#blue satin gloves

[devdas5z]

Elif Aksu

[zoesrepository]

Laken Romine

[janicep02316]

She looks really happy wearing her opera gloves!

[ai-satin-chic]

How does this go again?

[thewildbelladonna]

Rock a Little Tour, 1986.

[captorcorp]

before i go to bed uhh cosplay followers. how do you choose fabric types for things <- is struggling

i have been staring at the nintendo hd textures trying to reverse engineer what to make the hood and tunic (for the body) out of that will look normal with the cape i already made. and failing

[evansbby]

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sugar daddy!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sugar daddy Ari, age gap, smutt, daddy!kink, ab riding, dirty talk.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your sugar daddy decides to dress you up in a costume of his choice for Halloween.

𝐀/𝐍: Random spontaneous Halloween "drabble" that is 3.8k words long lol. Inspired by the hottest daddy of them all, Ari Levinson, and his gorgeous abs. Hence the gif. Enjoy! And Happy Halloween, despite the fact that this drabble is not spooky at all.

“Twirl for me again, princess.”

Ari leans back against the headboard of his king-sized bed, his blue eyes dark as navy as he brings his glass of scotch up to his lips and takes a sip. His gaze is stuck on you as he lounges relaxedly, still dressed in his suit from work. Well, you’d taken his jacket off and loosened his tie for him before he’d patted you on your bum and sent you to your dressing room to try on the new costume he’d got for you.

You’d only been seeing Ari for two months. And by “seeing” you meant you’d only been his sugar baby for about two months, when you’d met him at the cocktail bar where you worked as a waitress. He’d come by one night with a bunch of his colleagues (all of them in expensive suits, clearly extremely wealthy). That notion had been confirmed when he’d pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into your hand at the end of the night, his eyes looking at you expectantly as if he knew you’d give him your number.

You had, of course. What followed was two months filled with expensive gifts, a hefty weekly allowance, a new designer wardrobe, glittering jewels and some incredible sex to top it all off. You’d gotten to know Ari in many different ways these past sixty days. But what you didn’t know he was so big on Halloween.

Your “costume” was for Ari’s eyes only, as he’d warningly told you when he’d handed you the shopping bag. And there was no way you could’ve worn it anywhere else: the baby pink satin negligee barely reached mid-thigh, but it was so breathtakingly pretty, so dainty with the lacy white trim and matching satin white gloves. The back was almost completely exposed, showcasing the pretty pink lace panties you had on underneath (with a heart-shaped cut-out that exposed your bum). A sparkly tiara on your head completed the look.

He'd dressed you as his little princess.

“How come you don’t have a costume, Ari?” You ask as you twirl around for him slowly, trying not to topple over in the expensive white pumps he’d also made you wear.

Ari licks his lips, beckoning you closer with just a look. He’d trained you well in the two months he’d had you, moulding you into his perfect angel who leapt at his slightest command. It was easy, since you were so cute and innocent, and so happy to please him. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you’d jump to obey him. He watches you closely now, looking so precious and hot in your little princess costume (or lingerie, rather) and your lips part as you eagerly move closer to him, almost tripping in your heels to do so.

He chuckles, “I’m too old to be dressing up for Halloween, sweetheart.”

You pout, “You’re not old, Ari! You’re just perfect!”

He can’t help but smile at your cuteness and naivety; he really had plucked up the prettiest and most innocent little girl with a heart of pure gold.

“That’s real sweet of you, baby. Now turn around and bend over for me so I can see that cute baby ass.” He takes another sip of his scotch. You’d made him his favourite drink the moment he’d walked into his penthouse apartment where you’d been waiting for him like the delectable little treat you were – sweeter than any Halloween candy, and he could ravage you forever without ever feeling sick.

You giggle, feeling slightly rebellious. You’d had a few sips of wine before he’d come home, your anticipations running high whilst you waited impatiently for him. He was like a drug to you, with his rugged good looks and muscular body and charming smile. You were also incredibly attracted to the power he wielded; Ari owned and was the CEO of multiple companies across the globe, and for the life of you, you couldn’t imagine how he’d ever decided to ask for your number that one fateful night two months ago.

“But Ari, since I’m a princess tonight, that means I’m royalty. Which means I don’t have to follow anyone’s orders but my own, right?” You smile triumphantly.

Ari looks infinitely amused as he runs his hand through his unruly hair, his other hand inching down to palm his clothed crotch.

“Little princesses like you still have to take orders from their daddy,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you teeter in your high heels. “Which, by the way, is what you should be addressing me as. You call me Ari one more time and I’ll take you over my knee. I don’t care if it’s Halloween.”

You pout harder, looking so extra cute that Ari has to pace himself from reaching over and grabbing you right then and there. He’s waited to dress you up in this costume for a while now, though, and he knows he needs to savour it.

“That’s a good little princess,” he murmurs in approval once you turn around and bend over, giving him the perfect view of your cute ass. “Look at those pretty little princess panties, hugging that cute baby ass. You like your panties, baby?”

“Y-Yeah,” you pant, and he knows you’re turned on by his words. “Thank you, daddy, I really like them.”

“You like being my little princess?”

“Yes, daddy. Wanna be your princess forever.”

Ari can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are, and when you say things like that, he just wants to gather you in his arms and plant a thousand kisses to your face, cuddle with you and buy you whatever you please. But he has to keep a strong resolve tonight, because he’s been waiting for an opportunity to ravage you in your princess costume for ages now, and he’s been working overtime at the office and he knows he deserves this.

“Daddy? Can I stop bending over now? It’s startin’ to hurt.”

Ari swirls his glass of scotch around absentmindedly, a wicked look crossing his face, “Soon, baby. First, I want you to spank yourself.”

You gasp, and then there’s a pause.

“M-Me? Spank myself?”

“You heard me, baby. I won’t repeat myself.”

You reach back gingerly, squeezing your eyes shut because you’ve got your back to him and you know he can’t see (usually, he always demands you keep your eyes open). You give your behind a tentative little slap, feeling embarrassed to say the least.

“Harder, sweetheart. How can you be a princess if you don’t have a firm hand?” You can hear the smugness in his voice, and it just turns you on more. You know your new princess panties are soaked through, and you wonder if he can tell.

“B-But I don’t wanna have a firm hand,” you whimper, already feeling very submissive. You like it when he spanks you (although it hurts but it hurts so good). But you spanking yourself? It’s embarrassing. It turns you on because you’re doing it for him, but it’s still embarrassing.

“Are you talking back to me, baby?” Ari’s eyes are hooded with lust as he openly palms his dick.

“Sorry, daddy,” you bite your lip before giving your ass another slap – harder this time. And Ari exhales slowly as he watches your ass jiggle cutely, and he commands you to hit yourself again, to not stop until he says so. And he watches you spank yourself, turned on beyond belief at your complete submission.

“Fuck, you have such a cute ass, baby. Squeeze it for me.” He orders you, voice gruff and strained because of how horny he is.

You obey, squeezing the soft flesh through your barely-there panties. Ari’s fingers itch to touch you himself, make you mewl with pleasure just with his touch the way only he could. Because he’s the only one who’s ever touched you like that, who ever would touch you like that. You were his baby, his little princess and he’d take care of you forever.

“Stop. Now come here.”

You swallow, straightening up to walk over to him, except he stops you again by just a look.

“No, baby. On your knees. Daddy wants you to crawl.”

You decide to test your luck one last time, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, “But daddy, I’m supposed to be a princess and not a kitten. And princesses don’t crawl.”

Ari rolls his eyes, “You’ll do as I say. Baby princesses like you still need to obey their daddy because you’re not in charge, got that?”

“Y-Yeah, I got it.” You sink down to your knees and slink over to him, making sure to sway your hips as you crawl because you know he loves that. And you love how he looks at you darkly, his eyes so blown out with lust and want. As if he’s restraining himself from just grabbing you and fucking you. Because you know how virile he is, how high his sex drive is.

“That’s my good little girl,” he coos, making you feel all special. You stop at the foot of the bed and he reaches down, petting the top of your head, stroking your hair like you’re some kind of pet. Your sparkly tiara falls lopsided, but manages to stay on your head. But you like how he strokes you, you like how affectionate it feels, and so you nuzzle up into his palm, wanting him to stroke you some more.

Instead, he grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you up, manhandling you as if you’re his little baby, till he’s got you nestled on top of him, and you can feel his hard dick underneath you. A wicked look in his eye, he straightens your tiara before patting your cheek condescendingly.

“How’re you enjoying Halloween so far, princess?”

You mull over it, trying not to focus on his hard dick directly underneath your butt. “It’s nice. This is the first time in a few years that I’ve stayed in for Halloween, instead of going to a party.”

This was true, since being at college for the past two years meant that you always went out on Halloween.

“Oh yeah? You’d rather be at a frat party right now?” Ari’s hands land on your hips, grinding you down against his dick so that you’re effectively dry humping him. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, and you made grabby hands at him but he holds you at bay.

“No, no, no!” You answer desperately, trying to lean forward to kiss him but he holds you in place firmly, “Would much rather be with you, daddy. I love you so much.”

Ari can feel his heart melting fast. You’re just so delectable and cute, blinking up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours. And it had been so easy for you to fall in love with him, you’d told him so only two weeks into your whirlwind romance. He’d taken you out on his private yacht, and he’d bought you the prettiest sailor outfit, and you’d clung to him because you were scared you might fall overboard because of how clumsy you were.

But you’d looked so pretty as the salty sea air rushed over your face, and how you just wouldn’t let go of his hand. You couldn’t stop smiling either, and when he’d kissed you on the deck, holding you firm against the railing as the sun set into the ocean behind you, that’s when you’d whispered it breathlessly against his lips. Like you couldn’t keep it in any longer: I love you.

You’d tried to tug away from him after that, embarrassed at how you’d let your inner feelings slip out so soon into your relationship with him. But you couldn’t help it, he just made you feel so safe, so alive, so wonderful, so you. You’d tried to make a hasty exit, making up an excuse that you had to make a phone call, and praying he hadn’t heard you whisper those three forbidden words…

But Ari had heard you, and his heart had swelled in a way he never thought it could. He’d entered this relationship with you because he needed someone to take care of, and well, you were so hot the night he’d first seen you. So pretty and innocent and lovely. And then he’d gotten to know you, and you were so lively, and made him feel so youthful, made him feel so powerful and important, made him feel like he had to protect you while you danced around his life and made him laugh and cheered him up the way only you could.

He’d held you tightly against him that night on the yacht, not letting you slip away as he’d cupped your beautiful face in his hands, and he’d told you that he loved you too, more than he’d ever loved anyone else. And the look on your face, that look of utter devotion and awe, like you had stars in your eyes – he wished he could bottle it up inside a jar and keep that look safe forever.

That’s how you’re looking at him now, in your cute little princess lingerie, and your lips are begging to be kissed. Ari can’t stand it any longer, and he grabs you by the back of the neck and pulls you down, pressing his lips on yours in a heady kiss.

“You’ve been waiting for tonight, haven’t you?” He breathes against your lips.

You swallow harshly and nod. Of course you had, the moment he’d texted you this morning telling you to be ready for him at his apartment when he got home. That was obvious code that he was going to ruin you tonight, and the pretty princess costume was just the cherry on top of the cake.

Biting your lip, you shyly untuck his shirt from his pants and lift it up, revealing his toned, hairy abs. God, he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen – with an amazing, buff body that was twice the size of yours. He was bigger than you in every single way possible, and you sigh as your fingers run over the deep ridges of his tanned six pack.

Ari snorts, “Like what you see, princess?”

“Uh huh. You’re so hot.” You blurt out.

“Thank you, baby. Why don’t you give me your panties?”

The way he so casually redirects the conversation has your cheeks feeling hot and your pussy clenching in anticipation. Taking your panties off while straddling his crotch proves to be difficult, but you’re nimble enough to make it work. The lace is wet with your juices and your cheeks heat up even more as you hand your panties to him.

Ari brings the lacy material up to his nose, sniffing in your pretty scent. God, he wanted to be buried with your scent if it was possible. He can’t help but find the gusset, sucking the silk into his mouth and tasting your juices.

“You’re so sweet, princess.” He mutters, before shoving the panties in his pocket.

“I’m all wet, daddy,” you pout, knowing your wetness has seeped over to stain his pants as you sit on top of his crotch.

“Oh yeah?” Ari feigns disinterest, busying himself with another sip of his scotch. “Is your little baby cunt getting needy?”

“Yeah!”

“You want daddy to take care of her? Your little cunt?”

You throb at his words, “Yes, please!”

He makes no move to put his scotch away. “I think I’d rather watch you, princess. You can rub yourself on me to make yourself cum.”

You shudder at how casually he says it, but at the same time bite your lip, “B-But daddy, I feel so empty down there. Need you inside me, pretty please?”

Ari pretends to mull over it, “I don’t know, gorgeous, your baby pussy’s awfully tight. I don’t think I’d even get a finger in.” (That was true, you were super tight, but he could work you open in a matter of minutes. He always did, after all, but he wants you to work for an orgasm tonight).

You grab his hand and push it between your legs, feeling like you’re about to go into heat by how turned on you are. “Y-You could stretch me open, daddy, I-I don’t mind! Just wanna feel you inside me.”

“Maybe later, sweetie,” Ari murmurs, indulgently brushing your hair off your face and pulling your cheek when you pout. Of course, he definitely intended to fill you up real good, fuck both your holes silly with his cock and his tongue and his fingers. But the night was still young, and right now he wanted a show while he enjoyed his drink. “C’mon, baby, it’s Halloween. Even a princess has to work a little to get her treat.”

He picks you up by your waist, placing you on his hairy abs, which are rock hard just like his cock which is still in the confines of his pants.

You grab on to his shoulders to steady yourself, before you start moving. And oh, it feels absolutely heavenly, your quivering pussy rubbing against his hard abs, the hair on his torso catching against your swollen clit and immediately making you moan.

“F-Feels so good, daddy,” you whimper, and it makes Ari smile at how cute you are. How much you love it when he makes you feel good, how you selfishly chase after your own pleasure whenever you can because he knows it’s never felt this good for you before. You don’t have to tell him that he’s the best you’ve ever had – he can see it in your eyes every time.

“Yeah? Is your cute baby cunt getting some relief? You enjoy using your daddy like this?” He mutters lowly, pinching your hip to make you move faster as he takes another sip of his scotch. His cock is incredibly tight still confined to his pants, and he’d have loved for you to grind against his cock instead but he knows he would’ve blown his load because of the friction paired with how hot you look right now.

“You enjoy dressing up like a little princess and giving your daddy a show?” He continues, feeling the beast inside him awaken as you whimper so cutely on top of him. With his fingers gripping your hip tightly, he roughly drags you back and forth over his abs, “That’s right, slutty baby, make a mess all over daddy, you like that, don’t you?”

“Yes!” You cry, getting to that point where everything that leaves your mouth is either a plea or incoherent gibberish and crying. That’s when you get so submissive that there isn’t a single thought in your head, and Ari’s sure he could make you do absolutely anything when you’re in that mindset.

His stomach is wet with your cream, and you’re grinding against him desperately now, and he knows you’ll cum any second because it doesn’t take much to get you to cum. He remembers doing this a lot with you in the early days of the relationship, when he knew for a fact you’d need a lot of prep before you could take his big, fat dick inside your pussy. So he’d made you grind on his torso instead, like how you were doing now, as a sort of practice before the real sex. And it’s like you’d never been pleasured before in your life because you came so quickly, over and over again, squirting all over him and begging for him to put it inside you.

Clearly, nothing had changed in two months.

He downs his scotch before setting the glass aside on his bedside table. Then he licks his lips, hand slipping down between your legs. He spreads your folds and you gasp, rocking your hips faster as you feel more now, your clit rubbing deliciously against his abs.

“C’mon, princess,” he urges, moving you up and down on his abs harder, “make yourself cum, baby, squirt all over daddy like the good little girl I know you can be. Like all good princesses squirt on their daddies. You wanna be a good princess, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do!”

“Say it, then.”

“W-Wanna be a good princess for you, daddy. Wanna be so good!” Your face is glistening with sweat and tears, and you’re working so hard for your release. He knows all he has to do is rub your clit once or twice, or even just press against it and you’d cum. But he wants you to work for it, so he can praise you for it and then reward you for making yourself cum with minimal help from daddy.

“You’re daddy’s sexy little princess,” Ari murmurs lowly, pulling you down by the neck till your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you bite at his skin and cry and moan his name as he talks, “you’re doing such a good job, baby, rubbing that baby cunt all over daddy’s abs. You’re so good for me, baby, so fucking good and I love you so much. Daddy loves you so much, honey. More than anything in the world.”

You squirt all over his stomach, your sweet cream covering ever ridge and dip of his muscular torso. You cry and cry, like how you often do when you’re overwhelmed when orgasming, grabbing at his face and kissing him, and he kisses you back fervently, allowing you to make out with him because he knows how overwhelmed and good you feel.

“That’s such a good girl,” he praises you, rubbing your back as you quiver in his arms, and he can feel your pussy quivering too, “such a good fucking girl, you worked so hard, baby and I’m so proud of you.”

“L-Love you so much, daddy,” you whimper pitifully, your poor tiara finally falling off your head, and Ari wants to chuckle at how spent you look, how exhausted you look from rubbing your pussy on him for a couple of minutes. He reminds himself to get you a bottle of water in a few minutes once you’ve calmed down, because he knows he’ll be keeping you busy for the better part of tonight and he wants you to have the energy for it.

But for now, he’ll let you rest for a few minutes. You snuggle up into his chest, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Ari pours himself another scotch, and lights up his cigar, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke out in your direction.

“Happy Halloween, sweetheart,” he grins wickedly, and you lift your head up slightly to offer him a weak smile. “Now put your tiara back on, princess. The night’s not over yet.”

AKSHDSAJGA WHAT DO YOU THINK???? PLEASE LET ME KNOW THIS WAS EXTREMELY SPONTANEOUS AFNKLAGNSKAL I JUST AM OBSESSED WITH SUGAR DADDY ARI AND HIS ABS BYE.

anyways lemme know what you think and pls do reblog and leave any feedback thank you ily

[allfearstofallto]

You are Made to Greet them When they Return Home

Yandere! Forced marriage x fem! Reader head canons

Ft: Childe and Scaramouche

Synopsis: Your yanderes require the domestic pleasure of being greeted by their wife when they return home.

Word Cound: 1k

TW: yandere, obsessive themes, forced marriage, NSFW themes, mentions of previous abuse/punishment

Childe

“Master Childe has arrived home,” a maid said after knocking gently on your bedroom door. A notice to anyone else, but a warning for you. A warning telling you to be your most joyful and happy self, to be ready for your husband that had a temper that could change like the flick of a light switch.

Your nicest dress hugged your body, a satin slip in his favorite shade of blue. It barely went past your plush thighs, something too cold for the typical Snezhnaya air, but perfect for the inside of the estate, which he kept warm for you.

Scurrying down the stairs, your heels clicked against the floor. No matter how many times you'd done this, your heart wouldn't cease beating like a drum. The fear and the worry all sat deep inside your chest and made you tremble, but you tried to not show it on your face.

Arriving at the door to the home, you stood there obediently, as you'd been told to do time and time before. You and a few of the house maids. And almost right on cue, it opened.

For the briefest moment while the door was open, you could hear the sound of the wind howling outside, like screams of the night. A little snow blew through the door, and tickled your toes, but it melted as quickly as it showed up. All that stood there now was him.

Snow covered his coat and frosted the tips of his orange hair, but he still had a beaming smile on his face, overjoyed to see you. “My angel,” he said sweetly at the sight of you.

You were pulled into an embrace, his gloved hands still wet from the elements. He kissed your cheek, his cold red nose tickling you, and you tried not to notice the blood splatter near his neck that he didn't clean off. No matter how domestic he tried to make your life together seem, he could never truly hide what he did for work.

When he pulled away from the hug, you began to take off his cape. No maid was allowed to do this, as he said that undressing him was a job for his wife and his wife alone. It was a heavy, white piece of clothing, with black fur on the nape. He'd always smile at you as you undid the clasp, his height dwarfing over you to the point where you had to reach up to touch his neck.

“Was work okay today…” you gulped down saliva nervously as the cape fell into your hands, the weight of it making your arms sag just a bit. He had a questioning look on his face, raising his eyebrows while his smile began to falter ever so slightly. He wanted you to say the rest. “Was work okay today, m-my love?” you barely managed to force yourself to say those words. You could already feel the bile rising up from your stomach, but the content look on his face told you that he was happy regardless of how strained you sounded.

His large cape was handed to a maid to be cleaned and she ran off without word of orders. You weren't the only one scared of Childe in this house, you were just the one who had his attention.

You didn't even get the chance to completely turn and face him again before he was wrapping his arms around you and resting his body against you in a dramatic display of his fatigue.

“Work was tiresome!” He groaned while placing many unwanted kisses on your cheek and neck, “But my beautiful wife will make it all better, won't you?”

Scaramouche

Such a beautiful, vibrantly colored kimono was nice for special occasions, but it only weighed you down in these instances. The multiple layers piled on top of each other were a pure sight for eyes, but absolute hell to wear. Especially for someone who wasn't native to Inazuma.

You struggled to drop to your knees in front of the door. It felt like all of these layers were swallowing you whole, and with one wrong move, you wouldn’t be able to get up. Not without assistance at least.

The lighting outside illuminated his silhouette through the translucent white, paper of the sliding door and you hurried to make sure you were in position.

The second you heard it click and slide open, you bowed your head down before him. Your palms against the floor, thumbs in the shape of a triangle, and your forehead pressed against the ground. You'd practiced this position a million times before, with him studying your figure to make sure you got it right each and every time.

“We welcome you home, my lord, Scaramouche,” you said with your head still angled towards the floor. He merely hummed at your greeting. A hum was good, it meant that you hadn't displeased him yet.

You were to stay in this position until he told you to rise. Some days he did it immediately, so that he could begin to kiss and undress you like an animal in heat. Other days, he would leave you there to see how long he could keep you on your knees before him. Those days were hell, the weight of the kimono made it feel as if you were suffocating, drenching yourself in sweat. But you knew better than to move an inch. Being crushed by heavy fabric was better than any punishment he'd given you before.

You could hear the sound of him shuffling, taking off his shoes and putting away his jacket, then finally, you heard the familiar jingles of him lifting his ornate hat off of his head, and handing it off to a maid who also stood beside you.

“You may look upon me,” he ordered.

You rose up, but still stayed on your knees in front of him, finally meeting his gaze for the first time today, “Greetings, my lord. Did the day treat you alright?”

“My day was the same as usual,” he muttered while stepping past you and up the stairs, “Meet me in the bedroom, and bring tea as well.”

When you heard the familiar click of the bedroom door closing, you breathed a sigh of relief. You'd made it through another moment with him, but still rose to your feet with hesitance. Making it through the greeting was the first part, now you'd have to manage in the bedroom.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

Could you write fic based off of this img

《 ALSO ON AO3 》

Comments & kudos on ao3 are much appreciated, as are reblogs here on Tumblr! ❤️

The red hot branding iron was inches away from his other cheek when he woke with a choked gasp. His ragged breath was running away from him while his heart pounded like fists against his ribcage. His wide, pale blue eyes blinked frantically, adjusting to the darkness, trying desperately to latch onto something—anything—that didn’t belong in his dank, dark prison cell. A bed, he told himself. His chest rose and fell as if he was running a marathon. He swallowed hard. I’m in a bed. The only bed he’d known in Arkham was the cold, hard, filthy wood floor of his cage. But he could still feel the intense heat radiating off the cruel metal onto his tender, unbranded cheek; the Clown’s maniacal cackle still echoed in his ear. He clawed at his pillow, pulling it over his head as if he could hide from his master, as if he could drown out the grating laugh that would haunt him even after he was rotting away in his grave.

“He’s dead,” he panted as his body shook like a leaf in a hurricane, “he’s dead, he’s dead, I’m free,” he repeated, but icy terror still clutched at his throat as his mind refused to believe the words. The walls of the dark room seemed to close around him, swallowing him back down into the bowels of Arkham Asylum, where his master was waiting to punish him again. He choked back a scream. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, which he screwed shut. “Not again,” he whimpered helplessly. “Please don’t do it again.”

His muscles were as taut as a grappling cable. Cold sweat drenched his entire body. He pulled shuddering knees to his chest, curling into the fetal position, as if he could protect himself from the crowbar in the Clown's lavender-gloved hands. 

A pair of ungloved hands slid beneath the crooks of his arms, and he squealed in terrifying despair.

“Shh,” a voice whispered, as soft as satin, as gentle as a breeze. Then the warmth of an embrace enveloped him, dragging him out of hell.

“I-I’m sorry…” he stammered, sniffling. Warm tears trickled down his cheeks, which flamed red with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you…”

She squeezed him even tighter, curling herself around him, wrapping him up in a cocoon of protection. Her heart beat steadily against his mutilated back, and he grounded himself with the comforting sensation; the reminder that he was needed, that he was loved. 

“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured sleepily. “You’re safe. I’m here…” She placed a tender kiss against his trembling shoulder, and his body relaxed in her arms. “I got you.”

[knightsickness]

westerosi perfume culture thoughts based on medieval/early modern ^^

incense in septs to the point of both cat and sansa immediately thinking of the smell of it when thinking about the faith. this is fully a ‘the faith is just catholicism’ thing theres reference to a censer being used at tywin’s funeral, though this is also to cover the smell of the body - i believe its implied theyre using a lot more incense than they typically would and failing to overpower the rot smell

scented candles and incense are both used in septs and to scent rooms - scented candles higher-end, beeswax candles, which even unscented smell quite sweet and are quite expensive (they burn cleanly and don’t spit). animal fat tallow candles are much cheaper but perfume can’t stop rotting fat smelling of rotting fat it just combines with it. tallow tends to be used in poorer settings, for light not scent

scented beeswax candles used by tyrion and cat, and in the sept of baelor - imo v unlikely most smallfolk or smaller septs are buying them regularly, especially considering how many candles they need to keep lit. i’d say tallow 90% of the time beeswax on holy days

basically every noble in kings landing seems to wear perfume, ned specifically repulsed by the fact that robert now does which is crazy. whats roberts taste in perfume like

varys specifically is always described as perfumed, which is like. effeminacy due to eunuch status he leans into but also his ambiguous origin - while a lot of people in westeros wear perfume it seems to be significantly more popular in the free cities + beyond, vv frequently mentioned in dany chapters

perfumed and powdered often go together, varys and lysa off the top of my head - powders could also be scented, quite popular in france

multiple references to oldtown being heavily perfumed, dual reference to incense as a faith centre and worn perfume on a dowager, oldtown as a wealthy city and consumer centre

perfume also strongly associated with prostitution, an irony - septs and brothels often scented with incense, the ‘perfumed boy’ slaves victarion kills, satin wearing scent in his beard

popular scents rarely described in more detail than a type of flower or ‘sweet’ - most interesting perfume a westerosi lady wears is taena’s wildflower and musk, which cersei compares to the smell of moss

the tyrells seem to only wear rosewater this is pretty explicitly part of their branding as a house. even the blue bard a tyrell servant washes his hair with rosewater. most roses actually don’t distill well i’m assuming they have some westerosi equivalent to damask roses grown in bulk at highgarden or some other reach territory (probably at highgarden their scent in the gardens would be part of the tyrell image cultivation there. henry viii did this specific thing so you would smell his rose perfume in the gardens even when he was away from home which some historians have referred to as a ‘serve’) only like two varieties of rose work in perfuming. i’d also speculate that the roses margaery and her ladies brought to tywin’s funeral, if they were strong-smelling enough to cover the smell of an unnaturally rotting corpse, were probably roses scented with rosewater

perfume application on people typically oils, waters and more rarely waxes - multiple mentions of perfumed beards or hairstyles and waxes would be easier for that - perfume in baths common for the wealthy

no mention of scented accessories e.g. gloves or fans, though both immensely popular in elizabethan england - are there civet cats or equivalent in westeros? there are whales and thus presumably ambergris, taena’s perfume referred to as musky but unclear if this means it contains actual musk - animal perfumes are best for scenting leather, strong and waxy and other lighter scents can cling to them. dany wears scented silk clothes

tyrion associates worn perfume strongly with old whores, which suggests cheap perfume widely accessible, probably perfumer’s shops in major cities (notable bc otherwise we could conclude perfumers worked primarily for aristocratic patrons)

there are probably westerosi perfume-makers but its also likely theres a solid luxury import trade - dorne and the free cities both have established distinct perfume cultures and strong trade links with merchants

[devdas5z]

Ryva Kajtazi 

[janicep02316]

The navy blue satin opera glove is quite uncomfortable to wear with a matching dress, but I like the same kind of color like this.

[ai-satin-chic]

She took a moment and realised what was to come.

[ssweetleaf]

million dollar man.

summary: you’re sick of seeing people talk down to robert, so you show him just how much you respect him.

robert fischer x afab!reader

includes: SMUT, rob’s asshole dad, kinda subby!daddy rob though there’s no daddy kink in this one, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, a really terrible ending because that’s all i’m good at

✩

“You ready, honey?”

The foyer sparkled around you, big marble pillars and stupidly shiny chandeliers all gleamed at you, causing your eyes to squint and your mouth to open in awe.

Everywhere you looked there were people, all dressed up in their formal attire— cinched waists and satin gloves paired with crisp waistcoats and bow ties, old money, new money, it didn’t matter, as long as they had a good seven digits within their net worth they’d be considered a part of the festivities.

And that’s where you realised you didn’t quite belong in that room, with those people.

“Honey? You listenin’?”

You shook the fog from your brain, eyes flitting to him. Robert. Your Robbie, handsome as ever in his suit, tailored to fit him just right, his tie matching the dark wine colour that was your dress. The dress he had got you and left on your duvet as a surprise. You couldn’t begin to imagine how much it had cost him.

You smiled up at him, small and not quite reaching your eyes.

“Sorry, Robbie,” your eyes fluttered to the floor, “just nervous is all.”

He stepped closer to you, big palms raising to cradle your cheeks, squishing them slightly and running his thumbs along the soft skin.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, full of sincerity, his eyes so blue and glistening. “S’no need to be nervous, sweet girl.”

You nodded, all bashful now, leaning into his kiss when he pressed a chaste one to your lips.

Robert hooked his arm out for you to take, leading you inside the ballroom with high ceilings and waiters that held trays full of champagne. You took a mental note to snag one of those flutes whenever you had the chance, you needed a bit of liquid courage.

Being Robert Fischer’s arm candy meant staying at his side at all times, with an arm hooked round your waist or a palm to the small of your back, any little touch to tell anyone that ogled— you were his.

His girl.

“Robert, you’re late—” standing straight and proper was his father, peering at him in a look much akin to distaste, not bothering to give you so much as a glance.

You saw Rob’s jaw tick.

“I’d like you to meet Thomas, he’s shown to be quite useful in the business, I’m sure you could learn a thing or two…”

Straight to business. Straight to the insults. The same old same old, shaking hands and discussing terms and money that you hadn’t a clue about— Robert’s teeth were gritted, hand gripping your hip to sate and ground him.

“Lovely to see you as always, father,” he spoke, sarcasm swirling on his tongue, blue eyes swarming and darkening at the mere sight of his own flesh and blood.

The conversation went on for a while before Thomas piped up, gaze settling on your figure, roaming and ogling, staring for far too long at your tits.

“And who’s this?” He asked, eyes never leaving yours. You felt uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly and hugging yourself closer to Robert.

Rob’s brows furrowed, a possessive arm tightening around you further.

“This is my girl-” he looked down at you, fondness and so much adoration swirling in his irises, mouth quirking in a smile when you settled your own gaze upon his.

“It’s about time you settled down,” his father spoke out before Rob had time to utter your name, “but believe me, doll, run while you still can.”

You frowned.

“He’s useless, I tell you. Absolutely useless—”

“I think that’s quite enough.” You took hold of your lover’s hand, tugging him along, “if you’ll excuse us.”

Robert followed along like a lost puppy, letting you tug on his hand and guide him to the nearest available bathroom.

The sparkly green tile gleamed at you as soon as you walked through the door, pushing him through and clicking the lock shut.

“What’re you doing, honey,” he stuttered, swallowing thickly when you pushed him up against the counter, smoothing your palms along his lapels and down his chest.

“No one gets to speak to you like that.” You muttered, frowning, and he smoothed at the furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb, smiling slightly.

“S’alright, baby,” he began, cutting himself off when he saw you shaking your head.

“No, it isn’t,” you spoke, firm and to the point, hands moving to cradle his jaw and cheeks, skin smooth and shaven, so pretty to look at. “do you hear me?”

He chuckled, pressing his hands to your hips, swaying you gently, attempting to soothe you.

“I hear ya, sweetheart—”

“Robert, I mean it.” You swiped at the skin underneath his eyes, palming his delicate skin and marvelling at how pretty he was. Oh, how vulnerable he could be when he was with you.

You stared at each other for a while, eyes flitting over every blemish and dimple, savouring the sight as if the world was coming to an end, shifting to a close.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, a chaste one, so soft it was barely there, leaning in close, your lashes fluttering against his cheek bone.

“Let me show you.” You muttered, pressing another kiss, a firmer one, to his lips now, then another, far more desperate. “Let me show you, Robbie.”

“Honey,” his chuckle was nervous, voice cracking and eyelids fluttering closed when your mouth mapped along the sharp line of his jaw. “honey, not here— n-not now.”

You pulled back, an over-exaggerated pout playing upon your lips before you leaned in, mouth pressed to his ear, tongue flicking against the shell when you uttered into it.

“Please, sir.”

He whimpered, broken and whiny, and you could feel him against your belly, already hard and throbbing when your breath fanned along his neck.

“Okay,” he sighed, almost dreamily, bucking his hips against you and holding onto you tight. “Alright, darling, you know I’ll do anything for you.”

He was breathless, seeing stars, sucking his lip between his teeth when you lowered yourself to kneel in front of him, hands smoothing along his thighs, the expensive material of his Italian suit glided along your palms, smooth and elegant before you found what you were looking for.

A bulge tightened his trousers, stretching the fabric, barely being able to contain the sheer size of his big cock, you were sure if you left him any longer a wet spot would form.

“Please, sweetheart,” he was the one saying please now, petting at your hair and smoothing down the tresses, chest heaving at your kneeling form, looking all pliant though he knew you were the one in charge.

You pulled at his belt, tugging it through the buckle, the leather squeaking when you grew impatient with it, wanting it off. Then you unbuttoned him, drawing down his fly, pushing them down along with the tight constriction of his boxer briefs, letting them pool at his ankles.

His cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach, a long pearlescent string of pre-cum sticking to his skin, mouth-wateringly so.

“So pretty,” you cooed, reaching up to take him in your hand, girthy and long, everything you’d ever need, your fingers barely being able to touch from the thickness. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“All yours, darling—” he whined, breathy and muscles tensing. “all for you.”

You hummed, leaning forward to kiss at his tip, stroking him with your fist, slow and sensual, grinning as his breath picked up.

You licked along the length of him, along that thick vein that throbbed hotly, sucking his balls into your mouth one after the other, leaving the stain of your lipstick along his flesh, before taking his cock down your throat, hearing him moan and whimper at the suddenness of it all.

“Oh, that’s it,” he whined, thumb smoothing along your cheek, “good girl, s-such a good, sweet girl.”

You hummed around him, swirling your tongue around him and trying to take him as deep as your throat would let you, gagging around his cock, tears slipping from your heaves.

Robert felt his chest swell, the sight before him so pretty, suckling at his cock, your tears glistening from the light of the bathroom’s chandelier, so lucky he could call you his. His girl.

The ring box in his suit pocket felt heavy when he stared at you.

You took him further down your throat, salty tears slipping down your cheeks, leaving your eyes all sparkly and glistening, gagging around his cock every now and again, the sharp tug that Robert inflicted upon your tresses a big indicator that he greatly enjoyed the constriction of your tight, warm little throat.

“Yes, that’s it, my sweet girl,” he whimpered, hips mindlessly bucking with each downward thrust of your mouth. “So good to me, take care of me so well.”

Hell, if anyone decided to walk past the door to the bathroom they were situated in, they’d get an earful— the crude sound of sloppy sucking and his airy whimpers resonated around the echoey room. Someone was bound to listen in.

You had half a hope that Thomas was outside the door, listening to the sheer pleasure you inflicted on your boy.

“Baby,” he stuttered, whining and pawing at your hair and cheeks, desperate and leaking onto your tongue. “Can I cum? Oh, please, darling, let me cum.”

You took your mouth off him, letting your hand take over, slowly stroking him into your fist, thumb flicking over his head, so sensitive, you thought.

You pouted up at him, somewhat mockingly.

“Don’t you wanna cum inside me, Robbie?” You stared at him, whatching him heave and buck, cheeks all flushed and forehead sweaty, such a pretty, pathetic sight. “Was looking forward to it all night.”

You continued your pouting, adding a little whine to your speech, watching him nod exuberantly and stroking your cheek with his shuddering palm.

“O-of course, baby— wanna cum inside you, just wanna please you.”

You smiled, pressed one last kiss to the flushed head of his tip before standing, moving to lean over the counter, back arched and ass in the air, swaying at him teasingly.

His palms smoothed over your backside, ruching the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty panties, a pretty shade of pink, a wet spot saturating the fabric that covered your cunt.

He groaned, grabbing a handful of your hips, kneading the flesh between his fingers. He gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking his bottom lip between his teeth when he saw your pretty tits spilling out of your bodice.

“What’re you waiting for, Robbie? Haven’t I been a good girl?”

He nodded, still so red in the face, leaning over you to press his face in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin; a form of an apology.

“Yes, dear, you’ve been such a good girl. Always deserve my cock, always.” He hummed, pulling back to tuck his fingers into the elastic of your underwear, pulling them to the side and exposing your glistening pussy, juices dripping down your thighs and clit throbbing hotly.

Rob huffed out a breath, cock jumping at the sight before him, before gripping himself at the base, gliding it along your slit and bumping the tip against your clit, tapping it lightly before repeating the process.

“Hurry,” you whined, pressing yourself closer against him, wiggling your hips, the movement causing the ridge of his cock to slip inside your hole.

He pushed all the way to the base, panting like a dog and gripping at your skin, etching finger-shaped bruises into your flesh.

“Feel so perfect.” He whimpered, feeling you clench, trying to adjust to his size, the thickness of his cock stretching you out impossibly— you felt as if he was in your throat.

It wasn’t long before you gave him the go ahead to move, the subtle sting of his size still apparent, though the jolts of pleasure completely overshadowed the discomfort.

You were squealing into your arm, moaning like a porn star with every thrust, squeezing him and hitting your ass back in time with the buck of his hips.

“S-so wet, baby, so fuckin’ pretty, creamin’ all over my cock, aren’t you?” You nodded, yesyesyes, so obscene, you began to cry, heavy sobs heaving from your lips at the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Y’the only one that can make me feel this good, Robbie,” you moaned, blindly reaching back to find one of hands, clutching onto it and weaving your fingers between his. “M’all yours, Sir.”

His voice cracked when he whined out, squeezing his eyes shut smoothing a hand over the fat of your ass cheeks.

“Shit,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “baby, m’gonna cum already— m’sorry, sweet girl, just gotta fill you up.”

“Oh, please,” you begged, clenching and quivering around him, feeling the thick veins and ridges that ran along his length thrusting in and out, in and out. “Need it, want you to put a baby inside me, you’d make such a good daddy, Robert.”

His brain short-circuited at your crude words, hips stuttering and eyes going all starry and glossy as he came. Quick ropes of cum painted your walls, sticky and thick, and even with how sensitive his cock felt he continued to fuck his seed into your spasming pussy, your own orgasm washing over you with his filthy sounds.

Not a drop of cum was left to waste, all of it pushed deep inside, and once he was far too overstimulated to be inside you any longer, he stuffed his fingers inside you, plugging you with the Fischer prodigy and hoping with flushed cheeks and a beating heart it’d take.

All he wanted was to see you all round and full with his children. And soon the ring he had bought would be situated pride and place on your ring finger.

Soon.

[dreamgrlarchive]

A Prissy Girl’s Guide to Spring

since i won’t be active on tumblr when next spring comes around, and i’ve done 3/4 seasons, i felt it was appropriate to go ahead and finish the series! if you find yourself inspired by my aesthetic/looks, you can absolutely use this as a guide for the next primavera season! 🐇

what’s the look this spring?

my personal forecast for fashion spring ‘24 is “pink pilates bimbo” for sure. the renewal of spring is the time for a wellness reset. so i’ll be engaging in a physical activity but i’ll still be in barbie attire. pink athleisure pieces with super girly additions is my predicted aesthetic. 🎀

first and foremost…

let’s talk about what spring symbolizes: renewal, cleansing, and restarting. that makes itself apparent in the seasons colors; the darkness of winter transitions to the soft pastels of spring.

preparation

start spring cleaning and prepping for seasonal allergies. stock up on in season fruits to keep in the house. take up outside activities like biking, outdoor yoga, and jogging. buy new fragrances. prep your skin and hair for the overtime humidity.

essentials

pretty umbrella

allergy meds/quarterly check up

new water bottle/tumbler

fresh and clean candles + home fragrances

matcha and jade citrus tea

humidifier

neti pot

clothes and accessories

pink athleisure. the lululemon strawberry milkshake jacket is a must! (or a dupe if you’re on budget)

foldover yoga pants

bedazzled pieces

pastel colored pieces

cute mini bags

victoria’s secret totes

tennis skirts

sheer + lacey tops

florals for spring? groundbreaking.

glitter + sequins

satin dresses

lace up sandals

hunter boots

coach baguettes

victoria’s secret co-ords, leggings and sweaters

ballet flats

ugg slippers + fluff sandals

cute gym shoes with pink/sparkly details

lace up pieces

baby blue is a staple color for spring

ruffle trims

warm materials + revealing cuts

“pastry princess” looks inspired by sweets and dessertz

cropped baby tees

stripper heelz

diamond jewelry

body jewelry + belly chainz

sparkly hair clips and headbands

butterfly aesthetics

ribbons and bows

ostrich feathers

sparkly keychains and wristlets

bodysuits + heels combo

statement jewelry like hello kitty, fruit or desserts

beauty

pretty eye pigments (try mac, huda or iconic london)

vibrant pinks

warm bronzer

glitter gloss

translucent glosses in pink and orange

charlotte tilbury flawless filter

nars super orgasm blush

morphe 8r complexion palette

morphe nikita palette

natasha denona diamond & glow (favvv)

a bunch of clear glosses

fenty diamond bomb

fenty fussy gloss bomb

urban decay moondust shadows

cake beauty products

joseon spf 50

bright and/or floral fragrances (gucci flora gorgeous gardenia, jimmy choo illicit flower, carolina herrera good girl blush, juliette has a gun collection, yves saint laurent mon paris intensement, marc jacobs daisy fragrances)

victoria’s secret love spell + warm and cozy + la crème fragrances

sol de janeiro body mists

body shimmer (fenty beauty or bath and body works)

sweet body butters

sol de janeiro beija flor

exfoliating gloves

juicy sheet masks

cetaphil moisturizing cream

native candy shop collection

victoria’s secret tease + eau so sexy

5 blade razors and post shave oil

cute mirrors to keep in my purses

glitter nails

lavenders and pinks

protein treatments for moisture overload

[zablife]

Lovefool

Tommy x gf reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t go,” he pleaded.

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

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

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

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

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

"Know what?" you whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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