#mat: i'm actually a boy

[markantonys]

mat is a wondergirl in the same way that james is a derry girl

[confetti-critter]

The night is young and I am free to do whatever my heart desires but unfortunately I have once again found myself trapped in the Time Prison and so I

[atinyladybug-daydreams]

Me coming back to the Creepypasta fandom in 2023 after leaving it in roughly 2018-2019: What the fuck

[heich0e]

shouto inevitably ends up following some of touya's patently terrible advice and almost ruins his relationship, but fuyumi catches wind of what happened and intervenes to help shouto make amends.

she then lectures both of them for no less than three hours about respecting boundaries and how to process and express their emotions.

(she also forces natsuo to attend for good measure.)

obsessed w the idea of shouto (early 20s, zero idea of what a healthy relationship looks like) falling in love for the first time and going to his big brother touya for advice because he's been getting weirdly jealous/possessive lately, and their conversation basically being like

shouto: so is that normal?

touya, late 20s and with an even worse understanding of healthy relationships: don't be stupid of course that's fucking normal

(it isn't)

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[bamsara]

Hello! I was wondering what company you use for your sticker sheets? I bough one from your Ko-Fi shop and really like the quality, and the pricing you were able to sell at is waaaaaay more reasonable compared to any of the companies I've seen and used myself. Is it a POD company, or a mass purchase of them to sell on your own?

Thank you for your time if you're able to respond!

I'm really glad you like the quality, because I actually make them by hand at home! (Please forgive the lighting, my bedroom is my office lmao.)

I don't use a company (and Idk what a POD company is sorry!) but making them at home gives a lot more freedom of stock, just be wary it can be very time consuming depending on how many you need to make.

I've had other people ask before, so here's a rundown of how I make my stickers at home: At most you'll need:

Printer

Sticker paper (this is the type that I use)

Laminator and lamination paper (the lamination paper that I use.) You can also use adhesive non-heat lamination paper if you don't have a laminator, gives you the same result, just be careful of bubbles. You will get double your worth out of a pack because we are splitting the pouches to cover two sticker sheets.

Your choice of a sticker cutting machine or just using scissors.

First, I use Cricut's software to print out the sticker sheet with the guidelines around the corners so the machine can read it. If you do NOT have a Cricut machine, open up your art program, make a canvas of 2550x3300 and fill it up with your sticker design with some cutting space between them. This the 8.5x11 size for the sticker page.

I usually have bleed selected so the cut comes out cleaner. Tip for non-Cricut users below: Increase the border around your sticker design to fake the 'bleed' effect for a cleaner cut.

These are the print settings I use for my printer. I use the 'use system dialogue' to make sure I can adjust the settings otherwise it prints out low quality by default. Make sure if you're using the above paper that you have 'matte' selected, and 'best quality' selected, these aren't usually selected by default.

So you have your sticker sheet printed! Next is the lamination part. I use a hot laminator that was gifted to me, but there is no-heat types of lamination you can peel and stick on yourself if that's not an option.

(This is for protection and makes the colors pop, but if you prefer your stickers matte, you can skip to the cutting process.)

Important for Cricut users or those planning to get a Cricut: You're going to cut the lamination page to cover the stickers while also not covering the guidelines in the corners. First, take your lamination page and lay it over the sheet, take marker/pen and mark were the edges of your stickers are, and cut off the excess:

(I save the scrap to use for smaller stickers or bonuses later on)

After you've cut out your lamination rectangle, separate the two layers and lay one down on your sticker sheet over your stickers with matte side down, shiny side up. (Save the other sheet for another sticker page)

The gloss of the lamination will prevent the machine from reading the guidelines, so be careful not to lay it over them. It also helps to cut the corners afterwards to prevent accidentally interfering with the guidelines.

Now put that bad boy in the laminator! (Or self seal if you are using non-heat adhesive lamination)

Congrats! You now have a laminated page full of stickers.

For non-cricut/folks cutting them out by hand: this is the part where you start going ham on the page with scisscors. Have fun~

Cutting machine: I put the page on a cutting mat and keep it aligned in the corner, and feed it into the machine. For laminated pages I go between 'cardstock' and 'poster board' so that it cuts all the way through without any issues, but for non-laminated pages or thinner pages, I stick for 'vinyl' and 'light card stock'. Kinda test around.

Now I smash that go button:

You have a sticker now!

The pros of making stickers at home is that you save some cost, and you have more control of your stock and how soon you can make new designs. (I can't really afford to factory produce my stickers anyway)

However, this can be a very time consuming, tedious process especially if you have to make a lot of them. There is also a LOT chance for some errors (misprints, miscuts, lamination bubbles, ect) that will leave you with B-grade or otherwise not-so-perfect or damaged stickers. (Little note, if you have page mess up in printing and can't be fed into the cricut machine, you can still laminate it and cut it out by hand too.)

I have to do a lot of sticker cutting by hand, so if you don't have a cricut don't stress too much about it. I have an entire drawer filled to the top of miscuts/misprints. I keep them because I don't want to be wasteful, so maybe one day they'll find another home. Sucks for my hand though.

But yeah! This is how I make my stickers at home! Hope this is helpful to anyone curious

[hairmetal666]

It's a fluke that Eddie ends up a gymnast. Wayne only signs him up for summer classes at Hawkins's tumbling gym to burn off his excess six-year-old energy. Nobody, lest of all Eddie or Wayne, expects him to be talented at it.

And now, somehow, he's at his first ever elite gymnastics competition. His coaches all said he was good, but he hadn't really had a frame of reference for what that meant. Not until now. Not until he's in 3rd place after high bar, right behind Steve Harrington.

They tumbled together, as little kids. Steve a tiny boy with an absurd pompadour, monopolizing the mats for insane tumbling passes and lording his high-end competition shirts over the other kids (none of the rest even wore actual gymnastics gear; they were six and it was Hawkins).

Now, he's a swaggering fifteen year old with the same pompadour and bad attitude. They're not on the same rotation, but as Eddie moves on from his floor exercise, Steve makes a point to ram into him.

Eddie doesn't react and maybe that would've been the end of it, but he ends up placing, and Steve corners him in the locker room.

"Come to congratulate me?" Eddie smirks.

"You better watch your back, Munson." Steve shoves him into the lockers.

"I knew you were an asshole, Harrington, but I didn't realize you were a sore loser."

Steve leans close, heat melting into Eddie. "You better count yourself lucky you've gotten this far. Not really a sport for poor kids."

Eddie bristles at this. Yeah, sure, his gear is secondhand, and he and Wayne learned how to sew to mend his competition shirts, gymnastics pants, and warmups, but they work hard, together, for Eddie to do this. "Don't worry about how I afford to be here." Eddie checks him as he brushes past. "Just fix those wobbly flairs on pommel."

The rivalry is hot and fierce and mean, made even worse by the fact that Eddie has an enormous hate-boner for Harrington. It's not, Eddie reasons, his fault. He's gay and surrounded by guys whose bodies are honed for a sport based on strength, endurance, and agility, Steve the most beautiful of all. So he looks, and he longs, and he hates Harrington with every fiber of his being.

Eddie's sure this would continue for their competitive lives, but everything changes the summer before their junior years of high school. They're at a training camp, the kind for world champion, Olympic hopeful types. Steve is practicing ring dismounts when he loses himself in the air, lands hard off the mat, destroys something in his knee. He needs surgery, the recovery time 6-8 months, if he's lucky to be able to compete again.

Maybe a year ago, Eddie would be excited by this development, but now it's kind of devastating. He doesn't bother examining why.

--

Steve comes back and he's--different. His first competition, he comes up, asks, "Eddie, hey, can we talk?" And, well, they've never been on a first name basis before and Steve is so so pretty, so he agrees.

"I just want to say, I'm sorry how I treated you back before. I was a real piece of shit and you never deserved it."

Eddie truly doesn't know how to respond, never foresaw this day coming. "Thanks. Uh--yeah. Thanks."

They stare at each other for a few seconds longer before Steve taps him on the shoulder and walks away.

It's not the only thing that's changed about Steve. There's this big group of feral children that follow him around everywhere now. Apparently, Harrington told them Eddie plays dnd and now they follow him around too.

He also. Has a girlfriend now. She's pretty; delicate looking. Her name is Nancy. And she's nice, or whatever. Eddie definitely isn't jealous. It's just. He's been with Steve in locker rooms for years, and he thought--well, he'd seen the way Harrington's eyes sometimes lingered on a bicep, a well-cut thigh, the intrigue of a pelvic v, and he thought--not that it matters, but he thought--

Anyway, Steve has a girlfriend.

---

They're at the winter classic, when it happens.

Eddie is doing good. Like. Really good. Like his routines, they're not flawless, but he's hitting the big skills and sticking landings, and stays in 2nd throughout the majority of the rotations.

It's not a huge shock when he finishes his final rotation, vault, and winds up finishing in 2nd. What is a shock, though, is that, when the scores go up, Steve is wrapping his arms around Eddie's waist, hoisting him into the sky. And, even after he's back on solid ground, Harrington doesn't loosen his hold.

And it's, like. Nothing, right? It's nothing because he has a girlfriend and, sure, maybe he's bi, but that doesn't stop Nancy from existing.

He's not going to think about it, is the thing. He knows it doesn't mean anything, so he isn't going to dwell. It's definitely not all he thinks about during the podium ceremony, or after when he talks to media, or even later walking into the empty locker room.

Or. He thought it was empty. But Steve is there, smiling, saying "you were amazing out there."

They hug again, and Eddie tries not to enjoy the warmth of Harrington's body, the comforting strength of his toned biceps. Eddie pulls back and Steve is--he's so close, gazing at Eddie's lips and--

Steve's mouth is hot and sweet, like he's wearing cherry chapstick, and Eddie can't--he thinks of Nancy; she's nice, doesn't deserve this, they should stop--

But he's sucking on Steve's tongue and Steve is making the sweetest sounds, hard against Eddie's thigh, and nothing else matters.

---

It goes on for months.

Eddie knows he needs to end it, vows to as soon as they're apart.

It all goes out the window as soon as they're together again. He can't get enough. It's Steve. How is he supposed to resist?

(He needs to. It's horrifying, what they're doing to Nancy)

---

The children who follow Steve around invite him to dinner after the first day of the USA gymnastics championships.

Nancy is there.

It's the worst three hours of his life. He can't look at Steve, can barely speak to him.

Nancy is beautiful and smart and kind and strong. She doesn't deserve any of this.

And when Steve drops by his hotel room hours later, Eddie greets him by saying, "I can't do this anymore."

Steve's shoulders drop, eyes squeezing shut. "Right. Yeah, I--Yeah."

"I like you, Steve. A lot. But I can't--you have a girlfriend. And I can't keep being whatever this is for you."

Steve nods, won't meet his eyes. "You're right. It's not fair to either of you. I--My parents expect--And I--I'm sorry," he whispers the last part.

Eddie smiles, heart aching. "Sweetheart. I get it. But. Figure out your shit, yeah? Maybe then we can talk?"

The smile Steve flashes him is a broken thing. "Maybe. Sure."

And that's it.

Eddie cries himself to sleep that night.

The next day, he wins first in the all-around.

---

He and Steve stop speaking.

Somewhere around, ohh, the very first time they hooked up, he caught feelings. So sue him if it kills him, seeing Steve at every competition.

They don't speak again until the Olympic trials. And isn't that ridiculous? Eddie at the Olympic trials. It's such an insane pipe dream, being an Olympian, that he doesn't actually have any expectations whatsoever.

So knock him over with a feather when he fucking makes it on the team.

And so does Steve.

The announcement rings out, and Steve is there, out of nowhere, pulling Eddie into his arms. And Eddie's so hyped, so excited, that he just shouts and hugs Steve right back.

He pretends the proximity, the musk of Steve's cologne, the tangy saltiness of his sweat, doesn't bother him, doesn't transport him immediately back to Steve's bed.

They're teammates now; he can keep it casual.

Right before they leave for the games, news breaks that Steve and Nancy have broken up.

---

The Team competition at the fucking Olympics is going well. They've had good routines, with no huge errors, stay consistently within the top 5 scores. But then they're on the last rotation, parallel bars, and he's the very last competitor to go. They'll win bronze if he can score above 14.933.

But

He's inconsistent on parallel bars, always has been, something deep and psychological he can't quite let go of, and now their medal chances are all on him.

He salutes the judges, jumps into his starting position--and his mind goes quiet. Muscle memory, skill, years of training take over--he's flawless.

Eddie sticks his dismount, and the place erupts. He doesn't have a score yet, doesn't know if he's done it, but the rest of the team screams like he has.

They pull him into their arms, but Steve is closest, his grip the tightest. Their eyes keep catching, holding, and Eddie can't really breathe but he doesn't think it's the anxiety or the excitement.

The score goes up.

Not only is it high enough for bronze, it puts them in silver.

Eddie has barely a second to process before he's being hoisted into the air, Steve's arms bracing him up. The crowd's going crazy, his teammates screaming and hugging him, each other, but all he sees is Steve beaming up at him.

He's slowly lowered to the ground, Steve's arms still around him. "You were perfect, baby," Steve whispers. "Never seen anyone like you."

He wishes he could stay right there, Steve beaming at him, but they won the silver--they won the silver at the goddamn Olympics--and they have to get medals, do interviews.

They don't have a chance to be alone together until they're back at the Village, where Steve is just waiting in Eddie's room when he gets back.

"Is this okay?" Steve asks. "I wanted to talk to you and Jason let me in, but I can--I'll leave."

"Please don't." Eddie swallows. "Stay."

Steve smiles, a little. "I needed to tell you that I'm sorry for what I did to you and Nancy. It was unfair to both of you. I love her, you know? But she's not who--I'm not in love with her."

"No?"

"No. I thought it would make my parents happy, settling down with a nice girl. But it turned out it didn't actually make a difference to them, who I dated. And she isn't who I wanted to be with."

"I'm proud of you for figuring out what you really wanted. It's brave."

"I wish I could've been brave earlier." He gives a little laugh. "Before I hurt you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He wishes the same thing.

"Um, which is also why I'm here." Steve plucks at the waistband of his Team USA Nike joggers. "I wanted to see if maybe we could try again? Officially this time?"

Eddie can't keep his smile from taking over his entire face. "Sweetheart, I would love to."

"Yeah?"

And Eddie just--after all this time, he just--pulls Steve into his arms and kisses him. The silver medals, still around both of their necks, clink together with the force, but neither of them really care.

Steve sighs, nuzzles his nose to Eddie's. "Missed you so bad," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Eddie smiles. "But kiss me a while."

Eventually, they fall back onto Eddie's bed, which makes a horrible noise as their combined weight topples onto it, and they break apart to laugh. Steve smooths back his hair, wrapping a few fingers through his curls to keep Eddie close, even though he's not about to go anywhere.

"Can't believe we made it all the way here." Steve's looking at him like he hung the moon

"Cause we're taking medals home?"

"Honey," he laughs. "Because I'm taking you home."

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴊᴏᴄᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

(۶ૈ ᵒ _ᵒ)۶ૈ=͟͟͞͞ 🏈

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘺, 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘮. 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭.

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 & 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘤𝘬

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 741 words

⭒ a/n: thank you all so much for the support and appreciation!!! i never expected my story to be so well loved :') i will be uploading yan!rockstar pt.2, yan!sea god, and a masterlist after this one! <3 (god i hate jocks)

will you venture down this path?

pop music blasts throughout the forest, bottles of discarded alcohol litter the ground, and a hundred or so young adults looking to mess up their lives dance around the large bonfire. mid-semester exams have just ended and you and your friends have decided to go to Jean Marley's party.

you are now gathered around a smaller campfire with your friends, sharing stories and laughing alongside them. Jean, the star of the party, suddenly speaks up, "who's up for a game?" a collection of voices yell out their own versions of an agreement.

"alright, let's play... truth or dare!"

"i'm pretty sure this is how horror movies start, yeah?" someone whispers into your ear.

you turn to the direction of the whisper, eyes mere centimetres away from Liam's own hazel ones. a small giggle leaves your lips as you take a sip from your cup, "if this was a horror movie, you'd definitely be the killer." Liam gasps dramatically and clenches his dark varsity jacket where his heart would be.

"you'd suspect me?! agh, how could you—"

"oh, come on! don't you think that'd be a great plot? dumb jock— who's not actually dumb— hunts down all his friends, and seemingly has no reason to do so. why would he? he's rich, popular, and has everything he could ever ask for! it's the perfect plot twist."

"well, I could think of one reason why..."

"oh? and that is?"

he moves in closer, and you could smell the faded scent of his expensive cologne mixed with sweat. his sharp eyes droop ever so slightly as if he was now looking down at your lips.

"he was madly in love with the final girl. so much, he'd murder everyone else just to keep them to himself."

"wha—"

you are interrupted by Jean's voice, "y/n! truth or dare?" confusion hits you until you see the bottle has landed on you. oh.

"dare."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Liam couldn't fucking believe you. why would you risk your life for a stupid dare?!

there you were, undressing yourself to prepare to jump off the cliff and into the lake. and here he was, watching with the others from a distance. he'd run over to you right now if he wasn't so... breathless.

phones were out, on-lookers recording this moment. you were barely dressed, figure so captivating you looked like a forest nymph dancing through the currents, the round moonlight created a silhouette of your body that further proved his comparison.

if anyone spreads those pictures of you, he's going to kill them.

in that moment, he felt his soul return to the body of his younger self on the first day of high school— he was trying out for the football team, destroying all the other prepubescent boys with no remorse. tryouts had ended and he was now an official member, that's when he first saw you.

you were on the field with your friends. they'd laid out a small picnic mat with books scattered all over them while you danced to the rhythm of a lana del rey song blaring through your phone speakers.

suddenly he knew— he knew all his prayers for a greater purpose in life were answered, you. the lyrics to the love songs his parents danced to in the garage finally made sense.

the mellow flashback was cut short by the sound of a loud splash in the water. you jumped.

panic settles in and he doesn't think before jumping into the lake with you. people cheer on as they take this as a sign to join in the water.

his biceps cling onto your body as he pulls the both of you to the surface. you wipe away any hair and water on your face and smile up at him. he returns your smile and you both swim to the land.

on land, his calloused hands never seem to retract from your waist. it settles itself on the cold, wet surface of your shirt. you can feel the heat radiating off his hands and an electric tingle in your spine.

people gather around your wet bodies and offer you both towels. it could be adrenaline, but you swear you could feel his grip tighten a little too much when others approach you.

Liam continues to stay by your side all through the night. even during the car ride home, his palms never leave your thigh.

guess you'll have a guard dog for a while.

[oneforthemunny]

hard learning |dom!steddie x sub!reader|

prompt: eddie and steve find out you've been lying to them. they're less than impressed with you.

contains:  MINORS DNI 18+ ABSOLUTELY DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE NOT 18+!!!!! poly relationship (throuple), steve x eddie x reader, dom!eddie, dom!steve, sub!reader, language, mentions of dom/sub themes, spanking, degrading, mean dom!steddie, gagging, oral fem receiving, double penetration, aftercare

Steve walked through the front door of the small home, shoulders slumped and rounded with defeat of the day. He hated midterm week, hated the week after it even more. When the college kids scrambled in to cram as much studying as they could, spilling over books and notes, scouring for the supplied they needed to pass the classes so they could enjoy their spring break. It made Steve crazy.

Waldenbooks was buzzing, sales had been great so his boss would be happy, but his employees- most college students themselves- had requested off for spring break, leaving Steve short staffed and running the store.

He could hear your giggle from the hallway, floating towards him like a soothing melody, eyes fluttering shut at the sound. You'd chose to stay home for spring break, to stay with him and Eddie. Your junior year (the second time around) was spent having lazy days in bed with the boys, savoring the moments with them before they went to work, sweet kisses and quiet moans spilled between crumpled bed sheets.

You'd sucked Steve off that morning in the bathroom while he brushed his teeth. He didn't even ask you to. You just followed him in, dropping to your knees on the fluffy bath mat with a sleepy smile. "Missed you, Stevie," You hummed, nuzzling into the soft skin of his tummy, warm with sleep, soft lips trailing kisses down to his boxers.

You didn't ask, and Eddie would have corrected you. Yanked you back by your hair, bending you over the sink to spank you until you were crying, promising you learned your lesson. But Steve couldn't bring himself to do it, not when you were so sweet, and you were making him feel so good.

Steve rounded the corner into the living room, watching you reach on your tip toes to dust the top of the shelf. You were a good girl like that, keeping the house tidy for them. They'd given you chores, of course, tasks for you to complete for rewards or punishment if you didn't, but they didn't have to. You'd do it for them regardless,

Eddie's boom box sat on the table, cranked to a pop radio station that hummed softly, filling the space with the bubbly music you liked. You wiggled your hips to the beat, unaware of Steve's presence behind you until you turned, a squeal of surprise leaving your lips.

"Steve!" You gasped, holding the duster to your chest. "You scared me!" You shrilled, eyes bulging at him.

Steve grinned. "Sorry, angel, didn't mean to scare ya." He reached for the buttons of his top, popping the buttons free down his chest.

You blushed gently, biting your bottom lip while you swayed, eyeing him hungrily. Steve bit back a grin. Of course you were pent up, here all alone after this morning, poor girl.

Turning the dial to the radio down, you set the duster down, sauntering over to Steve. "D'ya have a good day?" You chirped, finishing off the last few buttons.

Steve watched your manicured fingers undo the last of the buttons, pulling the tail of the shirt out of his work slacks slowly. "Pretty good." Steve hummed. "Can't wait for this week to be over and my workers come back. Maybe I can actually have a day off next week."

You sighed sympathetically, pouting up at him. "I'm sorry, Stevie." Sliding your hands down to his belt, innocent enough, you undoing his belt like that, yet Steve throbbed behind his zipper.

"Maybe I can help you relax?" You suggested, tilting your head to the side. "Ed's supposed to be home in a few so we can," You let your hands trail, featherlight fingertips trialing to brush over his bulge. "Play, a little later." You grinned wickedly, a devious little smile that had Steve's chest constricting.

"Fuck," Steve groaned, watching you play him lightly over his pants. "You're not supposed to be-fuck- touching us without permission, are you?" He furrowed his brows sternly down at you, faltering a little when you squeezed him, just lightly enough to have him groaning.

"But I'm just trying to make you feel better, Stevie." You pouted, rolling your palm over the rough cotton of his dark pants. "Just trying to be good for you. Make you feel good."

Steve's breathing stuttered, willing himself to pull your hand back despite his sense screaming at him. "Thank you, baby, that did feel good, but," Steve gave your hand a tight squeeze when you huffed, brows lifting in warning. "Let's wait for Ed. You know he'll be sad if we start without him."

Your bottom lip juts out a little further, but you nod, stepping back from Steve so he could walk towards the bedroom. "Did you get everything done?" Steve asked, looking over his shoulder, hard sole loafers clacking against the hardwood down the hall.

You drooled, eyes trained on the shiny shoes. You remembered when Steve first got them, only a few weeks ago. You'd been bratty that day, huffy and irritated while shopping. Steve had hauled you out of the shoe store, spanking you with the loafer in the car. It had stung something awful, and the following spanking with Eddie's paddle had been miserable, yet you ached at the thought, panties embarrassingly wet at the memory.

"Mmhmm," You hummed, swallowing the drool that pooled in your mouth at the thought. "I have our laundry washing right now. Just have to finish up the towels. The dryer is taking a while to dry again."

Steve sighed in response. "Tell Eddie when he gets home. He'll have to look at it again." As if on cue, the front door closed. You perked up, grinning at the sound of the other man, your other lover. Steve smirked. "Speak of the fuckin' devil."

Eddie's heavy boots carried down the hallway and you grinned, peeking around to greet him. "Hi, baby," Eddie cooed.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He was still in his little work badge. He found it demeaning, embarrassing, but you thought he looked positively delicious in it. Eddie worked down at a local music instrument shop, the specialist in all things guitar related. With the grunge, punk rock wave that was creeping through the music world, everyone wanted an electric guitar. Lucky for Eddie. He sold, tuned, and even repaired and gave lessons on the side for some extra cash. The only downside was the badge- rather a plaque that was bigger than an index card- that all employees had to wear on their chest. A cheesy, oversized, cartoony music note with the stores name on it that Eddie cringed at every time he put it on.

"Hi," You chirped, pulling back, eyes shining at him. "Missed you."

Eddie smirked, pecking your pouting lips. "Missed you." He sighed, walking towards the bedroom with you hanging off his waist. "Have a good day?"

You nodded, looking over at Steve, shirtless in his boxers, rummaging through his drawers for more comfortable clothes. "Did you?" You asked, dazed, zoned in at the sight of Steve's hairy chest.

Eddie snorted lightly, shaking his head. "Pretty good." He reached beneath his shirt to take off the badge attached. "You got something in the mail, baby. Laid it by the stove. Something from school."

You froze, eyes widening slightly. It was your midterm grades, shit. They weren't supposed to send those until after Spring Break, those fuckers. Steve's brow raised, looking up at you skeptically. "What is it?"

"I don't know!" You squeaked, quick and defensive. You cringed slightly at the boys' furrowed brows. "I'll go check. Be right back." You smiled sweetly towards them, scampering towards the kitchen.

Eddie looked at Steve, brow raised wordlessly, skeptically towards each other.

You cursed under your breath, sorting through the bills, magazines, ads, until you saw it. Your name printed across it with the University's crest in the corner. White knuckled grip on the envelope, you folded it up tight, balling it in your fist. You knew the boys would check the trash, so you opted to get to the guest bathroom down the hall, shove it in the box of tampons until you could dispose of it when they're not home.

You turned down the hall, hand hidden behind your back. You stepped towards the opposite hall, barely making it past the doorframe. "What was it, baby?" Steve asked, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You cringed, stopping in the hall. You peeked around the corned, body hidden by the wall. Steve looked at you expectantly. "Nothing!" You chirped. "It was just something about my financial aid."

Steve lifted a brow. "Where are you going?" He asked. Eddie joined him, looking at you over his shoulder, tugging a t-shirt over his head.

You felt your heart thump hard in your chest. "I have to pee." You said simply.

Eddie raised a brow suspiciously. Steve scoffed lightly, eyeing you skeptically. "So come in here?" He raised a brow, that obvious tone that made your cheeks burn.

Eddie's eyes narrowed at you. "Yeah, baby," He said smoothly, eerily calm. "Come in here."

You stuttered, eyes flashing from the bathroom back to the boys. You halfway contemplated making a run for the bathroom, but you knew that would only make your punishment worse.

Feet dragging towards the boys, you kept your hands behind your back, fist balled with the folded letter, cheeks red under their watchful gaze. "Excuse me." You muttered, politely, trying to push back the two figures crowding the door. They didn't budge. "Excuse me." You huffed, gritted teeth and annoyed.

"Look at me." Eddie barked, commanding and mean.

You blistered under his gaze, slowly lifting your eyes up to him. "Eddie, stop being mean." You whined, foot stomping on the ground. "I have to pee, let me through-"

"What are you hiding?" Eddie asked, nodding towards you.

Your spine straightened, palms sweating around the folded paper. "Nothing." You said quickly.

Steve rolled his eyes with an unimpressed snort. "Right." He scoffed sarcastically. Your cheeks burned, eyes narrowing in retaliation. "Show me what you've got in your hand."

"I don't have anything in my hand, Steve." You snapped. "Let me pee or I'm going to the other bathroom."

Eddie reached out for you, eyes widening in shock when you pivoted, jumping back out of his grasp. You met his eyes, yours rounded slightly, while Steve's bounced between the two of you, a little apprehensive at what Eddie might do. He was always the stricter one, the meaner one. You didn't disobey him often, sure that he'd make you sorry for it if you did.

Eddie gawked, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek. He looked over at Steve, nodding slightly towards you. You froze just before both men seized for you. "No!" You screeched, turning to run down the hall, but they caught you easily, each by the arm, holding you firmly.

Your first stayed clenched against the letter, wriggling and fighting in their grasp. "Stop it! Let me go!" You shrilled, pulling each of your arms.

"What's she got, Stevie?" Eddie asked, strong hands pinning your arm down, pivoting you body so your arm was trapped against him. His free hand went to steady your flailing limb, locking on your elbow. Normally, you'd love being manhandled by them, especially with the way the veins in their arms were throbbing prominent. It was enough to make your mouth water, even if you were about to be facing a harsh punishment.

You wiggled and fought, white knuckled fist gripping the letter. Steve wrenched your hand open, peeling your fingers open until he could fish the wadded letter out. He cried out triumphantly, holding it above his head, away from your hands. Eddie pulled you in tight to his chest, arms pinning your own down while you writhed against him, desperate to get free.

"What is it?" Eddie snapped, grip tightening with ever squirm and wiggle you gave.

Steve ripped the envelop open easily, eyes scanning over the crinkled paper. "No!" You cried out, lip wobbling already. "That's mine! Not yours! Give it back, Steve, it's not funny!" You knew it sounded juvenile, but you didn't care. You were desperate to get it back before he saw it. Before he saw the D you had in your Literature class.

The boys were strict with you and your school work, adamant that you do all your work so you were on track to graduate. You'd been mostly good, but the literature class was so draining. So much reading and analyzing, and sure, you'd missed a few assignments, but they didn't need to know that.

Steve's eyes flashed over to you. You stilled in Eddie's arms, cowering slightly under his glare. "What is it?" Eddie asked, looking from you back to Steve.

Steve's lips pressed together. "You want to tell him, or should I?"

You whimpered in response, deciding to try and wiggle free since Eddie's grip had loosened. He tightened his hold back on you, looking over at the letter that Steve held out. You could feel him tense, jaw tightening.

Eddie's hands were tight on your forearm, pulling you so he could see your face. More importantly so you should see him, stern and upset, dark eyes pooling with disappointment. "You have a D?" He asked. You shrunk slightly.

"How did you even get a D?" Steve asked, hands on his hips, glaring back at you. "We check your calendar every night and you-" Steve paused, face dropping. "Did you purposely not write down your assignments?" You looked down, silently.

Steve stomped over, hands grabbing your chin firmly, lifting it to meet his angry amber eyes. "I asked you a question."

"Yes." You sniffled, bottom lip already wobbling. "I just... I didn't want to do it all right then. I have so much other stuff to do and-and it was just one-"

"Stop." Steve snapped, shaking his head at you. "Don't you dare lie to me. I'm not stupid, baby, I know this was more than one assignment."

Eddie's eyes flashed down in disappointment at you, appalled by your boldness. Your face dropped, looking down at your feet. "'M sorry, Stevie." You whispered.

Eddie hummed, exhaling slowly while he looked over at Steve. "That's extremely disappointing." He shook his head slowly, taunting.

"I'm sorry." You croaked, teary eyed looking up at him, your sweetest, subbiest eyes, desperate to have him soften towards you.

"No," Eddie shook his head, free hand moving to pinch your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger. "But you will be." You whimpered, the small pat against your cheek a foreshadowing, taunting you with what's to come.

"What happens when you break our rules?" Eddie asked, eyes dark and peering into yours.

Your lips quivered. "Get punished." You muttered, cheeks blooming with heat.

Steve's hand knotted through the back of your hair, tugging your head back sharply. "Speak up." He snapped.

You whined at the pain. "I get punished, sirs." You huffed, you couldn't help the pout on your lips, not when they were being so mean with you.

Eddie looked at Steve, head bobbing just barely so he'd release his grip. Eddie loosened his grasp he had around you, catching your chin before you could fully relax at the released pressure.

"I want you kneeling in front of the bed waiting for us. You know how we want you." Eddie commanded.

You nodded obediently, his grip releasing your chin. You stepped towards the hall. "Nuh-uh." Steve snapped, eyes narrowing down at you. "Crawl. You know better."

You flushed at his chastisement, slowly sinking to your knees. The wood was hard against your joints, but you knew better than to complain; knew you'd be complaining about much more in a while.

Hands and knees dragging slow against the wood, you yelped at Eddie's palm cracking hard against your ass when you passed him. You desperately wanted to rub the sting, but you knew he'd tie you up if you did. On second thought, he'd probably do that anyways.

You shuddered, slowly shedding your clothes, tossing them in the dirty clothes hamper. The shushed tones of the boys outside made you shiver with anticipation, unsure and anxious at their plan for you. Sinking back down on the floor, facing the bed, spine long, palms resting on your thighs you waited. Straining to hear their conversation, but keeping your head straight.

Their synced footsteps started towards you, making your spine shoot with electricity. You started ahead, eyes trained on the bed post. You could see them, on either side of you in your peripheral.

"I'm giving you one chance." Steve said sternly, the letter still in his hand. "Tell me how many assignments you missed."

You opened your mouth to retaliate, Eddie stopping you. "You better be truthful." He warned. "It tells us on here, and if you lie to me, I'll go get my cane."

You shuddered at the threat. There was nothing you hated more on earth than the cane. They both knew that, only bringing it out when you really needed to be punished. The looming threat alone was enough to make you shape up.

You swallowed hard, lips pressing together, nails biting into the skin of your thighs. "T-Three, sir." You muttered.

Steve's brow lifted. "You sure about that?" He challenged, making your heart race.

You thought for a moment, brain wracking and filtering through the assignments. "I-I'm sure." You nodded. "Three. Two analysis and a quiz."

Eddie tsked, head shaking in disappointment. "Two analysis and a quiz." He mocked back at you. You pressed your lips together to keep the cry swelling in your chest down. "Can you believe that Stevie?"

"I can't." Steve pressed his lips together, shaking his head at you. "I would've thought our girl knew better."

"Me too." Eddie nodded, a heavy, exaggerated sigh leaving his lips. "And here I was thinking I was gonna get to be sweet to you tonight, baby." Eddie cooed, hand running down your hair. You tensed under his touch, senses heightened with every slow drag of his hand, anticipating the next move.

"You've been so good lately and now I see why," Eddie taunted, circling you like a shark to it's prey, all sharp teeth and an even sharper gaze. You kept your eyes forward, hands on your knees, clenching so you wouldn't shudder. "You've been trying to sweeten us up, haven't you?"

"She has." Steve nodded, arms crossing to stand in front of Eddie. "Been playing us all this time, hasn't she?"

Eddie hummed. "So you are smart then?" He tilted his head to the side. He could see you tense, eyes scanning you carefully. Though a punishment, you were still playing, he didn't want to overstep. The verbal humiliation and degrading was new, something the three of you were trying out.

"She's very smart." Steve cooed, and it made your heart swell. Hearing how genuine it sounded, how sweet and sincere.

Eddie's hand petted your hair gently. "I know she is." Eddie smirked, pushing strands of hair behind your ear. "You just make dumb decisions, don't you?"

His hand kept petting your locks, hand moving down to the ends of your hair. You gasped when Eddie tugged them without warning, pulling your head to tilt back and look at him. "I asked you a question, brat."

"Yes, Daddy." You whimpered. Eddie lifted a brow, eye narrowing at you in warning, it wasn't the answer he wanted and you knew that. You knew better than to try and sweeten him with his beloved title. "Yes, sir." You muttered, lip jutting.

Eddie released your hair, walking towards his closet. You so desperately wanted to look, but kept your eyes trained on the bed. You could feel Steve watching you, ensuring your eyes didn't wander while they picked out your punishment, decided your fate.

"Hmm, Stevie, what do you think?" Eddie asked, rummaging through the space. "How should we handle a liar?"

"I think you should get her gag out. The metal one." Steve grinned, malicious and scheming.

You wanted to whine, groan, cry, and beg them not to all at once. You loathed the metal gag; any gag at all, really. The metal one, a small metal circle on a leather strap, always hurt your mouth, stretching your mouth open uncomfortably and leaving you drooling. Not to mention the boys would purposely ask you questions so you'd wobble around your words, trying to form sentences with the uncomfortable intrusion, just so they could smack you and tell you to speak up.

"Hm, good idea, Stevie." Eddie grinned proudly back at him. His little apprentice, learning so quickly. "If you can't tell the truth, then you don't need to say anything at all, isn't that right?"

You bit back a pout, teething grinding while you stayed looking forward. Steve's backhand yanked you out of your daze, startling you out of your trance. It wasn't hard so much as shocking, but it had you quivering between your thighs.

"Did Eddie ask you a question?" Steve barked, hand gripping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks lightly while you faced him.

"Yes, sir." You took a deep breath, grounding yourself, keeping your cry in. You couldn't cry this early on, not giving them the satisfaction of that.

"Just go ahead and gag her, Eddie. She doesn't want to talk anyways." Steve scoffed, shaking his head down in disappointment at you. Your lip quivered. "She doesn't want to be a good girl."

"I do!" You whined, head snapping over towards Steve. He raised his brows, amused by your sudden whining, finally playing into your bratty side- the side he loved so much.

"I am being good! I'm not supposed to talk when you're punishing me." You huffed, reciting the rules they gave you months ago, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The pout was enough, you were teetering into dangerous territory and you knew that.

"Oh?" Eddie's voice quipped, playful nearly. "You're a good girl?"

You deflated under his squinted stare, challenging. You knew he'd admonish you for the midterm, but that wasn't fair. You decided you'd let him know that. "'M being good right now." You mumbled, eyes flickering towards your knees.

"Yeah, when you want to be good." Eddie scoffed. "And you're supposed to be good all the time. Not just when you want."

You blushed deep with embarrassment, heat rising from your core to your cheeks. You were sure the boys could see your embarrassment flushing your body, exposed and vulnerable in front of them. You knew they loved it, you could tell by the bulge in Steve's sweatpants that he hadn't done anything to hide. Your mouth watered at the thought, wanting more than anything to have your cheeks hollowed around him again.

"Get the gag." Steve nodded down towards you. You huffed but didn't dare whine.

Your posture was slouched, pouting and sulking at the unfairness of it all. These two hypocrites, they didn't even go to college and they were so strict with you about your own school work. They didn't know how draining and time consuming it was.

"Straighten up. Stop all that fuckin' whining, or I'll really give you a reason to." Eddie snapped at you. You blew a short breath out your nose, lifting your spine.

Eddie watched you down the slope of his nose, eyes hard and challenging. Your tummy flipped at the sight. He crouched down in front of you, free hand grabbing your chin, turning you to face him, examining your features.

"Color." Eddie demanded, voice still stern but eyes softening to read your expression.

"Green." Your voice had an edge to it, biting and a little mean, eyes avoiding his. Eddie gripped your chin, pulling you to meet his face. His brows lifted in question, serious. For all his meanness and strictness, he was even more strict about the check ins and safe words.

You met his eyes, huffing just a little. "Green, Eddie, 'm fine." You insisted.

"You sure?" Eddie asked in a low voice, grip loosening on your chin. "Let me know now before we start."

"I'm fine, promise." You gave him a small smile.

"And if you're not?"

"I'll say black for hard stop, yellow to ease up, and squeeze three times if I need to stop." You droned the reciting back at him. You knew it made him feel better, knowing that you knew how to stop if you needed to. As confident as he was, he always worried about taking it to far with you, especially with punishments.

Eddie gave you a tiny grin, pecking your cheek sweetly. "Good girl." You beamed at the praise, the corners of your mouth flicking up just barely.

"See, knew you could be a good girl when you want." Eddie's salacious grin was back, a little taunting and mean. "Gotta teach you to be good all the time."

You saw him reach for his back pocket, eyes widening in anticipation. You knew the dreaded gag was in there, stretching your cheeks slightly in preparation for the discomfort that was coming.

"Open, wide." Eddie snapped.

You unhinged your jaw, mouth presented wide for him. He presented you with the gag, but not the metal one. To your surprise, he held the one with the red, rubber ball in the mouth piece instead. Your heart skipped in relief, letting the rubber settle between your teeth while Eddie fastened the strap around your head.

"Ah, Ed, are you going soft on us?" Steve teased with a snicker.

"Shut up, Harrington." Eddie snarled. "I figured for what she has coming, the rubber would be better. Don't want her breaking those pretty teeth out when she bites down."

Ice ran through your veins, a cold chill that made your shoulders shiver at the thought. You thought maybe they might go easy on you, you were wrong.

"Ah, good call." Steve nodded slowly. "Daddy's a lot nicer than me isn't he, baby?"

You gave a short nod, trying to swallow around the gag already, drool pooling inside your mouth.

"Aw, wasn't that sweet?" Steve sneered, taunting you. He crouched down beside you. "I wonder if you'll still think that in a little bit, baby." His hand was in your hair, pulling you up to stand, before dragging you harshly over the edge of the bed.

You landed with an oomph! bent over the bed, shuffling to spread your legs. Eddie bit back a remark of praise, eyes cutting to Steve. "Where do those hands go?" Steve barked.

You quickly extended them out in front of you, back elongating into a long stretch, ass presented high and legs spread. A vision of submission on their bed, Eddie and Steve wanted to bust right there at the sight.

"Harrington," Eddie called in a sing-song voice, playful and excited. Your eyes squeezed shut. "Do you want the honors first?"

"Oh no, Eddie, I insist." Steve responded just as playfully, he sat on the bed in front of you, taking your wrists into his hands, pinning them tight.

It was comfier than the ropes or cuffs, but more embarrassing this way. Now Steve would watch you, command your eyes on him while Eddie punished you, reveling in every sob and cry. His favorite show.

"What did you pick, Ed?" Steve asked, eyes lighting up at the reveal behind you. You didn't dare look back, eyes on Steve's face. "Oh, Daddy's really mad at you. You bad, bad girl." 

You whined behind the gag, desperately. You knew you'd fucked up with the assignments, but you didn't think they'd be this mad with you.

"You know I don't like liars, Stevie."  Eddie snipped. Then you felt it, the cool leather behind you, rubbing on the naked skin of your ass and thighs.

You wanted to groan, whine and stomp your feet in protest. He went with the paddle, of course he went with the paddle. It was worse than the belt, heavier and covered a bigger area, sure to leave you covered in welts and tender for days to come.

"Oh, I know you don't." Steve grinned, eyes cutting down at you. His grip on your wrist tightened, seeing your wide, rounded eyes shining up at him, gag lodged in your pretty mouth. His cock lurched at the sight.

"I don't like it when my little, good girl," Eddie brought the paddle down unexpectedly, no warning or warm up, just a resounding crack that echoed off the walls. You lurched forward, a muffled gasp behind the gag. "Acts so bad." Eddie swung his arms back, paddle connecting with the meat of your ass.

Your hips jumped at the impact, a blossoming pink that slowly faded into red with each hit. You were bouncing, dancing from foot to foot with each slow hit.

"You lied to me and Steve about your school work," Eddie grunted, hitting where your cheeks met your thighs. You howled behind the gag, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Steve gripped your hands tightly, watching you closely. "Eyes on me." Steve snapped. You lifted your gaze, bleary through tears to meet his.

"You've ruined your grade," Eddie continued, two hard successions of the paddle, each covering each cheek in a stinging, sharp hit that had you crying.

"You disrespect me and Steve," You sobbed, snot and tears leaking down your cheeks, pooling to meet the drool that dripped out of your mouth and gathered at your chin.

"And worse of all," Eddie brought the paddle down hard, leaving you screeching, back arching and wrists tugging at Steve's hands to recoil in a deep child's pose, a submissive, defensive stance. Steve's grip tightened, and you were sure there would be bruises.

"You disrespected yourself." Eddie snapped, the paddle came down hard again. It hurt, stung, made you sob and ache, but somehow, Eddie's words- his disappointed tone, hurt and sad, hurt you worse.

You sobbed hard, shoulders shaking and posture slouching, caving into yourself. Steve felt your wrists fall limp in his hands, face buried into the mattress. He loosened his grip, looking up at Eddie carefully. Eddie rolled the paddle over in his hands, watching you carefully. Steve could tell he was contemplating finishing out, neither one of them expected you to break this early.

"I'm not going to have you hurt yourself like this." Eddie continued after a moment, bringing the paddle back down against your red cheeks, softer this time. You still jumped, sobbing into the duvet. "You do your school work and your assignments. You know you're supposed to."

"'M sowry." You blubbered through the gag, drool spilling out with the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Speak up." Eddie snapped, his hand cracking down on your hot flesh. "Get your head up."

You lifted your face out of the mattress, eyes meeting Steve's through your wet vision. "'M s-sorry." You tried again, the gag making it awkward and muffled.

Steve cooed down at you, wiping a tear away with the pad of his thumb. "Aw, c'mon, Ed," He tutted down at you. "She's sorry, aren't you?"

You nodded fiercely, before resting your cheek back onto the mattress, looking over your shoulder back at Eddie. He stood, arms crossed over his chest with his paddle still in hand, staring down at you. You clenched around nothing. Fuck, he looked so good when he was angry, so mean and controlling; such a contrast to his normal light hearted, sweet personality.

Eddie hummed, hand lightly skating over your hot flesh, squeezing the fat of your reddened cheeks gently. "You gonna do your school work?" He asked. You nodded fiercely. "You gonna lie to me or Steve again?" Your head bobbed.

"Good." Eddie nodded. You felt his fingers move lower, swiping between your legs. You whined, wiggling back onto his fingers desperately for friction. Eddie smirked, looking up at Steve. "Good girl." He cooed.

"You are so good aren't you?" Steve mumbled to you. He let go of your hands, placing them on either side of your face sweetly, pulling you closer to him. His nose nearly touched yours, grinning at you, ruined and desperate between his hands. "So good when you want to be. So sweet, too."

Eddie hummed, pulling his fingers out of you and into his mouth, eyes closing and groaning loud, the tangy taste of your spend on his fingers. "Mmm, so good. Fuck." Eddie's eyes zoned in on your pussy, needy and wet.

It took every ounce of restraint he had not to dive into you, devour that beautiful pussy until you were screaming out for more. But he couldn't, not this time. He'd brought the pain, and it was Steve's turn to bring you pleasure; a reward for taking your punishment so well. Eddie couldn't deprive him of that.

Eddie's eyes met Steve's, nodding that they should switch places. Steve swung his legs off the bed, allowing you a moment to collapse, sniffle into the comfort of the duvet. Eddie caught your face before you could relax fully, kneeling on the mattress and cupping your jaw in one hand, free hand undoing your gag. He pulled the ball out of your mouth, the sting of drool attached from your mouth to the ball spilling and pooling on the mattress, wet matter mixing with your tears.

"How are you feeling?" Eddie asked, dark eyes scanning over your features, a silent check in. His grip was still on your jaw, fingers massaging your cheeks gently after the removal of the gag. Your heart swelled at the gesture.

"Good." You sniffled, eyes lifting up to him, rounded and watery. Eddie tilted his head to the side, brows furrowed sternly at you. You gave him a soft smile. "Still green."

"Look at you." Eddie cooed, a dimpled grin spreading over his features and warming you from the inside out. "My best girl, aren't you?"

Eddie was good like this. Good about making you feel better after your punishments, letting you know it's all still play. Sometimes it was easy to feel real about them, feel like that was their true feelings towards you. Steve was still learning to get out of that headspace, still a little unsure of when he let himself slowly fade. Sometimes, it was too early, interrupting the scene, others too far after. Thankfully, for the three of you, you had Eddie- the ever "seasoned veteran of kinky shit" as he liked to call himself.

"Fuck, baby," Steve groaned, harshly gripping your hot ass cheeks, pulling them apart. "You're drenched aren't you?"

You blushed, letting your face fall towards your arms, an attempt at hiding your embarrassment. Eddie caught your face easily, firm grip on your chin. "Did Steve not just ask you a question?" He tilted his head to the side in challenge.

"Yes, sir." You muttered, heat blooming down your neck from your cheeks, you knew your chest would be showing now.

"Not really a punishment if you enjoyed it, now is it, Princess?" Steve grinned.

You gasped before you could reply, his thick fingers pushing straight into your sopping hole, adding another and scissoring your walls, spreading them open gently. Your mouth water, hips writing against his fingers because you knew what that meant. He was opening you up, getting you ready so he could stuff you full of his cock.

"It was." You whined, bottom lip jutting out, eyes flitting up to Eddie. "I promise it was a good punishment. I learned my lesson, Daddy."

Eddie's face melted, eyes crinkling when he grinned at you. "Oh, honey," He cooed, leaning down so his nose brushed yours. You purred, nuzzling against him sweetly "You're not done yet."

Your heart dropped, face following with it, while Eddie rolled off the bed. Steve snickered behind you, amber eyes flashing with excitement, tracking Eddie's movements towards the bedside drawer.

"But I-"

"You didn't think you'd get off that easy, did you?" Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side, shaking his curls at you dumbly. Your face burned. "Steve, she really thought that was it?" He mocked you.

Steve's fingers were still working inside you, opening you up. "Surely, you're smarter than that." Steve snipped. "I mean, baby, c'mon, Ed would've at least used the cane if the spanking was it."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, bottom lip trembling. "At least." Eddie parroted with a smirk. He turned around and your heart skipped, seeing the bottle of lube in your hand. Fuck.

Eddie popped the cap open to the lube, slowly walking towards you. You looked over your shoulder, neck straining at the stretch. "I told you baby," Eddie said calmly. "That ass is mine tonight."

You gulped, hearing Steve's mocking chuckles, his fingers jamming deep inside you, making you gasp at the curl. You tried to focus on how he was making you feel, instead of Eddie's thick thumb that was circling your rear hole.

It wasn't that you didn't like anal, or didn't do it often; you were in a throuple for fucksake, of course anal came with the territory. You were use to the boys filling you up, if your mouth wasn't occupying one of their dicks, your ass was their choice. The issue was, it was always Steve. Steve wasn't small by any means, but less... girth than Eddie's cock and more gentle. Eddie had fucked you up the ass a total of four times, once to try, once for his birthday, and the other two as punishment. He always made sure you were lubed up, ready to take him so it didn't hurt- and it didn't really, besides the usual stretch, it just made you feel... uncomfortably full. When Eddie fucked your ass, he was in your guts, you were sure of it- you could feel it. It was a little invasive, overstimulating.

The cold shock of the lube dripping in a fat glob onto your tightest hole made you shiver, the sensation quickly replaced by Eddie's pointer finger, circling your hole, pressing inward just to the knuckle. You clenched, eyes screwing shut.

A sharp slap to your already stinging cheek pulled you away, leaving you gasping, turning back and pouting over your shoulder. Steve glared at you. "Relax. You know better." He warned, brow lifted carefully at you.

You took a shuddered, regulating breath, rocking back on your heels to try and relax into the touch. Your skin burned with every pull and knead of Eddie or Steve's hand on your inflamed cheeks, making you whimper, toes curling with sensation while Steve expertly punched that sensitive spot within you.

"Hm," Eddie groaned, fingers lazily pumping in and out of you. "Think you should get her good and relaxed, Stevie." Eddie nodded towards you. "Finish her off for me. Before we really get started."

You shuddered at the lingering threat in the air, a foreshadowing of what's to come. You were granted only a moment before Steve's tongue was on your cunt, lapping and suckling at your clit until you let out a strangled gasp. His tongue was quick, fluttering kitten licks to your clit while his fingers fucked you.

Your orgasm was close, fiery and fierce with a rapid approach that left you reeling, abs clenching and walls clamping around Steve's expert fingers before you gushed, flooding over his mouth and hand. He licked you up easily, smirking at every spasming aftershock that followed.

You were panting, gripping the sheets with a white knuckled vigor, chest rising and falling against the warmed cotton of the bed. Eddie grinned, arms crossed over his chest, half lidded eyes watching you with blown pupils.

"Good boy," Eddie grinned down at Steve. "Let me have a taste, fuck." Eddie moaned, leaning over to capture Steve's lips on his before he could wipe your juices off his mouth. Eddie was drunk on your taste, moaning into Steve's lips while their tongues swirled against each other, the tangy taste of you swapping between their lips.

You whimpered, craning your neck back to look over your shoulder, thighs clenching at the sight of the two men, kissing with a passionate fury. Eddie's eyes caught yours, breaking the kiss with a trail of saliva connecting off their lips. He looked down at you carefully, grinning salaciously, teeth bared.

"What do you think, Steve? Have her stand up or have her ride you? Your choice." Eddie offered with a slight nod of his head for you.

"Ooh," Steve laughed, eyebrows raising in delight. "Ya know, Ed, I just really think I want her to ride me." Steve's eyes narrowed in on you. "Because I know how much you love that, baby."

You bit back a huff accompanied with an eye roll that rivaled Steve's best. You didn't enjoy riding them, either one, especially when they double stuffed you like this. You always got weak kneed, legs shaking and struggling to keep up a good pace, almost always collapsing while they finished you out, cooing and mocking at you.

"I think that's a great idea." Eddie grinned, eyes never leaving yours with a wide eyed glare. "Go on then. Get ready to ride, baby."

That's how you found yourself, kneeled with your thighs on either side of Steve's hips, his hands on your waist, legs dangling off the edge of the bed while Eddie pumped himself between them. He watched as you bounced slowly, sinking further and further down onto Steve's cock, adjusting yourself there before he continued.

Eddie squirted the lube back on his fingers, smearing it over his angry cock. "You ready for me?" Eddie asked. You nodded slowly, eyes pinched in pleasure, nails sinking into Steve's shoulders with every slow drag of your hips up and down his cock.

"You remember your safe words?" Eddie asked again, brow lifting carefully. You nodded with a gentle whimper. "Lemme hear them." Eddie demanded, grinning when you repeated them back to him, voice high pitched and nasally; pathetic, how he loved it.

"Good girl." Eddie purred, shuffling closer. He took his free hand, letting it store down your spine gently. "Hold still for me for just a second, alright? Steve, hold her for me."

Steve's arms, thick and strong pulled around your waist, circling you and pressing a palm into the middle of your back, folding you forward so you were sunk against him, still wrapped around his cock but ass leaned forward and presented to Eddie. It had taken the three of you a while to perfect the position.

Eddie pumped himself, circling the rim of your open, tight hole before pushing the head in. You gasped, clenching and spine straightening at the sensation. Steve groaned, low and throaty at the feeling of your clamped walls strangling his cock, arms tightening around you to hold you close, keep you from wiggling while Eddie sunk himself in, slowly, hips rolling and inching closer and closer until you were full of him.

You could barely move, barely lift your hips to continue riding Steve while they double teamed you, too full of sensation and brain a hazy fog that overtook your senses.

"Fuck, what a good girl." Eddie hissed, hips stroking at a much gentler pace than he usually did against you, watching the lube and his own spend gather at the base of your tight hole. His mouth watered, pupils blown at the sight. "Isn't she a good girl?"

"Oh, the best." Steve huffed, breath strangled and trapped in his chest. You were slouched against him, drooling onto his shoulder, eyes glazed while his hips thrusted into yours. At this point, he and Eddie were practically tossing you back and forth with their thrusts, a bounce from one to the other like a teeter-totter.

"She's the best girl. She- oh, baby, right there- feels so, so good." Steve clenched his jaw, hissing at the way his cock was already twitching.

You mewled, shuddering with another wave of ecstasy release with every stoke of their cocks hitting your g-spots. It was overwhelming, leaving you shaking and breaths shuddering, head spinning at the feeling.

"Fuck, Ed, 'm close." Steve hissed, calves rising and flexing to thrust up into you.

"Me too." Eddie muttered, tongue poking out in concentration while he rocked his hips a little faster, a little harder, still holding back from riding you out like he normally did. He didn't want to hurt you.

Steve's hand left your waist, reaching out to join Eddie's on your hips, their thick hands intertwining to lace together while they chased their own highs, spilling into each of your holes with sputtered groans and gasps of air, singing your praises through shuddered breaths.

You were leaking both of them, letting it pool together beneath you on the sheets when they pulled out. Steve held you close, smattering your hair line with kisses and soothing words while Eddie wet a cloth.

"Such a good girl aren't you?" Steve cooed, nose rubbing into your sweaty hair line. "You took that so well, didn't you? You did. My best girl, look at you."

You whined, lightly gripping onto his chests. You felt underwater, removed and lightyears away from the two men in front of you, their doting kisses and sweet words lying over you like a soothing balm.

"She's gone." Steve muttered to Eddie, chest rumbling against your cheek.

"Go get her some water or gatorade." Eddie said, puddle brown eyes furrowed in concern when they looked at you. "Think that'll help. I'll clean her up."

Steve left you, propped on a pillow while you slowly blinked up at Eddie, his wild curls cascading down his face like a curtain over you, tickling your cheeks lightly. "Hi, sweet girl." Eddie cooed lightly. "You alright?"

You nodded vacantly, eyes looking past him and towards the ceiling, pupils blown. "You with me right now, sweetheart? Feel alright?" Eddie asked, brows creasing in concern.

"'M alright." You muttered, airy and breathy response.

Eddie's hand cupped your cheek, calloused thumb brushing over your tear stained cheek bone. "I'm gonna clean you up, ok, baby?" Eddie cooed. "Daddy's got ya, sweet girl. You just relax."

You shuddered, system shocking and screeching with alarm when the cold cloth brushed through your aching folds, swiping and cleaning you up gently. You whimpered loudly in protest, hips squirming away from the rag. Eddie's eyes flickered to yours, relief pulling at his tight chest when he saw your furrowed brow and pouting lips, some expression at least.

"'S alright, baby. I gotcha." Eddie cooed, free hand rubbing your thigh, while he cleaned you delicately.

Steve returned, lifting you up in his arms, pressing the plastic rim of the bottle to your lips, feeding it to you in slow slips. You let them baby you like that, more than content at their sweet, coddling ministrations. Your two mean men that could turn so easily from malicious to caring, for you.

You let them squeeze you between them, lying down on your tummy, hands under the pillow while their hands intertwined and rested on your lower back.

"You gonna do your assignments from now on?" Eddie asked, propped on his side to face you, free hand holding Steve's and the other resting under his head.

You nodded slowly, eyes pulling open before fluttering closed. "I will, Daddy." You muttered, sleepily. "Promise."

"You better." Steve chided, his thumb brushing down your spine, rubbing over your soft skin then Eddie's knuckles. "Or I'll use Daddy's cane on you every night for a week, understand?"

That was enough to get your eyes wretched open, wide eyed and timidly looking up at him. Steve glared at you, challenging and warning all wrapped up in those amber eyes, brow furrowed in a look that told you he was not playing. "I understand." You squeaked, shrinking under his glare.

"I'm sorry for lying." You shuddered, breath hitching in your throat, the swell of tears returning to your chest. "I-I'll talk to my professor about making up the work, and-and I'll make sure to bring home everything, and-"

Eddie shushed you gently, hand running down the locks of your hair, petting them soothingly. "Baby, it's alright. We're good for now." He said calmly. "Just relax. Let yourself rest, ok? I know you're tired."

You sunk back into the pillow slowly, eyes fluttering back shut, succumbing to the overwhelming tiredness that was racking your body. You felt the boys kiss you, pillowy lips on either side of your face muttering gentle words before leaning over you, kissing each other in a wet smooch that had you grinning softly. It was just the three of you for now, in your own little oasis. Two men and their little (sometimes bad, most of the time good) girl.

[byelacey]

so you want to keep a great pyrenees as a pet

recently a little comic i made did big numbers on here and i keep seeing tags like "gotta get me a great pyrenees" and like AWESOME there are SO MANY of these big boys looking for adoption, especially in the US but i feel like as a person who got a pyr as their first dog (because i'm insane) there are some things you need to know - they BARK. all day and all night. they've been bred for barking. this is not bond spyxfamily borfing this is LOUD and CONSTANT. barking is their job. working pyrs protect their livestock by looking intimidating, bluff charging and barking very loud. they're also often naturally nocturnal, which means a lot of their barking is done at night. if you're the type who doesn't enjoy loud noises for most hours of the day, reconsider keeping a great pyr as a pet - they are LARGE. they are large when they are hormonal, idiot puppies. their bodies grow VERY FAST but their brain takes 2-3 years to catch up and during that time you've got a 75-150lb puppy on your hands. everything is more expensive because your dog is big, too. beds, accessories, food, vet stuff, medication, grooming, *everything is more expensive* for big dogs. get yourself some pet insurance. you'll thank yourself later. - they're sensitive creatures who form strong bonds with their flock. if you're keeping one as a pet: congratulations, you're now this dog's flock. separation anxiety is huge. they're meant to be guarding their flock, and if you go off without them, they're gonna worry about you. they also don't take well to you shouting at them for doing their job (barking very loud at wayward leaves). i'm serious. they're so so sensitive. - they're extremely smart and independent, which reads as stubbornness to us. they think they know better because they've been bred to work on their own, without humans around to tell them what to do. they're gonna pick up commands really fast, but they do shit on their own time. and recall? forget it. "an off-leash pyr is a dissa-pyr", as the saying goes. this is not a dog you'll be able to have off-leash, as he's gonna do and go wherever he damn well pleases - THAT BEING SAID as they are a large breed dog (extra large, actually), training is extremely important. small untrained dogs can get away with a lot more than a large dog. some people are afraid of dogs. you need to teach your pyr early and often what isn't a threat to you so they aren't causing trouble with their guardian shenanigans - they shed. they drool. they're large, double-coated dogs with big jowls. i have cleaned drool off of every surface of my house, including the ceiling. they blow their coat twice a year and also shed undercoat all of the time. i brush mac once a week during regular season and every other day when he's blowing his coat so that his coat stays healthy and doesn't become impacted or matted. - EDIT: someone just tagged this with a great point as well. you need a lot of space for a pyr! a fenced backyard, at least, with a fence tall enough they can't easily climb over (6ft preferably). they aren't high energy dogs but they do get a lot out of being able to roam around and patrol their yard. they are not apartment dogs (unless you walk them a lot, and you hate your neighbours) admittedly my fenced backyard isn't huge, but mac gets around 2-2.5 hours of walking per day, split between a morning & afternoon walk. they need the mental stimulation of walking around and sniffing stuff! if i haven't scared you off yet, owning a great pyr as a pet is a difficult, but rewarding experience. try and find a breed-specific shelter, there are many, because unfortunately these dogs are overbred in the US (either on purpose or by accident), and they're also often surrendered as puppies because people didn't know what they were getting into. a shelter will also take your lifestyle into consideration when pairing you up with a dog, because they want to find permanent homes for these guys.

anyway i think that's it. and if you have a pyr i am wishing you a very (show me your dog)

[jellicatty]

Hello! That's great to hear! May I request Tenya Iida x reader? Tenya is pinning for reader and vice versa and not established relationship, yet. :>

I want a scene where Tenya reacts to reader that used to have very long hair and the next day, she surprised everyone with her whole haircut, like Haruhi short, or two-block haircut that's normally for boys— and it shocked the whole class 1A.

The reason? "It's easy to manage, and no I'm not a lesbian. 😅 I actually feel more confident in myself!" This is kinda personal for me, I hope this is okay!

❝ A NEW LOOK ₊˚ ❞

Class 1A's President shamelessly falls head over heels again when he sees your new haircut.

╰┈➤ contains : tenya iida x gender neutral reader. reader had long hair. flirty iida (?) (a bit ooc). sfw. fluff. 976 words.

╰┈➤ note : thank u for requesting! i applogize if this took a bit long huhu, hope you like this ♡

It was no secret that Class 1A's president favored someone. It was no secret even to you, the object of his affection.

Tenya Iida is known to be an abider of rules, never breaking them for the sake of short-lived joy. However, his strict principles seem to crumble in your presence.

One of those instances was when you both stayed back for intense training, under the guise of "improving our skills together".

"You... You've shown great progress, Y/n." Tenya struggled to say as you pressed his arms down harder against the training mat. His flushed cheeks only darkened at the pressure he felt from your legs straddling his torso. Your cockiness also added a charm that only made his heart beat faster.

"Can't say the same for you, President." You giggled and continued your actions. "You think so?" And in a flash, you were lying on your back, caged between his arms that trapped your arms.

"Wasn't expecting that, huh?" Tenya glanced down at you, adoring your cute flustered face.

You once thought scenarios like this only existed in books. You never once hoped something as cliche as this to happen to you. However, the feeling of being held down by your president, your crush— a small part of you was glad it happened.

Unfortunately, your fairytale only lasted for two seconds. He sensed the tension thickening with each passing second, then immediately released you from his grip. An awkward silence hung, eyes avoiding each other while your mouths refused to open.

"F-Forgive me for my rudeness!" He suddenly blurted. "No, no, it's training Iida."

Looks like training is over, you thought. Before you could go to your things, Tenya walked towards you with slight hesitation in his steps.

Without warning, his hand went up to your face, pushing aside the strands of hair that covered your eye. If the situation earlier wasn't enough to send your heart skyrocketing to the stars, then this moment surely did.

"I'm looking forward to improving my skills with you again, Y/n!"

And that was how the night ended— at least to you.

︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶

The light chatter of Class 1A went normal, just like every day. Bakugo screaming at whoever disturbed his peace, Mineta being weird, Kaminari and his friends laughing at their jokes, Momo and her girls in their corner, Shoto reading alone— and Tenya, obviously in front of the class reminding everyone of the rules they need to follow (his words are like white noise to them).

"How did training go with Y/n yesterday, Iida?" Midoriya curiously asked his friend. The sudden question caught Tenya off guard, stumbling at his words when he tried to explain.

"Did something happen~" Ochako wiggled her eyebrows, teasing their president.

How can Tenya even explain his affection for you that only grew every day? After all, romantic feelings were new to Iida. Sure he did have small crushes on some superheroes but to a classmate? His beautiful, kind, and passionate classmate?

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the collective gasps of the class. Concerned by their reaction, he searched the room for the cause of their shock. Then, his eyes met yours.

"No way!" The whole class erupted in awe at your new look. Your face was normal, your uniform was the same, and nothing unusual could be noticed from you.

Except, for your hair.

The long, flowing, and gorgeous hair that Tenya admired. Now, it was transformed into a cut that matched the boys.

"I guess it fits me...?" You sheepishly questioned their reaction and happily went to your seat. Instantly, a crowd gathered around you, your classmates asking different questions at the same time.

"Woah! This new look definitely makes you manlier!"

"I wish I had the courage to cut my hair that short."

"Was the haircut intentional?"

"Why the sudden change, Y/n"

You laughed at their interest in your new look.

"Short haircuts are just easier to manage, you know? And it hasn't been a day since I cut my hair and I already feel confident!" You joyfully explained your reasons.

"You sure about that?" Mineta squinted his eyes, doubting your explanation. You rolled his eyes at his suspicions, "It's not because I'm lesbian, you idiot."

Amidst the commotion inside the class, Tenya stood frozen in his position, legs not wanting to walk forward in your direction.

He'll surely miss your hair that's for sure, but god you look stunning as ever even in your new look. He's head over heels for you, and now he's wondering why you can't notice his undeniable fondness for you.

Just by briefly glancing at you, his heart beat as fast as recipro burst's speed. He shamefully stared at you again, legs turning jello at the graceful smile you gave to your classmates.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" Tsuyu asked Tenya who remained motionless, only snapping from his thoughts at Tsuyu's question.

His stiff body betrayed his screaming mind, walking towards where you sat. The crowd had finally died down and now it was just you in your seat, in your own little world.

Now's the chance.

Tenya gathered his bravery for the courageous move he was about to do. With a ferocious spirit, he declared his thoughts on your new look.

"Although typically done for boys, your beauty has not faltered despite the new haircut!"

Silence fell between the two of you. Tenya began to worry about the sudden confrontation, but his anxiety faded when he heard your small laugh.

"Thank you, President." You thanked him for his compliment, eyes sparkling with unspoken emotions.

He let out a sigh and smiled back at you. Now, Tenya only wished confessing his feelings was just as easy as this.

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[throwawayhero]

hi!! could you do a kirishima bf headcanons? i feel like nobody ever writes for my boy, thank you! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Of course omg??? He doesn’t get the amount of love he deserves ong. One of the best characters imo, kill me if I'm wrong!! He’s been my favourite for YEARSSS and I will never get tired of him. Some of these are a bit random but I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

Eijirou!Kirishima who always walks to school and/or class with you. He’ll wait for as long as you need him to with little to no complaints (most of the time..)! He’ll just hang around in your dorm trying to look unsuspecting as he looks at your stuff while you rush to get ready. He especially loves to snoop through your trinkets.

“.. Hey, I didn’t know you still had this!”

“Neither did I..”

“Oh—“

Eijirou!Kirishima who actually takes care of his physical appearance/personal hygiene. He doesn't have a sociopathic 30 step skin care routine but don't be surprised when his bathroom drawer is full of hit or miss products that he's tried out. Will give tips about finding good products if asked about it. He always smells SO good. He also has hair products he uses to get the red dye to last longer.

"Hey, can I borrow this?"

"That made my skin super irritated, try this one."

Eijirou!Kirishima who always supports you and your hobbies, even if they only last a week. He's always up for being a test subject of sorts. Painting/drawing? He's ordering you top quality paints and pencils. Reading? Tell him about the characters, the drama, the romance, the plot twists, he's invested. Crochet/knitting? He's wearing the sweater you made him, even if it is a little bit itchy. Yoga? He bought matching yoga mats! He's ALWAYS supportive, now matter how extreme.

"Any other hobbies peaked your interest?"

"Rock climbing."

"..Sounds like fun!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who NEVER forgets to text you good morning/night. He forgot once and showed up to your dorm to apologise (You hadn't even woken up yet). Sometimes he sends little GIFs too.

'Good morning beautiful!! 💗💗💗'

Eijirou!Kirishima who has a highlight on instagram dedicated to pictures of you and things that remind him of you. He doesn't really post on social media, but when he does, 80% of the time it's about you. He also sends you a bunch of those lovey-dovey quotes from Facebook. His captions on photos are always so sweet.

'Spent the day Go-Karting with my beautiful girlfriend! Can't believe how lucky I am! #gokart #love #girlfriend'

Eijirou!Kirishima who is the KING of PDA, to an extent of course. He will kiss you anywhere, in front of anyone. Oh my GOD does this man know how to give good hugs. He's always holding your hand/wrist/finger no matter what you're doing. You could be on a walk, in a line, grocery shopping, or just sitting down together. He's always by your side :)

"..Can you let go of my hand so I can scan the groceries?"

"No but I'll help you!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who GUSHES about you to his friends. This man is head over heels and everyone knows it. He doesn't necessarily believe in soulmates but he does believe that you were the one he was meant to find. He gets this horribly happy look on his face when he thinks about a future with you that everyone can't help but laugh at. He talks about said future all the time.

"When do you want to get married?"

"..What?"

"I wanna know when to start editing my vows."

"..Editing??"

Eijirou!Kirishima who is a bit of a restless sleeper. And when I say restless, I truly mean it. This man will roll on top of you and just lay there, sprawling out and snoring happily. You have been and will continue to be kicked. One time you had woken up to him rolling off the bed.

"You slapped me in your sleep last night."

"Oops. You should've slapped me back!"

"I did."

Eijirou!Kirishima who goes all out on dates. He'll take you to a fancy restaurant and wear a suit and tie with his hair done nicely. He'll ask you to wear something pretty beforehand so that you know not to underdress. He arrives at your house/dorm with flowers and the biggest smile you'll ever see (besides your wedding day). He'll treat you like the princess you deserve!

"You're stunning, hun.. where would I be without you?"

[daydreams-after-dark]

can we talk about a sub police officer han >.> like with a criminal reader because i know we all saw how he held that toy gun in skz code 😭

I read this ask before I watched skz code… then I saw it and I knew what you meant. He’s such a darling boy. I love him. I want him to do bad things to me. Even if he does it awkwardly, he gets the job done.

🥰🥰🥰 I’m so excited actually, because I have quite a few #policeofficerskz asks and the concepts are so scrumptious. I can barely contain myself.

Anyways… here is what came to mind for your ask. I love you and hope you enjoy 😘🥰

CW: coercion, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie, sex in a semi public place, nudity.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

Since your arrest earlier that day you have been scoping out the police officers at the station. Watching through the bars of the cell, narrowing down which one would be your ticket to freedom.

Really, you shouldn’t have even been arrested. You were set up. Okay, fine. You’re a con artist. But you wouldn’t have been arrested if you hadn’t been snitched on by some undercover officer. Thanks Officer Kim.

As you analyse each of the police officers in the station, the one who seems to catch your eye the most is Officer Han. He appears gentle, quiet, easily persuaded, kind of awkward. You can work with that. Plus, he is kind of cute. Bonus.

And what do you know, Officer Han is on night duty at the station tonight. Alone. You watch him through the bars as he drinks instant coffee and works at his computer.

The lights are low in the station. It’s quiet too, apart from the clacking of his keyboard.

He yawns and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes for a long moment. Poor baby’s tired. When he opens them his eyes land on yours.

He swallows nervously. You know he’s feeling vulnerable having you watch him. This is perfect.

You tilt your head and part your lips seductively, and his eyes blink rapidly before returning his attention to his computer screen.

“Officer?” you say coyly.

His eyes snap up to meet yours again.

"I need your help. You see I'm innocent. This was all a set up. Your officer Kim is corrupt. He stitched me up." Your bottom lip wobbles.

Han sighs loudly, like he wishes you would just stay quiet so he doesn't have to do anything. Maybe he'll just ignore you.

Or maybe not.

Officer Han stands and with his head down, he quietly walks towards the cell. He stops once he's in front of you, but doesn't look up.

"Look, it's not up to me...I'm just babysitting the station. I wasn't the arresting officer. There's nothing I can do." he says and makes to walk away.

Your hand reaches through the bars and grasps his arm. He stills, looking down at where your hand is wrapped around his forearm, and swallows hard.

"Please. Can you at least keep me company. I'm scared. I'm cold." You say in a small voice.

He looks up at you, a bewildered expression on his face.

"Please?" You let your eyes well up as you give him your best "pleading" eyes.

He shakes his head regretfully. "I-I shouldn't. It's against protocol." he whispers. You squeeze his arm a little harder and he whimpers. You've almost got him.

He lets out a shaky breath. "J-just wait here. I'll get you a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket." he concedes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Officer." You purr and release his arm.

You watch him through the bars as he fumbles about making a hot drink and finding another blanket, before returning to the cell and producing a key.

You smirk and go sit on the roll out mat in the far corner of the cell. You must look non-threatening for your plan to work. He enters the cell cautiously and stands in the middle of the area like he doesn't know what to do.

"Come sit." You pat the mat next you. He looks back awkwardly to where his desk is. "I won't bite." you raise and eyebrow.

"O-okay. O-only for a second... " he stutters.

Only for a second? You know how that always ends.

"Here's a blanket, he hands you the tatty fabric. "and your hot chocolate." he gives you the paper cup and sits down next to you and looks at his feet.

"Officer Han. That is your name isn't it?" you place the cup down in the corner, and turn to him. He is very attractive close up.

He nods. "Yes."

"And how long have you been a police officer?" you reach out and draw a circle on his knee with your index finger.

"Um... six months." he says shakily as he watches your finger work its way up his thigh.

"Hmm. Just a baby, huh?" you lick you lips as you watch him tremble.

"M'not a baby." he narrows his eyebrows and glares at you, but quickly looks away.

"No. I was only joking." You bring your hand up to stroke his cheek. "I bet you're very good at doing grown up things."

Officer Han gulps. "I am." he chokes.

"Wanna show me?" You grab his chin, forcing him to look at you. "I need you to show me what grown up things you can do. Can you? Can you do that for me?"

"I-I'm not sure what you mean, Miss?" he says innocently.

"Sure you do. I'm cold." You press yourself up against his side. "I'm thirsty." You ghost your lips over his cheek. "I'm starving." You whisper against his ear. "Need you to warm me up." You nibble his ear lobe. "Need you to fill me up."

"Fuck." he whimpers.

"That's exactly what I need you to show me."

“Huh?” He looks at you wide eyed. His eyes dart around the cell.

You slowly straddle his lap and begin to grind down on him. He's hard in his trousers, and from what you can tell, he's going to fill you just right.

“Miss. We can’t.” He protests in a small voice.

“Don’t you want to touch me, Officer?” You unbutton your blouse, revealing the swell of your breasts and your push up bra. “Go on. Touch them.” You say sternly.

Cautiously, he brings his shaking hands up and rests them on the bulge of your breasts. His mouth hangs open as he squeezes them slightly.

“Mmm, you like them don’t you, Officer?”

He nods.

“Yeah? I bet Officer Han would like to know what my pussy feels like too? Wouldn’t he?” You purr and take him in a ravenous kiss.

He squeaks in response and you smile against his mouth. “I need to you take your clothes off, Officer. I don’t want any part of you hiding from me. I need to see all of you.” You lean in close your his ear “I promise I’ll take all mine off too. You wanna see me naked don’t you?”

Again, Han nods frantically, and undresses so quickly you're not sure if it's pathetic or endearing. Either way, your cunt pulses when you see his bare form. Strong. Toned. Mouthwatering cock.

“I’m naked. Now what? What do you need me to do?” He says desperately, taking in your naked body too.

“Well.” You say laying down on the blanket. “You can start by warming me up.” You part your legs, presenting your pussy to the police officer. "With your mouth."

He’s between your legs, pushing them wide, slurping at your pussy like he hasn’t had a drink in ten hours.

“Oh fuck yes! Officer. Fuck, you do know how to do grown up things!” You cry as he suckles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fingers! Fingers!” You demand, your breath heavy. He pushes two fingers into your cunt while he continues to give your clit attention.

“Yes! Harder!” You thread your fingers through his hair and pull him against your core while you grind your hips against his face.

You’re going to come at any second, but you know that you want to come on his cock.

“Lie on your back, Officer. You deserve to relax after such a hard days work.” You wriggle out from his grasp. The obedient officer does exactly what you ask and he’s on his back, cock heavy and leaking again his stomach. “Time for me to show you what a good girl I am.” You say as you straddle him.

You take your time. Teasing him by sliding along the length of his cock. Getting it soaking wet.

“Please.” He whispers.

“What is it Officer? What do you need?” you coo.

“Don’t tease me.” He sobs.

You lift off of him to line his cock up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself over his length. “Am I being a good girl?” You bite your lip as you encompass him completely.

You continue to ride him slow. He feels so hard inside you and you think if you went any faster he’d blow almost immediately. You want to exhaust the boy.

You build him up, pushing him to the edge, only to ease off. Several times you repeat the process. Officer Han is a wreck underneath you. Sobbing for you to let him come.

“Shh. It’s okay, Officer.” You reassure him as you reach down and play with your clit. You close your eyes and allow an orgasm to wash over you, clenching your walls around his cock.

“Fuck!!!” He cries and you rock your hips to take him over the edge. He comes so hard, and so deep, inside you.

Officer Han pants and trembles underneath you. But you’re not finished with him.

No.

You climb off him and immediately take his cock in your mouth. He protests. He’s so sensitive. Your mouth is too much. But you don’t care. His little cries and pretty moans make you just want to overstimulate even more.

You suck him until he’s hard, then milk him dry. Four more times. All the while he begs you to both “stop, too much”, and “fuck please, let me come!” You ride him two more times too, because he feels too good in your tight little cunt.

Eventually he is so exhausted that he passes out. Mouth agape with a little bit of drool on his chin. Or maybe that was your wetness?

It's almost a shame that you're never going to see him again. He'd probably make a great boyfriend.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

“Officer Han! What happened?”

“Oh dear. This isn’t good.”

“Someone had a rough night?”

“Someone’s going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

Voices wake Officer Han from his sleep. He blinks his eyes open to find its morning. Where the fuck is he? He sits up panicking.

Oh fuck!

He looks around the empty cell, then down at his naked body. Where the fuck are his clothes!? He scrambles around, trying to locate his uniform. But they’re gone.

The other officers laugh and taunt him as he resorts to wrapping the blanket around his waist and tugging at the cell door.

Locked.

“Officer Han.” A stern voice cuts through the jaunts and laughter, and a short, blond man pushes through the throng of officers that have gathered in front of the cell.

Han gulps. “Chief! I can explain.”

Read unrelated fic ot8 frees use jail cell

Read unrelated fic good cop /bad cop Han / Lee know

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco

[moondirti]

I just know, in my heart of hearts, that those men can bench press a bull but have zeeeeero flexibility/mobility because they don't train it. Pigeon pose? Can barely get their elbows on the floor. Half splits? More like quarter splits. Camel pose? They have already given up.

Cue: yogi/dancer reader, determined to get them to take care of their bodies by teaching the powers of Stretching Properly. And maybe also showing off a little bit...

yoga! reader is brought on to teach the boys how to manage stress through wellness exercises. they’re just so used to the rough and tumble, the physical demands that beat them to a pulp, that it’s almost a necessity at this point. like yeah, they’re complete units, but that doesn’t account for shit when their backs ache so bad in their 30’s and their knees pop every time they crouch – not to mention, how high their blood pressure is from all the exertion.

you’re the top instructor in the region, vetted by laswell and sent to base twice a week to host 90-minute ashtanga classes. which is a form of yoga that doubles as an excellent introduction into flexibility and posturing, or so you tell the begrudging men upon meeting them

though i can't stop picturing what type of student each of them would be–

gaz is a teachers pet, without a doubt. not lacking the reservations the others hold, but willing to try once he sees you bend over in a pair of skin-tight leggings the first time. brings you water and snack bars without having to ask. is the first to arrive to your sessions, even earlier than you do sometimes, and rolls his mat out right behind yours (which he claims is the best spot to get a sense of what you're doing – uncontested, seeing as he mimics you perfectly every time – but it's really because it has the best view of your ass). starts practicing alone in his room so he can impress you with a super cool pose that he totally didn't get off the internet, and ends up spraining his wrist because said pose actually isn't meant for rookies like him! pouts when you scold him the next day – there's a reason i didn't teach it, garrick – and spends the rest of the month sulking after you demote him to simple stretches.

soap doesn't try to hide his intentions. he's outwardly flirty in every capacity imaginable. the logic is, if he's being forced to come here, why pretend he's interested in anything other than the pretty thing teaching him? will pull up in the sluttiest shorts imaginable – i'm talking the tightest hoochie daddy pair in his closet – and a white undershirt, every muscle flexed to its limits. flashes you a big smile when you roll your eyes at his appearance and asks if you'd like to touch them. nae many men are built lik' me, bonnie. might nae git this chance again. definitely pretends to struggle to beckon your attention, despite being the most flexible of the 141. throws a fuss every time you instruct them to take a pyramid pose, complains until you personally position him. huffs and groans as your hands pull his legs the correct distance apart, taking note of the flustered furrow of your brow so when he approaches you after class, he has something to build his advances off of.

price pretends he's far above this whole affair, even though he's the one who needs it the most. will chuckle condescendingly when you ask why he's just sitting to the side, a cigar in hand as he 'supervises' the activities. don' get me wrong, lovie. s'sweet how dedicated you are. but i'm not subscribing to none of this... mm, business. you think it's a masculinity thing – older men are usually more averse to embracing yoga, seeing as it's a female-dominated exercise and they were raised in households that barred that sort of thing. in reality, price is just hesitant to make a fool of himself in front of his men. his joints creak when he moves and he can't touch his toes without toppling over, never mind contorting into intricate poses. the misunderstanding sets off more than one disagreement, and after a particularly rough day – wherein the two of you hashed it out in front of everybody – he starts to feel a tiny bit guilty. you're trying so hard, after all, driving out all this way to help some poor sods get over their physical impediments. so he opts to catch you on your way out to the parking lot, confessing the real reason why his participation is lacking before inviting you to his office for a private session.

ghost doesn't show up. no, seriously. you never see him, though you're aware of his absence; your attendance lists four soldiers, after all. you give him the benefit of the doubt for three weeks before reporting to laswell of his failure to meet expectations – only to be accosted by a big man in a skull balaclava on your way out. if y'wanted to me to watch you bend over so badly, pet, all you had ta do was ask.

[chinolondoner]

Author looking for readers

I'm not sure of the best way of getting people interested in the work of an unknown writer...

Plopped down in the middle of a tropical, Latin American setting, Lullaby for Bishop is set to be a hard-boiled detective series with four main characters: a veteran private investigator in the twilight of his career; a muscle-bound professional wrestler fulfilling one of his pivotal, childhood ambitions of solving strange and wild mysterious; as well as a pair of rumbunctious, teenage, high school girls constantly causing a scene and tagging along for the thrills.

You can preview the first half of chapter one further down below and catch up on the remainder, along with the totality of chapters two and three, all completely for free if you visit my Patreon. It's going to be a little while before this first book in the series is actually finished and officially published, but I feel the smarter move would be to try and elevate as much of a buzz for the featured world and characters before then as possible. I also plan to put out additional pre-release chapters in the near future (likely three at a time). If I have somehow managed not to bore you and you're still eagerly reading, then I do hope you enjoy the launching meta in this tender work in progress and stick around for future updates. Thank you for your interest!

---

Chapter One

Nervously, Donny Boy had begun rubbing his fingers on the back of his neck, seated patiently a narrow foot away from the front of the desk while waiting for our bastard detective to stumble back into his office, suddenly realizing that the price tag had not yet been plucked away or removed from the fanciful hat he was wearing and was still dangling off the rounded edge of the brim.

Looking around the room for a trash bin he could use, Donny Boy's eyes gradually panned across the office, taking note of a few of the usual mosquitoes left splattered on the frosted, scarlet-lettered glass on the door. Dizzying groves of zigzagged patterns tying in the décor on the wallpaper, he spotted an old, unused desk tucked-away in the far, opposite corner of the room, heavy with dust and weighed down by sprawling stacks of postcards and unrecycled newspapers.

His wandering eyes glancing up the rearing rays of shattered sunlight filling in through the narrow, broken blinds on the window, Donny Boy had noticed the row of fancy kettlebells neatly arranged across a flat and sturdy, iron bench scooted against the wall, a dirty, rolled-up yoga mat, along with this stationary, exercise bike for the purposes of one's daily, cardio workout.

Looking up at the rougher dust build up over the years along the edges of the blades on the ceiling fan, Donny Boy was suddenly lured back from his current distractions after Detective Howl Bishop slid back into his office, tossing a used washrag onto his desk after wiping his face and smelling of minty, nicotine gum and aftershave.

“So, what do I call you, kid?” Howl had asked while taking a seat in his chair behind his desk.

“Don should be perfect. Growing up, my next-door neighbor used to call me Donny Boy.”

“Donny Boy, huh?” Howl fought against his urges to fidget with a stack of papers in his drawer. “Sounds good to me, kid. So… are you some sort of circus performer or something?”

“I'm not sure I know what you mean…”

“Your arms… They're freaking huge!”

“Oh… Yeah… I do struggle at times finding clothes that can fit me properly. Also, I wasn't really sure whether or not I should've worn a suit jacket.”

“Yes…” Howl would peek over the top of his desk and study Donny Boy up and down, a salient tone of fascination in his voice. “You really are quite the physical specimen, aren't you?”

“I suppose I do enjoy a good workout,” Donny Boy replied, a little bit bashful.

“You do have a basic understanding of the type of job you're here applying for today, don't you?” Howl asked.

“I believe so… The ads in the newspaper said Experienced private investigator in search of young and capable partner…”

“That's right. And being a private eye, it's important to have a plethora of tools at your modest disposal. One of those tools being the ability to effortlessly mesh into your surroundings. It's important not to stand out too much when in a public crowd or when casually photographing somebody's license plate from across the road. At the moment, I'm having some doubts on that possibly being a strong suit of yours given your current… how should I say… physique.”

“Oh… Well, to be completely honest with you, Mr. Bishop, I haven't even paused to consider that as a possibility.”

“Yeah, well, thinking a few steps ahead is also an invaluable tool to have.”

With more than a quarter of a century of busy detective work under his belt, his hair having grown white as Winter's ashes and the once buoyant Spring in his footsteps having lost some of its feather throughout the years, Howl Bishop was originally from the lands of sunny, Southern California, born on a weekday in a rushed and overcrowded hospital in the blighted city of Los Angeles.

Brought up in a bohemian household, Howl's anxious mother was a failed, Hollywood actress turned “new-age” healer and father was a meddling screenwriter that had spent more of his time obsessing over the quality of the ink in his typewriter than ever inundating his children with any orderly grants of wisdom.

Standing at six-foot even in height, a strong, conquering jaw and with an even tan across his arms and facial features, Howl was one of the many foreign expats sailing over from the States in purge of more permanent roots in Pan de Leones. Old, brown, leather belt holding up his wide, beige-colored slacks, Howl always wore floral, Hawaiian shirts when in settled eye of the public, mixtures of white and pink and with a couple of loose buttons up toward the collar.

With his sharp, Anglo features and light attire, it was entirely common to mistake Howl Bishop for a possible tourist visiting Latin America for the first time, sightseeing across the country and falling for obvious scams at the nearby market. That is, of course, until one caught an initial glimpse of Howl's encyclopedic knowledge of the city's urban layout and sprawling geography, along with his ease of verbal fluency when communicating in Spanish, often conversating with local barkeeps and store merchants on objects ranging from the wise and esoteric to the lurched, mind-numbing, and trivial.

“I would like to procure a general gauge on how comfortable you might be interacting with the more unsavory avenues of human society,” Howl would lean back into his seat and ask, clamping his hands together and placing his palms over his stomach.

“Could you be more specific?”

“In such line of work, one all too often will find themselves having to calmly intermingle with unrested eyes of broken glass and scoundrels. Do you possess any real-world experience dealing with scum and the morally compromised?”

“Uhm…” Donny Boy appeared curtailed by Howl's question, unsure of how to respond. “I once dated a girl that refused to pay off her parking tickets,” he said.

Without managing to reply, Howl simply stared in confusion from his seat across the desk, reevaluating his initial impressions on the kid. Then, squinting his eyelids a little, he felt inclined to change the current subject and asked, “I don't mean to suddenly swerve off topic, but… have we met before?”

“What?”

“Well, I'm looking at your face, right now, and… I can't help but get the feeling that this isn't the first time that we've been in the same room. Do we know each other?”

“I do not believe we have ever met, Mr. Bishop,” Donny Boy was quick to point out in response, laughing out loud a little to himself while nervously shuffling around in his seat. “I've always done alright remembering faces and my mother had always told me it was rude to forget someone's name.”

“Hmm… I guess in my advanced age, my average perception of things has grown a bit muddy. I suppose I simply must be confusing you for somebody else.”

Wide, rugged shoulders, preposterous arms, and with a large, outward, and muscular chest, Donny Boy was young and handsome and had shaded, bronze-colored skin. His lightly brushed hair was a wild, sunflower-blonde of which he maintained in perfect tinge and kept the darker shadows of his roots regularly dyed. Along with the fancy, finely tailored fedora resting on his head, the crumpled price tag of which he had just recently stuffed into his pocket, Donny Boy wore a normal pair of rectangular, blue-framed eyeglasses, granting him a bit of a barbarous librarian kind of a look.

Dark eyebrows and with the small patch of facial hair on his chin routinely trimmed, Donny Boy had entered the office wearing a short-sleeved, white, button-up shirt, the generous, overfed muscles of his upper body appearing to want to tear through the clothing and with a clean pair of ruby-red suspenders attached to the waistline of his denim-blue slacks, tugged and strapped-up over his mountainous shoulders. He also had on a dorky, red bowtie for the occasion.

“How old are you, Donny Boy?”

“I'm twenty-eight years old, Mr. Bishop.”

“And what's your sleep schedule like?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your sleep schedule. Have you developed the habit of going to bed around the same time, every night?”

“I believe so. I've never been one to indulge in any late-night festivities. Why do you ask?”

“Well, when living the demented life of a private eye, it's not uncommon to have to commit to some later hours on the unplanned occasion: car stakeouts after midnight; navigating the craze of urban nightlife on foot; purchasing some nefarious lawyer a hundred shots of overpriced vodka at the stripclub just for a few layers of common information. Do you drink coffee?”

“I've never been much of a coffee drinker, no.”

“Well, you definitely should be. Sugar highs and caffeine are going to be your most reliable friends on those late nights when you most need them. Either that or… well… you know…” Bringing his hand up to his face, Howl used his finger to tap the side of his nose.

“Oh, no way, Mr. Bishop,” Donny Boy immediately replied. “I wouldn't even think of touching that stuff. I've always had a firm stance against any illegal drug use.”

“That's good,” Howl said. “I've noted my fair share of innocent souls throughout my time wasting away from drug addiction. A found sense of longed-for excitement is what initially lures them in. And then, after enough restless days turn to night, enough sleepless nights turn to chaos, suddenly they look up and… the neon lights on the street don't seem as vibrant as they once used to…”

Donny Boy would look at Howl with a sort of strange sense of wonderment, our detective's eyes having slowly migrated across the room toward the window, perceiving what, to him, had appeared to be an expression of profound fatigue captured on his face.

The sound of the vehicle screeching to a halt could suddenly be heard outside on the street, trashcans tumbling over and followed by the angry voice of a young woman shouting profanities.

“Oh no…” Donny Boy muttered underneath his breath, his eyes suddenly wandering over toward the window.

“What about your relationships?” Howl asked. “Do you have a wife or girlfriend? One of the more unfortunate aspects of being a private investigator is the difficulty you might experience maintaining a healthy inner circle. This is often a critical detail that turns the most people away.”

Donny Boy was completely distracted and had failed to pick up a single word, a growing look of nervousness on his face.

“Donny Boy, are you listening?”

The frantic sound of sudden footsteps quickly marching up a flight of stairs could be heard just outside the door to the office, followed by the reactions from Howl's trusted secretary demanding an unknown grouping's identification and honest proof of appointment.

“Move aside, lady! You don't want to have to get injured!” a young woman's voice hollered in response.

“How have they managed to find me?” Donny Boy wondered out loud to himself.

“We have you outnumbered and we're very upset!”

“What the hell is going on out there?” Howl began to react.

Suddenly, managing not to completely fly off its hinges, the door to the office was viciously kicked open, creating a sudden gust of wind that would travel across the room, knocking over a slanted stack of printed papers off the corner edge of the desk.

Standing in the open doorway, visible tension throughout her arms as her hands were forged into concrete fists, a young, teenage girl had a rancid look of anger on her face. A dark, navy-blue blazer over a knitted, bright, yellow skirt, the young woman was dressed in a traditional, school-girl's uniform and had her hair cut down short, visible scrapes and bruises on her knees giving out impressions that the girl was perhaps a bit of a rowdy tomboy.

“Nayaiko! I found him! He's in here!” the young girl shouted back over her shoulder.

She would then come into the office, and shortly afterward, her thin silhouette appearing in the doorway, an additional and secondary, young woman showed her face and seemed equally upset at the current moment. Dressed in an identical uniform as the first, this second girl had her hair much greater in length and stood with long and beautifully braided pigtails poking out the sides of her head.

The second girl entered the office and shut the door.

Standing over Donny Boy who seemed to be trembling in his seat a little, the first girl snarled out of her nostrils and said, “This is the second time this week you tried to ditch us…”

“This honestly isn't the best time, girls,” Donny Boy said, his voice a bit shaky.

“You know, we were standing outside the changing booth for thirty-five minutes before we realized you weren't there,” the second girl would report. “You told us you were trying on some hats!”

“I did! Look!” Donny Boy then lifted the hat up off his head to showcase. “I ended up purchasing this really awesome fedora for myself. It's really cool, isn't it?”

Neither girl seemed to want to take the time to respond. They simply crossed their arms in defiance and stood with a pair of inconsolable scowls on their faces.

Continue...

[charlie-lec-stories]

Out the comfort zone // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Sensitive matters should always be addressed with kindness, tactfulness and pinch of fun.

Warnings: Sexual comments and conversations, but from a mature and funny perspective.

Author’s Note: This story is about communication. Since our favourite trio relays a lot on it, this time you'll have the chance to witness them discuss a really sensitive matter on their relationship. Rate: +18 (Sexual topics)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"No, no, no, no, no, no. This is not working, Max".

"Maybe if you move your leg to the left, Schat".

"What do you think I am, a gymnast?".

"Well, you are pretty flexible, Amour. Just open your legs wider. I can go behind you".

"This is getting kind of personal, guys, I don't think I want to be a part of this anymore".

"Oscar, don't be a baby".

"He is a baby, Amour".

"I'm 23!".

Lando, George and Alex couldn't believe what they were hearing. It wasn't enough for them to do the dirty together, they also had to mix Oscar into it. As the three of them walked further into the apartment, they found Oscar's hoodie on the floor, and the sound of Max grunting wasn't helping with the picture they were already making in their minds.

"I swear to God, I'm not that flexible. I mean, when it’s just us three, it's easier, but I think that four is just too much. Sorry Oscar, it’s not your fault".

"Way to make a man feel rejected...".

"I really am sorry. But if we keep going like this, I'm going to fall and my ass is going to hurt for days'.

Okay, maybe they should make their presence known. Looking at each other, George understood that he should be the one taking the lead.

"Hey guys, are you home?". He asked, but Lando just couldn't keep quiet.

"Please, tell me you haven't corrupted my teammate yet. He's just a baby!".

Walking into the living room, the three drivers were surprised by what they found. Tangled in a Twister mat, the other four were barely keeping their bodies up. Actually, Y/N was the first one to give up, falling butt first to the floor and taking Oscar down with her, who kicked Charles' right arm, making the monegasque lose balance and take down Max with him.

"Why is it that I can never guess it right when it comes to you three?". Lando asked, rhetorically. Every time he guessed they were doing nothing, he walked on them taking their clothes off, and every time he thought that they were having a private moment, they were just doing something completely innocent.

"Maybe you just think it too much". Max replied, smirking at the disgusted face Lando made. Oscar, Charles and Max got up, Y/N staying laying on the floor, legs and arms extended and exhausted look on her face. Everyone looked at her, expecting her to get up.

"Don't worry, I'll get up when I start feeling my legs again... Man, I hate Twister". She sighed. Oscar took his chance to get back at her.

"And I'm the baby...".

They all had dinner together, and after the guys went away, Max and Charles cleaned the kitchen while Y/N fixed the living room. She carefully folded the mat while listening to the boys chatting in the kitchen. They were discussing something about Carlos. Apparently, the spaniard had a fight with his girlfriend about anal sex. She found it weird that Charles and Max were open enough to talk about it knowing that she was around. It wasn't like she didn't know what they both did when they were alone, but they were never straight forward about either. She kept listening to the conversation. It seemed like Carlos' girlfriend was scared of trying it, and he took it as if she didn't trust him enough to do that with him. But she wasn't interested in what Carlos and his girlfriend did, she cared about what Charles and Max thought about the situation.

The thing is, they had their own ways of approaching sex and those ways were kind of limited. Mostly because of her. She was scared, as Carlos' girlfriend, of getting hurt while doing new things, and even if she had boyfriends before them, she was a little vanilla with them. It was a big jump going from one person to thinking about two at the same time. So the boys were patient, they "took turns" so she wouldn't be too overwhelmed with the situation. More than once she thought about how boring it must be for the one waiting, watching the other two have fun while he had to wait, and whenever those thoughts crossed her mind she felt the need to broaden her comfort zone a little bit.

She concentrated on the conversation again. Max explained that he could empathize with Carlos' point of view, it would hurt him a little to know that Charles or Y/N wouldn't try with him something they wanted to do thinking they could get hurt. He was clear with that: when you love someone, you don't let them get hurt, and you never, ever, hurt them yourself. Charles was little more on the girlfriend's side, he remembered the first time he let Max do that, and he was scared shitless, he also reminded Max that he begged Charles to go easy on him when it was his turn, and with that reminder, Max gave some more credit to the girlfriend's argument. It seemed like they both understood, not only for having been in that position before, but also from an empathetic side, how vulnerable it could be to let someone do that to you. She felt relieved.

"Hey, can I ask you guys about something?". She asked later that night, looking at her lap. They were getting ready for bed, Max was brushing his teeth and Charles was changing his jeans for a more comfortable pair of shorts. They both looked at her, curious about what she could be thinking about. She had been pretty quiet since the guys left.

"Sure, Amour. What is it?". Charles walked to the bed and sat down, placing his hand on her leg and running it up and down, easing her anxiety a bit. Max rushed up his routine so he could focus completely on her, going to the bed as fast as he could.

"I've been thinking about something. About us". Max didn't like the sound of that, he loved what they had too much, he didn't want to break up. "I know that we don't do a lot here". She patted the bed and they frowned at the same time.

"What do you mean, Schat?". He smirked at the thought of everything they had done on that bed. "We do a lot here".

"I mean, yes, we do, but it's how we do it". They weren't following her and it was frustrating. "I want us to do things together, the three of us, but it scares me. Every time I think about it, this fear of getting hurt paralyzes me".

"You mean that you want us to do things to you... together?". Charles was trying to be as polite as he could about the subject, Max was a little more direct.

"This is the type of conversation I like to have in bed. Who cares about the last episode of The Last of Us?". Y/N laughed under her breath, the pink on her cheeks softening a few tones.

"We can try whatever you want, Amour, as long as you feel comfortable. You're the one that will get the roughest part, we know that, that's why we never asked for more and waited for you to bring it up". That made her feel safer.

"We will always take care of you. We promise". She knew that Max was sincere.

"So, how do we do this?". The boys looked at each other, their eyes wide open.

"You want to try this now?". Charles asked and she nodded.

"Yes! I waited for this moment my whole life". Max exclaimed happily as he took off his shirt.

"Mate, calm down or you'll be the one getting it". Charles did what he could, but there was no cure for Max. If there was something that he had been waiting for was for the moment they all three did something together.

"I didn't know his love for butts extended this far". They watched Max go to the bathroom, looking for lubes and oils that would make the process a lot easier.

Charles just sat with her, holding her hand and smiling at her. Y/N and Charles had a different sexual history together than each of them had with Max. They started dating first and that meant that they started sleeping together before they added Max to the equation. Charles knew what, how and when she liked things. He knew her like the back of his hand, and had a different approach to intimacy than Max had. They were pretty equal in bed, but she usually let him take the lead of the situation and it was a wise decision, since he never guessed wrong what she wanted to do. Max was different, he worshiped her, he would do whatever she'd ask for if it meant pleasing her. That meant that she was the one taking the lead and he followed her like a warrior on a crusade. She didn't know what they were like when they were alone, for what she heard from them once in a while, they switched a lot, it all depending on their moods at the moment. When the three of them were together, Charles would usually go first, helping her relax and carry the situation, Max watching and doing little to no interventions. Then the Dutchman would follow with Charles still in the picture, but more coming from a caring side, taking care of them. He had a protective side that never rested and always shone with them.

Max gave Charles the space to ease Y/N's nervousness, while he decided to go to the living room for some scented candles and his speaker, already thinking on which playlist they should use to make the situation more relaxing for her. Charles took his time setting the mood, kissing and caressing every place of skin exposed before starting with her clothes. She was grateful that they didn't jump on her the minute she agreed to try this, instead they took the time to help her feel comfortable and, more importantly, loved. Once every piece of clothing was off, Charles looked at Max, a silent conversation about how Max could enter the picture as smoothly as possible. They decided for him to do something that Charles usually does: massages. So while Charles kept her busy, Max took one of the oils and gently started massaging the knots on her shoulders, easing the tension. They both knew the process, they knew what they had to do for her to be ready, so they just made sure to be open and verbal about what they were going to do before doing anything.

"It's going to hurt, you'll feel some pressure, Schat. It's normal, you just have to relax". Max told her after her and Charles had already been going at it for a while, as he carefully moved her legs to position her comfortably on top of Charles. "If you feel like you can't keep going, you tell me and I stop immediately, okay?". She nodded, still a little tense, even if she was worked up. Charles, under her pulled her flush against him, letting her rest her weight on him and running his hands up and down her sides.

"We need words, Amour, you know it". It was a rule that they had, nothing without explicit consent, specially new things.

"Yes, I understand. I want to do it". She sighed and prepared herself, focusing on Max's hand caressing her lower back.

It hurt, it took her some time to get used to it, she even let a few tears run down her cheeks. The boys stopped moving a few times to give her time, they whispered some comforting words to her and kissed her discomfort away. But she ended up liking it, once the pain was not there anymore, once she felt how connected she was to both of them in that moment, she realized that she was right on stepping out of her comfort zone. She had never seen them as happy as she saw them in that moment, Charles locking eyes with her from underneath her, Max's smile against the back of her shoulder as his hand grabbed Charles', both squeezing each other's hand tightly. It was special and it was great, two things she before feared the moment wouldn't be. She was glad that they all did that together.

"How do you feel, Amour?". Charles asked her as soon as he recovered from his post sex dizziness. She felt Max moving away from her, lifting his weight so she could move if she needed to, but she needed him close, so she grabbed his arm and pulled him back on top of her. Charles let out a huff when Max's weight fell on them again, being the one holding everyone on top of him was hard, but he wouldn't rather be anywhere else. Max chuckled at his huff and Charles slapped the back of his head, but ended up joining his boyfriend in the laughing fit. They stayed like that for a while, just close while their hearts went back to a normal rhythm.

"What about a bath, Schat? I think it'd be good for you". She let out a quiet 'yes', Max then getting up and walking to the bathroom. Charles took his time with the massages, working on all the new muscles she had used and were in need of care. When the water was ready, he helped her up and she went to the bathroom. While she relaxed, Max and Charles cleaned up. They changed the bed sheets, took all the candles, oils and lubes to their places and prepared some tank top and cotton panties for her to dress up with. She stayed there until the water got cold, and with still some discomfort, she got out and wrapped herself in a towel, emptying the tub before walking out. She dried and dressed herself quickly, and joined the boys on the bed, taking her spot in the middle. The tiredness on their faces was notorious, but they put on the effort to stay awake to make sure she was alright.

"You might feel a little sore in the morning". Charles said and then kissed her shoulder, his hand on her hip, on top of Max's.

"But the bright side is that you get breakfast in bed because of that". She giggled at Max's comment.

"I might do this with you every night if it gets me breakfast in bed in the mornings". She joked, but Max was grinning like he won the lottery. "I'm joking".

"Don't play like that with my heart". His smile dropped and she felt Charles shaking with laughter behind her.

"You seriously love butts".

"They are one of the best features of you guys, after your arms and Y/N's boobs". The other two looked at him holding their laughter. "What?"

"Bueno, para gustos, colores". Y/N said and snuggled up by bringing Max closer. They were used to her chanting some Argentinian sayings at them and they learned what most of them meant. This one meant that it was pointless to discuss personal preferences. "Thank you for being so good to me". She said after a while. "You have no idea how important it is for me that this moment went on this great".

"We love so much, Schat. You don't have to thank us for these things. We'd bring down the moon and stars for you".

"Je vous aime, mes chéris". (I love you, loves)

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Hey, I'm back with lestappen x reader. Hope you guys like it. I'm thinking about working a bit with smut, but from a more subtle and delicate perspective. What do you guys think about that? Would you like more content like that?