#sofa set with center table

[craftedproducts]

How a Center Table Makes Your Sofa Set the Star of Your Living Room

Your living room is a place where you entertain your guests, relax after a long day at work, and spend quality time with your family. It is the heart of your home and the center of all your indoor activities. When designing your living room, the sofa set is one of the most important pieces of furniture. It is the focal point of the room and sets the tone for the entire space. However, it is the center table that complements and completes the sofa set, making it the star of your living room.

A center table is a table that sits in the middle of the seating area in your living room. It is a functional piece of furniture that provides a surface for you to place your drinks, snacks, and other items while you relax on your sofa set. However, it is much more than just a functional piece of furniture. A well-designed center table can add to the aesthetic appeal of your living room and make your sofa set stand out even more. It can tie the room together by creating a focal point and adding a sense of balance to the space. With so many different styles, shapes, and sizes to choose from, you can easily find a center table that complements your sofa set and enhances the overall look of your living room. Plus, with the added convenience of having a surface to place items, you can enjoy your time in your living room even more.

1. Center that table for style!

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2. Sofa star? Add table power!

Are you tired of your sofa set feeling lackluster and unimpressive? Want to give your living room a boost of style and functionality without breaking the bank? Look no further! Adding a center table to your sofa set is the perfect way to make it the star of your living room. Whether you have a traditional wooden sofa set or a modern teak wood sofa, a wooden center table or a teak wood center table from aakriti.store can tie the whole look together. Not only does it add a touch of elegance, but it also provides a practical surface for drinks, snacks, and decor. Don't settle for a boring living room - add a center table and watch your sofa set shine!

3. Table's turn to impress!

Table's turn to impress! Your sofa set is the star of your living room, but it wouldn't be complete without a center table to match. A wooden sofa set with a teak wood center table is the ultimate combination of elegance and style. Not only does it add a touch of sophistication to your decor, but it also serves a practical purpose as a place to rest your drinks, snacks, and books. At aakriti.store, we have a stunning collection of wooden sofa sets and center tables made from the finest quality teak wood. Whether you prefer a classic or contemporary look, our handcrafted pieces are sure to impress your guests and elevate your home decor game. So, let the tables turn and impress your guests with a wooden sofa set and center table from aakriti.store!

4. Center stage for center table!

If you want your sofa set to be the star of your living room, then you need to give it center stage with a wooden sofa set with center table! A wooden sofa set is a classic piece of furniture that adds warmth and beauty to any living room. And when you pair it with a wooden center table, like the ones available on aakriti.store made of teak wood, you take your living room to a whole new level of style and sophistication. A wooden center table not only adds aesthetic appeal but also serves as a functional piece of furniture where you can place your drinks, snacks, and books. Aakriti.store has a wide range of wooden sofa sets and teak wood center tables that will transform your living room into a space that you'll love spending time in. So, make sure you give your sofa the attention it deserves with a wooden sofa set with center table from aakriti.store!

5. Transform your living room today!

Are you tired of looking at your boring old living room? Do you want to transform it into a space that's not only comfortable, but also stylish and inviting? Look no further than a sofa set with center table from Aakriti.store! Our wooden sofa sets, made with premium teak wood, are the perfect addition to any living room. And with our selection of wooden center tables and teak wood center tables, you can create a look that's uniquely yours. Don't settle for a dull living room any longer. Transform it today with Aakriti.store!

In conclusion, a center table can be the secret sauce that makes your living room a showstopper. Not only does it add functionality, but it also enhances the aesthetics of your sofa set. With a variety of designs and materials to choose from, you can customize your center table to match the style of your sofa and the overall theme of your living room. So why wait? Elevate your sofa set to stardom with a center table that will make all your guests go "wow"!

[aarsun]

luxury Sofa

[rebelfell]

game night

eddie munson x bisexual!reader x lesbian!chrissy cunningham

18+, MDNI 2k

Just a saucy blurb taking place in the universe of this story.

cw: MFF, platonic!hc, oral (f receiving), handjob, use of a dildo, allusion to pegging, polyamory? sort of kind of?

The steady ticking of the egg timer on the coffee table felt about a million miles away.

You could still hear it, but barely registered the time it was counting down.

Truthfully, all you could think about right now, all that you could focus any of your attention on, was Chrissy’s hot tongue as it laved over your clit in time with her fingers curling inside of you.

She had draped herself across the chaise of the sectional sofa, letting her newly dyed locks spill over the edge like a chocolate waterfall. With an eager smile and shining eyes, she had beckoned you forward and positioned you over her with your knees on either side of her head.

You let your heat hover over her lips and leaned back, supporting yourself with your hands so as not to drop the full weight of your body on her, but also so Eddie’s view wasn’t obscured.

Jury was still out on whether that was actually a kindness to him or not…

“You sure you only set it for ten minutes?”

From the other side of the room, Eddie made a huffy and miffed little sound through his nose as he shifted in his seat, subtly tugging at his sweats in an attempt to offer himself a little bit of relief.

“Don’t…haaaah…don’t be a sore loser, Ed,” you scolded gently, a teasing smile on your lips as you winked at him from your seat on Chrissy’s face.

She had flown into Indianapolis on Thursday for a business meeting and decided to take a few extra days off to make a long weekend of it—ostensibly staying in your spare room, although she’d been there for two nights already and the guest bed still had yet to be slept in. As per usual.

The past few months, she’d been volunteering more and more for these sorts of work trips. And whenever she did, you and Eddie would drive up and either stay the night in whatever lavish hotel suite her company set her up in, or drive her with you back to Hawkins for longer stays.

Vibrations rippled across your pussy lips as she hummed excitedly beneath you and her fingers slipped from their spot inside your core to wrap her lithe arms around your thighs, tugging you closer so she could lick deeper into your heat.

The moan it drew out of you made you toss your head back and Eddie’s eyes narrowed, lit with a combination of lust and envy.

“This is bullshit,” he muttered, shifting again.

“It’s your own fault,” Chrissy chided, pausing the efforts of her tongue to tip her head and look at him. “Who goes all-in on a pair of twos?”

Eddie grumbled more, casting his eyes at the abandoned cards strewn across the coffee table.

The poker game started out with fairly normal betting, using leftover Halloween candy as chips, and all three of you joking over blush pink glasses of rosé while a shamelessly bubbly playlist poured out of the stereo speakers. You had gone out fairly quickly, perfectly content just to watch and listen while sneaking candy from their respective piles.

But once you dropped out, it didn’t take a minute for Chrissy and Eddie’s competitive natures to come out and to up the ante, as it were.

With their full piles of candy already pushed into the center, the two of them narrowed their eyes at one another over their cards, both shooting daring, challenging smiles at the other.

They agreed the winner of the next hand would get ten full minutes to do whatever they wanted with you—but any attempt of the loser to touch themselves would add more time to the clock.

A loud, high moan burst past your lips as Chrissy thrust her fingers back inside you and stroked that precious spot that had you seeing white behind your eyes. Your thighs shook against her cheeks that rounded as she grinned, relishing in the gush of your arousal around her fingers.

“Ooh, you like that don’t you, sweetie?” Chrissy cooed up at you and then tipped her head to look at Eddie again, shiny eyes dancing with mischief. “She’s kinda needy tonight. What’s going on, Ed? I hope you’ve been taking care of our girl.”

“I take care of her just fine,” Eddie assured, his sour look deepening as his cock twitched.

Chrissy shrugged and she returned to the task at hand while your eyes landed on Eddie’s—big and round and wet and pleading. He was milking that pathetic lost puppy angle for all it was worth.

Giving him a small smile, you cleared your throat to get Chrissy’s attention and her heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open, feeling the way that you shivered with delight when your eyes met.

You gazed down at her, the sight of her lovely face between your plush thighs and the way her seaglass eyes glistened as she peered back up at you making your stomach quiver and flip with excitement. With a steady hand that no longer trembled with nerves the way it had the first few times you’d done this with her, you reached out to brush your knuckles across the softness of her cheek that was still plump and hydrated from the facemasks you’d done the night before.

“Chris…can he play too?” you whispered, playing it up with a pout of your own. “Please?”

The plaintive lilt of your voice and the way your lashes fluttered at her as you asked sooo sweetly might have indicated Chrissy was the one running the show. But as you had learned in the last few months, there was little (if anything) you could ask for that she or Eddie would deny you.

She pursed her lips, taking a moment to reply like she was deep in thought before she broke out in a beaming smile, placing one last kiss to your puffy clit before unwinding her arms from around your thighs so she could shimmy out from under you.

The two of you smoothly swapped places so you were laid out on the chaise with your head at the end near the edge. Finally, you looked at Eddie and crooked your finger to beckon him over.

His eyes bulged in his skull and he nearly tripped over the footstool to his chair he got to his feet so quickly. Scrambling over to the couch, clumsily tugging his sweats to the middle of his thighs, his chest heaved with his panting breaths like the anticipation was actually killing him.

Chrissy giggled at the overeager display, slipping off the couch and disappearing down the hall.

“Areyousure?” Eddie asked, his words all running together as he kneeled in front of you, his hard cock bobbing at the level of your mouth.

You nodded as you reached out for him with your right hand, only to rethink it and extend your left instead. You could very nearly see the diamond on your third finger reflecting in his deep brown eyes as your hand wrapped around his length. And a strangled moan rumbled from deep in his chest, the sound dissolving into more breathy and desperate panting at the sight.

He loved watching the ring he’d given you glitter while you jerked him off.

A few slow, lazy strokes was all it took to have him leaking all over your hand, still painfully hard from watching you and Chrissy without being allowed to offer himself even a second of attention.

Rhythm holding steady, you stretched your neck to look at Chrissy as she emerged from the guest room wearing nothing but an intriguing smile and carrying a black silk drawstring bag.

From it, she produced a purple silicone toy and a bottle of lube. Your eyes widened at the sight, your abdomen tightening in anticipation as she brought it over to the couch and sat beside you.

It looked like a dildo, but a sort of double-ended one? It had a rounded bulb at one end shaped almost like an egg, tapering off and then flaring into a hump that would rest right on your clit. From there, it curved into a standard phallic shape of a shaft with a slightly enlarged head.

Chrissy squeezed some lube out onto her hand and thoroughly coated the bulb with it.

“This okay?” she asked, slowly rubbing the tip of the shorter end through your folds.

You pictured it in use—one end tucked snugly into your heat, the other sticking out between your legs. Chrissy sliding down on it sooooo slowly, the pressure building up inside of you like you were actually inside of her. Her hips rocking in that slow, leisurely pace she liked until it got to be too much and she had to go faster; had to grind her body into yours until you were thrusting your hips, pushing the toy deep inside her cunt until she cried out for you to make her come—

“Yes,” you whined, breathless as your mind filled with images so filthy you could hardly catch your breath. “Yes, I want you to ride me, please—”

Chrissy’s eyes gleamed, her gaze never dropping yours as she pressed the toy inside, making your mouth fall open in a gasp at the stretch.

Your folds fluttered around the bulb, sucking it deep inside while Chrissy made sure the other end was positioned correctly for her.

“You look so pretty with a purple cock, angel,” she cooed, dropping a delicate kiss to the tip that you swore you could actually feel.

You shimmied your hips, making the toy wobble slightly, gently batting Chrissy’s button nose with it and eliciting a delighted giggle from you both.

Above you, Eddie let out a low groan and the look on his face was nothing short of euphoric.

“Is, um…” he cleared his throat, a nervy sort of chuckle breaking through as his eyes followed the sight of your dick standing rigid between your legs. “Is that staying here, by chance?”

Your eyes met his and your brows raised almost to your hairline not with shock, but intrigue.

That’s new, you thought.

And seemingly reading your mind in the way he was so good at, Eddie’s lips curled upwards and he rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug.

As if to say, what the hell?

“Consider it an engagement present,” Chrissy tittered, squirting some more lube onto her palm and generously coating the shaft with it. “I’ll just take it for a test drive.”

Her eyes met yours and one of them closed in a slow wink, making electricity skitter down your whole body. You clenched around the end inside of you, humming as it pressed on your g-spot.

“You ready, angel?” Chrissy husked, her hand moving up and down your cock in the same unhurried pace yours was stroking Eddie’s.

Matching you stroke for stroke.

You nodded eagerly and then tipped your head backward to lock eyes with Eddie as you gave his cock a light and teasing squeeze, salivating at the thought of having his thick length in your mouth while Chrissy was bouncing on yours.

“How about you?” you asked him in a sultry purr. “You ready to watch me fuck her?”

And you thought you knew what Eddie might say. You thought he might come in close to growl something filthy in your ear about pounding her until she screams. Or whisper something soft and full of adoration about how sexy you were. Or whine pitifully about how much he needed you.

But Eddie said nothing. He just beamed down at you, chest filling with a surge of pride seeing you like this. Confidence just pouring out of you, your face glowing with it—completely radiant.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning over, his mouth meeting yours in a hungry, devouring kiss. The kind of kiss that said in no uncertain terms:

You’re mine. You’re mine and I fucking love you.

He kissed you until your lungs ached for air, until your chest was heaving and you gasped into his mouth trying to breathe. Until at last, you broke apart when you couldn’t restrain the moan that burst out of you when the toy began to vibrate.

Your mouth fell open as you looked down at the thing like it just split in two like a hydra head.

The buzzing between your legs rippled across your g-spot, making it so you could barely keep your eyes open—your firm grasp on Eddie’s cock tightening instinctively. Eddie keeled forward with a loud groan and his hand landed on the cushion next to your hip trying to steady himself.

“Oh,” Chrissy smiled, swinging her leg across you and gripping the toy’s shaft to position the tip at her entrance. “Did I not mention it did that?”

That got a breathy laugh out of you all.

And then, just as she had sunk fully onto your length, a loud ringing filled the air and all three of you looked to the table. The egg timer you had all forgotten about had finally gone off—waaay past the supposed ten minute limit. Eddie gasped as he pointed an accusatory finger at Chrissy.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

Ty for reading - love you, mean it! 🛼

[after-witch]

The Glass House [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: The Glass House [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: You get your period and Mahito wants to run a few tests.

Word count: 3465

notes: yandere, consensual relationship, reader is on their period, mentions of other people's torture and death, humiliation relating to period, Mahito being Mahito is his own warning

It’s not often that Mahito bothers with your bathroom. Only, in the past, when you’ve been in it--naked and wet and usually mid-shower, as he apparently finds it entertaining to see what noises you make each time he surprises you. 

(Once, after comparing him to the killer in Psycho, he’d demanded to then watch the film. ‘But I didn’t stab you and you didn’t bleed chocolate syrup,’ he’d said, simply, after the scene in question.)

Today, though, he’s decided that there must be something interesting in there, because he’s spent the better part of 5 minutes rummaging--you can hear the sound of items being moved--in the closet and, judging by the sound of rustling, he’s now fiddling with the trash can.

“Hey,” he says, finally sauntering out of the bathroom. When you turn to greet him, a sarcastic remark about having fun digging through the trash on your lips, your heart stutters. 

In return, Mahito simply blinks at you.

“What’s this?” He asks, dangling one of your used pads from his hand.

The smear of dried blood in the center of the white pad feels accusatory, out of its proper context in the trash can. A bit of toilet paper sticks to the end of it, remnants of the ball you created to cover up your mess. 

“Oh fuck,” you say, reflexively. “Put that down! That’s--it’s--”

“It’s blood,” he says, giving the pad a sniff. “Smells funny though. Why’s it in your bathroom? Why’s it on this thing? When did you get hurt? Why were you hiding it in the trash?” The questions come simply, nearly rapid-fire. He probably says them as he thinks them.

Your cheeks burn something awful by the end of his questions, and your answer comes out half-stuttered. “It’s--I didn’t get hurt. I’m on my period.” 

One of his fingers is stuck to the bottom of the pad, and he peels it off deftly, holding it closer as you wish you could snatch it from his hands and forget this ever happened.

“Oh,” is what he says, eventually, with a quiet hint of curiosity. “I guess I’m lucky then. I’ve been wanting to study human menstruation for a while now.”

The word study sticks to your chest, but you aren’t able to peel it away so easily. You don’t want him to study you; don’t want to be under his scrutiny in such an obvious way. It’s easier to pretend he knows about people, about humanity, when you’re firmly playing at something closer to a normal relationship.

As if anything about this was normal. 

“Can’t you study one of your… experiments?” 

Experiments. Oh, what a simple, inoffensive word for what they really are--you shake that thought away as easily as a mosquito, though it never truly leaves the room. 

At this, Mahito’s eyebrows raise, and the edge of a smile tickles his lips. 

“Oh,” he coos. “That’s awfully selfish to say, even for you.”

He closes the distance between the two of you now, and you don’t bother resisting when he gives your chest a poke--thankfully with the hand not currently holding your used pad--and encourages you to sit back down on the sofa.

“I want to see.” Simple and clear, like most of the things he says to you. His directness with you is something that does make him stand apart from most people. If he wanted attention, he told you so; if he wanted to be left alone, the same. There weren’t mind games with him or--or hell, if there were mind games, you were too stupid to notice them and that was just fine with you, because the alternatives of your past relationships had been far worse. 

“Why?” You ask, if only to delay the inevitable.

Mahito shakes the pad on his hand, smiling a little at the way it sticks, before he peels it off and sets it on the coffee table. He sighs. “Movies never show it. They always show the woman eating ice cream or screaming at her boyfriend or cuddling with pillows, but they never show what’s actually happening down there.”

You squirm without moving.

“It’s just blood.” Your tone stays flat, uninterested. If he thinks it’s boring, he might move on. “Nothing special about that.”

Mahito’s smile reminds you of an eel. 

“Then show me.” 

It’s not a request that you can parry off, so you don’t bother; instead, you spread your legs, pulling up your skirt so that Mahito won’t do it himself. You might just lose the garment entirely, if it was left up to him.

Mahito claps, then crouches down in front of you, getting far too close to your pad-clad underwear for comfort. He takes a sniff and you’d like to die on the spot.

He gives the pad a poke. 

“Why do you put this in there? What’s it called again?”

You close your legs a little--instinct--and he holds them open for you. It’s easier that way, you think. Easier when he takes control and you don’t have to fight your instincts. 

“It’s a pad,” you force out. “I put it there to absorb the blood.”

He tilts his head. “Why?”

Your nose wrinkles at the question. “So it doesn’t get on my clothes or everything I sit on.” A ghost of a memory pushes through your brain--blood stains on school bus seats and church pews--and you force it down.

Mahito tilts his head, and you think he’s about to ask what you’re thinking about, but instead he sighs and rests his head against the edge of your thigh.

“Humans are so squeamish.” His fingers reach up and climb up your leg, dancing on your inner thighs, towards the pad. You twitch--it tickles--and he smiles. “Does everyone use pads?” 

“No,” you say, as he grips the top of your underwear and begins to slide them down. You do move, now, but not to oppose him. It would be pointless. Instead you hike yourself up a little, so that your bare privates aren’t touching the couch. “Some people use tampons,” you finish, as if you’re not sitting here, hunched on your sofa, while a curse pulls down your underwear to get a look at what’s underneath.

Mahito glances up at you. He wants you to elaborate.

“A tampon is like a cotton stick, I guess? You put it up--there--and it absorbs like a pad. But from the inside.”

“Oh!” The edge of Mahito’s fingers play with the pad on your underwear. “I guess some of my experiments have been on their period, then. I wondered what those were.” He pouts, just a bit. “Maybe that’s why some of my experiments haven’t been working out right. I wasn’t taking menstruation into account.”

The thought has your stomach roiling. But you don’t want to talk about it. Don’t want to think about it--what Mahito does, when he’s not here, and how what he does is just as much a part of him as the moments when he’s snuggling with you in your apartment or fucking you into your mattress.

When you look back at him, he’s grinning.

“You’re squeamish, too. About my work.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Don’t worry. It’s cute on you.”

With that, he gives up all pretense, and peels the pad away from your underwear in one swift motion.

“What are you doing?” You ask, even though you know the answer.

“Keeping it.” He sets it next to the already used pad. In contrast, the pad he’s just peeled away still has mostly brighter red blood on it, rather than the dull, brown old blood from the bathroom trash can. “I want to see how long it takes for you to bleed through your underwear. And some more things,” he adds, casually.

Oh, you think. This is too far, too weird. It’s puncturing the bubble you’ve created around you and Mahito in a way you don’t like.

“Mahito, I am not--”

In an instant, his eyes are on you. It’s a look that says, “You are,” and your lips feel like they clamp shut without hesitation. Something low climbs into your stomach and takes root there. When your shoulders slump, defeated, he pats your knee in appreciation.

“We’ll have a slumber party this week,” he tells you, voice getting more giddy as he goes on. “For three days? Four? However long you bleed.” He stands up and begins to survey your apartment, but for what you don’t yet know. “I can get a lot of experiments done in four days.” 

You don’t have the heart--or the stomach--to deny him.

--

When you were thirteen, you once got your period in the middle of class. You didn’t know it until you leaned forward in your desk to get a closer look at what the teacher wrote on the blackboard--your needed glasses at the time, and didn’t yet know it--and one of the boys behind you let out a distinct tween boy guffaw, snickering just loud enough for everyone to hear: “Dude, that’s fucking nasty.”

And then you’d felt it--wetness clinging to the inside of your black pants. And you’d scooted back, looked between your legs, and there it was: a smear of red on the dull grey chair. 

You were too embarrassed to do anything but sit back down, cheeks so hot that you began to sweat, and listened as everyone behind you began murmuring about your period. You had wanted to die for almost two weeks, and for the rest of your school career, you wore a sweater around your waist just in case you started without warning. 

That incident, as life-defining as it had been, was not as embarrassing as what you’re going through right now.

“Mahito,” you mumble, voice thick from your tightened throat. “Is this really necessary?”

Mahito, seated at a folding table he’s hauled into the living room, glances up at you. You, naked as the day you were born and perched awkwardly on top of a porcelain bowl that Mahito had shoved underneath you.

“Which part? The bowl or you being naked?”

“Both,” you blurt helplessly.

Mahito smiles. It’s such a pretty, awful little smile. “The bowl is,” he admits. His eyes leer over your body, awkward as it must look right now. “I just like to look at you.”

God help you, you feel flattered; the warm flush in your skin tingles with the new emotion. Mahito’s praises never failed to make you feel like that, even in the midst of something like this.

Mahito abandons the table and squats in front of the sofa, peering in between your spread thighs at the bowl underneath. You squirm, and he smacks the inside of your thigh sharply. You stop moving.

“I thought it would come out faster.” His tone is soft, low. Detached to everything but mild curiosity. Like a child studying an insect in a chair. “But it’s more… oozing than anything.”

“Don’t call it oozing,” you say. 

Before he can answer, a timer resting on the folding table dings delightfully. Mahito doesn’t waste time and yanks the bowl out from underneath you, leaving you to land flat on the sofa with your bare ass.

“’Hito!” You whine. “It’ll stain!” Thoughts of having to get the smeary blood out of your couch override the desire to keep your whining to a minimum, lest Mahito get annoyed with you. But, you think, it doesn’t matter much now. He’s not even paying attention.

Instead, he whisks the bowl over to the table and places it on the scale to weigh.

He sighs out something like disappointment. “It’s not that much blood at all, really. I don’t know why women complain about it so much in movies.”

He wasn’t paying attention to your whining earlier, but he does hear your incredulous intake of breath at his words. He glances back at you, confusion written on his face.

“What? It really isn’t. Now, when someone loses a limb, that’s real blood loss. And it spurts out, instead of oozing.” He nods, affirming his thoughts to himself. “That would be something to complain about.” 

“It’s not just the blood,” you say, half absent. Your mind drifts to when and where and how Mahito might see someone lose an arm. Did he cut it off? Or another curse? Did the blood droplets spray over his face? Did the person die right away or--

While you were lost in thought, Mahito left his post at the table and returned to crouch in front of you, now sitting flat on the sofa despite the inevitable stains. 

“Go on,” he says simply, all the while pushing your thighs apart with his hands. There’s a bit of blood smeared on the inside of your thighs and he leans forward to give it a lick. The awful feeling nesting in your stomach bristles. 

“Don’t.” 

Mahito blinks up at you. “I want to,” is all he says, before he does it again. 

The look he gives you--Will you try to stop me?--is met with you dropping your chin, just in time to see him smile. He gives another lick. “Tell me what else makes you complain when you’re on your period.”

You think about the sneering boys behind you at school, the way one of them tapped you on your shoulder and said, voice full of glorified condescension, “Aren’t you even wearing a pad? That’s nasty.” 

Instead, you rest your hands on your naked stomach and murmur out the answers Mahito wants to hear.

“Cramps.” You swallow, forcing yourself to taste the ghost of your milkshake from lunch this afternoon and not the bile that wants to come up. “From the um, uterus contracting. It can hurt really bad.” 

One of the girls in the class discretely handed you a pad, but your embarrassment had been so awful that you pretended not to see her, even when she waved it in front of you. “What a bitch,” she’d murmured to a friend afterward. 

“Back pain,” you continue, voice cracking. “And you can get tired. You want to eat but can’t… or you don’t want to eat at all, sometimes. It’s just… a lot of stuff.”

Your body jolts when Mahito puts his hands on your stomach--he wouldn’t transfigure you, he’s said that, and you remember his words well. But it doesn’t stop you from imagining.

“Is that why women get angry when they menstruate?” The mild glare you give him is met with the most innocent of expressions. “What? It’s what all the movies say. Though the man usually gets hit with something after he says it.” He smiles, as if daring you to hit him. You don’t.

Instead, you keep talking. Maybe it’s a way to ground yourself. Maybe you just want to talk to fill the space where dead, disfigured women, corpses created at Mahito’s whim, exist.

“Your hormones can fluctuate.” You smile a little at the forced nostalgia. “Sometimes I get really upset over dumb things. Especially when I was younger. One time, I sobbed because my mom said she was going to get fast food for dinner and she changed her mind.”

Mahito rests his elbows on your thighs, digging into them harshly. His hair tickles your skin, and you wonder, idly, if he’ll get your blood on the silver strands.

“Do you want to cry now?” He asks, almost sweetly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Do you want to cry? No. You might, though, if things keep going the way they are. So you dig your teeth into your lip and shake your head.

“No. This is just… embarrassing, I guess.” To be naked. To be bleeding. To have Mahito sitting there, your blood on his tongue.

Mahito quirks his head, then scoots back to pry your thighs farther apart so he can get a better view of your bleeding privates.

“I don’t see why humans get so embarrassed about their bodies. It seems silly.” He rests his chin on his elbow for a moment, hums, then hoists himself up and returns to the table where he’s got a few used pads and the bowl still lined up. 

“Mahito?” You ask, while he’s tinkering with his findings. “Can I put my clothes on now. And a pad?”

“No,” he answers, voice light, without even looking behind him. “I need to put this inside you first.”

You do move to get up off the couch now, a pang of fear shooting through your stomach, but you stop when he turns around with a wrapped tampon held aloft. Where did he get it--the thought flickers, and turns into something more pressing: Why does he have it?

But you know the answer, don’t you?

“I don’t use tampons.” A useless thing to say, but you say it anyway.

He simply blinks at you, and crouches back down in front of you, parting your thighs like air.

“They’re uncomfortable,” you try, louder.

This time, he stops moving, and a little bit of hope flickers through you just long enough for him to furrow his eyebrows.

“But when I make my penis, it’s much bigger than this, and you don’t say it’s uncomfortable.”

Your mouth opens to answer, and your tongue sticks to the inside. It’s stupid to argue with him when he’s got his mind set on something. So you don’t.

When you don’t continue to complain, he nods, then unwraps the tampon and skims the back of the wrapper. At least he’s reading the damn instructions, you think, in the instant before he awkwardly shoves the tampon inside you--too rough and hard, and you whimper as it pinches  in an entirely awful way.

Mahito’s lips quirk. He checks the back of the wrapper again, tsks at himself, and pulls it out. This time, the insertion is less chaotic. It’s still sore, but no longer painful. Just… uncomfortable. 

“Aw.” He pats your thigh. “You did great. Let me start the timer!” He jumps up, hair swinging as he rushes to begin the timer for whatever phase of the experiment he’s on.

“Can I put some clothes on now?” Though you’re no longer hoping to avoid staining your sofa, it wouldn’t be awful to be a little less vulnerable in the moment.

Mahito taps his chin with his thumb, considering. Then he shakes his head. “I want you naked. But we can cuddle on your bed for this part, so you don’t get crabby!” 

There’s no time to voice a complaint or offense; he hoists you up, some of the blood that had smeared against your bottom rubbing off on his arm as he carries you into the bedroom. He doesn’t seem to mind; he simply plops you on the bed--fuck, your comforter--and hops on to wrap himself around you.

Silence stretches around you, even as he wraps his arms tighter and presses his nose against your neck.

“Are… we done after this?” You venture to ask, quiet and tired.

Mahito talks into your neck, cold breath--is it even breath?--ghosting your skin. “Oh, no. I have lots of things I’d like to find out this week.” You can feel his smile pressing into you. “You’re being very helpful, you know.”

“I am?”

Mahito hums against you, and sniffs your hair. His answer is so light and sweet, the contrast makes you feel a bit sick.

“Earlier, I’d considered just grabbing someone to experiment on instead, but since you’re being so sweet about everything, I figured I’d just use you instead.”

The dread in your stomach puffs up, its sodden hairs standing on end. 

“So you saved me from having to find at least one woman to test my questions on. Maybe two,” he adds, voice still light. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“Nice?” You ask, voice hollow.

Mahito presses a smooch to your neck. “Don’t most people feel nice when they do a good deed?”

A good deed, to stand in for women who might have otherwise died horribly. For women who would have spent their time not thinking about humiliating childhood period experiences but their families--their partners, their children, if they had them. 

A good deed to snuggle with Mahito, while miles away, someone was begging for death from underneath a mass of twisted flesh.

“I guess.” Your voice cracks, but it doesn’t bother him. You suppose a lot of things don’t bother Mahito and so often, you try not to let them bother you. 

He sighs against you, and presses his hands lightly where you’d laid them earlier to indicate your cramps. His fingers dully stroke against the spot, and you wonder what it would feel like for his fingers on you not to bring mild comfort and the growing tingle of affection--but terror and pain and fear.

You wonder, too, if Mahito ever thinks the same thing.

[lemoncrushh]

You're Never This Quiet

Summary: Harry has been quiet all evening and you wonder why.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1330

A/N: From my 2016 collection, based on a prompt given. Fluffy reader fic with a little bit of trepidation in the beginning.

You and Harry had been dating for two years. Actually, by this point, to say you were "dating" sounded a little silly and juvenile. You were in love. Simple as that. The way he treated you was the way you wanted to be treated, and you gave it back to him tenfold. Sure, it wasn't always easy. You'd had a few bumps in the road, some twists and turns. But to look back at your time together made you burst with pride. Nowadays, any celebrity romance that lasted more than a few months was not only shocking but commendable.

Tonight, you and Harry had gone to a party in Malibu. It was a casual affair on the beach, and like at most parties, you mingled with others throughout the evening, some people you knew, some you were meeting for the first time, but you always managed to circle back to each other. Harry would pull you close, kissing the top of your head before returning to his previous conversation, or perhaps walk with you to a nearby bar to get a refill on drinks.

This time, however, you noticed something different about him. Harry was never really one to stand still, always fidgeting if he wasn't chatting or telling a silly joke. Even if he was being affectionate with you, he wouldn't be serious for long before doing something like tickling you or commenting to others about how great you are. Tonight, he wasn't doing any of those things. Tonight, he was almost...quiet.

You watched him from across the room as he sat in the middle of a semi-circle sofa. For once he wasn't the center of attention. He sipped on his drink and nodded a few times, but you barely even saw his mouth move. A couple times you even saw him rub one of his palms down the leg of his jeans before switching his glass to his other hand and repeating. It was a little disconcerting to be honest, and you felt your stomach tighten. Someone said something to you, but you barely heard. Instead, you smiled politely and excused yourself.

"Hey," you whispered in his ear from behind the couch.

Harry nearly jumped up from his seat before turning to look at you.

"Oh, hey," he grinned when he realized it was you. "Come 'ere."

He gestured with his hand for you to sit next to him. You walked around the sofa and squeezed in. He gently took your hand and threaded his fingers through yours, making you feel a little more at ease. But you were still a little concerned.

"You okay?" you asked.

Harry nodded, giving your hand a little squeeze. But the fact that he swallowed hard was not lost on you. You knew something was up.

You continued sitting with him until his glass was empty and he set it down on the coffee table in front you. When he sat back and ran a hand through his hair, he leaned toward you to whisper.

"Wanna go for a walk?"

"Sure," you nodded apprehensively.

You knew your eyes had to be big as saucers and your heart was just about beating out of your chest as you followed him outside to the large deck. The summer wind hit you in the face, the temperature warm even in the late hour.

Heading toward the edge of the deck, you were surprised when Harry took the stairs and stopped at the bottom one.

"We're going on the beach?" you questioned as you saw him take off his shoes.

"Yeah," he replied, trying to roll up his jeans. "Although I probably shouldn't have worn these."

You giggled lightly, feeling odd that this was the first sign of humor he'd shown all night. You slipped off your own shoes, grateful to be wearing a sundress, and took his awaiting hand before stepping out onto the warm sand.

You cringed slightly at the sensation of sand between your toes. You waited for Harry to say something, expecting to hear his usual comedic comments, but still he remained silent. As you got closer to the ocean and the sand became more compact, you gingerly swung your connected hands between you, hoping to lighten the mood. When Harry looked at you and smiled, you felt your heart flutter.

"I love you," you declared bravely. It was something you said regularly now, but somehow his reserved personality tonight made you a little afraid to say it out loud.

"I love you, too," he echoed.

If Harry heard the loud breath you exhaled, he didn't acknowledge it. You continued to walk together in silence, sans for the crashing waves and the wind in your ears. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer.

"Is something wrong, Harry?" you inquired.

"No...why?"

"You've been pretty quiet this evening," you commented.

There was a slight pause before Harry said, "I have?"

You stopped walking then, releasing your hand from his.

"You're never this quiet, what's wrong?"

Harry turned to look at you, a mixture of worry and confusion on his face.

"Nothing's wrong," he blinked.

"Yes there is," you nearly choked. "C'mon, Harry. We've been together for two years. I know you. Something's up."

Harry bowed his head and ran his hand over his face.

"Yeah, it has been two years," he agreed.

You narrowed your eyes, now confused yourself, and also more worried than ever. Your stomach was now doing somersaults, and you swallowed and wrapped your arms around your middle to try to settle it.

"I...uh...was..." Harry took a deep breath, "trying to decide the right time to do this."

"To do what?"

You watched as Harry shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled something out, though you couldn't quite see what it was. But when he knelt down in front of you in the sand, taking your hand in his, you had to cover your mouth with the other to block the scream that was rising in your throat.

"[Y/N]," he said loud and clear, "I'm sorry I've been such a dope today."

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

"I'm so fucking nervous," he muttered before clearing his throat. "My love, will you marry me?"

That was when you saw the ring in his other hand as he held it up. It glistened in the moonlight, reflecting the colors of the night sky and the water.

"Harry!" you barely got out as the tears were already welling up in your eyes. "Oh my God!"

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

You half laughed, half cried. "Oh my God, yes!"

Harry grinned as he swiftly slid the ring onto your finger, giving it a kiss. Then he stood up, taking your face in his hands and kissing your lips.

"I'll make you so happy," he promised, his eyes twinkling.

"I know, baby," you nodded. "You already do."

He kissed you again, this time deeper and longer. Your fingers tangled in the back of his hair as you tried to get as close to him as possible.

"I love you so much," you murmured against his mouth.

After holding each other for a while, and much more kissing, you both decided to ditch the rest of the party. Instead, you continued to walk down the beach, hand in hand, as a newly engaged couple. The idea made you giddy when you thought of it.

When Harry suggested you walk up the beach and sit down for a while, you eagerly agreed. He put his arm around you, and you leaned into him, draping your arm around his bent knee.

"Sorry about your jeans," you said as you felt the wetness from the sand.

"What?" he wondered before realizing what you were talking about. "Oh," he laughed. "It was totally worth it."

You smiled as he nuzzled your neck.

"I'm sorry I was being so quiet," he added.

"It's okay," you assured him. "That was totally worth it, too."

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[natti-ice]

Hi lovely!

Could I ask for a Benedict fic where him and reader get pretty messy with the his paints? 💕🥹

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, nudity, sensual touching, kissing, implied sex (1k words)

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

You had met Benedict at a social event this past season and the two of you got on very well, any time you saw each other in passing you had to stop and make conversation. You felt at ease with him, he was so down to Earth unlike most of the uptight socialites of the city. You were very fond of him in general and it seemed he felt the same about you. Not to mention the fact you were also very attracted to him. He often spoke to you about his art and his passion for finding the beauty in life, he showed you his work book of sketches, all of random things he found beautiful even if most people don't.

Today on a casual stroll in the park, Benedict casually asked you if you would like to be the subject of one of his paintings, you had never thought of modeling before but it intrigued you. You were always curious on how people viewed you and this would show you his perspective of you, so you agreed. He brought you back to his studio and showed you some of paintings he had hanging around by artists that inspired him, then he lead you over to the center of the room where he had a large sheet of white paper spread across the floor. You assumed it was to protect his floors from any paint drippings but you were quite wrong.

"This is our canvas for today, my lady" Benedict smiles

You chuckle and furrow your brows a bit "I'm sorry what? Are you going to draw a life size version of me?"

"No, dear" he laughs softly "I'm going to paint with you. I want to use your body as a brush, if that's okay with you of course" he adds that last part in quickly to reassure you can pull out at any time. There's a sparkle in his eyes as he explains how he wants to cover your nude bodies in paint and roll around making an abstract design. "So, what do you say?" His voice is filled with hope, he desperately wants you to say yes.

You think about his offer for a moment, the thought of being naked with him excites you but also makes you very nervous. You have only known him a short amount of time but you trust him a lot, you nod with a soft smile "okay, I'm in."

"Excellent" he grins and claps his hands together once "you can get undressed while I prepare the paints." he gives you a comforting smile then turns around and walks to the back of his studio where he keeps his paint. You slowly start to undress, you feel the butterflies in your stomach intensifying as you shed each piece of clothing. Finally naked, you fold your clothes neatly and set them on a small sofa nearby. The window of the studio is cracked out letting in a soft breeze, you feel goosebumps grow on your bare skin and your nipples become erect.

A few moments later, Benedict came back carrying a tray with small cans full of paint "alright here we are-" he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you, his eyes wide in surprise as he takes all of you in "wow... you're absolutely breathtaking" his voice is so soft it's almost a whisper

You chuckle nervously, you feel your whole body start to heat up "um, thank you, sir" you wrap your arms around your body, very aware of how exposed you are. He steps closer to you and sets the tray on a small table, he picks up a can filled with red paint and holds it up to you.

"May I?" He asks for permission, you nod slightly giving him full access to your body. He dips two fingers into the paint and slowly runs them along your collar bone, it slowly starts to drip down your front as your body temperature melts the paint. He works his way down your body, streaking the red all over you, his fingertips ever so slightly graze your nipples sending a shiver down your spine. "Beautiful" he whispers softly before setting the paint canister down and began to strip his clothes off.

You watched him closely as each article of clothing flew from his body leaving him bare in front of you. He gripped your arm softly and turned you around, he slowly poured some of the paint down your back letting it cascade down your back. He presses himself against your back slightly, you can feel his breath tickling your neck as he began to place soft hot kisses along the side. He used one hand to rub the red all over your back, a gasp caught in your throat as his larges hands rubbed soft circles on your ass.

When he finished he turned you around to face him, he picked up a can of blue paint and handed it to you "now you do me" his voice soft but laced with something more sensual. You take the can and start to smear blue all over his body, trying desperately to avoid his intimate areas as best as possible even if it was staring right at you. Once he was blue from the neck down he gently took your hand and brought you down to the paper on the floor. "Lay back, darling," he instructed playfully "we're gonna roll around a bit" he chuckles before rolling on top of you, his arms wrapped around your body as he goes in for a kiss.

Things escalated quickly from there, paint began to adorn the paper as you two made love. Shades of blue and red mixed together leaving streaks of purple behind, hand prints of different colors could be seen throughout the paper. Moans filled the studio, there was also the occasional sound of paper ripping when things became too intense. When it was all said and done, Benedict framed the work and even put it up in a gallery. People always asked how he created such an abstract piece of art, he came up with a story of how he just started throwing paint at the canvas. Only you and him ever knew the truth.

Tags: @booknerdlife

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[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook wants you all for himself (and bam) and you buy him flowers.

> fluff, a little angst / wc: 2.8k

> warnings: jk gets pissed off at a guy who tries hitting on you T_T, making out!!

note: i couldn’t resist and here i am with the post-jungkook live effect [deep sigh] as always i hope you enjoy and i also hope you let me know if you did <333

—

standing infront of the door of your apartment, you struggle to unlock it with your fingerprint because of the paper bag you’re hugging to your chest and the small bouquet of red roses occupying your other hand. in the end, you decide to put down the paper bag on the cold tiled floor. you press your index finger on the rectangular pad above the numbers before turning the doorknob.

the familiar ringing of the door opening and closing make jungkook and bam comically perk up at the same time. the dog stands up by resting his front legs on the backrest of the sofa, tail excitedly wagging as he anticipates your arrival in the living room.

“hello, baby. i’m home.” you sweetly hum as you pad across the floor with your feet only clad in white socks after lazily leaving your shoes by the doormat.

jungkook isn’t even sure if you meant ‘baby’ as in him or bam, but that thought shortly gets pushed to the back of his mind when his confused doe eyes zoom in on the flowers you’re securely cradling.

relieving yourself of its weight, you finally set down the paper bag from the convenience store, sliding your phone out of the pocket of your sweatpants to leave it on top of the center table as well. bam jumps off the sofa sniffing loudly at the flowers, but you quickly raise your arm to put it out of his reach.

“no- no, bamie. you can’t eat this! this is for your daddy.” you tell him with a giggle, digging your hand into the paper bag to dish out the new toy you bought him.

“for me?” your boyfriend chips in to the conversation with a toothy grin, but his question is left unanswered as you squeeze the yellow fish to make it squeak.

the high-pitched sound makes bam hyper. he stretches out his front legs forward, leaning down on his elbows — a posture that usually indicates that he wants to play. you throw the toy into the air and it lands near his house. he runs after it not even a second later, nails clicking against the floor. he carries it in his mouth and jumps on the other corner of the couch, living in his own little bubble to chew to his heart’s desire.

jungkook steals this opportunity to snake an arm around your waist, pulling you down to the open space next to him. you whimper in surprise as you fall on top of the bundle of blanket he abandoned, lifting your butt quickly to remove it from under you. bam inches closer to snuggle against the soft cotton, ears abruptly moving in curiosity when he successfully makes the toy squeak too.

“where are these from, huh? was someone trying to steal you away from me again?”

they almost make you instantaneously melt — his deep voice laced with half humor and half truth of bitterness, accompanied by a soft squeeze of your hip.

“babe!” you scold him with a laugh to mask how flustered you’ve become, as if you’re still not used to his flirting after all these years. “i passed by a flower shop on the way home and i thought i should be the one to buy them for you for a change.”

you extend the hand holding the bouquet, eyes twinkling with devotion that causes his resolve to crumble into ruins. it never stood a chance in the first place.

—

you walked away from the cashier while stuffing the book you just bought inside your tote bag, the man you strongly refused to allow and pay for it still hot on your heels.

“wait! i’m sorry. let me just- uh-”

you froze awkwardly before the lean and blonde stranger who blocked your path to the door, probably standing somewhere around 5’10. based on his complete nike get-up, you were pretty sure he was outside for an afternoon jog.

“i just wanted to let you know that i think you’re very beautiful, and maybe ask if we can hang out this weekend? at my place?��

and you could tell he was trying his best to appear confident, but the shaky hand that was holding out the bouquet of fresh tulips betrayed him. it was the first time in your life that you found your favorite flowers to be undesirable, no matter how perfectly and intricately arranged the beautiful colors were.

‘at my place?’ what the hell happened to chivalry? oh, a lost art indeed.

despite being extremely irritated at him for causing an embarrassing scene infront of the cashier earlier in addition to this, you forced yourself to give him an apologetic smile for the sake of being polite.

that was when jungkook came back after buying two cups of hotteok from a cart only half a block away. his walking pace slowed down as he watched the scene unfold through the glass separating the bookstore from the sidewalk, eyebrows knitting in growing confusion and annoyance. he failed to read your lips while you were talking. by then he was already prepared to join the conversation, even more after he realized that he recognized the man.

however, before he could reach the door, you were already pushing it open. the gush of wind blew through your hair, and your face lit up when you were greeted by the sight of your boyfriend holding your favorite snack. with a thrilled smile, you practically skipped your way to him and took the cup from his left hand.

“you got them! the line was pretty long so i thought they would sell out before your tur-”

your smile slowly faded when you realized he wasn’t listening. jungkook’s eyes were too busy shooting daggers at the stranger walking to the trash can, jaw clenching when he saw how aggressively he slammed down your dearly beloved flowers. he was the only one to notice the lone orange tulip that slipped and fell on the ground, firmly rejected and thoughtlessly discarded.

your warm hand held his cheek, gently coaxing him to look at you instead.

“what did he say? did he touch you?”

it’s very rare to see jungkook this seriously angry. therefore, you are only reminded at times like this that he can be scary if he wants to. at first, you thought his protectiveness would only last until the early stages of your relationship and eventually fade like those who came before him, but he never changed.

you shook your head, rubbing his arm in an attempt to soothe his temper. “no, not at all. he was kind of stubborn but i handled it just fine.”

he only nodded in response, features still hardened, but relief washed over him after confirming that nothing dangerous happened to you while he was gone. but he was swept off his feet before his mind could run for another mile. you pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, the torrid kiss you granted him with lasting seconds. insatiably craving more of your ministrations, he made a move to chase your lips, but a rude car honk jolted him awake to the fact that you were still in public.

you gave him a coy smile. “want to eat ramen with me at home? i’m getting cold.”

“let’s go home, baby.” he hummed in agreement. “i’ll warm you up.” he hung his tattooed arm over your shoulder, guiding you to his other side to put himself between you and the rushing vehicles passing by.

he spared another sharp glance at the bookstore before walking away. he met the eyes of the asshole who has been indiscreetly observing you still regardless of the disaster that just transpired. he panicked at the interaction and turned on his heel, disappearing into the fiction aisle.

jungkook smirked, shaking his head in disdain before taking the first bite off his hotteok.

—

walking didn’t seem to help shake off his inflexible thoughts.

“something still bothers me about that guy.” he mumbled after tossing your empty cups in the trash bin you passed by.

“what is it?” you frowned worriedly, intertwining your fingers with his. by this time the glorious sun has started to set, splashing the sky with light orange paint that reflected on his honey skin.

“he was already there when we went in the bookstore. i know he saw us holding hands. i’m obviously your boyfriend.” vexation continued to run in his veins until it dripped from his tongue. his satoori accent came out thick and heavy as he spoke with wide, expressive eyes. “and he still had the fucking audacity to go out and buy you flowers?”

your lips parted open in surprise, tilting your head to the side as you tried to recall the surroundings when you entered the establishment earlier. no wonder he was instantly upset and worried.

“i don’t remember seeing him . . . but you know, if he’s as brazen as you think he is, why did he only approach me when you left?”

your stream of thoughts got interrupted by a scandalous gasp when you arrived at a new angle of looking at the situation.

“he invited me to his place.” you halted on your tracks, glaring back at your previous location. you were already five blocks away from the bookstore, and you wish he could magically feel the negative energy you were exuding from the distance. “so did he really think i’m that kind of-”

you instinctively pulled back your boyfriend by tightly grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. “hey! where are you going?”

his jaw clenched, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek — telltale signs that he was unquestionably pissed off. “baby, i won’t let that one slide.”

alright, this is not good. not good at all. perhaps you should start learning how to stop saying your thoughts out loud.

“but he’s not worth the time.” you pouted sadly, wrapping your arms around his waist so he wouldn’t be able to walk away. “i just want to go home and cuddle with you and our child while watching the new chainsaw man e-p.”

he breathed out a sigh to compose himself. the proposition you laid out was undeniably irresistible, albeit a bait of distraction. but he knew you were just keeping him in check before he impulsively acts again. he gave your forehead a chaste kiss, honeyed lips a little sticky from the sugar syrup of the hotteok filling.

“okay then. let’s do that.”

—

“are you still annoyed about yesterday?” you poke his soft cheek with your index finger. “hey, look at this. i got six red roses for a reason . . . you are my one and only.”

you point at each flower as you slowly speak the sentence word by word, and his heart overflows with fondness as he watches. when you innocently look up to meet his gaze with a hopeful smile, saying the words- “i would’ve gotten you a fancier arrangement but i don’t want your allergies acting up.”

that is his final straw.

“shit, baby. why are you so damn cute? what am i going to do with you?” he accepts the bouquet with a lighthearted chuckle, setting it down on the table before attacking you with his affection.

you end up falling on your back as he climbs over you. you giggle uncontrollably when he holds your wrists and traps your thighs in between his knees anchored on the cushion, tirelessly peppering your face and neck with love-fueled kisses.

the noisy disturbance distracts bam from his squeaky yellow fish. he jumps off the couch to stand beside you and jungkook, licking at whatever his tongue reaches. for you, it’s your arm held folded by your boyfriend.

“it tickles! you know it tickles there!” you squeal, squirming beneath him. you feel his frisky lips curve into a smile against the left side of your neck, stubbornly planting more kisses on the expanse of your skin.

“mhmm, i love you. i love you.” he hazily chants, drunk in love, tracing his way back to your lips. “i love you so much.”

that’s when he decides he’s finished with innocent pecks, delicate hands releasing your wrists to properly balance himself on top of you. you tenderly caress his face as he deepens the kiss, coaxing you to part your lips so he can dip his playful tongue in your mouth. when he tilts his head to the side so his nose won’t bump against yours, your hand slides to the back to support it, fingers tangling with his long and fluffy hair. a desperate, filthy moan escapes from his throat as you unconsciously tug, prompted by his soft nibbling at your bottom lip. it sends tingles running through your spine like live wire, and the air engulfing the two of you becomes hotter and heavier.

he parts away from you breathless, resting his forehead on yours before pulling himself up again. “fuck. is this how you feel when i buy you flowers?”

you gingerly brush his undereye with the pad of your thumb, finding yourself deeply fascinated with his dilated pupils staring right back at you.

you lick your swollen lips, front teeth digging on your bottom lip. “i should’ve done it sooner, right? i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. you already give me so much, silly.” he softly pecks your lips again. “besides, your presence is my favorite gift. you’re a blessing to me, you know that?”

you smile shyly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. his random confessions of overwhelmingly sincere adoration never fails to elicit a giddy reaction from you. “i love you.”

“ah- ouch.” a wince shortly replaces your smile when bam jumps on the couch again, accidentally stepping on your hair.

“bam, sit, sit. sit down.” jungkook rises to kneel on his knees, moving forward until they reach your waist. bam obeys his command, and your hands find purchase on the flesh of his thighs as he releases your hair from under the dog’s paws.

“i’ll go put the flowers in the vase.” he cheerfully announces as he cautiously removes himself on top of you, planting his feet on the ground.

“okaaay.” you drag out the word as you sit up on the couch. while he takes the bouquet of roses with him to the kitchen, bam finally finds the chance to leave the toy on your lap, but not before he gives it a good bite to make it squeak.

you pet his long floppy ears as he licks your cheek and then your hands, urging you to play with him using the gift you bought him. you press quick kisses on the top of his head before squeezing the yellow fish, waving it infront of his face.

“do you want to play, bamie? should we? will you bring it back to me?”

he starts panting as if to answer ‘yes’ to all of your questions.

you throw the toy at the kitchen, and you cover your mouth out of reflex to suppress your laughter when it landed on the dining table, only a few inches away from jungkook. he pauses from plucking off the leaves from the stem of each rose, jokingly raising an eyebrow at bam, who is balancing himself standing up by using his body as a support.

he picks up the toy and dangles it above bam, speaking to him in a baby voice. “is this what you’re looking for? aw, really? you want it? go take it then . . . that’s it, good boy!”

bam easily catches it with his mouth, running back to you so he can complete the mission you gave him. he drops it on your lap again, bumping his nose against yours, and you dramatically collapse on the couch. he starts sniffing at you curiously, front paw poking your shoulder once to gauge your reaction.

your eyes only open half-way, and you spread out your arms to show him the space you created for him. “bam, i’m sleepy- sleep. i need to recharge. can we play again later?”

he lies down on his back and uses your arm as a pillow, rolling around for a bit until he chooses to curl up beside you in the end, his upper body resting on your stomach.

“ugh, you’re so heavy. can’t. breathe.” you mutter under your breath, but nevertheless, you stroke his side lovingly until you both completely doze off for an afternoon nap.

jungkook squints at the living room when the apartment got suspiciously quiet, lips forming a pout.

“are you two cuddling? i still need to trim the stems- save me some space!”

—

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[felassan]

Thoughts on the IGN DA:TV 22 min gameplay - Lighthouse portion

this post is under a cut due to what some peeps may consider spoilers, and length.

This prev post was just some text-based info that I wrote down, mostly based on what was said in the commentary. this post is more of a looking at the visuals with a fine-toothed comb and a bit of theory/speculation stuff mixed in kinda deal. :)

The Lighthouse' Meditation Chamber. It has a comfortable-looking sofa on which to sit or lay down while you ponder and gaze at this fish tank. Back in the day, this would have been Solas' meditation chamber, right? maybe we can go here to commune with Solas via the Solas-Rook connection (whatever it is)? the fish tank gives me fond memories of the Normandy. :') can we collect different fish? do we have to feed them? are they real fish? Fade fish? wisps that are in the form/shape of fish? are they edible? can we eat them? can I swim in there? what would they taste like? I feel like Kargesh, the krogan from Mass Effect who wants to taste the fish from the Presidium lakes 💀 in this room, the light and shadow of the water moving on the ceiling is beautiful. I wonder where Rook's room is?

Top left: quest title referencing the phrase "After the storm". since this gameplay video is set after the siege of Weisshaupt and shows Grey Wardens lamenting what happened there, could the 'storm' here be what happened at Weisshaupt? Bottom left: collectable Codex entry, a tool-tip of some kind or does Rook have new mail? Center: pattern of ancient elven triangles on the wall, arranged like a sun. Right: this looks like a wardrobe. Maybe this is where Rook can change their casual wear? the Inquisitor had a Wardrobe in their quarters. maybe the Meditation Room is also Rook's quarters?

The Lighthouse Library. The seating area on the ground floor is the place we saw the companions gathered together in this group shot. the Lighthouse needs to manifest 4 more seats round the central table for the others hh (Lucanis, Bellara, Rook, Varric). The table has an icon on the mini-map, so it probably has some kind of interactable function. gather the companions? look at the world map?

What have we here, floating in the Library? 👁️ this looks ancient elven, magic, triangle-y and very important. It's not dissimilar to the one floating in Bellara's room, or to this place. The Lighthouse's power source? A strange map? Something that protects the Lighthouse from outside incursion or prying eyes? A model of the Veil and the different worlds? Could this become less broken-looking in terms of the outside 'rock' layer over time, or could more of the triangles light up blue over time as the story and look of the Lighthouse progresses? Does it have something to do with the Lyrium dagger? (the blue and gold color scheme reminds me of the dagger.) Is it connected to the rotating glowing roof of the tower of this part of the Lighthouse, which you can see later on when Rook goes outside into the Courtyard and looks up? I get the impression that the roof spins if this spins.

Left: something which resembles Elgar'nan's headpiece shape in the Lighthouse Library Center left: in the Library, there are books floating suspended in the air and floating upside down bookcases, arrayed around the magical artifact in the center Center right: there is one of these on either side of the Library entrance. they look like places where there were once frescoes or paintings, like what's left is very faded paint. I wonder if these restore overtime or can be restored over time? it reminds me a bit of the Skyhold mosaics. if these walls did hold paintings, I feel like it would have been Solas who painted them. Right: A floating book above a sidetable, from back in the Meditation Chamber

Next we progress into the Lighthouse Courtyard. Could the fragmented Courtyard become less fragmented and a bit more contiguous as the Lighthouse becomes less disrupted? Game Informer's cover story noted that since the Lighthouse is in the Fade, a realm of dreams that responds to your worldstate and emotion, the Lighthouse reflects the chaos and disrepair of Thedas. since the things in it can change, maybe as Rook completes more of the story and helps more of the world it will look less chaotic over time, including the fragmented Courtyard?

Some of the floating chunks have tree roots protruding from the bottoms

What happens to someone if they fall off the edge of a floating courtyard fragment in the Fade hh?

Left: big dog 👍 Veilfire glows in the scone on his chest Top center: this symbol was on the minimap, in front of the Fen'Harel statue. I think it's this one (left), which we saw in the high-level warrior combat gameplay video. it's some sort of collectable in the sort of way that gold/coin is. I guess this is where we go to use or spend this thing perhaps, whatever they are? maybe it's for Lighthouse upgrades? maybe it's what we spend at or trade to the mysterious "enchanter" who helps us with crafting at the Lighthouse? Bottom center: This is the head-shape of Mythal on the exterior of the Lighthouse Library building, like this statue in DA:I Right: the orangey-leaf trees, an ancient elven spaces classic :)

When Rook approaches Davrin's room, the minimap location title changes to "Guesthouse". That's cute 🥺 Is every companion space called a Guesthouse or is that just the name of Davrin's? Or just the name of the area Davrin's is in?

Left: What the glowing 'come talk to me pls 🥺' lamps look like. Some of the room-buildings, like Harding's, have two lamps outside of them though not just one like Davrin 🤔 Center: Rook carries the Lyrium dagger in their casualwear pocket when in the Lighthouse Right x2: Two lil chimneys puffing away, how cute!! Maybe one is the one for the kitchen where the cooking takes place, and one is connected to Taash's room? Taash's room has fires in it that could be forges.

Left: The dev narration tells us that this companion home is Harding's, and it makes sense - there's roots/vines growing up to or down from the ceiling, and the roof has the appearance of glass, like a greenhouse. Perfect for growing things and letting in the sun. There might not be any literal sunlight in the Lighthouse, but as the rooms shape themselves according to the companions, it's just all about Harding and what suits her. Right: I think this is Neve's room. Compare the windows on the front to the windows on the sides in the screenshot of Neve's interior. (same pattern & placement, in a row of 3)

As we can see from when Rook enters there, opposite Neve lives Davrin.

Left: Who lives here? this is next-door to Davrin. Right: And who lives here? this is opposite Harding.

^ the dev commentary at this point mentions Bellara's home at the same time as pointing out Neve's, but I'm not sure which of these two is hers. and this makes 5 homes, I wonder where the other two rooms are? perhaps attached to the main building which holds the Library? btw, how cute is it that the found family basically have their own cozy lil family neighborhood in a pocket dimension? 🥺

At the top of this tower it looks like a lil balcony no? potentially with a door leading out to it? maybe this is the balcony from Rook's room?

This Rook's casual wear has bare feet and triangles on it. Maybe this Rook was a Veil Jumper? I know the Veil Jumpers wear boots or shoes in the field, but this is casual wear. Veil Jumpers also seem quite orange in their color palette.

💜💜

💜💜 I LOVE

Rook standing next to Davrin here gives an idea of how tall it's possible for qunari Rook to be.

There was some debate over whether this room was Davrin's or Taash's. this vid confirms it as Davrin's. (some thoughts on how it reflects Davrin here). in that post I wondered what the green things were - here we can see that they're hanging corked jugs filled with.. sand? :D also interesting to note is that at this point in the storyline, Davrin's room lacks the big monster skull hung over the fireplace in the screenshot. however, it still has the other monster stuff - the skull on the other wall, the spine hanging from the ceiling, the 'horn chandelier' thing. hear me out. what if.. the skull that eventually goes above the fireplace is the skull of the Gloom Howler..? 👁️ if it was your nemesis, and you finaaally felled it, you'd put it in pride of place as your prize, above your fireplace.

Left: in the post about Davrin's room I wondered if the things on the floor in front of the fire next to the armchair were a rug and chew or bone for Assan, and here we can see that is the case. ^^ Right: I think this here in this side alcove is Davrin's bedroll. makes sense that it's tucked out of sight there - it's not visible in the perspective that the screenshot of his room was taken from, so I was wondering where it was.

On the left as Rook exit's Davrin's, we can see what looks like more wooden carvings that he's been working on, like this ogre.

In the Davrin and Assan portion, Davrin and Assan both look so good. I was really happy to see a Davrin focus in this video and Assan is so cute, with adorable animations, sounds and rigging. Assan stretches like a cat before getting up when Rook comes in.. the tail swishes, the ear crooking, the ear twitching.. 🥺 when Rook comes in, it looks like Davrin is warming his hands up by the fire - how do you think the physics of things like temperature work somewhere magical like the Lighthouse? 🤔

I love the purple sparkle effect around gaining approval. :D when hovering over a dialogue line, the wheel sparkles, and when you choose one, it spins. and Rook's name is in purple in the subtitles. its cute!

The Quest Acquired pop-up.

Another quest, this one called "The Price of the Past". A Davrin-associated quest? Davrin's past, or something the Grey Wardens did historically, like what happened to the griffons..?

The purple mist in the dialogue wheel moves and billows, I think that's a cool touch. :)

🥺🥺..

Rook then heads back into the Library.

Top left: two more highlighted interactable scrolls Bottom left: this mini-map icon looks like Varric. :) the dev narration mentions that this video takes place well into the game, and that Hossberg is a later game area. if it's Varric, this means that at this point in time, Varric is still alive and based in the Lighthouse with the rest of the crew, that he doesn't die in the prologue. I feel like this isn't really a surprise as the 'death' flags (at that specific point) in the prologue were a lil.. I dunno how to phrase it, it would have been too telegraphed if that was when? and also if his death is to happen at some point in the game, it will have more of an impact if Rook and new players actually have had a chance to spend time with Varric beforehand. yet, it's somehow still a big relief. :D it's like destroying Bianca was retiring him from active field duty. however, I do feel that he's still at risk and might die later in the game. 😭 just that the moment wasn't the prologue.. 😭 that he's not death-flag free, just that the prologue wasn't the time. btw, if Varric is living in the Lighthouse too I hope he has his own lil area too, at least somewhere to sleep etc. Right: this circle is on one side of the Library walls. it could just be a design on the wall, as it's solid and doesn't go anywhere, and it doesn't look like it goes anywhere at that point on the mini-map either, but idk, the circle has the appearance to me of an entryway and on the outside it has gold with blue triangles like the floating artifact in the Library air. maybe this is a dead end for now, but becomes an opened up/unlocked part of the Lighthouse later?

I wonder what's up the corridor past Varric? there are a few other corridors/places we could see on the Lighthouse minimap but didn't explore in this video, I'm so curious to explore it all :)

Lastly we have the Eluvian Room. this eluvian takes you to the Crossroads, and it's the eluvian we see at timestamp 1:00 in the release date reveal trailer. it sounds like the dev narration calls it the "Vir Revas", which could translate as "Way/Path of Freedom". it's fitting - one lens of Solas' rebellion is Solas as a noble freedom fighter. and it makes sense, an eluvian is a portal that takes you somewhere. on the right is a pretty floating elfy thing.

Eluvian pop-up info, including percentage of the map discovered, how many of the (I assume) treasures you have discovered, and how many (I assume) of the bosses you have killed. Is the symbol at the very top the symbol of the Crossroads? I also love the language of "A path has emerged from the mists of the Fade that leads to a gathering point where all eluvians meet - the Crossroads." it's pretty.

Close-up of one of the magic-gizmos that makes the Lighthouse eluvian work. it's a purple pentagon and inside it it has a pointy shaped thing floating and rotating. these look like the magic-gizmo Bellara is seen interfacing with in the release date reveal trailer, pictured below for reference. (also a purple hexagon with the pointy thing floating in it).

General thoughts/speculation on commentary & such:

I think it's hard to know what qunari Rooks can look like til we see CC itself. ^^

"Willingly or unwillingly" - it sounds like you can agree to take charge of the Lighthouse from Solas after the ritual interference goes awry, and if you don't you end up getting it anyways.

Being able to inhabit, explore and shape the space Solas lived in millennia ago when he first fomented his rebellion against the gods is a dream come true, like I wanna yell. it's so crazy (in a good way) and cool/surreal to think this is the case. I'm soo curious to get in there and rifle around. Rook is the one who leads the band of people living in the Lighthouse now, Rook is the one who wields the Lyrium dagger, Solas sees himself in Rook. Rook is potentially on a path towards inheriting the Dread Wolf mantle as well (that could also be willingly or unwillingly..)

'It shapes itself around your personality' - I wonder if some of the changes in the Lighthouse reflect Rook's world choices and their personality (like dominant dialogue tone) or something?

The glowing companion 'talk to me' lamps is a nice quality of life feature.

Considering that the spaces shape themselves around the companions, I wonder about Lucanis' room. 🥺 maybe he feels safer in a dark open space with nowhere to hide in it so nobody could sneak up on him in there? maybe it's an ingrained tendency owing to the harsh upbringing he had growing up, often going without necessities? maybe he's simply extremely practical and pragmatic, or it's to do with his relationship/history with food and cooking that makes him want to be in the storehouse? maybe this sort of space is familiar, or his room screenshot was taken earlier on in the game before his arc progressed much?

A secret Warden base where people have no idea what goes on there.. this never ends well hh, the Wardens in these sorts of places are always up to something untoward or extreme in the pursuit of their goals of stopping / defending from the Blights. nervous sweating. I wonder what revelations await us there!!

I wonder what could the Gloom Howler be? its name reminds me of the Sandy Howler from DA:I, which was a dragon. if the skull that gets put above Davrin's fireplace is of the Gloom Howler, what clues can we get about the type of entity it is from the shape of the skull? Stalking Wardens and kidnapping griffons implies that whatever it is, this entity has a level of sentience and has plans of a sort, it isn't a mindless beast. what could it possibly want with the griffons? And I wonder when this creature became Davrin's nemesis? Is he a monster hunter because of it? Or was he a monster hunter before it? Also, how does one get mail in the Lighthouse :D

"What's left of the Wardens" implies that the Wardens faced great losses at the siege of Weisshaupt. I wonder, did the First Warden make it? where are they?

Davrin preferring Direct dialogues and approaches makes me curious to find out ingame what the preferences of the other companions are.

Davrin's voice is amazing.

"Turlum", the name for the bond between Wardens and griffons (presumably the one they ride, when the griffon is an adult) moving in unity as one is new lore I think. I wonder what language/culture the word originates from? how does one forge this bond? I can't help but think of Tsaheylu from Blue Avatar dhdjfej

On the gods assaulting the Crossroads.. to take control of the network to assist in their plans for the world? (Briala saw the network's potential of the Crossroads' functional back in the day, for totally different plans tho ofc) you could spread your darkspawn armies all over the world more easily by sending them through the Crossroads. like the Deep Roads, but cubed. or simply to wrest control of it from Rook and the team because they know they are the only ones that can stop them and that that's where they're holed up? and what stops the assaulting enemies from entering the Lighthouse eluvian from the Crossroads? Is it something to do with the dagger, or Solas' own power?

[source]

[zablife]

Lovefool

Tommy x gf reader

Summary: An infatuated Tommy finds his gf in a state of confusion, leading him to question her devotion. Will she say she loves him and not another?

Author's Note: Requested by @runnning-outof-time who asked for a story set in the room pictured above. Image credit goes to K for that lovely image in the center of the moodboard!

The soft glow of the fading afternoon sunlight gave an ethereal quality to your family’s drawing room, the pale ivory walls bathed in swaths of peach and gold that welcomed Tommy in despite his late arrival.

Arms full of flowers and lips overflowing with apologies, he carefully approached the center of the room. As he waited to see how you might receive him, his eager blue eyes roved the intricate scrollwork of the plaster moldings which cascaded from the ceiling and walls like clouds come down from heaven.

The high shine of the polished parquet floors reflected the warmth of the sun’s radiance upon your skin, bringing his gaze back to you and the sight left him enchanted. He stuttered out a quiet breath in appreciation of your angelic form in a white satin gown and matching gloves. But as Tommy moved to place a kiss upon your cheek, you shrunk way from him, an unreadable expression crossing your face.

Bringing the bouquet to your nose, you inhaled their rich perfume deeply, a hint of satisfied contentment settling over you. It was not to last. Tommy watched as your mood soon shifted like the wind, your hands relinquishing the colorful blooms moments later to a nearby table.

With an aching dread growing in his chest, he noted the distance between you as you retreated to the semicircular alcove of tall windows. Without so much as a backward glance, you walked into the light, leaving him far behind.

It was not the welcome to which he'd grown accustomed. The evenings of months past were spent intertwined on the sofa as you read from one of your favorite novels, stopping for him to brush the tendrils from your vision so you might continue or share a bit of gossip with him.

An uncharacteristic air of despondency seemed to take hold now as you looked out into the open space before you. Many moments passed in silence, your arms clutched tightly against your body before you finally proclaimed, “You shouldn’t have come tonight, Tom.”

“Why? Are you expecting someone else?” he asked with a half hearted laugh. A harsh gulp followed your silence, afraid to hear the answer.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” you confirmed, pulling back the heavy brocade curtains. Your eyes scanned the front lawn for movement, sensing only the shadows passing over the hedgerow.

As the sun dipped in the sky, a single beam of sunlight graced the ornate marble fountain. The light danced across the rippling water, twinkling back at you in an array of glittering gold and you smiled to yourself as you thought of the magic this particular hour held. In the days after your introduction to Tommy and his love of horses, you would often stroll the grounds near the stables before dinner. However, your joy was quickly stolen by thoughts of what your father had said at breakfast.

Tommy sighed heavily behind you and you glanced over your shoulder to see him slowly approaching.

“Tommy, please, don’t,” you shook your head softly as he began to reach for you. 

“What’s wrong, eh?” his tone was gentle, but the concern he held was evident by the crease of his brow as he noted your puffy lower lip, swollen from your incessant biting. He’d come to notice it was a nervous habit of yours, albeit one that made you even more attractive. He would have kissed your ruby red lips if you hadn’t looked so distressed.

“Father says I ought to consider my options for the future. I’m afraid that no longer includes you,” you confessed flatly, afraid you’d lose control of your emotions if you didn’t hold tightly to the facade of well-mannered elegance.

Tommy's jaw clenched involuntarily at the thought of your father's duplicitousness, but also chided himself for being so thoroughly distracted by the mess Michael had made of everyone's finances recently. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he attempted a calming breath before asking, “And what of your mother?”

“Mother says I shouldn’t bother with someone who doesn’t deserve me,” you answered without considering how hurtful your declaration sounded. As soon as the words left your mouth, you recoiled slightly at the harshness. Eyes flicking up toward Tommy’s crestfallen face, you added defensively, “You’ve been away for weeks now with so few calls."

“I see,” Tommy uttered on a low breath. It was true the board meetings and paperwork had taken more of his time than he would have liked. “There were things I had to take care of,” Tommy began to explain before you cut him off.

“Yes, I understand, but that doesn't change the fact that mother says you’re not serious about me," you argued.

Fidgeting with your gloves you admitted that your parents had invited a handsome Bostonian named Jack Nelson to dinner one evening. With their blessing he'd taken you to the pictures and then dancing. Soon he was a regular guest at your parents' home, usurping Tommy's place at the table.

Tommy felt all the air leave the room as he recognized the name of the rival gangster. They'd seen one another two weeks earlier in London and exchanged cryptic remarks about his penchant for blue bloods and aspiration which made perfect sense now.

“You’d consider Jack Nelson’s proposal?” Tommy winced as he recalled the unsettling curl of the man's upper lip when he smirked.

“I don't know, I’m lost in confusion,” you cried, eyes brimming with tears. 

Tommy ran a hand through his hair, unable to believe what he’d just heard. Surely you had to know the difference between his love for you and whatever false promises Jack had made.

The sound of tires crunching against the gravel drive signaled an end to your discussion and you quickly dried your tears. Chin raised high, you prepared to take your leave when Tommy reached for your arm.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded.

"But...my parents...they're expecting me" you stuttered, lost in the deep blue pools of his eyes so close to you they now threatened to swallow you.

Tommy's palm caressed your arm, warmth spreading up you like the last ray of sunlight fading from view. You couldn't help leaning into his touch, needing to hear what he would say.

“I'm sorry I wasn't here, but you have to know...I haven’t spent a day without thinking about you,” he confessed, eyes glistening hopefully.

A single tear cascaded down your cheek at his admission, savoring the words you'd longed to hear even though you knew they came too late.

Tommy's heart clenched in his chest at the sight of it, silently willing you to listen a moment longer. "Does he know?"

"Know what?" you whispered.

"That you like simple daisies most? Or that you're allergic to lavender?" he asked in a pinched voice, a lump growing in his throat at the thought of your hand slipping from his and losing you forever.

"Oh, Tommy..." you sighed, realizing he'd recognized your habit of pressing the delicate white flowers into your books when he brought them to you and how you sneezed when you'd passed the rows of purple blooms your mother planted in the garden. "I...I don't think anyone ever thought to notice," you admitted sadly. Your comfort had never been a priority to anyone before.

Tommy brought you in close to his body, stroking your back gently as he spoke. "You're the most precious thing to me in this world. How could I not have noticed?"

With that you began to weep openly and he embraced you tightly, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

"Everything's going to be fine, darling. I'll speak with your father and make things right. I love you," he swore to you with such earnestness you didn't doubt him for a moment.

“I love you too, Tommy,” you answered breathlessly.

Wiping your tears away with pad of his thumb, Tommy's grin widened and his eyes twinkled with mischief as he added, "Then let's go tell that Nelson bastard to fuck off!"

"Yes, let's!" you agreed with a giggle. And you exited the drawing room hand in hand.

----------------------------

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[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 3)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Later that day, just as you were waiting for your husband to return home, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety  in your stomach as you thought back to your strange encounter at the Italian grocer earlier that day.

The way the man's eyes had flickered down to the gun hidden beneath Isiah's jacket, before quickly averting his gaze. The memory sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Despite that, you quickly put those thoughts aside as you heard Tommy’s footsteps carrying through the door of Arrow House.

You glanced at the clock hanging in the hallway, realizing that it was already shortly after eight o’clock in the evening.

Thomas walked into the reading room where you were sitting, nursing a glass of wine, the dinner you prepared waiting in the oven to stay warm. He was, still wearing his coat and looked somewhat tired. 

"I am sorry I am late , Love," he greeted you, dropping a quick kiss on your forehead.

"Is everything alright?" you asked your husband, concern etched in your voice as you gazed into his tired eyes. You noticed that there were faint lines around his eyes that you hadn't seen before.

"Yes , everything's fine," Thomas assured you, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, trying not to let your suspicions get the better of you.

"Good. I'll go and serve dinner then," you said, standing up from the sofa and making your way into the kitchen but, just as you stood up, you noticed some red blood stains on the collar of his shirt which he was clearly trying to hide by leaving on his coat.

Nonetheless, you decided not to address it, giving Thomas a reassuring smile before you walked off.

"I should have a shower first, Love. It has been a long day," Thomas told you truthfully in passing, his voice still low but there was a lilt to it, like he was keeping something from you.

"That's fine. Just come down when you are ready," you called after him from the hallway and he gave you a quick nod and a smile before disappearing upstairs.

Minutes later...

The dinner that you had prepared was delicious. The meat had cooked to tender perfection and the rich, earthy flavor of the mushrooms you had picked from the forest earlier that week complemented the dish beautifully. The aroma alone was enough to make your mouth water.

Carefully, you removed the dish from the oven and set it on the table in the nearby dining room, lighting the candles that you had arranged in its center. You had always loved setting a nice table, believing that food always tasted better when it was presented beautifully.

You had spent many hours as a young girl watching your mother, a talented cook, prepare meals for your family. Now, you were proud to use the skills she had taught you.

You had just finished setting the table when Thomas walked into the dining room, his dark hair still damp from his shower. He was wearing a clean white shirt and dark trousers, looking both comfortable and sophisticated. His face was free of stubble and his eyes sparkled with warmth as he looked at you.

"Something smells good," he commented, walking over to where you stood by the table and giving you a kiss.

You blushed, always feeling a little shy when Thomas praised you. 

"Thank you," you responded, making a small curtsy before taking your seat at the table. Thomas chuckled, sitting down across from you and reaching for the glass of whiskey you had already placed in front of him, knowing how much he enjoyed a drink as he dug into the food. 

"I enjoy cooking. In fact, I was thinking about doing some work at the local orphanage. The children there could really do with some decent meals , and it would give me a chance to feel useful," you told Tommy as you served yourself up some food as well, never enjoying the maids doing it for you. 

Thomas raised an eyebrow at this, studying you closely. "You want to work at the orphanage?"

You nodded, taking a sip of your wine. "Yes. I know how much you support local charities and causes. You're always helping people in need, and I want to do my part too."

Thomas smiled at this, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "That's very thoughtful of you, Love. I'm sure the children will appreciate it," Thomas replied, gazing at you with a softness that made your heart flutter. "But remember, Love, the world can be a dangerous place for a young woman and you, of all people, should know that, eh." 

"It's an orphanage, Tommy. It's not the Garrison," you chuckled, recalling the night he had saved you from a less than favorable situation.  Thomas cocked an eyebrow, his face growing serious.

"I know that, Love. But even so," he began to say, before trailing off, collecting his thoughts. "I will send Isiah with you," he then said, shaking his head and you stared at Thomas for a moment, surprised at the intensity of his words. It was clear that he was deeply concerned for your safety, and you couldn't help but feel touched by his protective nature.

"You are always so worried about me ," you told him with a soft smile, reaching across the table to take his hand in yours. He met your gaze with a steady one of his own and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"It's my job to worry about you, Love," Thomas replied, his voice low and earnest. "You're my wife, and I want to keep you safe."

The two of you finished the rest of the meal in relative silence, the only sounds being the soft clinking of silverware against china and the occasional sip of whiskey or wine.

Thomas watched you closely, his gaze warm and affectionate. He had always been a protective man, although sometimes his methods could be a little unconventional. But you knew that in his heart, he always had your best interests at heart.

As you finished your meal and pushed your plate away, Thomas leaned back in his chair and gave you a small smile. "I have something I want to show you," he said, his voice low and mysterious.

You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued. "What is it?" you asked and Thomas smiled, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"It's a surprise, Love," he said, standing up from his chair and offering you his hand. "Come on, I'll show you."

You took his hand and let him lead you out of the dining room and down the hallway to his study. The room was dimly lit, with only a single lamp casting a soft glow over the large wooden desk that dominated the space. Thomas closed the door behind you and crossed over to the desk, reaching for something behind it.

It was then that you noticed a large painting leaning against the wall, wrapped in thick brown paper.

"Are you going to tell me what it is?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. Thomas chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Patience, Love," he murmured, carefully unwrapping the painting to reveal an exquisite work of art. It was a portrait of you , a stunningly accurate depiction of your likeness, down to the last detail. Your eyes were wide with surprise as you took in the image of yourself, feeling a little self-conscious under Thomas' intense gaze.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, reaching out to touch the canvas. The brushstrokes were delicate and precise, capturing the softness of your skin and the warmth of your smile. You had never seen anything quite like it before.

"I had it commissioned as a wedding present," Thomas explained, his eyes never leaving your face.

"I wanted something to celebrate the woman you are, and the woman you're becoming."

His words sent a rush of warmth through you, filling your heart with a sense of love and pride. You had never felt so cherished, so adored. It was an incredible feeling, one that left you breathless and overwhelmed.

You stood there, hand still resting on the painting, heart pounding in your chest as you looked into Thomas' eyes. You could see the raw desire burning in his gaze, the hunger that told you he wanted you as badly as you wanted him.

"This is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me," you whispered, your breath hitching as Thomas stepped closer to you.

His hand reached out, gently grasping a tendril of your hair, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Thomas growled, his breath hot against your skin.

Your heart raced as he pulled you towards him, his lips crashing down onto yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless.

"Tommy ," you gasped, your voice barely audible as his hands roamed over your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist before cupping your breasts over your dress.

"Yes, Love?" Thomas murmured against your lips, his thumb teasing your nipples through the fabric until they hardened beneath his touch.

You moaned softly, arching your back into his touch as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance that was both familiar and thrilling.

Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as the hunger inside of you grew stronger.

"I want you, Tommy," you whispered hoarsely, your breath hot against his ear.

Thomas responded with a growl, his hands tugging at your dress until it slid down to your feet, leaving you standing there in nothing but your lacy underwear.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Thomas groaned, taking a step back to drink in the sight of you. "And you are mine," he added possessively, reaching out to trace the curve of your hip with his fingertips.

You shivered at his touch, feeling a pulse of desire low in your belly. You had never felt so desired, so wanted before. It was intoxicating.

"Yes, I'm yours," you whispered, reaching out to touch him in turn. Your hands found their way to his belt, the metal buckle cool against your skin as you undid it and slid it free from its loops.

Thomas groaned as you began to undo the buttons of his trousers, revealing the hard length of his cock beneath.

"Fuck, Love," Thomas gasped, his voice barely above a whisper as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling the velvety softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

You pulled him forward, pressing your lips to his collarbone and trailing kisses down his chest as you unbuttoned his shirt and sank to your knees before him all at the same time.

The scent of him was musky and intoxicating, and you couldn't resist the urge to take him into your mouth.

"I have never done this before," you confessed, looking up at him with shy, yet eager eyes.

Thomas' expression softened at the admission, his hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "I know , Love," he murmured. "I'll guide you." And with those words, you opened your mouth eagerly, waiting for him to make the first move.

Your tongue darted out, teasing his tip and tasting his pre-cum as it leaked out. Thomas moaned deeply, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you to take him deeper, urging you to taste more of him.

You complied eagerly, exploring every inch of him with your mouth as Thomas thrust gently into your throat. Your hands wandered up to his toned ass, pulling him closer as you sucked and licked with abandon.

Thomas' breath hitched as you drew back, gasping for air before sliding back down on him once more.

"Good girl ," Thomas grunted, guiding your head back down onto him.

You could feel the trembling in his legs as you worked him with your mouth, the intensity of his pleasure building to a peak.

"I'm going to cum, Love," Thomas warned, his voice low and strained. "Do you think you can swallow it?" Thomas asked, his voice tight with anticipation. You looked up at him, eyes wide, and nodded eagerly.

"Good girl," he praised you before grabbing a fistful of your hair and pumping his hips faster.

You worked your mouth up and down his shaft, feeling the throbbing of his cock intensify until finally, Thomas thrust deep into your throat and held it there as he came hard. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could, feeling the hot streams of cum coat your tongue before spilling out of the corners of your mouth.

You felt a sense of pride wash over you as you took it all in, Thomas's hips still thrusting as he emptied himself into your willing mouth.

Finally, with one last gasp, Thomas pulled out, his cock sliding free from your mouth with a wet, sucking sound. You looked up at him with a sense of accomplishment and longing, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him.

Thomas reached down and gently brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment.

His eyes were soft, filled with love and admiration. You blushed under his gaze, feeling both proud and self-conscious at the same time.

"God, you're beautiful," Thomas murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "And so fucking sexy."

Your blush deepened at the compliment, but you didn't look away. Instead, you reached up and took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips for a gentle kiss. Thomas smiled at the gesture, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your skin as he looked down at you with a hunger that made your heart race.

"Come here," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "I want to feel you."

You stood up, stepping closer to Thomas as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the evidence of your earlier efforts still slick against your thighs. The combined scent of him and of yourself left you heady, intoxicated by the smell of raw, unbridled sexuality.

His mouth found yours again, his lips claiming yours in a bruising kiss that left you breathless and trembling in his arms.

"I always wanted you to do things to me, on this big desk of yours," you giggled nervously  , your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Thomas's grin deepened, his hands roaming your body with a possessiveness that made you shiver.

"Then what are you waiting for, Love?" He murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You didn't need any more encouragement than that. Within seconds, you had pulled your underwear down your legs and climbed up onto the desk, positioning yourself so that your ass was right at the edge.

"So fucking perfect ," Thomas growled, his eyes burning with desire as he took in the sight of you spread out before him, ready and willing.

You felt a rush of heat flood your body, the thought of being so exposed heightening your arousal to new heights.

Thomas reached out, his hands tracing the curve of your waist before moving up to cup your breasts. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending pulses of pleasure straight to your core.

You moaned softly, arching your back and pressing yourself into his touch.

Thomas' mouth found yours again, his lips silencing your cries as his fingers continued to tease your nipples.

"You like that, Love?" Thomas asked, his voice low and sultry.

"Yes," you gasped, your breath hitching as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. "Please, Thomas."

Thomas grinned at the plea, his fingers leaving your breasts to trace a path down your stomach and towards the apex of your thighs.

"God, you're so fucking wet for me," Thomas groaned against your mouth, his fingers brushing through your folds before delving deep within you.

You gasped, your back arching off the desk as Thomas began to thrust his fingers in and out of you. Each stroke hit a spot deep within you, driving you wild with pleasure.

"Please Love, let me cum inside you ," Thomas groaned, his breath hot against your ear.

"No , I- I can't," you gasped, feeling the familiar fluttering deep within your belly.

"Please ," Thomas begged as, finally, he aligned himself with your wetness and thrust into you with one swift push, but you knew that if you let Thomas cum inside of you, there was a chance you could end up pregnant. And with your life the way it was, the last thing you needed right now was a child.

You shook your head, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your husband bottomed out inside of you.

God, he felt amazing. But you knew that this was as far as you could go.\

"I am sorry," you whispered, your breath hitching as Thomas began to thrust his hips against yours, driving himself in deep and hard. "I-I can't. I'm sorry."

But Thomas seemed to understand.

"It's alright, Love," he murmured, brushing a stray curl from your face with a tender hand. "I'll just make a mess instead," he chuckled in between groans as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

Your nails dug into the desk, your breath coming in ragged gasps as Thomas's hips snapped against yours, his cock hitting that delicious spot inside of you.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your pelvis bucking to meet his thrusts. "Harder."

Thomas growled at the demand and obliged, his cock pounding into you with bruising force. You cried out, throwing your head back and bracing yourself against the onslaught of pleasure.

Thomas's thrusts became erratic, his breaths coming in short panting gasps.

"Fuck, I'm close Love," he groaned, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

You nodded frantically, feeling your own pleasure coiling deep within you. "Yes, yes," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation as your own orgasm built within you.

Your nails dug into the surface of the desk even harder now as Thomas continued to drive into you with an almost brutal force. Each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body, your breasts bouncing in time with each stroke.

"Yes, Tommy! Oh god , I'm gonna cum!" You screamed as your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

Thomas's thrusts became erratic as he too, found his release, his hot seed filling the air around you as he pulled out and used his hand to finish the job.

You collapsed back onto the desk, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Thomas leaned over you, his arms braced on either side of your head as he caught his own breath.

"Fuck, Love," he groaned before, suddenly, you were being interrupted by one of the maids.

The sound of a knock on the door broke through your haze of pleasure, and Thomas quickly pulled away from you with an annoyed expression on his face. You each gathered your clothes and Thomas barked, not bothering to conceal his irritation at being interrupted in the middle of such an intimate moment.

The maid, a young girl with mousy brown hair and a pinched expression on her face, looked at the ground as she spoke, knowing exactly what you had been doing, 

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there's a matter that needs your immediate attention."

Thomas sighed heavily and rubbed his temples with his fingers. he asked, his voice clipped and impatient.

"It's the new shipment of whiskey, sir," the maid replied nervously. "The delivery driver says it was damaged during transport, and he refuses to hand it over until you inspect it yourself."

The maid's statement caught Tommy by surprise. "Y/N, go upstairs!" he ordered you in a way he had not spoken to you before.

"Excuse me?" you asked, annoyed with the way Thomas had spoken to you. You were still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm and, frankly, the last thing you wanted was him to snap at you like this. It was unlike him. 

Thomas let out a long-suffering sigh. "I am sorry Y/N. I shouldn't have spoken to you like this, but I need you to go upstairs and stay there. Please," he added as an afterthought, his voice softening.

"Fine ," you muttered, annoyance tingeing your voice as you slid off the desk and started to pull your panties back on, pulling them up beneath your dress. 

You couldn't help but feel irritated at the interruption, even more so at the tone Thomas had used with you. 

But you shook it off, reminding yourself that Thomas wasn't like that. He cared for you deeply, and you cared for him just as much. Maybe he was just having a stressful day.

When you arrived in the bedroom you shared with Tommy now however, you couldn't help but wonder what was really going on. A whiskey delivery at 10 o'clock seemed absurd and, with that in mind, you pulled aside the curtains and peaked out of the window .

Tommy was already standing outside, talking to a somewhat scary looking truck driver. But something was off. Tommy looked tense, his shoulders rigid and his expression stern.

The driver seemed to be making wild gestures, his hands waving around erratically as he spoke. And then, you saw it when the stranger opened one of the boxes on the back of his truck.

Inside there was no whiskey however, but instead, you saw something black, something that looked like rifles. A lot of rifles.  Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing. Was this some kind of arms deal? And if so, why would Thomas be involved in something like that?

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[aarsun]

Classic Sofa Designs for home

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 4

Shiny new schedule! Lets see how it shakes out. I'm hoping this will give each story time to shine on its own. But as my husband pointed out, it is four days in a row of stories followed by a day of no posting and then WIP Wednesday for the next two. So there really isn't a break between them lol!

Eh, it's fine!

In this Eddie finds what happened to Steve and decides to do something about it. And Steve develops a crush on Eddie's swimming.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~

Steve was grateful when the party ended. He was about ready to vibrate out of his skin. He needed to talk to Robin.

“All right spit it out,” she huffed when they got into the car. “I can tell you’ve been antsy all day.”

He let out a sigh. He loved her so much. He never had to over-explain himself with her. The way he always did with Tommy.

“When you guys do the staff swim on Saturdays, how often is Eddie there?”

She blinked at the question. It was the last thing she would have thought he would ask.

“Almost every week,” Robin said. “He wasn’t there last week because he had to help his uncle in the yard, but yeah. If he can be there, he will.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Does he play around usually or does he do laps and shit?”

She frowned as she thought back. “He’s usually doing laps when we get there and then plays around with us when we get in the pool.”

“Is he doing a basic breaststroke or...?” he hedged, biting on his bottom lip.

“All right, what’s with the twenty questions?” Robin replied. “Just ask what’s really on your mind.”

Steve let out a long breath. “Is there a chance he could have been trained to swim and not just taught?”

She sat back in the passenger seat and thought about it.

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” he said dryly. “Because Robin, he’s fucking good. Like could be better than me with the right coach good.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wait, really?”

Steve nodded.

They sat on that thought the rest of the way home.

~

Eddie got home from his swim and immediately hopped into the shower. He hated showering in locker rooms. Even when they were supposedly empty. Too many close calls with the jocks at his high school to feel safe in those things.

When he got out his Uncle Wayne was sitting on the armchair reading the newspaper.

“You know those things are going go the way the dodo any day now, right?” he teased, flopping on the nearby sofa.

“Uh-huh,” Wayne said dryly, not bothering to look up. “You’re back early.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “The rec center general manager was having her son’s birthday party today so I dipped out early.”

Wayne put down his paper and took off his glasses. “They didn’t tell you they’d need to use the pool? That’s not fair, Ed.”

“No, no,” Eddie said waving his hands back and forth. “They were using the kiddie pool. They were just super loud and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with just lifeguards today with Robin helping out.”

“She getting paid for that?” Wayne said, steely-eyed.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes Uncle Wayne, they were asked if they wanted to and were paid overtime for it.”

Wayne nodded curtly and went back to his paper. “I went to the library and looked up that Harrington fellow. Five gold medals, two silver and a bronze. Probably would have had even more gold medals if it weren’t for that accident at the beginning of the games.”

“Tragic,” Eddie said. He was aiming for sarcastic but it came out more sincere than he would have liked.

“I think it was sabotage.”

Eddie’s head whipped up to look at his uncle. “You want to repeat that?”

Wayne carefully folded the paper and set it on the side table next to him. He pulled off his glasses and looked him in the eye. “I think it was a deliberate attempt to get Steve out the games.” Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Now I don’t know if it was meant to go as far as it did, but without a doubt that jumping board was tampered with.”

Eddie sat back and looked at him skeptically. “You shitting with me right now?” Wayne shook his head. “Because why would anyone do that? He only did okay in the second Olympics he was in. He didn’t even medal the first time.”

“Because they were throwing around phrases like ‘world record’ and ‘best swimmer of his generation’ about Steve Harrington at Beijing,” Wayne explained. “Like proper news worthy stuff. All eyes would have been on him and I’m betting that whoever it was wanted him out.”

Eddie sat back on the sofa with a “Huh.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up the internet. He typed in Steve Harrington’s name and the top results was his 2008 Olympic trials. Which Eddie privately wondered if someone paid heavily for that.

He clicked on the link. The final swim for butterfly and no one else was even in frame. He could hear the zoooom, click, of the camera zooming back out. Hargrove came in second, Hagan third and then everyone else was tight cluster of bodies at the finish line.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed. “He’s not just good. He’s God’s gift to swimming, son of Poseidon levels of ability here. If you’re right and someone did this to him, I hope they fucking hang for it.”

“Kick him out of the sport at the very least,” Wayne said gruffly. “Maybe even criminal charges if they call pull them.”

Eddie nodded. “Speaking of criminal charges, how the hell did you convince Chief Hopper to get me off mine? Because I should have gotten probation at least. A criminal record and jail time at the worst.”

Wayne looked him straight in the eye. “Because I know everyone deserves a second chance. Not everyone is like your daddy. He used up every ounce of goodwill he had with everyone before they locked him up threw away the key. Hopper was a delinquent before he got into a big enough trouble and his parents sent him to military school.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. That explained a lot more than anything else he knew about the man. “And you what? Covered it up for him? Took the fall? What?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

Eddie leveled his uncle with a glare. “It must have been something big because he picks me up every day and is part of the trio that has to sign off on my paper work. That’s not a small favor, Uncle Wayne.”

“That’s certainly true,” he agreed. “I was a character witness for him to adopt his daughter, Elinor. He’s pretty damn sure that if it wasn’t for me going to bat for him they would’ve never let him some much as foster let alone adopt.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, nodding thoughtfully. “That is a pretty big favor.”

“You being good to him?” Wayne asked after a moment.

Eddie reared his head back and tilted in confusion. “Who? Hopper?”

“No,” Wayne scoffed. “Steve. You might have not have known at first what he went through, but you do now. So are you being good to him?”

Eddie opened his mouth to instantly reply ‘of course!’ but he forced himself to stop and think about it. “I don’t really spend enough time with him to be one way or another, but I haven’t gone out of my way to be a dick, you know?”

Wayne nodded and then picked back up his paper and Eddie knew that was the end of that. He went back to watching videos of Steve completely smash his American teammates to smithereens. Like the way the guy moved through the water was like a hot knife through butter, it was that smooth.

Then he pulled up the video. The one that ended the guy’s Olympic dreams for good. They were all at the starting line and everything looked normal. Calm. Then the gun went off and suddenly it all went wrong. The spring board literal flew out from under Steve. He tried to correct his trajectory, but Eddie could see he only made it worse.

He clung to it desperately, but his head bashed the side and suddenly he was under. Sinking like a stone. People held their breath as they watched, waiting for him to surface again. But he didn't. Suddenly, a streak of white flashed by everyone and dove in, straight for him. The figure grabbed Steve and dragged him to the surface. When they both crested the surface, it revealed just exactly who his savior was.

Robin.

Somehow there wasn’t any blood, just a giant bruise where he hit his head. Eddie can tell he’s unconscious and Robin barely holding on. Then finally a couple of the coaches jumped in after them and helped pull him to edge of the pool where EMTs were waiting with a stretcher. They immediately wrapped his neck in brace and then carefully hauled him out of the water.

All this to fucking commentary. Like Eddie wanted to reach back in time and punch those assholes until they bled. Sure, tell people what happened. But this? This was disgusting. A play by play.

Eddie exited out of the video and threw his phone on the sofa next to him. Afraid of the water. That’s what Jeff had suggested back when he first started doing his community service. Murray had even suggested something to the like. But this? This cinched it.

Fuck.

“Would something like almost drowning make you afraid of the water?” Eddie asked out loud, chewing on his lip and rubbing the bottom of his lip.

Wayne looked up from his newspaper again with a questioning hum. So Eddie repeated the question. “Could do, I suppose. Trauma is a bit funny like that. Why do you ask?”

Eddie told him about Steve’s avoidance of main pool and how he stayed to the kiddie pool and endless pool. “Like he obviously takes showers and shit, so it’s not a complete aversion, but it’s something, right?”

Wayne hummed again, this time more thoughtfully. “Certainly sounds like it’s more than something, Ed.”

Eddie slapped his knees and stood up. “Right, I think I know what I need to do.” He grabbed his phone off the sofa and patted his pockets to make sure he had his keys.

“I’ll be back later,” he called out over his shoulder and Wayne hummed his acknowledgment that he heard him, before he was flying out the door.

He got in his van and drove straight over. He skidded to a stop in front of nice house in Loch Nora. He barely managed to yank the keys out of the ignition before storming up the stairs to the front door. He pounded on the door until Gareth opened it.

“Hey,” he said with a grin. “Your dad’s a psychologist, right?”

Gareth blinked at him a moment, unsure what was going on. “Dude, you do realize it’s barely ten o’clock on a Saturday? You know, that day most people use to sleep in?”

Eddie looked at his watch for a moment and then looked up at his friend with a chagrined expression. “Sorry, dude. I can come back later if you want.” He jutted his thumb behind him at his van.

Gareth peered around him and then looked at Eddie blearily. “No, no I don’t want to unleash you on the unsuspecting populous when you get like this.” He turned around and waved for Eddie to follow.

Eddie bounced on his toes for a moment trying to decide if he should come in or not. He was about to decide not, when Mrs. Hughes came around the corner.

“Eddie!” she cried cheerfully. “You’re just in time for breakfast. I’ll throw another couple of slices of bacon on the griddle for you.”

So he came in, lured by the promise of bacon.

“So what did you need to my dad about?” Gareth asked, setting the table for breakfast.

Eddie jumped, nearly forgetting he had a mission. “There’s this guy at the pool they have me doing community service at, who has a shit ton of trauma and I wanted to ask him for advice on not accidentally fucking the guy up worse, you know?”

“That’s admirable, Eddie,” Dr. Hughes said, coming into the kitchen with the newspaper. “Trauma is such a tricky thing and by educating yourself in knowing where the common landmines are is good place to start.”

Eddie sighed in relief. He had been worried that Gareth’s dad would tell him to keep his nose out of it.

So once breakfast was on the table and they had dug in a bit, Gareth’s twin Gethin having spent the night at a friend’s, Eddie started telling Dr. Hughes all about Steve.

Dr. Hughes nodded. “Trauma in relation to pain is a tricky thing to unravel because they avoid the thing for fear of getting hurt again.”

Eddie nodded, soaking up everything and even taking notes. “Thanks, Dr. H, this was really helpful. I won’t feel so nervous around him anymore.”

“You’re a good kid, Eddie,” Dr. Hughes murmured. “I’m glad my personal psych profile was able to help in keeping you out of jail. It never sat right with me that poor people have to resort to crime to stay afloat and then be punished more severely for it.”

Eddie blushed. “Thanks for that, too.”

He knew was reductive to claim that it was Hopper that got him off, especially when so many people came out to help him stay out of jail and out of having a criminal record. But Hopper’s testimony was certainly the most memorable.

He finished breakfast and then spent time with Gareth going over the next session of their current D&D game.

Come Monday, he was going to help Steve in every way he could. Because if anyone knew the consequences of having a shit hand dealt you, it was Eddie.

~

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Tag List: CLOSED

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[kykyonthemoon]

Sudden Rain

Your plan to see a meteor shower on his birthday was canceled because of a sudden rain.

── .✦ Xavier x Female Reader|MC

♡︎. Tags: short, flashfic, R16 - MDNI - suggestive themes

♡︎. Word count: 700w

♡︎. This little piece is my entry to a LaD Hotel Discord event.

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - currently closed.

The day of October 16th passed smoothly, with plenty of laughing, exactly as you had hoped. Plans for Xavier's birthday proceeded well, from the surprise at Philo Flower Shop with Jeremiah's assistance to the excursion to Moonfall Bay, the handwritten letter personally delivered at the Time Post Office, and the incredibly romantic dance under the moon. You also heard Xavier confess his sincere feelings. To end such a wonderful day like this there was only one more thing left.

You had checked the weather forecast online in advance and knew that there would be a meteor shower that night. It was easy to witness in Moonfall Bay. You were expecting meteors, but after your kiss with Xavier, chilly rain started falling. 

"Oh!"

You suddenly shouted and reached out to catch each raindrop. Xavier also raised his head to the sky. 

“It's raining.” 

Like many others, you quickly grabbed Xavier's hand to find shelter. The unexpected downpour ruined your meteor-watching plans. In addition, the rain continued to fall heavily throughout the night. 

“I'm sorry… I intended to watch the meteor shower with you, but…”

Xavier softly clasped your hand and said, "This is already the best birthday I've ever had."

You waited awhile, but the rain refused to cease, so you decided to return to the hotel room you had reserved. It was festival season at Moonfall Bay, so getting a hotel was quite tough. Fortunately, you managed to get the only room left, and Xavier was more than willing to share with you, even if it meant sleeping on the sofa.

As soon as you opened the door, you were very surprised to see that inside the small room were many unlit candles and lights. A lovely cake was displayed on a tiny table in the center of the room. That must have been a present from the hotel once they learned about your plans to celebrate Xavier's birthday that day. Even though you could not watch the meteor shower, a small party with just the two of you here was always delightful. 

Xavier let you change first. However, after entering the bathroom, you realized that you had forgotten to bring clean clothes. You wrapped a cotton towel around your body in a set of lingerie and walked out.

The room had been illuminated. Xavier stood with his back to you, holding little fragments of light like fireflies. He lit up candles and lights. And you could see his back adhered to the damp shirt after he removed his vest. Hearing your footsteps, he turned around.

The buttons on Xavier's shirt had been removed, displaying his soaked abs in the faint glow of the lamps, candles, and lights made by his Evol. Raindrops were still flowing from his hair, down his neck, chest and abdomen. Your face reddened yet it was difficult to look away.

Xavier was also very surprised to see you in that state. He asked: “Finished?”

“No… I forgot something.” You replied. Afraid he might catch a cold, you took a clean towel and wrapped it around his neck. “At least dry your hair first.”

“My hands are full,” Xavier replied with a small smile. You looked at the new lights emerging from there. “Would you mind?”

You knew full well that Xavier was just making excuses to get you to take care of him. However, this made you extremely pleased. You motioned for him to lean down and begin drying his hair. 

Xavier stood near you. So close. His hot breath blew on your exposed neck and shoulders, making you feel ticklish.

Before you knew it, Xavier had placed his hand on you. He drew you closer till his lips left a burn mark on your ear.

“Seeing you like this, I'm glad we didn't get to see the meteor shower.”

You smiled and gently pushed Xavier away. “Dry yourself.”

You then swiftly stole some cream off the adjoining cake. You swiped it onto Xavier's face. He frowned.

You glided your finger and ran a long line of cream down his neck, chest, and abdomen. Xavier reddened and quickly grasped your wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"Testing the cake," you chuckled. At that point, Xavier tugged you toward him, brought your cream-stained finger to his lips and gently bit it. 

"You—!"

"Then I… want to taste it too…"

[russellsppttemplates]

"Your child's been kicking me all day." "Oh, so now it's my child?" with daniel or pierre

Cw: reader is pregnant

When Pierre got home from the shoot, he found you cuddled up on the sofa, blankets all around you and a mug with some tea left on the coffee table. Careful not to wake you up while he set the take out bags on the dining table and leaving his keys by the door along with his shoes, Pierre's heart warmed at the sight. You had the day off and he made sure that you wouldn't have many chores to take care off so you could rest for the better part of the day. It seems to have worked as he only recognised the difference of the baby laundry you had hung on the rack.

"You're home already? I didn't hear the door", you interrupted him as he touched the small pieces of clothing, "I didn't want to wake you up, you looked so comfortable", he smiled, holding out his arms so you could cuddle him, your bump hitting his mid section and letting him feel the kicks.

"Your child's been kicking me all day, non stop", you mumbled against his chest, "I have no idea how I fell asleep because he kept going at it, left, right, front, center and back", you mimicked ninja with your arms, "your son is a troublemaker already!".

"Oh, so now he's my child?", Pierre chuckled, "what happened to you gushing and cooing at "how cute our baby boy will be in his cardigan" yesterday?", he teased, caressing your bump under your shirt.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[oneknightstand-if]

All Hallow's Eve (Interlude Broderick)

"Why are we watching scary movies now? Isn't our life already enough of a shitshow B-grade horror movie as it is?" Broderick groused from his place sprawled out on the right side of the couch.

To his left sat Gwen, front and center with a giant tub of freshly popped and highly buttered popcorn, and beyond her Lorelei perched on the sofa's plush armrest, eyes wary and every muscle tensed, as if she half expected the group to be attacked at any passing moment. Maybe by the movie that they were now settled down to watch.

Granted, considering what'd been happening to them lately, that wasn't a particularly unlikely outcome. So why were they even tempting luck by...

"Tis a modern-day Samhain tradition!" Merlin merrily exclaimed from where she's ensconced in an overstuffed armchair to Broderick's other side. For a moment, he merely squinted suspiciously back at her artfully tousled locks and the smug curve of her perfectly plump lips. "All Hallow's Eve... or rather, your quaint Halloween and all its candy-pillaging customs."

The mage's chair was tilted just so to keep a convenient eye upon both those sitting at the couch and also the small group gathering around the table at the back where a Ouija board was currently being set up after Percy had declared that dicking around with a haunted Ouija session would be safer than watching the movie.

Although obviously phrased differently and using far less words. Despite that announcement, the slim boy was currently wearing a pair of aviator-style 3-D glasses.

Of course, the movie that they're watching wasn't in 3-D. Had there ever been a good 3-D horror released? Because it certainly hadn't been Jaws 3-D or My Bloody Valentine, that he can personally attest to!

MC had joined the latter after announcing that Merlin wasn't allowed to play. A strangely sensible sentiment from the other so-called Harbinger for once. What daft idiot would trust a self-proclaimed succubus during a Ouija session? And of course Adrian had gone to join them, even as he pushed up his eyeglasses and stared dubiously down at the board game.

Did that damn pair of glasses even properly fit him with how often it kept sliding down his face and...

Wait, what was that?

Halloween special (with spooky sound effects!) featuring ę̸̡̧͇̭̝̐͊̒̅͋v̸͚̖͖̮͎͉̀́̅͘è̷̱̞̹̜͍̰̉̂̑̒̚r̵͎̈́̈y̸͉̭̪͓̎̈̃̈́͜o̸̭̹͑͂ṅ̶̦͇̪̻̱̏̏ë̸̯̦̼̤͖́̎̄ available on the Riders of the Apocalypse Groupies + above tiers of my Patreon.