#arn m

[transparentgentlemenmarker]

Le Pari Risqué des Canards Vaccinés à l’ARNm le 1er octobre 2024, 62 millions de canards se font piquer avec des vaccins dernier cri à dans quelque 2500 élevages français. L’objectif affiché est de lutter contre la grippe aviaire qui décime les élevages depuis des années. Cette campagne vaccinale va coûter la bagatelle de 100 millions d’euros, dont 70% seront pris en charge par l’État, c’est-à-dire par nous, jusqu’à fin 2024. Tout ça pour sauver le foie gras de Noël et les exportations de volaille. Car oui, la France est le seul pays au monde à se lancer dans cette folle aventure. Mais attention, on ne parle pas ici de vaccins classiques à virus inactivé. Non, nos chers canards vont avoir droit à la totale : des vaccins à ARN messager. Une première mondiale dans l’élevage aviaire. Le principe est simple, on injecte aux canards un ARN messager synthétique codant une protéine du virus de la grippe. Les cellules des volatiles vont alors produire cette fameuse protéine, déclenchant une réponse immunitaire. Malin, non ? Pas vraiment oh oh il a été tester sur nous … On ne connaît pas encore tous les effets à long terme de cette technologie, surtout quand elle est utilisée à grande échelle. Vu les drames créés par l’ARN messager avec le vaccin du covid19, imaginez la suite. Car c’est bien là que le bât blesse. En se lançant dans cette expérimentation grandeur nature, la France joue aux apprentis sorciers avec notre alimentation. Personne ne peut prédire quelles seront les conséquences de la consommation régulière de viande et d’œufs issus d’animaux vaccinés à l’ARNm. Certes, les autorités nous assurent que tout est sous contrôle, que les vaccins sont sûrs et sans danger pour le consommateur. Mais avouez que ça fait quand même très peur de se dire qu’on va manger du canard OGM au prochain repas de famille. Ne faudrait-il pas appliquer un principe de précaution et attendre d’en savoir plus sur les effets de ces vaccins révolutionnaires avant de les administrer à toute une filière ? C’est en tout cas ce que demandent de nombreux experts et associations de consommateurs. Mais le gouvernement semble bien décidé à foncer tête baissée dans cette direction, quitte à nous faire avaler de force ces canards nouvelle génération. Alors, la prochaine fois que vous croquerez dans un magret, pensez-y : ce n’est peut-être pas seulement du gras que vous ingérez, mais aussi une bonne dose d’ARN messager aux effets délétères. Bon appétit, bien sûr ! …

mostraak.com/le-pari-risque…

[softsnzstuff]

Mmmm another prompt suggestion:

Bucky being horribly sneezy (cold or allergies, your choice) around the civil war era so many of the avengers are very wary around him and don’t know what to make of this unstable, brooding guy having the sneezes?

Wait stop this is so funny and I’ve never thought about this before??? Enjoy this tiny lil drabble!

*~*~*~*~

The room was awkwardly silent. Everyone sat around just staring at Bucky, who was on the couch scrubbing at his nose.

“Is he… broken?” Clint asked.

“It’s his allergies.” Steve quipped back.

“Do robots have allergies?” Sam scoffed.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I can hear you, you know… hhh - ‘tSCH! H’NxXt!”

Compared to his size and strength, the sneezes that escaped him were quite small. Kittenish, even.

“Bless you, Buck.” Steve pat his shoulder.

“Tha’gks.”

A laugh slipped out of Sam before he could stop it.

“Alright. I’m going upstairs.” Bucky groaned, getting up off the couch. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Aw Buck, they’re only teasing!”

Steve tried to do damage control, turning and rolling his eyes at the others before following the winter soldier upstairs.

[substantial-gains]

Soooo if you have to be smothered between any two xenoblade gals, who would you choose? Stipulation being that you can't choose Pyra and Myffwa

The softest, most heartwarming hug in existence would probably be between these two's guts. There are no questions concerning this particular instance of catgirl combo supremacy. Even if the Aegis sisters were still in the mix and together, I'd still go with Mio and Nia~

That, and with their personalities, I don't think they'd crush me like a bug beneath their boot if I was in a position to legitimately ask-

Potential baby weight also adds to the feeling IMMENSELY. It would be the most platonic of smothering's, but not a single regret would be had~~

[gmod]

my flight rising clan lore ranges from "plush dragons can take more hits then reg dragons lol" to straight up

[5poder]

Aumento de la mortalidad por cáncer podría relacionarse con la vacunación contra COVID-19Los investigadores informaron que en 2021 se pusieron en marcha las vacunas contra COVID-19, dándole prioridad a los grupos vulnerables, como aquellos que sufren de cáncer

La vacunación contra COVID-19 puede haber contribuido a un aumento de las muertes por neoplasias como el cáncer durante el período pandémico 2021-22, según un estudio publicado recientemente que pedía más investigación sobre el tema.El estudio preliminar, publicado en ResearchGate, investigó las tasas de mortalidad por neoplasias en Estados Unidos. Neoplasia se refiere a una masa anormal de…

[hyukascampfire]

𝓖INGER & 𝓢NAP ` ꕀ. k.th

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered. ׄ ⋆ ִ

་༘ ՚՚ ꒰ 🪵 ꒱ ･ 7.9k

ρairings gingerbread!taehyun x frosty puff!reader

𝒢 ‧̥ smut, fantasy, strawberry shortcake au

⍵arnings brat taming, brat tamer!taehyun & brat!reader, his cum is frosting, creampie, ofc no sex ed in strawberryland, thigh riding, oral m!receiving, cumming into mouth, cum eating, corruption of innocence & innocent!reader, banter, chubby!reader and buff!taehyun, manhandling, he throws her around a bit and she's so into it, they don't like each other but also def do, he likes to teach her manners, reader is also spoiled & rich and taehyun is not, hair pulling, he gets mean, no protectiom, let me know if i missed some!

✎୭ ashlynn's note this collab has been seriously so fun. writing fics is fun, but there's something about talking your friends and scheming all the yummy ways you can incorporate certain things into your fic. @thetxtdevil mae baby, thank you so much for being the best and even coming up with this idea. your mind amazes me... like actually. everybody did so unbelievably good, and i'm blessed to have been a part of it. now... let's get foody and smutty lol. some of this was written in a benadryl haze, but that's the fun part. i'm sorry mine came out a lil later than everybody else's, but hopefully it's still fun!

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg. 

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain. 

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snobby, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever. 

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded?  He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Strawberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that he is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you. 

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.” 

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure. 

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks? 

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…” 

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s  a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show. 

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition. 

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning. 

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

 You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak. 

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four.  “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you. 

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top. 

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone. 

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.” 

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that. 

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust. 

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house. 

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes. 

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic. 

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder. 

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess. 

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

 You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality. 

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips. 

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding. 

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Your fingers don’t even touch around jt. The weight and warmth of him in your palm makes your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags it up and down his rigid length the way he had been doing a few beats ago. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds sending your ears and core burning just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you. 

He twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted. 

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good. 

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath. 

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what that means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it. 

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it. 

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this… 

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh. 

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad? 

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shit,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost. 

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet. 

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

﹙📋﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , @izzyy-stuff , @miukuui , @lunesdesire , @304files , @sunoolver , @cherricola-star , @lickingan0rchid , @xylatox , @hmusunoo , @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @joycelyjjj , @sunoolver , @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @apeachty , @fandomtrashsblog , @bewitchless , @yezzns2 , @hhoneyhan , @ethystclove , @darkdayelixer , @calumcxke , @biteyoubiteme , @bamgeutsz , @soobabby , @little-shiny-starr , @bambammtori , @bunniebun-posted , @heeambi , @bunnisoobin , @hwanghyunjinismybae if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[motionpicturelover]

"Underveis" (1968) - Knut M. Hansson

Films I've watched in 2023 (13/119)

[downthetubes]

Armed with Madness, new graphic novel from Mary and Bryan Talbot, to get Lancaster launch

Bryan and Mary Talbot will be launching their new graphic novel, "Armed With Madness", at an event in Lancaster in May.

Bryan and Mary Talbot will be launching their new graphic novel, Armed With Madness, the story of surrealist Leonora Carrington, published by SelfMadeHero, at an event in Lancaster in May. The event has been organised by Lancaster University, where Mary is Visiting Professor of Graphic Narrative in the Department of English Literature and Creative Writing. Reluctant muse and feminist champion……

[mayhem24-7forever]

Need You Tonight

Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson Fic

Author’s Note: IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER, THIS IS NOT FOR YOU, DO NOT INTERACT! This is dedicated to and inspired by the lovely Shan/ @bvcksmurdock. Hope you like the title as a cheeky little inside joke. Special thanks to Arne @lovearne for finding me the floor plan of Eddie’s trailer and to Ashley @likedovesinthewnd and Nina @chaseadrian for helping me get the pipe smoking correct since I have only done edibles lmao. Also huge thank you’s to Vee @a-reader-and-a-writer , Leah @ohtobeleah and Shelby @rhettabbotts for beta reading/editing/giving advice when I was lost. I made the executive decision to set this in late 1987 specifically so I could include a reference to the song that gave me the title, which means it’s set like a year after season 4 so uhhhhhhhh fix it fic I guess. fic dividers from @firefly-graphics

Content Warnings: not canon oops, fix it fic kinda, SMUT, smoking weed/doing drugs, drinking/getting drunk, getting crossfaded (high and drunk at the same time), explicit consent despite mind-altering substances but I was still advised to say dubious consent because of this, blacking out/passing out (not any of the main three), dirty talk, swearing/language, dirty talk (like absolutely filthy, including the word “cunt” and “slut”), Dom!Eddie, Switch!Steve, Sub!Reader, M/M/F threesome, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), handjobs, fingering, penis in vagina sex, anal sex, double penetration (penis in vagina and penis in asshole), bondage (handcuffs and rope), gags (cloth/bandana gag), light spanking, BDSM elements, dom/sub elements, masturbation, brief love triangle that is ended by a threesome (as most love triangles should end), Steve and Eddie are consent kings, all three are unbelievably horny, spanking as flirting, orgasming so many times you pass out, Eddie is currently in charge of the singular steddie brain cell, aftercare, usage of a ridiculous amount of pet names (Reader calls them “Eds” and “Stevie”, Steve calls them “baby” and “lover boy” and Eddie calls them “princess” and “big boy”), Robin awkwardly walking in and seeing something she shouldn’t have.

“I swear to god, if you put Cyndi Lauper in my cassette player, I’m throwing the tape out the window.” Eddie warned.

“Oh, come on! I love this album!” Y/N replied incredulously. “It has all my favorite songs!”

Eddie was leaning back against the wall casually, beer bottle in hand as Y/N stood at the player, shoebox of cassette tapes in hand. Nancy and Jonathan sat behind them on the couch and even with just four people, Eddie’s trailer was already beginning to feel a little crowded. Jonathan was smoking a joint, his arm around Nancy as they talked quietly, making lovey eyes at each other. Nancy was sipping on a can of soda, having decided to be his designated driver. The whole group was having a party, although Steve, Robin, and her girlfriend Vickie hadn’t arrived yet. 

“Sorry, princess. This is a Lauper-free trailer. It’s out of my hands.” Eddie said, putting his hands up in a mock surrender with a shit-eating grin.

“Fine.” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Then I’m putting in ABBA.”

“Fuck no, you’re not!” Eddie said, pushing off the wall to get closer to her.

“God, you’re so picky Eds!” she scoffed, mildly annoyed. “Why’d you tell me to bring the music for the party if you’re not gonna let me play any of it?”

“Just let me see what else you have.” he said, walking over to her, taking the shoe box and immediately making a face as if the collection personally offended him.

“Oh, come on! I know it’s not heavy metal and rock ‘n roll but my taste in music is just as good as yours!” she exclaimed defensively. 

“Queen, Billy Idol and Oingo Boingo are good, you can play those. Tears for Fears and Duran Duran are a stretch that I’ll allow because you’re so cute, but the rest of this pop shit is staying in this box the whole night.” Eddie said and her jaw went slack with shock.

She knew that they were just playing, it was just something she and Eddie did, like how she and Steve were very touchy with one another. Everyone in the friend group, except for her, knew that Eddie and Steve both had crushes on her and were engaged in a (mostly) friendly competition to get her attention. And everyone in the group, except for Steve and Eddie, knew that she was head over heels for both of them but couldn’t pick between them. Unbeknownst to the three, Robin had even been taking bets from as to which one of them is finally going to do something and when. Even in his weed-induced haze, Jonathan knew that the bickering and flirting was only going to get worse the longer it went on and he decided to speak up.

“Oh, come on Eddie! Just let her play her music!” Jonathan interjected from the couch and Y/N shook her head in agreement.

“See, Jonathan is fine with my music!” she said with a pleased smile.

“Jonathan is high as a kite, I could put on whale sounds and he’d think it was the greatest thing ever made.” Eddie replied.

“Hey!” Jonathan protested before Nancy spoke up.

“Eddie, it’s her turn to pick the music for the party, you don’t get to control it just because we’re having it at your place.” Nancy said.

Eddie looked back to Y/N. She put her bottom lip out in the most pitiful pout she could manage, batting her eyelashes for good measure. He stared at her for a moment, trying not to think about what those big pleading eyes would look like under him, begging for release.

“Fine, I yield, my lady.” Eddie finally said, giving a little bow and a flourish towards the cassette player, using the same medieval-style voice he used in D&D. It was a flirting tactic he used often because the character she played in his campaigns was a princess, and Eddie was nothing if not thoroughly dramatic.

“Oh, thank you Eds!” She squealed in joy, grinning from ear to ear as she pounced into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing a grateful kiss on his cheek.

He returned her embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist until he had to pull away so she wouldn’t feel a certain appendage of his that was rising to the occasion in his pants.

 “I never can resist that lovely pouty face of yours.” he said with a charming smile and she blushed deeply before turning around to the cassette player.

She slipped a Hall & Oates tape in and hit play, the opening notes of “Maneater” booming from the speakers. She began to sway her hips to the beat, dancing as she smiled at Eddie, victorious. He shook his head, unable to stop himself from smiling. He took another swig of his beer as she danced, taking the opportunity to let his eyes rake over her body and thoroughly appreciate what he saw. She had taken off her heels almost as soon as she had arrived, preferring to traipse around the carpet of the trailer barefoot—not that Eddie minded in the slightest—as it allowed her to dance more freely. She was wearing a low cut blouse and a short skirt and as she moved around, her breasts bounced in her top, glimpses of her ass visible through the ruffles of her skirt. A knock on the door roused him from his thoughts of what she’d look like without all the clothes and he called out that it was unlocked, the door opened and Robin and Vickie coming in.

“We’re dancing already?” Robin exclaimed and pulled Vickie closer to the stereo, joining in as Y/N laughed.

“Thanks for the help Robin!” Steve said sarcastically as he stepped through the door, three pizza boxes with a few packs of beer on top in his arms, his sunglasses riding low on his nose.

“You’re welcome, Steve!” Robin responded with a laugh.

“Looking hot tonight, baby!” Steve said shifting the weight onto one arm so he could give Y/N’s ass a playful smack as her walked by her.

“Calm down, Stevie! You only just got here!” she giggled and Steve smirked as he entered the kitchen.

Eddie downed what was left of the almost empty bottle and put it down as he pushed off the wall to join Steve in the kitchen area. Steve put the pizza on the counter, took off his sunglasses, and was sticking the beers in the fridge when Eddie walked in.

“We need to talk, Harrington.” Eddie hissed lowly.

“Yes, her ass felt spectacular.” Steve replied with a smirk.

“No, Harrington. I’m serious.” Eddie shot back.

“Me too.” Steve said with a chuckle and Eddie grumbled, leaning in closer.

“Dude, I’m losing my fucking mind right now.” He said as Steve finished putting the beers in the fridge and stood up to look at Eddie properly. “If I watch her dance like that any longer, I’ll be cumming in my jeans. We have to do something.”

“Munson, we agreed that if anything with her is gonna happen for either of us, she’s gotta be the one to start it. We can flirt as much as we want, but no matter how sexy she is, or how much we want her, we can’t be the ones to make the first move. We agreed, man!” Steve replied, popping the top off of a beer bottle and taking a swig. 

“Harrington, fucking look at her right now.” Eddie hissed, swiping the bottle from Steve’s hand and taking a large swig. 

Steve sighed, grabbing another bottle and popping the top off before peeking his head around the kitchen cabinets to look into the living room.

He watched her dance for thirty seconds or so and then turned back to Eddie, adjusting the front of his pants awkwardly. “Yeah, we need to figure this out—and fast! I can’t look at her in that top all night and not ask her to fuck me. One of us needs to drop out.” The pair silently looked at one another, waiting for the other to just give up but neither of them said a word.

“Let’s just pull her aside together and tell her we both want her and see who she picks. It’s not the smoothest move but at least it’ll end this.” Steve finally suggested when it became abundantly clear that neither of them were ever going to volunteer to step out of the running. “She picks whoever she picks and the other one, probably you, just takes the loss like a man and moves on.”

“You seem very confident that she’ll pick either of us. We drop a bomb like this on her and ask her to make a choice and she’ll freak the fuck out.” Eddie said. “She’s never been able to make snap decisions, even for things she feels strongly about, so even if she’s already interested in one of us, she’s gonna get so overwhelmed that she’ll choose neither of us.”

“Well, what the fuck are we going to do then?” Steve asked. “Only one of us can have her… and that’s if she wants us after all.”

“Harrington, you just gave me an idea.” Eddie muttered, his face growing into a grin. 

“Enlighten me then, Munson.” Steve huffed impatiently.

“We don’t ask her to choose.” Eddie said.

“I’m not following.” Steve replied.

“We tell her that we’re both interested in her and that we’d like to share a night with her. Together.” Eddie explained, Steve’s eyes widening in recognition.

“Are you suggesting a threesome?” Steve replied and let out a small laugh in disbelief as Eddie nodded.

“As long as we can get along and share, then she wouldn’t have to choose between us. If she says no, then at least she’ll know we’re both interested and she can act on that information later if she wants to.” he said.

“And if she says yes…” Steve trailed off as they grinned at one another. “Fuck, Munson, I could kiss you right now.”

“Save that energy for later, big boy.” Eddie joked with a wink, giving Steve a light slap on the ass as he walked out of the kitchen with a smirk.

Several hours and a pack of beer or two later, Nancy announced that she was going to take Jonathan home, the pair walking out the door to a chorus of ‘bye’ and ‘have fun fucking’. Less than thirty minutes later, Robin and Vickie had passed out, super drunk, cuddling on the couch together as Steve covered them with a blanket.

“And then there were three.” Y/N joked, lying on the floor with one of the couch pillows underneath her head.

“I’m gonna smoke, wanna join?” Eddie asked, his back leaning up against the wall as he sat on the floor.

“Drinking and smoking?” she asked, clutching a hand to her chest and pretending to be scandalized. “How positively devious of you!”

“Princess, I’m barely even tipsy.” Eddie replied.

“Fuck, me too. I could use some weed.” Steve said, sitting on the ground beside Eddie. 

“That’s two. Princess, care to join us?” Eddie asked.

From their viewpoint, they could see the side profile of her body, her head turned towards them, one knee bent up in the air. They could see the swell of her breasts with every breath and part of her skirt had hiked up, providing a tantalizing tease of her panties. Every curve and dip of her body was on display like a statue of Aphrodite from a museum in the flesh. Her hair was fanned out on the ground and her eyelids just a touch hooded by alcohol, her wide pupils gazing at them through her lashes. Her lips were pursed slightly as she considered his proposition and the boys couldn’t help but imagine what they would look like wrapped around a cock. Eddie moved his beer bottle to cover the growing bulge in his pants and Steve tried to stifle a groan into a cough, both praying she wouldn’t notice.

“I want to Eds, but I’ve only done edibles.” she said with a shy smile. “I’ve never smoked, I don’t know how.”

“No time to learn like the present.” Eddie said and she glanced over at the sleeping girls.

“Won’t we bother them?” she asked.

“They’re out cold, nothing we do is gonna wake them up.” Steve assured her.

“Maybe we should move somewhere else, just in case. Eds, can we smoke in your bedroom?” she asked and the innocent tone in her voice made Steve stand straight up and pretend he was getting another slice of pizza, just so he could hide his boner from her as he tried to calm himself down.

“If that is what you desire, princess, then we shall make it so.” Eddie replied, getting up and moving to stand by her feet, trying to ignore the sexy way she looked laid out below him, like a spread from a porno mag come to life.

He lowered his hand to her and just as she took it, he hauled her up to her feet quickly and then over his shoulder in one swift motion. Steve took one look at her gorgeous ass on Eddie’s shoulder and bit his fist to stop from making noise, his eyes telegraphing to Eddie that if he kept this up, he wouldn’t last long. Eddie only smirked at him, very pleased with himself. When she realized what he’d done, she playfully slapped at his back, her legs kicking up a little in fake protest. 

“Eds! I can walk to your room myself!” she laughed.

“But my lady, a princess requires a royal steed! Her royal feet must not touch the same ground as commoners such as us.” Eddie replied in his D&D voice and she giggled, rolling her eyes. 

“Lead away then, stable boy.” she said.

“Stable boy?” Eddie said in mock offense. “I’m at least a coachman.”

“Are we going to smoke or just stand here arguing until the sun rises?” she said.

“Ooo, bossy tonight, huh?” Eddie replied, giving her ass a light pat before he started walking towards his room, her giggles filling the trailer as they went.

“Stevie, can you grab the boombox please?” she called as they passed through the doorway to Eddie’s room. 

“Ye- uh yeah.” Steve croaked out, his voice cracking a little as he grabbed it and followed.

Eddie dropped her on to the bed and her body bounced once before coming to rest on the mattress, her breasts bouncing and her skirt flying up for a moment. With great difficulty, Eddie pulled himself away from staring at her jiggling tits so he could rummage through the drawers of his dresser for the metal tin he kept his weed in. The bed was in the corner of the messy room and Y/N sat up with her back on the wall, leaving room for Eddie and Steve on either side. Steve entered the room, setting the boombox on Eddie’s dresser before plopping down at the end of the bed against the wall next to her.

“Heads up Harrington!” Eddie called before he tossed the metal tin at Steve who caught it easily as Eddie headed over to pick a tape for the player.

Steve opened the tin up and began grabbing what he needed to roll some joints. Eddie put in an INXS tape he had just bought.

“Haven’t smoked to this album yet, it should be good.” he said as he turned around.

“What’s with all the handcuffs, Eds?” she asked with a smirk, gesturing at the hook on his wall where he kept a bunch of them.

“Oh, they can come in handy sometimes, no pun intended. The ladies seem to love them and I haven’t had any complaints from the guys either.” he said with a wink. It was an open secret within the group that both Eddie and Steve enjoyed men and women, although they were generally pretty quiet about it. “Why, princess? Are you curious?”

“Just asking.” she said casually.

“Well if you’d like to try them on to see how they feel, that can always be arranged.” he replied and she blushed.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you, lover boy?” Steve muttered, trying to keep his tone sarcastic and playful instead of revealing the jealousy he was feeling.

The boys made tense eye contact for a second but she didn’t notice because she was too busy reaching into the tin and pulling out a pipe to look at it curiously.

“How does this work?” she asked and Steve chuckled. 

“Just like a regular tobacco pipe, but with weed.” he replied.

“Can I try it?” she asked, looking over at Eddie with a smile.

“Whatever you want, princess.” he replied before walking to the bed and sitting next to her but with his back against the headboard so he could talk with her easily. “Steve and I are probably gonna share a joint though so we don’t have to keep repacking the bowl all the time.”

“My Stevie and my Eds playing nice and sharing something together? Voluntarily? Without trying to kill each other? Is the world coming to an end?” she questioned, surprised but pleased with their sudden cooperation.

“I think you’ll find that ‘Eds’ and I have recently realized our interests are aligned. We can play nice and share all sorts of things, baby.” Steve said, finishing rolling the joint and lit it, taking in a few puffs before passing it to Eddie.

To reach Eddie, he needed to lean over her. His head was near her chest as he stretched and she stopped breathing for a moment, just taking in his scent. He smelled faintly of hairspray, a scent that had become oddly comforting to her, lingering even as he pulled back. Eddie took a few puffs and then handed it back to Steve, leaning in as well. She could feel a few locks of his hair just barely grazing the bare skin on her chest and suppressed a shiver. His usual scent of cigarettes had invaded her senses and together with Steve’s hairspray were making it hard to think. 

Eddie sat back as Steve put some weed into the spoon-like end at the end of the pipe, explaining that it was called “packing the bowl” and she tried to rouse her thoughts back to the present. Steve leaned in to hold the pipe up for her and press a flame from his lighter under the bowl and Eddie gave her instructions on when to suck the air in, when to hold it, and when to let go, his voice low in her ear. 

As she blew out the last of the smoke, she heard him coo “There’s a good girl, you did it perfectly on your first try.”

She tried to ignore the way those two little words, just a simple “good girl” made her stomach flip, fanning the spark from deeper below until the desire was burning within her. She wondered if that was what his bedroom voice sounded like. They talked her through another one and as she exhaled, she heard Steve whisper in her ear, so low it was almost a growl.

“Doing so good, baby.” he said and she squeaked, trying to play it off as a cough.

Steve and Eddie knew exactly what they were doing to her, it was the same thing she had been doing to them all night, what she was still doing to them as she drew the phallic-looking pipe to her luscious lips and sucked in. Steve took another few hits of the joint and she watched as a single strand of his hair fell in front of his face, resting on his forehead. He leaned over again and passed it to Eddie, who brought it to his lips for a hit. He was taking a long drag when she found herself admiring how his mouth curled around the end and when he leaned his head back and let out a long exhaled cloud of smoke, she was struck by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his neck stretched ever so slightly. She was still staring when he finished the breath and his eyes caught hers upon him, a smirk growing on his face.

“Like what you see, princess?” he asked and her mind just stopped.

Suddenly, it was like someone had taken her brain and stuck it in a blender, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to explain why she had been watching him like that. She couldn’t exactly tell him that she had been staring at him because being this close to him and Steve was making her unbelievably horny.

“I…umm, I just… I was just…I-” she stammered out and Eddie smiled.

“It’s alright princess, I don’t mind your pretty eyes watching me.” he told her, moving closer until his lips were only inches from her face. “Steve and I have been watching you all night.”

“You… you have?” she asked, barely a whisper.

“Baby, Eddie and I have been trying to get your attention for a while.” Steve whispered into her ear, now hovering just over her neck and she shivered.

“We were in a bit of a competition, both of us wanted you but neither of us seemed to be getting anywhere.” Eddie said, his fingers reaching under her chin to turn her head back towards him. “It’s been so frustrating, wanting you so bad, hoping we could make you want us before the other could. Tonight we decided to put our differences aside and come clean with you.” 

“You want me?” she breathed out and Steve’s hot breath was back on her ear as her body instinctually leaned towards him.

“We do.” he said. “And we’re willing to share, if it’s what you want.”

Oh god, did she want it. Her mind was screaming at her to say something, to tell them just how long she had been waiting for one of them to make a move, how never in her wildest dreams had she imagined they’d both want her and especially not that they’d want her together. She wanted to tell them how many times she had collapsed into her pillows with her hand between her legs thinking of them. But her mind felt like jello and all she could do was suck in a breath. Steve’s fingers inched along the skin of her thigh, Eddie’s dancing lightly on her arm, only further scrambling her thoughts with the finger-light touches. She closed her eyes, unable to do anything but feel and want and burn.

“Come on princess, I know I’ve been thinking about it all night.” Eddie said, still so close that she could almost feel the tip of his nose on hers. “The tentpole in Steve’s jeans assures you he’s thinking the same thing. And the way you’re squeezing your legs together so hard they might turn red makes me pretty damn sure you’re thinking about it too.”

“If you don’t want this, we can leave and pretend it never even happened. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.” Steve said, lips ghosting over the skin of her neck. “But if you say the word, you can have us, baby. Whenever you want. Wherever you want. However you want. One at a time… at the same time…”

She gasped and her eyes shot open. She found herself staring straight into Eddie’s gorgeous brown eyes, darker than usual with lust.

“Oh, you like that idea, don’t you?” he asked, smirking. “Want one of us buried deep in that tight, wet cunt of yours while the other fucks your pretty little mouth?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, I do, I do…” she whispered and was rewarded with Steve’s lips on her neck, his hand finally finding hold on her thigh and she struggled to continue speaking as Steve attacked her neck with his skilled mouth. “Haven’t… done this… before. Not with… more than… one person.”

“That’s alright, princess.” Eddie assured her, his hand light on her cheek, his rings cool on her hot skin. “We can go slow. We’ll take real good care of you.”

Eddie’s lips crashed into hers just as Steve found the most sensitive spot on her neck and she gasped into Eddie’s mouth, quickly turning into a moan. She could feel Steve’s smile on her skin before he resumed to leaving a trail of hickeys on her neck and shoulder. One of his hands was gripping her thigh, the pressure keeping her grounded as the other hand splayed right in the middle of her back, pushing her closer to them. Eddie didn’t give up his assault on her lips, kissing her as if he needed it to breathe. One hand remained on her cheek, his thumb rubbing her cheekbone lovingly, a harsh juxtaposition of his mouth’s ferocity, his other hand resting on her chest, right on top of her heart.

“Wait.” She breathed out into Eddie’s mouth and suddenly their hands and lips disappeared from her skin, her body whining at their absence.

“If you don’t want to do this we can stop.” Steve said, his hazel eyes screaming his earnestness to her. “I told you we can pretend it never even happened if that’s what you want.”

“No! No, I really want to do this… but I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know how to do it.” she said, breathing hard as she watched them both pant, devouring her with hungry eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll be any good.”

“Oh princess, you’re already good at it.” Eddie said with a smirk and she blushed, her self doubts and anxiety beginning to melt away.

“We want you to be sure this is what you want. That it’s your decision, even with the weed and alcohol in play.” Steve told her and neither of the boys were expecting the firm reply she gave.

“I had one beer a few hours ago, I’m not even buzzed. And as for the weed, I’m pretty damn sure I’m in my right mind.” she said and the boys smiled. “So how do we start?”

“Maybe Steve and I should show you what to expect.” Eddie said, turning to look at Steve.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Steve said. “Let’s get her a front row seat.”

Eddie smirked and got off the bed as Steve led her by the hand to sit in the chair that Eddie pulled up next to the bed.

“Don’t be afraid to ask questions.” Eddie said as he and Steve sat back on the bed, facing one another. “It’s an interactive presentation.”

The boys smiled at one another and leaned in, their lips meeting softly at first, then slowly building in intensity. Steve had one hand on Eddie’s cheek, the other on his waist as one of Eddie’s hands came up to cradle the side of Steve’s neck, the other surging downwards. Steve groaned into Eddie’s mouth as his hand found the bulge in his pants, pressing against it firmly. His hand continued to palm Steve’s junk as he began to suck on Steve’s neck with the same ferocity Steve had for hers. Steve’s head fell backwards and he moaned, his eyes closing in pleasure as Eddie left what would probably be a very large hickey on his neck.

It was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. Better than the dirty magazines she had found hidden under her mom’s bed, better than any scene in a porno, better than anything she had ever imagined about them. Her hands flew in between her legs, as if the pressure or the friction of rubbing up against her arms could relieve the fire in her loins. It only made it worse. Her eyes flicked to the handcuffs on the wall, considering all the delicious possibilities and when her eyes returned back to the boys, they met Steve’s eyes, smirking at her as Eddie continued his movements on his neck.

“She’s looking at the handcuffs, lover boy.” Steve informed him quietly with a smirk, his gaze never once leaving hers. “Maybe we should show her how they work.”

Eddie pulled back with a wicked smile and a glint in his eye as he looked to her. “A fantastic idea. Take your shirt off and sit against the headboard, big boy.” he ordered, and Steve obeyed.

Before he went to grab handcuffs, Eddie stopped to press a brief but hard kiss onto her lips. “Because you’re being such a good girl watching us. Don’t worry princess, it’s almost your turn.” he said as his hand cupped her cheek lightly, his thumb tracing her mouth teasingly before he returned to the bed.

“Got a safe-word, stud?” Eddie asked.

“Red.” Steve replied before Eddie advanced. 

She could see only Eddie’s back for a moment, hearing the distinct clicks of the handcuffs locking but then he sat back on his haunches and she took in the delicious sight before her. Steve had a hand cuffed to both of the far posts of the headboard, stretching out his arms and putting his well-defined muscles on display. Steve looked at her and although he was the one handcuffed, she was the one who felt tied down by his intense gaze. He smiled at her and she felt her stomach flip once more.

“For my next trick, I’m going to need an audience volunteer.” Eddie announced dramatically before setting his eyes upon her. “How about you princess?”

She nodded and he smiled, reaching over and pulling her chair up against the bed in a swift motion. She was now close enough to touch them and she eyed the pair with anticipation, waiting for Eddie’s next order. 

“Doesn’t he look so pretty? All spread out like this and just itching for us to touch him…” Eddie spoke lowly and she kept her gaze on Steve’s restrained torso. “Go ahead and touch him, princess.”

Hesitantly at first, she reached out towards the top of his chest, near his collarbones and when just the very tip of one finger had grazed his skin, Steve bucked against his chains, holding on to them so hard his knuckles were turning white. His reaction spurned her on, her touches growing more bold by the second as she explored his body.

Her fingers trailed down Steve’s toned chest and through the patch of dark hair she had seen before when they had gone to the pool together. His breath hitched when she slid a fingernail against his nipple, catching it between her fingers and she repeated the movement on both sides a few more times. When he put his head back and groaned, she gave him reprieve, continuing on with a small but pleased smile. She stopped at each of the scars on his chest from previous adventures gone wrong and took an extra moment to skate the tips of her fingertips over the raised skin. 

“So beautiful…” she muttered, not even realizing she had said it aloud until she heard Eddie in her ear.  

“I agree. You’re doing such a good job playing with him but it’s time we stop teasing him and get to the main event, don’t you think?” he said and she nodded. “Unbuckle his pants and get his cock out for me, princess.”

Her hands continued on their journey and finally made it all the way down to the waistband of his jeans. Steve’s breath hitched, his hips bucking slightly when her fingers stopped on the button. She carefully undid it and unzipped his fly, biting her lip as she reached to pull down the waistband of his boxers, letting him spring free. 

She had often wondered what Steve’s dick would look like and she certainly wasn’t disappointed. She hadn’t seen too many dicks in person, mostly just in dirty magazines or the kinds of movies that were hidden behind a curtain in the rental store, but she knew enough to know Steve’s was larger than average, even only at half-mast. Steve had a smug and proud smile on his face and she looked to Eddie to find he was surprised but pleased by Steve’s cock.

“Not bad at all, big boy.” he complimented before leaning into her ear and whispering. “Get him hard for me, princess.”

She leaned over and pressed her lips to the head of his half-erect cock. Steve groaned, instinctively surging forwards before the cuffs pulled him back. She opened her mouth and let drool dribble down to coat his dick in a layer of slick spit. The tip of her tongue darted out and licked a bead of pre-cum off the tip of his cock.

“Oh, fuck!” Steve moaned and she smiled, continuing to rile him up by teasing just the head of his cock as his cock got harder and harder.

When he was fully erect, she carefully slid her hand down his length, moving so slowly and holding him so lightly that it was like torture, not allowing him the pleasure of release yet.

“Good girl.” Eddie whispered into her ear, his hand reaching out to guide her own in a few more slow and teasing movements. Steve bucked his hips desperately but Eddie simply pulled his hand and hers away completely. “Looks like he’s ready for me. Sit back and enjoy the show, princess.”

She followed his instructions and moved back to her chair although now she sat on the literal edge, as close to the bed as she could be. Eddie flashed a wicked smile before leaning down and pressing a feather light kiss to the tip of Steve’s cock.

“Fuck, please-” Steve choked out, rattling his chains, desperate for the torture to end. “Please, Eds I-” His plea was answered and cut off as Eddie began to take his length into his mouth.

She couldn’t see specifically what Eddie was doing with his mouth but from the lewd noises Steve was making, it apparently felt very good. Eddie raised his head up and Steve whined at the loss of his warm, wet mouth on his cock.

“Tell her how it feels, Steve.” Eddie ordered, in almost a growl. “Tell her what my mouth on your cock feels like. Tell her how it feels to have your hands cuffed to the bed and to be unable to do anything about it.”

“Fuck, it feels so good.” Steve whimpered, his words getting caught in his throat briefly when Eddie returned to his ministrations, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity like a dagger. “Oh baby, it feels so fucking good. I don’t have to be in control, I just have to trust Eds will take care of me. I love it, fuck, I love it.”

Steve was getting close, it wasn’t hard to tell. His hips bucked as much as Eddie’s hands would allow, the sounds of him pulling on the chains getting louder and more frantic as his cries grew louder too. He was begging Eddie over and over again, chanting “please let me cum, please, please, please Eds.”

“Cum for me, big boy.” Eddie moaned around around his cock and only seconds later Steve was screaming in pleasure as he came.

Eddie kept him there in his mouth, working him through the waves of ecstasy, milking his cock and swallowing every last drop. Steve was panting like he had run a marathon as Eddie pulled himself off of Steve with a wet pop. Steve leaned back against the head board, letting his body relax.

“Good boy.” Eddie purred as he reached up and unlocked the handcuffs, Steve’s arms falling to his side as he looked at her through hooded eyelids.

Eddie crooked a finger to her, beckoning her to join them on the bed. In one swift movement, he removed his shirt, throwing it onto the floor in a ball as her eyes raked over his body. He wasn’t as toned as Steve, he was more lean, and the only hair he had on his chest was a light treasure trail leading down into his pants. She knew that he and Steve had matching scars on their chests but seeing them at the same time only made it more clear just how identical they were. She also knew he had a lot of tattoos, she’d seen the ones on his hands and arms many times but this was the first time she got to see the ones on his chest more than just small bits peeking out of his shirt collar. He was beautiful and the colorful art dotting his skin only made him more attractive. He grinned when he saw her looking at him and let her hand trace the lines of ink for a minute.

“Alright princess…” he said lowly as he pulled her hand from his chest, his firm grip on her wrist. “It’s time to show Stevie how much you liked our little show. Go on and let him find out what it’s like to kiss and touch you. Put on a show for me now.”

She crawled up Steve’s body, his back still leaned against the headboard as she tentatively straddled his hips, hovering over his lap nervously. His hands instantly went to her waist and he pulled her down onto his lap, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. She had made out with people before but never with someone so hungry and deliciously rough. His hands moved her waist to roll a little, grinding his bare cock against her pantied pussy as her skirt rode up once more. The feel of his cock against her core, separated only by the thin fabric layer of her panties caused her to gasp against his lips, a moan quickly being smothered and swallowed by his mouth. Her hands hooked around his neck and into his hair, tugging lightly to earn a few pleased hums. 

“Get that shirt off of her.” Eddie ordered calmly, and she could hear his belt being undone and his jeans being unzipped.

Steve obliged immediately, yanking her blouse above her head and throwing it across the room, so quickly and expertly that his lips barely left hers. Eddie spit into his hand before beginning to stroke himself, a groan slipping out as he moved his fist up and down his length. Steve continued to grind up into her, one hand snaking up her back to undo the clasp of her bra as the other found hold on the back of her head, tangling into her hair.

“I didn’t say to take off the bra, Steve.” Eddie warned and Steve’s hand disappeared from the clasp, making her whine into his mouth as it found purchase on her hip. “Patience, princess.”

Steve’s length dragged against her clit and she felt like she was on fire. She took a hand from around his neck and slipped it behind her, needing to free her aching nipples from their torturous confines. Just as her finger grazed the clasp, Steve’s hand on her hip shot up and grabbed her wrist. His large hand encircled her wrist tightly and held her arm against her back.

“Eddie told you to be patient…” Steve warned, pulling away from her to meet her eyes, a smirk when he saw the desperation in her features. “Don’t be a bad girl. You owe him an apology.”

“I- I’m sorry Eds!” she said quickly, glancing over her shoulder to gaze at him as his hand increased in speed in jerking himself off.

“For?” Steve prompted, applying an infinitesimal amount of pressure on both her wrist and the back of her neck.

“I’m sorry for being a bad girl and not listening!” she cried out, shivering when Eddie laughed darkly.

“It’s alright princess, it’s a learning experience. Just don’t do it again.” he warned, holding her gaze intensely before flickering to meet Steve’s gaze. “How wet is she?”

Steve’s hand released her wrist but stayed on her back, a silent warning not to try unclasping the bra again. Her hand returned to snake around his neck, once more finding and hold on his hair. Steve removed his hand from the back of her neck, dragging it down the valley between her breasts before slipping under her skirt and pushing aside her panties. As his fingers ran against her slick folds, she leaned forwards, burying her head in his neck with a pathetic whine. 

“She’s fucking dripping.” Steve said before nipping teasingly at her ear, her face still nestled in the crook of his neck. “Aren’t you, baby?”

She nodded but this wasn’t good enough for Steve, his hand roughly cupping her pussy, his thumb tantalizingly close to her clit but not close enough to give her the release she sought. 

“I said… aren’t you, baby?” he growled as she cried out in surprise.

“Yes! Yes! Oh god please, I need it so bad. Something, anything, please!” she pleaded and was surprised to feel a spurt of warm ropes on her back, Eddie groaning as he came onto her.

“Reward her with a finger, big boy.” Eddie ordered, panting as he came down from his high and within seconds one of Steve’s fingers slipped into her cunt.

Her walls clenched around it, desperate for more as he languidly pushed it in and out, curling it slightly to hit a spot that made her see stars. She vaguely registered Eddie wiping his cum off of her back with a piece of cloth, probably one of his many bandanas. She cried out and arched backwards, thrusting her tits into Steve’s face when suddenly she felt Eddie press his chest against her back. His breath was hot on her ear and she whimpered. 

“Good girl.” he cooed and she keened into his touch as much as she could. “It’s my turn to play too now.”

She couldn’t see it but Eddie held up two fingers with a smirk and Steve grinned wickedly. A second finger penetrated her and she panted as he continued his torturously slow ministrations in and out. Eddie’s hands went to unclasp her bra, finally, and he tossed the offending garment to the side. Cool air teased her heated breasts for only a moment before Eddie’s hands clasped around them firmly. A lewd moan fell from her mouth as his fingers rolled and squeezed, kneading the flesh and teasing her nipples. His hands continued their assault on her breasts as his mouth began on on her neck, deftly finding the spot that made her cry out. 

The sensations were all too much and yet not enough. Steve’s hands in her pussy, Eddie’s on her breasts, their mouths on her lips and neck, but no relief was given to her aching little bud, taunt with need. Steve was purposefully ignoring her clit, succeeding in making her more desperate for him to touch her there with every passing moment. Slowly, she slipped a hand down and was inches away from her fingers brushing against her clit when Eddie’s hands left her breasts and grabbed her wrists, wrenching them behind her back and away from where she wanted them. She whined and could feel Eddie’s smirk against her skin, shifting to whisper into her ear.

“Bad girl. Steve didn’t tell you that you could do that, did he?” Eddie asked lowly and when she didn’t respond, too overcome by the feeling of Steve’s fingers curling inside her, he moved her wrists to one hand, the other snaking around to the front of her neck and applying just a little pleasure, growling “I said, did he, princess?”

“No.” she moaned and his hand disappeared from her neck, moving somewhere behind her. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, she felt something cool against her wrist and a loud clicking noise. She gasped as she realized that Eddie had just cuffed one of her wrists with the handcuffs.

“This alright, princess?” Eddie asked, voice firm in his dominance yet with just the edge of softness as he checked in with her.

“God yes!” she moaned out and Eddie clicked the other cuff onto her other wrist.

“Oh, you like them that much, huh?” Steve asked, feeling her clench around his fingers at the sound of them locking.

“Yes, fuck, I love it.” she cried out, testing her bonds as Eddie let go of her wrists but they held fast.

With her hands trapped uselessly between her back and Eddie’s chest, she had to just feel them playing with her, their hands and mouths all over her body, bringing her closer to the edge but never all the way.

“What a dirty girl… a dirty girl who likes having her hands bound together like some kind of slut.” Eddie taunted and his words touched something deep inside of her.

“Fuck, Eds. She liked when you called her a slut, she squeezed my fucking fingers like a vice.” Steve groaned and Eddie chuckled.

“Give our slut another finger as a reward.” he ordered and Steve obeyed, smirking when she gasped at the stretch of another finger added to her wet, hot cunt.

“God, she feels so good Eds, I can’t even imagine what she would feel like on a cock.” Steve said through grunts as he continued thrusting up into her with his fingers.

“We won’t have to imagine pretty soon, big boy.” Eddie said. “If you’re a good girl and you ride Stevie’s fingers like a cock, Steve will play with that pretty little clit of yours and we’ll let you cum.”

She moaned at the challenge before bucking her hips, intent on riding Steve’s hand like a cowgirl on a bull at a rodeo. She put every bit of effort she could into moving her hips and she was rewarded when Steve placed his thumb on her clit. A few small swirls and she was on the edge, begging the boys to let her cum. Eddie gave her permission and suddenly she was coming, her walls clenching down on Steve’s fingers as she threw her head back onto Eddie’s shoulder and cried out in ecstasy. She continued riding him through the shockwaves of pleasure and felt a little disappointed when it ended. He removed his fingers from her cunt, bringing them to his mouth to taste her cum as she panted.

“She tastes delicious.” Steve said with a smirk that made her shiver before holding out his fingers to Eddie. “Want a taste?”

“Oh I do, but I think I’m gonna get it straight from the source.” Eddie replied, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“What are we gonna do with her now, lover boy?” Steve asked him as he brought his fingers to her mouth and slipped them inside for her to taste herself. “All tied up with no where to go, isn’t that right baby?”

She moaned a yes as best as she could with his fingers in her mouth, the taste of her own arousal only heightening the pleasure. The muffled sound went straight to their cocks and Eddie’s face lit up with an idea.

“What would you say to a gag, princess?” Eddie asked and Steve removed his fingers from her mouth. “Be honest if it’s not something you want.”

“What kind of gag?” she asked in anticipation.

“I have a ball gag around here somewhere but if thats too much for your first time we can just do a cloth gag. I have plenty of bandanas.” Eddie answered.

“Can we try the cloth gag?” she asked, her innocent yet intrigued tone making him smile (and making his cock twitch).

“Of course, princess. Steve, can you get her hair out of the way?” Eddie said as he pulled his favorite bandana from his back pocket and although it was phrased as a question, Steve knew it was an order.

“Yes, sir.” Steve said, gently brushing her hair from her neck and pulling it all up with one hand. “Open up, baby.”

She opened her mouth obediently and watched as Eddie slowly placed the bandana between her teeth and pulled the ends together at the back of her neck.

“Is that too tight?” Eddie asked and when she shook her head, he tied the ends off and Steve released her hair, covering it.

“You’re always beautiful but you look even more lovely like this.” Steve told her and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

“Alright Harrington, we need to huddle up and make a game plan.” Eddie said and she whined as he began to move away. “It’s just for a moment, princess.”

Once Eddie was clear, Steve carefully lifted her off of his lap and laid her down on the bed on her back. His weight disappeared from beside her and she turned her head to the side to see the two of them moving to the far end of the room, Steve tucking himself away. When they reached the far wall, they stopped and leaned into one another, whispering too low for her to hear, especially with the music still playing quietly and them so far from her. She watched them, both shirtless with only their jeans still on, a sight that made her press her legs together in need, despite having just orgasmed.

After what felt like an eternity of planning, they returned to the side of the bed, smirking down at her with her hands tied underneath her in only her skirt and panties and a bandana gagging her. Steve reached down and stroked the side of her face, chuckling when she leaned into his touch.

“Are you ready for the next part of the show?” he asked and she nodded vigorously. “Good girl.”

Eddie pulled her upper half off of the bed and held her up as Steve took his place sitting against the headboard again, taking his pants off so that he was only in his boxers. Steve pulled her from Eddie’s arms and nestled her to sit between his legs, leaning back on his chest. The way they handled her so nonchalantly yet still careful, like she was a precious doll, reignited the fire in her core. Eddie took off his pants to reveal his briefs before kneeling on the bed in front of her. He reached around and un-cuffed one of her wrists before pulling them both up over her head, re-cuffing them so her hands were bound behind his neck, stretching her out.

“Don’t pull on these too hard or you’ll hurt Stevie, alright princess?” Eddie asked and she nodded.

Steve lifted her hips up as Eddie pulled off the skirt and panties, leaving her completely naked, all of her bare for their hungry eyes. Eddie spread her legs and groaned at the sight of her pussy laid bare before him. Putting her head down in embarrassment as her cheeks heated, she tried to close her legs but was stopped by Eddie’s hands keeping her thighs spread.

“Are you shy, princess?” Eddie cooed and she nodded. 

“Do you want us to stop?” Steve asked and she shook her head. “Can you knock on the wall behind us?” She answered with a few knocks on the wall. “If you want us to stop, knock on the wall in groups of three, alright?” She nodded.

“You’re so beautiful.” Eddie told her, fingers stroking her wet folds delicately.

She shifted against Steve’s chest and whined, trying once more to close her legs. Eddie gave a light smack to her inner thigh.

“Bad girl! Am I going to have to tie your ankles to my bedposts to get you to stay put?” he scolded and she looked away in embarrassment. “Oh that’s it, isn’t it? That’s what you want. Usually I wouldn’t reward bad behavior but this is a special circumstance.”

Eddie leaned over to a dresser drawer and pulled out two lengths of black rope. Carefully, he lifted one of her feet and tied the silky rope around her ankle. He pressed a light kiss to her calf before pulling her leg down to lay straight on the bed sheets between Steve’s spread legs. As Eddie secured the rope to the bed post and moved to repeat his actions with her other leg, Steve began to lazily drag his fingers across her breasts. He let his nails lightly rake on her nipples, teasing her in the same way she had teased him. She gasped through the gag and squirmed in his arms as he continued his ministrations. His lips moved to her ears and she shivered when she felt his hot breath against her skin.

“What, baby? You don’t like it when you get a taste of your own medicine?” He murmured in a low growl and she could practically hear his smirk. “Guess you can dish it out but can’t take it.”

Eddie finished her other leg and sat back on his haunches to admire his work, Steve stopping his teasing so she would be still for him. Her glistening cunt was laid bare before him and his eyes shone with excitement. Her cheeks heated under his attentive gaze and she averted her eyes away in embarrassment. She felt completely exposed with her legs spread wide open and the silky rope that wouldn’t relent to her tugging, she couldn’t close her legs to staunch the self-doubts that began to pop up. Eddie and Steve were far more experienced than her and had probably seen far prettier girls’ bodies. Every imperfection of her physique suddenly felt mortifyingly unattractive and for a moment she considered tapping out so she could throw on her clothes and run away in shame. She could feel the tears gathering in her eyes as she imagined how hideous she must look to them, every curve, line, and mark mocking her in her head. Suddenly she felt Eddie’s hand on her cheek, gently pulling her attention back to him.

“What’s wrong? Do you want to stop? There’s no shame in that, princess.” He said softly and her heart flipped at his earnestness. 

She shook her head. 

“Are you feeling self-conscious?” He asked, Steve’s fingers trailing comforting circles on her sides.

She nodded, eyes shimmering with vulnerability.

“Oh princess, you have nothing to be self-conscious about. You’re fucking stunning. I’ve never seen anyone who looks so beautiful naked as you, except for perhaps Steve.” Eddie assured her and she smiled, tears of comfort and joy pooling in her eyes as Steve chuckled behind her. 

“I’ve been wondering what you would look like without clothes forever and never in my wildest dreams did I even come close to how gorgeous you are right now.” Steve said in her ear and she craned her neck up to look at him, admiration shining in his eyes. “So just lay back and let us worship you the way you deserve.”

As soon as he finished speaking, her attention was drawn back to Eddie gently stroking her folds with skilled fingers covered in those god-damned rings of his. He teased her for a minute or two, simply admiring her pussy as he hummed some rock song, paying no attention to her squirming or mewling. Her handcuffed hands right at the back of Steve’s neck grasped onto his hair and tugged on it in pure anticipation, needing to feel grounded to him as Eddie inspected her. When Eddie felt he had admired her cunt properly, he dove in and began to eat her out. She gasped out through the gag in relief and felt Steve’s chest rumble with a chuckle behind her, his hands roaming her skin until they found purchase teasing her breasts deliciously.

“Thought I wouldn’t get you back for that, did you?” He whispered in her ear and she keened, lost in the sensations caused by both boys. “Think you can tug my hair and play with my nipples and I won’t take advantage when I get the chance? Eddie may be in charge of the both of us tonight but right now, I’m in charge of you, baby.”

It didn’t take long for her to reach her second orgasm, not with Eddie’s lips on hers and his tongue coaxing her to the edge as Steve played with her tits like a violin and whispered dirty things into her ear. She came hard as Eddie looked up at her, grinning like a mischievous devil from between her thighs.

“Good girl.” Steve cooed in her ear as she rode out her pleasure, breathing hard through the gag until Steve removed it, tilted her chin up towards him and captured her mouth in a breathless kiss.

“Ready for the finale?” Eddie asked, pressing soft kisses to the inside of the thighs.

“So ready!” She replied with a wide smile.

A blur of movement later and her restraints were removed, Steve helping her stretch out her limbs as Eddie grabbed condoms and lube.

“Get on your knees.” Eddie ordered and she complied as the boys removed their underwear and she saw that they both had long cocks almost the same size except that Eddie’s was a smidge girthier. 

“How do you wanna do this, baby?” Steve asked her, stroking his gorgeous cock. “Where do you want us?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to do anal, at least not yet, but I don’t have a preference for who goes where.” She replied, gazing hungrily at them.

“Dealer’s choice, then.” Eddie said with a smirk. “Steve, you’ve been such a good boy tonight following my instructions, I think you deserve to pick.”

“I want her pussy.” Steve said, smiling when she blushed and shivered under his intense gaze.

“Are you still sure you want this?” Eddie asked her as he passed a condom to Steve, who began to put it on. 

“I’m sure, damn it! Just fuck me before I lose my mind!” She said before realizing herself an adding as an afterthought “…please.”

“Mouthy girl, such a brat.” Steve commented and Eddie chuckled as he stepped towards her, gently gripping her chin to look up at him

“Normally, I’d punish an attitude like that but you’ve been so good for us tonight and it’s a special occasion so I’m going to overlook it… for now.” He said, a dark and sexy look in his eyes as she nodded. “Hands and knees for the big finish, princess.”

She got into position as Eddie moved in front of her and Steve behind her, groaning when she wiggled her ass a little.

“Spank her if she does that again.” Eddie said, tapping her lips with his cock until she opened them and he slipped in.

She was so distracted by Eddie’s cock in her mouth that she almost forgot Steve was lining himself up until he slid into her wet cunt. Eddie chuckled when she moaned around his cock. It only took a few moments until they began to move, quickly setting a deliciously brutal pace. The boys were seemingly naturals at it and for a moment she wondered if they had ever actually shared a partner before with how practiced they seemed to be at anticipating one anothers moves. She-d never been fucked so fast and rough, bouncing between their cocks in a rhythm that made her feel better then she ever had before.

“Fuck, princess, suck just like that!” Eddie exclaimed, his fist wound around some of her hair just enough to be felt but not hard enough to hurt.

“You feel so good, baby.” Steve moaned, throwing his head back as his hands gripped her hips tighter allowing him to thrust into her even deeper. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“You don’t come until she does so if you want it, you’d better help her along.” Eddie commanded and Steve moved one hand off of her hips and snaked it between her legs.

His fingertips quickly found her clit and it wasn’t long before she was clenching onto his cock with a loud moan as she came.

Steve and Eddie’s hands were the only things keeping her up, her body feeling like jelly as her orgasm hit. Eddie unraveled next, shooting his load into her throat and coaxing her through swallowing it.

“Good girl.” He panted and she felt her pussy clench around Steve’s cock, those two little words inadvertently causing her to help bring Steve to orgasm.

“Fuck, baby!” Steve groaned, his hips stilling against hers as he rode out his high, her pussy clenching around his as if to help milk every last drop.

They all stayed there for a moment, the boys catching their breath. Eddie was the first to pull out, wiping droplets of cum from around her mouth as she slumped forwards and he led her down to lay on the bed. She groaned as Steve carefully removed himself, disposing of the condom before helping her place her head on the pillow. 

Very sated from orgasming three times in one night, she reached out and latched onto Steve, needing physical contact. She heard Eddie murmur something to Steve about caring for her but she couldn’t comprehend his words with how euphoric she felt. Steve laid down with her and held her, stroking her hair and whispering about how well she did while Eddie helped clean her up. Even in her haze, she felt something was missing.

“Stevie, I want Eds too…” She whined into Steve’s chest.

“You heard her, get over here.” Steve said, pulling both himself and her towards the edge of the bed to make room for him.

“What the princess wants, the princess gets.” Eddie replied, settling in on the other side of her.

“My boys…” She sighed contentedly, drifting off to sleep from her post-orgasmic haze nestled snugly between Steve and Eddie’s bodies.

She awoke the next morning with her head on Eddie’s chest and Steve spooning her, his arm draped around her waist and his hand on Eddie. She smiled, feeling truly happy there with her boys.

“Morning princess.” Eddie said, his voice gravelly with sleep.

“Morning Eds.” She said, unable to contain her smile.

“I take it you had a good time last night.” He commented with a smirk.

“I did.” She said simply, gathering the courage to ask the question on her mind. “Eds… do you think you and Stevie would be alright with doing it again sometime? I don’t want you to think I’m indecisive or selfish, I just really like both of you. A lot.”

“Steve and I were talking about it last night after you passed out and we came to the conclusion that we’re both so head over heels for you that we’re willing to share if that’s what you want.” Eddie said and she felt like a weight was lifted off her chest. “Besides, Steve and I may have something deeper than just competition going on, we’ve just been too distracted to see it for what it was.”

“So, the three of us against the world?” She asked.

“Always, princess.” Eddie replied, pulling the comforter up to cover the three of them more fully and placing a kiss on the top of her forehead.

They were almost back asleep when the door swung open, revealing a very sleepy and apparently hungover Robin who looked very surprised to see them. Her eyes went wide with realization and shock at Eddie and Y/N, not even noticing Steve as he was covered by the comforter.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I thought this was the bathroom door!” Robin exclaimed, shielding her eyes before adding with a huge grin “...but also this is fantastic, Dustin owes me so much money!” 

With impeccable timing, Steve raised his head from behind Y/N’s body and sleepily said “I don’t think you’ll be making any money today.”

“I just learned way more about your love life than I ever needed or wanted too and now none of us are winning the bet.” Robin replied, a mix of shock and disappointment on her face as she turned to leave. “I’m going to go bleach my eyes… and my brain.”

She slammed the door behind her and all three inhabitants of the bed began to laugh. They sunk into a comfortable silence, content with each other’s quiet company.

“Robin was wrong.” Y/N said assuredly.

“Hmm?” Steve hummed in confusion.

“She said no one won the bet. But she’s wrong, the three of us won it.” She replied and Steve laughed.

“I agree, princess.” Eddie added with a fond smile, holding his two lovers close to him.

[book--brackets]

The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater (2012-2016)

Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue never sees them--until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks to her.

His name is Gansey, a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble.

But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can't entirely explain. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul whose emotions range from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher who notices many things but says very little.

For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She doesn't believe in true love, and never thought this would be a problem. But as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she's not so sure anymore.

Shades of Magic by V. E. Schwab (2015-2017)

Kell is one of the last Antari--magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black.Kell was raised in Arnes--Red London--and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see.

Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they'll never see. It's a defiant hobby with dangerous consequences, which Kell is now seeing firsthand.

After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure.

Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they'll first need to stay alive.

The Witcher by Andrzej Sapkowski (1992-2013)

For over a century, humans, dwarves, gnomes, and elves have lived together in relative peace. But times have changed, the uneasy peace is over, and now the races are fighting once again. The only good elf, it seems, is a dead elf. 

Geralt of Rivia, the cunning assassin known as the Witcher, has been waiting for the birth of a prophesied child. This child has the power to change the world -- for good, or for evil. 

As the threat of war hangs over the land and the child is hunted for her extraordinary powers, it will become Geralt's responsibility to protect them all. And the Witcher never accepts defeat. 

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones (1986-2008)

Sophie has the great misfortune of being the eldest of three daughters, destined to fail miserably should she ever leave home to seek her fate. But when she unwittingly attracts the ire of the Witch of the Waste, Sophie finds herself under a horrid spell that transforms her into an old lady. Her only chance at breaking it lies in the ever-moving castle in the hills: the Wizard Howl's castle.

To untangle the enchantment, Sophie must handle the heartless Howl, strike a bargain with a fire demon, and meet the Witch of the Waste head-on. Along the way, she discovers that there's far more to Howl--and herself--than first meets the eye.

In this giant jigsaw puzzle of a fantasy, people and things are never quite what they seem. Destinies are intertwined, identities exchanged, lovers confused. The Witch has placed a spell on Howl. Does the clue to breaking it lie in a famous poem? And what will happen to Sophie Hatter when she enters Howl's castle?

The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher (2000-2020)

As a professional wizard, Harry Dresden knows firsthand that the “everyday” world is actually full of strange and magical things—and most of them don’t play well with humans. And those that do enjoy playing with humans far too much. He also knows he’s the best at what he does. Technically, he’s the only at what he does. But even though Harry is the only game in town, business—to put it mildly—stinks.

So when the Chicago P.D. bring him in to consult on a double homicide committed with black magic, Harry’s seeing dollar signs. But where there’s black magic, there’s a black mage behind it. And now that mage knows Harry’s name…

Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie (1911)

Peter Pan, the book based on J. M. Barrie's famous play, is filled with unforgettable characters: Peter Pan, the boy who would not grow up; the fairy, Tinker Bell; the evil pirate, Captain Hook; and the three children-Wendy, John, and Michael-who fly off with Peter Pan to Neverland, where they meet Indians and pirates and a crocodile that ticks.

The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov (1966)

One hot spring, the devil arrives in Moscow, accompanied by a retinue that includes a beautiful naked witch and an immense talking black cat with a fondness for chess and vodka. The visitors quickly wreak havoc in a city that refuses to believe in either God or Satan. But they also bring peace to two unhappy Muscovites: one is the Master, a writer pilloried for daring to write a novel about Christ and Pontius Pilate; the other is Margarita, who loves the Master so deeply that she is willing literally to go to hell for him. What ensues is a novel of in exhaustible energy, humor, and philosophical depth.

Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples (2012-present)

When two soldiers from opposite sides of a never-ending galactic war fall in love, they risk everything to bring a fragile new life into a dangerous old universe. Saga is the sweeping tale of one young family fighting to find their place in the worlds. Fantasy and science fiction are wed like never before in this sexy, subversive drama for adults.

The Farseer Trilogy by Robin Hobb (1995-1997)

Young Fitz is the bastard son of the noble Prince Chivalry, raised in the shadow of the royal court by his father's gruff stableman. He is treated as an outcast by all the royalty except the devious King Shrewd, who has him secretly tutored in the arts of the assassin. For in Fitz's blood runs the magic Skill--and the darker knowledge of a child raised with the stable hounds and rejected by his family. 

 As barbarous raiders ravage the coasts, Fitz is growing to manhood. Soon he will face his first dangerous, soul-shattering mission. And though some regard him as a threat to the throne, he may just be the key to the survival of the kingdom.

Earthsea Cycle by Ursula K. Le Guin (1968-2001)

Ged was the greatest sorcerer in Earthsea, but in his youth he was the reckless Sparrowhawk. In his hunger for power and knowledge, he tampered with long-held secrets and loosed a terrible shadow upon the world.

This is the tumultuous tale of his testing, how he mastered the mighty words of power, tamed an ancient dragon, and crossed death's threshold to restore the balance.

[incorrect-koh-posts]

Masterlist of KoH-related Novels

Below you'll find a list of every novel I know of that is set in the same period as Ridley Scott's Kingdom of Heaven (2005), covers at least some of the same events and features some or all of the historical figures that also appear in the film. The list will be updated occasionally as I work my way through. Enjoy!

✷ English-language novels & novels available in translation

1879: Lady Sibyl's Choice (Emily Sarah Holt) -> thoughts

1937: The Leper King (Zofia Kossak, originally published in Polish) -> thoughts

1954: Knight Crusader (Ronald Welch)

1965: The Wandering Unicorn (Manuel Mujica Lainez, originally published in Spanish) -> thoughts

1969: The Knights of Dark Renown (Graham Shelby) -> thoughts

1989: Alamut (Judith Tarr)

1991: The Dagger and the Cross (Judith Tarr)

1992: Pagan's Crusade (Catherine Jinks)

1996: Jerusalem (Cecelia Holland) -> thoughts

1998: The Book of Saladin (Tariq Ali)

1998 - 2000: Arn the Knight Templar series (Jan Guillou, originally published in Swedish)

The Road to Jerusalem (1998)

The Knight Templar (1999)

The Kingdom at the End of the Road (2000)

2004: Crusader King (Susan Peek)

2006: Sand Daughter (Sarah Bryant)

2007: The Leper Crown (George Morgan)

2009 - 2021: The Magdalen Cycle series (Scott R. Rezer)

#1: The Leper King (2009)

#2: The Pawns of Sion (2015)

#3: The Gambit Queen (2021)

2011: The King's Witch (Cecelia Holland)

2011 - 2013: Saladin trilogy (Jack Hight)

Eagle (2011)

Kingdom (2012)

Holy War (2013)

2011 - 2023: The Last King of Legends series (Serafia Cross)

#1: The Kingmakers (2011)

#2: In the Face of Trials (2012)

#3: The Sovereign Gambit (2015)

#4: The King's Last Deeds (2023)

2012 - 2017: Outremer Chronicles series (Peter Tolladay)

#1: The Templar's Apprentice (2012)

#2: The Harsh Mistress (2014)

#3: The Thorn in the Crown (2016)

2014 - 2016: Balian d'Ibelin series (Helena P. Schrader) -> thoughts

#1: Knight of Jerusalem (2014)

#2: Defender of Jerusalem (2015)

#3: Envoy of Jerusalem (2016)

2018: Templar Silks (Elizabeth Chadwick)

2018 - 2020: The Brotherhood series (K. M. Ashman)

#1: Templar Steel (2018)

#2: Templar Stone (2019)

#3: Templar Blood (2020)

2018 - 2023: Watchers of Outremer series (Suzannah Rowntree)

#2: The Lady of Kingdoms (2019)

#5: The House of Mourning (2023)

2020: The Leper King (Peter Busby)

2020: The Land Beyond the Sea (Sharon Kay Penman) -> thoughts

✷ Non-English novels not available in translation:

1959: L'Étoile de Pourpre (Serge Dalens & Pierre Joubert, French comic)

1999 - 2017: Die Templerin series (Wolfgang & Rebecca Hohlbein, German)

#3: Die Rückkehr der Templerin (2004)

#4: Das Wasser des Lebens (2008)

#5: Das Testament Gottes (2011)

#6: Das Band des Schicksals (2017)

2002: Thibaut ou la Croix Perdue (Juliette Benzoni, French)

2007: Las Lanzas de Jerusalén (Georges Bordonove, Spanish)

2019: Die Assassinin (Alexandra Cavelius, German)

✷ Tangentially related:

1946: mentions of KoH characters in The World is not Enough (Zoé Oldenbourg)

1997: Queen of Swords (Judith Tarr), about Baldwin's grandmother Melisende

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Random Names

Part IX

A list of random names that I’ve come across to give you some variety for your next characters.

Ilona (f)

Zélenya (f)

Sandeep (m)

Arne (m)

Gaby/Gabbie (f)

Laurenz/Laurends (m)

Somaja (f)

Minho (m)

Halima (f)

Phineas/Finneas (m)

Frederika (f)

Ylvie (f)

Zita (f)

Kilian (m)

Yumi (f)

Wasja (f)

Ayla (f)

Henning (m)

Joelle (f)

Ylva (f)

Taemin (m)

Mirza (m)

Priska/Prisca (f)

Käthe (f)

Helias (m)

Şeyma (f)

Mona (f)

Kiarash (m)

Theodora (f)

Salvatore (m)

More names!

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[softsnzstuff]

Hello!! My birthday is on Wednesday and I was wondering if I could humbly request a Bucky snz fic ?? 🥺💞💞

Hi friend!!

Happy Early Birthday!!!

((Im a little bit swamped the next couple of weeks since @dontfeeltoohot is visiting this week, then my niece comes into town next week for my birthday too and after that I’m moving ☠️))

BUT nonetheless I would be honored to provide a short little Bucky ficlet for your birthday! It’s not much but I hope you enjoy 😭 ~KB

*~*~*~*~*~

A little college AU Stucky drabble for you

*~*~*~*~*~

Bucky sighed and finally closed the book he was “reading”. He’s been staring absent mindedly at the pages for several minutes now, letters and words swimming together in his brain.

He couldn’t seem to shake the headache and brain fog that had settled late last night along with the kind of congestion that leaves your nose stuffy and runny at the same time.

Bucky sniffled, bringing the back of his wrist up to his nose as he scrunched it.

“H’etSCHIEW! … g’iSHuhew!”

“Bless you!”

The longer haired man turned to look up, Meeting eyes with his boyfriend.

“Hey Steve.”

The blonde sat down across from Bucky at the library table.

“You okay? You sound like you’re getting sick.”

“Feel pretty crummy, but… snFF midterms are coming up. Gotta study.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, knowing his boyfriend could be stubborn.

“Well, it doesn’t look like the studying is going that well.” Steve teases, eyeballing the closed book on the table. “How about we grab some takeout and watch tv? You can rest all you need.”

Bucky considered briefly, “Can we get Chinese?”

“Only if you let me get you some sizzling rice soup.” Steve smiled.

“Aright Rogers. ii’gSHUU! You’ve got yourself a deal.”

[timotey]

Ficlet: (Not Just) For His Benefit

The Sign. Phaya/Tharn. Future fic, h/c. Unbeta'd.

That day, you see, Tharn almost died on the job, right in front of Phaya’s eyes.

(Yet another excuse for smut. What can I say, I'm a simple gal. Please, excuse all possible mistakes, my allergies are draining me of energy.)

***

Phaya insists on taking Tharn home. To his house. To his bed. 

And Tharn says, gently and soothingly, “Okay. Alright, Phaya, whatever you want.” He gives in, he goes because he’s afraid that Phaya might fall apart otherwise.

That day, you see, Tharn almost died on the job, right in front of Phaya’s eyes, and it rattled Phaya to his core.

They were chasing after a suspect, running down a busy walkway, and Tharn was close at the man’s heels, Phaya having split to cut the guy off, when the man suddenly and unexpectedly whipped around - and pushed Tharn right into the oncoming traffic.

Phaya, who in that very moment appeared at the mouth of a nearby alley, saw it all. And could do nothing but watch. 

Tharn reacted quickly and managed to jump back but he wasn’t fast enough to clear the way fully. A car clipped him, throwing him up in the air and over the hood. Tharn hit the pavement hard but luckily his training took over and he bounced and rolled, absorbing the impact, his leather jacket saving him from bad scrapes. Still, it hurt!

There was a scream, loud and horrified - it was Phaya, Tharn realized later on - and the next two or three cars missed Tharn’s head by mere inches. And when he finally rolled to a halt, he just laid there, gasping through the pain. Because he ached all over and his ears were full of white noise.

When he was finally able to breathe in properly and open his eyes, Tharn saw Phaya kneeling by his side and leaning over him, looking pale and absolutely distraught. His hands were fluttering just above Tharn’s body, needing to touch but afraid to hurt Tharn even more. 

“--arn? Tharn?” Phaya was yelling and slowly, his words seeped through the thumping hush in Tharn’s ears. 

“‘M okay,” Tharn groaned, straining to sit up. He would've rather remained lying, at least for a little while, but that was not an option, not on the road and not with Phaya looking at him like that. “Help me up?” he asked, reaching out for Phaya.

Gently, as if Tharn was made of glass in danger of cracking, Phaya helped him stand, taking most of his weight when Tharn wobbled a little because his head did spin. And hurt. Something was in his left eye and when Tharn blinked and rubbed at it, his fingers came off bloody. Oh. He reached up to find where–

“Don’t,” Phaya grabbed his wandering hand. “Don’t touch it. You hit your head. Got a big scrape there.” His voice was hoarse and breaking a little at the end. And then he led Tharn away from the road and back onto the walkway where he helped him step over their culprit whom he, apparently, knocked out with a single punch. Well.

Most of what happened afterwards was rather blurry in Tharn’s mind. He got off lucky, with no broken bones, but his head thumped and he felt a little sick to his stomach - which he did not tell Phaya or he would’ve freaked out even more - and his left cheek and the left side of his forehead, actually the whole left half of his body, burned and ached. 

And so he left others deal with… stuff, Phaya and Yai, who arrived shortly after. But mostly Yai because Phaya refused to leave Tharn's side after sitting him down on a nearby bench. Which was fine with Tharn because he really needed to lean against someone, against Phaya, when it finally sank in what just almost happened. 

A trip to the hospital was a must and Tharn simply let himself be pushed and pulled and prodded and scanned and tested because any kind of a protest or objection would require way too much energy. 

So. That happened.

Now he’s standing at Phaya’s car in the hospital parking lot - someone must’ve brought it here because he clearly remembers Phaya riding in the ambulance with him (and, really, was that necessary?) - and there’s a stark white patch on his forehead and another one high on his left cheek and Phaya has Tharn’s painkillers in his pocket and he’s insisting on taking Tharn home, to his house, to his bed and no arguments, Tharn!

And Tharn says, “Okay. Alright, Phaya, whatever you want.” He’s patting Phaya’s chest while he’s saying this, a soft tap-tap-tap right over his heart that he can feel galloping a mile a minute even several hours after the incident. He’s looking up at Phaya, into his eyes that are a little too wide and a little too wild and still slightly panicky. 

Tharn realizes that he needs to do something or Phaya will crack. Phaya is the strongest and bravest person Tharn’s ever known but when it comes to Tharn, he's surprisingly, shockingly fragile. 

So when they arrive home and Phaya helps Tharn out of his clothes - which is a slow and painful process in itself that has Tharn grinding his teeth and Phaya hissing in distress as more and more bruises all over Tharn’s body are revealed, dark red splotches that are already turning purple, hints of might-have-been had Tharn been a little less lucky that day - and Tharn is left standing there in nothing but his boxer shorts, he looks up at Phaya and asks softly, “Make love to me?”

Phaya's eyes widen and he draws in a sharp breath. “What? No! You’re injured.”

Tharn reaches up and strokes Phaya’s cheek, loving the way Phaya takes his hand in his and leans into the touch. “I’m alive,” he says gently. 

He needs Phaya to know that, to truly grasp that. That Tharn is here, that he’s alive, that he didn’t die on him, that he isn’t going anywhere, that he isn’t leaving him. And words are not enough to convey all that. He needs Phaya to feel it, to feel him. It’s not about being horny or simply wanting to get off, it’s about reassuring Phaya that he’s still here.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Phaya croaks out, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against Tharn’s palm, fighting with himself but weakening. Because he needs this and Tharn knows it. He knows Phaya.

Tharn smiles. “You won’t.”

And Phaya gives in because he wants to. He wants to so bad.

He makes love to Tharn, as gently as he ever did, laying Tharn down on the bed, tenderly making him comfortable on his right side, the one least hurt, least bruised and aching, and he kisses him all over, every tiny scrape and every contusion, lavishly showering him with care, his lovemaking heartrendingly close to a worship.

Tharn’s loving it, being loved like this, with so much affection, and even though he initially planned this for Phaya's benefit, giving himself over to him like this, Phaya’s care and attention and pure love are now making Tharn feel… so much. He wants. Tharn just-he just… wants. 

He wants so much - everything! - and so badly that he has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning out aloud - Phaya loves it, he knows, when Tharn loses himself in his need and lets Phaya hear his pleasure but Tharn’s still shy about it, about letting himself be heard, be known like that, even after all this time. And so he shuts his eyes tight and bites his lip and fists his hand into the bed sheet as heat courses through him, making him hard.

Phaya bends Tharn’s left leg a little and moves it forward, giving himself access, and then he takes his time preparing Tharn, sweetly torturing him, drawing out every stroke, every push, letting his fingers dance lightly over Tharn’s spot, again and again - until Tharn finally breaks and a soft moan escapes his lips. 

It’s what Phaya has been waiting for.

When Phaya enters him, it always feels like their first time, like something new and wonderful, no matter how many times they do this. Tharn will never, ever get used to the feeling of being filled and possessed, of entrusting himself to his lover. Phaya moves in and in and in, slowly, carefully, giving Tharn time to adjust, and Tharn pulls at Phaya’s left arm, and draping it around himself, he entwines their fingers and presses their hands against his own heart, letting Phaya feel its frantic rhythm, sharing this moment with him as best as he can.

Phaya nips at his shoulder and his neck, peppering him with butterfly kisses, and he whispers into Tharn’s ear, “I love you so much.” 

Their lovemaking is languid and slow, they barely move, just feeling and letting themselves be felt. The peak is not the goal here, the act itself is, the renewal of the connection between them. It’s hot and sweet and almost overwhelming, slow kisses and slow thrusts and slow strokes, the build-up of their climax gradual and unhurried.

When they reach their release, they arrive at it together, Phaya makes sure of it, stroking Tharn and tipping him over a moment before coming himself. It’s a quiet thing, almost reverent, and for a long, long while they just lie there, in each other’s arms, Tharn still feeling Phaya inside, their left hands entwined once more, Phaya caressing Tharn’s throat with his right, running his thumb across Tharn's jaw, and breathing raggedly into his hair.

“I thought I lost you there for a second today,” Phaya finally says when their hearts settle down again, Phaya's own beating slow and calm for the first time since the incident, since he was forced to watch Tharn get hurt, helpless to do anything about it.

And Tharn replies, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls Phaya’s right hand up and plants a soft kiss in his palm.

“Alright,” Phaya sighs, and drawing Tharn even close, he kisses his head and his ear and every part of him that he can reach. “Alright. I will hold you to that.”

Smiling sleepily, Tharn whispers, “Do.”

[5poder]

Moderna inaugura en Madrid su primer laboratorio de calidad fuera de EEUU para desarrollar vacunas ARNm

La compañía Moderna ha inaugurado en Madrid su primer laboratorio de Ensayos de Calidad de Vacunas ARN mensajero fuera de Estados Unidos. Un paso decisivo donde se muestra el interés de las grandes farmacéuticas por España, uno de los principales países donde más ensayos clínicos se llevan a cabo del mundo. Este Centro Internacional de Excelencia Analítica, el primero que testará sus vacunas en…

[polkamokachika]

G, M, O and U for the ask game ! I let you pick the fandoms :3c otherwise for a suggestion mayb do one for hssh if possible hehe

Hiiiii! :3 I'll do a few for HSSH with my limited knowledge !! G - I've had a few! The first one I think I can remember was probably something like Sailor Mars / Venus? It's been awhile so I don't remember for sure.

M - Arne.... or Grette.

O - Endorphin by Alice Schach and the Magic Orchestra! From the HSSH cast I'd say umm Maya comes to mind? But of course I haven't seen much of her in the main game....

U - HSSH - Securett or Arne. Hard to put into words but they make me feel warm inside, I guess?

EO - The Overlord. I could have done something easy and gone w Seyfried or Wufan but unfortunately I have a lot of thoughts about the Overlord. All the time.

7th Dragon - Yuma or Emel. I'm really predictable with the types of male characters I tend to like... and Emel is just really good. Especially going through the PSP games and learning more abt her after VFD.....