#portrait of a lady in a blue dress

[artschoolglasses]

Portrait of a Lady in a Blue Dress, Mary Beale, 1670s

[diioonysus]

black women + art

[7pleiades7]

Portrait of a Lady (1750) by Franz van der Mijn (Flemish, 1719–1783), oil on canvas, 92.2 x 72.3 cm, Private Collection

[blujayonthewing]

relatives you barely talk to will extrapolate your entire personality out of a single anecdote from your childhood that they are remembering wrong

[acrosscenturiesandgenerations]

▪︎Portrait of a Lady in a Blue Dress.

Artist: Thomas Gainsborough (English, 1727-1788)

Date: ca. 1783-1785

Medium: Oil on canvas

[thnks-fr-th-samulet]

the way a portrait of a lady on fire is the nth retelling of orpheus's journey but this time eurydice!! has!! a voice!! it is about eurydice! this is her story, about how eurydice wishes to be seen and portrayed and how that evolves!! and she is listened to!!

[popsixsquishcicerolipschitz]

history-of-fashion

1891 Władysław Bakalowicz - Lady in a Blue Dress (also known as Portrait of a Lady)

(Private collection)

[venmondiese]

LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

based on this request⭑.ᐟ

-ˋˏsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. ✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character ✧word count: 3.1k ✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.

Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to King’s landing, he rolled his eye. 

Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldn’t properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods. 

He doesn’t doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, ‘like fire’ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.

His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support. 

Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.

She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasn’t seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.

 “My lady” Aemond says softly. 

She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks. 

 “My prince” she says, a bit surprised. “I… I didn’t expect you.”

“I must admit I came a bit earlier than agreed…” he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.

The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was… something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.

“Oh, well, so it seems…” she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. “It’s a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.” 

Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted.  But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.

“You think so?” 

She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. “Yes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit… depressing…” she says, smiling sweetly. “But here it’s very beautiful. More… alive”

As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery. 

“You are not what I expected” he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.

“No?” She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. “You’ll see I’m a little box full of surprises” 

That’s the beginning.

A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was… traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.

“Just focus on me” He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity “Your septa and mother could have told you…”

“Not much” She whispers back.

“Not much” he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. “But I will be gentle, and… we’ll learn together. Yes?”

“Yes. Thank you…, husband” she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful woman’s husband. 

And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as ‘her sweet husband’. 

Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrun’s rivers, and just… enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.

“Black looks well on you” Aemond comments. 

Daerion’s blabbing was a way to agree with Aemond’s statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his. 

“Your wardrobe hasn’t changed” she states looking at him. “Went from velvet black to dark black” 

Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.

“Mhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicable…” Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. “Does father know it’s useless? Rhaenyra wearing green won’t change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby. 

“It’s foolish when you put it that way” her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he won’t complain about. 

Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.

“They shouldn’t call you the Maiden herself anymore” Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. “You are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong… so alluring…”

“You never seem to run out of compliments” her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him. 

“Never, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mine…”

“My prince, my lady.” It’s a Kings guard who interrupts. “Supper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlier…”

“Hm” Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurse’s arms.

“Thank you, ser Willis” the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.

He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his son’s forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is… annoys him.

Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.

He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them. 

“Goodbye, my sweet love” the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.

Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.

He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.

“I heard they might have some goose” she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. “I’d eat it all if I could, you know” she teases.

“Mhm.” Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.

“I would only share it with you” she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.

As he stands, he doesn’t miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a man’s face. Much more when they looked at her 

The supper is mostly… tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.

“Amazing” she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesn’t choke for eating so quickly. “Here, my love” she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much. 

Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.

Helaena and Jacaerys’ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact. 

She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, she’d dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea. 

“Lady Tully” It was Daemon Targaryen’s deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his. 

“Prince Daemon” her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.

She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncle’s throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men. 

Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knuckles’ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.

Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage. 

He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryon’s boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.

“Dancing with him” Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. “Accepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with you” 

“It was politeness...” her voice is weak when protesting.

“Did he mocked me for having only one eye?” He asks roughly. “Did he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?”

She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. “I am dutiful to what it’s expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock you”

“You should…”

“My family’s words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.” she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps “And I did just what was asked…”

“You are mine” he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. “My wife and you are… putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is… beyond that”

Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking. 

“He wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a… wench or… or some kind of…”

“I know” 

Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.

“You knew?”

“It was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken ties…”

“I will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to him” he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife. 

Seeing Daemon’s hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.

“Get naked” he says simply.

“What?”

“You heard me just right. Get. Naked.” He says again, not wanting a negative. 

Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.

“Let me” he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.

She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone. 

“Undress me” he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.

Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldn’t even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours. 

“I forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever again” 

Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. “Forbid?”

“Hm. It’s what I said, is it not?” He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied. 

“But it’s mad” she protests, frowning. “I promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didn’t spoke-”

“Too bad” his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation. 

“You are being irrational...”

“And you are being a fucking brat” he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. “I’ll show you how irrational I can get”

Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches. 

“Fucking slut, giving yourself to other men” his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.

Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.

“Whore.”  His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face. 

She gasps, her face turned. It wasn’t harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didn’t stand for people dishonouring her. 

Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. “You will learn your place” Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. “Open your mouth”

 He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured. 

Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemond’s fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit. 

“There is my good girl” he murmurs, looking at her. “Mhm. I’m going to teach you a lesson” 

Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.

She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

 “Such a sweet little cunt” he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion. 

Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that… nothing happened.

“Aemond” She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.

“Yes, my love?” He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside her 

She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. “Eh… move?”

“I don’t think so” he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. “You’ll have to fuck yourself on my cock” His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. “Show me how much you need me” he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. “How much you need my cock”

Feeling the thick length of Aemond’s cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock. 

“Aemond… Fu-uck, you feel… oh, yes…” She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush.  

Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever. 

He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasn’t the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.

“So responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussy” Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight. 

“Please, Aemond…” 

“You just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your place” he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. “Because you are a needy whore” he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully. 

“Yes” she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. “Yes, please”

The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.

Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom. 

“Let those bastards hear you, hm?” He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. “How it’s your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on you” 

The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt. 

The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust. 

“Please, please…” the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. “I can’t t-take i-it… anymo-ore” 

“Oh, you will” he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. “I will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.

“Cum for me, my love” he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. “My beautiful wife” he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored. 

The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, it’s enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.

He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.

“You have to know–” she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “You are hot when jealous”

Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.

“You always find me hot, I could be… Killing a chicken and you would be leaking”

“Get on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flex” she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.

The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didn’t love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed. 

“I didn’t really mean it” he says softly. 

“Hm?” She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.

“You can talk to them” he says through gritted teeth. “Just-... not too much”

Her little laugh warms his heart. “Very well” she says amused. “For each sentence I say to them, I will suck you”

“I retract myself, talk to them very much, all you like” he says, and it has her giggling. “You know I love you…” he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.

“You know I love you more…” she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. “Yes. Seems pretty nice”

He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. “What in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?” 

She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair. 

[chippedcupwrites]

Sansa Stark┃the living painting

John Millais. The Martyr of the Solway. 1871. │ Gabriel von Max. Young woman with flowers in her hair. │ Sophie Gengembre Anderson. Portrait of a Young Girl. │ James Carroll Beckwith. The Embroiderer. │ Arthur Hughes. Juliet and her Nurse. 1867–1872. │ Thomas Benjamin Kennington. Contemplation. │ Alexandre Cabanel. Fallen Angel. 1847. │ Frederick Sandys. Helen of Troy. 1867. │ Ruth Sanderson. Arthur and Guinevere. │ Paul Delaroche. The Execution of Lady Jane Grey. 1833. │ Johannes Vermeer. Girl with a Pearl Earring. 1665. │ Stephen Phillips. Nancy Price as Calypso in Ulysses. 1902. │ P. J. Lynch. Eithlinn, Daughter of Balor. 2000. │ Charles Allen Winter. Portrait of a Woman. 1919. │ William Oxer. Amor Aeternus. 2022. │ George Romney. Emma Hart as Miranda. 1786. │ Bertalan Székely. Red Haired Girl. 1875. │ John Roddam Spencer Stanhope. Thoughts of the Past. 1859. │ Jean-Jacques Henner. Head Of A Young Girl In A Blue Dress. │ John William Waterhouse. Ophelia. 1910. │ Rudolf Kosow, Geheimnisvoll. │

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Jealous, Jealous, Boy || Young president!Snow X Plinth!Reader

GIF by @fuckyeahtomblyth and divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Being Panem’s First Lady was not all luxurious or happy. Snow was often cold, focused on Gamemaking leaving you to do whatever you pleased to do. But when new arrive to him that you were being awfully to friendly with one of the elitists, Snow always lands on top.

Warnings: toxic/possesive Snow

Wc:

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

“And where have you been, my darling wife?” Snow’s voice calls out as you pause slightly before shutting the doors behind you. Smoothing down the fitted dress, your heels click as you walk towards the drawing room. You see Snow sitting on an armchair, his back facing you as your fingers tap against your thigh.

“I asked you a question,” He voices out, his head turning to the side. “I visited the academy, wanted to see how the students were going.” You softly spoke out. It wasn’t a lie. You were bored out of your mind as of this morning, Tigris had to cancel on your weekly meet up and Snow was going to be stuck in his office all day like every other day.

“Come, sit.” He turns his head back around. It was dead silent apart from the clicking of your heels as you sit at the armchair beside Coriolanus’. “How’s the little one?” He makes eye contact with you, his arms folding as you furrow your eyebrows at him.

“Oh don’t act stupid Y/n, you don’t think I don’t get informed when you don’t bleed?” He chuckles, amused. Instinctively, your hand caresses your lower abdomen. Snow watches silently, “Can I?” “Hm?” “Can I feel it?” The corners of your lips slightly tug up. “Of course Coryo,” his nickname slipped out of your mouth. It had been such a long time since you’ve called him something so personal.

Snow’s large hands slowly move to your clothed abdomen. His fingers were ever so close, but you could tell he was hesitant. You take his hand and place it at the barely there bump. You intently watch Snow’s feature soften. Although they were quite young, a child would only help strengthen the family.

And just like that, his features harden. His cold façade back. He retreats his hand back, rubbing his forehead. “What are you thinking about?” You quietly ask, your eyes on your hands as you fidget. Coriolanus was always like this.

Shutting himself away whenever he felt a slight tinge of happiness, or the feeling of being loved. He hated the it; bringing him awful memories. “I’m thinking, y/n, of what I should do.” He stands up as your eyes follow him moving towards the alcohol on the table. “I’ve been informed that you have gotten quite comfortable with one of the elitists, am I wrong?”

Silence. “I said, am. I. wrong!” He yells, throwing the shot glass at the portrait of you and him on your wedding day. You quietly scream as you bring your hands up to your ears. You were shaking. Tears uncontrollably fell from your eyes as you sobbed. Snow hardly ever showed you his violent side. Feeling his presence coming towards you, you move your legs towards your chest.

“Shhh…” He takes your hands in his. You slowly look up towards your husband who’s staring at you so intensely. He lifts your chin up with his index finger. “You know I would never hurt you,” he says ever so softly, “or our unborn child,” His eyes flicker to your stomach.

“For the sake of my sanity, you are to stay home. You are not permitted to visit the academy. Do you understand, wife?” Your gaze falters, Snow pushes your chin up higher once again, forcing you to look at his blue irises. “Do you understand?” Snow says, this time it was barely a whisper.

You nodding your head was not sufficient enough for him. “Give me words.” “Yes. Yes I understand, husband” His face contorts into satisfaction. “Reed was it? Is that his name?” You slowly nod, he already knew that, he just wanted you to admit to it. “I didn’t cheat.” “Hm, I believe you. Reed will be kicked out, he should know his place.”

Coriolanus gives you one final kiss before straightening up and walking away.

[mcolnatphoto]

Autumn is Coming for 6X Magazine & Figgi Magazine Photographer : Matthieu Colnat Model: Lauryanne Location: Paris, France

https://mangona6.wixsite.com/mcolnatphoto www.instagram.com/m.colnatphoto

Every official and published set for sell, full screen. You can also purchase prints. Message me for details. Thank you for your support.

[radiance1]

Witch au but Sam looks far too much like Martha Wayne than a lot of people are comfortable with.

I hear you ask, "but Sam is younger than her in this au" and I tell you that Martha Wayne had the genetic trait of looking younger than she actually was, a trait that was in her family for generations.

Thus, we have Sam who resembles Martha Wayne far too much, the philosopher's stone that makes her immortal, and a genetic trait that has Martha looking younger than she actually is and you get misunderstandings.

So, Sam was just minding her business trying to figure out what exactly for her castle to be anywhere that wasn't Amity Park when someone stepped onto her property and, getting a feel for them she realized that they don't seem to be magical in nature.

Also, scratch that, it was more than one person.

So, she decided to give them a... 'warm' welcome.

A group of people who believed in the supernatural decided to get together one day to explore the castle that spawned randomly one day in Gotham for shits and giggles. So there they were, stepping through the fog, barely able to see the ground let alone each other.

They had to solve a puzzle for the door to the castle to open in those conditions, which was weird but it was also the fun kind of weird so they weren't complaining about it. When they opened the door it was very dark, which made them second guess themselves for a second and then they decided to step in anyway.

They live in Gotham what's the chances of this castle being worse than what they go through weekly?

The door slammed shut behind them as soon as the last person stepped inside, leaving them in total darkness for a moment before candles lit themselves up and they saw the inside of the castle in its full glory.

It looked, very, very beautiful.

So beautiful in fact, that they almost missed the woman stood at the top of the stairs. She looked very, very beautiful and was wearing a dress that looked very expensive (think Blue Diamond from Steven Universe but black) with a red gem right in the middle of her chest.

The lady welcomed them into her castle, and suddenly they found their vision going back as the woman's sinister chuckle echoed all around them and they found themselves in separate rooms of the house.

Fun fact, this group of people were also streamers and streaming everything up to the point of Sam's entrance and then her magicking them all in different rooms. They also had a pretty good following, so safe to say the chats were going crazy over what just happened.

So, the various live streamers investigate the castle to find a way to escape before their assumed death, they solve various puzzles both with their own wit and the help of their chat that were magical in nature. The various puzzles and traps were, genuinely, very fun to solve, both for the chat and the streamers doing them.

All the streamers manage to meet up again, and boy are they genuinely thankful for the fact that-so far at least, this doesn't seem to actually be anything life threatening and just seemed to be a grand time all around.

Then they all headed down a hall together, and the chat just went absolutely ballistic when they saw a large portrait of the witch and another man standing together and smiling.

The chat never got a good look at her before the streamers got teleported to different rooms, but that painting?

It changed everything.

Because the woman standing in that picture-as pointed out by a chat member, looked an awful lot like Martha Wayne, and the man standing next to her? Thoms Wayne.

The streamers, obviously, think they've hit the jack pot because their viewer count is just going up and up because of this new information and also think they've hit some sort of scandal because, wasn't Martha Wayne dead?

Eventually, the find themselves sitting at the dining table with said woman who was silently drinking tea with a bunch of food sitting on the table in front of them. The woman smirked as she placed down her cup, asking if they enjoyed the various puzzles she laid out for them.

Everyone agrees, and the chat is exploding for them to ask if she's actually Martha Wayne.

She doesn't answer save for a cheeky smile and then suddenly they were standing outside of her castle and couldn't get back in.

Safe to say, reporters were flocking to ask various questions.

[diioonysus]

fans + art

[7pleiades7]

Portrait of a Lady (1750) by Franz van der Mijn (Flemish, 1719–1783), oil on canvas, 92.2 x 72.3 cm, Private Collection

[yeoldenews]

A selection of looks from the 18th Century equivalent of the MET Gala (aka The Queen's Drawing Room) in March 1789.

(To help with your mental images - this would have been roughly the court silhouette at the time.)

Queen Charlotte - "Was dressed in purple, silver and orange body and train; the petticoat likewise of purple and silver, richly embroidered upon crape. Her Majesty’s head-dress was the most superb and beautiful that ever appeared at Court. A bandeau of purple sattin was fastened around the cap, with a motto in diamonds of “GOD SAVE THE KING.

Round the Queen’s neck was a medallion, tied with a double row of gold chain, and across her shoulders was another chain of three rows of pearls, and five rows of diamonds fastened low behind, with a fine miniature portrait of the KING, studded with diamonds, hanging in front. The tippet was of fine lace, and fastened with the letter G. in diamonds."

The Duchess of Gordon - "White sattin, superbly spangled in gold, and drawn up with a bandeau of the most costly embroidery, imitating the sun [in] the fullness of its glory. The petticoat was festooned in a beautiful manner with branches of oak."

The Duchess of Devonshire - "A white sattin petticoat most superbly embroidered with wreaths of foil, flowers and stones, the gown of dark green sattin, richly embroidered with spangles; and a most beautiful diamond stomacher."

Lady Lloyd - "A crape petticoat, over one of white sattin, with stripes of purple velvet, ornamented with gold and stones, representing peacock feathers. The train purple, trimmed with crape.

Her Ladyship's cap had a painting, describing Britannia kneeling and offering praises to heaven for the recovery of the King, very richly ornamented with diamonds, blond, flowers, and feathers. In the front, "Dieu nous le rend," (God restores him to us,) embroidered in gold letters."

Mr. Pitt - "A green and rose striped velvet, richly embroidered with gold and silver stones; the waistcoat of white satin, embroidered as the coat."

The Hon. Mr. Edgecumbe - "A blue and brown shaded velvet, most superbly embroidered with diamonds and point lace, with beautiful bouquets of flowers; the waistcoat of white satin, embroidered the same"

Sir John Marriott - "Sea green striped velvet, with gold tissue embroidered waistcoat."

and my personal best dressed -

The Duchess of Rutland (who was making her first appearance at court since the death of her husband) - "The time allotted by the decree of fashion for customary suits of solemn black, and all the trappings of widowed woe, being expired, her Grace, lovely in her person, and attractive in her manners, came forward in all the fullness of splendor, and in imitation of the Heavens when they declare, by a rainbow, that the tears of the sky have stopped, wore a dress of embroidered crape, fashioned in such a manner as to resemble that variegated sign of an unclouded atmosphere. But we are at a loss to find out what was meant by the gold-spangled darts of lightning that appeared through this rainbow, unless that her Grace meant them as emblematical of what her eyes can do, now that the day of weeping’s over. To write, however, in more plain terms, we shall state exactly what her Grace had on. It was an embroidered crape, something in imitation of a rainbow, having variety in its colours, and being ornamented with gold spangles which really appeared like darts of lightning through the crape, and gave it a most superb appearance. Her head-dress of white crape, with a towering branch of ostrich feathers, and the motto of God save the King,  in white and gold."

(source: The Times, March 27, 1789.)

[saintslewis]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: tattoo artist!lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: in which reader needs a good tattoo artist to help her vision come to life and lewis, a mutual friend, is recommended and is more than happy to help you out.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, mentions of tattoo needles, mentions of w33d, smut (18+ mdni), pet names, just read 🫵🏽 (buckle in, frens) sorry for typos!

saint’s team radio 🎀: heyyyy! this spawned in my mind in the middle of the night and my super talented fren @mauvecherie-writes came up with this masterpiece. hope you all enjoy 🤭. (anon i hope this does your request justice!)

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @httpsserene @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @perfecttrashface @non-stop-imagines @peyiswriting @purplelewlew @alika-4466 @arshiyuh @yeea-nah @louvrepool @motheroffae @lorarri

pls like, reblog and comment! 🫶🏽

pls note, the lady in the header does not represent the reader! 🫶🏽

“You’ve been sitting there thinking so hard, I could see steam comin’ out your head.” Marie laughed as she walked close to you with two mimosas in her hand, handing one to you. The get-together she occasionally hosts with all of your mutual friends was in full swing, everyone in different corners of the huge house.

Giving her an eye roll, you sipped on the drink before answering. “Girl, fuck you.” You cussed, hearing her laugh. Following close behind her was another one of your friends, Lani. Her kitten heels clacked against the tiled floor as she sat next to you on the light blue couch.

“What’s going on, what’s the tea?” She sipped on her drink and held onto it and she looked at you. “Well my lovely friends, I’ve been thinking about getting a back tattoo for a good minute now.” You replied, leaning back into your seat as your friends gasped with excitement.

Marie held your manicured hand in excitement, “Girl oh my god, it’s going to look so good on you!”. Lani then put her drink down then sat up to look at you properly. “What you gonna get? How big?” She asked.

“A red dragon maybe. Covering the whole thing, It’s been on my mind.” You answered, looking between your excited friends. “Anddd you’re wearing a backless dress right now! Y/n, you better get this damn tattoo.” Marie said, still very much holding onto your hand.

“Anddd it’s going to look great during backshots.” Lani smiled and that earned her a smack on her arm from you.

“Stop thinkin nasty. I just want it because I think it’ll look good with all those backless clothes I got.” You admitted although the thought of it made your skin a little warm. “So what’s stopping you from getting it, bae? ‘Cause I’m excited like I’m getting it.” Marie gushed. “Can’t find a good artist around here who caters red ink for black people.” You shrugged.

It was tough trying to find tattoo artists in your city, much less those who work well with red ink. Most were extremely pricey, others worked with complicated pieces and only wanted pieces like portraits or lions or they just left you on read after attempting to make an appointment.

A moment passed by and Lani smacked your leg repeatedly as she came to a realisation. The look of unspoken excitement travelled between your friends and soon enough, you knew they were plotting something.

“Y/n, oh my goodness you genius!” Marie exclaimed and that made your eyebrows furrow even more with confusion.

“Okay, I am very confused by what is happening so I’m just going to grab another snack.” You voiced out and you couldn’t even move because both women held you down as they smiled like maniacs.

Lani nodded first then turned her head to look at you. “Okay okay. Y/n, we’ve got the perfect artist for you. D’you remember Lewis?” She grinned and you tried to think about it fully.

Lewis, Lewis…oh god, that Lewis. The incredibly beautiful man you met through your clearly unhinged friends at a housewarming party two years ago. He was that type of distant crush that would never go away even if you tried and it didn’t help that he was the quiet type who would hang out with your large friend group every now and then.

“…uh huh. What about him?” You replied, hoping that no one heard your voice almost falter at the mention of him. “He’s a tattoo artist! I don’t know how I forgot but that man just keeps to himself for real.” Lani chuckled before continuing. “But yeah anyways, he could do it for you!”

Never in a million years would you think that he would be a tattoo artist and funnily enough, his arm is filled with them. You actually had no clue what he did, always curious whenever you saw the G Wagon that he would hop into after any get-together was over.

“I don’t know, you guys. I’d have to talk to him first about everything and that seems like a lot. I don’t wanna bother the guy to squeeze in someone who has no clue what they’re doing-” You stopped your ramble once you realised that your friends were just staring at you.

“Girl, you never ramble like that unless you find a dude cute.” Marie teased as she watched you avoid eye contact with her. Smacking your lips, you shook your head and tried to appear like this news didn’t phase you.

So focused on the subject at hand, you didn’t notice that Lani was gone. Finally hearing the familiar clack of her heels, you looked up and your breath hitched. You had just denied even thinking about him but there stood Lewis, quietly chewing on his gum with a glint in his eyes as he looked at you.

With your hand still in Marie’s hold, she squeezed it as she stood up and moved to stand next to Lani. “Lewis, you remember Y/n, right? An absolute beaut.” Lani started. “Anywho, my good sis wants a tattoo and obviously, you came to my mind. Aight, see y’all later.” She continued and just like that, her and Marie disappeared.

“I’m sorry for them, they can get a lil crazy.” You spoke, offering your hand to him and he gently shook your hand with both of his large ones. “They’ve also had some green gummies so I get it.” He smiled and that alone, just sent you to another dimension.

He’s British. You made sure to make little notes along the way.

And he dressed incredibly well. Sleeveless white shirt, white cargos, air force ones and his huge tattooed arms on display. The jewellery making the outfit look all the more good.

It also didn’t help that your dress was the same shade of white as his entire outfit.

“Although we’ve briefly met before, I’m Lewis. Nice seeing you again.” He introduced himself, not breaking any eye contact with you and he could tell you weren’t expecting to see him. “Y/n. I’m sure those two already told you why they dragged you here,” You nervously smiled. “Didn’t wanna waste your time with my questions.”

“You’re good, love. Wanna sit down and talk about it?” Lewis asked, pointing to the couch you were just sitting on. This area of the house wasn’t crowded so you could hear each other clearly.

The nickname he called you by threw you into a loop, nodding at him as a response because you couldn’t come up with one on the spot.

The two of you went on to speak on everything revolving around the tattoo. Your experiences trying to find a good enough artist that you wanted to feel comfortable with, the placement of it and the design. There were all types of jokes thrown into the conversation, making you feel comfortable. He also listened, nodding and replying after you spoke.

“So I’ve got two options if I decide to chicken out of the dragon one.” You said, twiddling your fingers as you still avoided eye contact with Lewis. “Alright even though my favourite would have to be the dragon.” He winked, chewing his gum.

You flushed hearing him say that. You couldn’t imagine being naked in front of him, letting your body be a canvas he gets to work on. Of course you would like to be naked in another way but that couldn’t happen. He definitely has to have someone in his life. Would he though if he just winked at you? Or was he just playing with you because he can sense you’re shy-

“Y/n, love, you still with me?” Lewis worried a tad bit as he watched you zone out on him. Shaking yourself out of it, you were grounded by his eyes boring into yours. Clearing your throat slightly, you asked a different question. “Uh if I do go ahead with it, where will we be?”

“Right now, my studio is under renovations so I’ve got my home studio. Hope that’s okay with you, anything to help you be comfortable.” He reassured, sitting back and the sight of him just sitting so confidently had you squirming in your seat, having to cross your legs.

“That’s fine,” your voice reaching an octave higher than normal. “What was the other design, sweetie? Haven’t done a tattoo on a client in a while so I’m grateful that I’ll be the one who gets to work on this.” Lewis mentioned, watching you lose your train of thought everytime you two locked eyes and he found it quite endearing.

“…A lower back tattoo, preferably a word or a heart.” You muttered, Lani’s words running through your mind. Stop, you can’t think about that right now. “That’s a nice one.” He commented, tilting his head and admired your shyness.

Ever since he laid his eyes on you, Lewis had made it his mission to find a way to get with you. He was in awe everytime you would show at one of the many games nights or celebrations, looking effortlessly beautiful yet timid as well. He hadn’t known if you were single until a mutual friend mentioned you and blind dates in the same sentence.

Lewis thanked the universe for giving him the chance to do his favourite thing with the woman he had fancied.

After a bit more conversation, you had managed to get his number and bid goodbye to him, a very warm hug from him to you, and you hurried to your car to take several deep breaths afterwards. After not being intimate with anyone for a long while, you were embarrassed that a single conversation left you in a puddle with an all too familiar feeling in your stomach.

Consoling yourself whilst driving, you grew excited for the week ahead for the tattoo, of course.

-

Darting your eyes between your phone and the house you were currently parked outside of, you felt confused although your gps led you to the correct address.

“Sis c’mon, he wore a cartier bracelet like it was nothing.” You joked to yourself, trying to keep yourself at ease with the fact that your entire back will be filled with ink very soon.

Clearly the camera right by the gate was able to see you and the gate opened up for you. Finally parking next to the car you were familiar with, you fixed up your outfit. You tried walking to the front door with an excruciatingly slow pace to try and calm your nerves but as soon as Lewis opened the door, that all went out the window. His gaze was piercing as he leaned on the door frame, watching you twiddle with your nails and walk over to him with the same shy energy you held the other day.

“You can’t be lookin at people like that, Lewis.” You spoke with a slight smile, being welcomed into his large home. “Like how, Y/n?” He smiled as he closed the front door behind him, admiring every inch of your body.

“Like you wanna eat me alive.” You chuckled, choosing to not feel his glare on you after you said that. He chuckled as well, deciding to not comment and wanting you to be comfortable first.

“Anything you need before we start, love? You seem nervous.” Lewis asked, placing his hand on your back and lead you towards his home tattoo studio. An incredibly large room with decor that screamed Architectural Digest, the tattoo chair stitched with his initials ‘LH’ and a candle was lit, a ocean-like scent wafting through the air. You had told him that you liked that candle scent all those days ago and the fact that he remembered made you blush.

Low rnb music was playing and a calm atmosphere washed over you as soon as you entered the room.

“It’s my first big tattoo, of course i’m nervous about it.” You replied with a sigh, plopping down on the soft couch and placed your phone on the record player stand.

Playing with the band of your shorts, you knew he was looking at you from the doorway. “Also it’s a lil silly but I don’t even know if this shit will look good on me, y’know? I wanted this but i guess it’s just the nerves.” You continued.

Not even hearing him move from his spot, you lifted your head to see him crouched down in front of you. His tattooed hands landed on your thighs without breaking eye contact with you. “Can I tell you what I think?” He asked. All you could do was nod. He hadn’t touched you in the way you wanted but in an instant, you could feel a puddle forming.

“On you, it will be the best piece I’ve done because it was made to sit on your body. A canvas that people will get to admire, a canvas that you’ve given me the honour to work on.” He continued, hands barely moving from your legs.

Taking a breath, you finally got the strength to respond to what he said. “Are you always this poetic to your clients?” You tried to joke but his eyes were glued to yours, the same way he looked at you at the housewarming.

“It took me a while to garner the confidence to talk to you, to just be in your presence. Every time I had the luck to see you, I would cherish it because we wouldn’t be in the same room all the time. I want the time we have here to be meaningful. And before you make that adorable timid face, yes, I have always found you attractive.” He spoke and you were just speechless.

“Are you serious?” You managed to speak, your voice becoming softer the more you accepted everything he was saying.

“Would you like me to show you how serious I am about you?” Lewis shifted his legs so that he could kneel in front of you. You could see the truth in his eyes as he spoke, darting between your eyes and lips.

You whimpered and you couldn’t control it, his hold on you was so strong.

“I need your words, princess.”

“Please. Please show me, Lewis.” You whined out.

That was all it took for him to begin to reach for the band of your shorts but you put your hands on his to stop. His eyebrows furrowed and before he spoke, you went for it. “Kiss me.” You breathed out. Lewis stood to his full height then sat on the couch next to you, pulling you onto his lap.

You made the first move and leaned in, your lips moving together in sync as he kissed you passionately. His hand held the back of your neck, bringing even closer while his other hand trailed down your arched back.

Your whimpers echoed throughout his home studio as he pulled away from the kiss, watching you try and grind to get some sort of pleasure in. Gently putting his hands on your waist, he guided you and you gasped as you felt his length, long and hard. Just waiting for you.

It felt unbearable, a knot in your stomach needed to be released and you threw you head back, just wanting to wash over the arousal. Lewis watched how you pleasured yourself on him, your denim clothes restricting the both of you from connecting skin to skin. “You enjoying yourself, darling?” He licked his lips, looking up at you with dark eyes clouded with lust.

You wanted to respond, desperately, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. The warmth from the two of you became stronger, him leaning up to begin peppering kisses on your necks and not wanting to create any marks just yet. “..Yes.” You managed to breathe out and you loved the feeling of his large hands roaming around your body, not able to get enough of you.

Lewis held your hips firmly, halting your movement and that made you want to cry out of not getting a release. “Lewis, please.” You whined and he chuckled against your neck. “Take your clothes off and lie down, princess.” He said, looking at your cute angry face with a slight pout evident.

Instead of doing what he said, you just looked at him in the eyes clearly wanting to start a challenge. However, he knew his gaze made you weak. It was one of his many charms. All he had to do was slightly tilt his head and it had you standing up and slowly taking your clothes off, him following suit. You oggled at him, his tattoos gracefully placed on his skin making your mouth water.

With you laid down on the couch, he crawled up your body and crashed his lips into yours. He held your neck so gently as he kissed your jawline then your neck all the way down to where you needed him the most. Lewis laid between your legs to admire your clothed core, giving praise to your thighs and ass as he planted a kiss on your inner thighs.

“Oh shit…” you gasped as he started licking all around your clit until he planted his mouth on it, your moans bouncing off the walls as Lewis devoured you like you were his dinner. Sticking his tongue in and fucking you with it was really the cherry on top, your hand flying to his head to keep it in place and you ground into his face.

Screaming as he entered two fingers in your pussy, you felt a tear slide down at the immense pleasure he was giving you. It had been a very long time since someone had gone down on you but never had you orgasmed from head before. Until now.

Lewis licked you clean as he climbed up and kissed you so that you could taste yourself. You could tell he wanted to say something but you reached your hand to palm him through his pants, watching the different expressions on his face. Slapping the side of your thigh, he held your face.

“Bend over for me, princess.” With a smile on his face and you knew you were going to be here a while.

-

The buzzing of the tattoo gun sounded out through the room, Lewis wiped the dripping ink from his canvas. He was doing the last bit of work to fully complete his piece on you, the ink contrasting beautifully with your skin.

Finally switching it off and clearing his station to prepare for the clean up and to place the plastic cover on, he lightly smacked your ass to wake you up. “Darling, we’re finally done.” Lewis softly said, already focused on the clean up.

You hummed, “That’s amazing, baby. Thank you.” You spoke all drowsy from the nap you took earlier and the buzzing feeling of your body even after the tattooing gun isn’t touching your skin. Not to mention the sativa joint you smoked together before the final session.

You and Lewis kept this arrangement going, him saying that once he finished his artwork on your back, he’d take you on a date to wherever you want to go and you agreed. The mutual crush you had on each other transcended to a different level, becoming almost domestic every moment you spent together.

“Can I see it?” You asked, rising up from the chair and you looked at him while batting your eyelashes. “Of course you can, princess.” Lewis leaned down to peck your lips then led you to the mirror. You gasped when you saw your dream tattoo, sitting perfectly on your back and your mind was running wild with thoughts already.

“The backshots with this tattoo are going to be amazing.” You giggled and he just rolled his eyes. “Okay that’s enough weed for you, baby.” Lewis chuckled then lightly tapped your ass.

“You were thinking it though!”

saint’s notes 🪩: mind you this has been sitting here since feb 🧍🏽‍♀️. this is dedicated to @mauvecherie-writes , thank you for your patience fren 🤭 and yes the monaco fit made me go feral.