#this is i think all of the plums we will pick

[grubloved]

FRUIT!!!!!!!!

#this is i think all of the plums we will pick #but this isnt even half the peaches; just the early ones #i think this id the majority of the pears though :) #and 4 strawberries in the corner akfjdkfnf #backyarding #birdenest #the nectarines wont be ready til november!

[risestarkiss]

Strength

Rise Ramblings #565

While watching the show, I realized that we don’t really get to see the boys’ true strength very often. Yes, we see their Ninpo at work, especially towards the end of the series, but I believe that outside of their Ninpo there is so much more to these boys than meets the eye.  

When thinking about raw strength, it’s easy to say something like “Yeah, Raph is the strongest.” And for good reason...

He is the one that works out the most.

His build is the largest and the most intimidating.

Often times we see him picking up, carrying, or tossing his brothers around, no problem.

And that’s why this big guy gives the best hugs.

But the main reason why he's seen as the strongest is because he’s the one generally seen picking up the most impossibly heavy objects.

Although, he does have his limits.

Yes, Raph is the strongest, but that does not negate the strength of the rest of the bros.

The physical abilities of the other three are nothing to sneeze at, especially since they were all originally created to be weapons. (See “What Was Meant To Be” for more on that subject.)

Take Mikey for instance.

Of all of the boys, you wouldn’t think of Mikey as particularly strong, but here he is shoulder pressing one of his brothers for fun.

And flinging the boy in plum.

What about Leo? Sure, we never really see him exert himself, especially when it comes to weightlifting or exercise, but I can’t help but notice how much he tends to carry his little brother.

Furthermore, Leo doesn't just carry Mikey, but throws him around as well.

But I believe the one that low key shows off his strength the most is Purple.

(It might have something to do with his overall lack of restraint, but I digress.)

He easily carries his brother when he needs to.

And more impressively, he throws Mikey like nobody’s business using his bow staff and his own brawn.

Speaking of his staff, if this is true:

Then what do we make of this instance?

Yes, the staff was already semi-broken, but does he go on to completely demolish the titanium staff in frustration with his bare hands? (Kudos to @theaphaeon for pointing this out!)

You be the judge.

Nonetheless, for me, what really proves Donatello’s strength are these scenes:

Donnie doesn’t just carry out this feat once, but twice!

Not only does Donnie hold up the combined weight of ALL of his brothers, but he does it via one leg. For a normal person, if all of that weight was put on one leg they would be severely injured. But for Donnie, this is just a silly mode of travel with his beloved bros. Meanwhile, his jet pack is struggling under the combined weight of all four turtles...

All-in-all, I just wanted to really highlight the turtles' physical strength and remind myself that strength is not just a Raphie thing, but something that stems across all of the turtle teens.

Do you guys have any more examples of the boys being the powerful weapons they were created to be without using their Hamato Ninpo?

All comments and reblogs are welcome! 💜

#starkiss ramblings #rise analysis #rottmnt analysis #character analysis #rise leonardo #rise leo #rise raph #rise raphael #rise mikey #rise michelangelo #rise donnie #rise donatello #donatello #michelangelo #leonardo #raphael #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt raphael #leonardo hamato #raphael hamato #michelangelo hamato #donatello hamato #rottmnt #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt2018 #tmnt 2k18

[ranilla-bean]

culture tips for writing asian settings: tea varieTEAs

atla's got major Tea Guy representation in iroh but let's be real, even non-tea guys are going to be drinking tea in an asian-inspired setting—you'd be served it instead of water most places. so, what kind of tea are you picking for them?

as an east asian reader, it can take me out of the setting to see the characters drink something like chamomile (from europe/west asia) or... most herbal teas, to be honest. ngl it was weird to see iroh in the show, characterised as a huuuuuuge tea snob, drink stuff like jasmine (it's fine it's just basic, is all! imo!) or like.... a random flower he encounters in the wild.

when we're talking tea, real asian tea, we're talking about the leaf of the camellia sinensis plant. the huge variety we have of tea is actually from the different ways of processing that exact same leaf. popular varieties include:

green: the leaf goes through minimal processing, can have a bright and even leafy/grassy flavour (examples: gunpowder, longjing aka dragon well, matcha, genmaicha)

white: also undergoes minimal processing, with a lighter flavour than even green (examples: silver needle, shou mei)

oolong: the leaf is semi-oxidised, curled, and twisted—can be characterised by a tanniny flavour with a bright aftertaste. my personal favourite! (examples: da hong pao, tieguanyin, dong ding, alishan)

dark (black): note this isn't the same as black tea as we think of it in english. the leaf is fermented to produce an earthy tea with a flavour like petrichor (examples: pu'er)

all the teas listed in the "examples" are fairly credible teas that i think a real tea snob like iroh would drink.

ok, but what about...

"black tea" as we know it in the west—assam and ceylon etc? this variety is actually called "red tea" in chinese. we don't drink it with milk but to be honest, i've just... never really heard of anyone drinking chinese red tea? which is why i've kept it off the list. (there's lapsang souchong, but i associate that with bri'ish people...) anyone who does drink it, let me know! on the other hand something like assam/ceylon, while extremely delicious and also asian, is a product of british colonialism and is consumed with milk. i think if you wanted to massage some of the traditions & have chai-drinking indian-influenced characters, though, that's cool!

do you actually not drink herbal tea? we do... but a lot of it is considered medicinal. we've got stuff like herbal "cooling tea" with ingredients like sour plum, mesona, or crysanthemum; tea that warms you up like ginseng or ginger. the whole concept of hot/cold in chinese medicine though... that deserves another culture post

camellia leaf murdered my family & i have a grudge against it; what else can my blorbos drink? there'a some good, tasty stuff made of wheat, barley, buckwheat, even soybean. wouldn't be egregious for the characters to drink that!

is milk sacriligeous? a real tea snob would think so, but a lot of asians nowadays are chill about milk in tea—usually in western-influenced red tea. hong kong, thailand, india, taiwan, and malaysia (among others) have their own cultures of milk tea, which has even become a democratic rallying point.

what do you think of iroh inventing bubble tea? my main issue with it is it's anachronistic! it was invented in taiwan in the late 20th century, but atla's set in the equivalent of the mid-19th century... you could also make arguments about whether iroh's too snobby about tea to invent it LOL

there's soooo much more i can say about all this so: keep your eyes peeled! i'll talk about medicine & tea ceremony in the near future <3

disclaimer | more tips

#atla #atla culture #atla meta #avatar the last airbender #iroh #asian culture tips #tea #so i'm making this post as not QUITE a certified Tea SnobTM the way iroh is #but i do really love and enjoy many east asian teas #and i start every day off with a cup of strong milk tea (probably reflecting my own cultural heritage tho ;) ) #and i do look down on white ppl tisanes. that shit aint good!!

[phantomrose96]

Savit-e

My host mother is a woman with long twirling hair and more floral-patterned sundresses than I’ve seen in my entire life. She throws open the closet each morning to flick each dress along its hanging rail, sharp squeaks. “What can I even wear?” The dresses sway like summer willows. I sneak in behind her and grab a t-shirt and jeans from my tiny pile at the bottom.

She loves earrings that swing and she loves stain-glass windchimes which clink and muse while she pours me the bitterest cup of tea I’ve ever had in my life. I fill it with sugar and she chides me. I remind her of all the spicy dishes I make that she cannot eat, and she says, “Okay, I’ll let it go this one time.” She sips her tea black. The birds titter at her joke. We’ll have the same conversation tomorrow.

My host mother is Jira and I wonder how closely we might be related every time I catch that glimmer in her eyes like my mothers’. Jira is too tall to be my mother and her hair is not quite dark enough, but I like to believe I see it. I like to believe Jira’s country and mine are related, that maybe her great-great-grandparents and mine were friends before the records were scorched and the lines were redrawn. Or maybe our countries bore no relation to each other. Maybe they were friends anyway. Maybe they were enemies. I’ve heard every opinion.

Jira has a worry-face like my mother, but she uses it for different things, like plum prices at the market and rain clouds blundering through like clumsy creatures. It used to surprise me, since my mother reserved her worry-face for only the dourest things in her mind. I saw more and more of it from my mother before I left. “Baby maybe you should spend the summer home. Maybe you can get your money back.” She said she’d been reading things in the news. I told her not to worry. I would be safe in my travels. I feel stares pressing into my back while Jira leans over the plums. I notice Jira receives the stares too.

She hums a tune and busies herself in the kitchen in a dress I’ve never seen. She’s been in a great mood since her daughter came home this morning. I didn’t get a good look at her daughter at first because Jira swallowed her right up in her arms. But I got to see her better when I helped bring her bags in. Savine is lithe, baby-faced and a head shorter than Jira, and her eyes carry the same arch and slope as Jira’s. She has the same dimples and she moves in the same way, tilted forward, as if to let gravity do the work of carrying her momentum.

Savine is napping from her trip, and Jira seems to have forgotten all the slow and patient syllables she usually saves for me. She speaks in her rapid pace and I jog to keep up. Too many words slip through my grasp. One in particular I hear too many times. Savit-e.  

“Savit-e?” I ask.

Jira puckers her lips as if to think. Her eyes rove. Footsteps tap gently closer behind me, and Jira’s eyes light up as she looks past me.

“Savit-e!” she says, motioning forward as Savine rounds the counter and pulls her mom into another hug. Savine is only 10. She’s been away almost 6 months for school, according to Jira.

A nickname, I note. Savine wears earrings like windchimes as well.

…

Jira has offered to charge me no rent if I babysit Savine for the summer and cook dinner in the evenings. Savine’s summer classes are early and short, as are mine, so I pick Savine up every day at noon. “This is Reb. She’s my mom’s friend this summer,” Savine tells her school friends. I gather that Jira does something similar every year, taking in an au pair while she works the summer.

There is a park Savine likes in particular, with the tall slides and the cold water fountains and all her friends. It takes me a few days to realize her friends are new to even her. Any child at the park becomes her friend by nature of needing two to play the teeter-totter. I meet parents and I practice my clumsy language with them. They don’t stare strangely at me like the man in the plum aisle.

Three times over the summer, I hear a parent at the park ask me. “Who is Savit-e?�� I point to Savine every time. I don’t think too much about it, because they always like the answer, nodding along. Savine’s friends do not use the nickname, but I experiment with it here and there. Savine lights up when I do. “Savit-e,” I call to her from the school lawn, and she squeals and bounds forward to wrap me in the kind of hug she gives her mother.

I pick up a copy of the newspaper from the corner store every day on my way to pick up Savine, and I read what I can of it at the park. The newspaper is not a person, and it does not stilt its vocabulary to be simple and clear the way people do when they notice me struggling with the tongue, so oftentimes I gather just the concepts from articles. It is my fourth week of doing this when one article stops me. I see the spelling of what Jira says out loud so often.

Savit-e.

The article is hard, but I recognize the word for murder, and the words for three men. Three men murdered, and Savit-e. I would ask Savine, but I’m afraid the article may be something upsetting.

I ask Jira that night, after Savine has gone to bed.

“A man killed three others,” Jira says, brow slightly scrunched as she skims the paper and distills its contents to simpler words I know. Her eye creases are deep by the evening lamplight. “He is not charged with a crime, because he was protecting his Savit-e.”

This sinks in slowly, and a red flush of embarrassment makes itself known on my cheeks.

“Savit-e… as in ‘daughter’?”

I use my own word for it, since I don’t know Jira’s word for daughter. Or at least, I did not know, until now.

Jira’s brow scrunch tightens, which she does whenever I’ve used one of my words she doesn’t know.

“Like Savine is to you. Savine is your daughter.”

At this, Jira nods slowly, then more quickly as she lets the meaning sink in. “Yes… Savine is my Savit-e… my daughter.”

I thank Jira for the explanation. I lie awake that night thinking too much about the parents at the park who think Savine is my Savit-e.

…

I start to dislike the newspaper. I’m not sure if it’s the summer heat sewing aggravation, or some deeper unrest, or maybe my own growing vocabulary, but more and more I notice articles that leave me unsettled. I read about the arrest of a man who looks like the man in the plum aisle. Maybe there’s no resemblance at all. Maybe any man with those piercing eyes in a mug shot feels like the man in the plum aisle. There are still many words I don’t know, but country and nation come up often. And Savit-e. More articles of someone acting in protection of their Savit-e.

My mother isn’t here to protect me. I walk more cautiously when I’m alone at night, as a woman, as a Savit-e with no parents here to protect me.

I’m in the kitchen with a knife shunking through the angled cuts of scallion. The pot for the noodles is boiling and I’ve halved the spices as I do every night for Jira and Savine. I don’t even hear the front door kick open.

I do hear Savine scream.

My heart is in my throat and my blood is cold, and I move, because in the moment I have forgotten I am a Savit-e far away from home. All that matters is Savine’s scream.

And my sockless feet are light as I snake through the dining room and round the corner to the living room, entering from the same door as the two men who now stand there, backs to me, both eagerly teasing the handles of a gun. One has Savine in a chokehold, and the men stare at Jira, pressed flat against the wall. I realize Jira does have a worry-face she reserves for the truly awful things.

And the men with their backs to me are plum-men, in ways I understand without knowing what fast and clipped words they’re shouting at Jira. The one holding Savine presses the barrel of his gun against her ear, and the windchime titter of her earrings is drowned under her scream of fear. The plum man barks a demand at Jira, and she watches with moon-plate eyes.

He barks it again.

Jira raises a trembling hand. And her digits curl, and her palm pulls inward, and her earrings clink with the slow stuttering shake of her head. She points her index finger firmly against her own heart, and she declares ‘Savit-e’.

Jira runs out through the second living room door.

“Mooooom! Savit-e!!” Savine screams, and her words choke, and she wriggles under the hold of the man. And suddenly sense returns to my body at the sound of Savine’s screams.

I am still holding the scallion knife.

I don’t remember what I do next, but the knife does.

…

There is a drawl of radio static that seems to dominate my ears. The sirens and flashing lights are background noise to me now. They’ve taken Savine away with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. They’ve assured me I’ll be able to see her, but later, once she’s been looked at, once she’s calmed down, once I’ve been spoken to.

“You are not in trouble,” the detective tells me in my own tongue with a slight accent rounding her words. She’s the only one who speaks my language. They called her in when it became clear I didn’t know enough of theirs to give a report. “You were protecting your Savit-e.”

I flinch, a little bit, somehow still capable of embarrassment with a mind that’s gone completely numb. “Savine isn’t my Savit-e.”

The woman detective frowns. I remember we’re in my own tongue.

“I mean, she’s not my daughter. She’s Jira’s daughter. She’s Jira’s Savit-e.”

The woman’s frown lessens some. “Your daughter, no. Your Savit-e, yes.”

I hold my hands near my face. They still smell of garlic and scallions. “The pot’s gonna boil over. I have to go turn off the stove,” I say, urgently, and unhelpfully, as the thought suddenly strikes and I push myself standing.

The woman’s hand is on my shoulder, and she presses me down. “The pot is not boil. The stove is off. It is okay. Who is Savit-e?”

And the question sits weird. I realize she asks it like those parents at the park.

I don’t answer. The detective chews her lip, and I see her eyes searching for a word she can’t find. “Who is your… The Most? Who is your The Above? Who is your The Most of All?”

“My most what?”

“Who is your Protect Over Everything?”

And from her face I can tell she is frustrated with her own words. There is more she is saying that I cannot know in my own language.

Protect Over Everything. I think about the scream that pulled me from the kitchen.

“I think… Savine… is my Protect Over Everything.”

And this satisfies the woman. And she nods the way the parents at the park do. “You are not in trouble. You always protect Savit-e. You must always. There is no trouble for what you did. Good job, that you protect your Savit-e. You will have her back soon.”

I go stiff.

“Jira needs her back, not me. I go home in a few weeks. I only started—” I falter. “Savine is Jira’s Savit-e.”

The detective shakes her head. “Jira is Jira’s Savit-e. Jira does not come back.”

…

I postpone my flight home. I tell my mother it’s because my studies are going long. I’ll tell her more, later, when I’m ready.

I pick up Savine every day from school as always. She doesn’t smile, and she pulls me into a hug that is too tight and lasts too long. She doesn’t want to go to the park. She comes grocery shopping with me, because it’s better than being left home alone. I look over my shoulder whenever I grab the plums.

I cook dinner and I eat with Savine, and we do this at the counter because when I sit us at the kitchen table, Savine looks too long at Jira’s empty place. I tried calling Jira once, after Savine went to bed. Her phone rang from the next room. I watched it ring until it cut to voicemail.

There’s an article about me in the paper. I can’t read most of it. Or maybe I just don’t try to. I see Jira’s name. I see the plum man words. I see Savit-e written 14 times.

I don’t know what happens to Savine if I leave. I’ve tried asking and I get too many words I do not know, and no one who can explain them better to me. But their expressions stay with me. Like the looks of plum-men and worry-faces and now this new look, which is rooted in something deeper about a country which I know too little about. It’s a sad look. It’s something I can maybe understand without the words attached. I tell my mom I might like to extend my study through the fall.

Savine has started calling me “Savit-e.”

#writing #original writing #i had a thought and it became a thing

[cillianhead]

Hi, I love love love everything you write! Your so talented could you please write something about Emmett. He & y/n have arrived on the island and Emmett can't wait to make love to her without being quiet. Thank you ❤️

You are amazing thank you <3

I love Emmett...

that film was what got me into Cillian. Literally remember going nuts over how hot he was.

Anyway... hope you enjoy!!

Scream For Me || Emmett x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected P in V, oral sex (m receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, adult content.

18+ Minors DNI

The island was safe. You kept repeating in your head, and you couldn't help but flinch as everyone spoke out loud or did something a little too noisy. You just sat and waited for the horrid creatures to get them but they never came because they couldn't swim. Emmett easily talked aloud, it was strange, this was the first time you had really heard him talk so loud. Of course, you'd speak louder than a whisper but never this openly. His voice made you feel all woozy and shy in such a pathetic way.

"I reckon we're gonna head to bed now..." Emmett murmured to the group around the fire, he looked at you, seeing your nervousness. This was only your second night on the island, you still hadn't quite adjusted yet to a comfortable bed and clean clothes... and working showers. "It was lovely talking to you all, goodnight." Emmett patted a few guys on the back, waving politely before sauntering to you.

Emmett picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, you gasped at this, looking at the people giggling at you two. They had a small empty house for the two of you to live in, it was nice enough. Nicer than anything you'd find back out on the mainland.

"So quiet," Emmett hummed as he sat you down on the foot of your bed. A look of hunger was evident on his face. "You're such a good girl, Y/N." He knelt down in front of you, torso in between your legs as he peppered kisses along your neck and collarbone.

"Emmett..." You whispered.

"No need to whisper here, sweet girl," He grinned at you. "You can be as loud as you want."

You leaned in, kissing him desperately, the way he pawed at you made you feel weak. Hands slipping underneath your cotton sweater and pulling it over your head, breaking the kiss. "No bra?" Emmett smirked before teeth sank into the top of your left breast, sucking in and creating a plum-colored bruise. He was trying to elicit a reaction out of you, trying to get you to moan, trying to get you to be loud.

"God... Em..." You said through shaky breaths, a little louder this time. He kept marking you until your entire chest was littered with love bites with teeth marks indented around it like some sort of peculiar pattern of rosettes. "Markin' you as mine," He grunted before latching a mouth onto your erect nipple. "Everyone's gonna see ya love, gonna see how you belong to me, and you're my girl" Emmett pulled away from you, pulling off his clean white shirt, revealing his chest hair and the snail trail that tucked itself away under his trousers.

"Emmett... we haven't... had sex in so long..." You bit your lip, thinking about how you had been so stressed and so busy trying to survive that you never really had time to do anything. You thought about how last night you two had separate showers. You had a long hot shower, the first in a long time. Of course, you bathed in creeks but it wasn't the same. You had been given a fresh clean razor when you first arrived on the island as well. Emmett chose to neatly trim his beard but he still kept it long. He knew how you loved his beard.

"I know, need you so fucking bad, feel..." He grabbed your wrist and placed it over his clothed cock, letting you feel how rock-hard he was. You reached up and eagerly tugged down his pants, the ones that fit him so nicely, they were slightly high-waisted and they weren't caked in dirt or old blood. You wondered what Emmett was like before this all started, you wondered how you two would've gotten along, though you quickly remembered that he had a wife before all of this. "Gonna suck my cock? Must be a special occasion, go on, baby, suck me off."

You give a timid lick to the weeping head of his cock, sighing happily at the taste of his precum on the tip of your tongue. "Don't tease." He said firmly. Emmett held you by your hair which was pulled up into a makeshift ponytail. You looked up at him as you slowly wrapped your lips around the tip, sucking harshly and feeling pleased as you see his eyes flutter shut, sinking even further down on his shaft.

Emmett's hips bucked into your mouth involuntarily, you gagged and he moaned at the sight of you. Spit dribbling out of your mouth, lips stretched around his thick cock and eyes all watery for him. One of your fingers slipped underneath your shorts, slowly rubbing at your clit and moaning around his dick as he began fucking in and out of your mouth, letting tears slip down your face.

"I love your little mouth," He grunted deliriously, hands on either side of your head as he fucked it harshly, using you like a fleshlight. "I wanna cum down your throat... fuck... but I need to be inside you." He slowly pulled his wet cock from your dribbling mouth. You gasped in for air, massaging your aching jaw as he stroked himself slowly.

"I want you to cum inside of me... please..." You whispered. He had never done that before, the last thing you two needed was for you to get pregnant during a time like this. But things were different now, you were on the island, and maybe you could raise a baby together finally. "Please... Emmett..." Your glossy eyes looked up at him, pleading silently with him.

Emmett's eyes glazed over, he looked like was high as you slipped your shorts and underwear off, revealing your freshly shaved cunt to him. His jaw fell open as he whimpered, "Fuck, look at that," Emmett let go of himself and approached you slowly, pushing you down and spreading your legs open to look down at this new look for you. "What a pretty little thing... can't believe you did this for me."

"All for you, daddy." You hummed quietly, no louder than you would when you'd fuck in the bunker. He grunted at the nickname as he fell down on top of you, holding himself up with one arm and the other helped guide his throbbing hard-on to your gushing pussy. "Are you gonna cum in me?" "So desperate for it, 'course I'm gonna fuckin' cum in ya," He remarked, pushing into you slowly. "How could I deny you of that? Especially 'cause you asked so nicely."

You arched your back, slapping a hand over your mouth to cover your moans like you always did for him as his cock was now fully sheathed within you. The stretch ached deliciously, pussy clenching around him, begging him to move.

"Fuck..." You whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head, nails digging into Emmett's strong shoulders. "Emmett..." You whispered. You were trying your best to stay quiet as he began grinding into you.

"Speak up for me," Emmett groaned, rolling his hips right into where you needed him. "Need to hear you scream for me, baby... I know you've got it in you."

You shook your head, whimpering as he fucked you like a pornstar, panting above you, mouth agape and eyes clearly displeased with your disobedient reaction. One of his nimble fingers slipped down your stomach and onto your pulsing clit, you were painfully aroused, every stroke of his dick brushing perfectly against your g-spot. Your mind goes completely blank, legs squeezing and shaking around him, nails leaving claw marks on Emmett's biceps. You couldn't help but start to scream, he was fucking you so passionately you couldn't hold it in.

"That's it," He breathily said. "That's my girl, tell me how good I'm fucking you." "So good!" You moaned, sounding like you were being railed within an inch of your life. His balls slapped against your ass and Emmett's hands now were gripping onto your hips, holding you tightly, manhandling you into the bed and using you to chase his own pleasure. You were a mess, an extremely loud mess, on the brink of tears at how good he fucked you. "God.... daddy! Oh... fuck... wanna have your babies!"

A sick grin spread across his blissed-out face, high on the feeling of your tight cunt all stretched out around him. "Then I'll give you my babies if that's what you want, gonna cream in you, gonna fill you with my cum every fuckin' night til..." He gasped out, stuttering on his words, you were squeezing him tighter than ever, his raspy tone of voice bringing you closer to cumming your brains out. "...Gonna fill you with my cum every night til... I see you walkin' round all pregnant and glowing with my kid in you."

You nodded your head desperately and cried like a slut, Emmett leaned down and intimately pressed his forehead against your own, thrusts sloppy as you felt the orgasm unleash itself upon you. The pleasure is hot and white and consuming, words incoherent as you scream out. His own seed fills you like an endless fountain, the vibrations of his own moaning in your neck send you further down that spiral of pleasure.

"Oh, daddy..." You're gasping out for air, your hands cupping your own tits as he still rutted into you, almost a bit pathetically, his cum spilling out of you as his seed just kept on coming. "So... so full..."

His eyes are squeezed shut, the veins in his forehead prominent as he slowly begins to come down. He didn't say a word as he collapsed on top of you, catching his breath, sweaty skin pressed against you. "My love... took me so well..."

"I think I was too loud..." You bit your lip, feeling incredibly flustered and embarrassed at how you knew the rest of the island probably heard your late night shenanigans.

"No such thing," Emmett pressed wet kisses along your jaw, trailing them until he reached your lips. "Prettiest thing I've ever heard." He whispered, speaking right into your mouth. "I'm gonna make you scream until your throat is raw, I'm addicted to your sounds."

You could feel him grow hard again and his hungry lips took yours in his again and the screaming began again, this time concealed within a kiss.

-

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #emmett #a quiet place #a quiet place 2 #a quiet place part ii #emmett x reader #emmett a quiet place #cillian murphy imagine #emmett smut

[mamaestapa]

New Years smut w Jamie!!

Meet me at Midnight|| Jamie Drysdale x reader

• pairing: jamie drysdale x reader

• summary: you jamie have more than a new years kiss to ring in the new year

• warnings: SMUT! unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, jamie loves boobs, uhhh i think that’s all lol

Jamie’s hands roamed up your mini black dress clad body as he sucked harshly at your neck. He was definitely leaving deep purple bruises along your collarbone and neck, but he didn’t care.

Jamie loved to mark you up. He loved to show everyone that you were his and his only.

You whimpered softly as your boyfriend’s hands cupped your butt cheeks, giving each cheek a squeeze as his lips crashed onto yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, resting on his upper back as Jamie hoisted you up onto the counter. He brought a hand up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer to him as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“How many more minutes until midnight?” You asked, panting softly from the heavy make-out session. Jamie glanced at his phone that was sitting on the counter beside you. “Five. Think you can make it?”

“Definitely.”

Jamie smirked at your response as he traced over the diamond patter on the neckline of your dress before pulling the straps to the side so he could get a good view of your perky breasts in the black cups lined with lace. He groaned at the sight of your breasts. Jamie loved your boobs. He lowered his head and began to kiss along your chest, licking the soft skin of your breasts before sucking at the skin. If he kept this up, you wouldn’t make it to midnight.

You and Jamie were at a New Year’s Eve party hosted by some of this teammates. Obviously, Jamie was going to be your new years kiss, but after long night of taking shots, sipping on a drink or two, and dancing until your legs were numb, the two of you had a better idea than just sharing a new years kiss.

Jamie wanted to make you cum as soon as the clock hit midnight. Not a minute before nor a minute after, it had to be at 12 AM on the dot. He wanted you to both to start the new year off on a high note, and a mind blowing orgasm or two was the perfect way to ensure that that happened. So a quickie in his teammates laundry room would have to do…

Jamie pulled the bottom of your dress up, giving him just enough access to your soaking core through the diamond slit in the upper thigh of your dress. As he pushed your dress to the side and pulled your panties down your smooth legs, you hurried to undo Jamie’s belt. Once the belt was undone, the dark haired boy pulled his dress pants down in one swift motion. You wet your lips at the sight of his boner through his boxers. You needed him so bad.

“I don’t have a condom, you’re still on the pill right? If not we can-.”

“Jamie,” you all but whimpered, “Forget the condom. I need you inside me right now.”

Jamie wasted no time, pulling his boxers down and lining himself up with your slick entrance before he thrusted into you. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his tip pushing against your cervix. You clawed at his plum dress shirt covered back as the sound of your sweet moans filled his ears.

“Fuck,” Jamie grunted, “so tight, feels good.”

His thrusts picked up pace as the minutes ticked by. As midnight approached you felt yourself growing closer to your release. Jamie placed his hands on firmly on your hips as he kissed at your neck. You were a whimpering mess as Jamie pounded relentlessly into you. The feeling of pleasure was overwhelming you and Jamie as the two of you panted from the fast pace. You brought your hands up to Jamie’s head, tugging harshly at his soft dark hair as his thrusts quickened.

“J, ‘m close.”

“Wait for midnight sweetheart.”

The muffled sound of the others counting down the seconds to the new year started.

Ten.

“Oh Jamie.”

Nine.

You whimpered softly from Jamie’s touch. It all felt so good.

Eight.

You bucked your hips into Jamie, the sounds the boy made as he fucked you had you growing closer and closer.

Seven.

Midnight couldn’t come fast enough…

Six.

“Jamie-uh,” you moaned as you fell forward into his chest, “don’t think I can make it.”

Five.

“Yes you can baby.”

Four.

Jamie’s cock twitched inside you as you felt the coil in your lower belly threaten to snap with each thrust of your boyfriend’s hips. The two of you were moaning messes.

Three.

Your bodies were growing sticky with sweat and your chests heaved with each pant. So close…

Two.

“That’s it,” Jamie praised through his grunts, “cum for me pretty girl.”

One.

You moaned Jamie’s name loudly as you reached your climax. Jamie followed, panting your name and a number of praises as spurts of his hot cum spilled out of you. Jamie crashed his lips onto yours as your chests heaved. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

“Happy New Year Jamie baby.” You breathed out as you pressed your forehead against his. He chuckled softly at your blissed out smile, “Happy New Year sweetheart.”

You got your New Years kiss and a mind blowing orgasm. 2024 definitely started off on the right foot for you and Jamie...

hi loves!!

happy new year😚 to celebrate the start of a new year, i’ve decided to do a blurb day & night. and we’re starting off strong with a jamie blurb ;)

i hope you all have a great day! i’ll be posting more throughout the day so stay tuned🤍

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale smut #jamie drysdale imagines #blurb night! #new years blurbs

[whiskeyghoul]

Green green dress || [Spencer Reid x F!Reader] Pt.1

A/N: watched tick tick boom again and this song has been stuck on repeat in my mind so please enjoy the ramblings of a woman possessed. 

Read pt.2 here

Tags: Established relationship, female reader, no y/n, fluff, mentions of smut? more like alluding to smut, BAU reader, tick tick boom reference. MDNI.

Wordcount: 1.4K

Your hands smoothed over the non existent wrinkles of your dress. Dark, emerald green and velvet. It hugged every curve of your body just right, complimenting your natural shape so well. Emily, JJ, and Penelope had convinced you to buy it on one of the few girls days you had together. One where dress shopping was necessary for your evening out in a bar. It had been a risky pick, different from your usual attire and the plunging neckline was something you hadn’t dared to wear before. It was just a bit too out there to be worn casually, so it had hung in your closet, waiting for the perfect opportunity to wear it.

What better opportunity than an end of year party at the Rossi house hold? Where the Christmas lights would still be up, creating the perfect ambiance with the soft music that carried throughout the house. The decadent food, expensive wine, and the perfect atmosphere. With Spencer as your date you were more than excited for the evening. 

You picked up the dark plum lipstick that sat on the vanity with your other makeup, applying a quick swipe to your lips and pressing them together. “Are you almost ready?” Spencer called from down the hall. You could hear his footsteps move closer to your shared bedroom in his apartment. He’d given you the space to get ready while he sat and read one of his many books. “Almost, love.” You called back, placing the lipstick back down and fussing with your hair a bit. Trying to get it to fall just right. Perfectly effortless wasn’t as effortless as you had hoped. The door creaked open, Spencer walking in and stopping in his tracks in the door opening. 

You turned your head, looking at Spencer who stood frozen in place, hands stilled as he had been fixing his tie. His eyes focussed on you, almost entranced as he took you in. “Spence?” You asked, wondering if you had perhaps gone too out there. Like you had overdressed for some reason. You didn’t think you had. Now, a bit unsure of yourself, you got out of your chair, walking a bit closer. “Wow…” Spencer breathed out. Relief washed over you. “You had me worried for a second.” You admitted, a nervous smile playing on your lips. “Worried? You look stunning. I think you literally took my breath away just now.” Spencer rambled as he finally found his voice again. Eyes lingering on your body, taking you in as you move closer to him. His hands reach out, pulling you towards him by the waist. “I thought I overdressed.” You added, hands landing on his chest and smoothing over his suit jacket until you laced your fingers behind his neck. The hairs in his nape brushing against your skin. 

Spencer seemed to think for a moment, “Maybe you did, I think we should just stay home. It would be embarrassing to outshine everyone.” He stated, pulling your body against his. Seemingly completely enthralled by your look. A small laugh escaped you. The underlying motive to his words was clear enough. He’d rather forgo the party if it meant he could be the one taking off your dress right now. “Oh no, I did not take all that time to get ready to not be seen.” You scolded gently, playfully even. “I see you.” Spencer quickly retorted. He leaned in, quickly capturing your lips with his own to stifle any protest you would throw at him. You melted into the kiss, tightening your hands to hold Spencer closer. His hands tightened in the fabric of your dress, causing it to rise slightly exposing more of your stockings. 

You pulled away slightly from the kiss, hands moving down to cover Spencer’s. “We’re going to be late.” You whispered, lips ghosting over his lips. He breathed out through his nose, his grip loosening on your dress. “Let's be late for once.” He whispered. His eyes were filled with lust as he looked at you. You trailed your right hand up his arm, to finally reach his face, gently swiping your thumb over his lips to remove the lipstick you had left behind. His lips parted slightly, almost involuntarily before he kissed the pad of your thumb. His eyes are big, looking at you pleadingly. “Please?” he said. It was hard to say no to him, especially when he sounded so sweet. You’d give him anything he wanted if you could.

“I’ll do anything you want when we come home. We can’t miss this one, everyone will be there.” You said, not wanting to give in to his every whim. It was going to be a special evening after all. You didn’t want to miss it. You didn’t want to miss Rossi’s cooking if you were really honest. “Anything?” Spencer raised his brows slightly, you knew there were millions of things running through his head at that moment. “Anything.” You repeated with a grin. He released your dress, seemingly content with your promise of anything he’d desire, just later in the evening.

You quickly leaned up, pecking his lips in a quick kiss. Leaving another dusting of plum lipstick on his lips. “Let’s go, before we’re too late.” you added, turning away from Spencer and leaving the bedroom. His footsteps followed you to the front door, where your heels had been parked and waiting for you. Quickly sliding them on with practiced ease. Spencer held out your coat, ready to slide it on for you like he often does. “I still think we should stay home.” Spencer commented as you moved your arms into the jacket sleeves. He pulled it over your shoulders as you laughed in response to his comment. “We’ll stay home all day tomorrow too. So please, let’s have this dinner.” You said as you took his hand, lacing your fingers together, leading him out the front door and to his car. 

Arriving at David’s house went smoothly, you were a bit later than you hoped and saw the multitude of cars already parked in the driveway to the house. Lights lined either way of the walkway up to the house where the deck was lit up with twice as many lights as usual. The smell of pork and greens wafted from the house signaling dinner was being made. You walked up with Spencer, his hand on the small of your back as he guided you to the front door. Before you could even knock the door swung open with David in the opening, welcoming and ushering you inside. “Sorry we’re late.” You apologized, it was only 10 minutes after the agreed upon time but you still felt slightly bad. “Don’t sweat it, I’m sure you had to take some time to get ready. Would you like something to drink?” David immediately offered, guiding you to the living room after you hung your coats away.

Spencer’s hand was back on your waist, holding you closer to him as you walked. It was different. Yes he was often quite touchy with you but this was an unusual amount of affection. The chatter from your colleagues came from the living room, the lights were dimmed to enhance the cozy atmosphere. The two of you entered the room, the warmth inside put a blush on your face. “Finally you’re here!” Penelope exclaimed from her spot next to Derek, getting up and pulling you in for a hug. “You say it like we made you wait an hour.” Spencer chuckled before greeting the others. “It felt like it.” Penelope chided before she finally let you go. “Look at you, in the dress and everything! Gorgeous!" She complimented and took a step back. “You too, Pen. Gorgeous like always.” you smiled as you looked at the quintessential Penelope outfit but dialed up to 11.

David handed you a glass of red wine while informing everyone of how long the wait would be for dinner to be served. Pulled along with Penelope she seated you between her and Emily. Spencer sitting next to Derek, just out of reach from where you’d rather have him. You caught his look at you, the way his eyes flicked down to your legs as you sat down, dress riding up ever so slightly.

For someone surrounded by profilers he really didn’t try to hide what he was thinking about.

End note: I am working on pt.2 and is already over the length of pt.1 and I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. send help.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #Spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #wip #part 1 #mdni #tick tick boom #green green dress

[ohtobeleah]

for #PL1 can you please do some jake seresin fluff with 15 18 👀💗 also congratulations on reaching the milestone!!!! u deserve it sm ♥️♥️

15 - “She’s/he’s not my boyfriend!”

18 - “I think it’s adorable how easily you blush.”

Okay what else do we need?” You asked your daughter as you strolled the isles of the grocery stores looking at your list as you both did this week's weekly shopping haul. 

“Aunty Nix said we need plums—“ Isabella reminded you politely as she held onto the side of the shopping cart. “And washing powder, because Rooster broke the glass jar, remember?” Neither of those items were on your list—but both items you needed. 

“Okay, you go get the plums for me and I’ll grab some ham for your sandwiches alright?” You watched as your seven year old nodded and let go for the shopping cart. “Okay, grab about eight? And watch out for bruises okay.” 

“I got it mum!” Izzy called out as you chuckled softly and watched her make her way through the fresh produce section as you strolled over towards the deli and took a number. 

You and your daughter had moved to Fightertown for a few months after you and your husband finally settled your divorce. You were still looking for a place to settle into so you were currently living with your half sister Natasha. From your mom's second marriage. Seems as though you were following in her footsteps when it came to love.

For a while it was just you and Izzy—but then you finally met the one and only Jake Hangman Seresin. To be quite honest Natasha was purposefully trying to keep you and Jake from meeting as long as she could. She knew once he’d met you it was game over, he’d weasel his way into your life on a more permanent basis eventually. 

And that’s exactly what Jake was trying to do. 

“Hi there Izzy girl.” Jake beamed as he ran into your daughter by the plums in the fresh produce section of the grocery store. “Stone fruit season is pretty good isn’t it?” 

“I guess, whatever the hell that means?” Izzy shrugged, focusing on picking out the best of the bunch. Jake just chuckled out his nose as he looked around, trying to see if he could spot you.

“Where’s your mum?” Jake asked as he picked up a quarter of a watermelon and placed it in his basket. Izzy just pointed in the general direction of the deli. Jake followed your daughter's trajectory and soon enough he felt the heat rising in the apples of his cheeks as he caught the sight of you. “Ah, hey—do me a favour will you and say this to your mum when you go over to her.” 

Jake crouched to whisper in your daughter's ear and she giggled. She knew you liked Jake and that Jake liked you. She saw the way he looked at you like you were some sort of goddess who walked amongst mere mortal beings. Bradley looked at her Aunty Nix the same way and they were engaged, surely it had to mean something right? 

Izzy knew that Jake really liked you because she couldn’t ever remember a time when she’d seen her dad look at you the way Jake does. 

“Child labour is a real thing you know.” Izzy sighed as she turned all her attention to Jake, he absolutely adored your daughter. She was so vibrant and witty and kept everyone around her on their toes. “What’s in it for me?” Izzy asked as she kept Jake's stare, just waiting for him to fold. 

“Five bucks—“ Izzy contemplated Jake's offer for a few seconds before she politely accepted the transaction. She could buy a few lollipops with five dollars. What a score. “Go.” Tussling Izzy’s hair, Jake grinned as she laughed organically. “Before I call child protective services on your mother for letting you out of her sight.”

Isabella took off without much to add with her bag of plums in her hand and a cheeky grin smeared across her face as she ran back toward where you’d just ordered two handfuls of shaved ham off the bone. 

“I'm back.” She exclaimed as she held up the bag of fruit. “I ran into your boyfriend too.” Izzy laughed as she watched your eyes widen in shock horror at what she’d just said. “He said to tell you that he thinks you’re really pretty mommy.” 

Looking around the fresh produce section, your eyes scanned every square foot before they landed on none other than Jake Seresin. Immediately you felt yourself getting hot with embarrassment, 

“He’s not my boyfriend honey.” You tried to play it cool as Jake made his way over, ever so casually placing a gentle kiss to the warmth of your cheek. It made you melt into a puddle at his forwardness. The feeling of Jake's large hand splayed across the small of your back made your heart do leaps inside your chest. “Hi Hangman—“ 

“Hi mama, fancy seeing you here on a Sunday morning?” Jake cooed, his signature smile plastered across his perfect face. You’d only just made it back to your sister’s place this morning before Izzy was waking up, you’d stayed the night at Jake’s after dinner at Alfonso’s diner. 

“Just doing the weekly shop—“ You replied as Izzy watched the two of you interact, watching a live story play out before her very eyes. “What about you, Flyboy?” 

“Same thing, maybe we could carpool next week? Save on gas?” Jake teased as he watched you try and calm down, still flustered to the highest heaven after your daughter had referred to Jake as your boyfriend. “Oh you should see your face Y/n, I think it’s adorable how easily you blush.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4K celebration 🎊

#Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊 #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin x reader

[eddiesxangel]

Sugar and Spice | Santa!Eddie x Reader

Thank you to my beautiful darling Gia @onegirlmanytales for the prompt 🩷

“Santa Eddie and Sugar Plum are making a gingerbread house that turn into a food fight and then fucking in the kitchen while they lick the frosting off of each other ☺️”

wc: 1.4k

cw: pet names, p in v, blowjob, nipple play, food play

“Babe!” You scolded, “It will fall if you put too much icing!”

“How does that make sense? It’s like extra glue?”

Your gingerbread house looked like it belonged in Alaska with the amount of “snow” Eddie had used.

“I know, but it’s going to get too wet and gooey and crumble!” You huffed. You wanted it to look pretty and cute, not like it had been made by a 5-year-old.

“Oh, I know something that also crumbles when it gets wet and gooey,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Don’t be gross!” You laughed.

About half an hour later, you were still frustrated; the house walls were collapsing.

“Why won’t it stay!” You cried out in frustration.

“Why don’t we take a breather?”

“No, I want this to work!” You really should have listened to Eddie. You were at the point of steam coming out of your ears.

“Sugarplum…”

“What!”

You look up at him, and a little green jellybean bounces off your forehead.

“Eddie!” You scold as he is bent over laughing.

“It’s not funny!” You try to hold back your laughter, but how could you when it was so ridiculous?

You retaliated by tossing a handful of the peppermint swirls at Eddie.

“Oh, you wanna play it that way?” Eddie cocked an eyebrow.

“No! No! I take it back. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” But it was too late. Eddie had picked up the leftover icing and started to chase you around the kitchen table. You were quick. You managed to outrun him around four times, but then you got dizzy and tried to escape on the left. But Eddie was cunning and saw how your brain worked.

He anticipated the switch and got you by the wrist before you could escape.

“Got ya!” He tugged you into his middle and smeared the sweet white icing all over your cheeks.

“Babyyyyyyy” you whined.

“I didn’t think you could get any sweeter sugarplum.” Eddie bent down and licked a tiny bit off your cheek before peppering small kisses all over your face. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics.

You tried to shimmy your way out of his grip to get the piping bag, but he was too strong.

“You know… I can think of a better way to use this stuff…. It’s clearly not working on the house.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What do you have in mind?” You decided to play along.

“Take your shirt off, and I’ll show you.”

Eddie let you go tentatively… making sure you wouldn’t try anything in retaliation...

Eddie watched as you wrapped your arms around yourself and slowly lifted your red Christmas hoodie. His eyes glazed over when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra and that your nipples were already peaked and ready for Eddie’s attention.

You let out a squeak when you felt something cold and wet touch your chest. Eddie had squeezed the sugary substance onto your chest.

“Eddie!”

You watched as Eddie licked his lips before he tilted his head down and wrapped his mouth over your nipple, coated in the sweet, sugary goodness.

“Mmmmmmm” you let the weight of your head take over as you moaned with pleasure. With your neck exposed, Eddie took the chance to squeeze more icing into your supple skin.

“Oh-ohhh, that’s nice,” you stutter as the goosebumps spread across your skin.

“You taste so good… just like Sugar”

“I guess the nickname is fitting,” you sigh.

“Yes, it is, my sweet girl.” Eddie’s hands found your waist and pulled you in closer to him. He squeezed the icing into your lips and tossed the bag onto the kitchen table before kissing you sensually.

It was literally the sweetest kiss the two of you shared. The taste of ginger, vanilla icing, candy cane and Eddie swirled around in your tongue. You deepened the kiss; you wanted more, needed more. Eddie was intoxicating. Everything about him made you need more.

“What are you trying to start here, baby?” He asked playfully.

“Me? You got me half naked in our kitchen,” you mumbled into his mouth.

“Yes, just how I like you.” He bit your lower lip.

“I thought that was fully naked?” You slip your hands under the waistband of his plaid flannel pyjamas.

“You cheeky little thing. You trying to take advantage of me, Sugarplum?”

“Can’t a girl just love on her man?” You ran your hand lower to cup his hardening cock.

“You can do whatever you want,” his breath hitched.

“Got any of that icing left?” You slid his pants down his thighs.

“Oh, you cheeky little thing.” Eddie bit his lip and handed you back the bag.

You strategically squirted some in the tip right where a bead of precum lay. You begin to kitten lick the tip, collecting to set and salty taste of vanilla mixed with Eddie. You hummed at the taste and piped more icing all the way from the tip to the shaft, avoiding the soft, curly hair at the base.

“Oh you are a little tease”

“Just gotta get my fix,” you winked before licking him from top to bottom, following the line of sugary goodness you had placed down moments before. The fallen gingerbread house was long forgotten as you enveloped Eddie’s shaft in your mouth. Eddie’s eyes rolled back with suffering lashes as your warm mouth worked his shaft. The mix of saliva, icing and precum was a delicious lubricant on Eddie’s hard cock.

“Fuck you’re so good at this.” Eddie’s knees buckled as he leaned into the kitchen table for support.

“Better than gingerbread house making?”

“Shut up” his cock slipped off your lips with a loud *pop* and continued to work his cock with your hand.

“You know we’re out of icing, but I can think of something else white and sticky to help hold that house together.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed.

“Wh-aa what?” Eddie stuttered but cut you cut him off as you took just the tip back into your mouth and gently sucking on the head.

“You like that baby? You like having my cock in your mouth?”

You hummed in agreement. The vibration of your mouth was too much. Eddie needed to pull you off before he blew his load.

“I need to fuck you, Sugar” he helped you up and bent you over the kitchen table.

Your pussy was already dripping from the foreplay. It didn’t take much to get you ready for your man to finally stick it in you. You felt his hands spread your pussy lips before slowly plunging in two fingers.

“Ohhhhh,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his strong fingers massaged your inner walls.

“Yes baby get loud for me.”

“Mmmmmmfph”

“You ready for me sweetness?”

“Yes.”

You leaned into Eddie’s body as he stretched you out. The feeling of him filling you made you cry out in pleasure once again.

“Fuck, your pussy was made for me” Eddie gripped your hips with each hand and started to speed up his pace.

“It’s all yours,” you sigh.

Your mind went blank; the feeling of Eddie's cock brushing your walls was the only thing you could focus on. A blot of lighting struck through your body as Eddie wrapped his arm around you to give your clit the attention it desperately needed.

“You fuck me so good, baby!” You moaned as Eddie’s hips snapped against your ass. The sound of smacking skin filled the empty kitchen.

One of Eddie’s hands moved up from your hip to your hair. He gave your scalp a small tug to bring you up so you were flush with his chest. His other hand continued on your swollen bundle of nerves.

"Gotta fuck my girl right, can't have her running off," he spoke into the side of your neck before assaulting it with his mouth. You knew you would have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow. Thank god it's winter...

“Baby, I’m so close,” you whispered. The combination of him inside and on you was getting you close to your breaking point. “Can’t hold it anymore.”

“Let go for me, Sweetness”

You were cumming in an instant. Your shaking legs somehow held you up as your orgasm spread throughout your body.

“Good girl, let go for me,” he huffed. He baby you back down, and with one last stroke of his cock, he pulled out and let his release spurt out onto your ass and lower back.

“Why did you pull out?” You asked after you came back to earth moments later.

“ 'cuz I thought we could use more icing for the house…”

"Eddie!"

Santa sluts tag list: @slutty-thevampireslayer @reidsbtch @onegirlmanytales @chrrymunson @taintedcigs @xxhellfirebunnyxx

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson concept

[dreaming-medium]

Christmas Wrapping

Pairing: Changbin x reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: fluff fluff fluff

Summary: Your boyfriend is horrible at wrapping presents. How lucky that he has you to help him.

A/N: This isn’t proofread yet, but I couldn’t help but think of soft Christmas Binnie while I was wrapping presents today <3 Enjoy!

————————————————————————

“Oh lord.” It comes out of your mouth before you can stop it. Then, your statement is quickly followed by a snort and a laugh.

When you opened the door to you and your boyfriend’s shared apartment, the last thing you expected to see was him standing at your kitchen island wrapping presents.

Poppy Christmas music is playing loudly on the Alexa on the kitchen counter. He’s singing to himself, moving his hips back and forth to the beat.

The softest looking cashmere sweater stretches over his broad shoulders, dress pants barely containing his muscular legs.

He may be wrapping presents, but he’s the one that looks like a gift that’s only missing a bow.

The cherry on top was the Santa hat plopped on top of his curly hair.

‘Wrapping presents’ is a loose term though. The two parcels he’s done already are stacked on the counter with the worst wrap job you’ve ever seen in your life.

The edges were bumpy and lumpy, the paper jutting out in every direction. There was so much scotch tape on the paper you’re wondering if you should’ve picked some up on your way home.

Kicking off your shoes and hanging your coat up, you notice that Changbin hasn’t noticed you come home yet, he’s too wrapped up in his Christmas bubble— no pun intended.

When you pad up behind your cozy boyfriend, you slide your arms around his waist and hug him from behind.

Changbin jumps, startled, and makes a tiny noise of surprise.

“Hi, Binnie,” you coo, squeezing him tighter.

“Hello, my Christmas Angel.” His hands rest on top of yours.

His body heat already warming you up from the outdoor chill.

You peer around his shoulder down at the present in front of you. He’s about halfway through the Holiday Abomination he calls wrapping.

“What are you up to?”

He hums and reaches down to twist the half-wrapped gift around. “I knew we were going to be pressed for time before the party tonight, thought I would help with wrapping gifts so you didn’t need to rush.”

Your heart swells three sizes like the grinch, a genuine smile gracing your cheeks.

“Aren’t you sweeter than a Christmas cookie?” You move around to stand next to him and press a long, sweet kiss to his cheek.

When you pull away from his cheek, he’s quicker. Changbin sweetly grabs your face and presses his lips to yours for a long, delicate kiss.

Pulling away, he rubs your cheek with his thumb. “You’re home early, sugar plum.”

You giggle. He’s made it his mission since December first to call you every cheesy Christmas pet name he could think of.

“My boss let us loose for the holiday.” Once more, you wrap your arms around him, he turns to face you completely.

“How nice.” Another peck to your lips.

“More time to spend with my amazing boyfriend,” you say against his lips.

Changbin kisses you again. “Is he coming?” You pinch his side. He yelps and jumps in your arms.

Again and again he kisses your lips sweetly.

You don’t even bother opening your eyes in between them, you know he’s going to continue over and over again.

Eventually, the kisses move to your cheeks, to your nose, your forehead, anywhere he can reach.

Both of you are smiling like idiots, unable to stop your childish giggles.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and push his chest to get him away from you.

Changbin whines. “One more, one more!”

“Okay, okay!”

He leans in and kisses your lips; it’s so soft and gentle. Every delightful emotion that comes with the holiday season is packed into it.

How did you ever spend a Christmas without him? All of those Christmas songs make sense now that you’re with him.

When you lean back to separate from the kiss, he leans forward more, grabbing your waist with both hands to keep you close to him.

The two of you are both so whipped for one another— it’s so sweet it could rot your teeth.

You laugh into the kiss, Changbin can’t help but smile against your lips. Your happiness is so contagious.

Turning your head, you wrap your arms around his neck and look down at the kitchen island.

He continues his assault on your face in spite of his ‘one more’ statement.

You can’t even be mad or upset at the terrible wrap job of the gift, he’s helping in whatever way he could think of.

But, my god, it’s so bad.

More and more laughter bubbles from your chest the longer you look down at it. How did he even do this horrible?

“Binnie, my dear?” you ask.

“Yes, my Christmas cookie?” he responds in between smooches.

“Have you ever wrapped presents before?”

Slowly, his kisses slow down, one by one until he stops and turns to look down at the present in front of you both.

His arms wrap around your waist even tighter, his cheek presses against yours.

God, the two of you are sickening to anyone but yourselves.

“Is it obvious?”

Yes. “No.”

You turn and kiss his cheek. “I think it’s great for your first time.” Kiss. “I’ll help you with the rest.” Kiss. “And I’ll show you an even easier way to wrap them.” Kiss.

He laughs against your face.

“Okay, okay, come on then, teach me how to wrap them, Betty Lou Who.”

Reaching up, you pinch his cheek playfully. “Don’t be a grinch.”

Chuckling, he pushes your hand away from his face, feigning pain.

You both turn and look at the present. “Here,” you say, turning it around a bit. “We’ll finish this guy and then do the rest.”

Changbin presses one last kiss on the crown of your hair and turns his attention to the poorly wrapped gift once more.

“Can you man the tape dispenser?” You grab the tape and hand it to him.

He nods, already ripping one piece off.

Assessing the damage, you go to work. It’s a box set of party games that you bought for Felix. He’s been hosting more get togethers at his apartment, and each time, he complains about not having any games to play.

You fold the paper around and make some cuts at the excess.

When you hold your hand out, Changbin sticks a tiny piece of tape to your finger. Smiling, you tape down the paper and spin the box to work on the sides.

You repeat this process over and over with the gift until it’s covered with green and gold paper.

Humming, you look around. “Do you wanna put a bow on it?”

Changbin giggles, “Yes.” He reaches for the bag and finds the bow with the most glitter on it and sticks it right in the middle of the box.

“Okay, now write his name on a label and stick it to the box.”

He follows your instructions and you grab the next present.

A new picnic basket set for Hyunjin. Changbin insisted this was the perfect gift for him.

Thank god it came in a box.

You roll out the sparkly paper and start measuring and cutting. Changbin watches closely over your shoulder.

Fold after fold, you wrap up the gift, your boyfriend continuing to hand you pieces of tape.

He hums and sings along with the songs playing over the speaker.

Before you could even ask, he slaps on a big bow and a premade label.

“Beautiful!” he cheers, picking up the gift to move it to the side.

He puts it with the other completed gifts. The stark difference between your handiwork and his makes you snort.

Three more gifts to wrap.

You grab the nice diffuser you bought for Chan. It came with several scents which you read were great for falling asleep; which he desperately needed.

Hovering over your shoulder, Changbin continues to watch your movements closely.

In between tape pieces, he kisses your neck and shoulders softly. Each press sends goosebumps down your arms.

Within a few minutes, the diffuser is wrapped, a bow placed on top with a label written out.

Changbin grabs the gift and moves it to the side.

You’re preparing to wrap the new knife set for Minho when you feel something placed on top of your head. A soft, white puff ball bounces in front of your eyes.

“Much better for my little snow Angel.” Changbin wraps his arms around you from behind, his nose tucking into your neck.

The Santa hat that now adorns your head matches his.

You lean into his warmth, it wraps around you like a blanket. To the slow rhythm of the music, Changbin sways the two of you back and forth.

You’re still able to reach the gift in his grasp.

Humming to the music, you continue to wrap Minho’s gift. Changbin picks up the tape and hands you pieces.

With the way he’s holding you, it’s like you have a second set of arms.

Which would be remarkably helpful this time of year.

The gift is wrapped before the song is over.

“You want to put a bow on this one?” you ask, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

Changbin looks over to where the bows and labels are on the counter. Dramatically, he reaches his hand out to them. “So far away,” he whines.

Quickly, his arm comes back to wrap around your middle. “Too far away, sorry.”

You kiss his cheek two more times, a dopey smile pulling at his lips. “Drama Queen.”

Pushing the gift to the side, you grab the last one. A laptop stand for Jisung. According yo Changbin, he’s been slouching to look at his in the studio.

“Can I wrap this one?” Binnie asks on your shoulder.

“Of course, baby.”

He releases your waist and comes around to your side. When you don’t move, Changbin looks down at you expectantly.

“What?” you ask with a laugh.

“Assume position, Mrs. Claus.” He motions behind him.

You laugh and grab the tape from him. “Oh, sorry, Mr. Claus.”

As soon as you’re behind him, Changbin reaches behind him to grab your wrists and wraps them around his body.

You’re barely able to peer over his shoulder or around his bicep to see how he’s doing.

Changbin hesitates for only a few seconds before rolling out the wrapping paper.

He smells so nice. You nuzzle your nose into his sweater. A clean, musky scent wraps around your nose. He smells like the holidays.

Your arms tighten around him.

“You’re bad at playing Tape Girl.” He pats your hand.

“My bad, there’s a hulking man blocking my vision.” You rip a piece of tape and hold it for him to take.

Changbin takes the piece from your fingers. “A muscular hunk, you mean.”

“A muscular, sexy, bulging, handsome man.”

“Oh, I like that better.”

You feel him flex his abs under your hands. Giggling, you squeeze him tighter.

There’s some movement, you rip another piece of tape. He takes it.

You take over his previous job of swaying to the music and humming behind him. The softness of his sweater feels so nice against your cheek.

His shoulder muscles move with each fold and turn off the present.

When you rip each piece of tape, he takes it gingerly.

It takes a lot longer than if you did it, but Changbin proclaims the present as finished after a few minutes.

Peering around his body, you warily take a look.

And much to your surprise, the present is neatly wrapped! It’s not perfect by any means, but it’s definitely better than his first two attempts.

“Wow, Binnie!” you say with a smile. “You learn quickly!”

He turns around, you move your arms up around his neck.

Changbin nuzzles his nose with yours in an Eskimo kiss. The two of you giggle like school kids.

His arm raises above your head. Pulling away, you look up to see him holding a small bundle of green ribbon.

“Mistletoe,” he says cheekily.

“That’s not mistletoe,” you tease.

Changbin kisses your cheek slowly, he moves all around your skin, skillfully avoiding your lips.

“Oh, it’s not?” Kiss. “I guess I can’t kiss you anymore then.”

He begins to pull away from you but you just as quickly yank his face back to yours.

“Come here, you big softie.”

He laughs and drops the ribbon on the ground, scooping you up with both arms to kiss your lips.

Each time your lips meet, it feels like the first time. Your heart lights up like a Yule log— his love is warmer than any fireplace, any mug of cocoa you could ever wrap your hands around.

His lips slide over yours slowly, making sure you feel every ounce of his love. Even your heartbeats begin to sync up.

“I love you,” you whisper in between kisses.

“I love you too, my sugar cookie.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #seo changbin x reader #Changbin x reader #seo changbin #changbin x y/n #seo changbin x y/n #stray kids reader insert

[colourstreakgryffin]

Okay here me out please....So reader leaves their beloved baby with their father Muzan for the night, because he said he can handle it....he can't the baby is everywhere, he can't take his eyes off of them for a minute without her just vanishing to somewhere else. Eventually baby get's of the infinity castle and finds herself being coddled by Yoriichi and Muzan is just.....`he's panicking and like he don't know what to do, so like eventually he has to fess up to reader that he fucked up and she has to go get the baby and she and yorrichi lightly have a conversation (roast session) about muzan and responsibility

I know this is a bit strange but please I just think it would be funny

Oh? Okay, okay! I’ll try my best with this and hey, we get to see Yoriichi again! I missed Yoriichi so thank you dearly for giving us the angel back! The angel and demon

If you don’t mind, I’ll name the kid myself since haven’t been given a name

Kibutsuji Muzan- Wondering Child

“Muzan, my love. All you need to do is watch Kuragari” You gently remark with a soft voice and a understanding tint, offering the newborn Kuragari to your husband as his blood reds scanned over both you and the cooing baby. Muzan scoffed under his breath at the rather easy task you given him, watch his own biological infant. He could do it blindfolded and with one arm tied to his back

The moment you walked out of the room, Muzan immediately plopped the blood red-eyed baby into his cute little playcrib as he sat down, right before Kuragari in his playarea, to pick up a nearby abandoned novel to skim through the hefty pages and pinpoint the chapter he was at. He took his eyes of the boy for only a minute or so when he realised the lack of cooing and giggling was concerning, looking up. His heart drooped in concern

He’s gone? He’s gone?! Where did he go?! He’s a baby! How is he gone already?!

Muzan almost panicked as he shot up from his comfortable plush arm chair and frantically checked every nook and cranny of the spacious room for Kuragari with some… or more, all furniture thrown at the walls along the way, no success further alarmed him. How is a few months year old already more fidgety and energetic than a bumbling four year old

Muzan ended up almost destroying the entire Infinity Castle in search for a single small demon. He truly had no clue where that bouncing newborn could be and the only reason he had a decent clue was because a number of trees leading down a specific dirt path, once transported out of the Infinity Castle, had the same fang-like bite marks in them. As if a baby animal was teething on the trunks

Perfect

The King of Demons couldn’t be anymore thankful that time itself had given him a shred of mercy and averted the sky to pitch black so the glowing moon would shower cool moonlight down on his dead white complexion. His slight relief was cut short when he finally found the source of sudden familiar giggling, he knew that voice belonged to his son so he followed it

And what he saw terrified him as he definitely had his hands too tied to be able to take action

That… that bastard, Tsugikuni Yoriichi holding his precious baby boy in his lap as Kuragari happily rose his cute tiny hands up to touch Yoriichi’s much bigger, calloused palms. The monstrous human had a very shocked expression on his face as his plum reds looked ready to swell up in tears, his heart touched by the Prince of Demons being so sweet and playful, despite being the enemy

Muzan knew very well he couldn’t intervene at all as the last time he hardly butted heads with that Yoriichi. He only got away with one single strand of his entire being left, it was far too close for his comfort though, he knew he also needed to get his beloved Kuragari back. The only solution that came to his head was you, the boy’s mother

You were a human, just like Yorichi. You could get the boy back, no problem. Unlike Muzan himself

Cemented on his meticulous plan to get his baby back from the monster, Muzan rushed back to the Infinity Castle at his top speed and seemingly arrived in the same room you stood before, just in the nick of time to greet you. “Greetings, my love. Where’s Kuragari?” You ask softly and almost immediately, out of concern as Muzan flinches guilty, sighing out to try relieve him of the stress. He should just tell you, no need to lie or gaslight you into believing such nonsense

“You know that beast, Tsugikuni. He has stolen our son. I only took my eyes off him for a minute, if not two and he was gone, I luckily tracked him down by the teeth marks on trees but I cannot get him back, you know” You sighed displeased, part of you knew this simple task would end in absolute disaster but since you loved the clueless demons, you just flashed a sweet, gentle smile and took his hand encouragingly

“Let’s go find our Kuragari then, my dear”

Laughing joyfully with your precious Kuragari sat on your lap, fiddling and pulling on the lengthy ends of your haori to entertain himself and satisfy his curiosity. You were perched on the open wooden edge-skirt of the homely Minka belonging to the one and only swordsman that ruled the battlefield with a platinum fist, Yoriichi himself. The same Yoriichi who apparently ‘stole’ your son but you got the actual picture from Yoriichi and it made you realise your husband is no where near competent with childcare

“I found this one crawling around my backyard. I don’t know how he got there but he seemed to have travelled miles and was hungry, he kept biting at everything” Every word that human man said felt very genuine and you weren’t ever gonna try deny that him and his statements were

His explanation of the situation made much more sense than what Muzan proclaimed happened, such a weird one nevertheless. Yoriichi didn’t even know your son existed in the first place, why would he go after him?

Needless to say… you and Yoriichi spent almost a hour trading innocent insults at Muzan and his so-called parenting style. You didn’t really hate your husband, he actually tried and took responsibility by telling you about losing him but he should always be watching Kuragari, the newborn should never left alone not had eyes taken off him for even a minute and somebody like Yorichi, who lost his soon-to-be-born child to a demon, knows that

You have learnt to never entrust Kuragari to Muzan, you will just have to go to Yoriichi instead

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #anime and manga #kny imagines #short story #kny upper moons #kny demon king #kibutsuji muzan #muzan kibutsuji #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan fluff #kny muzan #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x reader #muzan jackson #demon slayer muzan #kibutsuji kny #muzan short story #muzan tried #and he failed #mention of Yoriichi #tsugikuni yoriichi #yoriichi tsugikuni #daddy muzan #papa muzan #demon king #the man isn’t the best at parenting tho #I assume the baby is a hybrid

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

New Years Day - Billy Butcher

A/N: Happy New Year, friends! Hoping that this year brings nothing but the best for all of us. Here is a little New Years gift, albeit a little late. I want to push myself to write more this year, on here and not, so hopefully you'll see a little more of me!

TS Prompt #2: New Year’s Day

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Reader Word Count: 1.3k Synopsis: New Years morning with Billy <3

The first thought in Billy Butcher's mind when he wakes up is that if he tries to open his eyes, his head will explode. He groans as he turns away from the light streaming in through the small apartment's bedroom window and chances a quick peek at the room.

His head has not exploded, but it is pounding. After a few seconds to get used to the cruel light of day, he rolls back over on his back. The sheets smell of whiskey and something else he can't place, but definitely a smell from the party last night.

He reaches out, expecting to find you lying next to him, probably just as hungover as he is, and hopefully as naked as he had left you the night before. His hand only brushes over the coldness of your pillow.

He sits up quickly, which is a mistake, as the drinks from last night threaten to come back up. As his stomach settles, he climbs out of bed and follows the light coming from the hall. There is rustling and clinking coming from the kitchen, much quieter than the clinking glasses from the night before.

He finds you here, a trash bag in hand, and a fluffy robe wrapped around you. You glance up at him when you hear his shuffling and give him a tired smile.

"Happy New Year," you whisper.

"Is it?" he asks. He stops in front of you and leans down to kiss you. "What are you doing up so early?"

"The sunlight woke me up," you say with a shrug. "Figured I'd get a jump start on cleaning up the mess of our party."

"You don't have to do that all on your own, love," he says, taking the bag from your hand.

"I also figured you'd be pretty hungover. I didn't expect to see you for a while."

"Are you not hungover?" he asks, quickly recounting in his mind how many drinks each of you had. You might have had a few less, but he had a higher tolerance. If he was hungover, you had to be.

"Oh I am," you say with a pained expression, "Which is why I took four Tylenol this morning and why I couldn't fall asleep after I did."

"Rest, let me clean up," he says, steering you towards the couch. He sits you down and kisses your forehead. As he does, he sees the mess of beer bottles, wine glasses, and anything else one can imagine scattering his living and dining room.

"Remind me why we had this party?"

"Because it's what you do on New Year's Eve," you say, standing back up, "Like how on New Years Day, you clean up all the bottles your friends left."

"What are you doing?" he asks as you walk back into the kitchen and grab another bag.

"This one is for the trash, you work on the bottles."

"Who brought plum flavored beer?" he asks in disgust, chucking the can into the bag.

"Oh, my work friend brought. It was not actually as bad as you'd think. I could have sworn you tried some."

"No," he grumbles, moving on to the next five cans.

"You were definitely there when she was passing them around."

"I'm telling you, I was not. In fact, the only time I saw you at the party was when it was over and you finally joined me in bed."

"Don't say finally like you were in there all night," you say with a roll of your eyes. "You partied well past midnight."

"Well how could I not?" he asks, "The music never turned down once until everyone left."

"You're even grumpier this year than you were last."

"It's the hangover, love," he quips. You laugh and then immediately put a hand on your forehead. Billy watches you wince and comes over to your side.

"Maybe you need more than just Tylenol."

"I'll be fine. I figured we'd get some greasy breakfast food after this is all picked up and then get back into bed," you say. Billy raised an eyebrow at you. "No, not like that. The only kind of pounding going on today will be the one going on in my head."

"That's fair," he says, kissing your forehead.

"Also," you say, grabbing his hand before he walks off to pick up more leftover drinks. "We spent more time together last night than just at the end of the night."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, dumbass, you kissed me at midnight."

"That wasn't me, darling," he says, dropping his garbage bag on the floor. He notices smatterings of glitter all over his floor, and knows that it will be an even bigger mess to clean up, but doesn't care as he wraps his hands around your waste. You drop your own trash bag and look up at him.

"I'm pretty sure it was."

"I would have remembered that," he says, "But now I know there's someone from last night who is getting the ass-beating of a lifetime."

"Oh shut up," you say, shoving him gently. "Remember, everyone started counting down and I pinned you down--"

"Ooh," he says gruffly, pulling you closer. You roll your eyes.

"I pinned you down, meaning I finally found you, in the kitchen, and dragged you back out here for the countdown."

"And then what happened?"

"And then the clock struck twelve and you kissed me. Just like this." You close the gap between the two of you and tilt your head up to kiss his lips softly. His hand travels up into your tangled hair and you melt into the kiss for a few more minutes.

"Just like that," he hums when you break apart.

"Mhm."

"Expected something a little more wild for a New Years kiss."

"Oh, believe me, it got wilder when everyone left."

"Yeah, I'm remembering now." He thumbs at the opening of your robe and sees that it is the only thing you have on.

"Remember what I said about pounding," you say, reading the look in his eyes.

"Seems like we could have foregone the party and just spent the night together. No headaches, and all the pounding," he says with a wicked smile. You laugh and fall into his arms. "Unfair I only get you at midnight."

"You can have me at all your midnights. And I know I left you alone for a lot of last night, but I knew I'd get you all to myself this morning, that we'd clean up bottles together on New Years Day," you say, rubbing his back gently.

"I feel honored," he says sarcastically.

"No one else I'd rather clean up with," you say, looking up at him before breaking away.

You are quiet for a while, cleaning up your unspoken half of the mess. It isn't until Billy brings his full bag back into the kitchen that you speak again.

"You know, my friend with the plum beer told me something interesting."

"Yeah?"

"Well, she had been dating someone at work and they broke up after a few months. She said the break-up had been fine, but that after it was over, she had to ask to be transferred. She said she couldn't stand hearing his laughter, even four or five offices down."

Billy grunts in response, not sure what to say.

"After she told me, I found myself picking out your laugh in all of the noise last night." You sigh and Billy turns towards you. "Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I can recognize anywhere."

"Y/N," he says gently, taking you in his arms again. "Never. I love you."

"I love you, too." He leans in to kiss you once more, his grip on you is firm as he deepens the kiss, making it more meaningful than the quick one at midnight, or even the ones he scattered over your body last night.

"Happy New Year, love."

"Happy New Year, Billy."

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher fanfiction #the boys #the boys fanfiction #the boys imagine #the boys fanfic #ts prompts

[cyberkitty1]

Politely grabbing your shoulders could you please do a miles x male reader if you can

Miles Morales x male!reader

You meet after he shows up to his fathers party late and is grounded. He storms downstairs not paying attention when he bumps into you. You were holding a ton of books in hand and managed to drop all of them due to impact.You both fall back

you had landed at the bottom of the stairs him landing at the top of the stairs.

His eyes open and sees you at the bottom. Frantically he goes down to help you up “ Shoot, im so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going! Are you ok?” You look at him with an awkward smile “ No yea im fine! Are you ok?” Miles gets uo frantically attempting to help you stand “ You don't need to ask me that I made you fall with all these books! Ill help you take them where you need to” You put your hands up defensively “ no no its ok really! “ He shakes his head “ No its fine I have nothing to do anyways let me help” sighing defeatedly you guys pick up the books and go to your apartment.

You open the door letting him in so he could put the books down on the dining table “ Oh my name is Miles by the way” he says with a bright shining smile you could never miss. “ I’m __ nice to meet you” For a second you guys just stand there till he looks at the shoes on the shoe rack at the door “ Oh my god are those the new dunks?” He stands looking into space “ called… umm” “PLUM ECLIPSE!” he points at you and you point back.

“ Yea I work at foot locker so we get shoes first, I have a ton more that arnt even released yet” He looks at you with eyes of adoration and curiosity

“ You mind showing them to me? I am a shoe connoisseur if I do say so myself” he says giving you smug face.

You let out a genuine laugh. “ Yea sure follow me” .

—————————————

taglist: @rosesndan @shoyofroyoyoyo @p3rf3ct4ng3l @nagi3seastorm @iheartmorales @itsnanabanana @kxllanxtdoor @royalty-cashinout @hana-1235 @lanasfloridakiloss

ALSO ASKS ARE OPEN AGAIN!!!

sorry this took me so long to write, i love to procrastinate 😜

also sorry if its not what you wanted! I myself never thought i would even accept male reader works/ trans asks so again sorry if its not what you wanted!

another sorry if it doesn’t even seem like a male reader 😞

EDIT: also my stuff is for anyone I don’t think I really use pronouns in my stuff + if you want me to write something more gender specific lmk!!

#earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #atsv x reader #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales #fluff #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #male reader #miles morales x male reader #male reader fluff

[fuckmyskywalker]

"Undercover." — Anakin Skywalker.

— CW: 18+, smut! Crossdressing. Feminization kink. Masturbation. Brief Blowjob. Anal play. Dom/sub dynamics. Don't like? Don't read <3. | Word count: 1.3k (not proofread!)

— a/n: This is the prompt of the day. Reader and Anakin talk a lot about femininization and stereotypical feminine stuff. If you are not comfortable with this it's okay to skip!

— List of films! | Taglist.

Stepping inside the tent, Anakin removes the silk mask that covers his nose and lips, mimicking his action you leave the fabric on the small wooden table your hostesses were nice enough to provide you with. His blonde curls are styled in a half ponytail and multiple braids— in a strange manner that reminds him of his Padawan braid.

“This is so… weird,” Anakin complains, lowering his gaze to frown at the long, loose dress that you managed to find for him. His broad complexion was barely concealed under the dark layers. It was somewhat noticeable that Anakin didn’t possess the most… stereotypically feminine shape, but it worked and you managed to enter the matriarchal tribe, where just like the name hinted: men weren’t allowed. Plus, Anakin was playing his part well enough to be convincing. “Can I take this off?” 

“No, you can’t,” You reply skating your head. “We have a mission to complete, and if they find out you are a man we will be kicked out of the village— and the Council will be furious.” Your eyes roam over his body, noticing the way his narrow hips stretch the fabric which is clearly not made for him. 

“Stop staring” Anakin protests, crossing his arms over his chest only accentuating the unnatural creases of the dress. 

Covering your mouth with the back of your hand to suppress a giggle, Anakin’s cheeks redden at your reaction. “I mean— you look pretty… Alynna.” 

“Shut up.” He mumbles taking a deep breath. He hated the name you picked for him last minute, when the matriarch of the village welcomed you two and curiously eyed up Anakin, murmuring something to the other elder woman standing next to her.

Anakin immediately asked you what she said and despite your precarious knowledge of their native language, you managed to understand two words: “ugly” and “woman”.

Needless to say, you lied to Anakin, murmuring something about their words being too complicated for you.

There’s something odd growing inside his chest— Anakin feels slightly trapped in these clothes, but not in an… awkward way. Of course, he misses comfortable black Jedi robes, but he knows he has to play along with the mission, even if it messes up with his head in a way he only considered in the deepest corners of his mind. “Well, thanks for admitting I am hotter than you,” He smirks trying to ease his mood and the turmoil that creeps on his body, although the situation is far from funny. “But seriously, it’s uncomfortable. And not just because of the braids and this damn dress and— these” He pauses, cupping the fake breasts that are mid-size coconuts Obi-Wan managed to find. “It feels strange being treated like a woman all of a sudden.”

It was so strange that it gave him a certain ick of arousal. 

“Congratulations, now you know how I feel every day” You shrug. Walking closer to him you place both hands on his shoulder, leaning closer and offering him a reassuring slime. “And you look good, I promise.” He did, but that wasn’t new. “Look at the bright side— we are alone! And you know that doesn’t happen often.” You whisper with a smile, standing on your tiptoes to press a gentle peck on his lips.

“If that’s the only bright side here, then I think we need to reconsider our Jedi choices.” He quips, trying to lighten the mood as he places his hands on your hips. You are wearing a similar dress as his but in a deep plum color. He is just as mesmerized as you are; Anakin is used to seeing you in your daily Jedi robes and— well, naked. So, the change of scenery is a nice gesture. His fingers drum on your hipbones, crooking his head to deepen the kiss pushing to the back of his mind the fact that he is still dressed up as a woman.

The kiss escalated quickly, and soon you straddle his lap on one of the small bunk beds. Anakin’s hands squeeze your ass while you grind against his erection. If you are weirded out by your oddly feminine boyfriend, you don’t show any signs of it. Tugging at his hair, Anakin releases a deep moan, to which you cover his lips. “Shut up— that’s too— too manly.”

“And what?” He speaks against your palm. “Do you want me to moan like a girl now?”

It’s easier to pretend to be annoyed. 

“If you can…” You start, rolling your eyes.

“No, absolutely not.”

“Why?” You lean closer, still covering his mouth with your palm. Your hips continue to roll over his clothed crotch, providing him with much-needed stimulation. His hands on your ass guide your smoothly setting up a relaxed pace. “Is the Chosen One scared that the Galaxy finds out he wants to be fucked while dressed up as a woman?” His breath hitches at your words, he is cornered and you both know it. “Don’t worry pretty girl. Let me make you feel good.”

Oh, the tables have turned; It’s always been him taking charge and being dominant, but now it is as if you found his dirtiest little secret and you are using it to make him bend at your will. Anakin knows you would never judge him but… but this is different. You take advantage of his silence to push him further to the little fantasy you recently discovered. 

“I saw the way you looked at yourself in the mirror earlier Anakin… I know you liked it.” 

Undoing the bows on the sides of his dress you begin to peel the layers slowly. Discarding that ridiculous makeshift bra you touch his toned chest, reaching for his nipples to pinch them gently. “Your thoughts are too loud, darling” Your wet lips meet his jaw, kissing him softly. “If you like this there’s nothing wrong with it… let me take care of you, let me make you feel good, doll.”

His cock twitches underneath the remaining layers of the dress, aching for attention. Kneeling down, you ask him to sit on the edge of the twin-size bed and he complies immediately. Lifting up the fabric you meet his cock, no underwear. 

“Naught girl.” You bite your lip, wrapping a hand around the base. “I thought you were going to be my good girl, not a little whore.”

“S–Sorry.” He moans, embarrassed at how quickly his body submitted to this fantasy. 

Kissing the tip, licking the precum, you hum. “Don’t apologize, darling. It’s alright.” Your voice is sickly sweet it sends a shiver down his spine. Spitting on his cock, Anakin thrusts his hips at the feeling of your hand fisting him slowly, not noticing how you are licking and sucking your own fingers, too busy trying to keep his growls and groans to the minimum. 

“Oh!” Anakin gasps, feeling your fingertips prodding at his entrance. His tight hole clenches at the sudden intrusion but your soothing voice helps him relax. After a long, heavy breath, Anakin’s shoulders slump, and his legs grow soft, allowing you to thrust your index and middle fingers slowly. 

“Look at your pretty little pussy swallowing my fingers baby.” You coo at him, sliding the digits further to reach that spot that will make him shiver. “There you go— see? It feels good. Uh-uh, it does. Good girl. Make yourself feel good.”

It feels weird to be listening to the same words he says to you constantly, but Maker do they feel good. The thrill of you complying and fulfilling one of his most hidden kinks is thrilling, something he never thought would happen. Perhaps that’s the reason behind his approaching orgasm. 

Anakin bites his lips as his messy hair falls over his face and shoulders, he looks absolutely sinful.

“Be a good girl and come, okay? Next time I’ll get a nice cock to fuck you.”

🌊Taglist!: @jellydodger | @sythethecarrot | @bimbo-baggins86 | @haydensgirlaela | @grimkaos | @dianaaxoxo | @arzua10 | @forcemeanakin

— 🐚 if you wish you be added to my taglist there's a google forms in the beginning of the post! There you can select which days you would like to be tagged in (or choose the option: all the above!). If you send me a DM or an ask I will tag you on every day! | some tags might not work due to your settings, so let me know!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes! #𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 kinktober 2023! #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x female reader

[spookyjuicefiction]

Violets & Plums: Astarion/Tav, Part 3

Part 2 Masterlist

A/N: still no clue what to name this fic tbh. CW for Astarion's back story/Cazador bullshit, and there's a bit of nudity that gets spicy

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

Astarion barely said a word the entire day. It was a boring one; the group had decided to circle back to the druids' grove to confront Kagha about some evidence they found that she was working with shadow druids. Additionally, they wanted to re-up on supplies before mounting their final attack on the goblin camp. This meant a long day of walking and retracing old steps.

Personally, Astarion could not care less what Kagha was doing with the grove. He didn't see why it was any of their business if she wanted to kick the tieflings out and lock things down, but of course, Tav disagreed. Not only did Tav have a bleeding heart for apparently all wretched creatures, but she had Karlach in her ear begging her to make sure the orphaned tiefling children were safe. There was no point in arguing, since everyone else aside from Lae'zel seemed to agree.

Besides, Astarion had decided that the only way to deal with his unfortunate new Tav problem was to ignore her entirely as much as possible. If he just didn't speak to her, she wouldn't be able to read him and he wouldn't have the stomach flipping issue. He had a new mantra that he kept repeating in his mind. Get Halsin. Get to the creche. Remove tadpole. Be on his merry way. No more Tav.

But even as he repeated it to himself, he couldn't shake the possessive feeling that had risen in him at the sight of his bite marks on her neck. Mine. Her arms wrapped around him. Her breath in his ear. The scent of violet and plums. Get Halsin. Get to the creche. Remove tadpole. Steal Tav away. No more others. Just them.

Fuck.

"Here's the stream. We're about halfway there." Wyll called over his shoulder from the front of the pack.

"Thank the gods, I want to shower off that nasty bog smell!" Karlach darted forward, her large body clearing a path for everyone behind her to walk through.

"A rinse would do this wizard good," Gale agreed, looking to Tav. "Shall we stop for an hour or so?"

"I don't think there's any stopping Karlach, anyway," Tav chuckled, dropping her pack on the edge of the stream. The tiefling was already throwing her clothes off over her shoulder, leaving a trail of boots and belts behind her.

"There's a waterfall!" Karlach cried, and as the rest of the group caught up, Astarion could see her already splashing her way over to it. Wyll, Lae'zel, and Shadowheart were quick behind her, stripping down to their underwear and splashing each other as they sank into the rushing water (Lae'zel and Shadowheart splashing each other with particular aggression).

"Gods, this feels good on my engine," sighed Karlach. The waterfall ran over her turned into a giant cloud of steam.

"Maybe I can hug you if you're standing under there!" Tav said excitedly. Astarion averted his eyes as she removed her clothes and waded over to her friend. Why is she always hugging everyone?

Next to Astarion, Gale picked his way gingerly through the shallow part of the stream until he settled himself in up to his chest.

"It really does feel quite nice," the wizard informed him, clearly confused as to why Astarion was still fully dressed and standing tensely on the bank. Astarion shot him a dark look.

Wyll floated back over to Astarion and Gale, sighing dreamily. "Ah, women. Is there any sight better?"

The three of them looked quietly as the four girls laughed raucously under the waterfall. Even Lae'zel was in on the fun, an uncharacteristic smile across her unusual features. Astarion swallowed thickly as his eyes fell on Tav, her skin slick and shining under the rushing water. Her sheer joy almost choked him with its purity. He turned away.

"I'm going to find some privacy," he told the men pointedly so that they wouldn't try to follow him. He wasn't in the mood for a boys club atmosphere with those two.

A few meters away, Astarion at last toed off his boots and removed his clothing and gear, folding them neatly on a tree trunk before wading into the stream. He scrubbed himself with his bergamot soap, sighing as he realized how stiff his shoulders were and how sore his feet and legs were. He leaned back and dunked his blonde curls, using his fingers to scrub through the grime.

Suddenly, he heard splashing coming towards him and he instinctively ducked so that the water covered up to his chin. Infuriatingly, it was Tav wading towards him.

"Hi," she said with a smile.

"What do you want?" he felt defensive and vulnerable with his clothes off; it made him snippy. She cocked her head at him, but the smile didn't falter.

"I'm sorry, I've intruded on you," she observed. "I only wanted to see if you were alright. You've been so quiet today I rather thought a monster hunter had stolen you away."

"I'm fine," he snapped. Her gentle tone made his teeth grind. He wished she would kneel further into the water so that he couldn't see so much of her, as it was very distracting.

"My, you're awfully acidic today. If hunger's the cause, you can come and feed on me again tonight." She said it so casually, as though she told him he could borrow a cup of sugar. He gaped at her. "Not as much as last time, though, I need my strength for tomorrow. I'll make sure to eat a big dinner, too." The last bit she said more to herself than to him, and then looked at him expectantly.

"I - uh - alright," he replied uncertainly. He hated how much he wanted it. Hated that it was physically impossible for him to say no. Hated that she was so bloody nice about it all.

She smiled. "Brilliant. I'll leave you to your primping, then."

Once they had all dried off in the afternoon sun, they set off again. It took all of Astarion's strength not to let his eyes rove over Tav's body as she lay bathed in the radiant light. He chose instead to focus on attempting to inflict psychic damage on Gale, who was letting his eyes rove plainly and with reckless abandon for his own life and safety.

When they finally reached the grove, Astarion realized how critical it in fact was that Tav had offered to let him drink from her. After confronting Kagha and disposing of the shadow druids, the chastised elf had offered them sleeping arrangements to stay in the grove for the night. Within the confines of the grove, Astarion would not be able to hunt, as all animals were sacred to the druids. And, honestly, he wouldn't be able to tell which ones were actually druids in wildshape. He didn't fancy picking a fight with one of these nut jobs.

Then came the selection of sleeping arrangements. Each room had two beds, which meant there would be an odd one out. Astarion obviously expected to be the spare, guessing Wyll and Gale would take one room and the girls would pair off. He stood off from the group as they discussed the arrangements, and turned to face Tav when she came to break the news. But again, she surprised him.

"Me and you, then?"

"I... what?"

"Lae'zel has elected to to sleep on the ground because 'beds are too comfortable'," Tav explained. "And, considering our plans for the evening, it makes sense."

Over her head, Astarion could see Karlach and Shadowheart whispering to one another and looking in their direction, smiling devilishly.

"Quite."

If Astarion had ever been inclined to believe in a god before, he knew definitively in this moment that they had all abandoned him. Confined to a private room with Tav, where they had every intention of entering an intimate situation. He might as well just stake himself in the middle of this hallway.

"Our room will be this way." Tav picked up her pack and gestured for him to follow, which he had no choice but to do. The room was simple and bare; druids were not known for great finery. But it was clean and smelled of cedar wood and fresh flowers. Admittedly, Astarion was rather looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed for the first time since he was abducted.

His eyes taking in the room snagged on her, standing awkwardly.

"I'm going to change clothes," she explained.

"Ah, right, of course." He turned away from her, pretending to inspect the bed. The candle on her side of the room cast her shadow on the wall next to him as she unlaced her jerkin and pulled her cotton shirt over her head. As she turned, he could see the silhouette of her breasts as she heaved a deep breath. Astarion raked his hand through his hair and busied himself unlacing his own boots.

After a few more quiet moments, she spoke softly: "Okay, I'm finished. I'm ready when you are."

Astarion closed his eyes to steel himself for a quick moment before turning to face her. She was laying on the bed wearing a thin tunic and smoothing her hair off of her neck. She had pulled the blanket haphazardly over her, but he could see the top of her thigh poking out; it did not seem that she was wearing any pants. Gods, hadn't he seen enough of her naked flesh today? The sight made him feel as though he was blushing, even though there was no warmth to his skin.

Slowly, he stalked over to her bedside, and she looked up at him with a frown.

"Perhaps I should lay on the floor? I don't want to spill blood on the bed."

"Don't worry about that, darling. I will ensure none is spilled. Just... make yourself comfortable."

She seemed satisfied at this, and settled back, turning her head so that her previously punctured neck was exposed. Now it was he that hesitated.

"I... would you rather I sit on the edge of the bed and lay across you, or hold myself over you like I did last time?" One way required him laying on her chest, but the other would almost certainly require him planting his knee between her legs to hold himself at the right angle.

"Oh," she sounded surprised, and a blush crept up her neck as she made the same realizations. "uhm, whatever is more comfortable for you."

Astarion wanted to laugh. He had never been so uncomfortable in his life. At least in Cazador's dungeon, he usually had an idea of what was coming next. Ultimately, he decided to sit on the side of the bed, and he sank himself down next to her.

"Not too much," she reminded him, and he nodded, putting his hand over his heart to show his sincere promise.

Well, here goes nothing.

He leaned into her, and her scent overtook him instantly. He parted his lips to her pulse point and felt her swallow, preparing herself. He lined his fangs up to the previous punctures, and slowly sank into her neck.

At the first taste of her blood to his tongue, he was completely and utterly lost. His hands clutched at her warm body beneath her as he grew dizzy with the scent he was coming to know as uniquely hers. It sang to him like a siren song, coaxing his hands to move on their own accord, clawing at the hem of her tunic and clutching at that thigh skin that had taunted him moments earlier. She gasped, and he thought he might be hurting her, but her hand flew to the back of his head and knotted in his hair. He moaned as she fingered his silver curls, her other hand rubbing up and down his forearm.

Everything was blurring together. He wasn't sure when he withdrew his fangs, but the next moment he was licking the rivulets of blood that ran from the punctures they left behind. Now it was she who moaned, still clutching him, pressing her body against him. He lavished her neck until the blood stopped running, but he couldn't tear himself away. He began nipping, sucking, and kissing his way up her neck, catching her earlobe, and then slowly crossing her jaw bone.

"Astarion," she choked out, her voice a breathy whisper in his ear. He pulled back immediately.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

But the hand still tangled in his hair firmly pulled his face to hers, crashing their lips together in a searing kiss.

That was it. He was completely broken. He opened his mouth hungrily, drinking her in. Their teeth clashed with the desperate need to be closer, to feel each other, their frenzied desire burning hot fire into his lifeless body. He felt her hands tugging his shirt untucked and roaming her hands over the skin beneath, and he did the same. Warm. Soft. He broke the kiss only long enough to tear her tunic off. He hesitated only the briefest of seconds before discarding his own shirt. Fuck it, he thought. It's just a fucking scar.

He dove back into the crook of her neck, their naked chests crashing blissfully together as he lavished her with kisses everywhere he could see. Her skin was so hot, he couldn't believe Karlach was the only one with an infernal engine in her chest. Astarion had been cold for so, so long. For the first time in 200 years, he felt alive.

This thought sobered him, and he slowed his kisses. He was afraid to get to the next part. She was so perfect, so beautiful and soft and warm. She deserved good things. He wasn't good. He was damaged beyond repair. He was a killer, a monster, no matter what she said on the matter.

He didn't realize how still he'd gone as this panicked thought grasped him until he felt her hands stroking gently across his face, their foreheads pressed together.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, caressing him.

Astarion opened his mouth, but he couldn't speak. He didn't even know what to say. Didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to ruin the moment even more so than he already had. He let out a sigh he hadn't realized he was holding.

He conjured an image in his mind of a request, one that he was too ashamed to vocalize because it was so pathetic. Then, he gently prodded at her tadpole. With their foreheads together, it felt like they were tapping on opposite sides of a window pane. She connected to him, and he showed her the image.

"Of course," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

She rearranged herself and motioned for him to lay down. He lay his head on her shoulder, face in the crook of her neck, and wrapped his arms around her waist. She took him in her arms, gently caressing his shoulders with her fingertips, and kissed the top of his head. After a few minutes of silence, she whispered again into the flickering candlelight.

"You don't have to share anything with me. But if you want to talk about what you're feeling, you can tell me anything. You're safe with me."

Astarion felt, of all things, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He swallowed and blinked them away, hugging her even tighter, if possible. Instinctively, he reached for a joke to distract from his discomfort. But it died in his throat as she continued with her gentle ministrations. There was something sobering about the dim light in the room that made him feel bare. He didn't want to lie to her. And he did feel safe with her.

"When I was under Cazador's control," he began slowly, "he made me do a lot of terrible things. I... was forced to use my body to lure victims for him." Her hand stilled for a moment as the shock of this revelation hit her, but she continued her caresses. '"He sent me out to find the most beautiful creatures in Baldur's Gate, and to ruin them. The things I've done..." he trailed off, eyes stinging again, "my body, it's tainted. It's a weapon. And I killed so many."

He lifted his head to look at her. Her lip was trembling. "I'm afraid to ruin you."

After a moment, she seemed to compose herself enough to speak. "You are not tainted. You were a slave, and you did what you had to do to survive, and because you had no choice. Gods, you are -" she huffed out a breathless laugh that lacked mirth, "- you are so beautiful, Astarion. And really and truly brilliant. You could never hurt me. I am safe with you." She cupped his chin in her hand and used her thumb to swipe a tear from his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes.

"You are not a monster."

Astarion pressed his face into her chest, unable to handle the kindness of her words. He didn't deserve them, but he wanted so badly to believe her.

"Thank you," he all but whispered, pressing a kiss to her skin. "No one has ever had a kind word for me. You're the only one."

"Get used to it." She squeezed his shoulders and resumed her gentle caresses. "And when we get to Baldur's Gate, we're going to kill Cazador."

Astarion chuckled. He wondered if Tav, in all her research, had any idea of how hard it would be to kill a vampire lord. But it was so like her to believe that she could, and he let her. He even allowed himself to envision the fantasy where Cazador was destroyed, and he would finally and truly be free. It almost ached, how much he wanted it to be true. Beneath his head, he felt her sigh, as though she were drifting off to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, my dearest one," he whispered as the candle flickered out, allowing her warmth to lull him into a sleep of his own.

Part 4

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion x you #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion angst #astarion fluff #astarion trauma #astarion ancunin #astarion and tav #wip fic

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

Index:

Chapter 1 - Size of A Plum

Chapter 2 - With a ‘U’ or an ‘O’

Chapter 3 - Auntie Laur and A Very Drunk Boy

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 4 - Baby Dior | ‘Ours’

“Thank you for coming over for dinner tonight. If you came from 7 hours away or 7 minutes away, Y/N and I really appreciate it. Erm… we do have some news we wanted to share with our all, our families.” Trent smiled and looked at you. You squeezed his arm reassuring him that you were okay. “We've been discussing this for some time, so we’re absolutely buzzing…” he paused and looked at you again offering you the moment.

“So yeah, this… erm, sorry a little nervous.” You quivered, shaking some. Trent pressed a kiss to your forehead whispering to you that everything was okay. You watched Marcel’s eyebrows raise interested, your sister's cheeks rose from a smile of anticipation, Tyler leaning forward in his chair, your dad leaning back in his. You watched as a caterer placed a little white box in front of everyone’s seat. The whole table inspected the plain carton in front of them. “So, if you wouldn’t mind opening up the little boxes in front of each of you. Hopefully, you’ll be excited with us come this Fall as we are…” you paused. You could hear the thick material of the boxes being plied open over the muffled music outside. Then you heard the first breath get sucked in from your mum. “We are expecting a baby!” You got out fairly confidently. Collectively there were a lot of gasps and ‘oh my gods.’ You giggled a little as Trent held you closer in support. In each box there were respective things for each person pertaining to their role in your baby’s life i.e being an uncle, a grandmother, an aunt. With the little gifts was also the ultrasound. On each one you had written a little blurb.

‘Baby Girl Alexander-Arnold coming this Fall!’

In Marcel’s box you felt the need to include a little white sticky note on the photo as well.

‘Yes, this was planned’

It was cheeky and it made him smile that you knew him well enough to know he’d be a little taken aback by all this coming at him. Dianne thought she was going to have a heart attack. She grabbed your mum's hand and your mum was in the same boat.

“A baby girl!” She yelled astonished, standing up. She ran over to you first. She gave you the tightest hug you’ve ever been given before she released you to give possibly a tighter one to Trent. You picked your head up to see everyone impatiently waiting to say congratulations asking a million questions but your dad caught your eye. He was at the end of the table unmoved with tears in his eyes. You got up and squeezed Trent’s shoulder before walking over to him. You crouched next to his chair and put your hand on his arm.

“Oh, dad… ” you whispered sympathetically . Your mum walked around you placing a kiss on your cheek before going over to Trent. She wanted you to have your moment alone with your dad. You had such a special bond with him. Your whole family was close but this was really different from your relationships with your mum and sister. You were so similar. You learned with him, you explored the world with him. He was your best friend, your role model, the first man you truly loved with your whole heart and in a twist of fate and the heat of one summer he in a way brought you to Trent. Without him you would’ve never known those big brown eyes on 78th Street.

“I’m so proud of the women you’ve grown up to be. So incredibly kind and loving. You’ll be the most amazing mother to a very lucky girl.” Tears started to fill your eyes as he spoke quietly only to you. He wiped away his own before he did yours. His approval was all you ever wanted. He gave you everything you could ever want in a life, in a backwards way he introduced you to Trent. He was the best parent you could ask for and unknowingly also a wingman. The fact that you were about to embark on your own parental journey was surreal.

“She’ll be lucky to have the most amazing grandad too.” You cooed leaning your head onto his shoulder.

“I guess I’ll have myself an official born and bred Red now I suppose.” He joked. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before he picked himself up from his seat to go give Trent a hug and you followed.

“Congratulations, honestly. I couldn’t be happier for you two. It’s so important that you have each other on this journey.” You could feel your dad shifting into a mode you knew well. One where he was speaking vaguely before diving into something he had been harboring. “I’d like to request that my visits to see my granddaughter will be at Anfield.” He joked and gripped Trent’s shoulder in a way that made you quickly squeeze his opposite arms hand.

“Trent, come here a minute.” You heard your dad say it and you got nervous for Trent you couldn’t imagine what he was possibly feeling. Trent went over and your dad wrapped his arm around his shoulder and they walked off away from your families. You were in a conversation with your mum and Dianne but mentally you were somewhere else trying to read Trent’s lips and monitor your dad’s body language.

“Do not want to be in that discussion.” Marcel quipped seeing Trent’s face fall into a more serious mold. He was sitting with Tyler and your sister trying to eavesdrop.

“Yeah impregnating his daughter isn’t exactly the best way to win a dad over is it?” Your sister laughed also starting to watch their conversation closely.

“Nah it’s not.” Tyler laughed. “Trenty can hold his own though he’s got the prem trophy on his side. Your dad can’t forget that.” Tyler sarcastically but maybe seriously commented, your sister couldn’t tell. Their conversation lulled to only small comments about what they thought they overheard.

“I trust you wholeheartedly on the pitch every weekend. I’d like to think I can trust you just the same with my daughter and my granddaughter every day of their lives.” Your dad spoke sternly towards Trent looking over his shoulder at you caressing your belly. You looked beautiful and healthy. He meant what he said earlier. He was so proud of you. He wanted to threaten Trent. Scare him. As kind and humorous as your dad was, he definitely had a fire that made him absolutely terrifying. Like the man you’d see at the pub you wouldn’t want to piss off. Trent was polite and considerate listening intently hanging into every word your dad said. He couldn’t exactly understand the emotion though. He watched your dad rant about how special you were and Trent agreed but it was a slightly different form of affection. Trent was wrapping his head around the fact that he was going to be a dad, that he would have a daughter, that he would have this conversation someday. Trent swore, promised, vowed he would take care of you and your babygirl and also in true form, never without some humor your dad also insisted Trent promised England would win the next World Cup. Your dad believed him about taking care of you and only partially about the World Cup. They returned to the party, your dad more at ease, Trent more on edge.

Your house was so full for the rest of the week. Your mum began helping start the nursery, your sister and you in fits of giggles trying to sort out how to dress for the upcoming match of Trent’s you were going to in Spain, your dad and Trent watching the remainder of other leagues seasons. Suddenly their 4 day stay was over, the house was quiet, it was strange to have your family there one day and gone the next. You didn’t realize how much you missed them, especially your sister. You made a promise you’d be better about seeing each other in person more.

After your family left there was only about a week and half until you were flying with Marcel to the Champions League Final in Madrid. This very well could be the year Trent and Liverpool won the treble; The English Premier League, The FA Cup, and after this 90 odd minutes, The Champions League. You arrived at the stadium. It was bustling. It was busy, nosy, everything you didn’t want to experience thrust into one place; large men pushing around, alcohol everywhere, smoke and flares in the air. It wasn’t ideal but there was nowhere else you wanted to be. If you weren’t months into a pregnancy the atmosphere would be exciting, almost beautiful in the way it energized the air. Trent had won this before but there was no problem with winning it again. Liverpool was playing AC Milan and it was bound to be a good game. You and Marcel weaved your way up to your concourse. Since Marcel found out you were pregnant he had been almost as protective as Trent. You weren’t sure that was possible but he was a close number 2. The joke that you spent more time with him probably was more true than you’d like to admit. He had become one of your best friends in England. He was like a little brother, as much as you loved to razz the other or pick fights, you loved him unconditionally and vise versa. He would do anything to keep you safe. He kept his arm around you as you made your way up to a box. Eventually the rest of the Alexander-Arnold camp arrived and you mingled around while a few people you hadn’t seen in a while congratulated you quietly about your pregnancy, unsure if that was something you were doing yet . Trent’s manager found out fairly early right after your families knew but you hadn’t seen him in person since he found out. You sat up in a box tucked away from the crowds and as a surprise to you about 5 minutes before kick off, in walked a friendly familiar face who was ecstatic to see you. Jude had snuck into the stadium incognito in hopes of not drawing attention to himself. So far he had managed the task well.

“C’mere, Mum!” He cheekily cooed, not as quiet as you would’ve liked, pulling you into a hug. You squeezed him tight. “Brought your little family something.” He handed you a bag. You said you’d open it later, you couldn’t handle any more emotions than you were already feeling. You believed in Trent and the team wholeheartedly. It just was stressful. You were massively nervous for this game but he insisted. You rolled your eyes at him being such a pest but you dug through the little gift bag. You unwrapped tissue paper and unfolded a Bellingham Real Madrid jersey. You smiled at how small it was. It did occur to you that if all Trent’s friends giftedyour baby girl jerseys she was going to have quite the collection.

“You know he’s not going to let her wear this in England.” You joked pulling him in for another hug. “Thank you, Judey. When we come back to Madrid with her, she will definitely have it on.” You giggled.

You moved outside the box to see Liverpool warm up on the pitch. Trent stood with his brow furrowed as he surveyed the seats in front of the box high up for you. He finally found you and his stern face snapped into the full cheeky smile you loved. You blew him a kiss and he made a heart with his hands back up to you. No matter how many matches he did it at, it always made your heart skip a beat. You felt so special being the girl in the crowd he was sending his love to. While you loved the gesture it also acted as a signal to those who cared if you were or weren’t at a game. If there was a heart in that boy's hands, there was a Y/N in the stands. Before you knew it you were singing You’ll Never Walk Alone swaying back and forth with Marcel and just as quickly the match was underway. Your eyes followed Trent closely as you leaned back in your seat, one hand subtly trying to hold your bump. You wore one of Trent’s jerseys from a few years ago with a pair of Reformation black shorts and a mesh Gucci black GG heeled sandal that featured the logo monogram patterned in rhinestone crystals across it paired with Bottega Veneta silver drop earrings and matching silver mini Sardine Bag.

What started as a fan account updating that you were simply at the match, moved to a breakdown of your outfit, and then spiraled into uncontrollable internet chaos. Comments flooded Instagram and Twitter posts of you sitting in the box next to Jude and Marcel. Being with Jude only fueled the fire and more for eyes to search for you at the stadium.

‘ISTG she’s pregnant. Why have we not seen her lately?’

‘YK Jude and Trent drive her crazy 😂’

‘She’s so cool. I want her closet’

‘Wait Jude Bellingham is at this match?’

‘Imagine sitting next to Jude Bellingham and friendzoning him lol’

‘She bagged box tickets to the UCL final… mission complete’

The first half began and as much as you were trying to watch you were slightly distracted as Marcel and Jude rattled on about what you should name your baby every time the ball went out of play. It faded out eventually when unfortunately, you all watched Milan net an early penalty but then in quick succession Trent bagged an assist to equalize. You watched minutes tick by. The match felt both painfully slow and unbelievably fast. The crowd were chanting. At first you didn’t clock it until a few people beneath the box turned to look up at you. You assumed it was to see Jude but they were pointing more at you. You’re not sure what drew the attention to you. People seemed to be fixated on Trent and there for you. Half the stadium sang out in unison…

‘She’s not that fit, she’s not that fiit, Trent Alexander Arnold, your birds not that fit’ . * IYKYK the tune*

When the chant fully registered, you didn't know what to do. You felt paralyzed. Jude leaned over and cupped his hand over your ear. He whispered to you not to react. To wait until it was over. You understood why he said that. There would be more of a story if there were videos of you running away crying but the thing was you couldn’t move if you wanted to. It felt never ending. Ringing and ringing around the stadium. When it finally faded out. Dianne came over and rushed you inside. You started balling. You had no control of your tears. It wasn’t that the chant was all that offensive, it was just the feeling of being targeted by so many people and more so, the feeling that you were carrying your little girl as they insulted you. Dianne sat with you consoling you until Jude came inside after a couple minutes. He plopped next to you on the couch. When his big frame sat down, your side of the cushion raised. He told you he got tired of everyone taking photos of him but you knew he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

“Me and you can hide out, yeah?” He cooed sweetly wrapping his arm around you laying it over the back of the couch. You watched the game on the large tv inside a little annoyed at yourself for being unable to withstand the crowd. You wanted to see Trent play so as it got into the final minutes you walked outside. It wasn’t looking good for Liverpool. They didn’t have a ton of possession but you were holding out hope. In an instant, a bizarre deflection off a shot bounced off god knows who into the back of the goal. Your stomach dropped. 2 -1 Milan. You felt sick. This couldn’t end like this. 90 minutes. 5 minutes of stoppage time. Then 4 minutes, 3 minutes, 2 minutes,1 minute left then the absolute worst sound you’ve ever heard; the referee’s final whistle muffled by half the crowd beginning to celebrate. Your eyes glazed over. You looked at Marcel dropping his head into his hands. You ran your hand over his back. Jude squeezed his hand tight above your knee.

“It’ll be fine.” He whispered as you both watched Trent take a seat defeated on the pitch. His head between his legs. They had lost the Champions League final. Cynically, Trent had to do a press conference post match. You went downstairs in the stadium with Tyler to be there with him.

You could barely look Trent in the eyes when you saw him. He walked over and hugged you in complete silence. Your cheeks squished together in the embrace. You pressed your lips to his skin and he closed his eyes. You could still feel his rapid heartbeat and chest heavily rise and fall. He was absolutely devastated. He let go and went on to go do his media duties. You trailed behind him watching his strong back walk into the room security tailing you. You stood in the back corner with people from the club and Trent’s camp. Your heart broke hearing his voice. His eyes eventually cast up towards you and they softened. You could barely manage a sympathetic smile. When you finally got to leave the stadium it was chaos and yet simultaneously soundless in the car. Trent wanted to get the fuck out of Spain so that’s what you did. You were on a plane back to England promptly. You didn’t know what to say. What you did know was that Trent needed to avoid his phone at all costs. Between the loss and the chant about you… he couldn’t see the internet right now. You grabbed his phone and turned it off putting it away in his bag. He was laying face down on a couch on the plane. You sat on the floor next to him. You rubbed his arm. He didn’t acknowledge you for a while until he turned his head to look at you. His blank stare didn’t change, it was just empty.

“I know, baby.” You whispered understanding his numbness, pushing your lips against his forearm. There wasn’t really anything to say. Trent wasn’t the type of person that wanted to hear ‘you played well’ or ‘you did your best’ type stuff even if it was true. He took losses to heart. Eventually he pulled you up for a cuddle with him. You sat next to him and opened your arms for him to settle into you. He let out demoralized breaths and sighs as you ran your hand up and down his back. He kept his face hidden in the nape of your neck. You kept the trip quiet only whispering how much you loved him after you’d kiss his head every so often. The loss lingered for days. When you settled back in at home he was almost vacant but he still took care of you. He drew you a bath every night. Sometimes he would join you but it’d be quiet, other times he would stay downstairs playing fifa in the cinema.

“You want to take it out on me?” You were asking if he wanted to have rough sex in an effort to make him feel better or just release a little. You’d done it a lot before it was always fun and hot but Trent was less than impressed.

“Nah baby. For one thing, you’re pregnant I’m not going to choke you out am I? Secondly, I’m not really in the mood for all that, honestly.” He was fairly snippy lately but you understood and let it go. You felt terrible and a little lost on how to fix this one but one day you decided you needed to get him out of the house. It was officially summer and the off season there was no use sitting inside. You forcibly dragged him with you and the dogs to go for a walk on Formby Beach. Trent rolled up the bottom of your sweatpants for you. Bending down was starting to get more difficult for you so you appreciated it. As you walked along the shore you spotted a family playing football. A little girl and her brother playing in the sand both in Liverpool jerseys; the boy wearing a Salah number 11 and then an all too familiar 66 flashed when the little girl turned around. Seeing her tiny curls in the kit hit you like a freight train. This would be your life. You would have a daughter just the same. You nodded your head in their direction for Trent to see. He squeezed your hand he was holding.

“Thank you.” He whispered quietly into your ear with a kiss behind it. He was happy you made him come with you. You smiled back at him before returning your gaze to the children’s football game.

“Always for you. You should say hi, T.” you cooed, turning back to him, swiping your thumb over his cheek.

“Nah, I don’t want to.” He wasn’t usually the person to go out of his way to flaunt who he was but he definitely didn’t feel like it after Madrid. They were only kids, you knew they'd be excited to meet him. Trent was not feeling the best and you understood that too. But as the way life goes suddenly the ball skidded across the sand towards you two. Trent juggled the ball a few times, flicking it upwards to catch it with a smile forming on his face. You gave him a knowing look because even as much as he was wallowing in the loss he still absolutely loved football at the end of the day. He walked it over to the two kids. You frowned seeing the two kids absolutely lose their minds seeing the one and only Trent Alexander-Arnold come over. They gushed that he was their favorite because he’s a Scouser like them. In turn, Trent teased the little boy about his Mo jersey. Their parents weren’t much better at containing their excitement. Trent took photos with them and talked for a little. When you walked away you could tell he felt significantly better, that he felt lighter. He wrapped his arms around you and you stood on the shore.

“I’ve never been more in love with you.” He cooed. The salty air had a wet chill to it but his warm embrace made it all okay. You stood in his embrace listening to the waves roll in and wash out. Things were calm for the first time in a while.

“You say that every time.” You giggled and everything on that beach and in the world slowed for a moment. You leaned your head back onto Trent. He hummed and kissed your cheek.

“And I mean it every time. Every day somehow it’s more than the last.” His words were more sincere than ever. You hated that they lost the game but it didn’t really matter in the big picture.

“T… I love you. I’m proud of you. You’re going to be a really good role model for her. You work so hard. You never give up and I really admire that. I wish I was like that.” You began to self reflect a little. You thought Trent to be much more resilient than you were.

“Thank you, baby.” He paused but then he laughed shaking his head. He didn’t agree with you. In fact, he didn’t think he was all that different than you were in terms of toughness. “You’re much stronger than you realize, Y/N.” Whenever Trent said your full name you knew he was absolutely certain about what he was saying and he was serious too. “This isn’t easy what you’re doing, what you’ve done. You’re amazing. You should never doubt yourself but I want you to know that when you do… I’m right here, baby.. I’ve got your back. I'm right behind you. Not giving up.” These were the times when you knew that there was something much deeper between you two then just attraction, then just good times. Trent really, genuinely cared for you not just as his girlfriend but as a person; he respected you and believed in you undoubtedly. You held hands walking back to your car and you stood at the boot. Trent helped you brush the sand off your feet. He kissed your ankle and you laughed. You heard children’s voices yelling so you picked up your head. You tapped Trent’s shoulder to turn. The kids from earlier were screaming bye to Trent. You giggled at their flamboyance. He waved back before wrapping his arm around your waist walking you to the passenger side.

“Passenger princess, that's what they call it now?” He laughed as he helped you in. You told him to shut up pulling the door closed.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You quipped as he got into the driver's side. He drove home with your hand laced with his. Everything was going to be just fine.

On a whim after dinner that night you decided you were going to make dessert. You had finally started to pull Trent out of his post Champions League funk. You put on some music walking back into the kitchen when Trent offered to help. The two of you landed on cupcakes, don’t know why but that’s what was happening. You got about ¾ of the way done when Trent cupped your chin. His dark gaze and long pretty lashes looked down at you. He scooped a bit of the frosting you had made off the whisk with his fingers and brought it to your plump lips.

“Open your mouth.” He cooed. You felt your heart rate pick up. You parted your lips a little for him. He slowly stuck his fingers in your mouth and you sucked whirling your tongue around them to taste. That’s at least what you were trying to do but you couldn’t shake the wave of excitement that ran through you when he did that. He pulled his fingers out equally as slow and wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He kept his eyes fixed on you the whole time. He hummed with a stern face before it fell into the perfect smile. He dropped his eyes from yours and gazed down at your swollen boobs spilling out of the little top you were in. His breath caught in his throat. Desire started to course through him. He pulled you closer to him. He leaned further towards you but kept his thumb right on your lips. He was teasing you, waiting for you to make the first move. He licked his lips and gave up waiting before his juicy pout crashed into you. You let out a quiet whine. He tasted so sweet from the frosting he had tried before. He hungrily dropped his hands to your ass, gripping it. “You’re so sexy.” Trent softly groaned. The kiss was needy and messy. He started to peel off your clothes. His fingers dipping down towards your pussy. “Already wet f’me, baby?” He whispered with a smirk. You tried to respond but stuttered and ended up just nodding. You were fucking adorable. In a flash you were up in your bedroom lying on the mattress. Trent pulled you towards him by your ankle. You squealed with a giggled as he dragged you. He got on top of you and pulled the lace thong you were in off with a shaky breath trying to compose himself. Your arms draped over his shoulder. He looked down at you and slipped his hand under your top to brush over your hard nipples. You were so sensitive you couldn’t help but whimper. His pearly white teeth flashed in a smile before they dropped and began to nibble against your nipples. He always tried to be gentle since you got pregnant but in the heat of the moment it was hard to restrain yourselves. You were gripping on the bed sheets above your head. You were babbling the most lewd things, you couldn’t even believe the things you were whining out. When he slowed he took your legs and placed them over his shoulder. That was like a death sentence for you. You loved it, he knew you loved it. It was a match made in heaven and quickly you started to unravel.

“I’m gonna cum!” You inhaled sharply as your chest heaved underneath him. Trent placed a harsh kiss onto the back of your leg. And then he stopped when your orgasm came crashing over you. “T…Oh my god. What?” You whined as your pussy fluttered around him. He relaxed his body so you dragged your foot down his chest sensually back to the bed.

“You need to understand how much I love you.” You were confused when he said that. You were pretty sure you understood just fine and he was showing you how much he did until he just stopped. “You need to see what I see.” He pulled out of you and you hissed. He turned you to face the large mirror in your room and stood behind you on the bed. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” He asked rather harshly. His warm breath fanning against the shell of your ear sent shivers down your spine. He playfully licked down the side of it only to nibble on your earlobe. He teased you, dragging his leaking tip through your folds circling your entrance. “Do you?” he slipped his cock into your pussy with no warning. The buildup in these few seconds when he wasn’t inside you was insane. You leaned back into him as he continued to build his pace again. He kissed your neck and you let out a desperate moan. Your heart swooned a little at the sentiment of his words. You stared into the mirror, watching him place gentle kisses against your skin in contrast to his harsh thrusts.

“I love you so fucking much.” You moaned out after a sharp breath when he hit a little bit deeper. His hand came around you and softly wrapped around your neck. He was so gentle dragging his finger down your throat. You knew he did it because he had said he wouldn’t earlier and it set you off. “T… Please, I need to cum.” The cutest scowl formed on your face.

“I got you. I got you, baby.” He whispered to your ear again. Your whines constantly getting louder. You felt like you were gonna black out. It felt so good. Your grip on him tightened and then you released. Your pussy spasmed around his cock. White hot pleasure coursed through you. Trent’s breathing deepened seeing you cum in the mirror. “God, you’re such a good girl f’me. I’m gonna cum, baby..” He threw his head back. Being able to see him had you barreling toward another high almost adjoining the other. He swallowed hard, fixing his gaze back on you as he reached between your legs. His fingers pinched your clit and you yelped out. He rubbed harsh circles repeatedly. You were a mess. The sounds in your room were nothing but pornographic. “Want me to cum inside?” You nodded your head completely drunk off his cock.

“Oh fuck! Fuck!” You whimpered, feeling both your own orgasm and his cum. He pumped you full, slowing his thrusts prolonging your high. You grinded back into him desperately needing a little more. His hands gripped your waist tight as he rocked into you a few more times

“Just… just need a little more. Fuck. Good girl.” He said almost silently out of breath, teetering toward drowsy. You both dramatically crashed back into your bed. You cuddled up to him with a giggle. That was exactly what you both needed.

“If I could fall in love with you for the first time all over again, Y/N, I would.” He panted, staring up and ceiling talking into the thick air. You pouted your lips at him.

“That’s really sweet, T.” You giggled leaning your head on his chest. “So this cheer you up more than cupcakes?”

“Massively, more than cupcakes, baby. Nothing could ever come close to comparing to you.” He smushed a kiss against your forehead.

You laid in bed the next morning. You woke up and rolled away from Trent unintentionally. You didn’t know he already had woken up. He furrowed his brow at you moving away from him, more often than not you woke up practically on top of one another, so he wasn’t having it. He extended one of his arms to come and wrap around your naked waist and playfully dragged you across the bed back toward him.

“Gotcha” he laughed in a groggy morning voice. You giggled and attempted to break out of his tight hold. He wouldn’t let go. Not this morning and not in a million years. He tucked you into his chest resting your head in the nape of your neck. You were so close that if you even opened your mouth in the slightest your lips would be on his skin. He whispered to you but you couldn’t exactly make it out. You think he said he loved you..

Despite the Champions League loss, Liverpool was still going to have a Parade in the city for their Premier League title. You helped Trent get ready, making him breakfast, before you sent him on his way to AXA for the 4+ hour parade he was about to embark on. You and Dianne thought it’d be nice to go to the house he grew up in to watch the route. It would be cute to be able to see his trajectory from his boyhood home to premier league winner. You also liked that he knew exactly where to find you while he was up on the bus. When the team buses went by he blew you a million kisses and he blew a million and one back. You stood and watched everyone drink and party. Lately, you didn’t feel like yourself and as you leaned your head onto George’s shoulder seeing the red flares fill the air you felt less like yourself then ever. Your body had changed so much and your ways of socializing had changed even more. You hardly felt yourself and yet you were watching Trent be more himself than ever.

Summer was in full swing. 30 degree weather and shitty ac was not helping the swelling you were dealing with. You had gotten to celebrate Trent’s success from this year but soon after it totally dissipated. The funny thing with footballers was as quickly as they were able to move on from their losses they did just the same with their wins. All eyes were on the upcoming season. The workouts, plans, activations, all sorts of things for football started right up again. You sat in your back garden by the pool on a late afternoon. You laid on separate chairs as long as you could but ultimately you ended up sitting yourself in between his legs sharing a seat. You leaned your back against his bare chest. He snaked his hands around your waist. Caressing your stomach. When your phone pinged. You got an email notification from Tyler and Trent’s manager.

“T…T…” you slapped at his arms. Your jaw dropped and a sudden jolt ran through your veins. Trent answered with a distracted hum. “No, seriously…” you cooed, turning your head back to him. “Did you just get Ty’s email!”

“My phone is inside. What’s it say, baby?” He pressed a kiss against your cheek peeking over you to look at your screen but you weren’t giving him a good enough view. His hands nicked the phone from you. “Let me see” he wanted to read the email in full.

“T.. we got invited to Paris fashion week!!!!” You squealed, kicking your feet up and down on the longue chair.

“Okay, okay, okay, excited girl. I’m assuming you want to go?” He laughed at you. Squeezing you tight. “We can, if you’re feeling up for it.”

“T… we have to. We have to pull together like looks* Can I dress you? Pleaseeeee” you began to babble excited imagining the fits. He rolled his eyes at your pestering and agreed. You bickered back and forth who had better style until the sun went down. You began walking back inside whilst Trent was rambling about what he wanted to have for dinner.

“You know it’s me, just admit it, baby…” you teased cutting him off and squeezing his hip. You never landed on an agreement of who dressed better. It was typical Trent, he knew he was wrong but he never wanted to lose.

“What are you on about?” He looked at you confused, swatting your hand away from him.

“I have better style. It was literally my job. Just concede for once, T.” You giggled going to pinch at him again.

“Nope!” He popped the ‘p’ laughing. “I dress better and I'm a lot faster too.” He slapped your ass and took off running like a little kid back into the house away from you

“That wasn’t up for debate! I’m pregnant, T! Be nice to me!!!” you whined left in the back garden. “This is your baby, come backkk!” You yelled after him. He turned around laughing.

“C’mere” he grunted, scooping you up carefully. “I’m always nice to you, baby.” He cooed with a big fat kiss.

“Can you come here pleasaaaseeee. I need to see this on you.” You whined begging Trent to come into the wardrobe. You sat on an ottoman there on FaceTime with Lauren as you packed for Paris. Trent had delegated his packing to you but he really needed to be there. You had worked as a stylist for major magazines so you offered to coordinate with his PR team and the brands of the shows you’d be attending. You worked together to decide what you were going to wear and in turn be delivering to your hotel on the day of the show. You were currently packing for all the rest of the days you were going to be there.

“I thought this is what you were on the phone for, Laur.” Trent laughed, jogging into the room. He heard Lauren’s voice before he entered. “What do you need, baby?” He cooed, pressing a kiss on your head.

“Can you put this on for me?” You tossed a short sleeve Louis Vuitton button up shirt towards him and he snatched it out of the air, putting it on the island while he took his top off. You were 50/50 on the color at the moment. Trent pulled his shirt over his head. Leaving his toned abs on full display. You looked Trent and then back at Lauren with full cheeks and mouthed a ‘yum’ at her. She fed into it and teasingly whistled at Trent.

“Stop objectifying me.” He feigned offense. You rolled your eyes at him because no matter who said it you knew he loved when people liked the way he looked.

“Aw baby you’re just so pretty.” You cooed with a giggle. To be fair, you were incredibly serious. He did look really good. He swung the shirt around his back to slip his arm in.

“Yeah, T, you’re so pretty.” Lauren laughed only egging the situation on. Trent threw her a less than impressed stare. You bit your lip watching his big hands do the small buttons.

“Yes or no?” He asked as he finished the last one. He left the top two undone and he looked good you just were trying to focus on the actual shirt.

“Erm… “ you pondered for a second. Trent spun around with his arms out to show you it in full.

“Good modeling," you giggled, drawing a smile from him. You decided you liked it. The shirt would work.

“We’re done? I can go?” Trent asked wanting to get back to whatever he was doing. All you knew was that he wasn’t packing. You just hummed. He came over to you and pecked your lips. “Thank you baby.” He cooed standing above you taking off the shirt. You ran your hands up his taut abs.

You were upstairs the entire day, accessories bags, toiletries, there were so many things to get together. Frankly you loved packing. It was your two favorite things: organizing and clothes. You zipped the last bag and laid on the floor exhausted.

You landed in Paris and were thrilled. You got off the plane onto the tarmac. Trent carried your bag in one and held your hand in the other.

“Mon amour” he held the door of the room for you to enter. Followed by the bellhop with all your bags.

“Merci joli garçon” you replied giggling hearing his silly accent attempt French. ( thank you pretty boy) you sat down on the couch and let out a sigh exhausted from the flight.

“Oh yeah?” He laughed at your dramatics. “You hungry, baby?” Trent ask cupping your jaw swiping his thumb over your cheek.

“I need to change but yes.” You smiled back at him. You showered together and then got dressed. You put on a on denim shacket dress, gold strappy sandal heels, and a light blue Fendi bag with gold hardware. You needed to stop wearing heels soon or you were going to die but honestly Paris wasn’t the place you were going to stop.

You were outside at a favorite cafe of yours in the sixth arrondissement. You sat next to Trent in black and dark green rattan chairs looking out to the street at a small circular table. You were hungry and landed on doing your own taste test of a few different crepes. Your tabletop was covered entirely with plates.

“I think I’m just happy with the chocolate…” you told Trent looking at him with a smile reaching towards his face. You wiped your thumb over the corner of his mouth to get a bit of chocolate.

“Yeah? You were never a chocolate person until her.” He spoke looking at your hidden stomach. “I’m more into sweets, you know? I think I lean towards the berry ones.” You dragged your smooth leg over his under the table. You hummed interested in everything he had to say but you pulled him in for a kiss in the middle of his sentence. You lips pressed into each other.

“Sweet” you cooed, pulling away from his perfect pout. He gave you a cheesy smile and you returned one just the same.

“Me or the crepe?” He laughed looking into your eyes. He placed his big hand on your bare thigh and squeezed high up.

“Mmmm both I guess.” You giggled before picking up your fork to take another bite of the chocolate crepe. “Do you want to go to a few shops before we go back for dinner?” You asked after you had seen the Dior store on your walk over to the cafe. He agreed so you went after you got full from all the crepes and browsed for a while. You really wanted a Book Tote for your holiday to the Maldives but ended up with that, a pair of silk pants, and Dway slides. As you were walking with your sales associate to check out you spotted the Dior bracelet sets. “Want to match with me?” You picked one up holding it towards Trent.

“Yeah, baby. I’ll match with you.” He grabbed it from you and inspected it. He held it over his wrist to imagine it on him. “This one though.” He grabbed a different color. He held it over his wrist to check again and then yours. “Yeah, this one is for us.” You nodded with a childish grin liking the way his face looked while he thought. You had moved into the mens section looking at trainers with Trent when you saw it.

“Ohhhh my god T…” you whined with a pout, taping his arm, seeing the entrance into a separate part of the store for Baby Dior.

“We can go…” he laughed at you taking one trainer he was trying on off. He held your hands as you walked in. You leaned your head onto his shoulder and hummed. He pressed a kiss to your head as you made your way to where new born things were. You two had a field day. You always loved shopping but in Dior… with Trent… for your baby… it was the absolute dream.

“Babbbyyyy, she needs these.” Trent groaned. He held up a little pair of high top trainers. You knew pretty quickly that Trent was going to give this little girl everything. He already gave everything to you but throw in chubby cheeks and his dna in the mix, he was a goner.

“Yeah, T. I like those.” You giggled as he furrowed his brow, inspecting the shoe size chart for age to months trying to figure it out. It was really adorable how dedicated he was to learning all things about babies and little girls.

“et nous pouvons envoyer tout ça en Angleterre?” You asked the sales associate before you paid for an obscene amount of stuff. You took French in school your whole life and it always came in handy. You felt like you got better service when you were in France so you handled the check out. The women nodded at you. “Parfait, merci.” You cooed. (And we can send all this to England? , Perfect, thank you)

“Beautiful and smart” Trent came to stand in front of you and nuzzled his nose against yours. You kissed his plump lips. You felt your cheeks warm as he pulled you into his chest. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. He picked his head up and said thank you to the sales associate before being escorted out of that side of the store. You took about one step out the door before someone had spotted Trent that had been waiting to meet him. You took a photo for them and didn’t think anything of it but the internet sure had a lot to say.

‘Are they in front of BABY DIOR?’

‘OMG are they going to Paris Fashion Week??!?’

‘Are we going to talk about the fact that Trent Alexander Arnold is walking out of baby dior in France today?’

‘If she is pregnant, that baby is going to be beautiful… omg’

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 5 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #taa66 #oursfic