#precious moments jewellery

[dolcevalentinaofficial]

Celebrate Milestones with Personalised Engraved Baby Bracelets — A Timeless Keepsake

Welcome to the world of timeless treasures for your little ones! Personalised baby jewellery, particularly engraved baby bracelets, offers a unique and heartfelt way to celebrate the precious moments of your baby’s early years. In this article, we’ll delve into the charm of personalised baby jewellery and explore why engraved baby bracelets make for a perfect keepsake.

The Significance of Personalised Baby Jewellery:

In the delightful journey of parenthood, finding meaningful ways to celebrate each milestone becomes essential. Personalised baby jewellery goes beyond being just adornments; they are expressions of love and individuality. From birthstone pendants to customised name bracelets, these pieces carry sentimental value that lasts a lifetime.

Capturing Memories with Engraved Baby Bracelets:

Engraved baby bracelets elevate personalisation to a new level, creating a lasting memory in a tangible form. Whether it’s your baby’s name, birthdate, or a special message, the fine art of engraving transforms a simple bracelet into a cherished memento. These delicate pieces not only adorn your baby but also encapsulate the uniqueness of their early years.

Quality Craftsmanship and Materials Matter:

When it comes to personalised baby jewellery, quality craftsmanship and materials are paramount. Opt for bracelets crafted from durable materials like sterling silver or gold for longevity and safety. The meticulous attention to detail in the engraving process ensures a clear and enduring impression, making the jewellery both beautiful and safe for your little one.

Conclusion:

As you explore the world of personalised baby jewellery, consider the enduring charm of engraved baby bracelets. These timeless keepsakes not only adorn your baby with elegance but also capture the essence of their earliest moments.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write How would jacaerys, aemond, benjicot, and cregan court the reader? Thank youuu

Benjicot Blackwood was a kind man, a sweetheart to you, a lite awkward but he made it endearing and sweet.

Benjicot knew that there was only so much that his house could offer you in comparison to other houses, but he made sure that you were never alone as he was always by your side; providing you with his company all the while making you well versed with Raventree Hall and all it encompassed.

He treated you better then most men of the realm by treating you with respect and dignity which meant a lot more to you then meaningless expensive gifts of jewellery, as you knew that with Ben you’d be treated as a living breathing human, rather then be considered a possession out of duty.

Benjicot practically worshiped you and the ground you walked on. He was loyal to you and only you and he made that evident with how often he spoke about you in high regard as he stands by your side strong and firm like an oak tree. Benjicot would gladly go down fighting for you for your courting meant that much to him as he just wants to prove to you that he would forever be the better choice in suitor.

Which he is, he definitely is. He’s the perfect man and would treat you like you were the one sat upon the iron throne.

He’s probably the one to ask your father to court you before anyone else could get you before him, he’s determined to have you as his spouse but does it in the most sweetest and respectful way possible that would end up making you melt.

Benjicot didn’t need to be the richest man in Westeros to win you over because his words and his actions spoke louder than meaningless transactions of coin. He would defend you to his last breath while holding you in his arms as he kisses you.

Benjicot was like a warm fireplace as you burrowed your head into his neck, never having felt safer then you did in his arms as he whispered sweet honeyed words of how he’d protect and watch over you as you sleep.

The man would raise hell if you’d come to harm but that’s something you were made well aware of and had you finding safety in his arms faster then most.

Aemond Targaryen could be a possessive man when it came to courting you, such as blessing you with his gifts of jewellery that bore the same blue sapphire that was embedded into his face, a stark reminder to all who had your heart.

He trusts you, which was rarity on its own, but he didn’t trust everyone else. and so if he found out that someone was encroaching on what was his? Aemond would be quick to make an example of them during his training sessions, making sure that there would be enough eyes to witness the persons humiliation -yours included- as he effortlessly knocked them down within minutes.

Aemond expressed his interest in very unique ways and would bolster the fact that he rides the largest dragon in Westeros. -Reader and cannibal from my other series would scoff at this- along with how much safer you were with him, and he would tell you how he’d gladly set towns aflame if anything were to happen with you with a deadpan face.

He keeps a close eye on you that it’s borderline suffocating but at least you’ll have someone who’ll immediately know what you were feeling through sheer observation, where he’d take you aside and show a softer side to you as he asks you how he could help you feel better.

Aemond could be soft if he wanted but I think the biggest sign that he was certain he wanted to be with you and that’s by showing you his sapphire eye. He’s very much still insecure about it despite it being so long and so many things had happened since then but old scars tend to hurt in moments of nostalgia, and so when he showed you his sapphire eye, it means he takes your courtship seriously and hopes that you think the same.

Jacaerys Velaryon is the epitome of a gentleman.

His mother raised him well as he treated you as though you were the most precious person in his life, which you very much were.

He’d gladly wake up at weird times of night if you were ever in need of anything and he could do something about it, such as sneaking towards the kitchen on Dragonstone for lemon cakes or something to drink.

Anything your heart wanted, Jace would get it for you tenfold, no matter how far he’d have to go to get it. If it was for you then Jace would gladly fly to the far reaches of Westeros to get it.

Flights on Vermax were a common thing between you and Jace so much that Vermax was well acquainted with you and grew to love you, much to Jace’s relief. He loved it whether you held onto him as tightly as possible, even after he reassured you that no harm could come to you on Vermax, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of you pressed up close against his back.

He’s quick to take up arms if anyone were to ever speak a threat towards you. No hesitation, he will fight on your behalf because he wouldn’t dare let anyone get away with saying such foul words against you.

‘Their words should mean little to you,’ he’d tell you as he holds your face in his hands, making sure that you were looking him directly in the eyes. ‘ for you are far more then what they say and I will not have you echo their words either, an insult on you might as well be an insult to me too.’ He then presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘I will not allow others to tear you down as you deserved to be lifted up.’

Jace is a man of his word and he’s never go back on it ever. He was loyal and honourable man who’d eyes never left yours as he awakes in the morning, ready to think of new ways to spoil you absolutely rotten.

Cregan Stark is another man who’d treat you far better than most in the realm.

He would most likely get you a Direwolf pup when he came across one mourning its dead mother, finding the star shape mark on its forehead interesting, before gently scooping it up and taking it home with him to bring to you.

You named the Direwolf Astarion.

Cregan would make sure you’d have the best equality furs possible to keep out the cold weather of Winterfell whether for your shared chamber or to wear outside the castle. He knew that the cold wasn’t for everybody and would much rather you be comfortable during your stay at what would possibly be your future home should your courting go well.

Cregan would probably gift you flowers that had adapted to surviving in the cold winter whenever he was out hunting.

‘For the most beautiful soul in the realm.’ He’d say as he handed them over to you, smiling as you took them in with a smile of your own. He’s truly a sap with you and you wouldn’t want it any other way as having a man as notoriously stoic and duty driven, but yet be so soft and carful of you was enough to get you weak on the knees.

He’s devoted to you and you alone and it showed in the softer moments you shared where he looked at you as though you were the muse for the most beautiful artwork in Westeros today. He could be quite clingy also but you weren’t complaining when you had a man as pretty as him keeping you against his chest, reminding you that his heart beats for you as he lists off many reasons he desires you.

[persicipen]

pearls ノ sunday

ৎ୭ — · · 1.2k ノ fem reader — pussy slapping . teasing ノ in front of a mirror ノ sunday buys you gifts — a necklace ノ he’s a little tired but a freak anyway ノ ambiguous relationship . implied soft dom sub dynamic ノ petnames — darling . dearest . dove

The fingers that belong to the young family leader circle your nape, a feather-like touch despite his own wings taut along his locks, a silvery wave of silk falling on his shoulders. Although your new necklace is loose, pearls sitting lazily on your collarbones, it feels like a collar — a tight rope around your neck, squeezing hard every time you try to pull away from him and he brings you back with a stern tug of the invisible leash.

Sunday loves you, though, right? A lover that keeps you safe, forever excited about new gifts and everything he could do for you if only you had asked.

But you’re silent.

Obedient, the right word. That is true, he would enjoy seeing you break out of his rule, but he prefers you more so nice and quiet, always ready for his commands. He himself doesn’t know how would he react if you were to deny him. Would it spark a fury in him? A despair? Lust, even?

Doesn’t matter.

What matters now is that you’re smiling so dearly in the mirror, seeing yourself with a new jewellery, a shining set of pearls brought to you from Lushanka, the oceanic planet. An expensive proof of ownership, that is.

Gently pressing on his crotch, he knows that you crave only one thing right now — something he cannot give you, not when he’s so frustrated and pensive.

Next to you, there’s a broken shell of a man, eyes empty a worn-out dinner plate instead of a plate of gold. Constant meetings filling every system hour of his routine, nibbling at his humanity, piece by piece, devouring what’s left serene in him. But he always has time for you. You bring a sliver of solace into his day, the light in his life, and your soul is more important than any wealth, any political acquisition. He wants to be the perfect man for you — for now, at least when the family still allows him to have that tiny drop of freedom where he can do as he pleases, with whoever he wants to spend the time.

With the other hand, he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone, the reflection in the mirror immediately following his action, tilting your head to look at him. Your pupils are dilated, lips parted, a fine line of sweat rolling down your forehead as you take his form into your vision. You hold yourself still, making sure to not interrupt his moment of yearning. You feel pity, yes, but simultaneously, there is something dark seeping through your thoughts, whispering how you shouldn’t complain about the circumstances. Not whilst you’re being kept warm and pampered by one of the finest men in Penacony.

That’s correct. He’s not even yours, the richest young family leader, meant to be loved by many and to never have anyone truly on his side. People usually do admire him — for his wit, charisma, and some are very fortunate to be graced with his handsome face up close if They’re his personal retainers. But you? He wants something more from you. The unspoken desire woven into the thread that keeps the pearls in place around your neck.

“Aren’t you just my darling?” Sunday murmurs in a soothing manner as his eyes dart down your neck, brushing his fingers over the lustrous beads once again. “My gift looks divine on you. Are you feeling happy, my dearest?”

“The happiest I could ever be.”

He’s absolutely delighted to see how well you’ve grown used to being around him — his ever-changing moods that sometimes turn sour, and how much better you are than anyone else that isn’t family. But that is the problem.

Sunday’s hands tremble against your collarbones, pressing on them tight as if to brace you for something he has yet to tell you.

You want to reply, to let him know that you are delighted to be given such a precious gift. However, the collar wraps tighter around your throat, the fine edge digging into your skin. You can’t help but give out a whimper at the sudden tightness. It doesn’t take long for the young man to catch on the look of discomfort in your eyes, letting out a soft chuckle as he releases the pressure on your neck. Instead, his fingers move further down, taking ahold of your nipple and giving it a slight pinch.

“I will take it that you love my gift. Very much,” he hums as he plays with your breasts, kneading them, and kissing along your jawline. His soft lips are so warm against your skin, it is almost relaxing until you feel something cold rubbing between your thighs.

Looking down, you can see his hand playing with the fabric of your panties, before his fingers find its way to the hidden clit, urging it to reveal itself with gentle strokes and caresses. In parallel, he begins to rub his crotch against your ass, wanting to give himself some form of relief until he’s done toying with your sensitive nub.

A tap. Catching you by surprise, his fingers patting flat against your flesh, parting the petals to deliver a proper spank to your pussy. In the sudden bloom of sensations, your body jolts forward, letting his hand dip further between your legs — making you open for another slap.

The salacious, squelching sounds have him clicking his tongue.

“Getting wet this urgently, yes? I’ve only just started touching you,” he whispers in your ear, the amusement apparent in his tone. “Are you perhaps a pervert, hm? Or did my sweet dove get so aroused just from looking at us in the mirror?”

Sunday slips a hand underneath the silk, gripping your inner thigh to stop you from closing your legs any further. While you aren’t really the type to get embarrassed by your own reactions, right now you can’t help but feel shame when you are met with his victorious smile as he values your beauty through the reflection.

“It’s alright, I love it when you get so worked up from the simplest things,” he chuckles before blowing a wisp of air into your earlobe. He doesn’t linger there for long and soon enough, he is peppering your neck with wet kisses, grazing your skin in a cordial manner.

It is known just how much you appreciate being spoiled with little affectionate gestures, melting with each and every token that the angelic lover grants you on every occasion.

Pulling his hand away from your core, he gives your panties one last pat, admiring how the damp fabric clings to your lips, illustrating your arousal.

“Did you know? Every pearl has a different kind of pattern and they are each unique,” he whispers before wrapping his fingers around your collar, his golden eyes staring into yours. “You’re the only one who will ever own a pair of pearls identical to these, my darling. Just like I own this one…” With that confession, his fingers pinch your clit through the silk, pulling it up to jab into your puffy cunt with the stretched underwear.

[venomnyx]

How do you think Logan would propose?

Ohh! I've had a few thoughts about this!! Thank you for asking! For others, requests are open!

Logan Howlett Proposal HC's WC: 330

-> I believe he knows you're the one, and will have a ring on hand for months, maybe even years, before he presents it to you. It's not a case of if he will marry you— but when. -> Above all else, his deepest fear is losing those he loves, so he'll hold back on proposing out of fear/insecurity. His commitment issues toward proposing will spur not from fear of love, but fear of losing you/dragging you into a life you don't deserve. -> He's traditional in some sense of the word, and would likely ask for somebody's approval before asking. If your parents or any parental figures are around, he'll go to them first. If you're another professor at the school, he'll likely seek out Charles. -> He's romantic, sure— but I don't think there'd be an elaborate plan to propose to you. As I said, he's been holding onto this ring for months, so it'll likely be a spur-of-the-moment thing. A deep knowing that now is the right time. -> It'll be private and domestic. Think of a special, quiet moment: cooking together in the kitchen, tending to each other's wounds after a mission— something deeply personal and emotional. A promise to protect you forever; a sworn oath to be by your side for as long as you'll let him. There's nobody else he'd rather return home to. -> The ring would be something simple. A simple band in your preferred precious metal (he'd pick based on whether you wear gold or silver jewellery) and a teardrop diamond. I reckon he could try his hand at craftsmanship and create the ring himself out of a crystal he found/knows is special to you. His love language is for sure collecting things from missions he thinks you'll like.

-> He'd likely wear a matching band around a chain on his neck to prevent it from catching on his claws. It's certainly a nice sight to see hovering over you— if you catch my drift.

[just-some-user-hunny]

Platonic yandere Rhaenyra as your mother...

~ The moment she laid eyes upon you, she helplessly fell in love. All the anger and shock towards Daemon took a backseat to her emotions the moment she saw you- her breath stuttering in her throat as her own amethyst eyes settled upon the wailing girl in the mad prince's arms. No woman is keen upon the idea of their other half returning with a child that they've had behind their back, but the sight of a girl- a daughter, for her, settled her decision at once. It's unlikely for her to take out her frustrations out on you, and something about your tearful little face and upset cries for your mother made her want to take you into her arms at once to soothe you. She didn't care at all about you being a bastard, all she could see was a daughter. Hers.

~ Rhaenyra would spoil you. Gifting you dresses and jewellery and books and fine silk threads, and always wearing an adoring twinkle in her eyes whenever she sees you. Rhaenyra herself loves her precious gems and fine luxurious dresses, and now with her own little girl, you bet you're getting spoiled. She'd also love seeing her dear boys get along with you, further fueling her delusions that you're her own child. She'll call her 'my dearest love' and 'sweet girl' , a cautious protective arm always within reaching distance of you if things get heated at the dining table during rowdy family dinners.

~ she's often the one to smoothe your anger and sadness over when it comes to your conflict with Daemon, your father. He is always the one to dish out punishments and restrictions, and in his stead, she'll be the one to lather you with comfort and alternatives. As a child she'd carry you in her arms, wiping away your tearfulness and promising you a ride with Syrax after Daemon forbids you from riding your own dragon for a week. That dynamic fits well with them. Essentially, Daemon is The bad cop, and she is the good cop.

~ as a child, you were very against this woman mothering you when you missed your one mother at home. However you may eventually grow soft to Rhaenyra, even if it's unintentionally done. She's so attentive and gentle towards you, it's hard not to seek out her comfort- even if most of it is dismissive and performative to keep you calm. She'd happily braid your hair if you wish to go riding upon horse or dragon-back, and always with a smile upon her face.

~ Rhaenyra soothing you whenever you fights with her father, Daemon. She is firm, but gentle, the perfect salve to Daemons cruelty and coldness. He has always stood strong and confident, and the powerlessness you'd feel around him would both infuriate you, and make you feel hopeless. Rhaenyra is always there for the aftermath, to distract you from the sadness brewing in your chest. Squeezing your hand beneath the table as you all eat your meals together, your presence always insisted upon by Viserys and Daemon.

~ she'd be a fiercely protective mother. As you grow older, transitioning from her little girl to a young woman, she'd be very against any arranged marriages. If she could, she'd keep you at home forever, single and happy- or free to love whoever you like as long as they are approved by her and Daemon and that you remain at home with them.

Thankfully, due to your bastard heritage, you have no political duty to marry, and are therefore free from being wed for gain. (Sure, you'll never seat the iron throne, but as a woman in those times everything was cut-throat. You may as well have a taste of freedom)

~ Syrax is just as doting. You're her riders little girl, and that maternal feeling would come through both Rhaenary, and syrax. The large golden dragon will chirp and purr in your presence, bowing her head to sniff and gently prod at you- like a doting mother.

"Darling, are you joining us for lunch?"

"For the afternoon".

Rhae smiled warmly, watching you pet Syrax- who gazed upon the princess with passive golden eyes. Crooning gently into your touch, before retreating softly. Rhaenyra approaches soon after- peeling her riding gloves off before taking your face within the cradle of your palms and kissing your brow. 1...2...3, a mantra of soft kisses laid upon your face before she steps back to look at you. Her smile is genuine and warm.

~ As the dance of the dragon approaches, the more protective and demanding she becomes. Suddenly your dragon riding time is limited, especially after Luke's death :( the moment you even suggested leaving upon dragon-back to get some fresh air in the clouds she snaps almost tearfully, composing herself shortly afterwards, and then sending you outside upon the balcony with a guard. A pleading look in her eyes begging you not to disobey her, for her sake, please. She cannot lose you as well.

~ She becomes especially paranoid about team green snatching you away, as both teams are obsessed with keeping you on their sides amidst the approach of war. The amount of kingsguard that stand position outside your chambers every night, hell, even accompanying you around the castle increases. You seldom have a moment to yourself without a lady in waiting heel-to-heel with you, or a towering armoured knight breathing down your neck.

Even with Daemon gone, you're still trapped within the castle.

~ Bastard!princess reader wants nothing to do with this war, and although she may have created a connection to Rhaenyra and Jace and her twin sisters, she may see this as an opportunity to finally leave. Escape would be difficult, near impossible, but not out of the question. You still have your dragon at your call, so you may find a way to slip away and find a way to get to your dragon to escape.

Everyone would go mad however, almost putting a pause on the conflict to go out and find you. Be warned that Daemon and Rhaenyra would immediately go seek your hometown and mother and brothers (that is, if they are still alive), so you'd have to be smart with slipping from their grasps.

~ To the end Rhaenyra will hold onto you dearly like her life-line, committed to being your mother, regardless of your feelings or circumstance. Even as she is burnt, she will not cry or scream- only thinking of everything that she has lost. How she failed you, and everyone she ever held close.

(under the scenario that in the end you did leave and vanish, or worse, got killed in the conflict).

[brummiereader]

Binding Love (Part Two/Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a morning of relentless mulling over your fractured marriage and place in the world, you make a quick dash out the front door before Tommy learns of your plans for the day. But when your daughter's inquisitive mind reveals your intentions, Tommy's paranoia turns its ugly head.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst.

Word Count: 3.5K

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

" Thank you, Frances" you smiled to your housekeeper in the mirror of your vanity, fingers cradling the cold mug of ginger tea cupped within your hands, you hoped would help you sleep the night before as she finished placing the last of the spindly wired pins in your hair.

" Mam" she laid the small leafed dish of jewellery in front of you as you placed each precious gem to your skin, when the faint clanging of the last piece rattled against the ceramic plate with a brush of your fingers.

" Oh..." your eyes drifted down to your wedding ring sitting lonesome along the ridges of the handmade keepsake. The corners of your lips turning down in sadness at the ache the circular band still managed to pull within your chest.

Something so small, so simple, yet it held the weight of a decade's worth of memories. And although your husband's hand was still adorned with the gold band of vows you had made, yours wasn't. Only the lingering indent of where it once sat remained, embedded into your skin as a reminder of who you'd forever be bound to through the years of your youth you had spent together.

" Right" you rose from your seat, brushing the tear that had settled within the curls of your lashes as you made your way over to your wardrobe.

Hands brushing along the dozens of gowns hand-sewn with lace and sequins, your eyes drifted to a lone shirt of Tommy's nestled between the fabric of your clothes that had gone unnoticed when separating your belongings.

Fuck sake, you sighed to yourself at the constant reminder of his presence, releasing a stifled cry when the lasting notes of his cologne drifted towards you as you pulled it out from within your wardrobe, tightly clutching the cuffs of its arms within the palms of your hands.

You could have moved to one of the many guest rooms. But Tommy had insisted. Was it his way of making you remember, making sure you didn't forget?, your own paranoia began to nag you about the room that suffocated you every night with the reminder of the love that was shared in it, the passionate nights that once filled it.

" This one will do" you abruptly shoved it to the back of the cupboard in favour of a blouse, pulling yourself from recounting the blissful moments you found yourself gazing at through rose-tinted glasses, forgetting the reality of how dire things had become.

Happy times had been replaced with a darkened mood, an unpredictable temper that would sway back and forth to the sound of the pendulum in your foyer to whatever had displeased its owner. For when Tommy's mood was good, it was good. And when it was bad, it was very, fucking, bad.

Deciding to no longer be the kept woman, the woman that had barely a thought to herself her husband hadn't invaded, you had come to the realisation that it would be your responsibility to pull yourself out of the limbo Tommy was intent on keeping you in.

"It's quite chilly outside, Mam. Perhaps something a little warmer?" Frances voiced as her hurried steps raced towards you in a panic after noting the sheerness of the top you had chosen, sheer enough to see a peak of thrills from your brassiere.

" They say it will be mild later today" you shrugged off your gown into a bundle of fabric on the floor as you caught the worrying concern in her eyes.

" Perhaps, perhaps a cardigan then, if it gets too...cold" you relented, watching the relief wash over her as she eagerly searched behind you for a wooly garment that would cover you enough to get you through the front door without your husbands raging jealously making itself known to all those unfortunate enough to be within close vicinity.

" That's better" Frances adjusted the back of your fleecy shawl as you looked at the reflection of yourself in the weathered glass of your bedroom window, pulling the buttoned clothing around the curves of your chest.

Still, a kept woman.

" Elsie, come on! We're going to be late!" you called up the stairs, furiously tugging at the prickling fabric of your cardigan, itching the back of your neck as you paced the foyer. Eager to get going before the sound of your husband's phone call ended, and he learnt of your day's plans.

" Where's my pony? I can't find it!" You heard an avalanche of toys being tossed onto the wooden floors of her bedroom as she searched for her most cherished of toys.

Come on, come on, your body began to panic as you rolled forward from your heel to your toes to see the back of your husband drifting left and right between the crack in the door, receiver still in hand as he gave his orders to the poor soul on the opposite end of the line.

" Elsie!" You called after your six-year-old for a second time, perching on the bottom step of Arrow Houses's grand staircase as your head craned up to see what was taking her so long, when her bouncing curls and plump cheeks suddenly appeared, hopping down each wooden slab with her treasured horse in hand.

" Go, go, go" you ushered her along, simultaneously attempting to tie her hair into a plated braid with each skipping step of her booted feet along the marble floor as your eyes nervously darted to Tommy's office that had now, suddenly gone quiet.

" Ow Mummy, you're hurting me!" Her hand flew to her head in protest as you tried to twist the band around to keep her hair in place.

" I'm sorry darling, but we'll be late for the bus and Mummy's interview if we don't get moving" you winced as the skin of your fingers dragged along the tight elastic, finally pulling the last of her locks through.

" Daddy!" She screeched, turning her head and feet to the sight of Tommy appearing from behind his office door.

Shit.

" Morning princess" a smile grew on his face as she bounded into him, squeezing her little arms around his waist as he shuffled forward from foot to foot until he reached you, inches from making it out the door before the interrogations began.

" Sweetheart" he pressed a longing kiss to the side of your head, hand threading into the locks of your hair as you shrugged away from the charade of a happily married couple he was adamant on maintaining in front of your daughter.

" Car's waiting outside" he said as his fingers settled on Elsie's shoulders stood behind her, her petite hands clutching onto his as his eyes roamed over your choice of outfit.

"But mummy said we're taking the bus" your daughter pouted up to the frown of confusion creasing on Tommy's forehead.

" The bus?" Your husband's eyes darted up to you as you adjusted the bag in your hand, feeling the familiar heat of his piercing stare begin to burn your face.

" I thought you were meeting Linda and Ada to go over her wedding plans?" Tommy's frown stayed firmly knitted between his brows as he watched your fumbling fingers pull out your small silver pocket mirror, wiping the corners of your ruby-stained lips.

"Well, won't you need the car for that?" You heard a heavy sigh of irritation follow his questions at your silence. The small brown haired barrier between you both, stopping him from letting his annoyance slip and forcefully demanding it from you instead. " Y/N?"

" I have somewhere to be first" you snapped the mirror shut as you cleared your throat, when the innocence of your daughter's curious mind revealed your true plans for the day.

" What's an interview?"

Double shit.

"You have a job interview?" Tommy scoffed a stifled laugh of disbelief, shaking his head as his veiny hands straining with annoyance came up to brush down his mouth.

" Something Mummy has no business in doing, Elsie" the tone of his voice deepened, scolding you through his reply to your daughter's inquisitive mind.

You were slipping further away from him with each passing day. Why wasn't he told about this? He was slacking, his men slacking, Tommy thought to himself as his breath became heavy, his shoulders tensing with anger as you continued to ignore his questions to pat the creases that had already begun to appear in your daughter's school dress when Tommy's eyes suddenly darted to the blouse you had chosen, peaking through the open button of your cardigan that had slipped through its hole.

" An interview" he quietly mumbled with a breathy exhale of suspicion as you quickly pulled the front of your top around your chest.

Rising to your feet, your eyes caught sight of his glaring anger in the silence that weighed heavy between you. A stare intent enough to have you believe that it was you, who had done something so atrocious, that it deserved his sour reaction.

" Elsie, what do you think of Mummy's new...clothes?" Tommy broke the tension as his eyes stayed firmly fixed on you, using your daughter to have his displeasure with your outfit made known.

" Pretty" she grinned a toothy smile as her hands reached out to feel the soft fabric. " Like the feather dancers at Uncle Arthur's work" she blushed shyly at the beauty her mother radiated and the many sparkling jewels that adorned your skin she dreamed you'd one day let her wear.

" Thank you, my sweet girl" you stepped forward, brushing your fingers through the locks of her hair when your eyes cast up to the protruding bone of your husband's jaw inches from your face, his heavy breath fanning across your lips.

" Go get your school bag, love" Tommy let go of your daughter's shoulders as she merrily skipped away from the gap he was closing between you.

" Feather dancers. So a whore, then?" He mumbled through gritted teeth as he pulled the front of your cardigan to the side, fingers sweeping under the top of your exposed lingerie. " You gonna whore yourself out for this job too, eh?" He cocked a brow as you pushed past him.

" It's just fabric, Tommy" you straightened your clothes as you waited on your daughter.

" Elsie, come on, let's go" you urgently reached your hand out for her to take as she fumbled with her coat when Tommy abruptly pulled you back into his body.

" What happened to you, hm? I don't even fucking recognise you anymore" you felt his grip tighten around your arm as he quietly voiced his opinion on what he believed was a change in your personality.

"What I wear is no longer your concern, now is it Tommy?" You responded in a hushed voice as you pulled away to your daughter patiently waiting by the door.

"I'll race you there" you smiled down at your dimpled cheeked child as she eagerly nodded her head.

" We have a whole fleet of cars, Y/N. Y/N!" He called after you, hands on hips as he stood at the bottom of the winding stairs. Watching you jog off with your giggling six- year-old before his eyes flew up to the second floor and the paranoia he needed to settle.

" You're late" Linda clicked her tongue, patting the seat beside her as you arrived in a tangled mess of hair, slipping garments and rolling eyes at the soon-to-be Shelby members' orderly manner.

" First, let's go over the itinerary" she pulled out a floral notebook, her fingers scrolling down the many pages or arrangements she had already made for her big day.

" Goodness Linda, can we not have some tea, or perhaps something a little stronger to get us through this joyous occasion" Ada sent you a playful wink as you shrugged off your bag, settling into the chair between them.

" How are you?" Your sister-in-law probed, quickly noting the deep bags of exhaustion under your eyes and the heavy sigh accompanying them. " Let me guess, my dear brother?"

" He went and pulled a Tommy special again, Ada" your hand trembled up to your brow, pinching the six months worth of stress you couldn't seem to rid yourself of.

Shakey hands, sleepless nights, you thought to yourself, burying your fingers under your legs to hide your rattling nerves. Was it all worth it?

" Yes, I did hear about that" she sent you a sympathetic smile of understanding. Knowing the lengths her brother would go to make his point, as he continued to stubbornly dig his heels in.

" I think the whole of Birmingham did" a sudden wave of shame reddened your cheeks with the learnt knowledge that every living soul in the fogged city was now aware of your and Tommy's strained relationship.

"It's been postponed, the...divorce that is" you mumbled, barely able to mutter the catalyst that caused said blaring row. The word alone, causing your stomach to twist into an unbearable ache for the love that was still there for him.

"And your interview, this morning?" Ada's attempt to change the heavy topic of conversation was gratefully welcomed when a smile began to dimple into your cheeks. For your trusted sister-in-law had seen the stress the separation had put on you, been at the brunt end of her brother's phone calls as he accused her of spurring on your decision to end the marriage.

"I got the job" you scooted your hands from their numbing position, fingers brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as she matched the excited grin on your lips.

" I'm meeting him, my boss, for drinks later. To go over the finer details, and in celebration for his newly hired typist...me" you giggled as a surge of confidence bubbled in your stomach at your first step into becoming an independent woman when Ada's smile suddenly dropped.

" Him...drinks?" her eyes began to widen, darting to the side of your cheery smile at the young peaked cap man sat a couple of tables behind, tipping his hat before slipping away.

"Y/N perhaps drinks are not..."

" Ephesians chapter five, verse two..." Linda interjected into the conversation her rosey notebook had taken all her attention with.

" Ada, what is it?" your brow creased, ignoring the beginnings of Linda's religious lecture, her eyes snapping back to you as she swiftly clutched her fingers around your hand.

"Ada?" You quietly mouthed when your gaze drifted over the concern filling her sapphire eyes, the same concern you saw in France's that very morning, the realisation your giddy stupidity had clouded, suddenly hitting you.

It was just a drink to celebrate, he didn't have to know? And if he found out, surely he'd understand? It was a new job, you couldn't turn the offer down, it would be impolite. You were separated...you and Tommy separated.

" Wives, submit to your own husband. As to the lord..." Linda's ill-timed words of advice drifted to you as you released your hand from Ada's clutches.

As the continued martial counsel buzzed relentlessly in your ear, you let your body slump into the cushioned fabric of your chair until the drowning religious verses muffled with the sounds of twirling spoons tapping against their porcelain tea cups, scrapping knives cutting freshly baked cakes until nothingness, complete silence.

How could you have been so stupid? So naive to have thought you could support your daughter on a mere typist's wage? That Tommy wouldn't move heaven and earth before he'd see the likes of you working so closely with another man? That word wouldn't get back to him about your planned drinks?, you thought to yourself as the distant sound of Ada calling your name echoed through each delayed blink of your welling eyes.

Divorce, another one of your stupid ideas, from your stupid list of stupid things you thought you could achieve, you continued your onslaught of self-inflicted insults as a tear rolled down the slope of your cheek.

And the worst thing about it all, about the whole fucking ordeal...you still loved him. Still, hopelessly in love with him. Pathetic, a hand shook your arm as your head cast down, remembering the cascade of decisions that had everything fall apart.

For when you no longer needed the guiding hand of your husband, his opinions nor protection as you began to blossom into a woman and spread your wings, came Tommy's paranoia. Fear of losing you to life's wonders, to another man, your husband's clutches began to tighten to the unbearable point where every waking breath wasn't without him looming behind you.

And yet you soldiered through, the thought of separation too torturous to contemplate as he continued to tighten his chains around you until he pushed you to the point where a tearful outburst had you asking for the dreaded seven letter word, an outburst that finally had you seeing the man your husband had kept in the shadows. The real, Thomas Shelby.

" Flowers. A dozen red roses on each side of the altar. Like the ones my Artie picks for me" Linda's voice suddenly snapped you from your thoughts, her insufferable happiness searing through the stained memories you shared with Tommy.

Maybe she was right after all. Submit to your husband. The only sensible, optional choice. Right?

Bolting two steps at a time to your once shared bedroom, Tommy threw open the door, eyes wide as he scanned the room.

You were seeing someone, fucking someone, he told his raging paranoia as he began to wade through your belongings, pulling your cupboard draws out one by one in search of something, anything that would confirm his suspicions.

" Fuck!" His hand slammed the last drawer shut, finding nothing that would give him the justification to interrupt your days plans and confront you about your lies.

What the fuck was he doing?, he perched himself on the edge of your vanity, fingers threading through his hair as a heavy sigh of exhaustion left his lips. He was losing you, he told himself, burying his head in his hands as he swallowed down the nagging guilt of his own making creeping up his throat.

You loved him, needed him. You were just...Tommy refused to believe otherwise, refused to accept your separation as he pulled a cigarette from within his suit jacket when a smack of reality hit him with the winking shine of your gold wedding ring catching the corner of his eye.

Puffing a cloud of smoke from his lips, Tommy rubbed the small band between his fingers, lifting it to his face to see his engraved initials entwined with yours inside of its metal frame.

Was that when you began to distance yourself from him? After your wedding? When you no longer sought out his advice, cared to sit and watch him work, choosing rather to meet new people, go new places without him? To... modernise? he cleared the bitter taste of resentment from his throat, clutching the lone piece of jewellery within his hand, clutching onto the remnants of your marriage for dear life before tossing it onto the table for all to see like you had your marriage.

" Just what are you up to, hm?" Tommy's distrust quickly returned, feeling hurt by the sight of your wedding ring laid cold on its ornate tray as he picked up the small photo frame of you and Elsie he had taken on a trip to Brighton many moons ago.

" You better not be lying to me darling. You know what happens when..." Tommy's eyes drifted from your portrait to the mug of cold tea sat on your vanity. It's distinct smell, awakening his senses and anger in one quick, sweeping moment.

Ginger.

Commonly used for insomnia. But also consumed in regular doses as a form of contraception. A tea Tommy would tease you about in your early years of dating with it's uselessness as you refused to rely on his preferred, and most notoriously unreliable method of, pulling out.

It had been many months since you and Tommy had shared your martial bed, many months since you basked in the warmth of each other's bodies.

You weren't fucking him. So who were you sleeping with?, Tommy seethed at the idea of another man touching you that wasn't him, all logical thinking swiftly taken over by a blazing fury behind the viscous storm brewing behind his eyes at the lies he was convinced you had told him. Lies he'd get to the bottom of before the day was over.

" My car, now!"

Next Part

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow

[euphoricfilter]

more silent love:

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au

summary: jungkook’s book of silent love

tags/ warnings: more fluff, they’re in love it’s kinda sickening, more silent ways to say i love you. i am once again sleepy and thinking of the cute kinda love

notes: part two of this fic, but can be read as a standalone :D

where you can find all my other work!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

The list of silent love is a forever growing one. 

A small notebook sits on the kitchen table, one you had never bothered to pick up. Though Jungkook likes to spend quiet evenings alone, handwriting far from legible as he scribbles down each of these precious moments.

Memories set in stone as the ink seeps into flimsy paper; perfect, beautiful, love tucked between pages like his own little secret. 

As of late, the both of you spend Sunday afternoons learning how to bake bread. A new type of loaf every week, flour clinging to clothes and smiles tugging at both your lips. It had become your own personal mission to never buy bread again, taking hours out the afternoon, simply basking in the company of one another as you learn something new. 

He finds himself associating the smell of fresh bread to you. Quirk of a smile tugging at his cheeks as he walks past bakeries, fleeting memory of you in the forefront of his mind. A permanent home you've burrowed.

Jungkook, of course, likes to make you sandwiches with your homemade bread. Some mornings waking up, quietly slipping out of bed before you wake to pack you lunch, sweet little note slipped into your bag before he hears your footsteps patter out the bedroom, sluggish as you wake up. 

And on those mornings your patience wears a little too thin, the world a little too much for you to take so early in the day; Jungkook will make sure to sit you down in front of the vanity. Where he detangles your hair ever so gently. Careful as he helps you put your earrings in– he’d gotten quite good over time, learning how to match your jewellery to what you were wearing. Observant in all your favorite pieces that he knew he could never go wrong with. 

Every night as he showers, you sit yourself up on the kitchen counter, reaching for Jungkook’s favorite herbal teas. And every night, as he dries his hair, slinking into the kitchen, there will always be a tea there waiting for him.

He wonders how you’d learnt to time it perfectly. Knowing when to pour the hot water with just enough time before he gets out of the shower where the temperature is perfect. So he can easily slip under a blanket with you, your cold feet warmed up between his thighs as he sips sleepy tea and you doze off beside him. 

He’d learnt you loved when he made you heart-shaped pancakes. And as much as he always eyes the cute little pancake pans online, there will always be something slightly more rewarding about his own hand-crafted hearts that have you giggling into his mouth– lips syrup sticky and sweet. That slight effort more just to see you smile forever lighting up his life. 

He likes to watch you smile as you re-read your favourite books. Where he’d taken time out of his lunch breaks to respond to all the annotations you’d made on your first read through.

He’d glance up at you from his phone as the pen glides across the page, your own mind conjuring up replies to his questions and comments. Like that in itself was its own love language. Silent words slipped between pages of stories that aren't your own, words that only the two of you will ever see. A glimpse into your mind and in return a peek into his.

Every time he is the cause of your smile, his chest goes warm and his heart feels fluttery and light. So gooey warm and raw and lovely and so many words, so many thoughts and feelings all at once he will never be able to truly explain it in words. And maybe that’s why he likes to write down all the precious moments you share. Because that is love. The epitome of love in every sense of the word and it's meaning and yet, it's more than that.

It is your shared love in words without fancy vocabulary and poems and unheard confessions of adoration that will never leave the corners of his mind. Simply unreadable gibberish to hold each of these moments in time, cradled against his beating heart, so that even when the both of you leave this world, part of your love will live forever between the pages of that book. 

Because that's what your love is. An eternal thing that will dance between the stars after death and kiss the both of you in your graves as you blossom into new life. Sure to meet one another again no matter where you end up.

You are Jungkook's forever, even if that means he has to scour the earth to find that little notebook, to relive those memories and learn to love you the right way again.

[melodic-haze]

Arlecchino with a dom filthy rich reader. Reader showers her with lots of gifts on a daily basis. Jewelry, clothes, you name it. Reader would buy it all for her. Arlecchino is spoiled rotten by reader. Arlecchino would always say how reader doesn't need to give her gifts everyday. She finds it unnecessary but the way Arlecchino would wear those expensive outfits and jewelry as Reader fucks her says otherwise.

[Sorry for my bad English]

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!afab!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader with a strap

☆ — NOTES: NOOO DON'T BE SORRY DUDE❗���❗️ It's easy to understand and it got the point across, this is actually pretty good english :333 gonna tell you rn it's so much better than the english from people where I'm at 😭 actually atrocious

Arlecchino would ABSOLUTELY try and refuse your gifts at first, saying that she has no need for such material things when she already has you :333 (could not be my ass I'm so money-oriented it's so bad LMAOOO)

You have money to burn though—you can so easily buy your lover whatever she may want without needing to look at the price!!! You wanna spoil this woman in a way that she had never been spoiled before, so you pay attention to her likes and dislikes, take notes on her preferences, buy things that link with your observations and/or remind you of her

Eventually though Arlecchino would come to accept that buying her things, especially when they're so expensive, is one of the many ways that you show love. Far be it for her to reject your gifts when you've taken the time to pick them out with her in mind, even if yeah she says it's unnecessary. If it's coming from you then why would she refuse???

I think she'd initially like. Not wear them though 😞 not bc she's ungrateful, but bc she personally thinks whatever you've bought her doesn't suit her unless it's something practical. This ESPECIALLY applies to jewellery bc like. It's. An accessory. She doesn't really need it in her life, does she???? But she warms up to it :33333

The jingle of the precious necklace around her slender neck definitely helps with convincing that perhaps such gifts were okay.

It was a custom-made gift crafted using the finest metals, notably the highest-quality starsilver one could find in Dragonspine's unstable landscape. Perhaps you could have bought something much more.. easily produced such as gold, but you didn't—couldn't—settle for less when it came to the prime target of your bountiful affection and the person who was in need of true love.

Though you admit, it wasn't because of the item's worth that had you wanting for a custom gift for your paramour, no. Rather, your thoughts had often wandered to the crafted image of a red glow illuminating pale skin, along with how beautiful a sight it must be.

And when you see the magical jewels reflect its crimson light on Arlecchino's naked skin, when the chains clink quietly as the pendant bounces on top of her chest, you pride yourself in being right as you smirk and continue to fuck her with your faux appendage.

Your hand went to graze her neck, fingers trailing down as you slowed your efforts. It would have been nice to overwhelm her, to fill her over and over until she forgot herself, but you adored the view you were blessed with right this very moment. Despite how formidable this woman was, you still managed to leave her grasping for breath, glistening chest heaving as her necklace followed suit.

Such a thought itself had prompted you to reach for the camera on the bedside table before taking a quick picture. She would often question your want to capture her visage in such an unruly state but really, you can't help it!

After all, she looks positively delightful, all dressed up and gilded with your money.

My GOD being rich would also mean you can do that thing where like you rip the clothes off bc you got way too excited. She'd ask you why you did that but then you can easily tell her that you'll buy her another one and more 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ full disclosure heat shot up to her very core at the display ☺️

This is like the greatest sort of ask I've ever had bc I LOVEEEEE jewellery just saying

I read something somewhere about how if you buy your partner a necklace or smth then it's like you're binding them to you. Like a collar but a lot more innocent unless yk you WANT it to be less-than-innocent

Buying her all these things being not just a way to show your love but also to show ownership is kinda crazy in a hot way, and really why wouldn't you?? When she's this formidable and Beautifully Handsome figure, why wouldn't you want to show off the fact that she's fully and utterly yours???? Just clocking onto how perhaps her children point out that the sparkles make her look brighter, or how random people may stop and stare at the shimmering pendant on her neck and knowing that you've given her whatever bounties she could ever ask for (if she wanted to ask) is!!!! Definitely A Feeling 😋😋😋

BONUS if the necklace itself is sturdy too. You'd have to think of how she would much prefer practicality, so you've made sure the metal is STRONG and REINFORCED enough to withstand force........esp when you go to tug on it harshly like a collar. Bc really at the end of the day, that's what this is—the only difference is an actual collar would be thick and would wrap around the neck while a necklace is thin and hangs loosely

In any case you tug on it harshly, bring her even closer and more personal as you start drilling into her again, and it lifts her up instead of breaking thank god ☺️☺️☺️ and she does NOTHING but take what you give her!!!!! She hangs there like a ragdoll, eyes glazed over as little grunts and quiet moans escape her lips before you hit that One Spot at that certain and then suddenly her hands are grasping onto you frantically :3

And at daily life THEN that's when she starts fully accepting your gifts and wearing it without feeling like she's extorted you somehow. When people ask her about it, she'll say that she got it all from her lover before looking at you with a tint of red on her cheeks, remembering the times when you've fucked her to the point where she felt like an object herself 🫶

[breezeoow]

Seventeen as an act of love-

(VOCAL UNIT)

Jeonghan as leaving sweet notes

jeonghan is a honeyed dulcet man fully charged with sweet, random, motherly comforts in his total self. showing love and giving comfort to someone through small and precious and meaningful words is such a regular thing for him to do. you just woke up in the morning? you'll find small notes stuck on your phone, your bathroom mirror, your fridge, and beside your breakfast that he made or ordered for you before leaving. you're gonna have an in important presentation today and so nervous about that? he'll leave beautiful words for you inside you notes and purse. it's a special day today? the whole house will be filled with loved words and appreciations doodled by him only for you. you guys went somewhere together? he'll always leave something written there that represents his for you. writing notes for is his favourite things to cause he can feel the light you get from them.

Joshua as writing love letters

jisoo, the guy filled with all the gentleness of the world can radiate warmth through his words so effortlessly. writing love letters is one of a medium of it for him. you're just passing a random lazy day? suddenly you'll receive a handwritten letter with flowers and his own made jewelleries for you. it's your birthday? you always wait for his letters and he never disappoints. you're going for an important trip somewhere? virtual letters are ready for you everyday and you'll find there physical versions after coming back. you guys are in a long distance relationship? he'll have a monthly love letter streak by giving a sweet little title to it. it doesn't matter how often you're getting his letters, it just always feels so new. everything he writes never fails to leave you overwhelmed with joy and love and tenderness. and all he wants is to make you feel he is always by your side through those letters.

Woozi as going for walks

jihoon being a stay at home person never stopped him from thinking to go for a walk with loved ones. going for a walk with words of soft universe and curing galaxy is what he thinks for you the most. you're exhausted today? he'll take to a midnight drive to take a walk somewhere near beach and sit there. you can't stop crying and don't want to let him see? he'll understand somehow and take you to a park for a walk, holding hands, singing songs for you, so you can calm down and hide in him instead of hiding from him. it was such a busy yet joyful day? he'll take you to rooftop to have a small walk and needed refreshments talks. because he knows even a great day can be heavy sometimes. it never matters if he is busy at home or studio or somewhere else, he knows a walk with you will always heal even in the crucial times. and that's what he wants to do; heal you, staying by side of you, give you assurance in calmness that love is near, you're near love.

DK as capturing random photos

seokmin is sweetest memory keeper boy who exists here. capturing every tiny things and going through them afterwards, makes him want to do a lot more. you're doing your work at home? he's capturing those moments of yours so carefully. you're cooking his favourite dish? every step of it will have their own click. you guys went for a walk together? the camera roll is filled with every tiny movements of yours that you never noticed. you're eyes, your checks, your hands, your hairstyles and every other things will be saved to him. he just loves loves loves doing this knowing you don't mind at all. and also he loves to gift them to you in a bunch together occasionally showering with love words.

Seungkwan as peppy surprises

seungkwan is a personified surprise himself. he never fails to show his warmth through his considerations. it's weekend today? he'll show up with so much dishes from your favourite restaurant to eat together. you're working late today? all the house chores will be done by him including his own cooked meals for you. you guys are going on a vacation somewhere? each day will be filled with tiny tiny surprises that he picked for you without letting you know. it's a special day for you? boom! a song will get released which just talks about you. he never tries too hard to show or admits these activities as surprises, but you know how much he loves to do this small to bigger gestures just to see that lightened smile of yours.

[colourstreakgryffin]

hi! Please ignore this request if you don't want to do it/your request are closed.

Do you think you could do a part 2 to hells angel? Or at least like more bonding moments between the two Im in love with father alastor sm 😭🙏

It’s not closed! It’s open, wide open and yes, I’ll happily write more for Papa Alastor! I’ll happily continue the little saga of Papa Alastor and his little fawn! Kinda short but I hope that’s okay!

Alastor- Shopping Trip

“Is this one something you’d like, Princess?” Alastor asks gently, his voice both menacing because of the radio effect and soothing because of the genuine love pouring out uncontrollably, as he draws down an adorable puffy old-fashioned but colourful little dress, long sharp fingers snapped on the small silky shoulder straps slightly. A outfit just the right size for a young girl

Specifically, his little girl. Leitora, a unique deer-featured soul born from pure powerful demonic magic. The one now forming his own soul and heart, he is so glad birthing the little devil darling was successful

His precious baby daughter, a seven year old with matching little deer ears and crimson red gradient in her pretty long hair. She has been waiting a long time to be able to spend time with her father and now, Alastor has taken the whole day off from duties at the Hazbin Hotel, to spend it exploring a wild wondering sinner-filled shopping institution with his babygirl

“Yes, Père! I love it!” You immediately pipe out soft yet eccentric back, excited and hopping right in front of the Radio Demon as he quickly hooks this little clothing present onto the size-appropriate hanger it was originally left on and hands it to you without another word. He currently has a few more shopping bags over his left forearm and an another much bigger shopping bag over his right shoulder as well as your needed travel supplies in a cute old fashioned pastel schoolbag over both of his shoulders

Your father doesn’t mind carrying everything nor does he mind overspending. After all

This is a father-daughter all-day shopping trip

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. A pretty clothing store, full of women’s to men’s to children’s fashion. The fifth store you’ve gone in with Alastor since the pair of you woke up early in the morning and headed over to the biggest mall in the Pride Ring, the mall both of you stand in at this very moment. He has been needing to get you some new clothing for a while now so being able to get your opinion on the cute dresses, tights, accessorises, pyjamas and much more he picks out for you is simply perfect

Alastor has truly missed being able to spend time with you, even if it includes milking his credit card. You’re worth far more than all the wealth he’s stolen and gathered

Taking your hand with a lean down, Alastor waits patiently for you to take his offer as you quickly readjust the clothing store hanger holding up your cute little present. Moving that hanger from both hands to your wrist, you reach up and immediately grab his much bigger hand. Two to three fingers are enough to hold your whole hand, the size difference is simply precious

“Père! Père! Look! Look!” Speaking with a adorable little French accent upon pointing out and chiming excitedly in fluent French, Alastor’s crimson red eyes sharply fling away from the cute rows of female children’s clothing to the single rack of children’s hair accessorises to jewellery. The reason you pointed it out, only seconds after taking your beloved father’s hand was because you noticed something really pretty you wanted your father to see

“What is it, Princess?” Alastor lets you drag him over to the colourful rack, his own eyes wondering around with tall fluffy deer-like ears flicking a bit as if an instinctive twitch. You still have the dress your father handed to you and you reach up as a sign for Alastor to help you. Following your little cute pale fingers, the Overlord picks out a set retro pearl tassel hairpins. Something he never thought you’d like but it may fit with your red hair

He isn’t sure if he wants the metal touching your skull however, so he holds the white cardboard support holding the hairpins still, just scanning over them a bit firmly and if not protective over you

Until your voice breaks him out of his intense thought. His ears shooting up in shock as your own ears draw back slightly, not necessarily concerned but wondering why just a pair of cute accessorises would possibly make him fall so deep into a thinking trance

“Père… What’s wrong?” You’re now the one asking your father to speak to you with big sparkly eyes looking up at him, he takes a few seconds of his head shaking in slight disorientation before he finally gets back to his senses and speaks out his opinion, uncertain but yet uncertain if he wants to reject you

Alastor is not good at saying no to you, he’s good at giving out needed discipline and can be rather strict about specific things but when it comes to mundane things like a pair of mere hairpins, he doesn’t like to say no

What can be said? Alastor is the type of father to spoil his daughter absolutely rotten

“Princess… are you sure you want this one specifically?”

[sulumuns-dootah]

26. 10. Toys - Mammon

    ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽Helltober '24☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N: The kings are here! ^^

    ༺☆༻

Everything in Tartaros is so fancy. Even the adult toy stores are so pretty, you'd think you're shopping for expensive jewellery. Just hearing your shoes clacking on the white and golden marble makes you feel like someone important. Walking through, the display cases catch your attention with the way they reflect your outfit and draw attention to the various toys made out of real precious stones and metals.

The selection of shapes, sizes and functions is already impressive, and this is only the first story out of three. Apparently this one is for the common demons, judging from the way Mammon power walks and guides you along to the opulent staircase adorned with garlands of exotic flowers and plants. At a first glance, you'd think the steps are made out of glass, but you doubt there'd be glass strong enough to handle the king's weight.

Only after making a single step on the seemingly-fragile feature, all eyes in the store are on you. All those gazes would make you uncomfortable, if you weren't already. Even with how light and spacious the building was, you'd felt claustrophobic, scared to look around to not make an accidental eye-contact with some demon. Mammon, on the other hand couldn't care less. Even walking around, he'd study the things others were holding, as if they were only on a more interesting display.

Finally arriving to the second story, after so many steps that felt like a slight workout, you find yourself in an even more opulent room. Comparing in to downstairs, this one was even more glowy with all the gold. Unlike that one, however, the walls on this floor were black with golden accents, as opposed to white and gold. The dark paint made the gold more rich and the toys lined up along the wall stood out more.

“Ah, feel free to let loose, treasure. Just make sure to find your way back to me. Once you're done exploring, we've got to try our purchases upstairs in the private rooms.” Mammon mentions to the large room leading to others with his big hand and laughs. Undoubtedly at your big-eyed expression.

You're about to ask him something, but he's already walking away in one direction and you find yourself alone. Your first few steps are unsure, anxious even. Where do you go? Some of the displays don't even look like they hold sex toys, but some modern surrealist art.

Taking a deep breath, you try to steady your nerves and start walking in a direction, your intuition tells you to.

The first room your legs lead you to has all the lingerie your heart might desire. There are many mannequins in seductive positions, wearing some of the most beautiful pieces you've seen. Maybe you could use something new, since most of your lingerie gets damaged in one way or another with the way Mammon sometimes gets impatient.

One mannequin is displaying a set of belts with small chains hanging from them and already, in your mind, you imagine yourself wearing it for the king. Your hips swaying above his lap as his large hands roam your ass, urging you to finally make contact with his throbbing length.

Just the thought alone makes excitement run down to your nether regions. Grabbing the model from a drawer nearby, you rather carry on before anyone in the room manages to sense your beginning arousal.

The next room holds various BDSM equipment and the moment you enter, your mouth can't help but fill with saliva. The selection of paddles, restraints, gags and instruments is almost overbearing and you're not sure where to start.

With how busy this room is, the only display you're able to take closer look at, is the one with cuffs said to be able to restrain even the strongest demon in Hell.

A mental image of having Mammon fully restrained and blindfolded with his legs affixed to be fully spread appears in your mind. You imagine his huge thighs trembling as a bullet vibrator massages his prostate just enough to make his mind go blank after few minutes from the lack of any other stimulation. With his sight gone he won't be able to tell your next move, until you finally, after hours of such torture, start lovingly sucking on his tip and slowly taking in more and more of his painful erection into your mouth.

Breaking out of your vivid daydream, you shake your head and subtly look around if anyone's noticed your zoned out state. You look around for the cuffs and matching restrains you've seen in the display and finally manage to locate them.

Maybe you should've taken a basket, like Mammon suggested, since your hands are starting to get a bit full to be able to inspect some other potential purchases. Eh, too late to go back downstairs now.

Moving on you enter a room, which for a change has a maroon purple wall paint, containing a more to you familiar toys and gadgets.

The highlight of this room is a display containing dildos shaped exactly as the very own 7 kings of Hell's pubic area. You're not sure if they're all fully accurate, but they surely are spot on when it comes to the king of greed.

This makes you wonder, how it would feel having two of Mammon inside you at the same time. One is already an impressive stretch, so the other one might just as well fully ruin you.

“Interested in that one, are you? I know what you are wondering, and yes, I allowed them to use my cock to make a mould for this special edition set.” a deep voice materialises next to you as two strong hands plant themselves on your hips. You jump a little bit and accidentally bump into the demon behind you. In doing so, you can't help but feel the bulge on your lower back. Seems like you're not the only one who got excited from browsing the store.

“A-are you done shopping already?”

“I am, but if you want to keep looking, I can give you some time.” Mammon straightens out from bending down to your level, “But I'd rather meet you in the private room already. You see, I've found multiple things I'd like to try on you and I'm rather restless to see your reaction.”

You look down into your hands contemplatively, whether you're happy with your haul, but then you glance back to the display.

“Hm... Okay, but grab one of these sets with you, then.” you smirk up at him.

“Already ahead of you, treasure.”

    ༺☆༻

Shhh... The prompt for tomorrow is Pegging ^^

[yourlocaltreesimp]

The First to be Forsaken

been in the works for a while!! This was actually a request that got deleted.

So to the anon who requested a reader who was cursed by Hylia like Eda in the owl house, this is for you!

tw: chronic illness, death

۵♡۵

The ache in your hands never lessened and the maring cracks in your skin never healed. It made for a rather ugly sight, all considered. The creeping vine-like scars showing in rather gorey details the tainted flesh.

No medical salve nor healing spell could rid you of the malice that poisoned your blood. And according to the words of the fairies themselves, it’s latched to your very soul. It festers, feeding off of your energy until you’ll be left as a husk. A puppet with no one to pull its strings.

It’s not pleasant knowing you’re going to die, but it’s less so knowing that no matter how often you pray to the goddess it will not be fixed. The divine never needed to give reason for why they shunned that which gives them power. Still, the chain did what they could, and for that you had many thanks.

Wild always had hearty food to replace the energy stolen from you, Legend let you wear whatever charmed jewellery you wanted, Time would never let you take night shifts, Warriors would carry you on the days you were too fragile to walk, Twilight doubled as a bed and his pelt as a blanket, Four made braces for your brittle joints, Hyrule was always testing different mixes in hopes that one might lessen your pain, Sky would hold your hand and talk to you on the days you could walk to make sure that you had something to distract from the crying of your nerves, even Wind spared some of his grandmother’s soup in hopes that of it didn’t rid of pain, it might ease your distress. Your Heroes were funny like that, sacrificing whatever they had for anyone that needed it, no matter how precious their time or belongings are. Certainly not a coincidence they act this way. They’ve seen what’s become of you under the neglect of the gods. And you’ve seen the familiar ache in their eyes, the recognition of themselves within you.

The newest hero, First —well perhaps then he’s the oldest— was in many ways similar. He too would offer you stories and ballads from his time, forgotten by the time the next era rolled in. His words had a majesty that had the whole camp turn an ear to follow whatever tale he recalled. And by the time it came for you to lay your head and rest, your woes would be far off from the front of your mind.

He’d sweep you off your feet both in the figurative matter and the literal. With only the gentlest graze of your skin and only the sweetest words that could be uttered did he regard you. He did not hold you to a sense of pity, as was common among many who knew of you, but a genuine care. A care for you beyond measure that he’d shown on many occasions that he would stop at nothing to ensure that if you could not be comfortable, you could be content.

And currently you were, despite it being a bad day.

The champion watched over the cooking pot carefully and the traveller flicked through one of his journals, looking for a combination of herbs that might be of help to you. The two passed questions back and forth in an effort to find an overlap of medicinals they haven’t already tried.

You had Twi’s pelt, Sky’s sailcloth and First’s scarf to try and dull your cold flashes. You leaned back against the First hero as his arms warped around you and his face buried into your shoulder. You shiver as the next cold wave hits, wincing. The moment sits in silence before his arms around your abdomen gently pull you closer.

“I am sorry for what she did to you, My beloved.” His voice was deep and poetic as usual, the unwavering strength he displayed to the world melted to softness at your touch. Through the staticky emptiness that settled in your brain, the question stood, alone and without any real context nor answer.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow and you look over at where he rests his head on your shoulder. He draws a heavy breath, mumbling something into your layers of clothing.

“Hylia- all of this because of her vanity. I am sorry you fell victim.” There is a pain in his voice, a guilt he’s held for long. Shackles upon his wrists that he’s not willing to let himself be freed from. You suppose it is him where their united care for the world came from, no matter how unrequited. He’d bleed himself dry for the world if it meant that it’d be better.

“I don’t mind being here with you all” You hear the distant rowdy laughter of Wind and Twi, and you find it in yourself to bask in this one moment, “It’s certainly worth it. To me, at least.” He grumbles happily, kissing the nearest place of unscathed skin he can find, right below your jaw.

“I am glad, Dearest. But that-“ His voice wavers as another chill wracks your body. You can only find a wince as you try to block away the ever advancing chill.

“That is not what I meant. I- It’s because of her that you cannot find rest. It is she who whittled down your bones and set alight your nerves” You find nothing to say as you stare at him, urging for more. “She thought it was wrong for me to love you, to long for your care and yearn to hold your heart. So, she tainted y-“ You wish to hear his words. A muse longing to read the poets works, and yet-

The words grow fuzzy as the gloom within you swells, gnawing painfully at your bones. It seems that you had forgotten exactly how brittle you were. It was always hubris that killed heroes, wasn’t it? But that didn’t make sense. You were no hero. How could it be hubris if you never meant to taunt the gods. How could that be- you weren’t dying, are you?

They said you’d be ok.

You’ll be ok right?

Everything will be ok?

The pressure in your head doesn’t stop growing and your stomach hurls.

The sun is so bright.

It hurts.

She’s taking you again, isn’t she?

[littlemissclandestine]

Can you make soft Vladimir makarov? Please?

Hello my dear Anon!

Of course I can 😊 - thank you so much for the ask! Wasn't sure whether you wanted MWIII or OG MW Makarov so I just went with MWIII. I'm also only comfortable writing for a female reader so hope that's okay. I hope these are to your standards and make you happy, honey. Enjoy! <3

Soft!Vladimir Makarov x Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of sex, suggestive, MDNI, 18+ only

🖤 Soft!Mak who, initially, seems like a cold, distant man who isn't capable of loving anyone, only interested in his work but who has a soft spot for women like you

🖤 Soft!Mak who gently tilts your head up to meet his eyes, his calloused thumb on your chin, stroking it as he whispers lowly how precious you are, his lips curving into a smile as his eyes dart from your left eye to your right and back

🖤 Soft!Mak who uses terms of endearment in Russian regularly such as любимый (beloved), Дорогая (dear), Любимая (darling), Котёнок (kitten), and ангел (angel) - especially loves calling you 'my beloved' or my angel'

[i most definitely have got these wrong as i don't know Russian so someone please correct me if need be!]

🖤 Soft!Mak who loves running his hands up and down your sides as you stand in front of him while he's sat down, looking up at you

🖤 Soft!Mak who gives you that knowing smirk when you wear skirts or tight dresses and just has to compliment your shape and how stunning you look, not being able to keep his hands off you

🖤 Soft!Mak who tends to get possessive when any of his bodyguards or anybody at all looks at you in a way only he's allowed to -> (He may also beat their faces to a pulp, the skin on his knuckles broken, his crisp white shirt now stained with their blood, his face too. As you try and pull him away, he'll spit on them and curse at them. Yes he definitely gets jealous...)

🖤 Soft!Mak who takes your hands in his, holding them together, cocooning them, giving you reassurance everything will work out and he'll be back soon

🖤 Soft!Mak who kisses your forehead tenderly, closing his eyes, his hands on either side of your head before he ruffles your hair when he leaves, cracking a joke to lighten the mood when he sees you crying or saying he'll treat you to something special when he gets back

🖤 Soft!Mak who shows you how much he appreciates you for sticking by him through thick and thin, knowing the questionable things he does daily and putting that aside because you love him

🖤 Soft!Mak who sometimes takes his stress and anger out on you but would never lay a hand on you like that because how could he?

🖤 Soft!Mak who instead, prefers some time apart but only a little. You walk into the main room in your hotel or the living room in your house in the morning, finding it filled with hundreds of bouquets of flowers and your favourite chocolates and a card addressed to you, a handwritten letter detailing how much you mean to him and that he'll be back to talk things through. -> (Timing is everything with this man)

🖤 Soft!Mak who constantly wants to provide for you, spoiling you with the money he brings in, not hesitating to buy bespoke, elegant, matching jewellery for you to wear in his presence

🖤 Soft!Mak who will use as many burner phones as he needs to to call you, telling you how much he missed your voice, holding the phone away for a moment when he starts choking on tears, looking up and blinking quickly to get rid of the tears, clearing his throat and resuming the call, his voice seemingly normal

🖤 Soft!Mak who would rather keep his business with the outside world hidden from you as best he can because really you're his world, the only world he wants to be in, the only one he really wants to focus on. 'The less you know the better' kind of thing because he has to protect his woman

🖤 Soft!Mak who will, however, give you basic firearms training in his private shooting range. Just the two of you. Him standing behind you, hips pressing into yours, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear and neck, a hand squeezing your hips as the other arm adjusts your stance and giving you a kiss on your neck when you hit your targets

🖤 Soft!Mak who will bury his face into the junction between your neck and shoulder, inhaling your scent and leaving a hickey as he wraps his arms around your lower body, hugging you from behind as you both look at the view from the balcony

🖤 Soft!Mak who doesn't mind PDA, but nothing too extreme, reminding you and everyone watching who you belong to, not thinking it's a sign of weakness but instead strength

🖤 Soft!Mak who has no guilt when it comes to the bloodshed he causes, but feels incredibly guilty when he leaves you for just one moment

🖤 Soft!Mak who needs to feel you on him all the time and touching you whenever he gets a chance to, the expression in the eyes of this trained killer turning into one of pure love and admiration

🖤 Soft!Mak who will pull you down by your wrist, causing you to fall into his lap so he can kiss you softly, his fingers digging into your hips and back, tongue intertwining with yours as you both fight for dominance

🖤 Soft!Mak whose ability to compartmentalise and keep emotions out of things is at serious risk when you came into his life because you're all that's on his mind

🖤 Soft!Mak who treats you like the rarest, most valuable thing in the entire universe, doing everything with the utmost care when it comes to you

🖤 Soft!Mak who loves you for you, admiring your strength, and treats you how a man should, his actions exemplary (even though he is often away but he makes up for it)

🖤 Soft!Mak who loves your vulnerability too, reminding you that you're both a team and to work through things together

🖤 Soft!Mak who never makes you feel like a burden on his shoulders

🖤 Soft!Mak who notices how you tend not to bother him when he's preoccupied, his gloved hands on his hips as he's talking to someone, his head tilting to the side and noticing you hunched over, immediately walking up to you because he feels bad for not spending as much time as he wants to with. Him kneeling down in front of you, removing his gloves, his hands caressing your cheeks as he asks what's on your mind with a warm expression on his face

🖤 Soft!Mak who takes your soft hands to his lips in the middle of a conversation, kissing them while maintaining eye contact with you, listening to you fully

🖤 Soft!Mak who interlocks your fingers with his in the backseat of an SUV and has an arm around you or his hand on your thigh, your head on his shoulder when you're on the run and need to relocate, being driven by a chauffeur to the next place you call home

🖤 Soft!Mak who always wonders what he did to deserve you

🖤 Soft!Mak who is full of surprises, showing you his experience in every field ;)

🖤 Soft!Mak who is big on consent, only engaging in anything sexual if you're in the mood, taking his time, talking you through it, guiding you through it, getting rougher later if you're comfortable with it

🖤 Soft!Mak who chuckles when he hears you moan or scream his name, whispering things in Russian directly into your ear that turn you on even more...

"Hehe you like that my love?...Fuck you're killing me kitten nghh look at you, so beautiful, so...sexy."

🖤 Soft!Mak who, in a mad rush, fuelled by the adrenaline and cortisol running through his veins and the fact he might not make it back before a mission, where he has a standoff with TF141, asks that million dollar question in a hotel, not his ideal proposal location but anyways he slips that ring onto your finger, lips meeting yours harshly with desire, as tears stain his cheek, saying he loves you repeatedly, cupping your cheeks as your foreheads touch and he pulls you into a quick tight hug

🖤 Soft!Mak who, when the opposition are closing in on his location, will grab your hand tightly, running through corridors on high alert, a pistol in the other as he shouts commands to his soldiers, glass breaking, bullets flying as he shields you from it all

🖤 Soft!Mak who directs you out of the area first as your safety is priority, you bring him more joy than anything in the world, the only thing he truly needs and if he lost you knowing he had a part to play, he'd never be the same again -> (would probably make his reign of terror worse, wanting to brutally torture or kill the rest of our tf141 lads in cold blood as he looks for someone else to blame even though deep down he knows some of it lies with him - I LIVE FOR ANGST. Can you tell?)

🖤 Soft!Mak who remembers your talks together in bed and how you wouldn't want him to lash out in grief and be impulsive like that or seek so called 'revenge' in the first place even though you knew what you were getting into when you began dating him

🖤 Soft!Mak who starts to question whether his cause is worth it because of the danger he's putting you in, trying to push those thoughts aside because he's THE Vladimir Makarov, the ultranationalist, the terrorist, the man whose authority and work should not be questioned by any being or they'd face the consequences...-> (the internal conflict mwahaha! *rubs hands together*)

🖤 Soft!Mak who is 110% loyal to you and you only

🖤 Soft!Mak who thinks twice about everything now that he has you

dividers by @saradika-graphics <33

Next time, don't be shy anon - YOLO. Please know this is a safe space, my love. 🙃 (Also lowkey almost fell for him a second time writing these. First time was OG!Makarov, however. Yeesh...dear God, please not again. NEVER AGAIN bdjcdjsksk) -Star ☆

[the-jewel-catalogue]

Catherine Zoraida Blackwell’s brand may have taken off with the Princess’s influence, but every creation is still made by hand

The moment Catherine Zoraida Blackwell saw that the Princess of Wales was wearing earrings Blackwell had designed was “overwhelming”. The photo of the then Duchess of Cambridge during the Diamond Jubilee tour was on the front pages of every national newspaper. 

“She looked incredible,” says Blackwell. “She was dressed for dinner with the King of Malaysia, in a long formal Alexander McQueen dress, and my jewellery.” 

Blackwell had been contacted a few weeks earlier by the Duchess’s stylist, who bought two pieces, the “Double leaf earrings” and “spread your wings” bracelet and asked for them to be sent with next-day delivery. “But I hadn’t heard anything else since,” Blackwell says. “Then, there she was, wearing them, and suddenly my website crashed. There’s this army of sleuths who work out exactly where each item of her outfit is from, and they found me. It was crazy.”

The collection wasn’t bespoke, nor precious jewels – it was an off-the peg design, made from gold-plated silver, that cost the un-regal price of £165 from Blackwell’s label, Catherine Zoraida.

As the Duchess – now Princess of Wales – is wont to do, she wore the pieces again, later on the tour. She went on to buy more jewellery from Zoraida including “Fern drop” earrings and gold “Mistle Kiss” earrings both of which she wore on several Zoom appearances during lockdown, “fern hoop” earrings (£220), which she wore to Wimbledon in 2019 and very recently the aptly-named “crown fern hoops” (£160), “which I guess we might see on her soon,” Blackwell says, smiling. 

LINK

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

A Well Trained Pet | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki x Reader | Drabble 900 words

Loki has a gift for you, his precious pet.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content, sex magic, pet play, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Loki, collars & leashes, oral sex, thigh riding, cum play, some arguing, Loki is both persusive and possessive. He's a Prince, she's a maid, you know the drill.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki Masterlist

Loki stalked down the hallway, offical robes dusting the white marble floors as your shoes clicked just meters in front of him.

"Where are you going? Your Prince has asked for your company," he spoke sternly, but betrayed his jealousy with the hand that reached out to you.

"I'm going back to my chambers. You've embarrassed me in front of the court, how will I show my face tomorrow." You snapped back, surprising the royal as you whipped round to face him. "I have jobs to complete in the morning. Good night, Your Highness," you simmpered, curtseying formally before turning and stamping towards the servant's quarters.

"Come back" Loki reached out and grasped your arm, spinning you back round and pushing you against the wall. The tapestry of Odin and Frigga's courtship fluttering as he stepped closer, caging you against the fabric.

"Leave me be, Prince Loki," you stared back at him, defiant.

"My darling" his tone changed, softer somehow, concerned. "I believed you liked to be my little Pet, is that not so?"

"Well, your information is wrong." you blushed at the name, allowing your eyes to move from his, to take in the deep forest green robes, the gold jewellery adorning his neck and hands.

"It doesn't seem to be wrong, my Pet, you blush, you move to my touch."

"In private, Your Highness."

"Ahh, I see, well, then perhaps we should adjorn to my chambers instead?" He coaxed, a hand at the small of your back, holding you against him.

You thought for a moment, you should really be more angry about his public display in the banquet hall. Yet his warm hands, towering presence and silver tongue are telling you otherwise.

"What if I had a present for you, to truly make you my little Pet?" You narrowed your eyes, "a private present, for us, but so you always know I'm thinking of you."

"I suppose, if you've gone to the trouble of a present, Your Highness."

He smiled, the joy spreading slowly across his face as he leaned into your neck to whisper in your ear. "You know better than that, Pet," he teased.

"Yes, Master," you relaxed into his touch, allowing him to bring you closer. In a moment you're in the private warmth of Loki's chambers. A fire burning in the hearth, furs and blankets spread before it.

"Stay here, Pet." He pointed down at the warm nest in front of the fire and you knelt obediently, fiddling with the blankets. When he returned he was carrying a flat black box. "For you."

You opened it slowly to reveal a gold chain necklace with a single emerald set almost floating into one of the links. Beside the necklace was a second chain, this one has a leather loop at the end. Despite yourself you could feel heat pool between your thighs, clamping your knees together to try and hide your excitement.

"Ah, you can't hide from me little Pet. Perhaps you need a little Pet name, hmm? Bunny?" He looked you up and down slowly, eyes undressing you. "No. No, that won't do. You've got claws when you need them. A Kitten then," he said rubbing a hand over your head and down your back and it took all your control not to purr at his gentle, teasing, touch.

He took the chain and wrapped it deftly around your neck, clicking the delicate lead to the attachment at the front.

"How do you feel, Kitten?"

You preened, feeling the metal warm against your skin, the knowledge that you of all the beautiful maids, not to mention the maidens, ladies and princesses, at court had gained Loki's specific favour.

"Wanted," you sighed, sitting forward to rest your head on Loki's knees. A familiar position, comforting for you both. As you sat together, Loki's hand on your head, you could feel an odd sensation building, like being able to feel your hair grow. Your own hand joined his atop your hair but something was in the way. Finer hair, the twitch of a pointed ear, your senses heightened, your pupils blown.

"You don't mind? I thought you could use some further help with your feline endeavours," Loki's voice was its own low purr and in surprise you sat up straighter, a matching black tail flicking out from underneath your uniform.

"Oh!"

"I can give you claws, as well, should I upset you?" He teased, pulling your head higher with a firm grasp on the golden lead.

"Oh no, Master, it's quite...an interesting sensation," the tail swished lazily back and forth on the ground, ears dipping a little at a scratch behind the ear.

When you were used to your new ears and tail Loki tightened his grasp on the lead a little further, keeping his hand low you crawled closer up onto his foot, until you were hugging his thigh. You hated it, how much you loved it, your core throbbing and your nerves fizzing at being so close to him.

"Now, Kitten, I think it's time to show your Master your thanks for your gift," he held you tight against his leg, your damp panties soaking through onto the cool, slick, leather.

"Yes, Master," instinctively you opened your mouth, this time letting your tongue lol a little, as he pulled himself free of his tight leather trousers. True to your knew name you gave his pink head a few cautious kitten licks, gathering his precum on your tongue before sinking down as far as possible, gagging on his length.

"What a good, well trained, little Kitten you are my Pet," his words made you throb and rub yourself against his leg all the more, humming and moaning around his cock as it leaked down your throat "Good, Kitten. Drink all your milk and you'll get a reward."

You looked up just in time to see Loki's grin turn feral, his cock throbbing against your tongue and then you closed your eyes, giving in to your animal instincts.

[margaretoakgrove]

Caring Lord Heisenberg

First of all, let me to wholeheartedly congratulate you on being one of the luckiest people in the world!

Yes, that's right, you have automatically become one since that very moment when the heart of lord Heisenberg himself chose you as his only one beloved.

And despite of the tough personality and rough exterior of this man he is, actually, quite kind, caring, gentle and attentive within the soul and will do literally anything to see a genuine smile of happiness on your face.

You will probably not hear him saying "i love you" hundred times a day because, not going to lie, Karl is not very good at expressing his feelings with words, but he will definitely always find many other different ways to show how deeply he really cares for you.

On daily basis the lord lavishly compliments your outward look, making your cheeks redden like two ripe tomatoes, and persistently encourages you not to give up on your cherished dreams but devotedly follow them no matter how difficult that is, this way helping the wings of your soul remain unfolded.

All needs of yours Karl is very well aware of and always ready to help you out to entirely fulfill each and every one of them. He buys your favorite beverages and food from the Duke, even without paying attention to the prices; masterly unnoticeably steals breathtaking books from the rich library of lady Dimitrescu, makes Donna special orders for her to sew new clothes to your liking and asks Moreau for all necessary and qualitative medicines when you are in a poor state of health.

Speaking of your health, it is extremely important for the lord for you to stay well as much as possible and for this reason, knowing his habit of smoking like a chimney, Karl avoids puffing cigars near with you.

Making jewellery of metal has now turned into Heisenberg's new little hobby in his spare of work time. He enjoys sitting in one of his workshops in a calm atmosphere, painstakingly designing and creating another trinket, at the same time quietly humming some nice melodic song and vividly imagining how doubtlessly glad you will be to receive one more peculiar handmade gift from him.

Sometimes because of an especially unpleasant family gathering or an unsuccessful experiment, the blood within the man's veins begin to boil out of irritation and pure anger. Remembering how highly sensetive by nature you really are, Karl politely asks you to leave him for some time alone in order to cool his jets and be able to think straight as he desires not one bit to accidentally snap at you and break your fragile heart.

For Heisenberg there is nothing more unbearable than to watch his darling cry. Therefore when your precious eyes start filling with bitter tears of sadness, the lord, as if on autopilot, gives you a firm yet gentle hug. Carefully and caringly stroking your hair and back, your beloved tenderly soothes you, assuring that everything is certainly going to be alright because he is always here…with you…

When you wish to take a slow stroll in a forest or simply around the village, usually Karl gladly joins you, serving you as a loyal and reliable defender. But at thouse moments when he, unfortunately, cannot come together with you, being too busy with working on his projects, the lord sends a pack of lycans in order for them to protect you from every ill-wisher and each potential danger during your walk. Don't worry! These fluffy guys just look so intimidating, but Heisenberg trained them too well, and, believe me, they will never dare to cause you any harm.

At the restless nights of your life when you, being attacked by a bunch of poisonous anxious thoughts, try to desperately fall asleep, almost constantly tossing and turning in the bed, the strong arms of your beloved wrap around you even more tighter than usual. Pulling you closely to his sturdy wide chest, Karl softly and gently caresses your tensed body, placing simultaneously little loving kisses on your face, neck and shoulders, from time to time speaking into your ear very pleasant amazing things in a whisper until you feel absolutely relaxed and sleepy.

Closing your eyes and sinking into the land of sweet peaceful dreams, inwardly you sincerely thank the Universe for allowing you to love this incredible man and to be loved by him tenfold back, feeling with all your heart that, in fact, only he and he alone is everything you have ever truly wanted and everything you have ever so badly needed.