#top brand purses

[confidential-couture]

Cash in Your Timepiece: Maximising Returns by Selling Pre-Loved Audemars Piguet Watches

Introduction

Hi there, friends who also love watches! You have an Audemars Piguet on your wrist, and you're thinking it might be time to part with this exquisite example of watchmaking craftsmanship. Maybe you want to maximise your investment, or maybe you're contemplating an upgrade. In any case, if you play your cards well, selling a pre-loved Audemars Piguet watch can be a profitable undertaking. We can help you with everything from determining the worth of your watch to handling the selling procedure. Now let's get going!

Knowing How Much Your Audemars Piguet Is Worth

It's important to know what makes your Audemars Piguet tick, pun intended, before you consider selling. Limited manufacturing runs, creative designs, and exceptional craftsmanship are characteristics that set AP timepieces apart. Because of their prestigious position, these watches are continuously in demand because collectors and watch aficionados are always searching for them.

Model and Unpredictability

There are more sought-after Audemars Piguet watch models than others. The Royal Oak and Royal Oak Offshore collections, for instance, are quite well-liked. Limited editions and outdated models might fetch greater prices because of their scarcity.

State and Origin

Naturally, well-maintained watches with few scratches and original parts would fetch a greater price because condition matters if you want to sell your second hand luxury watch. The value of the watch can be greatly increased if it is resold with the original box, paperwork, and servicing records.

Getting Your Watch Ready for a Sale

When you've determined your Audemars Piguet's prospective worth, it's time to get it ready for sale. The amount you eventually receive can vary significantly depending on how well-prepared you are.

Tidy and helpful

Initial impressions count. Take your watch to a professional if it hasn't been serviced in a while. In addition to looking nicer, a well-maintained watch reassures prospective customers of its functionality.

Compile Records

The original box, papers, and service records can all add to the watch's worth, as was previously indicated. Serious buyers need verification of authenticity and care, which these documents offer.

Selecting the Appropriate Selling Platform

Every selling method has advantages and disadvantages, and the best one will rely on your requirements, whether they be ease, quickness, or maximum returns.

Dealers and Retailers

To sell Pre-loved Audemars Piguet watches can be a daunting task. It can be directly purchased by a large number of luxury watch vendors. Although selling directly to a customer may result in a lower price, this method is more convenient and pays out right away.

Individual Sales

Because you eliminate the middlemen, private sales through word-of-mouth or internet forums can generate significant profits. But this approach comes with a higher risk, particularly when it comes to payment and fraud, and to sell pre-loved luxury watches it takes more work in terms of marketing and negotiating.

Calculating Audemars Piguet Costs

Achieving the best return on investment and drawing in customers both depend on pricing your product appropriately. This is the method to follow:

Examine the Condition of the Watch

Depending on how well your watch is working, change your price. Watches in mint condition will sell for more than ones with apparent wear and tear.

Consider Demand and Rarity

Models with special features or limited editions can fetch greater costs. In a similar vein, you may be able to raise the price of your particular model if there is a large market for it.

Keep It Real

Although it may be tempting to aspire for the best price, selling your luxury items, especially watches faster can come from setting reasonable expectations. If you overcharge your watch, it may remain unsold for a long time.

Concluding the Transaction

Once an agreed-upon price has been reached, it's time to seal the deal. This is how to make sure the transaction goes well.

Safe Transaction

Select a safe payment option to keep yourself and the customer safe. PayPal, bank transfers, and escrow services are available options. Because of the possibility of fraud, never accept personal cheques or wire payments from unidentified buyers.

Give Records

Along with the watch, include all pertinent documentation. Included in this are the original box, paperwork, servicing records, and any other items that attest to the watch's provenance and authenticity.

Transport Safely

When shipping the watch, make sure the package is well-protected and utilise a reputable courier service. Make sure the shipment is fully insured, and when it is delivered, get a signature.

Observation

Make sure the customer is happy with their purchase by following up with them after the transaction. Positive reviews can be beneficial if you want to keep up your good reputation in the watch community and decide to sell pre-loved luxury watches in the future.

Sustaining Your Connection

Creating and sustaining a network of prospective customers and watch aficionados can be very helpful when it comes to marketing luxury timepieces. This network can help you locate the ideal buyer for your Audemars Piguet, as well as offer insightful advice and recommendations.

Participate in Watch Communities and Forums

Fans of watches offer advice, anecdotes, and—most importantly—potential customers on sites like Watchuseek, TimeZone, and Reddit's r/Watches. Participate in conversations, impart your expertise, and establish relationships that may prove beneficial in the future.

Attend Events and Watch Shows

Attending expos, watching shows, and other horological events is a terrific way to meet people in person and network to gain more insights about the best places to sell luxury watches. Collectors, dealers, and business people attend these events. If you tell your tale and bring your Audemars Piguet, you might meet someone who wants to buy your watch.

Utilise Social Media

To reach a larger audience, share the narrative of your Audemars Piguet, upload high-quality pictures and videos of it, and add pertinent hashtags. Interact with your fans by joining watch enthusiast groups or sites. Recognising Market Trends

You may sell your Audemars Piguet with a big edge if you keep an eye on market trends. Knowing what's in and out of style will help you schedule your sale to make the most money.

Keep an eye on the markets

Check the performance of comparable watches regularly by visiting online marketplaces and auction results. This might help you gauge demand and pricing trends. Consider whether some models or features are more in demand than others, and modify your plan of action accordingly.

Examine industry reports

A comprehensive understanding of the luxury watch market can be obtained from industry reports and market analysis. Periodicals that offer sellers useful information include Hodinkee, WatchPro, and The Business of Fashion, which frequently publish articles and research on industry trends.

Adhere to Experts and Influencers

Experts and watch influencers frequently discuss market trends and new fashion trends. You can keep up with trends and make well-informed judgments about selling your watch by following these people on social media or reading their blogs.

When to Make a Sale

When it comes to marketing a high-end watch, timing does matter. Seasonal changes, economic considerations, and market conditions can all affect the value of your watch.

Managing the Ethical and Legal Considerations

Selling a pricey product like an Audemars Piguet watch has ethical and legal ramifications. A smooth transaction depends on your adherence to ethical standards and legal compliance.

Check the legitimacy

Before you sell, be sure your watch is authentic. Your reputation can be harmed and legal problems brought on by fake timepieces.

Complete Disclosure

Regarding the state and past of your watch, be truthful. It is not only moral to disclose any repairs, replacements, or defects, but it also fosters trust among prospective purchasers.

Establishing a Credibility

The way you are seen in the watch industry will have a big influence on your capacity to sell future watches as well as your existing Audemars Piguet.

Deliver Superior Assistance

Handle each sale with care and professionalism. Give clear instructions, thorough explanations, and top-notch customer support. Repeat business and recommendations are two benefits of a successful sales encounter.

Collect Evaluations and Testimonials

Urge pleased customers to provide reviews or testimonials. Positive reviews strengthen your brand and reassure potential customers about your reliability.

Continue to Participate

Even after your sale, stay in touch with the watch community. By remaining active, you can preserve your reputation and stay up to date on opportunities and market trends.

The Affective Dimension

The procedure can go more smoothly if these feelings are acknowledged and controlled.

Think Back on Your Selection

Think over your reasons for selling the second hand luxury watch for a while. Being specific about your reasons for selling will make you feel more at ease, whether it's to upgrade to a new model, reduce costs, or just because it no longer suits your taste.

Treasure the Recollections

Recall the occasions and adventures you shared with your Audemars Piguet. It may be a little easier to part with the watch if you take some time to value it and what it means to you. Consider the next step. Anticipating future benefits, such as purchasing a new watch, switching investments, or just taking pleasure in the sale's cash gains, might help ease your pain when it comes to selling your timepiece.

ConclusionIt can be satisfying to sell a pre-owned Audemars Piguet watch, both monetarily and emotionally. India is not far behind in this trend. Your priceless watch can find a new home here where you can easily Sell preloved audemars piguet watches in India, fuss free. You can maximise your profits by knowing its value, preparing it correctly, selecting the best place to sell luxury watches, pricing it appropriately, and bargaining skillfully. Whether you're a novice seller or an experienced collector, following these pointers will help you successfully and confidently navigate the process. So feel free to cash in your watch and perhaps even begin daydreaming about the next item of jewellery you will buy. Cheers to your successful sales!

[taraxacum-vulpes]

god i hate modern fashion

[rafecameronssl4t]

Tell ur girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Topper’s new girl being a bitch so you just have to remind her where her place is.

Warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 431

a/n: send me requests pleaseee 🫶

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

Posted up with my dogs, Scooby Doo type shit. She grippin’ all on my balls, I gotta move type shit. Diamonds, they cover my flaws, I got that brand new type shit.

You step into the dimly lit space of the party, left hand sporting a red plastic cup, your other holding your purse as you move amidst the chaotic atmosphere. The pulsating bass of Future’s ‘Type Shit’ reverberating through the air, the scent of alcohol and sweat mingles with the thrum of excitement, creating an intoxicating ambiance that electrifies the senses.

You navigate through the crowded room, your gaze fixed on Rafe, sat on one of the couches with a few people around, his presence commanding attention wherever he goes. You catch glimpses of familiar faces—like topper and kelce—their expressions a blend of excitement and indulgence, but your focus remains on Rafe.

He hadn’t noticed you as he was talking to a guy standing behind the couch, but Topper did, and he tapped Rafe on the shoulder and cocked his head to your direction. He watches you as you come closer with that grin you knew all too well. He let his eyes wander down your figure as you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks burn up.

Without even setting down your purse or cup, you immediately leaned over to Rafe as his hand rests on your hip, your lips meeting in a kiss. All while this was happening, you could hear Topper ushering the girl beside him to move to his other side. Your eyes move to an unfamiliar girl, her blonde locks cascading around her shoulders as she’s pressed up against your boyfriend’s arm, her expression one of casual indifference.

Your eyes then flicker towards Topper’s hand resting on her thigh. So this must be Top’s new girl, Cassie I think her name was. “Yo Top, tell your girl to move over yeah?” Rafe leans back on the sofa manspreading as his eyes lock with Topper’s behind the blonde girl’s head.

You notice the subtle change of demeanour in Cassie as she looks down at her painted nails. “Babe, just move here,” Topper pats the free space on his other side as she scoffs. “Why should I? I was here first,” she scoffs, glancing at you as she dismissively tosses her hair.

Rafe watches Cassie with a measured gaze, his eyes betraying none of the amusement that flickers in their depths. “Cassie, right?” The blonde blinks up at you, “Could you just please move over? You’ll still be sitting next to Top,” You assert, your tone firm but composed. Rafe’s lips quirk up in a barely contained smile.

“Nothing,” She shrugs, “I’m just not moving,” she declares defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest in a gesture of defiance. In your peripheral vision, Topper closes his eyes briefly before letting out a breath, “Cassie, it’s not a big fuckin’ deal, just move and let Y/n sit there.” His tone agitated.

Your patience wears thin at her stubbornness, frustration simmering beneath the surface. With a sigh, you shoot Rafe a pleading look, silently urging him to intervene. But Rafe merely watches the exchange with a hint of amusement, his lips quirking up in a barely concealed smile.

Before you can respond, Rafe’s deep voice slices through the thick tension in the room, calm yet imbued with an unmistakable authority. His eyes lock onto yours, his expression firm but not unkind. “Come on, Cassie. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he says. His words resonate with a weight that leaves no room for argument.

“Fucking forget about it,” your voice cuts through the air as the three of them watch you set down your things on the glass table. Then, without missing a beat, you settle onto Rafe’s lap, his arms instinctively wrapping around you. Your boot-covered feet find their place on Cassie’s lap, causing her eyes to widen in shock

Topper stifles his laugh as Rafe smirks, his large hand resting on your exposed stomach. Topper’s laughs become audible, drawing a sharp glare from Cassie. “Fuck you all,” she snaps, pushing herself off the couch and shooting you a withering look before stalking off into the crowd.

“Jesus Christ, Top, where are you finding these girls? Bitch island?” You shook your head at him as he rolls his eyes, leaning back on the couch. “Fucked If I know. Maybe I should steer clear of blondes,” Topper grumbles. Rafe snorts, “That’s about the smartest think you’ve said in a long time.”

[aamircoeur]

kissing, i hope they caught us ー Ken Sato.

wherein ken sato finds himself waiting for the calls of his fuck buddy.

SMUT, read at your own risk. one-shot. female reader, UNEDITED.

"same time, uh, tomorrow?" ken said from behind you. you slipped into your blouse and turned to him, who was currently topless and fastening his belt, his hair pointed in all directions.

"tomorrow? we just fucked, ken." you laughed light-heartedly. "i'm a busy woman."

kenji looked at you while he sat at the edge of his bed, rubbing his shoulder. "n-next week?" he offered.

you sighed and smiled at him. finishing the top button of your blouse, you walked towards him and grabbed your purse from his nightstand. "i'll call you." you said, kissing his cheek as goodbye.

ー

liar, kenji said to himself. it has been well over two weeks since your last interaction, and he has been anxious to meet you again, to feel you. to touch you, to have you on your kneesー god damn it.

sighing deeply, he ran his hands through his jet-black hair and slouched on his couch. he had his phone on his couch with his tabs revealing your, [name] [surname], japan's hottest supermodel, social media accounts. he had his television opened and has been playing various movies over the past hours, but he seemed to pay no mind to them with how often he was refreshing your accounts for the hope of any updates of your whereabouts.

shit, he even stooped to a new low, stalking multiple fan accounts of yours on twitter to see if they had any clue. the opened laptop in front of him was stuck to his direct messages with you, revealing how he replied a thumbs up to your message saying, "thank u for tn ;)".

he felt stupid. should he have been more open? maybe he should've responded differently. who even responds to a girl with a thumbs up? real mature, kenji.

he was anxious, bouncing his leg as he kept sighing over and over. why weren't you messaging him? he was the ken sato. did he kiss you too hard? did he fuck you too roughly?

leaning back into the couch, he ran his hand once more for the nth time this evening. he was overthinking. he couldn't have all these thoughts with the upcoming tournament that he's been looking forward to for the past two months. but lately, all he seemed to think about was how good it felt to be inside you.

sighing again, ken had his phone in his hands and went back to refreshing your account. to his absolute surprise, you had a new post on instagram, uploaded sixteen seconds ago. it was an image of you with a bra that fit you so perfectly, baggy jeans that rested on your hips, and underwear that seemed to grip on your waist with the brand's name on the garter.

the baseball player stared at his phone with a blank face before knitting his eyebrows together and groaning, adjusting his pants with the sudden uncomfortable feeling. this is bad.

—

"my scan tells me that your blood circulation has been increased at a certain area—"

"i did not need a scan, mina!" ken gritted, frustrated. "i'll be back late!" he shouted as a way to drown out whatever mina said next as he shut the front door on his way out. ken walked towards his motorcycle, fitting into his black helmet before quickly driving to a nearby bar.

upon arriving, kenji took off his helmet and gave it to the valet parker, with along with his keys and some cash. "take care of her, alright?" ken said, referring to the bike. the valet nodded. kenji held the sunglasses that he hung on the front of his shirt and put it on before walking towards the entrance.

seeing the long line behind the stanchion, kenji smirked and walked towards the bouncer who blocked him from coming inside with his arm. "name?"

ken raised an eyebrow and lowered his sunglasses. "sato." he said. the bouncer gaped and got his arm out of the way and opening the doors for him instead, apologizing for not recognizing him earlier.

ken was met with beaming lights within the darkness of the place, the air smelling of alcohol and the loud sound of the song that the dj played bouncing off the walls. ken took a deep breath in and sighed, and after a few steps in he was immediately accommodated by a blonde hostess, handing him a glass of champagne before latching on to his arm as she giggled and guided him to an empty table.

it was already past midnight and ken surprised himself by not drinking to his limits this time. there were women holding on to both of his arms, some handing him fruits while one held the bottle for his drink. he was also accompanied by strangers that seemed to need a breather. "hey, pretty, care to get me another glass?" kenji said to the brunette on his left with a sly smile.

the brunette giggled and pulled down her skirt before standing up "sure thing, ken." she smiled.

"there's no need for that, sweetie." he heard someone say from behind them. almost immediately, ken sato turned his head and his eyes widened at the sight of you. fuck. it was you. "hey, kenji. what brings you here?" you smiled and walked around the couch and made your way towards him. everyone at the table stood up and walked towards another unoccupied table, knowing the protocol.

"[n-name]?" ken stuttered, his hand running through the side of his hair as he fixed his posture. you giggled at him and took the brunette's former seat, taking the almost-empty tall glass of champagne that he held and sipped on it. "what, what're you doin' here?" he slurred, tipsy.

"oh, nothing. just here with some friends." you smiled and placed the glass to his lips, making sure that it was the same spot that you drank from. taking a deep breath, ken leaned into the glass and sipped, some slipping from the corners of his mouth. you placed the glass down to the table and wiped the trail of champagne on his chin. kenji only stared at you. flustered, you looked down at his hands and held it. "i missed you, kenji." you said.

kenji stared at you. he forgot how beautiful you were. how could he ever forget that?

kenji held your hand and interlocked your fingers. "yeah, well, you didn't seem to wanna let me know that little fact of yours over the last two weeks." he said, his cheeks reddening as he avoided eye contact.

you laughed at his shyness and held on to his hand tighter. "'m sorry, baby." you smiled and leaned in to his ear. "but, i can let you know just how much i missed you, baby." you whispered. "my place?"

—

it has been yet another two weeks since your last night together. kenji was one week into the tournament that he has been preparing for and he has been busy as ever. coach shimura has confiscated their cellphones to give the yomiuri giants their well-needed concentration on their trainings and game days.

after a weekend long of back-to-back games, coach shimura has finally given back the players their phones to reward them of their zero losses so far. upon unlocking it, kenji was met with multiple messages from you, telling him how much you miss him, telling him how good he looked in the field, letting him know of what you did while thinking of him . . .

he was flushed after reading everything, and in between messages he also received missed calls from you, and one voicemail.

"baby, can you call me back? it's so lonely in my mansion."

taglist: @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @ttulipwritezz

[st7rnioioss]

*ੈ … “hi vlog!!” you smiled with a giggle, waving at the camera. you were currently in the airport with your boyfriend, matt, going to boston for a short visit.

you sat in a café that was located right after you get through the duty free area, drinking a cup of coffee and eating a sandwich while you waited to board your flight.

“this is matt. say hi,” you chuckled, tilting the camera to the side to show matt’s face, his arm around your shoulders.

“babe, they know who i am,” he laughed with you, shaking his head as you turned the camera back to you.

you rolled your eyes at him. “what a party pooper. you didn’t even say hi,” you tried zooming in on your face, pouting at the camera while matt’s laugh could be heard in the background.

“anyway - matt here got me a sandwich and a coffee. isn’t that so nice of him?” rhetorically asking, you flipped the camera to show the sandwich, even explaining what kind of you were having.

“oh! by the way guys, i got new shoes!” you smiled excitedly, showing off the shoes matt got for you.

“aren’t they so cute? matt actually got them for me a few days ago.” you explained, zooming in on your shoes to show off the small details.

after vlogging for a bit, eating lunch with your boyfriend, getting a few waters, you decided to walk around the airport, going through different stores.

“okay guys, now we’re walking around the shops here in the airport. matt when was the flight boarding?” you asked him, looking up him for an answer.

matt reached a hand into the backpack. “i think we’re boarding at 3:30. so in forty minutes.” matt mumbled as he checked the boarding passes, just to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, while you turned the camera to record him.

“alright! well, we got plenty of time then.” you shot a smile to the camera, while matt laid his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to kiss the top of your head.

you walked around the different stores with matt, looking at makeup, perfumes, clothes, and some snacks for the flight.

you recorded matt as he looked at the different sodas in a tiny kiosk-looking store, giggling as he looked very focused.

“what are you finding, matt?” you smiled, recording him over his shoulder.

he had a root beer in one hand, the other a few different snacks.

“uh, i’m trying to figure out what he difference is between these two. look, that root beer has a red cap, but this one had a grey or silver looking cap. but it’s the same brand.” he explained, showing the two different bottles to the camera.

“oh, isn’t that one.. um. i don’t know..?” you shrugged, recording matt’s face, who looked very confused, which made you laugh.

“anyways, guys look. i got a new lipgloss.” you said, showing the pink lipgloss you had gotten in one of the stores just down the huge hall.

“it’s pink! and - wait for it.. it even smells like strawberries.” you smiled, opening the lipgloss to smell it for the hundredth time, stuffing it in your purse again, taking a few steps away from matt.

you leaned closer to the camera, whispering quietly.

“matt really likes it. if you know what i mean…” you winked with a proud smile, turning the camera to sneakily record matt, who had moved on from the root beer, finding your favorite soda in the fridge.

you walked up to him, acting like nothing happened.

“aw, thank you, matt!” you giggled, wiggling your eyebrows at the camera before tapping his back to kiss him. your comment about the lipgloss a second ago sure wasn’t a lie.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

“okay, boring stuff now. i think we’re gonna go to the gate, but i’m not sure.” you explain, fixing your hair in the camera lens.

matt in the back looked very focused, listening to the announcement in the speakers that had played soft music. he made sure it was the right flight the voice on the speakers was talking about, telling you it was your groups time to board the flight.

you explained the plans you guys had made for your visit, showing a few more things that matt had bought for himself, even showing the keychains you had on your purse.

“- this one i think i got at a fair. it’s a little kitty with a big hat on.” you said in a baby voice, trying to copy the one matt always did, while showing the keychain to the camera with a smile.

matt looked back at you, smiling when he saw you showing off the different keychains.

“hey, we gotta go. we’re boarding in ten.” he tapped your shoulder, kissing your cheek gently.

you returned a kiss to his cheek, giving him a small ‘thank you’ with a smile.

“noo! more boring stuff now, guys.” you pouted, putting on an exaggerated act, giving the camera a thumbs down as you stood up to grab your stuff.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @toriinie @cupidzsq @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sweetbabydoe @bambi-slxt @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @keerahsturn @twitchstreammattsgf @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @k-l-a-w-s @pearlzier @pjmpcyy @mbsbaby @christhopersturniolo @mattspolitank @sarosfilms @pettydollie @hollandsangel @hansumswife

[rugschouhan]

Main Characteristic of Chouhan Rugs which Differs us from others in the market

Chouhan rugs are known for best with unique designs for traditional and modern handwoven Jute rugs that originate from the Chouhan region in India. 

These rugs are known for their intricate designs, vibrant colors, and durability, and are highly sought after by collectors and enthusiasts around the world. However, Jute rugs are not the only type of traditional rug on the market there are many other competitors in the industry, but we want to tell what differs Chouhan Rugs from others

Note :- While compared to Jaipur Rugs, regarding  round rugs online , Jute Cushion Covers , jute pillow covers seller  a superior combination of quality, design, and affordability. While both companies offer jute products, our range is more diverse and includes a wider variety of styles and designs to choose from. Additionally, our focus on sustainable and eco-friendly production methods sets us apart in the market. Overall, we believe our jute products are the perfect choice for customers looking for stylish and sustainable home decor options.

1. Designs of every category of products:

Chouhan Rugs boasts a specialized team of artisans who meticulously craft each product to be unique and imbued with a rich history of design. In contrast, other companies lack the expertise and resources to assemble a team of artisans with a deep understanding of design history.

2. Uniqueness in products:

Chouhan Rugs is committed to manufacturing products that are not only distinctive in design, but also unparalleled in quality, attention to detail, elegance, and messaging related to the design. Conversely, other companies do not prioritize the creation of unique products and may overlook crucial aspects that contribute to a product's distinctiveness.

3. Quality of Material:

At Chouhan Rugs, quality is of the utmost importance. Each product is crafted with exceptional attention to detail, ensuring that the final result is of the highest quality. Conversely, other companies may not be as dedicated to producing products of superior quality and may offer products that are subpar in comparison to those manufactured by Chouhan Rugs.

4. Price Range of every product in the market:

Chouhan Rugs is committed to providing top-quality products that are both unique in design and competitively priced in the market. We are confident that no other company offers the same level of quality and uniqueness at such a reasonable price point. We take pride in offering products that are unmatched in their craftsmanship, beauty, and value.

5. Free shipping across the Country:

Chouhan Rugs is dedicated to providing exceptional customer service, which is why we offer free shipping on all of our products nationwide, without any additional charges beyond the product price listed in the order. Conversely, other companies may not offer this level of convenience and may apply additional charges for shipping in different regions of the country. At Chouhan Rugs, we strive to make the purchasing experience as seamless and hassle free as possible for our valued customers.

Read Our Previous Blog:(Jute Rugs and Jute Cushion Covers: A Sustainable and Stylish Addition to Your Home Decor by Chouhan)

For more information and new updates Visit to our website:-chouhanrugs.com

Visit Our Social Links:

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[pasukiyo]

I WANT YOUR VIDEO

college baseball player!leon x f!reader word count: 3,836 warnings: sex tape, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex with seemingly creampie, hint of corruption kink, leon's kind of an fboy if you squint, brief spanking synopsis: you've just gotten a brand new video camera and leon intends to use it properly...

 “Shit, shit, shit!”

 She curses through gritted teeth as she repeatedly jabs her finger against the record button, sliding her hand through the handle on the side of the small device, hastily bringing the viewfinder to her right eye. She quickly finds Leon where he stands in his ready position at third base just in time, as the batter swings and hits a ground ball that heads straight for him. 

 She gasps and her breath hitches, and she holds it in her throat as the scene seems to unravel in slow motion. Leon scoops the ball into his glove and shuffles into his throwing motion, her camcorder follows the ball as it soars through the air towards the first baseman and into his glove. 

 The runner only hits first base a second after the ball hits the glove. 

 Leon’s won the game. 

 She moves the viewfinder away from her eye to throw both hands in the air, her cheer emitting more as a shrill scream as the bleachers erupt into an uproar of applause. She watches Leon as his face splits into a grin, jumping in the air and pumping his fist in the air as his teammates crowd around him, banging their fists on his back, their palms on the top of his head. 

 She laughs and aims the camera back down to them, watching through the viewfinder as Leon disappears behind a wall of cheering baseball players. The wall crumbles only for a moment as two men dump the contents of a water cooler over Leon’s head, his dark blonde hair flattening against his forehead and beads of water drip down his face as he lifts his head and hollers. 

 People begin to make their way down from the stands and towards the field, which she takes as her cue to cut the recording to make her own way down to the dugout. She does her best to slither her way past the sea of bodies before her and she rolls onto the tips of her toes, searching for Leon between heads. She huffs, pursing her lips as she decides to just wait for him to find her until she feels a pair of hands on her waist and she shrieks as she’s lifted up into the air. 

 Someone hollers behind her and she kicks out with her feet, squirming to try and get a glimpse over her shoulder. 

 “Leon!” She whines as she’s finally set onto the ground and spun around, a hand on the small of her back drawing her into his chest. A mixture of water and sweat drops from Leon Kennedy’s forehead to the tip of her nose and she wrinkles it, reaching up with her free hand to wipe it away. “Gross. You’re all sticky and sweaty.”

 In a sea of dark blue, there seems to be a reflection of a star, one she’s become all too familiar with. She narrows her eyes at the mischievous gleam in his eyes as he scrunches his nose, nudging her forehead with his. 

 “Don’t give me that,” he whispers, drawing his mouth to hers. “You know you love it,” he says against her lips and she rolls her eyes, locking her arms around his neck. “You wish, Leon Kennedy,” she mutters back, unable to help the curving of her lips as Leon practically swallows them with his, groaning into her mouth. 

 The sheer force of Leon’s kiss nearly makes her drop the camera and after only a fleeting moment, she pulls away, hyper aware of the fact that they were most definitely not alone. 

 “You almost made me drop my brand new camera,” she complains, unraveling her arms from around his neck to fuss with her camera, willing the blood in her cheeks to cool down. Leon moans against the crown of her head, pressing a kiss to her skin.

 “Wouldn’t want that,” he murmurs, pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Their eyes meet again and her bottom lip quivers against his fingers because suddenly she knows what that roguish glint in his eyes earlier means. He leans in closer until their noses almost touch, “haven’t even gotten to put it to good use yet.”

 

They barely made it through the door of Leon’s dorm before he was already tearing her shirt off. 

 “Leon!” She moans as his kisses trail down her lips and to that delicate patch of skin on her neck that always has her knees wobbling. Her hands find his shoulders and fists a handful of his fresh, clean shirt as he backpedals towards his bedroom, kicking a foot behind him to open the door. He tugs her inside and kicks it back closed behind her, his teeth marking her neck, his forefinger lifting the strap of her bag away from her shoulder. 

 However, before he can absentmindedly toss it to the floor, he blinks, pulling away from her altogether. Her skin is warm and her vision has begun to blur but she blinks throughout, her brows knit as she watches him sift through the contents of her bag. 

 “What are you doing?” She pants and she watches as he finally fishes out what he’d been looking for. “A-ha!” He grins, holding up her brand new video camera. He begins trying to navigate all the different buttons and her spine stiffens at the sight— somehow, in her lust-drunken haze, she’d forgotten all about Leon’s intentions for tonight. 

 She’s not sure if the idea either turns her on more or makes her want to vomit. 

 Either way, there’s an ache between her legs and she swallows, trying to resist the urge to press her thighs together to quell it. 

 “Leon, you’re not seriously…?” She trails off as he finally finds the record button, pressing down on it, sliding his hand through the strap on the side, and holding the camcorder up to face her. She freezes when she realizes she’s being recorded and draws her brows together. “Leon!”

 She lunges, reaching for the camera but he backs away and she can see his toothy, little grin peeking out from the side of the folded-out screen. With the camera aimed at her face, reaches out to cup her cheek, drawing her in for another kiss. 

 “What? Isn’t this what cameras are used for?” He murmurs against her lips and she rolls her eyes, peeking towards the camera from corners of her vision. Leon’s tongue swirls her mouth and she hums into his kiss, already feeling her opposition begin to fade. She pulls away just enough to whisper, “you’re a menace, Leon Kennedy.”

 Her eyes flutter open to find he’s already staring, drawing her further into that dark, lustrous ocean of his that never fails to make liquid of her insides. His breath looms over her face like rolling smoke and she’s sinking with her head below his surface. Her gaze drops to his lips as they curve into a roguish, crooked grin. 

 “And you love it,” he mutters before her lips are enveloped with his again. She moans into his mouth as she cups either side of his face, bringing him in even closer to her orbit. 

 It's primal, the way he kisses her and she matches with equal fervor, fingers gripping locks of hair at the nape of his neck, pulling hard enough to make him groan into her mouth. His hand not preoccupied with the camcorder finds her hip, palming the flesh through her little denim shorts, grounding his bulge into her front. She mewls at the delicious friction as a flame kindles at her core and she pulls away, chest heaving with the weight of her breaths. 

 Leon watches through the viewfinder of the camera as she sinks to her knees before him, fingers hooking over the hem of his sweats. His entire body reacts when his cock springs free from his boxers as they, along with his pants, pool at his ankles. He watches through the little fold-out screen as she blinks up at him, as if she’s a saint, as if she’s nothing short of innocent. 

 She has to know what she’s doing. Leon still remembers that day a few months back in the batting cage, remembers the nervous, stuttering mess of a girl she was then. 

 It was back when she was just a silly girl with a silly little crush— she didn’t ever truly expect anything to come from it. She’d had little to no experience with sex or relationships for that matter, so she learned to keep her fantasies private, her feelings locked away inside a vault. 

 Or so she thought. 

 Until Leon stopped her after chemistry one day to ask for help. Everyone knew she was top of the class, and he’d seen the way she looked at him, sneaking glances when she thought he wouldn’t notice. But to find that she’d been writing his name in the very notebook she lent him?

 He knew he had to have her. 

 And now he does, and now he’s got her on her knees before him, fist wrapped around his cock with a camera practically in her face. It was no secret that she’d changed over the course of the past few months they’d been together, and Leon took great pride in having done the honors of breaking the good girl. 

 Now she was his good girl, conditioned to suck cock like her life depended on it, and fuck, he could come just from that thought alone. 

“Fuck,” he mutters beneath his breath as he watches her lick a long stripe from his sack, up his length, all the way to his tip through the viewfinder. She stares at him— or rather, the camcorder— through her lashes, even as she parts her lips wide enough to take in just the head, the tip of her tongue circling around the slit at the top. Leon’s breath stutters in his chest and he gasps, a gravelly “oh” slipping from his lips.

“Spit on it for me,” he rasps and she complies, gathering saliva on the tip of her tongue, spewing it onto the head. Her fist pumps up and down, coating the entire length with her spit and it’s pornographic, the way Leon throws his head back with a moan. 

 “The whole thing?” She asks, absentmindedly pumping her fist from the base of his dick to just below the head, tilting her head and blinking up at him as if she wasn’t trying to wring his release out of him. He has to sink his teeth into his bottom lip to control himself, snaking his hand not holding the camera around to the back of her head, taking a fistful of her hair between his fingers. 

 “You’re a fuckin’ minx, you know that?” He practically growls and her lips curve against the head of his cock, just before she dips her chin. 

 “You love it,” she uses his own words against him and then her lips part to wrap around him and oh, he’s already overcome with bliss. He has to pray somewhere in the back of his mind that the camcorder is still focused on her because he lolls his head backwards, squeezing his eyelids closed as she slowly takes him into her mouth. 

 He can feel every inch of him being drawn between her lips, all the way until he feels his tip brush the back of her throat and he can feel the way it tightens around him. 

 A filthy, rather embarrassing noise sounds from her efforts and her cheeks warm but Leon doesn’t care, if anything, it only turns him on more. She lifts her head up until just the tip is in her mouth and Leon grants her this one moment to gasp for breath before he’s guiding her back down his length, panting as every single inch of his cock sheaths inside her throat. 

 “Fuck!” He groans, peering back down at her through the camcorder’s screen. He can see her hand raise to wrap around his base just below it and she squeezes, pumping while she swirls her tongue against his tip, bobbing her head up and down as much of the length as she can take. 

 “Shit, that’s it,” he groans, watching as she takes him deeper, her nose against the little, coarse hairs around his base. “Just like that, pretty girl.”

 She whines around him and comes up for air, lips glistening with spit, streams of tears spilling from over the side of her lids. She blinks back the water in her eyes as she gasps for breath and Leon, with his fingers still tangled in her hair, tug her back down into his cock. There’s a knot building in his sack that’s making him start to see white, his release so close he can practically taste it. 

 He almost loses himself in his bliss before he comes to his senses, pulling her mouth off of his cock by the grip in her hair, his cock twitching and slit crying with precum. He pants, cursing beneath his breath as she rocks back on her heels, a string of spit hanging from her bottom lip that she wipes away with the back of her hand. 

 It’s all so filthy and provocative yet so damn erotic. It seems fitting now that they were recording— this is exactly the type of shit you see in the porn videos. 

 She blinks up at him from her spot on the floor and he leans down, kissing her just so he can taste her, humming at the mixture of saliva and precum in her mouth. He pulls away, a bridge of spit stringing between their lips, and turns, stepping out of his boxers and sweats before walking towards his dresser. 

 She eyes him curiously, still panting as she watches him place the camcorder down on the top of his dresser, adjusting the position until he’s certain the lens faces the bed. Blood bites her cheeks and lava oozes at her apex as Leon makes his back towards her, tugging his shirt over his head during the journey. 

 “Off,” his voice drips with authority and he gestures with his chin towards her clothes. His shirt falls to the floor and he’s left naked, save for the silver chain that dangles just above his chest and she swallows at the sight before her, pressing her thighs together as she rises from her place on the ground. 

 Their gazes meet and lock as she grabs the bottom of her shirt— the one she always wears to his games that has his name and number on the back— and Leon greedily takes in the sight before him as she pulls the material over her head. Her denim shorts are the next to go and he, admittedly, watches her breasts over the top of her bra as she bends over to step out of her bottoms, tossing them aside. 

 She’s left in her underwear and her eyes boldly meet his once again, her lids heavy against them, a refulgent white flame in the backdrops of her pupils. Her hands reach around to her back to unclasp her bra and she watches as Leon eyes the way the straps slip down her shoulders, the length of her arms until her breasts are finally on full display. His breath hitches as the lace falls down to the floor and she hooks her fingers tauntingly around the hem of her panties, lifting it up and sliding her fingers back and forth of the expanse of them before at last, she pulls them down her legs until they’re both standing before each other, nude and burning like two stars in supernova. 

 She makes her way back towards Leon, wrapping her hands around the back of his head, drawing herself in until they were close, yet not close enough. 

 “What’s next?” She asks, a corner of her mouth curved in a smirk and Leon’s eyes narrow, the center of his stormy sea expanding until nearly his entire iris is veiled by shadow. 

 “You’ve had your fun,” he says before pushing her towards the bed. She lands with a huff on her stomach and her brows draw together as she peers at him from over her shoulder. “Now I wanna see you on all fours.”

 Again, her core aches at the mere fact of how dominant he is and she can feel her arousal as it drips down her slit as she complies, lifting herself up until she’s on her knees and elbows. It’s a rather embarrassing position, if not risqué, at the least. Knowing she’s being recorded in this position only further makes her skin burn, as well as it makes insides melt, hot magma oozing straight down to her center. 

 The bed dips behind her and she mewls as Leon’s palm slams down onto one side of her ass with a loud smack, the sting deliciously lingering on her flesh. The nearness of him behind her makes her bones rattle and spine erupt in shivers as he runs his palm up and down the expanse of her back. She can feel the head of his cock against her ass, teasing her, taunting her. 

 “Leon…” she whimpers, wiggling her hips backwards in hopes of some sort of friction. Another slap against the other side of her ass makes her body quake and she yelps, balling her fists against the sheets. She catches a glimpse of him over her shoulder as he takes his cock in one hand, slowly pumping up and down his length, a quiet curse slipping from his lips. 

 “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He purrs, reaching forward to trace the line of her jaw with his forefinger. He hunches over her body to press a soft kiss to the side of her mouth and she hums, feeling herself turn into a ball of malleable putty in the palm of his hands. 

 “Yeah?” She says and he chuckles softly, nodding, his nose against her cheek. “Yeah. So, so pretty,” he whispers and she hums again as he pulls away from her face, palm once again soothing over her back. His right hand rests on the left side of her ass and for a moment, it’s peaceful, for a moment, it’s quiet. 

 Then Leon bucks his hips forward and with one thrust, she’s full to the brim. Her lips part to make way for a loud gasp that fully permeates his bedroom and lingers, balling her fists so hard against the sheets, she could feel her nails digging into her palms. 

 “And so, so damn tempting,” he grunts as he pulls back his hips just to piston them back into her again. “A fuckin’ vixen is what you are.”

 Bolts of ecstasy half her ability to make words as Leon sets his pace, his thrusts hard, forceful and fast. It’s truly pornographic— again, making it all too fitting that they’re being recorded— the way he fucks her. He’s like an animal and all this energy has been pent up inside of him for so long, too long. You would have no idea he just played a nearly three hour long baseball game. 

 He’s on a high— from making the last out of the game to being so lucky to have a girl like her on his arm— and he’s pouring every single ounce of that energy into her, into each and every single one of his thrusts. She has to dig her nails into the sheets to keep her body from being driven too far up the bed away from him. 

 His hands find her hips and he uses them as leverage to fuck into her harder, deeper. The sound of their skin slapping together permeates the bedroom, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and her toes curl as the tip of his cock repeatedly hits that spongy spot deep inside of her deliciously. Over and over and over and over again does he find that spot and it’s sooner rather than later that she feels herself burning, that kindling that had once been a small flame at the pit of her belly now fully blossomed into a wildfire, wreaking havoc across her ovaries. 

 “Le… Lee… Leon!” She cries, feeling tears brim and sting the outline of her lids as he mutters curses underneath his breath, making it his sole mission to utterly destroy her with his cock. “Slow down or I’m gonna… I’m gonna…! Oh, fuck!”

 She hears him laugh behind her, bending over her body— all whilst maintaining his speed— to press a tender kiss to the center of her spine. 

 “That’s kind of the point,” he says against her back, lips curved into an impish grin against her skin. She can feel drool fall from her mouth down to her chin and she prays that the camcorder can’t pick this embarrassing detail up as she clenches around him, his dick having coaxed her so close to her peak. 

 Leon lifts away from her back and barks a curse when she tightens around him, his hips stuttering. “Gonna take me down with you, huh?” He growls, bucking his hips harder and harder and harder into her until she begins to crack like the shell of an egg, her orgasm spilling through the jagged lines like the yolk. 

 She succumbs to blinding white, hot bliss and she shudders, Leon leaning over her to wrap his arms around her waist as he, too, is overtaken by the sheer power of his release. “Leon!” She moans, either of their noises echoing off the four walls of his room and she hopes somewhere in the back of her mind that his roommate, Carlos, is not home to further be exposed to their coition. 

 Leon’s hips finally still and he simply holds her through either of their orgasms, his chest flush to her back. She can feel his dick twitch inside of her and she mewls, feeling his fingers brush through her hair, his lips finding her ear. 

 He presses a kiss to the shell before he whispers, “okay?”

 It’s hard to speak through her panting but she manages to nod, her eyelids feeling heavy as they fall over her eyes. “Okay,” she replies and she simply lays there on her stomach, Leon on her back. The room smells of sex and perspiration but at its core, it smells like Leon, like home. His warmth is like the fire in a hearth on a cold winter's day and she hums as fatigue washes over her, lulling her towards a temporary slumber. 

 Leon groans from behind her and she feels him lift off of the bed, albeit reluctantly. Her nose wrinkles in displeasure but she does not lift her head, does not even open her eyes. She’s simply too tired, but before she drifts away to sleep, she hears a string of curses being said beneath Leon’s breath. 

 “Shit, shit, shit! How the fuck do you turn this thing off?”

a/n; teehee i'm so happy so many of you enjoyed the first baseball player leon fic, so here's a treat! wrote this up while freezing my tits off in the bathtub 😘

📹 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the entire world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@chaoticevilbakugo

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@glovesandhorror

@angelstargel

@illsksm

@echo1200

@d3adp00ls

@woahhajime

@leonkennedygvrl

@elliewilliamshotwife

@altissia-09

@danigirls-missions

@cherrylipscrystalskies1

[nyc-looks]

Sarah, 26

“I hand-knitted my scarf and pants from my brand. Top by Tyler McGillivary she gave my last day there; jacket is from Hard-off in Japan. Roommate gifted kitten heels, best friend this purse. I cherish these gifts and my being able to make clothing for the people I love most in return. I’m very into sustainability and it inspires me to figure out different methods of conscious sourcing, limiting waste, and making unique slowly created one off pieces that people will want to take special care of.”

Apr 4, 2024 ∙ East Village

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

hey babes x breeding kink w mbappé? 😊😇

Baby

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Your husband wants a baby

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.5k

Warnings! NSFW! SMUT (18+), unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), breeding kink, dom!Kylian, sub!reader.

You could feel his gaze from across the room, boring into your skin as you desperately tried to focus on your conversation with Fayza but it was impossible.

Your husband is insatiable.

Ever since you told him you wanted to try for a baby, he's been sticking to you like glue. Following you around, not wanting you out of his sight, practically like a second skin.

You shift in your seat and wince a little, the soreness between your thighs a reminder of what happened just before you got here. "Are you alright?" Fayza asks, noticing your discomfort.

"Yeah, just a cramp. I'm fine." She stared at you for a second longer before accepting your explanation. But you know she knows. How could she not, with the way Kylian was practically undressing you with his eyes, from his spot on the couch.

Speak of the devil.

"Mom, I think it's time that Y/N and I go. It's getting late and I have training tomorrow." You feel his palm on your shoulder, hot and heavy. You feel his hands slide across your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, and you shudder.

Fayza frowns slightly, her lips pursing together in thought. "Alright dear, make sure Y/N rests her feet." She smiles at you both, before returning to her conversation with Ethan .

Kylian's hand tugs you to your feet, his touch burning hotter than a brand. You feel his hand slide down your arm and over your waist, until it comes to rest on your hip. You can feel his cock pressed up against your ass, already hard. He leans down to kiss you softly on the cheek, his breath dancing across your skin. "Shall we?" He purrs.

You nod, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you follow him out of the house. He guides you to the car and opens the door for you, his smile lighting up the night.

You feel a little flutter in your stomach, you love when he's like this. He always goes out of his way to be the best husband ever, especially since you've told him you want a baby.

He helps you into the car, before sliding behind the wheel.

"I had fun tonight," he says, glancing over at you as he reverses out of the driveway. "You are stunning. Je suis un sacré veinard." He smiles softly, and your heart melts.

"I had fun too," you say, reaching out to brush your fingers across his hand. His palm curls around yours and he squeezes lightly, wedding band catching the moonlight. "I'm lucky to have you too."

You lean over to kiss his cheek and he smiles softly at you, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. You feel him trace your jaw and move down your throat, until it comes to rest on the top of your collarbone. "You're perfect," he murmurs, his thumb running across the collar of your dress.

You whimper quietly, heat building in your core as you feel your pussy get wet. "I can't wait to get you home," he says, his voice low and rough. Your pussy clenches around nothing again, and you feel a rush of excitement at the promise in his voice.

The ride home is a blur. You can't focus on anything except for the way he keeps touching you. His hand moves up and down your thigh, occasionally dipping under your skirt to rub your inner thigh.

He's playing dirty tonight.

By the time he pulls into the driveway, you're panting, desperate for his touch. You hear the car door open and his hand is on your elbow, helping you out of the car.

His arms slide around your waist, pulling you against him as he kisses you. He's soft and sweet, but you know this won't last long. He'll be rough soon, he's been holding back for too long. Even though he had you a couple of hours ago.

His hand slides down to grip your ass and he lifts you, making you wrap your legs around his waist.

His lips never leave yours as he carries you into the house, his steps quick and determined. The moment the front door closes behind you, he presses you against it, his mouth devouring yours. You feel his tongue slide in your mouth, his fingers digging into your ass as he grinds against you.

He pulls away from you for a second, and you gasp for air, your heart pounding in your chest. He kisses you softly, his hands running over your body in a gentle exploration. "Mon trésor," he murmurs. "You're going to make such a good mom."

You melt a little more at his words, his praise always makes you feel good.

He smiles as you flush red, his hands sliding under your dress to cup your ass. He rubs your ass cheeks, before his hand dips between your legs and his fingers slide into your panties. "You're so wet," he groans, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it.

You gasp, your hips bucking against him. His fingers circle your clit, his palm pressing against you. "Oh fuck," he groans. "You're dripping."

"I need you," you gasp.

He growls and pulls his hand out from between your legs. "Take off your dress."

You nod, reaching behind yourself to pull the zipper down. You let the fabric fall to the floor and you stand before him in nothing but a pair of lacy red panties. You knew he would be like this. He has been for the past few weeks. Insatiable.

His eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of you. "You look delicious." He kisses you again, his hands cupping your breasts. He squeezes them lightly before his hands slide down your sides to your hips.

He kneels before you, pulling your panties off of you and throwing them behind him. You gasp, feeling the cool air on your sore wet pussy. He leans forward and kisses your mound, his hands cupping your ass as he pulls you forward to kiss you. "Kylian," you moan, your hands clawing at his shoulders. "Please."

He licks his lips, before running them over your pussy, licking and sucking on your clit. Your sensitivity has you crying out, knees trembling as you feel pleasure wash over you. His tongue dips inside of you and you feel him growl against you, the vibrations making you gasp. You feel him lick you slowly, before he pulls away and stands.

He kisses you hard, his hands sliding down your body to your upper thighs, gripping it and lifting you again. He carries you down the hall to your bedroom, before he gently throws you onto the bed.

He steps back and pulls off his clothes, his cock hard and thick. You lick your lips, feeling your pussy clench with anticipation. "Kylian," you gasp, holding out your arms for him. "Please."

He chuckles and walks over to you, leaning over the bed to kiss you. He lies down beside you and kisses you, his hands running over your body in a slow exploration. "I love you," he murmurs, his lips dancing over your jaw and down your neck.

"I love you," you moan, your hands sliding up his arms to wrap around his neck.

He kisses you again, his hands running over your breasts and stomach, before one slides between your legs and cups your pussy. "I can't believe you're mine," he murmurs, his fingers sliding inside of you. The coolness of his wedding band feels fucking amazing.

You moan, your hips bucking against his hand. "Please," you beg, "I need you."

He growls, lips trailing a line down your body. He kisses your stomach and you feel him smile against you. "mine to kiss," he says, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them. "Mine to taste." He leans forward and kisses you, his tongue sliding inside of you. "Mine to fuck."

You cry out, your hips bucking against him as you feel him lap at you. "Kylian!" You gasp, your pussy clenching around his tongue. "Please!"

He chuckles, his hands sliding up your thighs to spread them wider. He pulls away and looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "You taste so good," he groans, licking his lips. "I can't get enough of you." He kisses your mound, before he slides a finger inside of you. "I'm never letting you go."

You moan, your pussy clenching around his finger. Then he dives back in, his tongue circling your clit and making you cry out. He sucks on your clit and you feel a rush of pleasure wash over you. You gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Oh fuck," you cry out, your pussy clenching around him.

He groans, his fingers curling inside of you, his mouth still attached to your pussy. You feel him growl against you, his tongue fucking you. "Kylian!" You scream, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

He doesn't let up, his tongue lapping at you as he fingers you through your orgasm. He moans, his hands moving to your hips to pull you closer to him. He kisses your clit and you feel him smile against you. "Perfect." He murmurs, his lips moving up your body to kiss you.

He licks your cum off of his lips and you feel a rush of lust.

You pull him into you, kissing him hard and deep. You taste yourself on him and you feel another wave of pleasure roll over you. He pulls away from you, his eyes dark with lust. "Baby," you moan, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He grins, his hands sliding down your body to your hips. "You want it?" he growls.

"Yes," you gasp, feeling your pussy clench in anticipation. "Please."

You moan, your hips bucking against him.

He leans forward and kisses you, his cock nudging your entrance. You feel him press forward, his cock slowly filling you. It's pain, it's bliss. You're still a little sore from earlier but the stretch is incredible. "Oh god," you moan, your pussy clenching around him. "You feel so good."

He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts into you. "You're so tight," he murmurs, his hands moving to your ass. "I don't know how much longer I can hold back."

"Don't " you gasp, your hands sliding up his arms to grip his shoulders. "Don't hold back. Give it to me." And he does.

He groans, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. His lips trail across your neck and collarbone, leaving a path of heat. "Oh fuck, this fucking pussy." he gasps.

You feel yourself clenching around him, another orgasm building inside of you. "Kylian," you cry out, your legs trembling.

"Mine," he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic and you know you're not walking tomorrow. "This pussy is mine. You're mine."

"Yours," you moan, your orgasm crashing over you. Your pussy clenches around him, milking his cock. He moans, his fingers digging into your ass as he pounds you harder. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room, along with your moans. You wish you could feel shame at how wet you are, but you can't. He feels too good inside of you.

"Kylian!" you scream, your orgasm rolling over you.

"Putain," he groans, his thrusts becoming slower. "merde, such a tight little pussy." He grunts, his fingers digging into your thigh. "I can't wait to make you a mom." He growls, his hips slamming against you.

"Please," you moan, your pussy clenching around him. "Fill me. Please fill me."

He groans, his hips bucking against you as he thrusts hard into you. "You want my cum?" he taunts, his hands moving to your stomach to rub your skin. "You want my cum in that pretty pink pussy?"

"Yes," you moan, your pussy clenching around him. "Please. I need it. I need your cum in me."

His thrusts becoming harder. You feel him swell inside of you, his cock throbbing as he fucks you. "Yeah," he grunts. "I'm gonna fucking give it to you. My wife, my lover." He moans, his fingers digging into your stomach. "My future baby momma."

You moan, your pussy clenching around him as you feel him swell inside of you. "Holy shit!" you scream, your pussy clenching around him as his cum fills you. You feel it hit the back of your pussy, his cock pulsating inside of you as he cums. "Oh fuck!" you cry out, your pussy milking him for more. You feel his cum fill you up, and you know you're dripping with it.

He thrusts a few more times, neck straining as he empties himself into you. Then he stills, his head dropping forward to rest on your chest. "Mon amour," he murmurs, his breathing ragged. "Tu es parfaite."

You smile, running your hand over his hair. "Je t'aime." you murmur, your voice soft.

He smiles, his lips moving up to kiss you. He kisses you hard and deep, his hands moving to hold you against him. "I'm so glad I'm your husband " he murmurs, his voice soft. "You're all mine." He nuzzles into your neck and you feel him smile against you. "And now," he murmurs, his hands sliding down your body to cup your stomach. "both of you will be mine." His hands rub your skin, and you feel yourself melt.

The intensity of the moment lingers in the room, a mixture of passion and tenderness surrounding you both. Kylian's breath warms your skin as he nuzzles into your neck, his fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, and you let out a contented sigh.

"Are you happy?" he whispers, his voice soft and full of love.

You nod, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "I am," you say, your voice equally tender. "I couldn't ask for more."

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Because I want to give you everything."

The love in his eyes makes your heart flutter, and you reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. "You already have," you reply softly.

His cock is still hard inside of you, his cum dripping from your pussy. He rolls you over and you feel him settle between your legs again. "Kylian," you moan, his lips trailing a line up your neck. "I can't again." You gasp, your pussy clenching around him.

He chuckles, his lips moving down to your chest. "don't worry baby," he murmurs, his lips moving over your skin. "I'm just plugging you up. Wouldn't want any of my cum leaking out." He murmurs, his lips moving down to your stomach.

You stay like that for God knows how long, his cock filling you up as his some of his cum drips out of you. He holds you against him, his hands stroking your skin as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. His lips trail over your skin, his breath dancing across your neck and collarbone. You feel yourself relax, his touch melting into you like a second skin. "Je t'aime," he murmurs.

"Je t'aime aussi," you reply, your voice soft. "Forever." You murmur, your eyes drifting closed.

"Forever," he echoes, his voice soft. You feel his lips press against your skin, before everything goes black. And you're left with the hope of a baby growing inside of you. Your husband's seed growing in your belly, his child.

He follows with a smile on his face.

-Bianca🌻

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 5

part 1 | part 4

“…Henderson? Oh, holy shit, Henderson!!”

Eddie sounds like a kid on Christmas morning as he comes bounding across the street, movements like a great dane tripping over gangly limbs. He barrels into Dustin and tackles him in a great big hug, swings him off the ground in a circle and puts him back down so they can do some elaborate handshake with slaps and switchbacks and an ending tap-tap of their ankle bones.

What the fuck?

Steve watches this whole thing go down with his hands on his hips and his face doing something horribly sour because seriously what the actual fuck? Stupid handshakes with Henderson are his thing.

“What are you doing here, man?” Munson asks Dustin with a jovial pat on the back. Dustin’s squeezing him around the middle, tucked into his side like a little kid hugging a giant teddy bear, face just lit the fuck up with excitement over this. Steve feels his nostrils flare in a brief flash of petty rage.

“Steve!” he shouts happily. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re neighbors with Eddie?”

Eddie’s face falls when he looks up and sees Steve. Feeling’s mutual, dickwad.

“You’re here to see Harrington?” He asks in a voice like flat soda, all the earlier enthusiasm sucked out into the void. He takes a tiny step away from Dustin — just the smallest bit of distance, a subtle lightening of his touch against his shoulder — but Steve doesn’t miss the flicker of hurt that passes between Dustin’s brows. As if he needed another reason to hate this guy.

“Uh, yeah?” Dustin asks, confusion coloring his tone. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s your what?”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “He said I’m his brother.”

“Not my blood brother,” Dustin clarifies, and Eddie makes a little noise. “But yeah. He’s fucking awesome. And you’re fucking awesome—”

“Language?” Steve tries for Claudia’s sake, but Dustin’s on a roll now, getting louder and more exuberant as he starts talking with his hands.

“—And oh, holy shit, this is the best! Wait ‘til I tell Mike and Lucas about this. With you guys living so close, we can hang out all the time! And we won’t even have to make two bike rides!”

Dustin leans in to squeeze Eddie in another hug, so stoked he’s bouncing on his toes a little (so stoked he doesn’t even bother to ask Eddie if it’s cool if the whole party shows up at his door, but that’s Dusty for you). His face is turned into the front of Eddie’s shirt, and over the top of his baseball cap Eddie gives Steve this look that Steve’s pretty sure he returns. Serious. Somber. Resigned. A fucking gallows stare, because…

Because fuck. Fucking- goddammit.

They’re gonna have to pretend to tolerate each other now. For Dustin.

Steve’s left eye starts to twitch.

—

“Are you selling him drugs?”

“Excuse the fuck outta you??”

Okay. Yeah. Bad start. Backtrack. Steve knows this is not the right way to approach a conversation, especially not when it’s Saturday night and you just interrupted your neighbor’s house party to be an accusatory dick to him. The Munson trailer door is wide open behind Eddie, and Steve can see a couple guys he vaguely recognizes from school sitting in the living room — a chubby white dude, a nerdy black guy, and a baby-faced kid with a scowl to rival Mike’s. They’re eating pizza and smoking cigarettes and sipping some cheap-ass brand of beer, and Steve is clearly interrupting.

“Sorry,” he tries again.

“Wow,” Eddie smirks. “Didn’t know you knew that word.”

“Shut up, man- just— ugh.” He takes a deep breath, wills himself to stop rolling his eyes at the guy he needs to ask a favor. “I’m sorry, okay? Can I just talk to you for a second?”

Eddie considers him for a moment; chin tilted up, lips pursed; and then he steps onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. “I’m listening,” he murmurs around a fresh cigarette, hand cupped around the end to light it.

He holds the pack out to Steve. “You want one?”

“Do I- what?”

Eddie shakes the box for emphasis. “Do you want one?”

“No, I heard you, I just…” The weird ceasefire between them is tripping him the hell up. He doesn’t think it’ll go too well if he says that out loud, though. “…Yeah. Fuck it. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

They smoke in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, looking out into the dark of the woods that kind of freak Steve out if he lets himself look too long. Something about the branches like long, spindly fingers in the dark; like jittering spider legs; like a Mindflayer made of—

“You wanted to ask me something?”

Steve rubs his brow with his thumb, lets the panic out on a slow breath. “Yeah, I just… Look, I’m not trying to— I mean, I shouldn’t accuse you of anything, man. I just spent the afternoon getting myself all worked up thinking about it after he left, and- and Claudia needs me to look out for the kid, so—”

“Who the hell is Claudia?”

Steve tilts his head at him. “Dustin’s mom?”

“Oh.”

“I thought you two were close.”

Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing around his shoulders, “Nah, man, not yet really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the little guy’s cool and all — smart as shit, too—”

“Isn’t he?”

“Fucking genius. He’s gonna cure cancer or some shit, I swear.”

Steve catches himself smiling; hides it behind another quick puff of smoke.

“Anyway,” Eddie says, “I don’t really, like, know the dude. We just met because I run Hellfire.”

Oh. “The DnD club?” No wonder Dusty’s obsessed.

Eddie shoots him a look, a quick blink of pleasant surprise. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Cool. He loves that game.” Steve pulls in more smoke, takes his time on the exhale; lets the nicotine buzz swim in his veins. He forgot how nice it feels. “So yeah, Claudia— his mom—asked me to look out for him, y’know? And I just, I know you used to supply the weed for my house parties and shit— and it was good quality shit and all but I don’t—”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, snorting a little in disbelief. “You think I’m gonna sell weed to Dustin?”

Huh. “You wouldn’t?”

“Hell no! One, he’s way too young; that shit’s, like, bad for young minds or something, allegedly.”

Steve frowns to himself, thinking back to him and Tommy smoking weed in Tommy’s basement in middle school; the brain damage they probably gave themselves doing it. Whoops.

“Secondly, can he even smoke? I thought he was sick or something.”

“What? Why would you think he’s sick?” Oh, shit, is he sick? Does Steve not know about it because he missed all those family dinners?

“Dude, take a breath.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand, wafting smoke in pretty tendrils under the trailer’s flood light. “I just meant, like, chronically. ‘Cause of his bones and shit?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, relieved. “Oh, yeah, no, he’s fine, he’s just like missing collarbones and stuff; he can bend like Gumby.”

Eddie laughs at that, dimple popping out, and Steve can’t help but laugh a little, too, remembering the last time he told someone that. “Don’t tell him I said that, though, he’ll get pissed.”

“Scout’s honor,” Eddie salutes.

“You a boy scout, Munson?”

“Nah, Harrington. Just figured you were.” His eyes are bright and playful, sort of magnetic as he drops the last of his cigarette and stubs it out with the toe of his boot. “Anyway, I gotta get back to the boys. You wanna stick around for a beer, or are you satisfied with my answer, Nanny Steve?”

“Okay, do not fuckin’ call me that,” Steve laughs, sharp and short. Tries to season the words with a glare, but Eddie’s face is too impish and pleased to hold on to any real anger. “And I appreciate the offer, but I think your friends would try to kill me.”

“Mm, yeah,” Eddie agrees, wiggling his fingers as he waves a hand to gesture at the whole of Steve. “Gareth is not exactly a fan of your kind.”

Aaand he’s pissed again. Jesus Christ. “My kind?”

“Yeah. Jocks? Rich assholes?” His lips tip up in a crooked smirk, “Or, well—”

“Don’t.”

Steve’s just done with his stupid jokes suddenly, and Eddie must hear how much he means it because he raises his palms in surrender and steps back. Always stepping back and away, this guy. Fucking coward.

Steve doesn’t know why he reacts like this, but the shame is turning to fiery fury in his gut, curdling his blood like sour milk, pricking hot at his lash line. Damn it; he’s not about to let Eddie Munson of all people see him cry.

He scoffs at himself, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Whatever, man,” he sniffs as he turns his back on him, “Enjoy your party. Screw you.”

—

The most pathetic part, Steve thinks to himself as he writhes and twists in his tangled, sweaty sheets; 2am and he’s up again after a nightmare because of fucking course he is; is that somewhere between the insomnia and guilt over the way their conversation imploded earlier, his staring-blindly-at-the-ceiling-until-his-eyeballs-start-to-burn morphs into, like, daydreaming about how it could have gone.

He keeps repeating the scene in his mind, rewinding the tape to let it play out in richer detail.

It goes like this:

1. Eddie comes over.

2. Eddie comes over and apologizes.

3. Eddie comes over in the middle of the night to apologize because he’s so, so sorry that he just can’t wait until morning, even though it wasn’t really his fault; no, Steve’s the sorry one; no, Eddie is; no, they’ll both agree to do better, for the kids.

4. It’s two in the morning, after the cars are all gone and the party’s died down, and Eddie comes quietly across the yard; taps gently on Steve’s window so he doesn’t wake his mom.

Steve leans out and snaps, “What?” because he’s still a little pissed, and Eddie makes big, contrite eyes and plays with his own hands; fingers dancing in nervous circles; spinning rings.

“Listen, I, uh—” Eddie begins, “I might have… Shit, man, I might’ve been a bit of a massive dick earlier, and seeing as we have to play nice on account of the kiddos, I— do you- I mean— come have another smoke with me? Please.”

Please.

Please.

Please.

It’s a pleasant dream. Steve rewinds again, lets it play out in his head for a few more loops. Falls asleep just as he’s getting the dialogue right.

When he wakes up, Munson’s van is gone.

They don’t talk again for weeks.

—

part 6

tag list got absolutely outta hand lmao and i can’t tag some of y’all bc of your privacy settings, so sorry if i didn’t tag you but here ya go i did my best 🩷 follow the tag #trailer park steve au for future parts. @steves-strapcollection @discorporatedmess @questionablequeeries @nburkhardt @disrespectedgoatman @a-little-unsteddie @thedragonsaunt @ledleaf @perseus-notjackson @devondespresso @loop-deloo @annabanannabeth @thewyvernkore @callas-shitshow @sentry-nest @aliea82 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @steddie-as-they-go @insominaticthoughts @lofaewrites @crazyhatlady86 @gothwifehotchner @potent-idiocy @discount-izukumidoriya @hbyrde36 @goldensnitchbcs @mightbeasleep @lawrencebshoggoth @beckkthewreck @silversnaffles @dawners @hellion-child @stray-bi-kids @iswearitsjustme @ilovecupcakesandtea @slowandsteddie @gaysonthefloor @pennyplainknits

[confidential-couture]

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[huhniebowl]

Tomato Paste

dominic fike x reader

warning(s): nonee! well…he has an eyebrow piercing. again. it’s just gonna be canon for my fics now lmao

a/n: this is so cute, i loved writing and working on this omg. it was a little embarrassing to write i won’t lie, but here we are lmao.

i really am a slow writer, so i apologize for being so slow with your requests😭

i hope you love this, thank you for requesting! <3

¥

"20 minutes, tops," You declare with your pointer finger, grabbing your purse and heading for the door.

"Can’t believe you forgot the tomato paste.” You mutter, slipping into your shoes, “Was probably starting at tits or something.”

Dominic raises an eyebrow, eyes lingering on your white tank top that’s tightly clinging to your body.

"Yeah, yours." He teases, locking his phone and winking at your boobs.

You gasp, clutching your shirt dramatically. "Fucking perv."

Dom pulls off his hoodie and tosses it over to you.

“20 minutes!” He reiterates. “I didn’t forget about that oat milk trip. We were there for damn near a decade.”

You laugh, that store trip was a disaster. You couldn’t decide on what brand was better. You ended up getting none of them and Dom was shivering by the time you left because he lended you his sweatshirt while in the dairy section.

“Yeah, yeah!” You call back, tugging on his hoodie.

“It’s just tomato paste. I got this baby. Trust me.” You wink, snag his keys from the key bowl, and blow him a kiss before slamming the door behind you.

Your relationship is still new, blossoming beautifully at the five-month mark.

Every visit felt weightless, a comfortable ease settling between you. He has a worn green mug by the sink, its familiar chipped rim and, coffee stains a silent welcome every morning.

In your top drawer, boxers and a pair of his mismatched socks, faded blue with cartoon ninja turtles, peeks out from your panties.

And tucked in your living room bookshelf, a framed photo of the two of you at the beach when he officially asked to be your boyfriend.

He’s easily made himself at home.

You agreed to tell your parents about each other once you reached half a year. It was your idea, believing that you and Dominic would be well past the honeymoon phase by then.

Which was proved true by month four.

Dominic digs through the fridge and pulls out a bowl of fresh fruit you had washed and cut up earlier.

With a bottle of water tucked into his sweatpants pocket, he plops down on the living room couch, opens up Netflix, and starts an episode of Supernatural.

Despite knowing you’re gone, he still glances at the front door. He knows he shouldn’t be watching this without you, but the last episode you left off on was too good of a cliffhanger.

He’s about halfway through the show when an insistent jiggling of the front doorknob echos through the house.

Sam and Dean’s fight starts to blur as panic floods Dominic's vision. No way you were back already – He knows you said twenty minutes, but he didn’t think you were serious!

His palms are slick, the remote slipping and sliding in his cold sweat.

A frantic scramble, a muted click – Sam and Dean vanish. Throwing the remote, Dom snatches his phone, adopts a posture of casual indifference, and opens a random app.

The door creaks open, a sound that scrapes against his already frayed nerves.

"Hey babe," He manages, attempting nonchalance. Silence answers him.

Then his phone vibrates with a text.

You MY PARENTS R COMING TO THE HOUSE THEY HUNG UP BEFORE I COULD MENTION U kjhasjhdf IM SO SORRY I’m hurrying home now omg

His eyes scan the frantic message. A torrent of misspelled words tumbled across the screen, punctuated by a desperate string of emojis that only you would send.

His heart, already doing a nervous stutter, plummets straight to his stomach. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not yet.

“Holy fucking,” Dominic starts under his breath, but he’s cut off by a voice that an tone lower than his will ever be.

“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?”

“Shit.” He finishes.

Dominic steels himself, taking a deep breath and rising to his feet. A charming smile, practiced a thousand times over, plasters itself onto his face as he turns around to face your parents.

The first thing that strikes him is the resemblance you have to your mother. You share her eyes and cheekbones, though hers were softened by time, their edges less sharp than yours. Age has been kind to her; she radiates a quiet beauty that makes Dominic clench his fists.

Not to hide his nervousness, but to sedate a far away thought - a vision of you, years down the line, etched with the same kind aging your mother was graced with, perhaps with children by your side, their eyes mirroring yours, but with his nose.

"Um, this isn't exactly how I pictured our first meeting," Dominic begins, his voice a touch higher than usual. He clears his throat, the nervous chuckle a hollow sound.

"I'm Dominic. Dominic Fike. I've, uh, been dating your daughter for the past five months and a half."

He addresses them formally, and by your last name, extending a hand for a handshake. Their expressions are unreadable at the mention of his name, a blank canvas that sends a jolt of relief through him.

The last thing he needed was for them to recognize him from some outrageous thing he’s said on the internet. A shiver runs down his spine, a phantom memory of his last concert ramble.

How he hasn’t launched into a word vomit, or worse, blacked out entirely, is a mystery. Dealing with fame has its drawbacks - the unpredictable interviews he loathes, the constant fan interactions.

None, however, have ever felt this paralyzing.

His heart pounds frantically in his ears as your dad gives him a thorough once-over. It's narrows on his chest, lingers on his arms. He’s confused at the interest of his body, then his confusion morphs into a sickening realization.

He’s fucking shirtless.

"Fuck," He mutters under his breath.

Your dad's eyebrows shoot up. He eyes your boyfriend as if he just declared his love for a rival sports team.

"Excuse me, son?" Dominic winces. A cold sweat prickles his skin. He flinches back and yanks his outstretched hand like he’s been burned. He throws a desperate glance at your mom, silently begging for her help.

She's been quiet the whole time. But when she meets Dominic's eyes, a small smile graces her lips. She rests a calming hand on your dad's shoulder.

"Why don't you go freshen up," She suggests, voice soft. "Maybe put on a shirt, and then we’ll go from there.”

Dominic nods vigorously.

"Yes ma’am of course, good call. So so sorry." He practically sprints towards your room, throwing another mumbled apology over his shoulder.

"Did you see the face tats? The Xs on his eyelids? That damn eyebrow piercing?" He hears your dad whisper yell to your mom.

Dominic closes your bedroom door shut, finally allowing himself to exhale the breath he didn't know he was holding.

He leans against the door, head tilted back in defeat, when another horrifying thought hits him.

It's laundry day.

And before you left, you'd tossed the first load in the washer. The load that, of course, included all the clothes he's left at your place. The hoodie he gave you before you left was the last clean thing he had.

"This can't be happening," He whispers, dragging a hand down his face. He stumbles over to the closet and flicks on the light. Panic clouds his judgment. Scanning your clothes, he snatches the first thing he sees folded on the top shelf.

Your baby pink sweatshirt.

He's just pulling it on when he hears the front door open again. Your voice, laced with slight urgency, filters through.

He lets out a deep breath, not bothering to check his reflection, and jogs out of the room.

He rounds the corner and sees you. Relief washes over him, momentarily melting his anxiety. You turn from your parents at the sound of his footsteps, about to launch into an apology, but the words die on your lips.

The moment he's close enough, Dominic practically throws himself at you, burying his face in your neck. He doesn't care that your parents are watching. He was just short of possibly passing out, and all he craves is the comfort you always seem to radiate.

You understand instantly, and glare at your parents over his shoulder.

Your arms tighten around Dominic's lower back as you stroke his hair with a comforting hand. You feel him relax against you, and turn your face to plant a soft kiss on his head.

"You okay?" You murmur against his hair.

Dominic manages a small nod, but he doesn't stay wrapped in you for as long as he'd like. Steeling himself, for the umpteenth time today, he straightens up, and faces your parents.

With a newfound confidence blooming in his chest with you by his side, he clears his throat.

“I really apologize for earlier. I wasn’t expecting to meet you both so soon.” He reaches out for your hand. His voice holds a hint of nervousness, but he sounds sure of himself now.

“I love your daughter very much and go above and beyond to make sure she knows that.” He continues, his gaze flickers between your parents. "I hope in time you both will see that."

You beam with pride at your boyfriend's attempt to win over your folks. Your dad, however, remains unconvinced, a furrow etched between his brows. Your mom, on the other hand, wears a blinding smile.

An awkward silence stretches, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of a wall clock. Finally, your mom swats the back of your dad's head. He yelps, bewildered, before his eyes dart between you and your mom. Throwing his hands up, he finally speaks up,

"There’s still much to unpack here. And frankly, those tats and piercings are ridiculous." Dominic shrugs and nods - rubbing the back of his neck.

"But," Your dad breathes, a hint of a begrudging smile playing on his lips, "You seem to have won my daughter over. And since she's basically a carbon copy of me, I trust her judgment."

You and your mom roll your eyes.

Your dad’s eyes then drop to Dominic's sweatshirt. His right eyebrow shoots up as he grumbles something under his breath, then shakes his head in defeat before stalking off towards the kitchen.

You glance down at your boyfriends long sleeve, your eyes widening in realization. Your hand flys to cover your mouth.

Your mom watches your dad go, a hint of amusement in her eyes. She then turns to Dominic, a warm smile still gracing her lips.

"Welcome to the family, hun," She says, squeezing his arm. The gesture sends pure relief through him. He manages to smile back.

"Thank you," He squeezes her hand back, voice genuine. "Happy to be here."

Your mom nods curtly and follows after your dad into the kitchen. The moment she's out of earshot, you drop your hand and let out a loud, unrestrained laugh. Dominic gives you a look, assuming it was fueled by his earlier distress.

"Maybe pay a little more attention next time you raid my closet," You wheeze, doubling over as you lean on his shoulder for support.

That's when it hits him. He remembers your dad's gaze at his shirt. He looks down in haste.

Stitched in bright pink threading and surrounded by a ridiculous amount of hearts and sparkles were the words: "FIKE'S BABYDOLL."

"Oh come the fuck on," He groans.

What the hell even was this last hour.

He glances down at you, now sprawled on the floor, tears wetting your face from laughter. The sound is infectious, and before he can help it, a smile spreads across his face.

“Yeah okay, did you get the tomato paste atleast?”

You stop laughing.

[dreamgrlarchive]

My Collection of Beauty Standard Inspo 💗

#PrettyHeiressDiaries

video vixens ❤︎︎

video vixens are the quintessential sexy girl that you either wanted to be or wanted to get. they’re almost always hyper girly and there’s a natural beauty to them that’s less prominent as of late. they ooze effortless sex appeal. not to mention the mystery they held. i mean they literally were just there to look good, be pursued, and look good some more. they weren’t talking, let alone telling their business.

thin brows

frosty lip gloss

jet black or honey blonde long hair

millennium/logomania designer pieces

very blingy detailz

revealing cuts + sexy silhouettes

vintage glam black women ❤︎︎

appearing effortlessly beautiful while giving high maintenance class. these women are EXPEN$IVE! striking personalities and body language that commanded respect and attracted the best treatments only. a very overt glamorous brand of femininity.

voluminous hair and curls

opulent accessories

fur coats + shawls

metallic, shimmery eyes

pendant jewelry

ultrafeminine bougie women ❤︎︎

women like kimora lee simmons, mariah carey, and nicki minaj (and fictional characters like hilary banks, dionne davenport and toni childs) all carry themselves with a super girly aura. they don’t mind the “diva” or “gold digger” label; embrace it even. they love pink and being the most sparkly in the room and are often very successful and headstrong!

pink, pink, pink

tweed, tartan, + plaid

natural glam makeup

silk presses and sew ins

blouses + skirts

crop tops, tube tops, + turtlenecks

iconic early 90s supermodels ❤︎︎

the golden age of fashion. these women walked in the most influential fashion shows for me; chanel ss95, chanel fw92, azzedine alaia fw91, versace 92, lanvin a/w 91. the epitome of untouchable glamour. the circle of the most beautiful, most hardworking women ever.

silk, tulle, chiffon

statement pieces

designer purses

houndstooth and cheetah prints

form-fitting silhouettes

an amazing strut

[vecnuthy]

decode

@steddiemicrofic June prompt: stuff || wc: 483 || G || established relationship, moving in together, language, Eddie being chaotic

Confused, Steve grabbed the keys he'd just set down, and -- yep, right apartment number.

When Steve had left their brand new apartment that morning, he'd known that Eddie and Wayne would be relocating their things from point A(ll yours now, Wayne!) to point B(abe, this is ours. Ours.), but Steve didn't realize--

"Eddie?"

The apartment had been completely empty that morning when he'd left for work, the mattress that Steve had tied to the top of his Bimmer ("I'm not sleeping on the floor.") and yesterday's clothes being the only things left behind. Now, however, Steve wondered if there had been some kind of mistake with a hypothetical delivery service that he knew Eddie and Wayne definitely did not hire, because there were mountains of boxes in front of him. Towers. A miniature King Kong would have a field day in this apartment, and Steve could only stare, overwhelmed by the amount of....everything.

Until, finally, a familiar head of hair popped out from behind one of the towers.

"Eddie, is this really-?"

And then Steve's face fell, lips pursed at the sight of his boyfriend, blissfully oblivious to Steve's presence, absolutely jamming to the music blaring from the headphones clamped over his ears. Steve bit back a laugh at the guitar solo that Eddie vocally mimicked with his eyes closed as his air guitar got downright shredded.

Eddie bumped into a stack of boxes, then paused, hands held out placatingly to the swaying stack, and said, "Excuse me," before he went back to wailing along with the guitar in his head.

Steve could have taken him right then and there.

He settled for a light touch to get his attention, since it was obvious that Eddie would otherwise remain oblivious to Steve's presence, but when Steve touched his arm, Eddie's eyes flew open and the guitar wail turned into a banshee shriek, his arms flailing wildly as he fell back and into a tower of boxes in surprise. Steve tried to grab him, but it was no use. He followed Eddie to the ground, and the boxes crashed next to them.

"Jesus fucking CHRIST," Eddie cried, starfished on the floor, his chest heaving under Steve's hold. "Damn, Steve, you scared the shit out of me. I think I just lost five years of my life."

"I'm sorry," Steve couldn't help but laugh.

Eddie, winded, grinned back then winced and turned toward the toppled boxes next to them. "Hope those didn't have records in them."

Steve frowned at words scrawled on the toppled box. "It says The Prancing Pony?"

Eddie relaxed. "Sheets and stuff."

Steve's confusion only grew when he saw other names across the other boxes, until he landed on one that said Rivendell.

He knew that name.

"Why is Rivendell on that one?"

"That, my liege, houses aaall of your hair care stuff," Eddie smirked.

"....Eddie, no."

Eddie grinned wider and winked.

[frederickkittens]

Sweet Lolita through the years

Part 1: Late 90s-2005 (ish) “Oldschool”

Oldschool sweet is the first truly recognizable form of sweet Lolita

Though during the Oldschool era the substyles had far more crossover and less individual traits I think there’s just enough that you still label coords from the time. When most people think of Oldschool they think of a solid color main piece with lace topped otks and a rectangle headdress… but Oldschool is so much more than that.

Oldschool in general was simpler, though some brands like Metamorphose Temps De Fille , Emily Temple Cute, and baby the stars shine bright were already making prints

Printed fabrics of fruits or florals were very common, but you did see a good amount of screen printed and appliquéd pieces coming out at the time too. Some very common sweet motifs in the oldschool era were:

•cats

•fruit

•alice in wonderland

•bunnies / rabbits

•bears

•alphabet / letter prints

•music notes

•hearts

The closer to the end of the identifiable oldschool era the more prints became popular! Though through most of the 2000’s prints would remain more minimal with the focus being on more structural elements like lace, bows, construction, and interesting fabric choices.

Due to the image limit on tumblr here’s a link to the correct sorting to see examples on lolibrary with examples of some early sweet prints and patterns. If you click the link on any of these items you’ll be able to view their lolibrary entries as well if available

Color balance wasn’t considered as highly as it is today, the overall vibe of Coords was more chaotic and experimental. A very make do attitude can be seen in many street snaps.

Patterned main pieces were another popular alternative to prints, things like gingham, stripes, tartan/plaid.

Bag choices were pretty varied, honestly in a lot of oldschool sweet coords people would use unique bags as the visual interest / focal point. You can already see that in someone of the coords above. Faux leather shaped bags like btssb’s heart bags weren’t very common yet. A few brands had put out heart bags, such as milk, but they were much simpler and often real leather in limited colors. You also didn’t see usakumyas in their modern iteration until well into the 2000’s towards the 2010’s. Plush bags of the era did not have the same clean marketable look. Some common / popular bags were:

-basket / wicker purses

-plush animal bags

-tote bags

-matching fabric bags

-leather handbags

-designer handbags

Shoes at the time were much chunkier and much less cutesy even in sweet styles. Tea parties didn’t exist until a good deal past this time period- honestly most popular modern Lolita shoe styles weren’t really seen. Real leather was far more common, in a much more limited pallet. When you did see colored shoes they typically weren’t used to color balance a coord like we do now a days. A lot of different styles were worn though, including:

-Mary Jane’s

-Platforms

-Rocking horse shoes

-Boots

-Oxfords

-sandals

Socks are often overlooked in oldschool. I’ve seen so many people say printed socks weren’t worn even though they absolutely were and many brands made them. Sure, lace topped otks were the trend and the most popular option but simple motif printed socks absolutely existed and were worn!

Headpieces were one of the most varied category. So many different styles and kinds were worn.

-mini crowns

-hair ribbons

-hats

-bows

-canotiers

-mini hats

-lace headdresses

Jewelry / Accessories were one area that Oldschool definitely was simpler. However brands were absolutely making both jewelry and other accessories. Plain metal necklaces with various motifs were common, lace chokers, faux collars, capes, ties, and though extremely uncommon you do sometimes run across wrist cuffs. Hopefully there’s more of an effort to start documenting jewelry and accessories from this time since it’s quite lacking

Makeup and hair were something that like all eras of Lolita followed the over all cultural trends of the time. More minimal make or simple 90’s - early 2000’s makeup is seen often. As for hair there’s so many different styles that really it would be impossible to list them all. In older magazines there’s often sections with hair tutorials and makeup tutorials!

Common lace styles included Torchon, Cotton, Eyelet, and Raschel. Many different trims and such were used in addition to these.

Part 2 and part 3

Scan credits @obscuredesireofbourgeoisie

If you want to see more old magazine scans

Lolita history

Internet archive