Oh no.

Your secret admirer struck again.

“You got roses and a letter addressed to you, Y/N.” Your mother told you, placing the items on the table. “Is there something you want to tell me about?” She asked, taking a seat at the table.

“I have a secret admirer.” You honestly answered, reaching for the love note while your mother unfolded her newspaper.

“Oh, how nice. Maybe he's rich.” She smiled, watching you unfold your note.

Of course she'd say that. But you understand why though. You go to school with a bunch of snotty rich kids while you're living hand to mouth in an apartment Corso. If it wasn't for your older brother, Rein, sending home his peacekeeper’s pay, well, you'd probably be out on the streets. Your mother just wanted you to have a better chance at life then she did; wanted you to marry a wealthy man that could take care of you. Get you out of poverty.

You can't fault her for wanting better for you. For wanting you to avoid making some of her mistakes.

You didn't say a word, just shrugged as you read over your note. You couldn't help but smile at the words written in that perfect looping, swooping, flourish that you've grown to adore.

These white and red roses I give to you are a promise of my affections towards you. Red roses symbolize love while white roses symbolize purity, perfection, and an untarnished new love. I have nothing, but both in my heart for you, my darling rose.

Your mother leaned over your shoulder, reading your note. “Seems like you've managed to snag the heart of the Poet Laureate of Dogwood Lane.” Your mother huffed, only to grab her coffee cup.

“I think it's sweet, mother.” You defended your secret admirer, placing the note down and picking up your tiny bundle of roses.

As you smelled the faint, sweet scent of the roses, your mother sighed, “With words like that, he's a poor boy.”

“Mother, don't act like that. It doesn't matter to me if my admirer's rich or not, as long as he's nice to me.” You scolded your mother while leaving the table and taking your roses over to the kitchen sink, so that you could put them in a tall glass of water.

Your family didn't have any vases. They were broken the night your mother received the news about your father's death. She grabbed every vase in the house and threw them at the walls with all her might, screaming and crying with heartbreak.

“Y/N, it's as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it is a poor man. You remember that; it'll keep you from doing something stupid.”

But what if you wanted to do something stupid?

On Sunday you received another rose from your admirer and another note. It was a simple note, but it was sweet none the less. Of course, you put the rose into the water glass the other 3 were in.

And come Monday, you received another gift from your secret admirer. You asked Coryo if he had any clue who your secret admirer could be because you really wanted to meet them, tell them that you thought they were sweet. He told you that he knew, but would tell you the next day.

Valentine's Day.

Of course, he was going to be a troll and make you wait until Valentine's Day to find out what he knew about your secret admirer. Damn. He would.

So on Valentine's Day you walked out of your front door, expecting to make the walk to the Academy and ask Coryo what he learnt about your secret admirer, only to find him pacing the floor right in front of your apartment. He had something behind his back and he seemed to be, for a lack of a better word, nervous.

“Coryo, what’re you doing here?”

Stopping in his tracks and turning to face you, he smiled while pulling his hand out from behind his back. Extending a perfect white rose to you, he smiled, “Y/N, my darling rose, I've come to tell you that I'm your secret admirer. That I'd like to take you to the Valentine's Day dance at the Academy tonight.”

“You? You're my secret admirer?” You couldn't believe your eyes and ears. It was Coryo all along. How could you not see it? Before he could utter a reply you took the rose from him and smiled, “Coryo, I'm glad it's you.”

Of course you're glad he's your secret admirer. You enjoy his snarkiness and he's hot. He's tall, has broad shoulders paired with a small waist, and his platinum curls frame his angular face in a way that makes him look like a Greek god.

Before Coryo could utter a word, you threw yourself on him; hugging him. He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. Resting his chin on top of your head, he asked, “Are we going to the dance?”

“I'd like to, but I don't think I have anything to wear. Or at least anything that hasn't been worn one too many times already.” You admit, feeling a bit bad that you'll probably miss the dance because you don't have a slew of dresses to pick from.

Coriolanus understands where you're coming from. He too has the hard burden of keeping up a filet mignon steak appearance while on a cabbage and watery broth soup budget.

So, pulling away slightly so that he could use a hand to tilt your chin up; making your eyes lock, he told you, “I'll bring you home after school; my cousin Tigris can fix you up for the dance. I'm sure she'll have a suitable dress for you to borrow, since she's a remarkable seamstress that’s always making something.”

When Coriolanus brought you to his penthouse, you were shocked to find out that he lived in your building on the Corso.

He lives on the 12th floor in your building! Oh, how the universe has a funny way of fucking with you.

Coryo living in your building’s the reason why he became your low key stalker, watching you from afar for so many years. It's why he singles you out. Why he’s your secret admirer.

When you entered the Snow penthouse, you discovered that it was in poor shape. That he was poor, just like you were. That he was acting at school, acting like he had all the riches in the world when he didn't.

It should've bothered you, but it didn't. Coryo was just trying to survive being at the Academy with a bunch of rich snobs. What choice did he have, but to lie about having money. He has to blend in somehow.

Coriolanus was excited for you to meet Tigris, Grandma'am too, but unfortunately the penthouse was empty. His cousin left a note detailing that she took their Grandma'am out to run a few errands. She told.him roughly when they'd be back too.

Fortunately they'd be back in plenty of time to help you get ready for the Valentine's Day dance that Coryo wanted to take you too.

You thought that he wanted to take you to the dance because he likes you, but that was only partially true. Coriolanus wanted to take you to show you off. Stake his claim to you. Mark you as his own.

Once everyone in the Academy saw you on his arm, they'd all know that you belonged to him.

Coriolanus always did like showing off his most prized possessions. But, unfortunately, he doesn't have many of those these days. So, now that he has you right where he wants you, it's time to show you off.

But to do that he needs Tigris to shine and polish you. Make you look dazzling, like a diamond. But, since his cousin and their Grandma'am are out, having you be made over by his cousin’s magical fashion touch will have to wait.

Coriolanus decides that since he's got you all alone in his penthouse, he might as well act on his fantasies of fucking you.

And that's how you find yourself in Coryo’s room, splayed out on his twin sized bed in nothing, but your simple white panties as he sucked and nipped a spot below your jaw. His hands were on your boobs, massaging them roughly as he grinded his boxer clad bulge into your wet, aching core.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding your hips in a desperate attempt to alleviate the ache in your pussy. “Coryo, please…” You whined, feeling the platinum blonde sucking harshly at a spot right below your jaw.

“Please what, baby? Please fuck you?” Coryo taunted huskily in your ear. His warm breath tickling your earlobe; sending a new rush of heat down to your wet center. “Hmmm?...” He hummed against your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone.

You placed a hand in his light blonde curls, only to pull his head up. Making his lust blown eyes meet yours. Biting your swollen, over kissed lips, you admitted, “I'm a virgin, Coryo. I don't know if I'm ready to go all the way yet, but I need you to touch me.”

Of course you were a virgin. He knew that. Coriolanus just wasn't expecting you to be hesitant about wanting to fuck him.

Damnit!

He didn't want to be a virgin anymore. He wanted to have his first fuck with you.

Okay, honestly, he hated people and would only be fucking you since you're his. After all the hard work he did wooing you with the secret admirer gifts and notes, he'd be a fool to try and find somebody else.

Coriolanus gave you a lopsided smile, only to stroke your cheek and confess, “I'm still a virgin too, my darling rose.”

Coriolanus Snow’s a virgin? But he's so hot. How is he still a virgin? Like, with his looks you thought he would've had a few hookups under his belt.

“Why?” You asked, curious eyes looking up into his icy baby blues.

“I'm too busy studying to do anything.” Coriolanus smoothly lied.

Truth was, he could go out and find somebody to fuck if he wanted to, but he was too busy watching over you from the shadows to do that. So, in fact, it wasn't studying he was too busy doing, but obsessing over you. Following you around whenever you went out. Even lurking nearby your apartment, in an alcove where you'd never see him, for the chance of sneaking a glimpse at you whenever you open the door to take out the trash or something.

Yes, he studied his subjects for school, but not with the same obsessive diligence that he studied you.

Trailing his fingers down your neck, until his hand reached the hollow of your throat, he smirked, “Plus, I guess I was waiting for the right girl.”

“Yea?” You ask, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. You couldn't believe your ears, Coryo just said, in so many words, that his wait was over because you were the right girl for him. That made your heart soar.

Coriolanus’ blue eyes sparkled and his plush lips turned up in a soft smile. “Yea.” He nodded, hovering over you. “We can wait until we're both ready, darling.” He offered, stroking the hollow of your throat. “I promise.”

And despite being obsessed with you to the point that he was literally your stalker, knew everything about you, and wanted to own you, he meant it. He wasn't going to push you into giving him your virginity. But that was because he worked too hard (because giving you a roses, notes, and a piece of chocolate for an entire week straight was hard work) to get you to notice him, trust him, and love him back to ruin it by pushing you too hard.

Coriolanus is a patient man, he can wait a bit longer to fulfill his fantasy of stuffing his cock into your tight cunt. At least he gets to fulfill his other fantasies with you. But, he hopes by summer he'll be balls deep inside your tight cunt.

He had an obsessive love for you and he wanted nothing more than to claim you as his. In every way possible.

And that urge to claim you is what spurs him on; what has him biting at your collarbone, soothing the teeth marks with a few laps of his tongue. The platinum blonde smirked against your skin as he felt your fingers tighten around his hair as little mewls left your mouth. It sends pride coursing thru his body, knowing that being marked by him turned you on.

Coriolanus wraps his lips around one of your nipples only to roughly tweak the other between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to let out a small, breathy moan.“Coryo…” 

Your reaction to his ministrations caused him to grind his boxer covered bulge into your soaked panty covered pussy. He moaned around your nipple, the feeling of your wetness soaking his hard dick driving him crazy. He needed some friction to relieve his aching cock and by how you were frantically canting your hips up to meet his, you needed some relief too.

Coryo sped up his pace, only to roughly squeeze your tits while biting your nipple. You felt pleasure mixed with pain, causing you to loudly moan and claw at Coryo's back with your hand that wasn't tangled in his hair. 

Letting your nipple fall from his mouth with a loud pop, he smirked, “You sound so beautiful when you moan for me, little dove.” 

One of his hands trailed down your body, only to squeeze your hip. His thumb brushed against your hip bone as his hand, that was still on your boob, harshly palmed it. He stopped grinding into your core, causing you to whimper and buck your hips in a feeble attempt to get him to move again. 

But he didn't move. Instead, his icy eyes stared straight into your soul as he asked, “I want to take your panties off; finger fuck you real good. Can I do that, baby?”

Could he do that? Of course he could. Didn't you tell him you wanted him to touch you before? Was he being shy or was he giving you an out? You didn't know, but all you knew was that hearing that he wanted to finger fuck you sent a fresh pool of wetness between your legs. 

“Yes.” You nodded. Your voice was a desperate whine as you told him, “Please, Coryo. I need you so bad.”

Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your lips. “Shh, baby. I’ll give you what you need.”

He pulled your panties off, only to toss them over his shoulder. Your instant reaction was to close your legs, but Coryo placed his large hands on your knees, preventing your legs from closing. “Don't get shy on me now, Y/N.” He reprimanded you, lust blown icy eyes locked onto yours as his platinum curls framed his elongated face perfectly like a halo.

You couldn't tell him he was being serious or playful with his reprimand, so you just nodded.

His attention fell to your slick pussy. You were so wet for him. “That all for me, darling? Fuck, your so wet.” He groaned, gnawing on his bottom lip as he felt his already rock hard cock get painfully harder. God, just looking at your perfect, pretty pussy dripping and drooling juices just for him sent a possessive pride straight to Coriolanus' heart.

It gave him an ego boost knowing that he's the one to make you so wet. That only he can do that, make you needy and wanting for him.

Serves you right to be wet between your thighs because of him. God only knows how many nights he fisted his cock, worked up with need for you. It's only fair that he makes you into a needy wanton little whore for him.

“Yea, it's all for you.” You nod, letting your hands run over his chest. You can feel his ribs underneath his pale skin as you tell him, “It'll always be for you.”

Coriolanus gave you a needy open mouth kiss as he hovered above your body. The kiss was messy and took you by surprise, but it also turned you on. A feral look flashed in his eyes, which was more black then icy blue at the moment, before he grabbed your chin in his hand. Keeping you jaw open with his hand, he uttered the declaration of, “Mine, mine, mine.” Before spitting right into your mouth.

You felt the spit rolling down your throat, becoming one with you in an exotic way. Coriolanus’ smiled widely, showing too much of his pearly whites, at the site of you swallowing down his spit. “You're mine, my darling rose. All mine and I'll never let you go.”

Yes, you were all his. His personal little slut. His darling rose. His, his, his.

Coriolanus’ face hovered dangerly close to yours as he snaked a hand between your bodies. But, before he could touch you, you stopped him by grabbing hold of his wrist. 

He gave you a startled look. Did you change your mind? Did you want to stop?

Fuck, he hopes not.

No, you didn't want to stop. Infact, you wanted him to take off his white boxers so that you could see his cock. You wanted him bare before you since you were spread out for him. 

And you told him so.

And boy, oh boy, he was so happy to hear you say that.

Quickly, he stood up and pulled off his boxers. Seeing his large cock, that was at least 8 inches with veins running alongside it, you felt desire heat up inside of you. 

“Can I touch it?” You asked as he knelt back on the bed.

“Yes, you can touch it. But after I'm done with finger fucking you. Okay baby?” He cooed, settling back between your legs and cupping your soaking wet cunt with his large hand. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, little dove.” Coriolanus told you before running a long finger up your slit.

A shiver felt down your spine at the feeling of him teasing you with his finger. You let out a ragged breath as his finger slipped into your tight pussy, only to languidly thrust a few times. You felt yourself grow wetter as he pulled his finger out of your wet hole, only to bring it up to his mouth and suck on it.

Coriolanus’ eyes rolled into the back of his head as he moaned, “Mmmm…you taste so sweet.” 

“Coryo, please.” You begged. His teasing was driving you crazy.

Deciding that two could play that game, you reached down with your hand and grabbed his hard cock.

“Fuck.” Coriolanus gasped as you experimentally ran your thumb over the leaky, red tip of his cock. His breathing was harsh as he said, “I got an idea. Think you’d want to try it?”

“What is it?” You asked, curious to hear this idea of his. You felt like you'd explode any minute now, so if he had a way to ease your aching cunt, then you wanted to know. Especially since he keeps getting distracted when it comes to fingering you.

Maybe he was nervous because he'd never finger a girl before, or maybe he was just a tease that liked to edge you. Who knows. But what you did know was that if you weren't touched soon then you were gonna go mad.

“Well, we’re worked up and I don't know how much more alone time we have, so I thought we could just grind together like we're fucking. But of course I won't put my cock inside, just rub it thru your wet folds.”

“Yes, yes, Coryo. Please, just make me cum.” You rattled out, feeling desperate. Hell, you’re at the point where you're tempted to just start playing with your own pussy to cum. That's how bad you needed to cum right now.

“Goddamn, baby, you're such a whiny little slut for me.” Coriolanus cooed, holding his cock and using the tip, oozing with precum, to rub against your clit in a teasing manner.

Well, it seems like Coriolanus Snow's the type that likes to play with his food before he eats it. 

His metaphorical food. The boy's practically starving to death with nothing, but stewed cabbage and watery broth to eat. So, he doesn't play around with real food.

Hunger is a weapon; he knows that all too well. 

But your lustful hunger for him is something that he uses as a weapon of sorts. He uses it, teasing and edging you, to make you beg to be his. Beg to be filled by him, just for a blissful release to satisfy the throbbing ache in your wet cunt.

Your wet cunt that’s hungry for his cock.

And by God, he's going to give you his cock.

Coriolanus stopped teasing your clit with his tip, only to roll his hips into yours, sliding his hard cock along your slippery wet folds. His fingers dug into your hips and yours dig into his biceps while you both let out loud, throat moans. The feeling of his cock sliding thru your folds was heavenly for the both of you.

With every movement Coriolanus made, you matched. Being the first time either of you have every done anything remotely sexual, your movements at times were sloppy and rushed. Frantic even. But it felt good. 

The only sound in the room was that of your moans and heavy breaths mixed with the obscene sound of Coryo's cock slipping between your squelching wet pussy. Oh, the pressure of his cock rubbing against your cunt was delicious.

It felt better than any of the times you've fingered yourself, rubbed your clit, or humped your pillow. 

Yes, dry humping Coriolanus was better than anything you've ever felt before. 

“Feels so good, Coryo.” You mewled, clawing at him, feeling the coil in your stomach start to tighten.

“Yea.” Coryo huffed, his brow furrowed with sweat as he felt his cum heavy balls begin to tighten.  Leaning forward, caging you in with his arms on either side of you, Coryo's breath ghosted your kiss bruised lips. “You feel close to cumming, baby? Huh, little slut, wanna cum?” 

Nodding eagerly, you wrapped your arms around his back, scratching it in an attempt to bring him closer to you, as you let out a sharp moan. “So close. I'm so close, Coryo.”

“Me too, baby. Me too.” Coryo groaned, bucking his hips even sloppier and faster in a desperate attempt to make you both cum.

His fists are white knuckling his bedsheets while your nails rake up and down his back, attempting to anchor yourself as your release neared. 

Groans and moans mixed with the wet, sweaty sound of skin slapping together and the loud squeaking of the old bed filled the air as you felt the rubber band inside of you snap.

You cum hard, harder then you've ever cummed in your entire time as a teenager. “Oh, Coryo. Coryo.” Tumbling from your lips in a sweet, moaning chant as your secret admirer continued to slide his cock between your folds.

The feeling of your cum, wet and flooding his dick, drove Coryo wild. It was better than anything he could ever dream of. Imaging how you feel when you cum during the nights he tightly fisted his cock doesn't even compare to the real feeling of your juices coating him, dripping messily down his dick and thighs as you squirt and soak the mattress beneath you.

Coryo's hips made one, two, three more tilts upswards towards yours before he’s burying his head in your shoulder and groaning out, “Fuck, darling. Fuck…”, as he cums, painting your pussy with ropes of his white hot cum.

Chest heaving as he pants to catch his breath, Coriolanus backs away from you, only to admire the was his cum decorates your glistening puffy pussy like fine pearls. Oh, if only he had a camera to take pictures of you. The site was so beautiful, so erotic. 

“You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He complimented, his voice a breathy murmur as he settled himself next to you.

Turning you head to look at him, you smile. “Yea?”

“Of course, baby.” Coriolanus replied, a smile coating his lips as he extended his arm out in a gesture for you to tuck into his side. “You're the most beautiful girl in the world.” He declared as you nestled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his torso. “You're my girl, yea?” Coriolanus asked, his icy eyes looking a bit vulnerable, as he held you close.

Vulnerable. Now that's something you never thought you'd say about Coriolanus Snow. He always seemed so confident, but right now while asking if you're his he seemed to emit some form of vulnerability. Subtle, but still in his baby blues.

“Yea, I'm your girl.” You confirm with a love struck smile.

Coriolanus relaxed when your words washed over him. He has nothing to worry about. You were his now. All the hard work he did being your secret admirer paid off.

Turning his head to look at the alarm clock in his bedside, he sighed, “We need to get dressed. Tigris and Grandma'am will probably be home soon.”

Grandma'am and Tigris welcome you with sparkling smiles and happy hugs when Coryo introduced you as his girlfriend. Tigris was excited that Coryo had found somebody while Grandma'am was elated that the daughter of the late Colonel Halvir (who served with and died with her son, General Crassus Snow, during the war in District 12) was her grandson's girl.

You're happy that the Snows accept your brand spanking new relationship with Coryo because you knew that your mother wouldn't. And you know that your older brother's too busy with his new officer's commission in 12 to care either.

Just like Coryo said she would, Tigris dolled you up in a dress that she made. She even did your hair and makeup for the Valentine's Day dance at the Academy. She made you look like a princess.

And everyone knows that a princess needs her prince.

And Coryo's your prince, giving you a white rose to pin on your dress. It matches the one that he had pinned on his label.

Coriolanus Snow proudly walked into the Academy's ballroom, showing you off on his arm.

Everyone will know that you belong to him. And when people ask how you got together you'll tell them about Coriolanus being your secret admirer during the week of love.

It sounds like a plot of a Capitol TV rom-com. But, unknown to you, your love story with Coryo would play out more like a true crime thriller.

Like an episode of Dateline.

Except that he'll never harm you. No, he's just the sociopath, narcissist, manipulative snake that destroys everyone's lives to make you the queen to his king.

His First Lady Of Panem.

But that didn't matter at the moment. All that matters is that right now you're happy with your secret admirer.

With your Coryo.

And he's happy to finally be able to be with you, because stalking you all the time was fucking exhausting.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88, @v-love

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Giving Them Chocolates on Valentine's Day

And other Valentine's Day miscellanea. I'm going with MC giving store-bought chocolates. I know in some places, it's more common to give homemade chocolates, but I for one do not have any idea how that is done and it's not something that's common where I live, so I'm going to go with what I know, which is very little. Enjoy! (Mostly below the cut.)

The length of these varies. Some are quite short. I just wanted to put out some sort of Valentine's Day themed Thing, even if I'm almost two days late.

Lucifer

"How thoughtful. I don't suppose there's anything deeper I'm meant to read into here?"

He's so smug. Unreasonably so. More than you would expect. Yeah, guys, he got chocolates from MC. But his pride doesn't allow him to flaunt the fact. He has to just hope and pray people actively ask him whether he's gotten anything or where those not-so-discreetly placed chocolates sitting on his desk happened to come from.

Lucifer is very traditional in his treatment of you. When it comes to events like this, he's almost painfully predictable. He'll certainly have roses for you, and depending on your relationship, he might reserve dinner for two at a high end restaurant. And if your relationship is at a certain level, you can expect a trail of rose petals leading to the bed. It's kind of cringeworthy but he means well.

Mammon

"O-oh... Ahem... Is it Valentine's Day? Ha! I thought I was forgettin' somethin'. Heh, uh... thanks, human."

Obviously he didn't forget; he's been stressing over this day for the past week. He needs to get you something, but it can't be anything that's too cheesy or anything that makes him look cheap, so he's probably broken the bank to get you some sort of jewelry that he'll spend the next century paying off, but it's worth it.

When he gets chocolates from you, he plays it off like it's no big deal, but actually, he's so excited to reciprocate that before he has time to think it over, he's acting like he just so happened to have this expensive piece of jewelry on his person so you might as well take it for him. He spends the rest of the day kicking himself because now how in the world are you supposed to know that this was actually a very tactful and expensive gift from the greatest demon in the Devildom?

That, and he'll probably spend the entire day glaring at his brothers and the dateables from the corner as they shower you with gifts and attention.

Leviathan

"Wh...? For me? This isn't a prank, right? Because I'm not gonna forgive you if this box is full of tide pods!"

It's not full of tide pods, so all is well. He's so embarrassed to have doubted you that he tries to just shove his gift into your hands and push you out of his room, but it won't take too much persistence to get him to back down.

His gift is some sort of merch relating to an anime, manga, or game the two of you have particularly enjoyed together. Preferably something cute and evocative of the holiday. He doesn't know. He's never done this before. Why would he? Nobody would ever think to give him anything on Valentine's Day, so why would he bother with gifts? You do remember that nobody likes him, right? He doesn't like them either, so it's fine, but---

Let's just thank him for our gift before he falls too far down the self-hate spiral.

Satan

"I had hoped I might receive something from you today."

Satan is glad to get something from you, no matter what it is, but to be honest, chocolates probably aren't the best choice for him. He'd rather have something a little more heart-felt, that seems like you picked it out with him in mind. Literally anything cat-themed, or a book of some sort (bonus if it's a romance novel).

He's probably gone and done something stupidly romantic like buy you flowers and a book of poetry with certain parts highlighted.

But don't be fooled. Satan's favorite part of Valentine's Day is talking about its gruesome history, from the martyrdom of St. Valentine to a whole host of brutal murders that have taken place on the day. Catch him trying to figure out how to shoehorn the Chicago St. Valentine's Day Massacre into a casual conversation.

Asmodeus

"Oh, for meeee? You're such a sweetheart!"

He adds it to his enormous pile of chocolates, cards, flowers, and love letters. But of course, it's special, because it's from you.

He loves it, but... he's another one who would probably prefer something a little more personalized. Being who he is, he's a very popular demon on Valentine's Day, so seeing you put in a little effort to get him something with a bit of Asmo-flair would thrill him.

Beelzebub

"Chocolates...? This is the best thing I could have asked for. They'll taste even better knowing they're from you."

Well, obviously he loves them. He probably tried to get you chocolates too, but it doesn't matter how much he loves you. Beel's gonna Beel. The box is empty. He's shocked. He was sure he left some.

Belphegor

"...Wait, it's...? ...Thanks, MC. They look really good."

Belphie stares down at the chocolates in his hands, looking tired and mellow, while he internally panics because holy shit, it's already February 14? When did that happen? He doesn't have anything for you. He hates Valentine's Day. Why does it have to exist and lay bare all his inadequacies, like being a procrastinator and forgetting to prepare for things in advance even to the slightest degree?

Diavolo

"Ah, for Valentine's Day! It's a delight to receive this in person!"

Diavolo probably gets plenty of Valentine's Day presents from admirers (and suck-ups) around the Devildom, but most of them come in the mail or are otherwise delivered in an impersonal manner. So when you approach him directly to give him some chocolates, he's reminded why you're everyone's favorite human (himself included).

Also, you'd better clear out your schedule, because Diavolo booked out all of Ristorante Six for a dinner date tonight. Yes, the entire thing. Yes, on Valentine's Day. No, he's not worried about the dozens of disappointed couples who had probably been hoping to eat there.

Barbatos

"Any gift from you is satisfactory in my eyes."

It's kind of embarrassing to give regular old chocolates to someone like Barbatos who's a complete whiz in the kitchen, especially when it comes to sweets. But you figure he'd appreciate the gesture, and you'd be right. Of course, he will turn around and present you with a variety of immaculate, handcrafted artisan chocolates, tailor made to your personal taste. But sure, those store-bought candies you got in the heart-shaped box are completely fine, so stop stressing out about it.

Solomon

"Aw, thank you, my adorable apprentice! I have some homemade chocolates for you! What? Aren't you going to try some?"

Solomon tries to kill you on Valentine's Day...with love, obviously! But seriously, aren't you going to try the chocolates? He put his whole heart into them. And the hearts of several unique Devildom species. They're not toxic, stop worrying.

Simeon

"The fact that you thought of me means more than you realize."

And he means it. The fact that you thought about him, and when thinking about him, made the active decision to buy him something for Valentine's Day makes him stupidly happy.

Simeon strikes me as a flowers kind of guy. He got you flowers. Maybe some homemade treats too, but definitely flowers.

Luke

"Thanks! I got you something too. Happy Valentine's Day!"

Luke made cookies. They're delicious. Befriending this kid is the smartest thing you ever did.

[biteofcherry]

Fancy cozy

soft mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

Nesting Masterlist

summary: You wanted a cozy celebration of New Year's and your husband happily provides.

warnings: none

This is pure fluff and coziness. Written for the Nesting universe as a result of this poll.

Happy New Year to you all!

Happy with the stack of food he managed to fit on the small coffee table, Steve surveyed the cozy nest he prepared for the two of you on the couch in the living room. Fluffy blankets at hand, pillows, all the remote controls. The lights were twinkling on the big Christmas tree, as well on the curtains along the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He was a confident man in general and this time Steve was quite certain he fit your request for a cushy New Year’s Eve perfectly. 

When he turned at the sound of your soft footsteps nearing, however, his confidence wobbled for a second. 

You paused mid step as you met Steve’s eyes and recognized a flash of surprise in his blue irises. It took you a moment to realize what shocked him. But as Steve’s gaze didn’t slide over you, instead roaming around your head, it dawned on you. 

You grinned, quite happy that you managed to surprise him in any way. Steve was always so sure of himself when it came to you and perceiving your needs (and truthfully, ninety nine percent of the time he was right). He predicted them, discovered them, and always remembered the smallest details. 

“What?” You shrugged when he kept staring at you and sauntered towards him with a sassy bounce to your step - so much reminiscing of the one you had when you first met Steve that one crazy weekend over a year ago.

“I said I want a cozy New Year’s Eve celebration,” you pointed at the soft, comfy pajamas you wore, “but it’s still a special occasion celebration, after all. A bit of fancy is a must.”

Hence your full-on, quite heavy makeup and jewelry shining around your neck and in your ears. 

When Steve asked what you’d like to do for New Year’s, you revealed you dreamt of just staying at home and being together. Without any fuss. Without any special preparations. There were options of some fancy parties, as well more close-knit ones (Natasha and Yelena were throwing a party); or journeys across the globe, if you wished.

As much as it tempted you to see the snowy glory of the lavish five star hotel in Karlovy Vary where Steve proposed to take you, you didn’t feel like going anywhere. Not this year, at least. 

You were mostly tired and overstimulated. Freshly after loud, full-family holiday celebrations, still learning how to be a mom of a newborn, how to juggle all these activities and responsibilities. You really just wanted some peace and quiet. 

But it didn’t mean you weren’t going to be a tiny bit fancy on New Year’s Eve. 

Even if it was a funny clashing result of styles.

Steve expected to see you in pjs, but not the smokey eye with glitter and false lashes glued on. Neither the diamonds sparkling in your ears and around your neck - both a gift from him. 

“You’re right.” Steve was always quick-witted, swiftly catching up with you. “Perhaps I should add some bling to my modest outfit, too? To make this cozy more fancy.” 

He brushed a hand across his torso, clad only in a simple white (so deliciously tight) undershirt. The few tattoos he had were almost on full display. The gray sweatpants he had on were hanging dangerously low on his hips and you thought this look was much sexier than if he was walking around in a tailored suit. 

“Nah,” you waved your hand, passing Steve and jumping onto the couch. “It’s impolite to look better than your wife.” 

“I’ll remember that,” Steve chuckled. 

He braced his hands on his hips as he watched you get comfortable. 

“Do you want anything that’s not at hand?” He asked, pointing at the coffee table. When you shook your head and grabbed a bowl of chips, he said: “I’ll check on Tommy and be right back.”

You checked on your sleeping baby boy before coming down, but there was no force nor reason that could stop Steve from doing his own check up on his son. It warmed your heart every time you witnessed Steve’s genuine love for your baby.  

Even if at times you were still silently questioning this whole marriage into which you were sort of forced, you also felt Steve’s love for you. 

Which is why it was so easy to snuggle to his side when Steve returned and took his spot on the couch right next to you. He draped one arm around you and picked the remote with his other hand. You let him flip through the channels, enjoying the simplicity of being together and watching whatever Steve was in the mood for. 

You watched one comedy, then two episodes of some new crime show. Some music channel played 80’s and 90’s hits for about forty minutes that you and Steve spent making out - slowly and softly, before settling back to watch tv. 

You dozed off for about an hour and though Steve claimed he was awake the whole time, you’re sure you heard a few snores of his through your light sleep. 

When the countdown to midnight started, you both got up. You stretched as Steve opened a bottle of alcohol-free champagne. He filled two flutes, but set them down on the table as he scurried away for a moment. He returned with shoes and coats for both of you, grinning at your questioning frown. 

“I have a little surprise,” it’s the only explanation you got as you pushed your feet into your fur-laced boots. 

Steve slid the patio door open and the two of you walked outside, champagne flutes in hands (and the baby monitor in Steve’s coat pocket). A few moments later the quiet, dark sky above the forest surrounding your estate burst with colors of sparkling fireworks. 

“Happy New Year, little wife,” Steve’s breath tickles your ear when he leans to murmur, before his mouth descends on yours. 

You didn’t feel like drinking champagne after that kiss, more interested in filling your mouth with more of Steve’s taste. But you sipped it as Steve wrapped his arms around you - your back to his chest - and you watched the fireworks show displayed in the night sky. 

[threewaywithdelusion]

You Me Her

Since AO3 is down and I'm sure people are losing their minds looking for fics (I am people), I'm posting some of my fics over here. If you look in the tag "Mia writes fanfic" you can see all the fic I've posted on tumblr. If you prefer to read on AO3 now that it’s back up, you can find this fic here

Robin was the first person to notice something was wrong with Steve Harrington. 

By the end of the day, everyone had noticed. People were whispering up and down the halls, wondering what had happened to Steve since yesterday to make him act so drastically different. He hadn’t flirted with a single girl all day. He’d told Tommy Hagan to “knock it off” when Tommy had started tormenting a freshman. He’d treated his friends weirdly – avoiding Jason Carver, a sophomore on the basketball team who he’d been training, losing patience with Carol Perkins’s snappish remarks, freezing up when some cheerleaders talked to him. 

Robin heard all of this second-hand. King Steve was so notorious that even the band kids were gossiping about his personality transplant. Multiple people came up to Robin to share some tidbit of gossip that they insisted proved that Steve had been body-snatched. 

But Robin didn’t need rumors to know that Steve Harrington was different. She’d known since first period, when he’d walked into Ms. Click’s class on time and without a bagel. Steve had barely glanced at Tammy, even as she’d looked at him from under her lashes, beautiful and enticing. Instead, Steve had, for the first time in his entire life, looked at Robin. 

And he’d smiled at her. Not a polite acknowledgement of her existence – which still would have been more than Robin had ever gotten from him – but a huge, friendly smile. The kind that would have had most girls falling at his feet. 

Robin glanced behind her to see if Steve was smiling at someone else, but unless Steve was smiling like that at Fred Benson – even more unlikely – he was definitely directing that expression at her. 

Robin spun back to Steve, unsure what her face was communicating. Confusion, maybe, or wide-eyed shock. 

Steve didn’t look offended or surprised by her reaction, just gave her a dorky little wave and sat down. 

Robin stared at the back of his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Tammy turned to Robin, scanning her up and down. Robin knew she was just trying to figure out what about Robin had caught King Steve’s interest, but her scrutiny made Robin feel all hot anyway. It was Tammy, looking at Robin intently. With purpose. Taking in Robin’s stupid perm and her smudgy makeup and her layers of jewelry. 

Robin blushed. 

Tammy turned back around. 

Ms. Click began talking, but Robin didn’t hear a single word for the rest of class, lost in thought. She alternated between loud mental screaming about the fact that Tammy had looked at her and staring at Steve Harrington’s famous hair and wondering what the hell had inspired him to notice her existence. 

Robin was packing in a daze at the end of class when Steve gave her another smile before leaving. Robin accidentally met Tammy’s eyes, which were just as confused as Robin felt. 

Tammy bit her lip, which was pink and soft-looking. “Robin? Did you talk to Steve over the weekend?”

Oh my god. Tammy was talking to her. It wasn’t like Tammy never talked to her, but every single time it made Robin lose her mind and babble like a freak. 

Robin just shook her head instead of risking opening her mouth. 

“Oh,” Tammy said, looking disappointed. “But you like him?”

“No,” Robin said honestly. “I don’t even know him.”

“But you like him,” Tammy said, and this time it wasn’t a question. “I saw you blushing after he smiled at you.”

“I guess so,” Robin said. What else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Tammy that she didn’t give a damn if Steve Harrington looked at her and that the blush had been all for Tammy. That would send Tammy running the other way.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tammy said. “A lot of girls like Steve.”

She didn’t mention that she was one of those girls, but she didn’t need to. Robin knew. 

Maybe it would be okay to pretend to like Steve. It would give her and Tammy something in common and it would help her hide in plain sight. Steve was the perfect fake crush for a lesbian, pretty and athletic enough to be an acceptable crush, but unattainable enough that she would never have to act on it. Robin had never faked a crush on him before because of the principle of the thing, but now that she’d accidentally already done it, she might as well keep up the pretense. 

“Today must have been a fluke,” Robin told Tammy, trying to sound both reassuring and lovelorn. She didn’t want Tammy to see her as a threat. She wanted her to see her as a friend. “I don’t think Steve even knows my name.”

***

But Steve kept smiling at her for the rest of the week and on Thursday, Tammy asked Robin if she wanted to hang out after school. 

“Really?” Robin asked. Then, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

So Robin went to Tammy’s house with the rest of Tammy’s friends. Apparently they did this every Thursday — Friday and Saturday were date nights, which made Thursday the perfect girls’ night. 

They went up to Tammy’s room, which was like peeking into her mind. The other girls paid no attention to the room, probably having seen it a million times. They settled on the floor, spreading bowls of chips and chocolates around and pulling out magazines and nail polish. But Robin couldn’t help but try to take in every detail of the room. The walls were pink and the curtains and bedspread a gauzy white, giving everything a bit of a princess feel. But there were posters on the wall, and not the kind Robin had expected. There weren’t handsome movie stars — these were girls with guitars. 

“Who’s that?” Robin asked, pointing at a poster of a girl with long straight hair, standing over a microphone and holding a guitar. 

Tammy twisted to see who Robin was pointing to. “That’s Emmylou Harris. She’s incredible. She was one of the first women to really make it big in country music.”

“So you want to be like her?” Robin asked. 

Tammy blushed a little, playing with the end of her long blonde curls. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m as good as Emmylou Harris. But that’s the dream.”

“You’re really good,” Robin said sincerely. “I heard you singing Kiss On My List before class the other day and it was-“ captivating. life-changing. beautiful. “Really good,” Robin finished lamely. 

“Thank you,” Tammy said, looking touched. 

One of Tammy’s friends — Olivia? — rolled her eyes. “Tam, we didn’t invite Robin here to talk about your singing. We want to hear about Steve Harrington!”

The two other girls — Karen and Melissa — giggled and nodded their agreement. 

“What did you do to get his attention?” Olivia asked Robin. 

Robin tried not to obviously deflate. She wanted to talk to Tammy about her passions, see the way Tammy lit up when she smiled. She didn’t want to gossip about stupid boys, especially not Steve Harrington. 

But that was why they’d invited her over. Her fake crush on Steve was her in with these girls, with Tammy, and she had to make them believe her if she wanted to be invited to spend more time with him. 

“I don’t know,” Robin said honestly. “I’ve sat behind him all year and I didn’t think he knew I existed. And then all of a sudden on Monday — bam! — he’s acting like he knows me.”

Melissa hummed, passing around bottles of nail polish. “Maybe it’s your hair? Did you perm it recently? Cause Heather Holloway says Steve has a thing for girls with curly hair.”

Tammy frowned at her own hair and shook her head. “Robin’s hair has been like that all year.”

Tammy had watched Robin closely enough to notice what she did with her hair? Robin bit down on a smile, grabbing blue nail polish from Melissa. 

“Did you go to the party last weekend?” Karen asked. 

Robin shook her head. She’s actually spend last weekend reading a book, listening to her language tapes, and playing board games with her parents. Nothing that could be remotely considered cool. 

“Did you look particularly pretty on Monday?” Olivia asked. 

Robin shrugged. “I think I just looked how I always do.”

Tammy put on a Kris Kristofferson record then sat down beside Robin again. “I guess we’ll just have to watch what he does in class. Collect more information.”

“I guess so,” Robin said, hoping Steve forgot her existence soon for her own sake. She didn’t know what she would do if he actually asked her out. 

But maybe if he kept giving her attention she could keep this new friendship with Tammy, at least for a little while. 

Robin sighed, loud and long. 

“Don’t worry,” Tammy said, “We’ll figure it out.”

“And you don’t… mind?” Robin asked. “I know you like him too. I don’t want to break girl code or something.”

Robin had never worried about breaking girl code before, for obvious reasons, but she’d seen girls fall out over liking the same guy. 

Olivia snorted. “Please. Girl code doesn’t count when it comes to Steve Harrington. He’s slept with half the school.”

“Yeah, everyone knows he’s just a good time,” Karen added. “He doesn’t actually date girls for real.”

“I went out with him for two weeks in middle school,” Melissa said. “We made it to second base and then he dumped me for Erica Tanner.”

“You’re in good company here,” Olivia promised. 

Tammy still hadn’t spoken. Tammy was  focused on painting her nails bright pink, a color Robin would never choose for herself but that perfectly matched with Tammy’s pink cheeks and pink lips, which she was biting. 

Because Tammy cared, Robin realized. Steve might be the school slut, and he might never date a girl seriously, but Tammy liked him for real. 

Melissa, Olivia, and Karen were now arguing over whether Melissa’s two-week fling with Steve Harrington counted as a relationship. They seemed sufficiently distracted, so Robin dropped her voice low and leaned into Tammy’s space. 

“Do you mind?” she asked Tammy. “Because I can back off.”

“No,” Tammy said, smile pretty and entirely a lie. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Robin didn’t know what to do with that. Was Tammy trying to save face by not admitting she had a real crush on Steve Harrington? Was this her way of testing if Robin was worthy friend-material? How was Steve fucking Harrington Robin’s key to getting to know Tammy and also the one who was mostly likely to ruin this new friendship?

“Okay,” Robin said, staring at her nails so she wouldn’t have to figure out what facial expression was appropriate. She cleared her throat. “So you were telling me about Emmylou Harris?”

***

Steve Harrington came up to Robin at her locker on Friday, when she was getting the books she needed to take home for the weekend. 

“Hey,” he said, like it wasn’t supremely weird that he was approaching Robin Buckley, band geek and wallflower and no one who ever should have caught his eye. 

“Hi?” Robin answered. 

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go to the diner with me? We could get milkshakes.”

Robin stared at him. Was this a joke? A prank? Had one of his friends dared him to ask out the weird band kid?

“What?” Robin asked. 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He looked nervous, which was crazy. He was Steve Harrington and she was just Robin Buckley. 

“I can drive us,” Steve said. “And I’ll pay.”

“I’m not going on a date with you,” Robin said. It was a gut reaction, but a second later Robin couldn’t help but wonder if she should have said yes. What was she going to tell Tammy about why she’d turned down her supposed crush?

But why was Steve Harrington even asking her out in the first place?

Steve didn’t look offended at her rejection, but he did hurry to say, “I know. I didn’t mean as a date.”

Robin looked down the hall. A group of cheerleaders at one end was watching them, giggling and tittering. Had the cheerleaders put him up to this? Girls could be vicious, but trying to embarrass a girl by having a boy ask her out seemed like a more guy type of prank somehow. 

“You want to hang out with me just as friends,” Robin said skeptically. 

“Yeah,” Steve said. 

Robin rolled her eyes. “Right. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I mean it,” Steve said. “I want to be friends.”

He was lying. Robin didn’t know why, but he was lying. Maybe he thought that if she hung out with him as “friends” she would eventually change her mind and agree to date him. 

“Why?” Robin demanded. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Steve opened his mouth, then paused. He thought for a few seconds before he said, “You seem cool.”

Robin snorted. “I’m the furthest thing from cool.”

“No, I know,” Steve said. “I mean you seem… interesting. Nice. Fun.”

“You don’t even know me,” Robin said. “We’ve never spoken, and now all of a sudden you’re interested in me? I don’t buy it.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. He jumped as a hand landed on his arm and then Carol Perkins was there, staring Robin down with disdain in her eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Carol asked. 

“I was asking Robin to milkshakes,” Steve said. 

Carol gave Robin an up-and-down and it didn’t feel good like when Tammy had done it. Carol wasn’t admiring her. She was looking at Robin like gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. 

“Are you that bored of going out with pretty girls?” Carol asked, voice all fake-interested like it was a real question. 

Steve scowled, shaking Carol’s hand off his arm. “Robin’s pretty.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “She’s not terrible, I guess, under that bad perm, but she dresses like a dyke. If you want to rebel and date a freak or a charity case, you can do better.”

Robin flinched violently when Carol said the word dyke. She fought to keep her expression straight even as her heart raced and her lungs constricted. 

Did Carol Perkins know? Or had she blindly thrown out an insult, hoping it would hurt?

“Don’t call her that,” Steve snapped, his face dark and furious. He looked frightening enough that Robin skittered back half a step. 

Carol didn’t look scared of Steve, but her mouth did drop open in shock. 

That was fair. Robin was shocked too. 

Was Steve defending her?

Maybe this was what it meant to be a girl Steve Harrington liked. Maybe he didn’t like Carol calling Robin a dyke because that was an offense to his own masculinity. That was the only thing that made sense. Robin had heard Steve throw around gay slurs just last week, so it couldn’t be the word itself that he had a problem with.

“Seriously, Steve?” Carol asked, haughty and judgmental. “You can’t actually like her.”

“Robin is great,” Steve insisted. 

Carol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll remind you of this when you come to your senses.”

With that, Carol spun on her heels – red hair smacking Steve in the face – and walked away.

Steve’s posture loosened, like he had also perceived Carol as a threat. 

“I’m sorry,” he told Robin, looking sincere and apologetic. 

Robin hated him. 

“Stay the fuck away from me” Robin told Steve. 

She slammed her locker and walked away, clutching her books to her chest to hide her shaking hands. She kept her head up as she walked by the cheerleaders, who laughed loudly as she passed. 

***

Steve kept smiling at her whenever he walked into Click’s class, but he didn’t try to ask her out again. 

He looked a bit like a kicked puppy every time she glared back at him, but Robin didn’t care. 

“What are you doing?” Tammy asked one day after class. “He’s going to give up on you if you keep glaring at him like that.”

“He asked me out as a joke,” Robin told Tammy. 

Tammy frowned. “Are you sure it was a joke? I don’t think he would do that.”

“I’m sure,” Robin said darkly, thinking of Carol hovering and the cheerleaders watching. Did Steve believe what Carol had said? Was that the joke: to put Robin in a position where she had to either go on a date with a man she didn’t like or else turn him down and confirm she was a lesbian? What kind of girl said no to a date with Steve Harrington?

Tammy bit her lip. She had on bright pink lipstick today. It would have looked tacky on anyone else, but it made Tammy look like a pop star. Robin wondered if the lipstick was flavored. She wished she could kiss Tammy and find out.

“You don’t mind if I flirt with him, right?” Tammy asked, echoing Robin’s words at her house last week. So far, Robin hadn’t been invited to girls’ night again. 

Yes, Robin thought. Yes, I mind. I mind so much, but not for the reason that you think. 

“Not at all,” Robin said. “It’s like you said, girl code doesn’t apply to Steve Harrington. Go for it.”

So Tammy kept trying to get Steve’s attention. He was nice to her. He never outright ignored her when she talked to him, but he never talked to her for longer than politeness required. He would always turn away, missing the way Tammy’s face fell. 

And he kept fucking smiling at Robin. Picking up her books when she dropped them. Apologizing to her when he got bagel crumbs on the floor, even though she’d never mentioned how much it annoyed her. Turning to catch her eye when someone said something funny, like he thought she was someone he could share inside jokes with. 

Slowly, Tammy stopped smiling at Robin. She started flicking annoyed glances in Robin’s direction whenever Steve gave Robin attention. Started snapping at Robin whenever Robin tried to sympathize with her about how much of a douchebag Steve Harrington was. Started avoiding Robin unless Robin directly started conversation with her. 

Steve Harrington was ruining everything.

***

“What are you doing?” Robin demanded. She’d chased Steve after Ms. Click’s class, following him to the little alley out by the gym. She was going to be late for math, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk to him before he ruined everything. 

Steve frowned as he lit up a cigarette. “What do you mean?”

“In Click’s class,” Robin said. “Tammy is practically throwing herself at you but you never even look her way. And I don’t talk to you at all, but you keep trying to talk to me.”

A flash of something crossed Steve’s face, but Robin didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions and it was gone in a heartbeat anyway. 

“You don’t want me to talk to you?” Steve asked.

“Yes!” Robin said. “No. I don’t know. Why won’t you flirt with Tammy?”

Steve’s face scrunched up. It was a face Robin had seen before when they were taking tests in class – it meant Steve had no idea what was going on. “You’re upset because I’m not flirting with Tammy Thompson?”

“I don’t get it!” Robin said. “She’s really nice and she’s a good singer and she’s really pretty. Objectively. I mean, she seems like the Steve Harrington type.”

“Right,” Steve said, his lips twitching like she had said something funny. 

“So I don’t get it,” Robin said. “She’s right there, and I don’t even try, but you keep looking. What’s so special about me?”

“Oh,” Steve said, like he had just realized something. “She’s jealous of you.”

Robin shuffled but didn’t say anything. Of course Tammy was jealous. Steve sat next to her every day, did he really not see it?

“And you don’t like that,” Steve continued, like he was figuring something out. Unfortunately, he was figuring out entirely the wrong thing. Robin wasn’t here to talk to Steve about her friendship with Tammy, she was here to find out why Steve didn’t like Tammy and why he seemed to like her. 

“It’s not about me,” Robin said. 

“Right,” Steve said, inhaling his stupid carcinogens. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Robin asked. She was pretty sure she was smarter than Steve Harrington, so she didn’t know why she was the one feeling lost in this conversation. 

Steve stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. “I’ll fix it.”

The late bell rang. Robin wanted to ask Steve what he’d understood from this conversation, but she really did need to go to math class. Arriving late wasn’t a good way to fly under the radar. 

“Okay,” she told Steve, not quite sure what she was agreeing to. 

He gave her another one of those big smiles as she left the alleyway. It made something churn in her gut. 

She wanted to be the kind of girl who got excited when Steve Harrington smiled at her like that. She wanted Tammy Thompson to smile at her like that. She wanted to fall in love with someone who loved her back, and she wanted to not get chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks for it. 

***

The next time Robin walked into Ms. Click’s class, Steve was flirting with Tammy. 

Robin had to stop in the middle of the aisle, feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut. 

Tammy was leaning into Steve’s space, twirling her blonde curls around one finger. Steve was smiling at her, arm stretched over the back of her chair, listening attentively as she spoke. 

Robin forced herself to walk mechanically to her desk. She took her notebook and pencil case out of her backpack and very carefully arranged everything on her desk, doing anything she could to prolong looking up. She didn’t want to watch this. 

After what felt like the longest few minutes of Robin’s life, Ms. Click began talking. Robin risked looking up and saw that Steve had pulled his arm back and Tammy was sitting in her own seat again. 

She couldn't stop seeing them wrapped up in each other. 

At the end of class, Steve walked out quickly, the way he always did. Robin wondered if he always went to smoke behind the gym and that was why he ran away so fast. 

Tammy whirled to Robin, squealing, her face lit up in a beautiful smile. 

“Robin! Did you see that!”

Tammy hadn’t started a conversation with Robin in two weeks. Robin managed a real smile in the face of Tammy’s happiness. 

“I did,” she said. 

“I think he likes me,” Tammy said, almost shy, playing with the bracelets on her wrist. 

“Yeah,” Robin said, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. “I think so too.”

***

The rumors at band practice told Robin that Steve was still flirting with other girls. He seemed particularly interested in Nancy Wheeler, who was a priss and a nerd but who was pretty and definitely his type. He seemed to be slowly wearing her down. 

It made Robin furious. So Steve Harrington had a crush on Nancy Wheeler, fine, that made sense. But if he really liked her, and the rumors said he was absolutely head-over-heels, then what was he doing playing with Tammy and Robin? What the fuck was he up to?

***

A week later, Steve didn’t run out of Click’s class at the first sound of the bell. Instead he turned to Tammy and Robin and said, “I’m having a party at my house tonight. You’re both invited.”

“I’ll think about it,” Tammy said, smiling like this was a game. It was. They all knew Tammy would be going to see Steve and she was just trying to play it cool. 

“Cool,” Steve said. He met Tammy’s eyes, then Robin's. “I’ll see you there.”

Tammy waited until he walked away, then did a little shimmy of excitement. It was kind of lame, but also hopelessly endearing. Robin liked when Tammy didn’t try to act cool around her. 

“You’re going?” Robin asked dully. 

“Of course I’m going!” Tammy said. “This is going to be so much fun! You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, her mouth running before her brain could catch up with it. Tammy wanted her there. What else could she do? “I’ll be there.”

***

Robin got her dad to drop her off at the party. She was willing to bet she was the only teenager being dropped off by their dad, but her parents weren’t the type to be upset about her going out and they trusted her to drink responsibly. Plus, Robin couldn’t drive, so she didn’t know how else she was supposed to get there. 

By the time she arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music came from inside the house and a few people spilled out into the yard. 

Robin headed inside, dodging around a few couples making out against the hallway walls. Tammy was probably here already, right? Robin passed through the kitchen, filling a red solo cup with a tiny amount of vodka and a lot of coke. Jason Carver was there, flirting with Chrissy Cunningham, who was blushing at the attention. 

Robin slipped into the living room and that was where she found Tammy. She was standing against a wall, surrounded by Olivia, Melissa, and Karen. Tammy was holding a red solo cup and staring out at the other end of the living room. 

Robin followed her gave to Steve, who was talking to… Eddie Munson? Robin watched with her jaw slack until Steve came away with a grin and a joint between his fingers. 

That made sense, actually. Of course the only reason Steve Harrington would ever speak to Eddie Munson would be to buy drugs.

Robin went up to Tammy, hovering at the edge of the group as she said “hi.”

“Hey,” Tammy said, giving her a distracted smile. 

“I like your dress,” Robin said. She wanted to say that Tammy looked good, but that wasn’t a safe compliment. 

“Thanks,” Tammy said. “I got it in Indy.”

“It’s cute,” Robin said. It was — pink and ruffled at the edges and unlike anything anyone else was wearing. Something that screamed Tammy Thompson. 

The music went quiet for a moment, and Robin spun around, trying to figure out why. Carol Perkins was standing by the speakers. 

“Let’s play a game!” she said, blowing a bubble with her gum like the picture of teenage insouciance. “Truth or dare.”

She sat on the ground, Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington sitting beside her. A few more jocks joined — Jason and Andy from the basketball team, Chrissy and Fiona from the cheerleading squad. Heather Holloway and Patrick and Brenda. 

“We have to join!” Tammy said. She grabbed Robin’s hand and dragged her over to the circle.

Robin complied in a daze. Tammy was holding her hand. Tammy’s hand was soft and warm and not sweaty at all and Robin could die happy, Tammy’s hand in hers. 

Tammy released her as soon as they got to the circle and Robin felt suddenly bereft, taking a seat mechanically beside her. Melissa, Karen, and Olivia sat on Tammy’s other side. 

Steve Harrington was looking in her direction, eyebrows up, and Robin scowled at him. Steve smiled, hands up like he was saying don’t shoot, and Carol noticed and shot Robin a glare. 

“Tommy,” Steve said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tommy said. 

Steve grinned. “I dare you to let Carol take a body shot off you.”

Tommy scrunched up his face. “Don’t you mean I should take a shot off her?”

Steve blinked, absolutely nothing behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”

So Tommy lay down and balanced a shot glass on his stomach, so low it was practically on his hips, and Carol grabbed it with her mouth, tipping her head back to drink. Robin didn’t like Carol at all, but she had to admit there was something attractive about it, about the long line of Carol’s throat as she drank the shot and the dainty, self-satisfied way she wiped her mouth afterward. 

From there, they kept going around the circle. 

Heather Holloway gave Andy a lap dance. Fiona admitted to having done mushrooms. Jason Carver was dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the circle, which made him turn to Chrissy Cunningham and say “A good girl like you deserves better than some drunken kiss during truth or dare. What do you say I take you out to dinner tomorrow and then give you a kiss on your front porch at the end of the night?”

Chrissy’s smile was disarmingly wide. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Jason said. A few of the boys hollered and whooped, patting Jason on the back and shaking him a little. Jason looked bashful, hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink. 

“Finally!” Carol Perkins said. She turned to Chrissy. “He’s been pining over you since last year and it took him this long to work up the guts to ask you out.”

Jason screeched at Carol, who ignored him and winked at a pleased-looking Chrissy. Robin was hit with the sudden realization that Carol Perkins could be nice, when she wanted to be. 

Melissa got dared to swap clothes with Patrick, Karen revealed she’d shoplifted a pair of earrings once, and Olivia admitted to having made out with a boy in the school janitor’s closet. 

Then it was Tammy’s turn. 

“Truth or dare?” 

“Dare,” Tammy said, something brave in her eyes. 

A few of the girls conferred together — Carol and Heather and Fiona — before turning to Tammy with smiles on their faces. “We dare you to shotgun with Steve.”

Tammy’s eyes went wide. Robin didn’t think Tammy was the type to smoke weed, but Tammy pressed a confident smile onto her face. Maybe she didn’t want to back down from a dare. Maybe she just wanted a chance to press her mouth against Steve Harrington’s. 

Steve looked at her from all the way across the circle — if he, Tommy, and Carol were the North Pole, Tammy and Robin were the South, the antipodal point — and raised the joint questioningly. 

“Okay,” Tammy said. 

Steve took a drag off the joint and crawled across the circle. Tammy met him in the middle and he was gentle as he used one hand to tip her chin up, pressing his lips against hers and exhaling. Robin could only really see the back of Tammy’s head, but she was hit by a burning jealousy at the way Steve so casually touched her. 

It felt like it had been years since Tammy had held her hand. 

Tammy sat back beside Robin, a pleased little smile on her face. 

“Band kid,” Carol said, smiling meanly. “Truth or dare.”

Robin shuffled uncomfortably. So far all the dares had involved some kind of sexual display with the opposite sex and Robin did not want to kiss a boy or give him a lap dance. But she also had a lot of secrets she didn’t really feel like sharing. 

She should pick truth, right? Worst come to worst, she could just lie. It’s not like any of these people would ever know — none of them really knew her. 

“Truth,” Robin said. 

Chrissy started to say something, but Carol spoke over her. “Who was your first kiss?”

Robin’s cheeks flamed. Carol was doing this on purpose. 

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” Robin said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t that unusual, at least in the circles she ran with. 

But Carol reacted with extreme shock, her eyes going wide, her mouth dropping open. “Ever? That’s so sad!”

“Not really,” Robin said. Everyone was staring at her. She’d spent months trying to fly under the radar, and now they were all watching her and it was just as terrible as she’d thought it would be.

Carol kept going. “But why haven’t you kissed anyone? Aren’t there any boys you like?”

It would have been fine if Carol hadn’t paused a little, put more emphasis on the word boys. But Carol knew what she was doing, insinuating exactly what she had when she’d stood with Steve by Robin’s locker. 

Everyone in the circle was staring at Robin. Jason Carver looked disgusted. Tammy pulled back a bit from Robin’s side. 

Robin felt like she was going to throw up.

Then Steve Harrington scoffed. All eyes moved to him, to see what the King was going to say. Steve was relaxed, weight back on one hand, legs kicked out in front of him. “Not everyone is a slut, Carol.”

The like you went unspoken, but Robin saw it land. Carol’s face scrunched up with real hurt for a second, like she wasn’t sure why Steve was attacking her. 

Tommy, sitting between them, gave Steve a what the fuck look as he pulled Carol into his side. 

Steve either didn’t see any of this or pretended not to. He turned to Patrick, sitting next to Robin on the opposite side as Tammy, and said “truth or dare?”

Robin relaxed. It was over, right? They weren’t looking at her anymore?

She glanced around the circle and it seemed like everyone had moved on. A sneaky glance at Tammy showed that she wasn’t sitting as close to Robin as before, but she also wasn’t looking particularly repulsed. Maybe she had just forgotten to move back again. 

Robin didn’t really believe it. 

She tried to calm her racing heart as the next few people went. But when it was Steve Harrington’s turn, she couldn’t help but tune in. 

“Steve,” Tommy Hagan said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Steve said, like every teenage jock ever. 

Carol leaned over and whispered in Tommy’s ear and Tommy grinned. “I dare you to kiss Robin Buckley.”

Robin’s blood turned to ice. Once again, all heads in the circle swiveled to her. 

Robin didn’t want to kiss Steve Harrington. She had been saving her first kiss because she wanted it to be special. She could have pretended to like a boy, to kiss a boy, to date a boy. But she had wanted to save all her firsts for a girl — to have them be real and meaningful instead of a stupid farce. 

She didn’t have a choice though. Not after what Carol had implied earlier. If Robin didn’t kiss Steve, she would practically be confirming that she was a lesbian. 

Robin looked to Carol, who was smirking at her. 

“Yeah,” Robin said shakily. “Okay.”

Steve was watching her intently, something indecipherable in his eyes. He got to his feet and crossed the circle, kneeling down in front of her. 

Robin didn’t think she’d ever been this close to a boy. He smelled like hairspray and beer, and his eyes were brown and serious as she watched her. 

He gave her the same friendly smile he’d been giving her all semester, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. His breath was uncomfortably hot on her skin as he said, “trust me.”

Then he pulled back and squared his shoulders, cocky and unapologetic about it. He smirked around the circle, a boy proud to be showing off that he was kissing a pretty girl. 

Robin was going to throw up. Her heart was pounding and she was going to have to kiss a boy and Steve had been playing games with her all semester. 

Robin closed her eyes, preparing for the kiss and also trying to hide the hot tears she could feel building up. 

She jumped a bit when Steve’s hands landed on her face. He wasn’t holding her jaw delicately like he’d done to Tammy. Both of Steve’s giant palms where splayed across her cheeks, one of them half caught in her hair, dragging it in front of her face. Great. Her first kiss was going to taste like hair and that wasn’t even going to be the worst part of it. 

Robin kept her eyes screwed shut as Steve’s skin pressed against her lips and his nose bumped hers and — those weren’t Steve’s lips. 

Steve was close, yes, so close they were sharing the same air. So close that it probably looked like they were kissing. 

But this was a stage kiss. Steve’s thumb was over Robin’s mouth, his lips pressed to one side and hers to the other. 

Robin opened her eyes in shock. She couldn’t really see Steve — he was too close not to be blurry — but his eyes were pressed closed, brown eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. As if this were a real kiss. 

Where had basketball-playing, prom king Steve Harrington even learned what a stage kiss was? This couldn’t be standard practice for the popular kids — they played these games as an excuse to kiss each other, not to fake it.

And more importantly, why was he doing this? Was he that opposed to kissing her? Or had he somehow noticed her reluctance and decided to protect her while allowing both of them to save face?

Steve used his hands to tilt Robin’s head and she followed without resistance. He pressed closer, moving her back, and they still weren’t kissing but it probably looked like they were making out. Like he was into this. Like she was.

Robin closed her eyes. She could figure out the mystery that was Steve Harrington later. Right now, she had to help Steve sell this. 

She raised her hands to Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her sudden ardor as a request for a real kiss. 

He let out a little moan, his nose brushing hers as he tipped his head, and she smiled against his thumb. Holy shit. They were totally faking it and everyone was going to think she was a good enough kisser to make Steve Harrington moan.

After a long moment, Steve pulled back, simultaneously slipping his thumb to the side so it wouldn’t be over her mouth. 

He stayed in her space a second longer, eyes locked with Robin’s. He seemed pleased with himself, or maybe with her shocked expression. 

He licked his lips and Robin copied him automatically. Her lips tasted like beer and smoke but it was from Steve’s hand, not his lips, and that made all the difference. 

Someone wolf-whistled. 

Steve backed away, returning to his seat next to Tommy Hagan. Robin was speechless as the room returned to focus.

Carol looked pissed. Tommy was elbowing Steve, leaning in to tease him. 

“Damn, Harrington,” said some basketball jock Robin didn’t know. “I didn’t know you were into band nerds.”

“That was a hell of a first kiss,” another one said. 

Steve smiled, cocky and pleased and bashful all at once. He was a better actor than Robin had ever given him credit for. 

Tammy nudged Robin, and that’s when Robin realized she was still staring at Steve, dumb with awe. 

As everyone turned to Tommy Hagan, Tammy leaned in and whispered, “it looks like you really enjoyed that kiss.”

She was trying to smile, trying to gently tease like a friend would, but Robin could see the heartbreak in her expression. Robin wished she could tell Tammy that it had all been for show and that she hadn’t actually kissed Steve, but Tammy had pulled away at the accusation that Robin was a lesbian and only been okay touching her again after that performance of a kiss. 

This wasn’t a world where Robin got to have both Steve and Tammy. 

“Yeah,” Robin said, surprised to find she was telling the truth. She was glad she’d been dared to kiss Steve and not any other boy here. There were apparently layers to Steve Harrington, who she’d thought was nothing more than a pretty, empty-headed, girl-obsessed jock. 

She kind of wanted to know more about him. 

She glanced across the circle. Steve was watching Tommy try to do a handstand, until Tommy overbalanced and fell into Steve’s lap, making him yelp. Steve laughed as he leaned over Tommy, asking if he was okay, and Tommy’s eyes lit up in a way Robin recognized. The way she had probably lit up when Tammy had taken her hand. 

In that moment, Robin felt like she understood something about all of them. 

Carol’s frozen smile as she watched her boyfriend beam at Steve. The way Tommy pretended to fumble a bit climbing off Steve’s lap, if only to stay there a second longer. And Steve’s sharp eyes, catching Tommy’s adoration and Carol’s pain. 

“You’re too high, man,” Steve said, waving his joint in a big circle. Giving Tommy cover in case anyone else had noticed what Robin had. 

“Way too high,” Carol agreed, snatching the joint from Steve’s fingers. She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out, passed the joint back to Steve, and curled into Tommy’s side. 

Tommy and Carol looked like the picture of a happy couple and Robin realized it was another type of performance. Had Carol known before she started dating Tommy? Or had she fallen in love with him first, only realizing he liked Steve when it was too late to stop her heart from being broken?

Robin didn’t want to feel sympathy for Carol Perkins, who had tried so hard to ruin Robin’s night. But she pitied her a little, watching her playact at being happy and realizing that they were all doing it. All these stupid popular kids were just pretending to be shiny, happy people and the rest of the school was buying it, standing too far away to see the imperfections that would have been obvious up close.

Steve met Robin’s eyes across the circle, bringing the joint to his lips. His eyes were perfectly clear, pupils small, not like someone who had been smoking at all. Another slight of hand, like the stage kiss. 

“I think he likes you back,” Tammy said. 

Robin looked at Tammy, who was faking a smile just like the rest of the popular kids. Why hadn’t Robin seen it before? Tammy was brave and Tammy was kind, but she hid those parts of herself, trying to seem just as cookie-cutter perfect as the rest of the people in this circle. 

Robin didn’t want cookie-cutter perfect. She wanted real. 

She still didn’t want to break Tammy’s heart, so she said something she didn’t really believe about Steve. Not anymore.

“Maybe,” Robin said. “But like you said, he’s just a good time. He’ll be over me in two weeks.”

***

On Monday, Robin found Steve at his locker after school. 

His eyes went wide as she came up to him and he smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Robin said. She kicked the toes of her converse together. She’d spent all of yesterday doodling on them while watching tv. Maybe it was stupid, given how close Carol had come to outing her, but Robin was feeling a little bulletproof. She’d written I may not go down in history, but I’ll go down on your sister in pen on the whites of her shoes. 

Steve looked down at her feet and smiled. “Nice artwork.”

Robin froze, even though there was no way Steve could read her shoes while standing up. “Thanks,” she said stiffly. “I thought they could use some, uh, personality?”

“I like them better this way,” Steve said. 

Robin cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, wanna get milkshakes? You’re paying, of course.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “I’ll buy you however many milkshakes you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Do girls really fall for this desperate act?”

“I’m much cooler around girls I’m interested in,” Steve said. Robin believed him this time. He’d put his thumb over her mouth and then swaggered like he’d kissed her and she trusted him in a way she hadn’t before. 

She was dying to know why he’d done it.

“So it’s just your friends that you bribe into liking you,” Robin teased. 

“Yeah,” Steve said, shameless. “Usually more with free rides and arcade money, but I’ve used ice cream before.”

“You’re so weird,” Robin blurted out. Then she froze. It was practically social suicide to call Steve Harrington weird. 

But Steve didn’t get mad. He just laughed and said “you have no idea.”

“Yo, Harrington,” called a  basketball player walking down the hall. “Hurry up, you’ll be late for practice.”

“I’m not going today!” Steve called back. “I’m sick.” He gave a very unconvincing cough. 

The basketball player rolled his eyes. “Lovesick, maybe.”

Steve scowled playfully. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’ll tell Coach you’re too pussy-whipped to play,” the basketball player said. 

“Don’t you dare!” Steve called. Robin expected him to sound more offended at being called pussy-whipped. No teenage boy wanted to be told he would do anything a girl told him to do, even in exchange for sex. And Steve was definitely not getting sex. But the insult rolled off Steve like water off a duck’s back. “Tell him I have the flu.”

“Sure, sure, whatever.” The boy rolled his eyes as he disappeared around the corner. 

Steve closed his locker. “Ready to go?”

“You’re not going to basketball?” 

“No,” Steve said. “We’re getting milkshakes. I’m not giving up a chance to make Robin Buckley my best friend.”

“Aren’t you, like, first chair?” Robin said. She watched a lot of basketball games by virtue of being in band, she knew it was called starting line. But she enjoyed seeing Steve’s face scrunch up at her words.

Steve groaned. “God, that is annoying. Remind me to stop calling Dustin’s campaigns his nerd practices.”

“Who’s Dustin and what are campaigns?”

“A kid I babysit, and a Dungeons and Dragons game.”

Robin blinked. “Dungeons and Dragons? That Hellfire game?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “He’s not in high school yet, so he doesn’t play with Eddie as his DM, but I’m sure he’ll join in a few years.”

DM? Was that some Hellfire term?

Apparently the new Steve Harrington knew the terms to nerd games. He stage-kissed lesbians at parties and thought it was worth skipping basketball practice for a chance to be Robin’s friend.

“Who are you?” Robin asked. “And what have you done with Steve?”

“I’m a time traveller from the future,” Steve said. 

Robin laughed. What a nerd. “No, really.”

Steve started walking backwards down the hallway, keys swinging around his fingers. “I’ll tell you over milkshakes.”

He held a hand out to her, beckoning, a hopeful smile on his face, and it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. Robin had no clue why, but Steve Harrington really wanted to be her friend. 

Robin peeled herself off the lockers and took Steve’s hand, their fingers twining together, letting him pull her outside. 

[ditipatri]

Stolas is a Great Prince of the Underworld and a powerful daemon mentioned in Ars Goetia and Pseudomonarchia Daemonium. According to these grimoires, Stolas appears to the magician as an owl and teaches the arcane art of astronomy, the knowledge of herbs, and the value of precious stones. He is a mighty companion to a mage that wants to learn more of the craft and art of demon work. 

Stolas is a daemon I am personally close to, and owe a lot to for helping me in my path. I’d like to speak on some offerings that one can make for Him as well as a simple ritual to invoke Him were you to want it. 

Note: All suggestions are based on just my experience. Don’t take it as a guide.

These are some non-poisonous plants and herbs I can suggest for Prince Stolas: 

⋆ Asafoetida ✩ Basil ⋆ Bergamot ✩ Black pepper ⋆ Cassia ✩ Clove ⋆ Fennel ✩ Verbena ⋆ Licorice ✩ Star anise ⋆ Sage ✩ Agave ⋆ Jasmine ✩ Barrenwort ⋆ Blackberry ✩ Dark opal basil ⋆ Dusty miller ✩ Fern ⋆ Lady's mantle

Stolas is a daemon governing poisonous plants, which is why I will enlist some. Do NOT eat those and avoid touching them without first learning whether or not it’s safe. Do NOT let your pets eat these.

✩ Aconitum Napellus ⋆ Pyracantha ✩ Amaryllis hippeastrum ⋆ Gypsophila ✩ Morning Glory ☾ purple/pink ☽ ⋆ Wisteria ✩ Delphinium ⋆ Sweet Pea ✩ Horsetails ⋆ Golden Star ✩ Moonwort ⋆ Star Grass ✩ Hostas ⋆ Coleus

Precious stones are said to be Stolas’ field, which is why I find them very important in invoking Him as well as routinely approaching Him:  

🜃 Papagoite quartz 🜁 Star rutilated quartz 🜃 Kunzite 🜁 Dioptase 🜃 Space peridot 🜁 Meteorite pieces 🜃 Crystals shaped to resemble the 7 Planets 🜁 Crystals for each of the 7 Planets:

☿ Clear quartz ✦ Volcanic rock quartz 『 Mercury 』 ♀ Brown jasper ✦ Serpeggiante 『Venus』 ☉ Lapis lazuli ✦ Sodalite / Blue calcite 『 Earth』 ♂ Spessartine garnet ✦ Hematite coated quartz 『Mars』 ♃ Tiger’s eye 『Jupiter』 ♆ Cat’s eye ✦ Tanzanite 『Neptune』 ♄ Red jasper ✦ Citrine 『Saturn』 ⛢ Angelite ✦ Larimar ✦ Aquamarine 『Uranus』 ♇ Black onyx ✦ Hematite 『Pluto』

Many of the objects I’d like to suggest are related to the art of astronomy. You do not need to get expensive telescopes or other tools, you can get very cheap ones as well:

🜙 Spyglass 🝐 Telescopes 🜙 Astronomical clocks 🝐 Armillary spheres 🜙 Celestial sphere 🝐 Alembic 🜙 Astrolabe 🝐 Quill 🜙 Lenses & oculars 🝐 Small alchemy bottles 🜙 Alchemical scales 🝐 Richly textured fabrics 🜙 Feather crafts 🝐 Coins 🜙 Jewelry with precious stones 🝐 Metalcraft 🜙 Metal dice 🝐 Pendulums

I have to make it clear that all of these objects are to be acquired ethically. Body parts of roadkill, those you found on the ground or in a forest, or perhaps ones you already own will do.  Do consider the laws of the place you live in before picking up roadkill.

🜥 Bones of owl prey: mice, rodent-like mammals, rabbits, birds, squirrels 🜛 Skin of snakes and lizards 🜥 Eyes and body parts of frogs 🜛 Tails of lizards 🜥 Owl pellets 🜛 Owl claws, skulls, and feathers

While Prince Stolas can be a great companion and ally in the field of academics, you can do simple, daily things with and/or for Him, too. Here are some of my ideas: 

✧ Having your own garden of poisonous plants is a great idea to honor Him. Do not have it out in the open unless you can secure access to your property so no animal or human can accidentally hurt themselves by interacting with your plants.

༓ Feeding birds whenever you have a chance to might appease Him, as He is represented as a great owl. 

✧ Jewelry making might be a good idea. You can make jewelry for or with Him, offer it up after, wear it, charm it, or devote it to Him. 

༓ Stone polishing is one of the high-skill tasks I’d like to offer. While you do need special equipment and skill to do it, if you can safely learn this craft or already know how to do it, it is a good way to interact with Stolas. 

✧ Investing into arcane arts and practicing alchemy in a safe way is a great way to bond with Stolas, as He’s said to be a Scientist and Alchemist. 

༓ You could buy a very cheap telescope, if your funds allow you to, and watch the night sky to try and memorize the stars as well as generally learn more about astronomy.

✧ In addition to stargazing, you can create a star map journal, pages on astrology or astronomy for your book of shadows if you have one, or a magical side journal to keep track of Lunar phases, planetary movement, and properties of the celestial bodies. 

༓ You can create a list of personal correspondences of planets and their properties to deepen your understanding of Arcane magic.

✧ Learning how to tell time or location by the stars. 

༓ While this might take some time to master, you can communicate with Stolas through stargazing. Twinkling of the stars and celestial movements could be tracked and recorded to further identify them with certain responses you and Him agree on. 

✧ Having a journal on herbalism or precious stones could further your communication with the daemon. You can invest into learning more of your region’s native plants and stones to localize your craft, too. 

༓ Creating devotional objects with bones or ethnically acquired animal body parts or investing into bird taxidermy, if you can afford it. 

✧ You can craft more objects, too, including pendulums or other magical tools you’d like to use in your demon work. 

༓ Numerology is sacred to a lot of daemons, so creating personal number sigils, mandalas, numerical codes, and otherwise number-based magic tools would not be out of realm of possible devotional activities for Stolas. 

✧ Drawing Him personal portraits, sculpting busts, or otherwise depicting His image is a good way to honor Him. 

༓ And lastly, you can do simple offerings for Him where you place the objects you want to give Him in a bowl, which can include fruits, nuts, and otherwise foods that He prefers. 

Everyone’s approach with demon work is going to be different. This ritual isn’t mean to be universal, but I believe it’s a relatively simple beginner level rite that everyone can do as all the materials involved in it are easily accessible. Be aware of fire safety rules. 

For this ritual, you’ll need something to write with, a piece of paper, a bowl (preferably tin), herbs of choice, and a pendulum (optional). It’s preferable you start doing this ritual after sunset. 

On the paper, draw Stolas’ sigil, whether it’s one you personally made for Him or one from Ars Goetia. I will not be linking it here, as I am not to invoke Him, but you can access the grimoire in the list of my sources.  After the sigil is drawn, wrap your chosen herbs you’ve picked to represent Stolas in this piece of paper. You can activate the sigil in any way you’d like prior: by looking at it, smearing your saliva or other fluids over it - this is up to you. You can chant during this process, call out for Him, or simply think of Him.

After that is done, place the wrapped sigil in the bowl and leave it, preferably under moonlight, or underneath the stars if outside, for the night. Before sunrise, discard the sigil by burning it in the bowl or, if you can’t burn it, tearing it apart and placing it in the bowl. This specific ritual is designed for burning or tearing of the sign, but if you can incorporate your personal means of sigil work here, feel free to. 

While the sigil is burning, or while it’s in the bowl, you can optionally use pendulum for spirit communication with Stolas or simply call onto Him. Either way, if you feel that the ritual has been accepted by the Prince, you’ll feel His presence soon. 

Sources in my pinned. 

[astxroiid]

meant to be yours // stalker!edward nashton

wc: 4.3k

Warnings: dark themes! Stalking, obsession, manipulation, screaming, murder, 1 mention of s*x trafficking (not Ed), mature themes! swearing, smut, 18+ content, oral (m and f receiving), implied inexperienced!Eddie, bondage, penetration, unprotected sex! Please be safe irl! dom!reader, sub!eddie, masochism, sadism, bondage, breath play.

Summary: as you start fresh in a new city, you hope Gotham won’t be the same as the town before. And after beginning a relationship with the cutest boy you’ve ever seen, you really hope things go well - but it all takes a turn when he leaves his laptop open and unlocked…

Author’s Note: I do not support any actions taken in this fic. This is purely for self indulgence - I do not condone these actions in the real world. Stalking is a real crime and a horrible thing to actually do. I’m just writing out my own sexual fantasy.

navigation ✩ part two <?>

Edward had frequented the café you work at almost immediately after you got the job. Granted, that wasn’t long, but seeing such a handsome man everyday gave you something to look forward to.

You’d been pretty down after leaving your hometown - your ex having ran you off. Edward already knew that, though. He also knew his name was Michael and he grew up in a wealthy family - but you hadn’t.

Typical, he thought, some big and rich town boy looking to use a pretty girl for a short time before discarding her and moving on like it never happened.

But - rather uncharacteristically - he didn’t move on as fast as they normally do. He held on, harassed you into quitting your job and losing your friends. That wasn’t enough for Mike though. He wanted it all. He continued with his tormenting until he was satisfied and you had fled town.

Edward made a mental note to compare this man to Icarus, flying to close to the Sun, too greedy for his own good. Edward would make sure his wax wings melted. But that was an issue for later.

Right then he was focused on getting your attention. At this point in time you’d never spoken to each other. At least verbally. In Edwards eyes he just knew the glances over your shoulder meant something more than seeing if he needed a refill.

It was a way of telling him you were interested, you wanted him - just as much as he wanted you.

To be fair, he wasn’t completely deluded. His creep-o brain hadn’t made it all up. You were interested. And you definitely wanted him. Your favorite pastime being filling up his cup, slightly bent over with your shirt undone. This gave Ed a complete face full of your chest.

The best part was watching his face go red but he’d never move his eyes, keeping them set on the one spot. You’d giggle, ask if he was okay, pretend you didn’t know. But you both knew you meant it.

One day you had purposely worn your skirt higher, bending over and letting Ed see your red laced thong. His eyes never left you after that.

Another day you had deviated from your schedule, requested off on a day you normally worked. This threw Eddie of his rhythm. You walked in wearing your normal clothes, one’s Edward never saw outside of binoculars, media posts, and long distances away.

A low-cut, v-neck shirt and tight jeans topped off with Vans and sparkling jewelry.

You scooted into the booth opposite him, smiling. The poor boys expression was one of shock and fear. Were you confronting him? Had you found out it was more than just coming into the café everyday? Did you find out his plans for Michael?

None of it made sense. Why would you be smiling if you had?

You giggled. “I figured since you haven’t asked me out yet we’d just have a date here. It’s long overdue, don’t you think?” He nodded his head excitedly.

Edward smiled at the memory, you’d always been so forward, choosing action over inaction every time. He kissed your forehead and tucked you in.

“Mmm. D’you have to go to work?” You groan from the bed, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a proper kiss. Ed hums and struggles to catch himself as you pull him down more.

He breaks free, panting. “Honey, I’ll be late.”

“I don’t give a shit,” you retort, pulling him on top of you. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in, grinding up into his hips. His head hangs between your neck and shoulder. He groans at the pleasure.

“Stay with me,” you plead in a sultry tone, rubbing him with each sentence. “I want to feel you again.”

Your menstruations start to work on Eddie, he’s giving in. He kisses your neck and you feel him harden in his pants. 

It takes you starting to unbutton his shirt to bring him back. “My love, I really have to get going. I’ll miss the train.”

You huff and roll your eyes.

“Wait for me?” He asks. It’s a simple question that highlights undertones of a fear you’ll leave.

“Of course,” your voice is so soft it melts his heart. He kisses you one last time.

━━━━ ✭˚ ? >

You’d fallen back to sleep soon after Eddie left. You’d definitely had a long enough night to put you out of commission for the whole day.

You woke to the sound of a notification dinging. You checked your phone to see if it was Edward, only to realize your phone was dry. You look around for the culprit, connecting eyes with Ed’s laptop.

You squint at it angrily, moving to shut the screen but your eyes glimpsed the text appearing. The notification.

‘Local Billion-Heir Dies in Explosion at His Own Estate’ It’s talking about Michael.

Your hand comes to cover your mouth gently as you click open the article. Someone planted a bomb in his house, timed it perfectly to catch him off guard. They also leaked a lot of terrible things Michael and his family had been involved in.

Were it not for his death, you’d say he deserved it. His dirty laundry being aired to the world. Serves an asshole like him right. But he died. You remind yourself. He didn’t deserve death. Even after everything.

You happen to look up and read the tabs open on Edward’s computer. Basic stuff. Netflix, YouTube, and Spotify filling all three of the notes. Opening Netflix brings you to the movie you were watching with Ed last night - interrupted by other activities.

You check Spotify, finding a couple of handmade playlists and artists you could easily guess he listens to. Moving to YouTube you keep the same curious mood, sure it won’t be any different than the previous two.

It’s a video of a man sitting behind a table, plastic and metal pieces of a device scattered before him. You read the title. ‘Bomb Building for Beginners’

You gasp and jump back, knocking over the desk chair.

No. No this couldn’t be right. Just a crazy coincidence. Something for work. He is the head risk analyst at Shuttle Co. Maybe that has something to do with it.

You need to look more. The video is pretty basic, the man states that the video is purely for viewing purposes and not to be followed.

You search his desktop, hoping to find nothing while your heart pounds in your chest and a voice in your head knows you’ll find more.

There’s a file. ‘M.C.’. Michael Collins.

“Please be wrong. Please be wrong,” you beg in a whisper while clicking it.

You’re not. It’s pages upon pages of information about Michael. His parents. Where he went to school. What his hobbies are. Every partner he’s ever had since high school - including you. There’s pictures here you’ve never seen from the press.

Did Edward take these?

There’s also diagrams of bombs, how to detonate them from safe distances, keeping them untraceable…

You feel like your going to faint. Or vomit. Probably both. But some morbid part of your brain is still curious. It still wants to look, see everything Ed has done.

You find more on what Mike and his parents got up to. The files leaked to the press. The Collins’ ran a sex trafficking ring as well as some other extremely illegal incomes of money.

Their story of wealth was bullshit.

Maybe it was deserved. The thought passes your mind for a millisecond before you correct yourself. No. Not good. No one deserves to die like that.

C’mon. You know you wanted Big Mike Collins to get what was coming to him. And based on the evidence, his family was long overdue for a reckoning. The voice in your head persists.

“No! Stop. No one should kill anyone. I’m not defending a murderer.” You hit your temple with the heel of your hand.

You freeze, looking at the clock on the wall, realizing Ed will be home any moment. You scramble around trying to figure out what to do.

Do you take the laptop? Turn it in to the authorities? No, surly they’ll kill Eddie for what he did. You don’t want another murder. Do you leave him a note? Ask him to leave you alone - don’t talk to you ever again?

Your thoughts are interrupted buy Edward’s apartment door opening. “Hey, sweetheart, I missed you.”

His eyes land on your worried expression before flicking to his laptop, open and displaying his plans for Michael. Fuck.

“S-stay away,” you extend your arm in front of your body. “You’re a murderer!”

He sighs, setting his bag down. “Y/n, I only did what was best. You can’t tell me that asshole didn’t deserve his karma.”

“You’re crazy!” Ed steps toward you, palms up in submission. You jump back. “Get away from me!”

You run to the bathroom, locking yourself in.

“Y/N! Y/n, please. Listen—”

“Go away!” You sob, back pressed to the door. Your arms wrap around your knees, hugging yourself.

“He was terrible to you. He deserved to be put in his place!”

“By killing him?!” Your voice cracks and Ed’s heart breaks to hear you so broken.

“You saw the things he and his family did. How corrupt they were. They had it coming.”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Edward freezes, looking aghast. “I— but we— we’re meant to be together, y/n. Please. I’m yours! Just give me a chance!”

“No. You lost that chance when you killed a man,” you turn to the door angrily, pretending the wood was Ed’s face.

“Please! Open the door!” He begs, desperate. “Let me make it up to you! I promise! I’ll never do it again!”

Silence.

“Y/N OPEN THE DOOR!” He punches the wood dividing the two of you. “Open the door… please.”

The last word sounded so needy it reminded you of the night before. Involuntarily sending butterflies to your stomach and the memories. Fuck this is wrong on so many levels.

You hear his quiet sobs behind the door. Your positions match each other. Backs pressed into the wood, heads leaned back with arms hugging your legs. Everything the same down to the tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I wanted you to feel safe with me,” Edwards voice is hoarse and pathetic yet somehow still erotic. “I knew you’d never feel secure with that asshole still out there. I knew your fears of him coming back and breaking us up. But y/n, I’d never leave you. Not for anything.”

Against your better judgment, your heart warms at his words. How much he cares.

He’s demented! The logical side of your brain tries to reason. But the irrational side is giving in, sending heat to your core at the sounds of Eddie’s panting.

“Please don’t leave me,” fuck his begging is getting to you. If he keeps it up your logic won’t last long.

You both sit in silence for a moment. Fuck it.

You stand and Edward turns at your noises just in time for you to open the door, looking down at his pathetic form on the floor.

“Y/n- please I—”

You lean down and kiss him so fast he has little time to breathe. You place your hand under his chin, pulling him up. He struggles between standing and not breaking his kiss with you, scared it’s the last.

Once he’s up and his face above yours, his hands make their way to your jaw - holding you close. You press your tongue into his mouth and Eddie hums. Your jaws move in time, used to each other.

“You said you wanted to make it up to me?” You say parting from Ed and allowing him to breathe. He’s panting hard.

“Yes! Please! Anything. I’ll do any—”

“Get on your knees.”

His pupils dilate. “Yes ma’am,” he hits the floor immediately. You know this is wrong but - fuck - the way he’s looking up at you, glasses fogged, hair a mess, waiting.

“Take them off,” you gesture toward your shorts and he obeys. Grabbing the hem and tugging them down hastily. “Underwear too, Ed.”

Just your demanding tone alone has Eddie hard as a rock in his slacks. Once he’s done as he’s told, you smile and pull your shirt over your head.

He’s watching your every move like a hawk. Never taking his eyes off you. He sits with his hands in his lap, waiting for further instruction.

You run your fingers through his hair, lightly grabbing a handful.

“Go on,” you look him dead in his eyes. He knows what your saying and he follows. Opening his mouth he connects with your already soaking wet pussy. You’re both still keeping eye contact while his tongue starts to work on you.

You lean your head back and moan loud when he presses through your folds, flicking your clit. You use the hand full of hair to push him harder against you.

He moves his hands from his lap to your hips, massaging circles in the bone. Your legs go weak at the feeling of him working his tongue on you, knowing exactly how to press and push to get you closer.

You moan his name loud enough to feel the echo through the tiny apartment. You’re both panting, with you singing his name out repeatedly - sprinkling in bits of yes and swears to fuel his desire.

Eddie decides your not pushing hard enough and uses his grip on your thighs to pull himself into you with such a force you almost lose your balance.

You pull his head back by the hair and Edward moans at the pleasure, breathing heavy. You kneel down, bringing yourself to his level. Your lips connect again and you hum at the taste of yourself.

“Get on the bed, love.”

He nods again and stands at once, making his way to the beaten mattress.

Edward lays flat, patient for you, yet nervous most of all. You climb on top of him, raising yourself above his body. You reach into his side drawer and pull out a pair of fluffy handcuffs you never got around to using last night.

You gently take his wrists in your hands. “You gonna be a good boy for me?”

He gives a small, yet eager nod, doe eyes trained on yours.

“Words, baby. Use your words,” your voice, Ed notes, is gentle - like rain, or sunshine.

“Yes. I will.”

“Good.”

You lock his wrists in place, pulling the cuffs through the metal of the bed-frame.

You climb down his body, pushing his shirt up above his chest and moving on to his slacks, unbuttoning them as you place a tender kiss to the happy trail just above the low hem-line.

You take his pants and boxers down in one fluid movement, letting his impressive erection fall to his stomach. The poor boy already leaking pre-cum onto himself.

You bite your bottom lip and smile.

Once his pants are off you settle between his knees, taking his length in your hand.

He’s already pretty vocal. Moaning at the pleasure of just your hand on him. You knew he hadn’t done much before you but fuck you loved this.

You pump your hand once, rotating your hand and rubbing your thumb across his slit before moving your palm back down.

Fuck the moan he gives in response is enough to make you cum. It’s whinny and needy and silently begging for more. But you can tell from just this it’d be easy to make him cum.

You lift his cock up and lick a long stripe from base to tip, locking eyes with him as you go.

“F-f-fuck, ah…” his hips shake as his head falls back.

“You like that, baby?”

“God— fuck. Yes! Please…”

“Please, what, love? What do you want me to do? Anything for my sweet boy.” You brush his sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.

Already sweaty? Damn. You had more of an effect than you’d thought.

“P-please… keep touching m-me. Please,” he struggles against his restraints, wanting desperately to touch you.

“As you wish.”

You continue moving your hand up and down, rotating and pumping at an agonizingly slow pace.

He’s whimpering now.

“Mmm. Uh. More… please?”

“More? I’m using my whole hand, I can’t use more of that.”

He moans again as you stop your hand to grab his balls, squeezing them into your hand along with his shaft, letting them fall out of your grip as you move to pump him again.

“Mouth… use your mouth, fuck. Please.”

“Like this?” You ask, giving him an evil look as you wrap your mouth around the tip of his dick, swirling your tongue and humming.

“Y-yes. God— more, please,” he looks pathetic; his arms are straining against the handcuffs, face contorted in pleasure, hips shaking, chest sweaty.

You decide to stop teasing. Taking him more and more in your mouth, sinking down on his cock.

His exclamation of pleasure doesn’t fall on deaf ears, that much is evident by the pool of arousal dripping from your core, down your thighs.

You use your hand to pump what few inches you can’t take. He groans, long and whinny.

“F-fuck…”

You hum, sending vibrations throughout his base. You start to bob your head at a pleasant pace, not wanting to torture him anymore.

A string of curses leave his mouth along with hums of your name.

You dig the nails of your unoccupied hand into his thigh, leaving crescent shaped indentations in Edward’s skin.

He hisses at the pain mixing with pleasure, groaning when you drag your fingers down, leaving red scratches as you go.

You scoop his balls into the same hand that’s holding his length, squeezing them together.

“Fuck, baby— I’m close. Please— shit!” He interrupts himself when you spit on his tip, using your free hand to work it down his shaft and back up to the head of his cock.

You pull away from him, not ready for him to finish yet. Reaching up to the restraints at his wrists you unhook the claps and free him from the cuffs.

Ed’s hands immediately fly to your hips, shoving his face into your breasts - which happened to be positioned perfectly above him.

You smile, humming at the pleasure, and sit back on your heels. Edward follows you up, eyes locked on yours the whole time, mouth never leaving your tits.

His arms wrap around your body, Ed pulling you as close to him as possible. You run your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp along the way.

“Such a good boy for me…” you trail off, flashes of what was happening before all this coming to you. Reminding you of what he did.

Fuck this is wrong. Twisted in every way imaginable. But isn’t this what you’d always wanted? A man willing to do anything for you - not afraid of your big and rich ex, not worried of Mike coming for him because of you?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the pleasure of Ed pushing your hips down, grinding you against his erection.

“Fuck…” you’re more sensitive than you thought. Edward moans with you at the feeing - sending vibrations through your chest.

“C-can i— um- could i…”

You look down at him expectantly, his doe eyes locking on yours, he’s pleading with you to understand what he’s trying to say so he doesn’t have to speak it out loud.

You know what he wants, but it’s so fun to hear him ask. You play dumb.

“Could you what, baby? What does my pretty boy want?” You brush your hand through his hair and down the side of his face, cupping his chin.

He smiles sweetly at the nickname. “Can I put it in?” His voice is small, insecurity laced in his tone.

“Of course, baby.”

He nods quickly, reaching beneath you and aligning himself. You help him; leaning up, pushing your chest more in his face (though he’s not complaining), moving your hips to get him adjusted right.

You sink down slowly onto Edward’s cock, groaning and the sensation of him stretching your walls.

“Ah-h— uh…” he moans in your ear, trying his best to calm his heartbeat, or even steady his breathing. To no avail.

The sight of you, completely naked, cock pressed into your cunt, and blissed out will always have this effect on him.

“F-fuck,” he shakily groans and you rock your hips back and forth. He keeps looking between your face and where your bodies are connecting, unsure of what to focus on.

“Please… fuck. Y/n, please keep going. God! Don’t stop…”

You wouldn’t dream of it. Because fuck he feels amazing. He’s deep enough for you to feel his cock pushing into your cervix.

You lean in and capture his lips in a heated kiss. You push your tongue into Ed’s mouth, moving your jaws in time with each other.

You soon move your face to his neck, biting down. He exclaims in both shock and pleasure. You keep your teeth sunk into his skin until your satisfied with the mark that will be left.

You push Edward back, making him lay down again. You lean back, looking toward the ceiling. Edward wraps a hand around your breast and pinches at your nipple.

You moan at the mixtures of pleasure he’s giving you.

“Fuck, baby. Squeeze them,” you instruct. He does as he’s told. Using both hands to squeeze your tits, massaging them and occasionally rubbing your sensitive nipples.

You lean forwards and Eddie’s hands move to gently hold your hips as your fingers wrap around the columns of his throat, cutting of his circulation.

His head feels dizzy as you expertly roll your hips down onto him. A strangled moan leaves him and you don’t let up on your movements.

There’s a knot forming in your stomach, but you can tell Ed is closer to cumming than you.

You tighten your grip on his neck when you feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck… can I- can I cum?” Edward’s squeezing his eyes shut, concentrating as hard as possible.

“Cum for me, baby. I want you to finish inside me. I wanna feel you filling me up.”

And just as he tips over his own edge you release his throat, allowing the blood to flow back to his brain.

Eddie cums deep inside you, holding your hips down to his.

The moan he gives is pathetic and needy, high pitched as he breathes out your name.

Ed uses his hands to move your hips, making you grind a few more times on him.

You slide off of him, feeling hollow without him in you.

You let him catch his breath, smiling down at him.

“Did you..?”

You shake your head. He looks upset.

“Don’t worry, love. You’re helping me with that. Right?”

He nods aggressively.

“Good.”

You move to position your core above his face, looking down your body and into his expectant eyes.

“You’re going to eat me out until I cum. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Edward hooks his arms behind your hips, resting his hands on your inner thigh.

He stretches upward licking through your folds, pulling a moan from deep in your chest.

You push yourself down onto his face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue pressing inside of you. His nose grinding into your clit.

“Mm, fuck. Ed… just like that.”

He makes your hips grind into his face, causing pleasure to erupt throughout your body.

You look down at him, eyes connecting with his as you grab at his soft blonde locks. Ed moves to your clit, sucking and lapping at the sensitive nub.

Your moans are like honey to Edward, sweet and gentle. He feels himself grow hard again. He didn’t mean to but— fuck you taste so good, so sweet, and your noises, and the way you look right now— he couldn’t help himself.

“Eddie… baby… I’m so close.”

He almost misses it, too lost in thought. Almost.

He slows his pace, pressing his tongue flat against your clit and working it up and down. Even strokes bringing you close to your release but not fast enough.

You take it into your own hands, grinding down onto his face and getting the force you desperately crave.

The knot in your stomach tightens and pulls until you believe it truly can’t anymore.

You tug on Ed’s hair, pulling out a moan from his throat. That’s what draws the rope in you taught. Releasing on Eddie’s face, squeezing his head with your thighs as you cum, shaking.

He laps it up, devouring your climax and anything left. Fuck you taste so fucking sweet.

You huff and pull yourself off of him. Eddie is smiling hard, satisfied with your pleasure from him. You land beside him, turning your head to Ed and matching his smile.

You kiss him, tasting yourself. He leans his full body into you. “Are you hard again?” He looks ashamed of himself.

“C’mere,” you tug him on top of you, letting Edward prop himself up on his elbows before he slides into you.

“It’s gonna be a long night, huh?” You giggle and Eddie smiles back at you.

“I sure hope so.”

━━━━ ✭˚ ? >

You wake beside Edward, smiling as you tighten your grip around his torso. You run circles on his skin as your mind wonders.

This was so wrong. You’d just knowingly slept with a man who committed murder. He killed a man. And he was unfazed. If it’s all so bad… why don’t you actually feel bad about it?

He’s so sweet. And he loves you, that much you know. He’s willing to do anything to keep you safe. You love him too. Nothing should get in the way of that. And Michael? That sex-trafficking, abusive asshole deserved it. He had it coming.

Thank y’all for reading !! Had a lot of fun w this one but please remember that I condone none of these actions and it’s purely fantasy!

proofread and editorial help by: @spidey-multi

[ghostgorlsworld]

Violent Delights (Part three)

Summary: Billy Hargrove is the silent, angry coworker you've been trying to avoid for months, unwilling to get yourself tangled in Hawkin's bad boy. But one day, you begin to notice the scars on his body, the random attacks of headaches and violent flashbacks, the way you always had a nagging feeling there was someone else peeking at you from his eyes--you've never been able to resist a mystery.

Part One and Two can be found right here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/writerwannabetree/689499396213243904?source=share 

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/writerwannabetree/689689605188026369?source=share

Warnings: 18+, sexual thoughts, masturbation, violence I guess, um explicit language, billy is a warning by himself.

Part three:

Billy has never needed anyone. 

When Billy was younger, Neil wasn't too bad of a father, seeming to have more patience with a small, vulnerable boy than he does with a full grown man that reminds him of himself. They would play catch in the backyard every once in a while and Neil would go to all of his basketball games—whenever Billy made a point or left some other boy crying behind the bleachers, he would put a heavy hand on Billy's shoulder and whisper the words that he loved more than life: "Billy, I'm proud of you."

Then Billy got bigger, meaner, and those words stopped coming from his father's mouth. His mother became more erratic—instead of cereal for breakfast, she would start to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, forget what she was doing, and paste mustard over the peanut butter. She would forget how to tie her shoes, so Billy would tie them for her, her eyes staring down at him distantly as if she couldn't quite remember who he was. 

One night, while Billy was curled up in bed, Neil pushed her up against the fridge and began to slap her so hard that blood was spattered to each end of the kitchen. Billy proceeded to take one of the kitchen knives off the counter and slice a chunk out of Neil's arm, which ended the night with Billy and his bruised mother sitting at the ER in silence while a nurse sewed up a humiliated and pissed off Neil. Billy had never felt so angry in his life, staring at his father's blood still crusted under his fingernails and wishing that he had cut deeper, wishing that he had hurt him more.

Mom left two days after that. 

She packed up her soft cotton dresses and her grandmother's jewelry and left while Billy was still asleep, a Post-It note stuck to the end of his bed saying I'M SORRY. No explanation, no I-love-you, just…I'M SORRY.

He still needed her then—he tried to find her, of course, but Gladys Hargrove seemed to disappear into thin air. For whatever reason, Billy had always imagined her in her favorite white sun dress, her hair loose around her shoulders and her tired face smiling as she walks into the ocean, swallowed up by blue and never to be seen again.

By the time Neil married remarried, Billy didn't need a mother either, and certainly not one that came in the form of Susan, Max's mother. 

He hated those two almost as much as his father because they meant that his mother isn't coming back, that even if she did, she wouldn't have a home to come back to. Neil moved them all to Hawkins and Billy felt like he could set the entire town on fire with his anger.

Of course, you know what happens from there. The Upside Down and possession and malls burned to the ground—Billy survived because he did the first decent thing he had ever done in his life and tried to save Max, because he hadn't been able to save all those other girls he gave to the Mind Flayer, because deep down, she was the closest thing to family he had and he loved her.

Max saved him in return, managing to whirl him into a hospital before he bled out completely. He's spent the last year convinced that she should have just let him bleed, let him lie there and die without all of the guilt and anger and confusion circling in his mind like sharks.

The first day out of the hospital he took the settlement the Starcourt Mall gave him for nearly killing him in a "fire" and moved out of Neil's house, taking Max with him.

Max and the kids trust him now, thinking the Mind Flayer is long dead. Max moved in with him when he asked, into a rickety little trailer house with shitty A/C and peeling paint but no Neil, which makes it the best house he's ever had. 

But Billy has nightmares, even in the day. Sometimes, he catches himself thinking bad things, especially about her, his coworker for God's sake—it started long before that day in the backroom, in fact, it started his second day, when she offered half of her lunch because he was fucking stupid and forgot to bring his. She didn't want to get into his pants, hell, she didn't even want to speak to him—she was nice because she could be nice. Because it didn't cost her anything to be nice.

Billy's libido dropped around the time he was nearly killed by a creature from another dimension, understandably, but it began to bother him when six months later he couldn't look at Mrs. Wheeler's curves without thinking of Heather and the way she had screamed when he held her down—which made the guilt and anger come back and pretty much kill any lust he could muster.

Billy used to love sex, he loved how it made him feel, how it satisfied that gnawing itch inside of him that craved intimacy and warmth. But the want was gone, and suddenly he had too much time on his hands in the shower. Until a coworker gave him half of her sandwich. 

(Y/N) wouldn't have been someone Billy would've looked at before—she was too smart, too sarcastic, too soft for his tastes, at least he thought until he found himself staring at the line in her jeans where her hips met her thighs. Even the dark part of him liked her, the part leftover from the Upside Down—his nightmares started including her, her beneath him in Heather's place in that dark warehouse, her noises soft and sweet instead of terrified, his hand wrapped around her throat like a necklace.

It was better than waking up screaming, the taste of blood in his mouth. He could jerk off in the shower and fall back in bed, sleeping better than he has in months.

Billy would've dropped the job at Family Video for something a little more exciting and better paying if it hadn't been for you—it wasn't like he wants to date her or even fuck her (which are both lies he tells himself daily) but it was the fact she made him feel like himself again. He cared what he wore around her, he cared what his hair looked like, what he smelled like—even Max noticed the difference, her pale eyebrows raising from across their crappy little kitchen as he tucked and untucked his shirt into his jeans, unable to decide which made him feel more like Mel Gibson from Lethal Weapon. She had hid her smile behind her cereal bowl but he still caught it.

It felt good for Billy to want something for himself again.

The only problem is that she doesn't want him. Like he said, she's too smart. 

"Is everything okay?" Max asks when he storms into the house, slamming the rickety screen door shut behind him. She's doing homework at the kitchen table, eating a dinner consisting of a grilled cheese and chocolate pudding.

Billy opens his mouth to snap at her but her paling face and wide eyes reminds him that he can't be his father anymore. "Yeah," he says, his voice a soft rasp. "Yeah. Just a long day." Max relaxes slightly. "Did something happen with that girl?" Billy stiffens. "What girl?"

She rolls her eyes. "Billy, I'm young, not stupid. There's no way you would have kept that job for this long if there wasn't something keeping you there."

If you had told him a year ago, he would be discussing girls with Max, the sister he had never wanted, he would've laughed. But now…

Billy pulls a beer out of the fridge and takes a seat at their kitchen table. "She's on a date with fuckin' Harrington." Max spits pudding. "Steve?! Our Steve?!" Before today, Billy didn't have much against Steve anymore. Steve took care of Max while Billy was in the hospital, letting her and some of the other kids crash with him and Robin on the nights when no one could sleep—Steve is the protector type, all fucking heroic and shit, a genuinely good guy. Billy isn't a good guy, he knows it—he's selfish and narcissistic and possessive and he wants to feed Steve Harrington and all of his goddamn good intentions to an Upside Down monster just for making her laugh, just for taking away the one thing that has made him feel human.

"Don't fight him," Max says, pointing a half-eaten grilled cheese at him. "Promise me." "No." "Billy." Billy rolls his eyes. "Fine, I won't put a crater in precious Stevie's face."

Max laughs unexpectedly, shaking her head. "You're jealous. Like, really jealous." "Fuck you," he tells her, but it lacks venom. 

She grins at him in reply, freckles stretching across her nose. She still looks so much like a kid, somehow, and sometimes Billy thinks she looks a little like his mom—which is stupid, he knows, but it used to make that anger inside of him rise to the surface, just that very slight resemblance. Now it reminds him that he's glad he didn't die in that fucking mall, that he could make amends to this girl who has all the reasons in the world to hate his guts.

"How's the kid, Lucas?" He asks, and she smiles a secret smile. He knows that secret smile means: young love, the innocent part before it all becomes about fucking—not that he would know, he simply jumped straight to the fucking part.

Max sits there a few more minutes to talk about her life, school and Lucas and the pack of nerds she likes so much, and then she retreats back into her room, leaving him alone in the kitchen with nothing but a cigarette for company.

He lights up. Closes his eyes. 

(Y/n) thought about his offer. Billy saw it in her eyes—she thought about it for a split second, ditching Harrington and spending the night with him. She's a smart girl though, she knows his reputation and told him she wasn't up for one night stands, her smile a little sad, her eyes flicking away from him as if she had already made her mind up.

But for once, Billy hadn't wanted sex. Or just sex. 

He meant what he said—he wanted her pretty mouth around a milkshake straw, her warmth beside him on the couch while they watched whatever girly shit she picked out, her laugh in his ear. And yeah, maybe he would be thinking about his hand up her pretty white skirt most of the time, but he would've waited until the third date, when he would be dropping her off at her house late at night with his hand on her soft thigh.

She would kiss him first, pushing up against him with her mouth curled up in a smile, her hand gentle around his jaw. 

Billy sucks in a hard breath, his pants tightening in an instant. 

He pushes himself up from the table and locks himself in his room, turning some music on so Max wouldn't question any…questionable sound coming from his walls.

She would want him. Not like how all those other girls did, but all of him, the insides and the outsides, her fingers slipping under his shirt to trace his scars as she kisses sweetly, her tongue hot and slick against his. 

Billy tugs his shirt off, then his jeans, sliding into bed with a towel and a bulge. 

God, it feels good to want again. 

To need again.

He'll have her one day, Harrington be damned. 

She'll lean over his console and press her hand against his stomach. Billy feels her body against him, plush and warm, his hand sliding to cup her throat gently as he bites her lip, her soft laugh huffing against his mouth. 

Billy trails his own hand down his belly and under his boxer's waistband, gripping himself with a groan.

In his daydream, he drags her over the console and into his lap, so he can feel what's underneath that little skirt of hers, her core warm and wet against the crotch of his jeans. She rolls her hips slowly to the rhythm of their mouths, sighing as his fingers slip under her skirt to slide aside her underwear.

His hips jump at the thought, sinking to the knuckle inside of her with her pretty little moans in his ears—before, fingering had been this mandatory step before the real deal, something he had to deal with, but now? 

Billy is inside her, feeling her tight warmth stretching around his fingers.

That's enough to make him come, shuddering with a helpless groan as he fumbles for the towel.

Christ. 

Billy stares up at the ceiling, his heart racing. 

Billy has never needed anyone. 

But God, he needs her. 

***

Billy wakes up that same night screaming. It's worse this time—its Mom in place of Heather and she's screaming and bleeding and clawing at his shoulders to stop this, Billy, what are you doing? Max is already in the room, trying to touch him, but he keeps her away, shaking so badly his teeth are chattering in his skull. He doesn't come out of it like he usually does—if he closes his eyes he can see Mom, and when he opens them the lights are too bright and the noises are too loud and suddenly he's telling Max to call someone, to call her, because with her, he remembers he's human. 

Then Max disappears too, and Billy is curled up on the floor with his knees to his chest, his mind seizing on nothing, his scars aching as if he somehow tore them back open. 

It's just a dream, he thinks. But he thought the Upside Down was a dream, with Heather and all the other bodies he fed to the Mind Flayer—for all he knows this could be real. 

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

My Little Hybrid Family_Part 13

Tags:  @  sweeneyblue1  

Twisted Wonderland Masterlist  

------------------------------------------------------

Since then the tension seemed to ease up a little in the house as slowly everyone got used to Malleus’ presence. 

Even if he had a tendency to randomly appear and disappear at will. 

The fact that he literally made no sound when he walked did not help matters. Everyone had gotten used to the shrieks of surprise that accompanied whenever Malleus just “appeared”. 

Kalim had taken it to be his personal mission to introduce Malleus to various things. Malleus quite liked some of the jewelry that Kalim had, but had no inclination to make it himself. 

Although Kalim didn’t play, he dragged Malleus to trying basketball with Jamil and Floyd. He also managed to convince Jade to play, so they could have a 2 on 2. Playing basketball was not something that Malleus enjoyed, plus he was so tall, he could practically not jump and score a basket. You bit back a laugh as his horns got caught in the net. He almost shredded the whole hoop. 

So then Kalim dragged him to see Azul to teach him about computers. That was an abject failure. No matter what they did, between Kalim and Azul, they could not even get the basics of technology into the draconic fae’s head. Azul got so mad, he tossed both of them out to continue his research. 

Jamil only twitched when Kalim brought Malleus into the kitchen. Having Jade around was bad enough. He didn’t need another, especially if they were going to be a problem. Although Malleus followed instructions well enough, he found he really didn’t like cooking enough to be bothered either. 

One day, after Kalim had exhausted his supply of ideas had retreated somewhere to form yet another plan, he had left Malleus in a TV room. Malleus stood for a long moment before finally sitting down, only to jump up suddenly because he sat on something. The TV popped on and Malleus picked up a rectangular looking contraption, but his gaze had become riveted as he slowly took a seat. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been engaged before the remote was snatched out of his hand and the channel changed. He blinked and looked up to see Leona looking at him boredly, “Move.” 

“Excuse me, I was here first.” 

“You are in my way. I like this couch. Second best in the house after the den, and I want to watch TV. Move.” 

Malleus slowly drew tot his full height and glared down at the lion hybrid, “I will not ask again, Leona. I was interested in that! Turn it back on!” 

Leona smirked, “No.” 

Malleus’ right eye twitched. Normally he would not stoop to engage with this childish hybrid, but he wanted to see whatever it was. They were walking through this really cool gothic looking castle, reminding him of his childhood. The longer the fight took, the more he was missing out on. 

Leona dangled the remote in his face, “So lizard, whatcha gonna do?” 

Malleus only closed his eyes. To any other, it might have looked like he had given up, but Leona was not fooled. However, he was not prepared for Malleus’s eyes to shoot open and snatch the remote from his grasp. Leona quickly snatched it back, and then both were holding one end of it in a kind of tug of war. Random buttons were pressed, and the TV kept flipping channels and turning off and on. 

“What is wrong with you? Let go!!” Leona cried. 

“Are you truly okay with such childish behavior?” snorted Malleus. 

“You are the one fighting with me?!” 

“You started it!!” 

“WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON HERE?” You had to yell over the noise of the TV, that had risen exponentially.  

They both jumped back. The remote fell to the ground, making the batteries pop out of the back of it. Malleus only stared at it. Oh, no, did they destroy it? He bent down to pick up the pieces and held it forlornly. Leona rolled his eyes and Malleus watched as he replaced the batteries, turned down the volume and turned off the TV. 

You looked between the two, “Mind explaining? I could hear this TV from the other side of the house!”

Curiosity had gotten the better of other hybrids, so they stuck their heads in the door. Seem they all heard the volume of the TV and came to investigate.  

“Forgive me, Miss. L/N….” Malleus started. 

“It was nothing!” Leona yawned, “I wanted to watch TV and Malleus was being a baby about it.!” 

Malleus’ eyes flashed, “That is not true!”

“Sooo, you all were fighting over the remote?” your mouth twitched. 

Malleus dropped his gaze, “It was an interesting show.” 

You blinked, “What was?” 

“I don’t know. They were walking around some interesting gothic castles. I didn’t get to finish because Leona wanted to watch TV.” 

You glared at Leona, “Really? You gonna be that petty? Honey, there are like three TV rooms in here! Not to mention your own den, has a TV!” 

“This is the second-best couch!” groused Leona. 

“Oh, shut up! Do you know what channel it was on before you rudely changed it?” 

Leona only stared at you, “How would I know that?” 

“If it was gothic castles they were walking around, it might be channel X. They have lots of documentaries on such things, especially this time of year.” Azul offered from the doorway. 

“Fine, could one of you run to the west den and see if you can get it on?” you asked. 

Azul and the Leech twins left while you gave a warm smile at Malleus, “Come along. Let’s leave Mr. Grumpycat to his own devices. Maybe that program will still be on.” 

Malleus glanced at Leona who had long since laid on the couch and was snoring away with a nature channel playing in the background, before following you out the door. Kalim gave him a huge smile and said not to worry about it, while Jamil just glared at Leona. Malleus could hear a pillow being hit against Leona as he gave a yelp and growl. He smirked. Seems, Leona’s “elders” might deign to lecture him. 

“Was this is?” Azul asked as the two of you entered. 

You watched as Malleus became once again enraptured as he sunk to the couch. You gave a small smile. You would have to remember to show Malleus how to use the remote. 

The four of you exited the den, and you smiled at Azul, “Thank you, Azul.” 

Azul’s gaze skittered away from you, “Ahh, glad to be of service.” 

The Leech twins snickered. 

You leaned over and kissed Azul’s cheek, making him turn red, his glasses fogging up, “Wh-what-what’s that for?” 

“For being you.” you smiled. 

Jade grinned, “Careful, you don’t overcook and turn into calamari, Azul.” 

“Ol’ Azul sure chilled out over these months, hasn’t he?” Floyd grinned. 

“S-s-shut up!!” Azul snapped before fleeing down the hallway. 

You gave a laugh and turned to walk in the opposite direction, but were stopped by a twin on either side. 

“Oi Shrimpy, aren’t you forgetting something?” 

A smile lingered on your face, “What’s that?” 

Jade held his hand to his heart and gave a little bow, “Ah, that’s not nice, Miss. Y/N. Please bestow upon us your blessings.” 

“What he said.”  

You laughed at Floyd’s put off demeanor and Jade’s politeness, before reaching up to kiss both of them on the cheek, “Better?” 

“Much.” Jade smiled. 

Floyd’s answer was to pick you up and swing you around. 

“Put me down, you crazy eel!” you cried, making Floyd laugh louder. 

As the three of you went in the other direction, none of you were aware of a horned head peering out into the hallway behind you. 

Part 14

[analiavs]

Give Me Some Sugar

Kylar/Briar

word count: 4455

Warnings: Kylar, rape, stalking, kidnapping, electrocution, KYLAR, drugging, choking, a pinch of mind break and a dash of Stockholm syndrome

Summary: Briar catches the attention of a sweet little sugar daddy. But of course he's more than meets the eye

AO3 link for those that prefer:

Hit read more if you prefer to read in tumblr (it's long tho)

He’d been searching for his beloved when he saw them, Hanshoku Kanona made flesh. He couldn’t believe his eyes. S-rank ass, D-rank chest, long brown hair with matching eyes, milky skin, and perfect teeth. He’d thought his beloved would be the closest he’d ever get to seeing perfection in real life, but the lithe form in front of him changed everything. 

“Listen kid, I’m not for sale.” The voice, while not deep, was male. Well, maybe absolute perfection came at a cost. How could he have thought himself worthy of seeding the pinnacle of humanity after all. Nevertheless he could practically visualize his darling in a mating press.

“I’m a man. Don’t underestimate me, I’ll be sure to win your heart.” He quoted his favorite badass anime character  Yūdokuna otokorashi-sa. 

“Excuse me?” 

“What do you like? I’ll prove myself worthy of your love.” 

“Honey I have expensive tastes, a brat like you could never satisfy me.” Just as quickly as he’d met them, he watched his beloved strut away. He’d seen him then. A designer suit and jewelry adorning his body. If his beloved wanted to be a sugar baby he could provide.

Kanona would never have been driven by greed, but once he’d lured his beloved into his grip he could show him the way. He’d make sure to get as much information as possible from the strippers at school. And finally lay his trap.

—- 

He cornered one of the Chads the next day. 

“Listen man, I don’t want any trouble.” He’d put his hands up. Yes, he had his knife out, but it was necessary for the interrogation. It was lunchtime so there wouldn’t be anyone in this hallway.

“Just answer my questions and there won’t be any problems.”

“Ok ok, just put the knife down dude.”

“NO! Not until you answer my questions.” He pulled some of his pictures out, his hands trembling from the adrenaline.

“Who is this? And what do you know about them?”

“Huh, Briar. He’s the owner of the brothel. A really corrupt and evil person, is he blackmailing you? If you need help Kylar-” The information close at hand his frenzy grew.

“No I don’t! Give me more information!”

“Um ok. He’s um basically an alcoholic, but he only drinks wine. He’s got a daddy kink. Shit… what else? He’s dangerous, I don’t recommend catching his eye. If he really likes you, you'll get better paying but more degrading shows or have to service him personally.” The Chad rambled. He trembled with rage at the thought of this jock getting to touch his beloved. For a hot second he considered stabbing him, but it wasn’t his fault if his beloved was slutting around trying to find his soulmate. Besides, neither of them were still pure.

“Never touch him again!” 

“Listen man, if it was my choice I’d never even go to Harvest St.” The Chad shrugged. He grit his teeth before leaving to get to his next target. He found her flashing passersby in the courtyard. He couldn’t believe he’d once thought this mere Stacey was worthy of his affection.

“Come with me!” 

“You wanna fuck?” The bimbo asked, eagerly following him. He led her to a bathroom stall. 

“What do you know about Briar?” She seemed confused, lowering the skirt that didn’t cover the cum dripping down her legs. He couldn’t believe only yesterday seeing that would have filled him with jealousy.

“The brothel owner? He’s a real shady sonnuva bitch. You don’t want to get involved with him bruv, you might end up in a real froggy situation.” 

“Tell me about him!” She scoffed,

“What about him? He’s a sloppy drunk and a solid fuck. Likes pretty things, likes breaking pretty things. Real sadist type ya know? One of the worst scum this town has to offer but he’s charismatic.” They weren’t saying anything of substance about his beloved. Merely his negatives, the negatives he was going to fix.

Without saying anything else he left the bathroom stall. That must mean no one truly knew him. He’d get his beloved to open up to him and only him. He chose to forgo the rest of his lessons and dedicate himself to his mission. 

He rushed home to collect his tool kit. He heard his parents hissing with displeasure over him cutting class. But they didn’t understand, no one did. He grabbed his surveillance equipment: bugs, camera, binoculars, his spy cameras, and tracking devices. 

He stared reverently at his poster of his dear Kanona, soon he would be able to feel her between his fingers. He dressed in a fully black outfit, completed with a hoodie, mask, gloves, and sunglasses. While he may not be the ideal size of an alpha male it wasn’t all negative. Plus, that Stacey had always told him he had inches where it mattered.

One look at his dick and his precious would know he was a true alpha male. And ever since he’d started following Dr. Magnum’s workout videos he’d been gaining physical strength. Combine that with his limitless pepper spray supply and he would be unbeatable. Finally, factor in his wealth and there was no debate he was a high-value man. 

He recited Dr. Magnum’s fifteen affirmations for high value men in the mirror until he felt the strength from the words in his soul. Prepared and confident he headed towards Harvest Street. He followed the hidden paths that avoided the other townspeople. 

He made it to Harvest Street without a confrontation and snuck into the brothel unnoticed. Since it was still afternoon, there weren't many patrons. He had to be extra discrete while planting his bugs and spy cameras.

He kept a constant scan of the brothel as he worked. No one noticed him. Once he set devices to have a 24/7  stream of data from the brothel he slid into the shadows to wait for his beloved to come out of his office.

As it got later in the evening more patrons and strippers arrived. His beloved shouldn’t associate with all these dirty grimy people. Well, soon the only person his dear Kanona would see was him. Shortly after the Stacey strutted in, Briar finally stepped out of his office.

He resisted the urge to abduct his darling right then and there and forced himself to focus on his mission. He picked the lock to the room with ease and slipped in, making sure to lock it behind him. 

Instead of a desk like he expected he saw a rather ornate sofa. There were a few filing cabinets and barrels in the room but besides that the room was empty. He quickly set up his bugs and cameras. He found a stash of wine bottles. 

They were expensive, but not as expensive as some of the bottles in his parents' wine cellar. He might have just found a good use for them now.

He went through and inspected the other fixtures in the room. The barrels he saw a large amount of aphrodisiac drugs. He wanted to go through the filing cabinets, but he didn’t want to risk leaving a trace. As he was doing a final sweep he noticed a door hidden in the wall. 

Intrigued, he picked the lock and snuck into the room. It looked like a bedroom, a private bedroom. Glee tickled his spine. This room was meant only for his darling’s eyes, no one else. This was their little secret. He was overjoyed as he planted his bugs and spy cameras. There was even a little bathroom attached to the room. His feed would be glorious, he could never have expected such a stroke of good luck. He set cameras everywhere. 

He took note of what kind of soaps and perfumes he preferred. Even the clothes and jewelry. And couldn’t resist the urge to steal a pair of red briefs out of the underwear drawer. His beloved scent was all over them. He inhaled deeply, sighing in pleasure.

As much as he wanted to stay in the room forever, he knew he couldn’t linger for too long or he’d run the risk of being caught.  Reluctantly he snuck back out of the bedroom and office. No one saw him, all focused on the admittedly impressive autofisting going on on stage. Even the security guards were watching his ex obsession contort herself on the stage. 

He spotted his beloved sitting next to the Headteacher of all people. He swallowed down  jealousy and refocused. Now came the tricky part after all. Even for the Stacey he’d never considered implanting a tracking device, but now it felt necessary. 

He couldn’t risk his precious Kanona ever being able to get away from him. He readied his syringe and crawled on the disgusting ground to evade attention. He made it to his beloved's ankle, the needle tip was small enough that he wouldn’t feel it, but he wished he could sanitize the area before sticking him. He plunged it quickly and efficiently, as he’d predicted it went unnoticed. 

While he was under their table he decided to eavesdrop and tie Leighton’ shoes together. 

“Ugh, I tried to get her to do private photoshoots for me, but she laughed and said she could use the publicity.” He was so close to his beloved, but he didn’t dare touch him. He did sniff him though. 

“Psh, pay her enough and she’ll do anything. If you can’t even afford one of Bailey’s whores you really are worthless. This towns so fucked who doesn’t have a sextape floating around at this point? Once your students figure that out, you’ll be powerless. We’d have to call you Failton.” He was glad his beloved didn’t seem to care for the Headteacher even if they were sitting together.

“Shut up slut, what’ll you do when people realize they’re paying for something this town provides for free?”

“Convenience fee darling, besides my services satisfy certain tastes. The underground has a queue after all.” His beloved’s voice took on a layered tone. These underground dealings were likely what had struck fear in the Chad and Stacey’s heart. Well he’d just have to purify his darling’s soul. He took one last sniff before sneaking away. 

He had the rest of his preparations to make after all. Back at home he prepared his surveillance room. He set up the different channels for his camera feeds and then their complimentary audio channels. He had several screens dedicated to showing the feeds and then a central screen that could enlarge a feed and play the audio. 

He watched his beloved for a while before heading to bed. Now that the preliminary preparations were complete he’d be able to relax. Continue to go to school and keep his parents and society satisfied. 

Soon he’d have his precious Kanona and she’d never want to ever be apart from him. Ever.

___

When some creep had talked a big game about winning him over he hadn’t really put much stock in it. He knew he was hot, and he used it to his advantage. So when the guy popped up a week later with the most expensive bottle of wine he’d ever seen he almost didn’t know how to react.

He recovered quickly enough to smile and twirl his hair on a finger. He assumed  he’d raided some cellar and had no idea what he actually had in his hands. 

“Aw, thanks cutie.” He cooed, grabbing the bottle. He batted his eyes and asked his name.

“Ky... Kylar.” Even a stutter, this was going to be too easy. He’d always been partial to keeping a sugar daddy around, though it had been a long time since he’d had a consummate sugar daddy. Nevertheless, his old charms came flooding back like muscle memory.

“Kylar… hmm what a cute name.” Kylar’s whole face turned red, he bit back a laugh. 

“Maybe you can satisfy my tastes after all.” He smiled before strutting away from the guy. He could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he walked away. 

Usually he would drink in his office, but he wanted to savor this in private. And be sure it wasn’t tampered with.

He grabbed his fanciest wine glass and a corkscrew then settled onto his bed. The seal was still perfectly intact, he smiled. 

Aged one hundred years, he couldn’t wait. Alone he was free to dress up and fantasize a bit. 

He slipped into a lace negligee and posed in front of the mirror.

“Honey you’ve still got it.” He hadn’t even had to give anything up for the wine bottle, his new diet must be working better than he’d thought. He inspected his body carefully, there were no imperfections that he could see. He put on a jewelry set, now he looked perfect. 

He laid down on his bed and uncorked his wine bottle. It smelled heavenly, he poured himself a glass and flicked it around with his wrist. He sipped and moaned. The bottle really didn’t disappoint, it was smooth and strong.

He drank almost half the bottle and found himself asleep. In the following weeks Kylar got him luxury perfumes and soaps. He quickly swapped them into his daily routine. His skin and hair had never been so soft. 

He’d never had a paypig before but he was loving it. Kylar’s weekly visits soon came to be his favorite day of the week. 

A few months into their relationship Kylar came up to him holding some jewelry boxes. He couldn’t wait to see how they topped the gifts he’d already received. 

“Ooh, come to my office sweetie.” He practically dragged him to his sofa. 

“What’d you get me this week?” He purred. Kylar stuttered but finally managed to say jewelry. Eagerly, he grabbed the biggest case first. 

It was a genuine pearl necklace. He could feel his jaw drop a bit, this was the most expensive jewelry he’d ever held in his hands. It practically shone in the box.

His hands shook as he put the necklace on. Then he reached out for the next box. Pearl and opal earrings, he put them on eagerly. This matching set must look gorgeous. He could see the shine reflecting from them.

It made his own jewelry look like mere trinkets in comparison. 

“One more.” Kyar said and opened up a ring box. A lustrous opal ring surrounded by small pearls. It was gorgeous. He took off the rings he already had on and put it on his ring finger. He stared at it, mesmerized by its beauty.

“I got the rings and earrings custom made, though they can’t compare to your beauty.” 

“Aw, you're such a smooth talker.” He waited for the shoe to drop, surely even a virgin wouldn’t give such expensive jewelry for nothing in exchange. 

“Don’t worry my love, these are just gifts from me to you. I can wait-” He muttered something under his breath and before he could blink Kylar was gone. How flattering, he hadn’t thought he could still get people to fall in love with him with just a look. 

He rushed into his room to dress to match his new jewelry. He slipped on the light blue suit jacket Kylar had gotten tailor made for him. Then gazed at his reflection in the mirror. 

He wasted almost half an hour enraptured with the jewelry. Such lustrous gems weren’t often seen by commoners. He needed to keep himself in Kylar’s good graces. He giggled to himself wondering how Kylar would top this. He hadn’t imagined that the brat was anything more than just a thief. 

He finished picking out the luxury outfit that matched his new jewelry, he wondered how long had Kylar been planning out these gifts for them to match perfectly. With a spritz of the cologne he’d been gifted, he finally stepped out of his room. 

All eyes were on him, as they should be. He could taste the jealousy in the air. He smiled and called his driver. There were some “independent contractors” he wanted to get under his control today. When the limo pulled up he slid into his seat.

“Take me to the cafe and after that the pub.” He was craving pancakes, but he was likely going to get a fruit salad. Then shakedown some floozies and he could call it a day.  Five minutes into the ride his eyes got heavy and he fell asleep. 

When he woke up his head was pounding. There was something heavy around his neck, he sat up slowly. He kept blinking trying to refocus his eyes. He felt around his neck and found a collar that was attached to a metal chain. He tried to get it off, but it wouldn’t budge. Who would dare kidnap him! He shook with rage as he tried to free himself. 

There were no weak points on the chain. It was better than the restraints he used in the underground. He took in the room. He was on a king sized bed and the blankets were soft enough. There was a dresser with a mirror attached. He looked at himself. 

His hair was a mess but he looked normal enough. He still had his ring and earrings on, but the necklace had been replaced with the collar. He got off the bed. To his surprise the chain could extend from the wall. He walked towards one of the doors in the room and the chain didn’t stop him. He opened the door and found a bathroom. It was already prepared with toiletries and cosmetics. 

Was this another underground ring trying to show off their power? But there was no way his bodyguards wouldn’t have noticed. He walked out the bathroom to the next door and tried it. 

He’d expected it to be locked but it opened out to a hallway. He tried to step out of the room, but the chain didn’t extend anymore. He tried to force it and suddenly the chain flew back into the wall, yanking him on the bed by the neck. He coughed and sputtered trying to regain his breath. 

He tried to feel for a weak point on the collar, but couldn’t find it. He pressed on the usual failure points, but nothing worked.  He heard a rustling coming from the hallway, he prepared himself for a confrontation. But to his shock it was Kylar. 

“My precious Kanona-chan, finally I have you all to myself. It’s been so hard waiting, but tonight we can finally consummate our love.” Kylar’s face was split into a monstrous grin. 

“What the fuck are you talking about!?” He got up ready to beat the shit out of the little motherfucker, but an electrical jolt from the collar brought him to his knees. 

“Oh my love, don’t be like that. I don’t want to have to punish you. Tonight we’ll have so much fun. I have your outfit for tonight. You already have the ring.” Kylar paused to giggle to himself. This guy was insane, he backed up into the bed. 

“You can’t keep me here, you… you psycho.” He spat. He screamed when the collar jolted him again. He collapsed onto the bed. Kylar walked up to him and pet his hair.

“Oh darling, don’t worry no one will find us here. So put this on. I don’t want you to get punished again.” He spoke like he wasn’t the one hurting him and dropped a brown parcel onto the bed. 

“I’ll give you some privacy to get changed, but it’s not like I haven’t seen it before. And make sure you put everything on. If anything’s missing you might have to get punished.” Kylar stalked out of the room. He pressed a hand to his chest, his heart was actually racing. He knew he was angry, but could it be that he was scared too?

With shaking hands he reached for the package. He opened it and found a white short ball gown. He stripped and put it on numbly. It didn’t even cover his butt. He’d done the same to countless whores, but he’d never expected to be on the receiving end. There wasn’t even underwear in the bag, though there was a white leg garter. He slipped it on. 

He looked in the mirror. He looked like some kind of perverse bride, he’d had girls do a few shows on the concept but it was a little too cliche for his tastes. It didn’t take long for Kylar to stumble back in, this time wearing an ill fitting suit. 

“My beautiful bride, this will be a night we remember for the rest of our lives. Tomorrow we’ll dance, but tonight we’ll have some fun. Just like in the first volume of Isshō tsudzuku no ni jūbun'na hanshoku.” Kylar pushed him onto the bed. He had no idea what he was raving about, when he tried to struggle he was shocked again. He went limp on the bed. 

“First, the garter.” He watched Kylar go down to his thigh. The bastard mouthed at it, kissing his leg sloppily. Before finally grabbing it with his teeth and pulling it down. Once he finished that he jumped up and pressed a kiss to his mouth, it tasted overwhelmingly of mint. 

“I’d follow the manga to a t, but I wouldn’t want it to hurt. Heheeheehe, I learned that the hard way. No, my darling there’s no pain play till volume three. Today’s our simple wedding night.” Just how long did this freak plan on keeping him here. 

“Listen… I’ll let you get one freebie. Just let me go after ok. Please Kylar, there won’t be any consequences if you do.” His voice sweet as pie, he batted his eyes. 

“You want this just as much as I do my love? Oh my darling I’ll never let you go!” This motherfucker wasn’t listening at all. Kylar pinned him on his back and climbed up his body till he could kiss him. Kylar forced his tongue into his mouth. Kylar kept his eyes open staring directly at him while he kissed him. Eventually he just closed his eyes to escape his gaze, letting Kylar do what he wanted. 

Green eyes weren’t a rarity in this town, but something about Kylar’s eyes actually made him feel nervous. Kylar didn’t let up for air, he felt his eyes start to water. He had no choice but to bite down on Kylar’s tongue to try and get him to let up. Of course the collar shocked the hell out of him, but at least Kylar pulled back. He gasped for air, still laying on his back. 

“Oh my dear Kanona-chan, if you wanted to skip to consummation you should have just said that. You know I could kiss you forever.” Kylar was completely wrapped up in his own little fantasy world. He didn’t even respond. Just stared at the ceiling, willing it to be over with already.

He doubted a shrimp like Kylar could be packing much, or have stamina. That’s what he told himself as awkward fingers breached him. At least the dude knew to use lube.

He still felt pretty limber from the monthly farm orgy, so at least he had that going for him. Though small as Kylar’s hands were he could probably double fist him and he still wouldn’t feel it. He wasn’t particularly skilled either. If he told himself it was just a pity fuck that might make it more bearable. 

Despite the crushing blow to his pride, so far things had been pretty vanilla. So really he just needed to focus on escaping. Or cajole the creep into taking the collar off. He didn’t bother watching Kylar put it in. Maybe if he seemed disinterested Kylar would get a reality check.

Thus he was wholly unprepared for the biggest cock he’d ever taken to get rammed into him. He felt the wind get pushed out of him, even Remy’s stupid bulls weren’t that big. He tried smacking the idiot as he tried to blink the tears out of his eyes. 

“What the fu- mmph” somehow the whelp was able to reach up and kiss him. Effectively muffling his complaints. He tried biting down on Kylar but that only seemed to inspire him. He’d never felt anything like this before. Maybe Remy could enjoy a battering ram on his prostate, he preferred his lovers to be more sensual. He almost choked on the spit pooling in his mouth. Finally Kylar let up so he could breathe. He gasped and sucked air in, body bouncing from the force of Kylar’s thrusts. 

“You bastard! I’ll sell you to the farm for this! Mmph-!” The hands that had been clawed around his waist wrapped around his neck in a death grip. He tried to claw them off. Kylar looked mad as he humped into him. 

“You love this , you love this, you love this…” He kept repeating it. He tried to loosen Kylar’s grip, but he was electrocuted. His body spasmed as Kylar kept fucking him. His body started feeling tingling as black spots started appearing in his vision. In a way the novelty was thrilling. 

He never let anyone be so rough with him. None of his playmates ever so much as slapped his ass. As he started losing consciousness, his eyes started rolling back. He felt his arms falling limp at his sides as the world went black. When he woke up, he gasped. 

His body tingled. He’d never felt anything like this, he felt his own dick was hard. Another hard jab to his prostate, he gasped gently. He felt hypersensitive now, his mind was foggy. He hadn’t realized when it started to feel good. He moaned quietly. Kylar suddenly stilled. 

“Oh my dear Kanona! I knew you would love this too! If it’s better for you, you can call me daddy.” Kylar said pressing frenzied kisses around his chest before starting to thrust into him wildly. He bounced with each thrust. The shrimp had a surprising amount of core strength. Kylar’s sweat dripped onto him. 

“I’m gonna breed you now, but don’t worry you won’t get pregnant until volume 6.” He shivered, feeling his own orgasm finally force its way out. Finally Kylar’s hips stuttered before he ground into him and collapsed onto him. He couldn’t believe he’d passed out on top of him. And he was still inside. Ugh… at least he didn’t have to deal with the cum dripping out for now. Kylar was almost endearing, cuddling into him. He shook his head. He needed to focus on escaping. But the afterglow got to him too and he fell asleep.

[ddemonseonghwa]

Red [10:58 P.M.]

Tattoo Artist/Piercer! Changbin x Black Pierced/Tatted! Female Reader

I ✨think✨ Changbin’s favorite color is red, so that’s where this comes from. Pierced and tatted Changbin agenda btw (tongue, eyebrow, nose, lip).

Day Four: Red ♥️🥰

Underworldnet Season of Love Event ♥️

CW// smut ish lol

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

“B-baby? Wh-what’s this?” He asked. He looked down at the woman on his bed, admiring everything he saw.

Rin was dressed in red lingerie, the set Changbin had been eyeing for Rin. The top was hollowed out on the breasts but there was a bow, covering her nipples effectively. The panties had red bows on the hips while there was a harness around her abdomen. It tied in the back into another bow while the front was held together with a heart ring. There were chains that hung down from the harness and wrapped around her thighs. The left chain that wrapped around her left thigh had a heart ring on it, which went perfectly with her thigh tattoo. Paired with all the other tattoos and piercings she had— all of which Changbin did on her— it was a heavenly sight to see. To top it off, she had on red makeup to match the red of the lingerie. Truly, Rin was irresistible.

Rin moved her braids behind her and looked up at him. “Thought I’d surprise you tonight for when you got home from the studio.” She said, smiling gently and playfully squeezing her tits to tempt him and slightly flashing the small flower tattoo between her tits that he did for her birthday last year. Her fingers ran down her body, playing with the nipple piercings underneath the lingerie and the bellybutton piercing on the top and bottom. All three were done by Changbin and decorated with red barbells.

She could see the erection that was fighting to stay in his pants. “You look like you need to get some frustration out, Binnie.” She teased, slowly spreading her legs. Rin ran her hand along the black lace garter tattoo, the one Changbin had done on her four months ago.

“I-I had to do a tattoo for s-six hours.” He stuttered. He looked her up and down, admiring the sternum tattoo he did for her last summer. Wanting to toy with him some more, she slowly licked her lips, flicking the tongue piercing she got last Halloween. Changbin wanted to be the one to pierce her tongue, so she let him. The balls on her piercing were even his favorite color— red.

The red lingerie, the red makeup, the red piercing jewelry, plus all the ink on her skin that he did for her, it was all making him dizzy with lust. She got up and crept on her knees to the side of the bed to get to him. She reached out and touched him with her short red stiletto nails, running them along his clothed chest. “Sounds stressful, baby…. Why don’t you let me help you relax?” She leaned in to kiss his neck and giggled seductively when she felt his hand ease onto her ass, right over the red lipstick mark tattoo he did on her left ass cheek for fun years ago.

“Fuck, princess, I just might.” He squeezed her ass and made her huff. “I need you so bad, Binnie. I’m about to ruin this lingerie because I missed you so much.” She whispered as she bit his ear softly. She pulled him close to kiss his neck, leaving red lipstick prints on his skin. His eyes fluttered closed, lashes kissing his cheeks for a moment. That’s when he realized what he needed.

Just when Rin pulled away, she watched as Changbin pulled off his tight black shirt and threw it somewhere in their shared room. His back tattoos and his sleeve tattoos were exposed, especially the black raven tattoo right above his abs, making Rin ruin the panties even more. Changbin smirked as he pressed Rin onto her back on the bed and pushed the panties to the side. He bit his lip as he eyed her pussy. “Been daydreaming about this pussy all day. Had to take two breaks and jerk off to keep myself sane.” He commented, kissing her inner thighs and the ink he did on her. “You’re addicted to me at this point.” She giggled. Changbin licked a stripe up her pussy and kissed her clit, making her gasp in pleasure as she laced her fingers into his hair.

“Oh, princess, I’m never ashamed to admit you have me whipped for you.”

[darchildre]

A Costume Piece, part 1

In which Raffles and Bunny plan to steal some purple diamonds and Bunny learns more about the art and craft of burglary.

Thing 1:

...never had I seen him so excited before. Had he been following Rosenthall's example? [ie, drinking] His coming to my rooms at midnight, merely to tell me about his dinner, was in itself enough to excuse a suspicion which was certainly at variance with my knowledge of A. J. Raffles.

Bunny. My sweet boy. There are two possibilities for why Raffles is in your rooms at midnight, both of them are criminal, and only one of them can E W Hornung write about explicitly.

(I should cut Bunny some slack here - this is only his second entry into crime qua burglary, after all.)

And Raffles leaned towards me with a sly, slow smile that made the hidden meaning of his visit only too plain to me at last.

Okay, no, I can see why Bunny is confused. He hasn't yet realized that stealing jewelry from people is one of Raffles' biggest kinks.

Thing 2: Bunny wrote an article about the jewel robbery that he himself helped commit, oh my god, amazing. I missed that detail on my last read through and now all I want is an au where Bunny becomes an established crime reporter, like Peter Parker taking pictures of Spider-man.

Thing 3:

"My dear fellow, I would rob St. Paul's Cathedral if I could, but I could no more scoop a till when the shopwalker wasn't looking than I could bag the apples out of an old woman's basket. Even that little business last month was a sordid affair, but it was necessary, and I think its strategy redeemed it to some extent. Now there's some credit, and more sport, in going where they boast they're on their guard against you. The Bank of England, for example, is the ideal crib; but that would need half a dozen of us with years to give to the job; and meanwhile Reuben Rosenthall is high enough game for you and me. We know he's armed. We know how Billy Purvis can fight.It'll be no soft thing, I grant you. But what of that, my good Bunny—what of that? A man's reach must exceed his grasp, dear boy, or what the dickens is a heaven for?" "I would rather we didn't exceed ours just yet," I answered laughing, for his spirit was irresistible, and the plan was growing upon me, despite my qualms.

A) This whole speech and the bit before it where Raffles talks about himself as an artist is adorable and I love it and I love him so much. He's so excited and so clearly deliberately being charming and showing off to appeal to Bunny and it's so cute.

B) And it works - Bunny also clearly thinks he is adorable and and charming and ridiculous. It's sad that he loses his enthusiasm as soon as Raffles leaves - Bunny would be having a lot more fun all 'round if he didn't think so much.

Thing 4:

With all his charming frankness, there was in Raffles a vein of capricious reserve which was perceptible enough to be very irritating. He had the instinctive secretiveness of the inveterate criminal.

This is going to be Bunny's chief complaint about Raffles for the rest of time. There are lots of potential reasons for it: Bunny is right and Raffles doesn't trust him fully (likely); Raffles is a control freak who needs to be in charge of all the details of their crimes (yuuup); Raffles likes impressing and surprising Bunny more than basically anything else in the world (absolute truth); etc. In the specific case wherein Raffles doesn't tell Bunny the details of how he disposed of the results of their first robbery, I wonder if there's a desire to keep Bunny away from the grubbier aspects of what they're doing, like fencing things and interacting with other criminals, so as not to scare him off (or make Raffles seem grubby through the interaction). Bunny's only along for the "fun" parts of the robbery - this may also be part of not wanting him to be part of casing Rosenthall's house, which is probably mostly quite boring. (But also the control freak thing.)

Of course, this always backfires, because Bunny doesn't know the reasons why he shouldn't involve himself. Oh my god, just have an actual conversation!

Thing 5: Disguises! Oh how I love the goofy disguises! I especially love the little detail of Raffles "he who would only smoke one brand of cigarette!" switching tobaccos for verisimilitude.

[thetragicallynerdy]

Hi, I'm here from the tealoranges tag! Fic title meme: Are You Going to Scarborough Fair?

Alright alright, I finally had the brains to think about this and write something! (For those who haven't heard of it, this meme is that you send me a fic title, and I sketch out the fic I think would match it. I am not accepting further prompts for this meme at this time.)

I know that this one would go really nicely as a like, farmers market au, but hear me out: post-war au and farmer’s market au. Because the canticle aspect of Simon & Garfunkle’s version of Scarborough Fair always, always makes me think about war (because, y’know, it’s about war). But, because it’s Jim and Olu, and I really wouldn’t ever write an actual war type fic, lets go with “Canon time - Jim, returning from their holy mission, and Oluwande, who sells his wares at the market.”

When I started typing this I was going to say it was more vibes than plot (the Vibes being an exhausted Jim who’s killed a whole lot of men and then returned home to find that they’re still not at peace, and then they meet Oluwande) but now there’s like 1000+ words of plot so here u go:

Jim never made it to Nassau as their first stop in their mission. They don’t meet Oluwande, and they instead spend ten-fifteen years tracking down every last member of the Siete Gallos. Alfeo de la Vaca is not their first. He’s closer to their last, which is the main reason that they keep at it so long – a) there is no one to encourage them to stop, and b) they haven’t killed the one that matters yet.

Somewhere along the way, they have exactly one run in with Blackbeard and Stede, who we can presume are still doing their romance off to the side. They see a handsome Black man with a teal earring on the crew who catches their eye – but then they forget about him.

Oluwande, meanwhile, got out of Spanish Jackie’s for other reasons, about the same time as he would’ve in canon. He finds Stede, and has a rather successful career in piracy before he finally settles down and buys a home. He learns how to make jewelry, and sells it. Tiny trinkets, that sort of thing, to keep his hands busy. For some reason, he really liked St. Augustine the last time they were there. He settles down.

Jim finally finishes their hit list. They return to St. Augustine, scarred and hardened and hoping to find some semblance of peace, because all they feel is a hollowness in their chest and a bone-deep weariness. They come home to a home that’s still empty and ruined, overgrown after decades of neglect.

Whether or not Nana is still alive is up to you. If she is, her exuberance over Jim being done their mission grates against the disenchantment they’re feeling. If she’s not, there’s a point of grief over ‘she was the one I was doing this for, and she’s not even here to see it.’

Either way – Jim is not doing great. They try and fix up the farm, but mainly fix up the house enough to live in, and wallow. The Beautiful Life they were promised afterwards hasn’t happened, and everything feels like dust. Very ‘returning from war and finding yourself at odds with the world’ type vibes.

But then they wander into the market one morning when they’re coming in to, I dunno, buy food, and they happen across a tiny stall, run by a beautiful man with a teal earring. He sells jewelry, and it feels so frivolous, so unnecessary, but they can’t help but stop and look at it. Jewelery isn’t even their thing, but they can’t help but reach out and touch the intricate little earrings.

Oluwande recognizes them. And, in true Oluwande fashion, blurts out “holy shit, I know you.” This is not immediately a concern. Most people in town know them, by rumour at the very least, of the Jimenez child who lived. It’s a small place. However, then he says “we met on uh – The Gentleman Pirate’s ship, you killed that guy –“ and Jim gets very defensive very fast. And maybe runs away a little, wondering if they need to just pack up and go because they don’t really want people recognizing them for all the blood they’ve spilled.

(And then they remember the handsome man with the teal earring, and kick themself a little for not being able to place him immediately. He's still just as handsome, all these years later.)

Later that day Oluwande shows up at their door, with an apology on his lips and a small earring in his hand. “Didn’t mean to scare you off,” he says sheepishly. “I just got excited. Not many people here that know what I used to do.”

Jim reluctantly lets him in, and offers him a drink. They talk. Or, Oluwande talks, and Jim listens.

It’s not love at first meeting. But so many people in town avoid talking to Jim, and he doesn’t seem to care about the blood they’ve spilled. Hell, he was a pirate. He’s spilled just as much. So a tentative friendship is born.

They start seeking him out. Wandering to the market just to talk and pretend to browse his wares. They keep the earring he gave them, but their ears aren’t pierced, so they don’t do anything with it. They start bringing small food treats that they pick up at the market, so they have an excuse to sit and share it. Oluwande brightens every time they show up. He starts having tea or something else to drink ready every time, to share with the food.

Jim keeps trying to fix up the farm. But every time they do it just feels pointless, and makes them sad. They don’t really need a job for the money, but they’re starting to get restless, like they need something to do.

They take up whittling instead. It’s hard, and they cut themself more than they have since they first learned how to handle knives. Their first clumsy attempt at a bird gets given to Oluwande. So does their second, their third. A few more become toys, given to the family down the road. It takes time, but they get good.

“You should let me sell these,” Oluwande muses, running fingers over an intricate crocodile. “They’re really good.”

Jim shrugs. “I don’t really need the money.”

He raises an eyebrow and nods at his jewelry. “Neither do I. Why do you think they’re so cheap?”

Jim lets Oluwande sell their carvings. It’s a good partnership.

Eventually they kiss him. Of course they do. He’s handsome and sweet and the only person who makes them feel like a person again, and not the assassin they’ve become. The only person who teases them about their hat and their long coat and tells them they’re not as scary as they think they are.

And it’s good. It’s so good, this little romance. Easy, in a way very few things in their life have been.

A few weeks, maybe months after they add romance to the mix, Jim admits, late one evening, how much they hate living at the farm. How they still think about leaving, all the time.

“Could move in with me,” Oluwande whispers, voice just audible from where Jim is plastered to his back. “I’ve got the space.”

Jim leaves the next morning and tells him they need to think about it, promising they’re not running away, that they just need time to think. They go, and sit on their farm, and then disappear into the woods like they did as a child. When they come back two days later, it still feels just as empty and barren and broken as it did when they first set foot back in St. Augustine, just as lost as it did when they were a child. The healing they were hoping for is happening, but it’s not happening on this farm.

So they pack up all of their things (there aren’t many), and walk to the village. The sun is just setting, and there’s a candle already burning in Oluwande’s window. There’s no hesitation before they knock.

Oluwande opens the door, and sees them, and their bag. He smiles and holds the door open wider.

“Welcome home.”

That’s it! Look I will never actually write this, so if anyone ever wants to write the thing, have at! (Just give me credit for the idea, and please for the love of god send it to me so I can read it XD)

Anyway thanks for the prompt anon, this was fun!! Sorry it took me a while XD

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 4, Chapter 58″

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

"The chains bind my feet But they cannot bind my soul Which is free to live, to love and to choose I will claim victory Throughout suffering and woes You will see what we give of us to you…"

Young Disciples – "Freedom Suite"

The hours before dawn were always quiet for Juvay.

As some rested in full slumber huddled under blankets cocooned with soft dreams, there were others who adorned themselves for merriment to greet the sun. Yani was one of those people.

With Disa by her side putting on make-up, a flurry of activity behind them grew, the anticipation swelling in her belly to dance and cut loose. Sips of rum were passed among the women and there was no need to hide it from righteous aunties or bible-thumping parents… no… not for them. They were in Yani's home, grown, and free to drink and smoke at three in the morning.

Yani was going to throw much ass in a circle. Wind up her waist dressed like a Wakandan and St. Thomas Princess. The carnival costume adorning her body was decadent but still full of cultivated elegance with royal purple and regal gold plumes that ran down her back, creating two giant wings. She dyed her hair platinum again and glued crystal jewels all over her face. Twyla and Anika dusted gold flakes all over her skin, too. Her middle sister Felice helped refasten her sequined purple top that revealed flashes of her breasts amid glass-beaded necklaces draped around her neck. She forewent a thong bottom, but the tiny, skin-tight gold silky mini shorts hid nothing of her blessed rump.

Disa stepped from the mirror to look at her.

"Wow. Stunning," Disa said.

Since it was her first carnival experience there, Disa chose a more modest means of dress, opting to sport an aquamarine fishnet catsuit with fringe. Cut-off shorts covered her backside, but she tied a pink gossamer scarf around her breasts to decorate the bikini top that kept everything held high. She scooped her hair into a high pigtail where she glued costume jewelry all across the front.

Twyla helped Marisol decorate her face with squiggly lines and other shapes. Yani had encouraged her to bring one of her Sao Paulo costumes to wear, but Marisol wanted to blend into the crowd and enjoy a carnival celebration where she didn't have to perform or be the center of attention. Cute booty shorts and a t-shirt were all she wanted to go in. Her legs and hips were already moving fast to the music they played to pump them up. Three more of Yani's cousins prepared with them, and they passed a joint around. Yani smoked a bit and turned around to look at her ass cheeks. She clapped them and the others nodded with approval. Cupping her breasts, she checked the final ensemble and was pleased.

"Queen tings!" Twyla shouted, slipping a blunt between her gold-painted lips.

They took pictures, posing seductively for cameras and kimoyo beads. Yani passed her joint to Disa, and she puffed and passed it on to Marisol, getting a good look at her own backside in a standing mirror.

"Sexy!" Yani said, slapping Disa's backside playfully.

"You get older and things droop a bit," Disa said, wiggling her waist. "I could never get my butt to do that. One booty cheek will twitch, but I can't get the syncopation down like you and Marisol."

Twyla adjusted her feathered crown, and Yani helped make sure her costume was secured in all the right places. Yellow and orange were her colors, and Twyla's regalia matched the pageantry of Yani's. They both wanted to go extra fancy knowing that there would probably be a long time before they could do Juvay again all together. Returning to Wakanda weighed heavily on all of their minds.

The children spoke to Erik the night before. He was still in silent mode, but their babies didn't care, chatting off his ear. Yani never watched him when they spoke to their father privately on their kimoyos. But she'd ask about how he looked.

"He looks like Baba," Riki would say every time, annoyed by the question.

Sydette was more thoughtful.

"It's Baba, but his face is different. He wears his hair up and he has a nose ring now," Sydette said.

"Nose ring?"

Sydette drew a picture of a hoop nose septum ring.

"His beard has beads in it and his eyes are strange."

"Strange how?" Yani pushed.

Sydette shrugged, becoming uncomfortable with Yan's prodding.

"Strange bad?" Yani said.

"No. I don't know how to say it, Mama. It's like… he's new?"

"What did he tell you?" Yani asked.

Erik typed responses to them so the children could know his thoughts.

"He said he is fine and can't wait to see us."

Yani fixated on the word new. Yes, things would be new for all of them. She could feel a shift of change all around the entire family. She and Disa had put the finishing touches on Yani's presentation and there was a working mock-up for the birthing centers planned. Disa worked on her speech pacing with all of her experience talking on panels and moderating important conversations. The only problem Yani had with speaking was that she would get so excited about the work that she'd revert to patois mid-sentence, making Disa laugh with all of her enthusiasm.

"You're painting a picture," Disa said. "Talk to them like you used to speak to people on your Eco-Tours. Your passion will guide you. You're so cute when you fangirl about your own shit! This is just another type of performance, like when you sing in front of people. Your personality comes alive and you captivate people. You will do the same thing when you face the consortium."

The children slept as the women slipped out of the compound in two SUVs driven by Doras. Their Wakanda security wore civilian clothing to blend in with the crowd and left their spears behind. Vibranium shields would protect them all. Yani wanted to leave them behind, but T'Challa insisted that the Doras be there with them. Her fear was that the Doras would be shocked at all the carrying-on she was going to take part in. All the Dora Milaje with them seemed to enjoy their duties on the island.

They found parking reserved for them by Twyla's old job in a strip mall, and they strolled with the Doras.

"Yani! Yani!"

Several people along the way recognized her, and the Doras grew nervous at how comfortable Yani was letting people touch her. Juvay sound machines on flatbed trucks and other vehicles cranked up the music, and Marisol started gyrating and swinging her hair around the moment the sounds struck her chest. CeCe passed around personalized Juvay cups and the liquor flowed. Anika wasted no time turning up with her hands in the air, throwing her ass back on a sexy reveler with a slender build and a taut six-pack. The nice thing about having large wings on her back was that it made people give Yani room, and she danced steps that her cousins followed in formation. Marisol easily blended in with them, shaking hips, jiggling backsides, and shimmying down the street.

A vast crowd surged near Yani as word zipped through the crowds that the Black Mermaid had returned with Kendall. Rumors had swirled for years about Yani marrying a rich man and living a quiet wealthy life in a foreign. No one knew it was Wakanda because she forbid the family to reveal her wealth and status.

The dark hills were shiny with twinkling lights, and Yani beckoned the Doras to relax and dance, too. But they walked along with the spectators. The first rays of light changed the color of the sky from black to purple to blue by the time Yani met up with Kendall on the elaborate flatbed truck that housed his DJ and entourage. Soca made the people bounce wildly, and some began throwing colored paint already. Disa's eyes became enormous when a glob of purple powder smacked her on the side of the head and burst into a cloud of beautiful color all over her outfit. Yani laughed and shook her hips. Kendall's vehicle pumped out the sounds people wanted to hear, and Yani took it upon herself to lead a proper procession. Like a queen, she shook her body to the sensual rhythms, and the others followed as if they had choreographed a whole routine. They were all in sync and stopped along the way to let others rock it out with them. Marisol cut up then, bringing Brazil to the island, and Yani wished her new cousin had dressed up like the pictures she saw in Dante's photo album so the crowd could see the queendom within her. A priestess danced among them and Yani wanted them to know that.

Disa danced with Twyla until she became out of breath and lingered alongside the group to watch and drink water. Anika stayed with her and Yani loved seeing the woman laugh and have a good time in her home.

The DJ cranked up Kendall's most recent tunes, and the revelers went wild having a hometown favorite return and celebrate with them. Her cousin rapped on a mic and pointed out people as Yani twirled and kicked up her feet.

"We got a new one for ya!" Kendall shouted. "Where is Disa… Disa! Come here!"

Disa waded through the crowd and Kendall helped her get onto the vehicle with Twyla and Marisol behind her.

"This here is my cousin, and she produced this track in one day! An incredible talent. This mi other cuz from Brazil and she did her thing too, with Twyla here, and Queen Yani down there. Yes! We see yuh Black Mermaid. Run that track, Capa Don!" Kendall shouted at the DJ.

Remixed, the song was brighter and bass heavy. Kendall rapped along to his own vocals as the women bounced next to him. Yani pranced and shook her wings, listening to her voice sing about her own physical gifts. She jiggled her heavy ass and several men tried to rub up on her with their groins, but the Dora Milaje blocked them along with her sisters and cousins, who created a physical dancing barrier around her. She followed alongside the truck bed, leading a boisterous band of dancers, taking in her culture through sight, sound, the surrounding odors, and the feel of the air kissing the warm brown skin revealed all over her costume. Standing still, she closed her eyes and let the island music transport her to a peaceful place inside her homecoming before bursting with more energy and bounding down the packed road again.

On and on she danced and her family moved with her, cheering her to keep moving. Glancing behind, she witnessed Disa caught up in the music's rapture, holding hands with Twyla and Marisol. Yani bumped hips with her and they linked arms strutting to soca and shouting to passersby, "Fete it up!"

"Oh girl, I think I have cramps in my feet from dancing so much!" Disa shouted.

"No excuse!" Marisol yelled, grabbing Disa's arm and swinging her back into action.

Yani caught her breath by the time they met up with all her aunties, Dante, and the children hours later to watch the full carnival parade. She jumped back into the street when Kendall rolled back around again with another musical performer to entertain the throngs of fans. Sydette, Riki, and Joba skipped around in little feathered costumes with crowns matching Yani's colors. Joba's eyes were so huge when she peered up at Yani in all of her flamboyance.

"See me, Sunshine?" Yani called to her before picking Joba up and dancing with her on her hip.

The spectacle of so many people parading past them soon wore on the little girl's capacity to take in any more stimuli from strangers, and Yani was ready for them all to return to the compound for a huge spread of brunch. There would be more parties later, including one in her house with family. Drenched in sweat and colorful paints, the Doras led them all to their SUVs, stopping for ice cone treats before riding on. Exhausted, Yani stared out of the front passenger window and wished for more good times like that in the future.

Disa rubbed her swollen belly and pushed away from the table to put away her plate of food. There was too much food, but Leona insisted they feed well to soak up all the liquor they consumed.

Joba and the other children ran around the compound freely and there was no need to check on them because so many relatives there watched over them on top of Noxolo staying glued to them. She wandered down to the pool where Yani and Anika were already swimming and talking. Disa plopped down on a lounge chair and her kimoyo lit up. Yani's lips curled into a grin.

"Is it him?" Yani asked.

Disa knew it was Adebiyi's avatar, but she didn't let Yani know that, even though it was obvious by the way she rolled her eyes at them in the pool. She stepped away from the patio and walked down some steps that led to a lower level filled with plants and lovely flowers. Jerome sunbathed out in the open, one eye spying on her. She glimpsed the sea in the distance and headed that way. An indentation in some bushes caught her attention, and she crept closer to them, discovering another path she hadn't seen before. She walked through the bushes and descended into an entirely new section of the property that led to a beautiful cove. Sunlight dappled across the clear water and Disa sat down to admire the tranquility. Her kimoyo lit up again, and she answered it.

"Adebiyi," she said.

He stared at her face, and she touched it, forgetting she was still made up for Juvay. She became self-conscious of her revealing top that he could see from the waist up.

"Should I call you later, Lady Abdullah?"

"Disa, you can call me Disa when we're not in the office," she said.

His need for formality all the time drove her nuts. His hair was tied up with a green headwrap tucked at the nape, and without seeing his salt and pepper hair, Adebiyi could pass for late thirties instead of fifty. They started talking every other day with him giving her updates about the underwater earthquake and the findings for the Phase Two project.

"Disa," he said, as if he were testing the way it rolled on his tongue.

"Anything new?"

"A pod of humpback whales washed ashore yesterday," he said.

"Oh, God."

"We cannot determine if they were thrown off track because of the tsunami that hit Kenya and they grounded themselves on our coast, or if there is something else going on."

"Something else?"

"We detected sonar activity ninety miles off of our coast. Manmade. We are searching for illegal international military exercises. Five of the whales died, but we were able to help the others back to sea."

His face grew tight.

"What else, Adebiyi?" she said.

"We detected another underwater earthquake an hour ago. Not as strong as the others. This one was further out to sea."

"Do you think it's related to the sonar?"

"Maybe."

He tapped his kimoyo and another 3D image floated next to his. Pictures of the whales stranded and the Wakandan military helping to remove them.

"King T'Challa has advised a soft evacuation of our island citizens for safety precautions in case there's more seismic activity," he said.

He sighed, and his eyes darted away.

"I suggested to the king that we halt the Phase Two project indefinitely until we know what is going on. I did not do this to disrespect your authority—"

"No Adebiyi, I understand. It's the smart thing to do," she said, staring at all the whales lying in a dog pile so helpless on the beach.

She swiped the images away.

"I have other work that can take priority now," she said.

"I have an idea for the embassy I would like to share with you. If you are open to that."

Disa stared at him with an incredulous expression. Adebiyi offering her something freely? She became intrigued.

"There is a style of wood carving that hasn't been done in Wakanda for over a hundred years that we have used for meditation temples here. I thought maybe it is something you would like to see."

"Sure, send me holopics."

"I think you should see them in person. Holopics will not give you the full impact. There are three styles I think you will like."

"You want me to come up to the Jabari mountains?"

"When you have time in your schedule."

They were silent together for a few seconds, which soon stretched into an awkward, long silence.

"After the coronation would be best," she said.

"As you wish."

He looked away again as if he were fiddling with something offscreen to keep from staring at her again.

"Well, I hope no more marine animals wash ashore," she said.

She ran a hand over her hair nervously and forgot all the hair baubles she had glued there.

"Just got back from Juvay," she explained.

"Juvay?"

"It's a carnival celebration here. The name is really J'ouvert. It means "daybreak" in French. It's a big ass early morning party, and I danced with thousands of people and my feet hurt!"

He laughed. She watched his face, amazed at the transformation of the hard features becoming soft and quite handsome.

"After the morning breaks, there's a big carnival festival. People here party and drink… watch colorful parades. Throw paint at each other to feel free. It's a lot of fun, but I'm beat," she huffed.

She tapped her kimoyo and sent him a few images of their day with a short video. He watched it with her. The video stopped with Disa holding Joba in her arms.

"Your daughter looks like she had fun."

"Joba did, but it can get sketchy for her being around so many people at once. Her brother Riki helped her out a lot, so we stayed longer than I thought we could when they showed up."

"She dislikes people?" he asked.

"Um… she can be shy… but she is sensitive… gets overstimulated, and it becomes difficult for her."

He nodded in understanding.

"What about you? Do you have children?"

He grinned, and a photo popped up in place of the Juvay pictures.

"A son and a daughter. Din'o and Lali. Twenty and nineteen. My son is an apprentice under me and my daughter is studying to be an herbalist."

His face beamed as he admired his own progeny.

"Beautiful. They both look like you," she said.

"No, no… they get their looks from their mother."

"I would like to meet her when I come to see the structures up there."

He tugged on his red tunic shirt.

"We are not together. She is married to someone else now."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that… just out here assuming stuff—"

"It is fine. Our children flourish and that is all that matters to me."

Silence struck them again.

"You know, we have a celebration in the mountains that is like Juvay," he said.

"Really?"

"It celebrates the sun. Our people wear bright colors and parade around early in the morning, just as the sun rises. We make a delicious palm wine here that will make your hair shiny and thick while you dance!"

Disa touched her pigtail.

"My hair has been thinning a bit with work stress. Perhaps palm wine is what I need," she said.

She caught her words about stress and hoped Adebiyi didn't take it as a jab at his part in it. It was best to change the subject.

"Will you attend Challenge Day at Warrior Falls?" she asked.

"I will. It is rare for the Jabari people to be there. M'Baku was the first to stand there in a long time."

"I'm nervous about it."

"The father of your child will face the people and know how they feel about him."

"How so?"

"If no one faces him, the country is united. If someone does…"

"How do you feel about him?"

"I do not know him the way M'Baku does."

"I'm asking from an outsider's perspective."

Adebiyi hooked into her eyes with a solemn expression.

"I will know more when I see him up close."

"You're just scared to offend me. You think I'll run back to T'Challa and snitch."

Adebiyi tilted his head back, and his eyes narrowed.

"Prince N'Jadaka is bold and fearless. That can be a blessing or a curse. Since he has been accepted into the royal family and given the throne, then I believe King T'Challa and the Council of Elders must have good faith in him. Only time will tell. He may be different once the kingdom is his."

He leaned forward and his face became larger, floating in front of her.

"If he protects Wakanda first and foremost, I will accept his leadership."

She wagged a finger at him.

"That is a perfectly crafted answer to make me feel good," she teased.

He laughed, throwing back his head, and Disa warmed up to the sound of his voice. His eyes crinkled and then he held up his hands to her as a sign of respect.

"Until we speak again, Lady Abdullah… Disa."

His image blinked out and a warm ticklish feeling moved into her stomach. She touched her cheeks, and they were warm. Her lips upturned into a wide smile. Disa hugged her knees and watched the seawater come on shore. Charming. Adebiyi could be charming and pleasant, and she wished he was like that when they first met. Perhaps the invitation to go up the mountain was his way of extending an olive branch.

Noxolo broke her reverie by showing up at the cove.

"Sorry to disturb you, Lady Abdullah. The Royal Talon Fighter is here to take Prince N'Jadaka's grandfather and cousin back to Wakanda right away."

"Has something happened to Erik?"

Disa jumped to her feet and rushed over to Noxolo.

"King T'Challa sent the ship to escort them home. Priests at the temple requested their presence. Prince N'Jadaka is alright. They just need his people."

Disa rushed back up the path to the main house where Marisol and Dante's bags were hastily packed and carried to the Talon Fighter. Yani and Twyla greeted her as Marisol spoke to T'Challa on her kimoyo beads privately in a corner.

"Is he really okay?" Disa asked Yani.

"T'Challa said Erik is in the final stages of his preparation for return. They want Dante and Marisol to assist."

"Assist how?"

Yani shrugged. They waited for Marisol to finish speaking, but Dante pulled them aside. His face looked grim but hopeful.

"From my understanding, JaJa has to integrate aspects of his spiritual upbringing with whatever is happening to him on Mount Bashenga. My mother practiced Hoodoo, and he was raised with that and Candomble. T'Challa said that Bast has requested his roots be intertwined."

"Bast? Like the God? Their Panther God asked for this?" Disa said.

"Yes," Dante said.

"But he is okay? Right?" Yani asked.

"T'Challa said so. I believe him," Dante said.

Marisol ended the call. Her hair was already wrapped up, and she had changed into her white priestess dress. They surrounded her as she exhaled.

"He is well. At this final stage of his preparation, they want Granpop and me to help JaJa merge his belief systems into one body. It is more effective if we are there in person for them to do this. When this is done, he will go straight to Warrior Falls," Marisol said.

"We don't even get to see him before he faces the other tribes?" Yani said.

"It is what JaJa wants. There's more," Marisol said.

Disa squeezed her fingers together, and Yani put her hands on her hips.

"Two tribes have hinted at fighting him," Marisol said.

"Ohmigod," Yani wailed, covering her mouth.

"Which tribes?" Disa said.

"T'Challa wouldn't say. The Council of Elders informed him this morning of the possibility. There might be a third," Marisol said.

"Three on one?" Disa said.

"Not all at the same time. Back-to-back I'm assuming," Marisol said.

"They want to test him," Yani said.

Her voice was hard, and there was fire in her eyes.

"He will kill them all," Disa said.

Hugs were given and Disa watched Dante and Marisol escorted by two Doras onto the Royal Talon Fighter. Standing next to Yani, she held her breath as the ship shimmered with blue light and vanished before their eyes. Water from the ocean flattened as it streaked over it with invisible power. Disa turned to look at Yani.

"Let them all come for him," Yani said with grit in her voice. "He will break them, and then they'll know not to vex him no more!"

Yani stomped down the dock and left Disa standing with Twyla and Leona. The older woman slipped her arm gently around Disa's waist.

"The two of you will have to be strong. Be there for each other," Leona said.

"Yes, Ma'am," Disa said.

Twyla reached for Disa's hand and clasped it as the high tide brought water higher along the dock, making loud splashes as it smacked against the wood pillars.

"There will be trials and tribulations in the future. Yani will go hard for him and I know you will be there to back her up," Leona said.

Leona held her right hand out to sea, following the path the Royal Talon Fighter made across the water.

"Deliver me from my enemies, O God; protect me from those who rise up against me…" Leona prayed.

Disa rested in the wisdom of Dante and Marisol. They were on their way to give Erik the power of his ancestors and the assurances of Ogum. The tribes who dared go against Erik would need Leona's prayers more than he would.

After Leona ended her prayer, Disa headed back to the main house. It was time to mentally pack and prepare for Challenge Day.

Erik would finally be king. If blood needed to be spilled again, so be it. Insha'Allah.

Chapter 59 HERE.

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edit: 12/8/2023

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[gummybugg]

Happy STS! If your OCs had to choose one object each to put into a time capsule, what would it be and why/what would it say about them?

-writeouswriter (sorry, a lil rusty on my questions)

Hello happy sts & thanks for the ask! :')

I haven't seen my Monster friends from IBT in a bit, so that's who we'll direct this Question to.

✨️Silas is a Curious demon visiting the human realm and would probably stow away any/all Gifts Jemmah got them. One example would include the yellow sweater they received. Jemmah means a lot to them :')

✨️Jemmah would act like she doesn't attach sentimental Value to objects but would sneak in some Cute stationary that she admires too much to use. There are just some things he can't let go of.

✨️Clementine would put Way too many things--perhaps perfume and jewelry--in the time capsule, much to Silas' irritation:

Silas: Just pick 3 things, Clementine. You're gonna overflow the capsule!

Clementine: I did pick 3 things, they just so happen to take up the remaining space that we would have more of if you didn't shove all that junk in there!

Silas: A sweater is not junk! It's special!

Clementine would find a way to Slip more items in the capsule by making it Appear as if it can hold more items. He tends to be materialistic in nature.

✨️Bianca would put in little knick-knacks such as food erasers and Keychains she got from traveling. And even photos she took of her friends! Bianca Cherishes her friends more than anything :')

✨️Dex doesn't have Much to his name, but perhaps a flash drive containing his favorite songs would do. He prefers to live in the Moment (aside from the fact that most of his Memories have been Lost).

✨️Indie doesn't feel the need to make a time capsule since they are Eternal.