#WHERE IS MY PRETTY LUCY DRAWINGS

[parsimonius]

me trying to staying fixated on Batfamily so I can finish my writings instead of falling back into my middle school obsession with Nalu:

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

Girls Castellan might like

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Athena kid!Reader

Summary: After talking to Annabeth, you try to figure out who Luke likes. And what would be the best way to do this other than a list?

Warnings: fluff, english is not my native language

Word Count: 2.6k

First when you had arrived, Camp Half-Blood sounded like a dream. A place where you were finally safe, thanks to Mr. D. the weather was always good and there were many activities. But after some time, doing always the same stuff got boring. Learning ancient Greek, cleaning stables, Pegasus riding, picking strawberries, Sword and archery training, Volleyball, Capture the Flag, swimming in the lake, and campfire singalongs. Every week it was the same. Thanks Aphrodite, you were all hormonal teenagers and at least there was sometimes exciting drama at camp.

Like right now, you were sitting at breakfast, and you couldn't help but notice, that Lucy, Daughter of Aphrodite, was glaring holes in the back of Luke Castellan’s head. Clutching the knife firm that her knuckles were white, she looked as if she was about to jump up and pounce on the Hermes cabin counselor. A big contrast to yesterday, when they couldn't keep their hands off each other around the campfire. So, what happened in the darkness of the night?

"You see it too?”, you asked your half-sister Annabeth curious, who already had assessed the whole situation.

“It’s not surprising, she isn’t his type.”

“Not his type?”, you echoed taken aback.

Before Luke and Lucy were a thing, only for ten days but still a thing, he had something with one of Lucy’s half-sisters. There had been a lot of drama, when Luke had ended things with Stephanie and was seen kissing Lucy three days later. It had been a lot of fun, maybe except for Luke, Stephanie, and Lucy. But back to the actual situation, after this story, everybody, you too, though that Luke’s type were beautiful girls, preferable daughters of Aphrodite. And who could blame him? They were otherworldly pretty.

“He likes feisty girls who are good fighters”, Annabeth told you unaffected while picking at her bacon with her fork.

“How do you know that?”

Annabeth and Luke were close, like siblings. But you couldn’t imagine neither Annabeth nor Luke lying down on one of their beds and talking about girls.

“Because he is so obvious.”

If she said so. You hadn't noticed it yet, but maybe you hadn't looked closely either. You had wanted to spare yourself the pain.

“And who does he like?”, you dared a short look at Luke, who was laughing about something Chris had said. Seeing this, you couldn’t help it, your lips pulled up to a small smile. Next to you Annabeth rolled her eyes. But you only had eyes for the pretty head counselor of cabin 11.

“Won’t tell you”, astonished you teared your eyes of Luke and looked to your little sister. A smug smile was dancing around her mouth. “You always complain that you're bored.  Perhaps finding it out may help you battle your boredom.”

You immediately regretted complaining to her about your boredom at the start of your breakfast. This was now her revenge.

“Can you at least tell me if it’s a girl or a boy.”

“A girl, that's the only tip you get.”

Like every organized person you started your research with a list. Your list with the very fitting title ‘Girls Castellan might like’ included every girl at camp, except the ones who were too young and the girls you knew, were bad at fighting.

Next your research led you in the arena, where Luke was teaching sword fight. Clutching your list, like it was your most prized possession, you searched for a good place to keep an eye on everything. With a little bit of luck, you would be able to watch, how Luke was interacting with some of the girls on your list and could draw further conclusions from this.

You weren’t the only one, who came just to watch the practice. A few seats away sat a few daughters of Aphrodite. And you quickly understood why.

Holding a sword Luke was a force to be reckoned with. His movements were smooth as butter, and you couldn’t help noticing his muscles tensing under his shirt as he performed various exercises. Your gaze unconsciously slipped to his large hands, which were loosely holding the sword. After years of wielding a sword, they must be covered with calluses. How would it feel, if his callused hands would wander over your body, cupping your hips to pull you closer to him?

“What are you scheming?”

An all too familiar voice snapped you out of your daydream. Caught like a deer in headlights you looked up to Luke Castellan, who was standing right in front of you. Just looking at his hands, you could feel a blush slowly creeping up. Damn hormones.

“I’m not scheming”, you protested while stuffing the list hastily in the back pocket of your jeans shorts.

“Sure, that's why you're hiding the note”, amused Luke’s brown eyes sparkled. And what beautiful eyes he had. Stop! You had to concentrate! “Besides kids of Athena don’t just sit around and watch people, you lot are always scheming.”

“If you say so”, trying to seem cool, you shrugged your shoulders. “But that’s not why you came here.”

“Always so wise, fancy a fight?”

„There is no way I will beat you with a sword.”

And why fight if you already knew that you would lose? That wasn’t your style. You and your half-siblings knew better than that.

“What about hand-to-hand combat?”

Now you were talking! In hand-to-hand combat you could stand a chance.

“So desperate to lose, Castellan?”, you teased trying to drive away the nervousness that had settled in your bones. Sometimes you hated the nervousness Luke Castellan made you feel in his present, but looking at him, you knew, that you could never hate him.

“When it comes to you, I’m always desperate”, there was a time, were words like that form Luke’s lips, had made your heart flatter. That was before you realized that he was just a big flirt and wasn’t serious. But now, older, and wiser, you just rolled your eyes, before you motioned for him to follow you down in the arena.

“Flirting will not help you to win.”

Luke just shrugged, “Doesn't hurt trying.”

Yours and Luke’s hand-to-hand combats were famous around the camp. Luke had quick reflexes, was tall and full of muscles, while you were a strategic mastermind, always three steps ahead. And none of you shied away from getting down and dirty. Therefore, it was no surprise, that a ring of onlookers had already formed before one of you could throw the first punch. Besides, you were too focused to really mind it. You had already fought against Luke so often, that it felt more like a rehearsed dance than a fight. Maybe this was your way of dancing. While the Aphrodite girls danced around the bonfire, you danced in an arena to the music of your own heartbeat.

Like always it was Luke who opened the fight. With one large strike he closed the distanced between you and tried to punch you in your face, so your hands would go up, and he could kick you in your belly. Seeing this coming, you caught his hand with yours and while he lifted his leg, your swiped yours under his other one to bring him down. Letting go of his hands, you watched with a smile, how the tumbled down to the floor. But instead of going after him, you gave him the time you stand up. He was stronger than you, so you wanted to avoid wrestling with him on the floor so early at all costs, it would only end badly for you. First, he had to get tired, and none knew better that you how to wear down Luke Castellan.

His next three punches you easily dodged and then you stroke. Letting go of a flurry of blows it was Luke’s turn to block. For a moment you just exchanged blows, neither of you managed to blow the other's cover. But then Luke clipped the side of your face and while hot pain shot through your left cheek, you stumbled back. However, as fast as he punched you, you recovered. Dipping under his outstretched arm, you twisted said arm in a painful angle. You could hear his sharp inhale. And maybe it brought you a little bit of joy. But before you knew what happened, Luke had knelt and thrown you over his shoulder. To everyone's surprise, including yours, you somehow managed to land on your feet. Taking advantage of the chance that his face was still near your knees, you rammed your knee into his nose, drawing first blood. Both of you watched stunned how it dripped down from his chin to the floor, where it mixed with the sand. You had won sooner than any of you thought.

“It was a good fight, sorry about your nose”, you winced, but Luke just waved you off.

“It’s fine.  I would have preferred it if you had won the fight with a tackle, but that's the way it is.”

Before you could respond a pretty girl from cabin 10 rushed to Luke with a handkerchief in her hands, and you were forgotten. Not wanting to watch Luke soaking up her attention, you retreated.

Only when you had left the arena and wanted to reach for your list, you found it missing.  As if struck by lightning, you froze. You were pretty sure, that you didn’t lose the list. If it had fallen out of your pocket, you would have seen it lying on the floor, you were sure of it. That could only mean one thing. Just thinking about it made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you. Hot panic shot up your back and you felt like screaming. Someone had stolen your list, without you even noticing.  There was only one person who got close enough to you to do this and at the same time had the nimble fingers required, Luke Castellan.

At dinner, you were sulking in self-pity while you were trying very hard to look everywhere except at a certain table. Maybe if you would not draw his attention for a week or maybe two, he would forget about the list. Or at least you could pretend that he forgot. The other option was, that you would flee from camp and never look back. Considering the monsters that lurked outside the borders for young demigods, the first was clearly the safer option.

The fear that he would share the list with all the campers, and they would laugh at you, gnawed at you, that you couldn't swallow a bite. Your throat felt like it was tight up, yet it was your hands who were tight up. You couldn’t do anything besides waiting for the storm to blow over, and you hated it.

Your thoughts got interrupted by a paper plane which landed perfectly in front of you. Surprised, your head shot up, and your eyes locked with a pair of dark brown ones. Sending you a wink, Luke dived into conversation with his siblings, and you couldn’t help but groan. His father was the messenger god, if Luke wanted to convey a message, he could do it by paper plane without any problems.

Torn you looked at the paper plane. Did you really want to know what he had to say? What if he just wanted to make fun of you? But if not? With shaking hands, you picked up the paper. Your mum was Athena, goddess of war, you wouldn't hide from Castellan, you would face this fight. Determinedly unfolding the paper, your eyes scanned the list spread out in front of you. You knew this list; you had written this list. Everything was how you had left it, beside one thing. Luke has crossed out the ‘might’ in the title and had replaced it with a ‘doesn't’ in his scraggly handwritten. Now the new title of your list read as ‘Girls Castellan doesn't like ‘.    

A few days passed and you weren’t wiser. There must be a mistake! The list you made included every girl, that could fight and wasn’t a child. If Annabeth wasn't wrong, Luke had to like one of them. And Annabeth was never wrong. Crouching on your bottom lip you looked down on the list in your hands.

You were sitting in the grass near the strawberry fields, the sun was warming your face. When you weren't busy avoiding Luke, you were thinking about the list and its meaning. By changing the title Luke hinted, that he didn’t like any of the girls on the list. You had double and triple checked it, you hadn’t forgotten anyone. But Annabeth couldn’t be wrong, that had never happened before. It was maddening. It was like a riddle you were too dumb to solve, and you hated it. You were a daughter of Athena for god’s sake. Right now, you were possible one of her greatest shames, if she was interested enough in you to know what you were up to.

Before more negative thoughts could fill your mind, a shadow appeared over you. As you looked up, calluses hands stole the list out of your fingers. Groaning you faced none other than Luke Castellan.

“Still trying to find out who I fancy?”, he asked with a shit eating grin, and you couldn’t help but blush. But before you exposed yourself any further, you went into offense. As well known, attack was the best defense.

“You mislead me intentional”, you accused him. “The list includes every girl from camp. If Annabeth not wrong, you must like one of them.”

And you both knew Annabeth was never wrong.

“Actually, you forgot one person on your little list.”

That couldn’t be. You checked the list, more than once. You hadn’t! But it wouldn’t hurt to check the list another time.

“Give me the list”, you demanded, but Luke just hold the list over his head out of your reach. This was how he wanted to play it? Fine by you. Springing to your feet, you reached for the list, but Luke was taller than you. Tiptoeing you unconsciously moved closer to Luke. You first realized how close you were, as he wrapped his arm around your waist. Fighting a blush you hold your breath. You were so close, that Luke could certainly feel your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

“You are missing from the list”, he whispered, and you just could gape. That was too good to be true. That must be a dream.

“Because you can’t fancy me.”

“Why not?”

Truly confused, Luke furrowed his brows. Never had you seen him like this, and slowly you realized that he wasn’t joking. He didn’t want to trick you, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. Had you not wished for this for a long time?

“I’m not pretty like the Aphrodite girls you dated”, you confessed your insecurity. But Luke didn’t want to hear anything about it.

“In my eyes you are. You are tougher, braver, smarter, and far more beautiful. You are perfect. Can I kiss you?”

Lost for words, you could just nod. Carefully taking your face in his hands, he stroked back your hair, before lowering his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet, slow and everything you ever wanted. Sadly, it was over way too fast.

“I’m very glad Annabeth told me to help you with your project, on the day we fought. Otherwise, I wouldn't have stolen your list”, Luke confessed, still caressing your face. Oh, you see what she did there.

“Seems like she did set us up. Should we prank her for this?”

“Did I already tell you, that you are perfect?”            

[fluentmoviequoter]

Home to My Family

Amazing idea from @avada-kedavra-bitch-187!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After you give birth to twins, they're taken by a nurse for checkups. You soon realize that she's not a nurse, so Tim calls in reinforcements to save your children and catch their abductor.

Warnings: child abduction, r just gave birth but story begins post-labor, angst, happy ending with fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Congratulations,” the doctor says as your second baby is placed in your arms. “Two healthy babies.”

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, your eyes on the baby boy in your arms.

“A nurse will be in shortly to take them for full checkups,” someone informs you.

“How do you feel?” Tim asks.

You look away from your son and smile at the sight of Tim holding his daughter. She beat her brother into the world by nearly three minutes, and Tim has been enraptured with her since then.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “We did good.”

Tim scoffs and lays his hand on your son’s back as he corrects, “We did great.”

“Hello, Bradfords,” a nurse greets with a knock on the open door. “I’m here to borrow these babies.”

You watch as Tim hands your daughter to the nurse to be placed in a bassinet before he turns to you to take your son. It makes you uncomfortable to hand them over so soon after giving birth, but the first checkup is necessary. Tim takes your hand and sits on the edge of your hospital bed to wait together.

“Did you call Angela?” you ask.

“Where are those pretty Bradford babies?” another nurse singsongs as she enters. “Checkup time!”

You furrow your brows, but Tim is on his feet before you can ask any questions. Tim is heartbreakingly familiar with the reality of evil in the world, and he realizes before you that something terrible has happened. As he races into the hall, fear settles over you as tears build in your eyes. If the real nurse is here now, who has your children? And where are they?

The nurse leaves to double-check that your babies weren’t transported by another nurse, and you’re left alone. After several minutes alone, scared, Tim returns and shakes his head. His jaw is clenched tightly, but you can tell he’s only a moment from breaking.

“I reported it to the department,” Tim says, his voice tight. “Angela’s on the way and I let her know too.”

You nod before you sit up carefully, wincing in pain as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

“Hey, hey, no,” Tim murmurs, rounding the foot of the bed. He lowers before you and lays his hands over your thighs. “You just gave birth; you need to rest.”

“I need to find them, Tim. We have to find them!” you exclaim through your cries.

“I know. We will, I promise we will.”

“But you don’t need my help.”

Tim smiles at your attitude, understandable anger building beneath your pain, fear, and tiredness.

“Your help isn’t the issue, it’s your health.”

“Timothy,” Angela greets. She walks to your side and hugs you tightly. “Tell me everything.”

You lie back carefully as Tim recounts the events of the past few minutes. Angela nods along, then looks around your room.

“They’re still in the hospital, I’d bet,” Tim concludes.

“Grey stationed officers at every opening to keep it that way,” Angela responds. “There’s plenty of hiding places in a hospital. But Tim…”

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I have no idea who would do this. I’ve put plenty of people away, called CPS hundreds of times, any of those people could have decided to return the favor.”

Lucy and Nolan knock on the open door, and Tim waves them in as Angela draws a diagram of the hospital on the whiteboard opposite you. Lucy walks directly to your side while Nolan stands beside the door to watch the hallway.

“What do you need?” Lucy asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “Other than the obvious.”

“We’re going to find them. Half of the station is here for you.”

“There’s only one option that finishes this quickly,” Angela decides. “We split up and search every floor of this hospital.”

Tim looks to you rather than answering, and you promise, “I’m okay to be alone. I trust you, all of you, to find them and bring them back to me. Do whatever you have to do.”

“We will,” Tim promises. “Nolan, stay here, keep an eye on this hallway. Lucy, you’re with me.”

Lucy squeezes your hand kindly before she walks to Tim’s side. Nolan steps out of your room with them and closes the door. Completely alone, all you can do is wait.

“Hey,” Tim calls urgently. A male nurse spins and raises his hands in question. “Have you seen a nurse in pink scrubs with twins?”

“There’s lots of nurses, pink scrubs, and twins here, sir,” the man answers.

Tim takes a measured step toward him, and the man steps back urgently, bumping into the desk behind him.

“Do you want to be charged with aiding and abetting a kidnapping?”

“Sir, if you’ve seen a woman in pink scrubs with two bassinets, you need to tell us now,” Angela interjects.

“I haven’t,” he answers quickly. “I swear I haven’t.”

Tim steps away from the scared nurse and sighs.

“This floor is clear, no sign of them,” Angela reports.

Tim’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he retrieves it without looking away from the empty hallway.

“I remember when I wasn’t allowed to look at my phone on duty,” Lucy muses.

“Your children hadn’t been abducted,” Tim snaps. He reads a message, furrows his brows, and then says, “Angela.”

Angela knows that Tim using her first name isn’t a good sign, and she's proven right when he passes his phone over. “Where is this?”

“I can’t tell. The message seems familiar,” Tim replies.

Angela zooms in on the picture while Tim repeats the message to himself. Lucy moves beside Angela and looks at the picture, pointing to any discernable items in the background. The image shows your son in the bassinet front and center, and while it’s clear that they’re still in the sterile, white hospital, it’s unclear where.

“Supply closet,” Angela realizes just as Tim says, “Keiran Tumble.”

“The counterfeiter?” Lucy asks. “What’s his problem with you?”

“I arrested him, but I’m also why he lost visitation rights for his kids. They were in the warehouse with the printing fumes. He hasn’t been out of prison long.”

“Prison for counterfeiting?”

“Federal prison. The Reserve pressed additional charges. When he got out, he got served with the papers about his kids.”

“Wait,” Angela interrupts. “You said it was a female nurse.”

“Keiran’s girlfriend,” Tim guesses. “I didn’t see her, she wasn’t there when we raided his operation, but I’ve heard plenty about her.”

“Me too. Tim, she’s suspected of at least three murders. This isn’t a manhunt; we have to find her without risking your kids.”

“ Supply closet?” Tim repeats. “Let’s find the right one, and then we move in. She makes one move toward them, and you drop her.”

“Tim, maybe you should sit this one out,” Lucy suggests.

“No,” Angela answers. “If this were Jack, I’d want to be right there when we found him. Look that monster in the face and remind her that at the end of every day, I go home to my family.”

“I’m more use here, Chen,” Tim assures. “How’s Nolan?”

“He said everything’s clear there. Only a few nurses through since we left.”

Tim nods, but Angela purses her lips in thought.

“What?” Tim inquires.

“Isn’t your room across from a supply area? Wouldn’t someone have needed something by now?” she asks.

“No one saw them because they didn’t go far,” Lucy realizes.

“Let’s go!” Angela exclaims.

Fiddling with the blanket over your legs, you think about what you will do when you get your babies back. Kiss them, apologize even though they won’t know what’s happening, and then beg Tim to take you home. You refuse to think about any alternative.

“Yep,” Nolan says on the other side of your door. “All clear here, too. Good luck.”

“C’mon, Tim,” you whisper.

You trust him more than anything, but right now, your fear threatens to override all of your rational thoughts.

Suddenly, a single gunshot sounds. Immediately after, you hear screams and loud promises that everything is alright and everyone is safe. You, however, refuse to believe it until you see your husband and children. Frozen in uncertainty and fear, you count your shallow breaths rather than running through possible scenarios.

Two firm knocks on your door are followed by Nolan smiling as he holds the door open. Tim steps in with both of your babies cradled in his arms and a relieved look. You release a shaky breath, then smile as tears roll over your cheeks.

“It’s over,” Angela promises as she hugs you. “We got her.”

Tim walks to the other side of your bed and carefully lowers the twins to your chest. They coo softly in their sleep, none the wiser about what they’ve been through. Holding them against you, you kiss their heads and whisper that you love them.

“Do you know what you need now?” Lucy asks.

“Get me out of here,” you beg, smiling.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she answers, leading Nolan out of the room.

“What happened?” you ask Tim.

“Do you remember Keiran Tumble?” You nod, and he places his arm around your shoulders as he continues, “He got out, mad about his arrest and losing his kids, and sent his girlfriend to make me feel some of the same pain. Or that’s the working theory.”

“It’s right,” Angela adds. “Only a criminal would be that stupid.”

"So, Nolan radioed an all-clear, got her guard down, and we went in. She shouldn't be out for a very long time."

You lay your head against Tim’s shoulder and say, “I love you.”

“Aw, I love you, too!” Angela jokes.

“If you weren’t our first choice for godmother, I’d kick you out,” Tim tells her.

“You love me.”

“Thank you,” you interject. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

“I’m going to go fill in Grey and then make sure your house is ready for an early return,” Angela says as she steps toward the door. “Need anything else?”

“You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for,” you answer. “I’ll call you later.”

“Like she won’t still be at the house when we get home,” Tim mumbles.

“Hey, I filled up your freezer with comfort food, be nice to me, Timothy.”

Alone with your babies, you smile as Tim extends his finger to your slowly waking son. You’ll never get tired of being with them, and there’s no one else you’d rather have by your side than Tim Bradford.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Broken

Wonze x Child!Reader

Summary: You break your arm

There's not really any other way Lucy can describe you but depressed.

With your arm stuck in a cast, you're severely limited in what you can do and you just kind of trudge after Keira.

The atmosphere in the house has been a bit frosty since the accident and Lucy knows it's her fault. She's the one that wasn't watching you on the climbing frame at the park until after the nasty tumble that had your arm snapping when you tried to put it out to stop your fall.

Keira's right to be pissed off at her but your own bad moods have noticeably worsened everything.

You cry a lot more now and you keep whacking your cast on things that wouldn't usually cause you pain.

"How's baby bear?" Georgia asks at breakfast one morning.

"Sad," Lucy replies sullenly," She can't leave Keira's side for even a minute. I tried to give her a bath yesterday when Kei was on the phone but she just cried the whole time. Her arm's been bothering her too."

Georgia makes a sympathetic noise, head turning to where you and Keira have just walked in.

It's not an uncommon sight now to see you in Keira's arms. You don't want to leave them almost as much as Keira doesn't want you to leave them.

You sniffle a little as Keira sits you in your usual seat between her and Lucy and you stiffly place your casted arm onto the table. What makes it worse, is that it's on your dominant hand so you're struggling a little bit to do everyday things like feeding yourself and drawing.

Lucy loads up your fork and shovels food into your mouth. Your appetite has been affected by your mood so it's always hit and miss how much you're actually going to eat for breakfast so she's hoping to get as much down you as possible before your mood finally catches up with you.

You turn away when you've had enough, pushing your food away and looking over at Keira.

"Bear," Lucy says softly," Don't you want to eat some more? You haven't eaten much."

"No, thank you," You say sullenly, moving to climb into Keira's lap, resting your head on her chest and curling yourself into her body.

Keira sighs as she rises from the table. "I'm going to see if Leah can cheer her up. I'll be back in second."

"Jesus," Georgia says as she and Lucy watch Keira go," You're right. That kid is so depressed. She's had that cast on for at least a week now. You'd think she'd have adapted by now."

"She will," Lucy replies, suddenly feeling defensive," She's getting there. It won't be long now. She's getting better."

"I heard she had to miss her friend's birthday party," Georgia says," Keira said she'd been looking forward to it."

Lucy sighs, pushing her food around her plate. "Yeah. It was the day after she broke her arm. Bear was pretty bummed at missing it."

"I can imagine. Being so sad doesn't suit her."

"Hopefully, Leah can snap her out of it."

No matter what Lucy's hoping Leah will do, it doesn't really seem to be working.

Auntie Leah's sitting with Beth from Arsenal and she's trying to get you to detach from Mummy but you refuse.

"Come on, bear!" Auntie Leah laughs," Don't you want to see this cute video I've got?"

You think for a moment. You really want to watch it but you don't want to let go of Mummy at all. Letting go of something was how you got hurt in the first place and Mummy's more sturdier than the climbing frame and you feel safer holding her tight.

She would never drop you.

She's your Mummy bear and you're her baby bear.

She's big and warm and safe and you press yourself further into her like you could melt into her skin and stay there forever.

"How about some chocolate?" Auntie Leah asks," You can hang out in my room with G and I and we can eat chocolate until our tummies hurt."

Normally you would agree with that. You love spending time eating chocolate with Auntie Leah and G but you don't really want to be away from Mummy and Mum. It's bad enough that Mum's across the room from you but you can see her so you know that she's safe.

"We can even watch Brother Bear!"

That nearly breaks you. Brother Bear is your favourite movie ever but Mummy and Mum don't really like screen time so you only get to watch it if you've been very good.

But, still, you'll give up Brother Bear if it means you can stay with Mummy and Mum.

You shake your head. "Want Mum," You whisper against Mummy's skin.

She sighs, resting her head on yours. "Okay, bear," She says, defeated," Let's get Mum."

When you get to Mum, she's whispering to Georgia, who smiles at you before scampering off to Auntie Leah.

"What are you two planning?" Mummy asks suspiciously as she sits in the seat that used to be yours.

"Nothing bad," Mum says quickly before her hand runs over the back of your head and you turn to look at her," How are you feeling, bear?"

"Itchy." You hold your casted arm out to her.

Mum's gotten good at scratching your cast itches.

"Itchy?" She echoes," Well, we can't have that!" She takes a small wooden spoon out of her pocket and starts tapping at the cast. The doctors told her that she's not allowed to let you put stuff down it in case it causes infections so hopefully the vibrations will knock out your itchiness.

It does for the most part and you flop your head back against Mummy when Mum is done.

"Thank you, Mum," You say.

"Of course, bear."

Lucy watches as G and Leah wander out of the room and awaits the text she knows is coming.

You get a bit restless doing nothing and Keira gently runs her hand through your hair to settle you against her again.

"Come on," Lucy says when she finally gets the text," We've got a little surprise, bear."

Your brow furrows in confusion but you don't put up a fight as you're taken back up to the bedrooms. You bypass Mummy and Mum's room in favour of going to Auntie Leah and G's.

Both of them are waiting for you.

Their beds have been pushed together to create a mega bed and their sheets have been made into a little nest with space for all five of you to curl up in.

There's bags of your favourite snacks and your favourite chocolate milk. The title screen of Brother Bear is paused.

You sniffle.

"Oh, no!" G says," Don't cry!"

"These are happy tears," Mum says, wiping them from your cheeks," Isn't that right, bear?"

You nod. "Happy tears."

"Are you ready, bear?" Mummy asks," We're going to have nice chill day with G and Auntie Leah."

"Ready."

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Lucifer x Reader - Markings (NSFW)

Both you and Lucifer love leaving marks on each others, some more visible and longer lasting than others

But Lucifer is not only the King of Hell, but the King of creating a beautiful masterpiece with your skin as his canvas

Bite marks everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE

He is obsessed with sinking his teeth into every inch of skin he can; biting, sucking, licking, you name it!

It becomes difficult to hide the hickies he leaves on your neck sometimes because he can never let the old ones heal before he's nipping at the same spot!

Of course his favorite place to leave marks is your thighs, of course~

Let's not forget his claws!

Although he doesn't use them as often as his teeth, the sensation of his nails being dragged up and down your skin makes your head spiral

First a light grazing against your sensitive, but quickly turns to sharp but fleeting pain down your arms, shoulders, legs, and back

It's never enough to break through your skin; he is very careful with his movements

But it does leave scratches on your skin for days

There was one nigh however, when you tell him that you want to be permanently marked

"Love, are you sure? It could...I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm sure Lucifer. I know you won't, I trust you. I can handle it, I promise."

"But why?..."

"Because I want to be reminded every time I look in the mirror that I am yours."

"Oh hon...I am yours as well, forever. Where do you want them?"

"I want you to mark your favorite places on me.~"

"Well that's going to be quite difficult...because every part of you is my favorite~"

Lucifer wastes no time as he latches onto your neck with his teeth, biting down harder than normal, drawing tiny bits of your blood to pool around the newly formed wound

You yelled in surprise, but reassure him that you're alright; you need him to keep going

Lucifer works his way down your body, stopping at your breasts to nip and bite at both of your lovely mounds

He flips you over laying you flat on your stomach as he brings a hand to the top of your back only to slowly drag it all the way down to your spine; his claws digging into your soft skin

The pain you feel does not last as he begins to pepper kisses where his claws just were

He quickly takes a bite of your supple ass, giving you a cute little smirk when you role your eyes at him

He flips you back over onto your freshly marked back, placing his hands on your hips

His hands are quickly replaced with his mouth as he bites down on either side

At last, he pushes you legs to the side, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he stares back at you with sultry eyes

"I might have lied before, sweetheart. I think I do have a favorite part of you... And these will be for my eyes only.~"

This man is in between your thighs so fast, you have no time to respond!

He spends the most amount of time there, gnawing on every inch of your inner thighs that he can get his eager mouth on

All the while his claws begin dragging themselves down your outer thighs

This was the most painful part for you, but you loved every second of it

Before you could thank him, his mouth is pressed right against your soaked cunt

"Well, since I'm already down here...Can I, my love?~"

"Always, Luci~"

He flashes a quick smile before diving straight into your pussy; his tongue making quick circles around your sensitive clit before shifting and moving to tongue fuck your dripping hole

It doesn't take long for you to cum on his more than eager mouth

He drinks you all up like a man dying of thirst before hovering over you with a drenched chin

"Delicious as always, my angel...but there is one mark I haven't left yet.~"

"W-Where's that?"

"This one doesn't last, unfortunately. But I love to leave it every single time we do this.~"

"Lucifer?~"

He leans down to your ear and whispers "I always love to mark your pretty little womb with my cum, my darling~"

[scorpioriesling]

Jealousy, Jealousy

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Lucien x reader

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Oh the joys that come with being Rhysand's sister... and the priveledges, or lack thereof.

SR’s Note: Ughhh this isn't very long, but it was cute and gave me all the little feet-kicking feelings I needed. <3 Per @hardcoremarvelfan 's request to use prompts #5, #9, #28, and #49 -- enjoy! xo

“So you’re telling me you weren’t staring at Feyre’s chest during the meeting?” You accuse. Lucien rolls his eyes, chuckling at the implication.

“Please, Y/N — you know she’s just a friend, she always has been.” He coaxes. You halt your stride, folding your arms over your chest. A cool, Autumn breeze ruffles your hair over your shoulder, and Lucien gazes lovingly at you. Unfortunately, you can’t return the sentiment.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t look at her sometimes,” you know you sound pathetic, but you know what you saw. “I saw you, Luc. Your eyes were peeking.” Your mind races to the image of Feyre, her chest perfectly sat beneath a thin, lavender gossimer gown that left little to the imagination. Anddddd Lucien’s eyes hovering for a moment too long.

“Dear,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “With all respect, you weren’t even at this meeting-?” You swat his hand away.

“You do forget my brother allows me to know and see things going on that I’m not technically “invited” to.” You seethe. Lucien’s mouth flattens into a straight line. “You could fix all this, you know,” you imply.

Lucien quickly snakes his hands around the backs of your thighs, fingers clinging to the juncture where your ass meets your legs, drawing you close and gently kissing up your neck. You hate how he can get to you so easily — a soft moan slips from your lips before you push against his chest, his legs braced on the wooden fence line behind you. You growl, looking menacingly into his eyes.

“If you don’t wanna kiss me, I’ll find someone who does.” With a little hmmph, you continue your path, strutting along the fence line, arms crossed over your chest. Lucien’s large hand grasps your bicep from behind, spinning you to face him once more.

“I’d never let another man touch you,” he stares deep into your eyes. “Let alone do this.” His soft lips are on yours in an instant, moving in a rhythm you both know so well. His hands hold your waist tight, and you finally give in, uncrossing your arms and holding his face in your hands.

“Why so worried today, hm?” He asks, pulling back an inch. You sigh — you know he’s right. He didn’t look at Feyre for more than a few seconds, definitely not ogling her as you’d overdramatically accused him of doing. His gaze never even really dipped below her chin, if that.

“Lucien…” you start. His fingers trace up and down the sides of the soft tunic you wore. He places another soft kiss to your cheek before attentively staring into your eyes again.

“I’m sorry Lucie. I’m just… I don’t know. I’m just…”

“Are you jealous?” He tries. Your shoulders sag, and he continues comfortingly tracing lines down your arms.

“It’s not that… well, okay maybe it is.” You start. “It doesn’t matter that I’m the Rhysand’s sister, or a member of the Inner Circle, I’m just… I’m always forced to sit things out. And Feyre, who just got here, gets to wear pretty dresses and sit in on every meeting…” Lucien kisses you once more as you trail off.

“I can give you something else to sit on?” He grins cheekily, and you roll your eyes.

“Lucien! Seriously, I mean I’m trying to be real with you right now and explain-“ He cuts you off by smushing his lips onto yours once more, and you groan under his touch, pulling back moments later.

“Stop trying to kiss me when I’m trying to yell at you!” You say, a hint of playfulness in your tone. Lucien holds you close, threading his fingers through your hair as his lips find your ear.

“Yell at me all you want — no dress that Feyre or any other female has ever worn has brought me to my knees quite like the sight of you, my love.” You melt at his words, allowing for the roaming of his hands to find the underside of your bum, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. He sets you gently atop the fence, continuing to kiss down your neck.

“And don’t ever,” he breaks the assault for only a moment, to peer into your eyes. “…feel like you need to be sorry for your feelings. I’m always here to listen, dear….” another soft kiss to your jaw. “…and I love you just the same.”

[magics-neptunes-things]

We are Infinity

Hi guys!

I had several asks for a new Luna one, I feel like I’m writing a lot for them those days but I think we all need some fluffy stuff after Mariona’s departure 😔 I’m still mourning.

TW : pure fluff honestly

It was hard for Lucy to let Ona go to the Spanish camp, where she knows that the staff and the head coach won’t really take care of her girlfriend. She got hurt on her face and near her eyes and to get better soon it would have been better for her to rest at home.

But it wasn’t on the Spanish’ plans, so Ona had to take her plane with Alexia, Mariona and the other player from the Barca to go to camp. Lucy specifically asked Alexia to have a close look at Ona, the younger girl being a little too reckless at her taste sometimes. Lucy’s request activated Alexia’s protectiveness and Ona couldn’t make a meter without having her captain near her, slapping her hand away from her face, asking her to hydrate herself or checking several times a day her wound.

It was pretty cute to be honest and Alexia doesn’t stop, even if Ona walked on her feet almost three times before she gets called by the medical team to have a closer look of her injury. Alexia was there too, listening to the discussion and even giving her opinion.

Ona wasn’t really happy to go back home, to be honest. She loves camp and Leila, who she liked very much and doesn’t see a lot, was called too. She was happy to be able to play with her again, but it would be for another time.

They gave her only two hours to get her things together before leaving and she even run into Jana at the airport, who were coming at her place.  Ona was excited for her friend too; she knows how much Jana would be happy to be here.

While she was waiting for her plane, she finally calls her girlfriend, who is herself in England for the camp. Lucy doesn’t know for now that she was leaving.

“Hola Bonita” Lucy says happily, making Ona smile.

“Hello beautiful” Ona answers back.

She can hear noises in the background, and she wonders what Lucy is doing. She sometimes forgets that there is one hour less in England. It’s not a lot, but it’s sometimes very much too.

“I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?” the Spaniard says.

“We are at diner but it’s alright. Is everything’s fine?”

To be honest, Ona thought about making a little joke to Lucy about here face going suddenly not good as a revenge for asking Alexia to look after her. She then changed her mind, but she haven’t thought that Lucy would be the one asking if there is a problem.

“Yeah, I mean… You know, how you asked me to be careful with my wound?”

“Mhm?”

Lucy’s tone was perfectly neutral, but Ona knows better. She can draw with precision the face of her girlfriend right now. Lips pinched, eyebrows raised and waiting for the end of the sentence while knowing that she will not like what will follow.

“Well, they decided to send me home” she finally say, not wanting to play with her girlfriend nerves.

“Oh, thanks God” Lucy sighs.

Ona hears someone piping in the background and she frowns slightly, trying to hear who it was. Lucy answers to the girl but her voice is almost muted, like if she putted the phone against her chest or something.

“It’s Ona, she’s going home.” She hears from afar before that Lucy’s voice is clear again. “I’m so glad Onita, it’s really a great thing.”

“I don’t know, I’ll be all alone in Barcelona.”

“What do you mean? You will be with your parents, your brother, Mapi and Bruna, the dogs…”

“Well, they are not you.”

“I will be back before you know, I promise.”

Ona can hear Lucy’s smile in her voice and if she’s not able to hear what is said next to Lucy, she easily can catch the teasing tone with which we are talking to her girlfriend.

“Who is talking to you?” Ona asks when she hear Lucy answer a « fuck off ».

“Maya. She’s so annoying.”

There are protestations and Lucy is laughing, making Ona smile. She misses her girlfriend laugh so much and they are separated since only two days.

“Oooh I miss her! Say hello to her for me”

Ona knows Maya very well; she played with her at Manchester United for three seasons before coming back to Barcelona. They were both playing on the last line on the pitch, being a lot next to each other during the games.

“I miss you too Ona!”

The Spaniard chuckle when she hears her friend’s voice, probably stuck against Lucy. She then hears Lucy groan something and asking Ona to wait for several seconds before she’s talking again. Without any noises or voices behind her this time.

Even with Lucy reassurances, Ona hated her time at Barcelona without her. Sure she went to her brother’s house, she went for a lot of walk with their dogs, she ate lunch almost everyday at her parent’s house and she saw Mapi, Pina and Patri sometimes too. Not Bruna because she went to the camp after she left.

But the time is long without Lucy.

Even longer now that she knows how much her girlfriend is struggling with her knee. It’s not a surprise to be honest, their schedules are insane. Even if she hates being at home when her team is playing important games, she’s happy to have several days to rest correctly. This is something Lucy would have needed too.

And worse, Sarina made Lucy played the two games, every single minute. Saying that Ona is mad is very far from the truth. She’s fuming while looking at her girlfriend playing with her extra bandage on her knee.

Lucy complained about her knee several times on the phone during their calls and Ona knows how much Lucy is in pain to talk about it like that.

“Just ask to go home” Ona said during one of their FaceTime.

“I can’t, Ona. There isn’t anyone to replace me if I left. The team would be into deep shit.”

She knows Lucy is right, but having seen her girlfriend so upset after the first game and their lost crushed Ona’s heart. She almost jumped in a plane to England, but Lucy begs her not to do it. Ona wasn’t really happy about that, wanting to take care of her girlfriend if the England squad doesn’t seem to be able to do it.

Ona is jumping and stressing so much during the last game that her brother put several shots of tequila in her hands to try to relax her. It kind of worked, even if she’s a little bit tipsy when she FaceTime Lucy latter that night.

“Ona are you drunk?” Lucy asks after hearing her girlfriend giggling about everything during several minutes.

“Nooooo, not at all my Love, why?”

“You are” Lucy laughs. “What have you done; you burden?”

“Nothing” Ona giggles again. “It was Joan, he forced me.”

“He sure did” Lucy says, rolling her eyes, before asking with a softened voice “You are at home, right?”

“I am. At home and safe” Ona smiles too “I can’t wait for you to come home though. I really miss you.”

“Tomorrow you’ll have me in all for yourself again. It won’t be long now.”

“I can’t wait”

Ona rolls on her side to get under the cover of their bed. The dogs are sleeping on Lucy’s place in the bed, but Ona didn’t say it to Lucy. Dogs aren’t allowed in their bed usually.

“How is your knee?” Ona asks with a suddenly sleepy voice, the alcohol starting to kick in.

“The ice was very welcome, to be honest.”

She shows her knee wrapped in ice and Ona frowns. She hates seeing her girlfriend in pain and even more if she’s not with her to help her to get better.

“This is so bullshit, honestly.”

“I know” Lucy shrugs.

What can she say more? She knows her girlfriend’s opinion and she know too that if things were reversed, she would have the same. But she doesn’t want to pick a fight now, she would rather look at Ona falling asleep.

“Sleep well Bonita” Lucy whispers when she spots Ona’s heavy eyes.

The younger girl only answers with a vague groan before falling asleep for good. Lucy smiles and for the first time since they started talking, she doesn’t hang up. She cute the sound on her side not to wake her girl up, but she falls asleep a half-hour later looking at dead-asleep Ona.

Ona is more excited than ever. Lucy was only several minutes from her now, Ona can follow her on the app on her smartphone. Of course, her girlfriend told her when she left Paris and when she was in Barcelona’s airport, but being able to follow her like this help her to be patient. Or to be even more excited, maybe.

“Mommy is coming home Narla!” Ona sings, making the dog waltz in the living room.

Narla barks and Ona really think that the dog understands what she was saying. Laughing softly when she tries to lick her face, Ona put her softly on the ground, to hug a jealous Coco. She kisses her head several times but stops when she hears a car stopping at the bottom of their building. She just has to take a look by the balcony to see her girlfriend collecting her suitcases before going in the building.

Ona is almost running when she goes to the door and Lucy just has the time to open it before being struck by a brunette storm. Lucy laughs when Ona jumps on her arms, securely passing hers around her girlfriend’s waist.

She lets Ona hiding her face in her neck, allowing herself to do the same in her hair, breathing with pleasure the comfort that her smell offers her. She smiles when the younger one start to kiss her cheek and then every part of her face she’s able to reach.

“Hi” Ona says happily when she retracks her head to have a better look at Lucy.

“Hi” Lucy laughs in return.

She puts slowly Ona down, kissing her lovingly on her lips this time. She doesn’t remember who and when they close the door, but it doesn’t really matter. After the kiss, Lucy grabs very softly Ona’s chin between her fingers to tilted it a bit and have a good look at Ona’s injury. Rolling her eyes but still smiling, Ona lets her do, waiting patiently while Lucy is looking at it.

“It’s look better, sì?” Ona asks after several seconds.

“It does” Lucy approves softly.

She then takes Ona in her arms again to hug her, enjoying Ona’s heath against her. The Spaniard sighs of well-being and closes her eyes to enjoy the moment.

“I missed you so much” Lucy mumbles against Ona’s hair.

“I missed you too” Ona smiles, raising her eyes to look at her.

The sweet moment is interrupted by Narla, who seems to think that all of this is very cute but she waited enough for her humans to have their reunion and that it’s now her turn. The small dog nudge Lucy’s knee with her nose, making both girls laugh.

“You know I missed you too!”

Lucy manages to take Narla in one of her hands without letting Ona go. But it was before Coco came too, barking with what could be vexation.

“Oy and you too of course! I’ll never forget my boy. Sorry, Bonita” Lucy grins at Ona when she needs to let her go.

Too happy to have her girl back to even imitate a pout, Ona let Lucy with their dogs, taking her suitcases directly to the bathroom to start the laundry. She smiles hearing Lucy’s talking to the dogs, even if she can’t really understand all she was saying. They both are barking happily, and Ona doesn’t hear when Lucy asks “Alright, where’s Mama now?”.

She’s soon spotted though, Lucy’s hugging her from behind only ten seconds after that.

“Fuck the laundry, Babe. I need to catch all the hugs and kisses I missed” Lucy mumbles against Ona’s neck.

“Mh I don’t know if you deserved it, you choose the dogs after me just two minutes ago” Ona jokes before turning in her arms.

“You know very well that I’ll make it up to you”

Lucy has a smirk and a playful face, who make Ona smile wider. She knows that they will be separated again during the Olympics – if Ona is selected of course – but those separations aren’t easy anyway. Ona feels like it got even harder every time. She just too used to have Lucy next to her in her daily life.

Lucy drags her on the couch, and they put something on TV that none of them is really watching, too busy to hug, talk, look and kiss each other. Maybe not in that order.

“I’m hungry and I probably should go take a shower” Lucy yawns when the sky is almost dark.

“Go shower and I take care of the food” Ona decides before getting up from the couch.

She was already turning her mind upside down to know what to cook to Lucy, when the girl takes her by the arm and make her sit on her lap. She stoles a rather hard kiss to the younger one before letting her go.

“Now we can go” she smirks, getting up to even left the room before Ona.

Ona stays still in the kitchen for several minutes after deciding that it was better to command something for tonight. They are both tired and the fridge is empty, they really need to go grocery shopping tomorrow. When she’s alone, she’s usually feeding herself with fruits, avocado toast and Iberic ham, much to Lucy desperation.

Lucy finds Ona sitting on the table in the kitchen when she’s showered, smiling at her with her phone in her hand.

“What?” Lucy asks.

“Nothing. You’re here, walking with your two knees. I’m just happy.”

How can someone be so cute, adorable and dramatically hot at the same time? Lucy asks herself for the hundred times since she met Ona.

“Happiness looks good on you.”

With two steps, Lucy is in front of Ona, passing her arms around the smallest girl. She just can’t help herself, with time she even sometimes forgot that they are supposed to be private about their relationship in public. So, in private, she just can’t keep her hands away from Ona. The Spaniard being touchy, she never complained about it.

“You can congrats yourself, you are the reason of my happiness.”

“Look at you, who is the sweet talker now?”

Ona laughs, it was one joke during the first days of their relationship. Lucy liked to hit on Ona with the most random sentences ever. It wasn’t in attempt to flirt really, she just wanted to hear Ona’s laugh every single second. She had other things to flirt with Ona and make her fall for her. She never had to try hard to be honest.

“But I see no food cooking. Were you planning to give yourself to me for diner?”

“You wish” Ona laughs when Lucy wiggles her eyebrows. “I ordered to the Thai restaurant across the street. It will be here in like ten minutes.”

“Perfect.”

She made Ona squeak when she takes her suddenly in her arms to go to the couch again and dropping her on it before wrapping herself around Ona.

“We have time for more hugs until they come” she decides.

“We have” Ona confirms, smiling softly.

Looking at the ceiling, she starts to stroke Lucy’s back under her shirt. She can feel her muscles contract under her soft skin, and she just have to take a look at Lucy’s face to realize that she’s half-asleep. Lucy must feel her girlfriend’s gaze on her though, because she mumbles

“’m not asleep”

“Sure, Beautiful” Ona laughs slightly.

She smiles again when Coco jumps on the couch to install himself next to them and raise her head a little bit when she hears noises that she can’t really identify.

“Oh. Looks like Narla wants to show you her new rocks” Ona informs Lucy when she sees the dog starting to align to rocks in front of the couch.

If Coco groans before heading back to sleep, Lucy groans and sit down, rubbing her eyes. But she can’t be mad at her dog who have a strange thing for rocks when she looks at her with so much happiness, wiggle her tail with excitation. And she just has to look at Ona’s smile to feel her heart melt. She’s the happier girl in the world. She would never complain about anything.

[phantompanties]

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Body Art

Relationships: incubus oc (Lucius) x chubby!fem!reader

Summary: this is a self indulgant work because I'm a girl thats a little on the chunkier side and I've suffered body dysmorphia my whole life. I hope other chubby girlies can feel comforted by this work like how it comforts me. Also this is based off that drawing I did of the chubby reader in the lingerie this is what I said i was cooking lol

Tags: mentions of toys, body writing, comfort, mentions of body dysmorphia, oral sex, vaginal sex, body art, lingerie, switch dynamics, creampie, soft ooey gooey sweetness, laughter during sex, lucius being a huge goof

Length: 3.3k words

You stirred awake from the late morning sun shining through your window, and when you woke up, you noticed quickly that Lucius wasn’t there in your face or by your side like usual. It wasn’t uncommon, sometimes you woke up and he was in another room doing chores or making a silly art piece out of popsicle sticks and a deck of cards, but when you went to look for him, he wasn’t home at all. He didn’t carry a phone, so you couldn’t call him to ask where he was. Your question was answered when you found a little note stuck to the fridge with a heart-shaped magnet. It read: “Good morning, my love! I hope you slept well. I went out grocery shopping since we’re running low on some things. I’ll be home soon! XOXO your Lucius

Ps, I’m going to buy a few gifts for the both of us as well. I hope you’ll like what I bring home =;)”

You snorted, admiring the way he drew his little smiley faces with his horns. He was such a goof. You decided to make yourself some tea and sit on the couch for when he returns.

Around half an hour later, the lock of your front door clicked open, and in ducked your boyfriend in his human disguise, carrying tons of bags in one trip. His teal eyes lit up at the sight of you sitting on the sofa and he grinned wide. “Darling! You’re awake! How was your sleep?”

You put your cup down and came over to greet him. “Hi, Luci.” you stood up on your toes and he bent down for a kiss. “I slept fine. Are these all the bags?”

“Yep. I got everything on the list and a few extra things. Oh! And our presents.” he says the last part with a sing-song voice and holds up a pretty sizable black bag.

“Ooh, it’s heavy,” you say, weighing the bag in your hands. “What’d you get?”

“Patience, darling,” he says, putting all of the bags on the floor. “Let’s get all of this in the kitchen before we go through our spoils.”

You giggled. “Okay.”

After putting all of the groceries away, Lucius, now in his true form, excitedly led you to the living room with the black bag.

“Okay, so, context… you know when you said you wished you had some more toys the other night?”

“Is this whole bag filled with sex toys?” you ask, mouth agape.

“Yes! I picked out things especially for both you and me to use together!” he says with practically heart-shaped eyes. I got all of that and something extra special for you! Open it up!”

You pulled the bag closer to you, opening it up and pulling things out one by one. There was a small selection of dildos varying from reasonably sized to downright monstrous—he assured you that those were mostly for him unless you wanted to work towards using them one day—a couple of vibrating plugs, a rabbit vibrator—to which he said “the best for my bunny”—fuzzy handcuffs, a heart-shaped spanking paddle, a hank of black silk rope, a multi-coloured pack of skin safe graffiti markers for body writing, and most surprisingly, a strap-on. You blushed at this. “A strap?” you asked him.

“I did say I bought things for both of us.” he giggles, kissing your cheek.

You giggled, flustered. “O-oh, okay… gosh, so many new things to try…”

“And that’s not even the best part!” Lucius exclaims, looking like he was so excited he could explode. He pulled out a sleek box from a bag, handing it to you like it was Christmas morning.

You opened the box and gasped at what dwelled inside. It was a set of leather lingerie adorned with a zipper on the bra and the crotch of the panties with lace along the trim of both, leather thigh garters, and to top it off, a black leather collar with a big metal ring attached.

Lucius looked like hearts could pop out of his head. “Do you like it? When I saw it I immediately thought of how adorable you’d look! I might be biased because of my love of leather, but ahh, I can’t help it!”

“It’s beautiful Lucius, thank you…” you say, holding up the bra.

“My favourite part are the zippers.” he giggles, hugging you and swaying side to side. “It means I can ravage you without needing to take anything off! They’re so perfect…”

You flushed at the sinful thought of him unzipping the panties and taking you with them still on.

“Darling…” Lucius purrs.

“What?” you ask.

Lucius gave his best set of puppy eyes, clasping his hands to beg. “I really want to see you wearing them… pretty please? I’ll do whatever you want for a whole year…”

You snorted. “You don’t have to beg so much for that, Lucius, you goof. I’ll go change right now.”

The way the demon’s eyes lit up in such childlike joy made you wonder if he was suddenly ascending to heaven. You kissed him, called him a goober and took the box to your bedroom so you could do a grand reveal.

Once you had the door closed, you put the box on the bed and stripped. Once nude, you slipped on the panties, hooked on the thigh garters and their straps, then fitted your arms in the arm holes of the bra, zipping it up. Finally, you put the collar on, adjusting the big metal ring in front. At this point, you knew you were supposed to feel cute, but you couldn’t help but feel a little too exposed. Like, yeah, it’s lingerie, it’s supposed to be revealing… but the way it hugged your hips and squished your love handles felt… weird. 

You looked into your tall mirror, trying to pinpoint where you felt wrong. Your eyes immediately went down to your belly and you frowned. To you, it looked like a busted can of biscuit dough spilling from a leather case. You pinched at the pudge that was being squished by the tight garment, lip wobbling as you felt so wrong. Your thighs in their garters looked like they were being squeezed to death, even though they weren’t that tight, and you couldn’t help but think the collar did nothing more than highlight the fat on your face. Your face fell when you realized that you hated how you looked in this garment and it made you feel terrible because Lucius was so excited…

A knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. “Darling, are you alright in there? Are you having trouble putting it on? I can help you!” he says with that teasing lilt. You couldn’t help the sad whimper that escaped your lips, and Lucius’s voice immediately softened. “Darling? Can I come in?”

“Y-yeah…” you sniff, trying to hold in the tears.

When Lucius opened the door, he gasped, his face immediately erupting in a blue blush. “Oh, Asmodeus… you’re so-!”

“Hideous…” you finished for him.

He stopped in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “What? No, sweetheart… I was going to say gorgeous! What’s wrong, my love? Do you not like the set?”

“N-no they’re fine… I just… I don’t like how I look… wearing them…” you mutter, looking back at your reflection. 

“Oh, darling, darling, darling…” he says, walking over to you and wrapping his long arms around you. “I think you look fantastic… I’m practically salivating over here! What’s the matter?”

“Don’t I look too… big?” you ask.

“Oh, my love, don’t say things like that!” He says, gently grasping your chin and having you look at him. “You’re perfectly fine the way you are! You look so damn delicious that I’m going crazy trying to hold myself back!”

“Are you sure…?” you mumble.

“I’m one thousand percent sure. And if you’re having trouble seeing what I see from my words, then I’ll just have to show you through actions.”

Lucius’s pierced lips ghosted over yours as his large fingers intertwined with yours. “May I kiss you, darling? May I show you how beautiful you are to me?”

“Yes…” you breathed.

Lucius closed the gap, kissing you sweetly and passionately as his hands roamed down your creamy skin. His blue tongue invaded your mouth, and you sighed as one of his roaming hands groped your leather-bound breast. Gently, he guided you to your shared bed, laying you down and leaning on top of you. 

“My beautiful, soft master…” he sighed, still groping your breast and kissing your neck. “So sweet and wonderful to cuddle… like a sweet teddy bear…”

You bit your lip as Lucius unzipped your bra, revealing one of your nipples, licking around it and popping it into his mouth. You moaned as he softly tugged the hardening bud between his teeth and he grinned. “Does that feel good, bunny?” 

“Y-yeah…” you sigh.

“Mmmh… good… I love it when you feel good… so delicious…” Lucius revealed your other nipple, giving it the same amount of attention. “Oh, so sensitive… I love your soft chest, bunny… it makes such a nice pillow…”

His fingers trailed up and down your skin. “You’d look so good with tattoos like mine, darling… I’d trace them all day long…”

Lucius suddenly looked like a lightbulb went off in his mind. “One moment. Sorry, darling. I’ll be right back.” he gave you a quick kiss on the lips, rushing out of the bedroom, then right back in holding the pack of graffiti markers he’d purchased. “This is perfect!” he exclaims, rejoining you on the bed.

“Are you gonna draw tattoos on me?” you ask, watching him carefully open the plastic packaging.

“Better.” he giggles. “I’m gonna write everything I love about you all over you. Don’t worry, it’s washable.”

You smiled as he showed you the selection. “What colour would you like, darling? We have… magenta, dark red, black, dark blue, and purple. I'm partial to the blue, personally, but the purple doesn’t look bad either…”

“I like the purple,” you say, picking it out of the package.

“Yeah, purple? Good choice, darling… purple will look so good on you.”

Lucius put the rest of the markers aside, plucking the purple one from your fingers and undoing the cap.

“Let’s see here… where to start…” he says, giggling with anticipation.

Lucius started with your breasts, writing “soft” on one, and “squishy” on the other. His eyes lit up with joy as he fully unzipped your bra, opening it to reveal them fully, he then took the marker and drew hearts around your nipples. “I once knew a succubus with heart tattoos like this on her boobs. Honestly, it’s so cute. We should get you permanent ones.”

“On my nipples? That’d hurt so bad,” you say.

“Oh, true.” Lucius giggles. “Your nipples are so sensitive after all… maybe it’s better to stick with temporary.”

Lucius moved up onto your chest, drawing a heart organ over where your real heart would be located. Over it, he wrote: “The sweetest of hearts.”

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” you say as you look down at it.

“I’ve had plenty of years to practice.” he winks.

Moving down, he wrote “Cutie pie” on your tummy, along with “so huggable” and “gorgeous” with many hearts around them. He traced your love handles, writing “handle” on the left and “bars” on the right. You snorted as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. When he got to your womb area, he tapped the end of the marker to his lips, trying to think of something good to write. He eventually had an idea, writing something surrounded by hearts with an arrow underneath pointing to your pussy. It took a second to read it upside-down, but when you realized, you looked up at him incredulously. “Lucius’s love tunnel???” you question, laughing.

“I was hoping you’d laugh,” he says, swooning. “I love your laugh so much, darling.”

You flushed as he spread your plump thighs and licked his lips. “Oh, you have no idea how tantalizing the thought of unzipping these panties and shoving my face in there is… but no, I must write more.”

You whined. “But I want you to shove your face in there…”

“Patience, darling… I have more messages to decorate your skin.”

On both of your inner thighs, Lucius wrote “Place ears here”. Around the garters, he drew hearts and wrote “Biteable” and “so soft”.

“I can sense you’re aroused, bunny. Are my messages making you feel good? Asmodeus, you look so beautiful with markings… I’m drooling…”

“Lucius…” you whine. “I need you…”

“Just one more, my love, and I’ll give you everything you want and more.” His demonic eyes looked around for a large blank space for this last message, choosing one around your shoulder to write a big “I love you” with a bunch of hearts. You melted at this and you looked up at him with your sweet eyes. “I love you too Lucius… now take me already!”

Lucius capped the marker, throwing it to some corner of the room. “As you wish, master.” he purrs, he kisses down from your neck to your breasts, to your tummy—taking extra care to kiss and nibble there— then finally, FINALLY reaching your panties, unzipping the garment with his teeth and spreading your legs wide. He licked his now purple-smudged lips and dove in. You sobbed into the air, grabbing his horns as he licked, slurped, and sucked on your delicious clit. His tattoos glowed brightly as he siphoned that sweet lust from you, moaning and whining into your pussy. He slipped that long, pierced tongue into your drooling hole, flicking it and curling his prehensile muscle like a tentacle as he looked up into your watery eyes. Fuck, the view of you watching him eat your pussy made him throb, and he ground his bulge into the bed to soothe the ache of his cock. You bucked your hips and wailed. Fuck he felt so goddamn good. You couldn’t take much longer. When he licked a long stripe up your folds and kissed your clit, you came hard, and he rushed to lick up that sweet sweet nectar. He withdrew his long tongue into his mouth, groaning and biting his lip. “Oh, my love… my sweet girl… your love tunnel tastes so good…”

You snorted, playfully smacking his chest. “Don’t call it that! You’re so embarrassing!”

“Aww come on, you love it! You’re laughing!”

The two of you giggled, and he crawled back up to kiss you. The two of you made out for a moment before you pulled off and looked him in his eyes. “I wanna suck it,” you say, grinning.

“Oh? Isn’t this supposed to be me making you feel good?” he teases.

“Pleeeeaaase?” you whine. I want it so bad…”

Lucius giggled as he pecked your lips. “Who am I to deny my master what she wants?”

Lucius moved off of you so you could move, and you both swapped positions so he leaned against the headboard. You started at his lips, kissing them sweetly and passionately. Slowly, you moved down, kissing his neck and chest, tracing his tattoos with your tongue. You went over to one of his pierced nipples, licking and kissing the pert bud. Lucius sighed, intertwining your fingers. “You make me crazy, darling… mmf…”

You smirked as you continued to kiss and lick down, unzipping his jeans and letting his cock spring free. Lucius aided you in taking his pants off, and you took his hard cock in your hand, stroking it up and down slowly. “Fuck, you’re so hard…” you say, admiring the blue tip that wept with precum. “You must be aching…”

“Mmmhn… I am, darling… fuck, the way you stroke me like that is so nice…”

“Yeah? Do you like it when I do this?” you as softly as you run your thumb along his sensitive tip. The demon shuddered. “Mmngh… yes, sweetheart…” he rolled his head back. “I love your soft hands…”

You dipped your head and gave him a nice long lick up the underside of his shaft, paying special attention to his piercings. Sweet lord the whine and full-body shiver that left this man could’ve made you cum on the spot. You swirled your tongue around his tip, getting it nice and wet. Bit by bit you began to work it into your mouth, getting it as far as you could fit without gagging. The amount you couldn’t fit you stroked in your hands as you worked the shaft up and down, up and down. You breathed through your nose, making sure to run your tongue over his most sensitive spots while you took his cock in your mouth. 

“Ahhh… oh, fuck, darling… fuck…!” Lucius whines. “S-so good! You’re so good at sucking my cock! Unnh… I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum, darling…!”

At this, you pulled him out of your throat, squeezing at the base. He sobbed at the loss of that delicious stimulation. “Master…!”

“Not yet, Luci.” you giggle. “I want you to cum inside me.”

Lucius licked his lips, grinning wide. “Oh, in that case… I’d be happy to. Come, bunny, let me lie down flat.”

You got up off the bed, letting Lucius lie down on his back. He patted his lap. “Come here, darling, lie on top of me. I’ll take care of you.”

You crawled on top of Lucius, lying on your back across his tall body. He raised your hips with his clawed hands, rubbing his length up and down your drooling pussy. “Did sucking my cock make you this wet? Oh, darling…”

“Mmnnh… Lucius… fuck me…” you begged.

Lucius lined up with your hole, shoving it in easily with how wet you were. You whined as Lucius grunted from how fucking DELICIOUS it was to have your gummy walls squeezing his cock. “Oh fuck, bunny… mmnghh… that’s good… so fucking tight on me… good girl… such a good girl…” he moaned, kissing your neck as he began thrusting up into your pussy and roaming his hands across your body. 

“Luciuuuuss!” you sobbed. “God, yes, Lucius…! I love you…!”

“Nnh… I love you too darling, fuck… Asmodeus, your pussy is sucking me in… it feels so so so fucking good, baby… nnh… say something for me, baby… say you’re beautiful…”

“I-I’m beautiful…!” you gasped. Lucius pulled the ring on your collar as he thrust harder. “Good girl… now say you’re perfect the way you are…”

“I’m… p-perfect the way I am… nngh!” 

“Fffucckkkk… so good, bunny… I can feel you tightening on me… do you like it when I tell you how much you mean to me? Do you like it when I have you say how beautiful you are? Fuck, yes you do, darling… you can’t hide it from me… you’re so close… let me help you with that…”

You sobbed as Lucius’s deft fingers rubbed your clit in tight circles, mewling as his pierced cock hit you in all the right places as he fucked into you and kissed your cervix. “Come on… cum… cum for me… cum on my fucking cock… say you’re beautiful as you cream on me, bunny…”

“Ahh… annh… fuck!!!” you sobbed. “I’m beautiful! I’m so beautiful, FUCK!” you wailed as the tension snapped. 

Lucius whined as your walls fluttered and gushed on his cock, and he gave one last deep thrust before he painted your insides white with his cum. 

The two of you panted heavily as you rested on each other, basking in the afterglow. Lucius chuckled as he kissed your shoulder. “So… do you feel better, my love?”

“Yeah…” you sigh. “I feel much better…”

“Good.” he giggles, peppering your neck in kisses. “I’m so happy when you’re happy, darling.”

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 32

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

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Friday, January 8; 12:45 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I'm packing my suitcase while Alexia watches. The latest news has lifted my spirits. I've got the green light everywhere. Wiegman is allowing me to leave after my clean week. I was on time every day and didn’t snap back at any of my teachers when they provoked me for talking too much. Classes have become dull since we returned, as we're nearing the end, and there's nothing left to do. In two weeks, we'll finally change classes, and to my surprise, I got accepted into my first choice. Lucy couldn't resist filling me in on what went down in the meeting. It seems I barely made it, thanks to the support from Wiegman and my homeroom teacher, who found my efforts more than impressive. I managed to raise my average from six to twelve in just two weeks. That was proof enough for them of my hard work. I can't wait to find out about my new class and schedule now. Alexia, meanwhile, got into sports with her sister and Laia. As for me, I learned that I'll be with Leah, Alessia and Lotte. I'm pretty happy. At least I won't be alone.

- "What are you planning to do this weekend?" Ale asks me.

- "Nothing special. And you?"

- "I don't know yet. I really want to see Jenni, but I'm going to my grandparents' place."

I give her a sad smile. I feel sorry for her that she can't stay. I don't dare tell her that, unlike her, I won't be bored. Lucy is hosting me at her place this weekend. I've never been this excited, even though I try to hide it to avoid drawing attention. I'll finally get to see where my mentor lives. It’s a big deal.

- "Isn't Bronze coming to see you today?"

Oh, screw it. I'm tired of keeping secrets from her.

- "I'm going to her place..." I mumble quickly.

- "What?" she asks, her eyes wide.

- "Sorry... I know I should have told you earlier, but after your last reactions about her, I didn’t dare..." I say, biting my lip.

- "You could have told me! You know I'm not the one to criticize your relationship with Bronze."

- "Whoa, hold on. Our relationship doesn't go beyond friendship... At least, I think so. That's what she said we are..."

She chuckles at my nervousness. I playfully shove her, which makes her laugh even more.

- "You seem awfully nervous for a simple 'friendship,'" she teases.

- "It's Mapi and you who make me feel this way. I feel like we're doing something wrong. I assure you, I'm not interested in her the way you think."

- "Don't take it that way," she smiles. "I wasn't even talking about that kind of relationship. Anyway, I'm happy for you, or rather, for you. She never offered me friendship, so enjoy it."

- "I wanted to ask her about your relationship to see what she had against it, but I haven't had the chance."

- "Oh no, don't do that. The reasons don't matter to me. Besides, since you've been around, I feel like she appreciates me a bit more than before. But still, I've always wondered how you got close to her."

I sigh in resignation. Looks like it's time to explain everything to her. Mapi had already advised me to do so before she left — more like forced me. She argued that Alexia has a right to know if I trust her. I won't get a better opportunity to bring it up. I just hope Lucy never finds out...

- "To be honest, I confide in her about my past. She helps me deal with my demons, and that’s what brought us closer."

- "Oh," she says, surprised. "So she knows more than I do?"

- "She knows even more than Mapi," I chuckle at her expression. "I don’t know... Lucy has this way of making it easier to talk. It's like she understands my situation and has all the answers to my problems."

- "That's good, then. As long as it helps you, that's what's important, but be careful not to get lost in your feelings, because that can happen fast in situations like this."

- "Yeah... I know," I say with a small smile. "Well, I have to go. She's waiting for me outside."

- "Yep," she says, checking her watch. "I have to leave too. By the way, did you tell her about your nights?"

- "No."

- "You promised me you would," she scolds.

- "I know, but nothing's happened since then, so I didn't."

She gives me a stern look, showing her disappointment, as I expected. I can’t help it if she's naive enough to believe me. I've already got Lucy on my case about so many things. I don’t need her on this too.

- "It won’t come back to bite you, I promise."

- "Yeah, right. I wonder who knows her better between the two of us."

- "I'll take responsibility if she finds out. But I really have to go now. She'll scold me for taking too long."

- "Hmm... Have a good weekend," she grumbles.

I hug her and wish her a good weekend in return. Then I leave the room with my suitcase and backpack. Now that I’m out of sight, I smile with excitement. I reach Lucy's car, which she parked in the same spot as last time. I leave school without any regret. She might have refused to let me go back to Miami, but at least she didn’t stop me from leaving school. I told my mom that I’m staying with friends in Seattle using Alexia's phone. I also told Mapi the truth. I wanted at least one person to know what's going on. I’m not sure if Lucy has seen me yet. I assume she has when she opens the trunk from inside. Yet, when I join her up front, I find her on her phone. I give her one of my brightest smiles, expressing my current joy.

- "Hey," I say.

- "You're late," she reprimands, raising an eyebrow.

- "Sorry, Ale held me up."

- "Hmm."

- "Grumpy!"

- "No, that's you," she retorts with a wink.

I laugh as she drives off. She’s not wrong. Between the two of us, I’m the grumpy one. I always voice what’s wrong out loud. She tells me we need to stop by the supermarket to get some groceries first. It reminds me that she lives at school just as much as I do. It's strange doing something so mundane with her. I’m not used to seeing her outside of school. As usual, I watch the scenery go by, humming along to the music playing from the car speakers. After the second song by the same artist, I realize Lana Del Rey  is playing.

- "I didn’t know you liked this kind of music."

- "Now you do. You don't?"

- "Oh, I do. I like it, even if I don't listen to it often."

- "I didn’t either at first," she laughs. "I ended up liking it."

I smile as she sings the chorus. It’s the first time I’ve heard her sing, and I enjoy her voice. I turn back to the window. I can’t tell where we are. I imagine she’s heading towards her neighborhood. We arrive at the supermarket she mentioned earlier. She hands me a token to get a cart. This scene is a déjà vu moment from a few months ago. Without complaining this time, I fetch the cart and join her at the store entrance.

- "Anything particular you want for tonight or the rest of the weekend?" she asks as we go down the aisles.

- "Are you planning on cooking every day?" I ask, surprised.

- "There’s more to life than fast food, in case you didn’t know," she laughs.

- "No, my question was more about whether you know how to cook... You’re not planning on poisoning me, are you?"

- "Now that you mention it, that’s a tempting idea."

- "Ha, ha, ha! You’re really sadistic when you want to be."

- "I know," she smiles. "And yes, I can cook."

- "I can’t wait to see your cooking skills then. I might even compare you to Sam."

- "What I didn’t tell you is that you're going to help me."

- "Oh... Well, it’s up to you if you want your kitchen on fire," I joke. "Sam doesn’t trust me enough to let me help."

- "You’ll help, and I promise to make sure you don’t burn anything," she teases, stopping at the butcher's counter. "But seriously, what do you want to eat?"

I glance at the perfectly displayed meat. At least it looks appetizing. I choose chicken cutlets, and she picks up some other things that I don’t pay attention to. We continue down other aisles as she gradually fills the cart while I follow her.

- "You really can’t cook?" she asks, picking up the conversation again.

- "I never had the chance to learn. When we moved to Barcelona, Sam was always there. And in Portugal, I used to bake with my grandmother sometimes, but that’s it. I tried cooking with Mapi once, but it was a disaster. Sam really scolded us that day when he saw the state of his kitchen," I laugh, remembering.

- "You must not be very good," she laughs. "I wouldn’t mind teaching you a few things this weekend if you’re up for it."

Her offer surprises me. No one has ever asked me if I wanted to learn how to cook, not even Sam. I smile and nod. I like the idea. I’ve always wanted to learn deep down.

- "Why not. How did you learn?"

- "I’ve been living alone for several years now, so I picked it up over time. I was like you at first," she admits. "So you’re not a lost cause, I promise," she says, ruffling my hair.

- "Can you tell me more about yourself...?"

- "Why?"

- "I don’t know, I’d like to get to know you... The real you, outside of school. You know a lot about me, so I thought... Maybe it could be mutual now."

- "We’ll see. You might learn a few things about me this weekend."

My eyes light up. It’s the first time she hasn’t flatly refused this request. I was expecting her to brush me off. Our shopping comes to an end. At the checkout, she confirms that we’ll be going out with her friends tomorrow night. She asked me about it yesterday, and I was pretty excited. I’m curious to see what kind of people she hangs out with. Although I was hesitant about not knowing anyone, she reassured me by saying Ingrid and Jenni would be there. Once done, we head back to the car where we load the groceries in the back seat since the trunk is full of our stuff. I bombard her with questions until we arrive at her place, such as, "Are we in your neighborhood now?" and "How long have you lived in Manchester ?" She surprises me by answering everything. I learned that she’s been living here since her college years and moved here with Jenni. I gathered that their friendship and bond go way back and that they’re both from Portugal. Their friendship seems similar to the one I have with Mapi, though theirs probably goes back much further. She told me they were roommates in Jenni’s apartment before she got one of her own after they both started dating. Since then, she’s been living in the apartment she’s in now. This conversation kept us occupied until we arrived in front of a building. From what I can see, it’s a quiet, upscale neighborhood. The building’s exterior is inviting. I thought she would park outside, but she pulls into an underground garage with multiple parking spots and garages. I’m not sure if she has a garage, but she parks in a space.

- "Please tell me... Either you live on the ground floor or have an elevator, because I'm not climbing all those stairs with all our stuff."

- "What? Aren’t you in need of some exercise?" she teases. "Oh, right. You don’t like jogging.

"- "Ah, ah, ah! You told me we’d pick it back up when the weather was better outside!"

- "You pick it back up," she corrects me. "I never stopped. Come on, Miss Lazy, let’s move. We’ve got an elevator waiting."

I don’t hide my relief. I quickly follow her outside to help with our suitcases and the grocery bags. It’s a good thing there’s an elevator with all the stuff we have to carry. I learn as we press the elevator button that she lives on the seventh and second-to-last floor.

- "Thanks again for having me."

- "No problem. I hope you’ll like it."

- "I’m sure I will. It can’t be worse than school."

The elevator dings, and Lucy lets me exit first, pointing to her apartment door. She sets the grocery bag down to unlock the door. Once again, she lets me enter first. I step in hesitantly, taking in her apartment. I’m left speechless just seeing the living room. I didn’t expect something so beautiful and... my style. She gives me a gentle nudge so she can pass by and head toward the kitchen while I explore the space. It’s a large open-concept living area that stretches horizontally. I move towards the kitchen, which is in the back right corner. Everything is new. It’s a true American-style kitchen, just the way I love. It’s separated from the rest by a bar that hides the countertop. There are high stools in front, just like in my kitchen in Miami. A large light-wood dining table sits just in front of the bar, with black chairs that contrast with the brightness of the room. Most of the furniture matches the table’s color. When I look the other way, I notice that all the walls are white except for the left one, which is covered in dark gray brick. It blends harmoniously with the rest. A TV is mounted on that wall, with a large sectional sofa and a small wooden table. The two spaces are clearly defined. I don’t know where I’ll be sleeping, but even if she offers me the couch, I think I wouldn’t mind since it looks so comfortable. It’s probably more comfortable than my small bed at school. I only have one word: Wow. It’s a dream apartment!

- "Do you like my apartment?" she asks with a playful grin.

- "If you ever think about selling it... You’ll think of me, right?"

- "I’m not planning on selling it," she chuckles.

- "In that case, can you take me as a roommate? I promise I’ll be quiet on the couch!"

She laughs, saying she’s glad I like it so much, but unfortunately, she’s not looking for a roommate. I finally take off my jacket and help her unpack the groceries. I’m not much help since I don’t know where most things go, but she shows me where everything belongs. All her cupboards and the fridge were empty, proof that she’s hardly ever home.

- "Why get an apartment on your own when you’re almost never here?"

- "I wasn’t alone at first. I just kept it because I needed a place to go outside of work. Plus, you said it yourself... how could I give up an apartment like this?"

- "True, but still!"

I put away the last item in my hand, then settle on one of the high stools as she offers me a drink from the other side of the bar. I accept when I see her pouring herself something. She places it in front of me before leaning on the counter.

- "Why stay at the camp when you have an apartment like this? Seriously, if I were you, I’d come back every night."

- "It’s mandatory to stay... well," she corrects herself, "I volunteered to stay at first, and it just stuck."

- "But you never do night patrols."

- "Other instructors handle night surveillance."

- "Really? How many are there?"

- "Six. One per floor on both sides."

- "Still, your job really isn’t conducive to a normal life. You can’t even have a family life! Doesn’t that bother you? Well, I guess it wouldn’t if you don’t want a wife and kids."

- "Of course I’d like a relationship and maybe even a family if the person I’m with wanted that."

- "Then why don’t you leave the camp?"

- "I don’t plan on staying there forever. I have plans."

- "Really? You never told me. You’re not going to abandon me in the middle of the year, are you?"

- "No. If I leave, it’ll be at the end of the school year."

I sigh with relief. I can’t imagine finishing the year without her. She smiles at me before downing her drink in one go.

- "Come on. I’ll show you your room."

- "I’m not sleeping on the couch?"

- "Why, do you want to?"

- "It already looks more comfortable than my bed at camp. It’d be fine by me."

- "It is, but I also have a second bedroom. Which do you prefer?" she teases.

- "I think the bedroom will do," I say, making her laugh.

We grab our suitcases, and I follow her to the double doors in the middle of the living room, between the kitchen and the living room. She opens them to reveal a hallway with five doors. She skips the first two and opens the second one on the right.

- "Here’s your room. Mine is right across."

- "Thanks for welcoming me like this. You didn’t have to."

- "No problem," she smiles softly. "Well, I’m going to put my things away. Make yourself at home. The bathroom is there if you need it," she points to the door between the two bedrooms.

I nod, and she disappears into the room opposite mine. We leave our doors open, but I quickly lose sight of her. The room she’s offering me for two days is cozy and modern. I have a large double bed where I’ll likely sleep very well tonight. There’s also a desk and a chair that complete the room, along with two large lamps as decoration. For storage, there’s a large built-in wardrobe near the window with three large sliding doors, one of which is a floor-to-ceiling mirror. I love this type of wardrobe. They don’t take up much space and are very practical. The walls are white, but the dark furniture contrasts again. I put my suitcase down without unpacking. I don’t plan to impose myself by using the wardrobe. I don’t even know if there’s anything inside, and I don’t want to find out. I leave everything in place and go to join Lucy, leaning against her bedroom doorframe. I watch her put her things away in the same wardrobe as the one in my room. Her room is just as large as the other. There are just more personal items, and the desk is replaced by a small couch facing a small TV on a matching stand.

- "Already done?"

- "I just dropped off my suitcase. Your room is cool."

- "Thanks. You can come in, you know," she invites me.

I step timidly into the room and decide to sit on the bed, watching her put her things away.

- "Is yours okay for you?"

- "It’s perfect. Nothing could be worse than the one at camp anyway."

- "True," she chuckles. "And the one at home?"

- "Slightly bigger than this one."

- "You mean twice the size, I imagine."

- "Well... yeah," I laugh. "I can’t help it if my mom has money."

- "Oh, I didn’t say anything."

- "Your apartment would be perfect for me. It’s really nice."

- "Glad you think so. Do you want to go out tonight?"

- "Honestly? I’d rather stay here and do something low-key if you don’t mind."

- "Not at all. I was just suggesting. I’d rather stay in too. You could use some rest. You’ve had dark circles under your eyes lately."

- "Movie night?" I suggest to change the subject.

- "Why not. We could make a pizza to eat in front of the TV. And maybe some popcorn for dessert."

- "I love that plan. You know I adore you, right?"

- "Doesn’t take much, does it?" she laughs.

- "It’s nice to have a normal evening in a normal apartment."

She offers me a sympathetic smile. A comfortable silence falls as she finishes unpacking her things. She lives the life I’d like to have. I sincerely hope to get there someday.

- "Can I take a shower before all that?"

- "Sure, of course. You can go now. The bathroom is next to your room."

- "Okay, thanks."

I go to grab my bath things and pajamas from my suitcase. I step out of the room at the same time as Lucy. She decides to accompany me to show me how her shower works and to make sure I have everything I need. I doubt her instructions are necessary when I see how modern the bathroom is. She has a walk-in shower and even a clawfoot tub right next to it. It makes me feel like her apartment is huge. She has storage under the sink and a column next to it. There are also shelves where her towels are stored. She places a large and a small towel beside the sink for me. The last thing she does before giving me space is show me where the essentials, like the hairdryer, are. I put my things where there’s room, then undress to step into the shower. I close my eyes to enjoy the soothing hot water. I don’t stay too long, remembering I’m not at home. When I get out, I wrap myself in the large towel and do the same with the small one for my hair. I dry off quickly to put on my pajamas, which consist of an oversized T-shirt and shorts. She’s seen me in worse, so I shouldn’t feel self-conscious. Before returning to the living room, I dry my hair a bit more and make sure to tidy up and fold my clothes. I smile when I see her behind the bar, cooking. The environment feels strange, but it’s very pleasant. She smiles immediately when she sees me. I blush when I catch her eyeing me with surprise. She quickly regains her composure. For the first time, I see a hint of embarrassment on her cheeks.

- "Sorry, I didn’t expect you to come out dressed like that."

- "No worries... I thought it wouldn’t be a problem."

- "It’s not," she reassures me.

- "Do you need any help?"

- "No, it’s fine, I’m almost done."

I sit back on the bar stool I used earlier. I watch her sprinkle a handful of grated cheese over the freshly made pizza. I’m a bit disappointed she didn’t wait for me to make it.

- "It looks good."

- "You can tell me what you think when you taste it," she says with a small smile. "Can you keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t burn while I take a shower?"

- "Yep," I reply as she puts it in the oven. "Can I make myself useful in the meantime? Set the table, for instance?"

-«  If you want. You can bring everything over to the small table. »

She points out the cupboards and drawers before disappearing into the hallway. It's funny how easily we manage to coexist. I could easily get used to this. I take advantage of her absence to bring everything over to the small table in the living room, as she instructed. The TV is already on a music channel. I allow myself to sit on the couch and flip through channels to find something interesting. I realize it's been ages since I’ve done something so ordinary. My moment is interrupted when I hear the bathroom door open. Lucy’s return leaves me speechless. I fully understand the effect she had earlier. Unlike me, she’s wearing a tank top that flatters her perfectly, and her hair is pulled up in a messy bun that makes her look very cute. I can't stop staring at her. But she ignores me and checks the pizza in the oven. For the first time, I notice a tattoo on her arm. I didn’t even know she had one. I quickly turn away when she finally glances at me.

- "Caught staring, Batlle."

I blush furiously. I'm glad she can't see me right now. I don’t remember ever seeing her this undressed before. She must have been like this in front of me during my withdrawal, but I don’t recall. It has more of an effect on me than seeing her in her regular clothes instead of her uniform. I jump when her hand touches my shoulder.

- "I’m talking to you, Ona."

- "Sorry, I wasn’t listening. What were you saying?" I ask, mustering the courage to turn around.

- "I was asking if you’ve already picked a movie? Or maybe even a show?"

- "Hmm, I’m not sure," I say, thinking. "Harry Potter?"

- "Harry Potter?" She raises an eyebrow.

- "I’ve seen them all, but never in order. If you don’t want to watch them, I’ll do it alone when I have the time."

- "No, no, that works for me."

- "If you don’t like—"

- "I like the series," she chuckles. "I was just surprised by your choice. »

I smile and nod eagerly. I get up to retrieve it at her direction. When I return to the living room, Lucy has put the pizza on the small table and is sitting on the couch. I smile when I notice she’s serving us.

- "What do you want to drink?"

- "Water, please.

Lucy is already using the remote to find the first Harry Potter movie. This is even better than the evening I imagined. I take a sip of my drink as she starts the movie. I shift to find a more comfortable position. I groan when I realize I forgot to get my plate. Lucy laughs, understanding my dilemma, and brings it over to me.

- "Thank you," I whisper.

- "Go ahead, give it a taste."

She says this before taking her first bite. I had set out utensils, but it seems she doesn’t plan on using them. One thing is for sure: it looks delicious. I don’t waste any time digging in, making sure to keep my plate under my chin to avoid messing up her furniture. I moan in pleasure as the pizza’s flavors hit my taste buds.

- "Oh, damn. This is amazing!"

Lucy laughs at me. This pizza could be compared to one of the seven wonders of the world, and I mean that.

- "How did you manage to hide your culinary talents for so long?"

- "It’s just a pizza, you know," she laughs.

- "Exactly! I can’t imagine what it would be like if you made a proper dish. Sam has made me pizzas before, but they were never as good as this one."

- "We’ll see how yours turns out when you make one for me someday."

- "I already told you I’m a walking disaster. Sam even banned me from using his kitchen when he’s not around."

- "I’m not surprised," she laughs. "You seem close to him."

- "Yeah, he’s become a close friend. He’s really cool. I really should introduce you to all of them sometime."

- "That’ll be hard."

- "Not if we keep in touch after the school year ends..."

- "We’ll see," she smiles.

Our evening continues with various conversations while we enjoy her pizza. The movie serves as background noise. I don’t mind. The first Harry Potter is probably the one I know best from watching it so often. We waited until it ended before putting our plates in the dishwasher and making popcorn. We moved on to the second and then the third movie before deciding we’d had enough for the night. We were both exhausted from our week—especially me—so we decided to head to bed. I was more than happy to crawl into a comfortable, cozy bed where I had no trouble falling asleep.

Saturday, January 9th, 03:20 AM - At Lucy’s place.

I sit up in a panic, realizing that I’m trembling. I look around to remind myself where I am, which only makes me more anxious. I hope I didn’t scream or anything, but I quickly realize my hopes are in vain when the bedroom door flies open to reveal a worried Lucy. I try to hide my shaking, but it’s impossible as it worsens. Lucy quickly understands what’s happening and grabs my cheeks to make me look at her. I see her lips moving, but no words reach my ears. She pulls me into her chest. I resist at first, but eventually, I collapse into her embrace, desperately clinging to her shirt. It takes five minutes or maybe more for her voice to finally reach my ears. My senses slowly return. I bury myself deeper into her when I feel her fingers gently running through my hair.

- "It’s going to be okay. I’m here now."

- "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry," I repeat over and over between breaths.

- "It’s nothing, just a nightmare."

Tears stream down my face ever since she arrived. I’m sticky with sweat, but that doesn’t stop Lucy from holding me close.

- "I-I should have... I should have told you... Ale told me to."

- "Shh, calm down. I already know."

- "W-What?"

- "Alexia came to talk to me. I already know. I asked her not to tell you so you’d come to me yourself, so calm down."

She gently rocks me. It’s soothing, but not enough. Especially after what she just revealed. I panic when she tries to pull away from me. It only makes me cling to her tighter.

- "Hey, I’m not going anywhere."

At those words, I allow myself to pull back. Fear flashes in my eyes the second she gets up from my bed. She smiles at me tenderly.

- "Relax, I’m not going far. Do you want to sleep with me?"

I look at her in surprise. I didn’t expect her to ask that.

- "You don’t mind?" I ask, lowering my head. "Isn’t that crossing the line for a student-instructor relationship...?"

- "I suppose we can overlook that detail in this situation, and besides, we’ve moved past that point a long time ago... Come on, go lie down in my bed, I’ll get you some water, okay? I won’t be long."

- "Thank you..."

She helps me out of bed, and we leave the room. I walk straight ahead while she heads to the living room. The little light is on in the room. At least I won’t bump into any walls or furniture. I slip under the covers, choosing the spot near the wall. I think I picked the right spot, feeling the coldness set in. I pull the blanket up to my chin, clutching it tightly to find warmth. Lucy wasn’t lying when she said she’d be back quickly. She brought me a glass of water, just as promised. I sit up to drink it all in one go before handing it back to her. She places it on her nightstand and then lies down beside me. I immediately feel her warmth.

- "I didn’t know which side to take..." I say timidly.

- "You chose well," she reassures me. "Do you feel better?"

I nod, though it’s not entirely true. Her presence is comforting, that’s all. She gives me one last smile before turning off the light. I feel her shifting to get comfortable. Not sure how to react, I lie on my back, staring into the darkness. I jump when her arm drapes over my stomach.

- "Relax, Ona. Turn around."

I do as she says and turn my back to her. I’m not sure if this is the position she wanted, but it’s the one I want to avoid facing her. She doesn’t say anything, simply pressing her chest against my back. Her hand rests on my stomach, gently stroking it. She’s so close that I can feel her breath against my hair. I feel strangely safe. It’s as if my panic attack never happened.

- "Thank you..." I whisper.

She closes the small gap between us in response. Before I fall asleep, I let my hand rest on hers, as if to make sure she won’t leave.

[gingerjolover]

Ariana! What are you doing here? - Julien Baker x fem!reader

Synopsis: soft!gf is doing jb's makeup on halloween and she just can't sit still (hc, soft!gf is pete 😭)

G's notes: okay like always, a bunch of requests combined! also had to throw in some switch!julien for y'all, she's a natl treasure

wc: somewhere around 1k (probs like 980)

warnings: RPF, makeup!julien, ariana grande!julien, subby!julien, soft!gf as pete, smutty-ish talk, no fundamental physical descriptors?

"You're going to poke my fucking eye out, princess," Julien grumbles, moving her head away quickly, her lips in an annoyed frown.

"Are you this difficult for the makeup artists working on photoshoots, or just for me?" you reply sassily, two fingers under Julien's chin, lifting her head up.

"Don't be a baby JB," Lucy says through the phone. Julien stares at the phone on the bathroom counter to her left, glaring at it as if Lucy could see her expression.

"Are you guys almost ready? We'll be there in like 10," Phoebe's voice carries through the phone.

"If Jay stops wiggling and actually lets me do their wings, we'll be ready by the time you get here," you grumble, causing Julien to pout.

"You're going to poke my eye out!"

"Baby, I do this all the time; I'm not gonna poke your eye out," you say, exasperated.

"We'll be there in 10, and then we'll pin her down," Lucy teases, Julien shaking her head quickly.

"No you will do no such thing, I'll-I'll stay still, I swear," Julien promises, staring straight at you, eyes softening when she makes direct eye contact. You smile softly, index finger and thumb gripping her chin as you pull her into a kiss; it's a small kiss but one you've put all of your gratefulness and adoration into. Julien feels it as you pull away; she knows how badly you want to make this costume work. Originally, she was stoked...when she thought she was going to be Pete... but the way your eyes looked up at her, smile so big when you had a plan where she was Ariana, how could she say no?

You're staring at her, a crooked smile on your face when you see her lost in thought. "I'm being still baby, just...get it over with, quickly," she grumbles again. You giggle loudly, holding her cheeks and jaw, very carefully (and expertly), drawing cute little wings on her eyes.

"Julien's being quiet which either means baby's killed her or she's finally sitting still," Phoebe snickers along with Lucy.

"Shut up, I can't move," Julien grits out, impossibly still.

Lucy and Phoebe laugh loudly on the other line, your giggles soft but matching theirs. "Don't laugh when you have that shit near my eye," Julien exclaims as you step back, looking at her face. Seeing Julien with makeup always throws you through a loop. "You look pretty," you murmur, Julien's face flushing instantly.

"Blegh," Phoebe gags over the phone.

"Shut up," Julien nags.

You grab the comb to start fixing her baby hairs, Julien's hair already fitted with extensions and a ponytail, a massive sweatshirt on her body. It's like she forgot the previous conversation because she can't stop squirming.

"Julien, sit still!" "My hair feels like 8,000 pounds, babe, my fucking neck hurts!"

"Listening to this is tortuous, you know?" Lucy comments, tone even, you giggle imagining her and Phoebe's deadpan faces.

"How did you guys get on with your costumes? Luce did you find some heels?" you ask, giving Julien a look, asking Lucy to speak almost as a distraction while you hold your girlfriend's head.

Lucy starts to talk about her journey to finding specific parts of her costume, Phoebe interjecting a few times. Julien squirms when you gel down her baby hairs.

You grab her chin, giving her a stern look, leaning into her ear. "Stop moving or you can forget about fucking me tonight, let me finish this," you sneer, voice unusually dominant. You pull back, Julien's eyes are wide, mouth parted open. You look at her with mocking wide eyes, a quick shake of your head as if to say "are we clear?".

"Yes, ma'am," Julien murmurs, both of your voices quiet enough not to be heard on the other line.

"Well, I'm glad you found them thrifting Luce. I feel like you got really lucky," you say sweetly, your voice returning to its soft tone. Julien feels like she has whiplash, her entire body heating up. First, how did you even hear what Lucy was saying? And second, why did you threatening her make her sweat? She clenches her thighs together, keeping her body as stiff as a board until you spray her hair with hairspray and clip in some barrettes.

"Okay, we are like 5 minutes away, so we'll see you?" Lucy asks.

"I'm coming in to use the bathroom," Phoebe says quickly.

"No problem, doors unlocked, see y'all soon," you say sweetly before hanging up, leaving Julien sitting on the bathroom counter as you go to grab her heeled boots.

Julien sits there stunned, watching you in the track pants and big t-shirt, hair up, big flannel swallowing your body. You come back, kneeling down in front of her, unzipping the heel.

"What?" you ask, eyes looking up at her. She can feel her insides stir, hating that all you have to do is look up at her for her briefs to be soaked.

"Nothing, I'm being still," Julien says cautiously, pausing between each word as if she's never spoken before. The threat of not ending the night between your thighs enough to keep her still and quiet.

You scoff softly, shaking your head as you get her feet into the boots. You hold out your hands, helping her hop down, letting her get used to standing taller. You start to clean up behind her, her hands in the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

"I was really still there, at the end...I-I did really good," she says, almost like she's trying to convince the both of you.

"Oh, you were being good? Is that what being good is?" you say, throwing words she's said to you before back at her. Her eyes widen again, almost comically, jaw dropping softly.

You turn around, giggling, your usually dominant girlfriend absolutely dumbfounded. "Your makeup looks pretty," you murmur, kissing her lips softly. She eagerly presses herself against you, chasing your lips. You laugh as you pull away, wiping her lips with your thumb. "Maybe if you're good tonight, I'll ruin it later."

[kittenofdoomage]

At Your Throat

THIS WORK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY STORIES. 18+ CONTENT AHEAD.

Summary: Temptation is hard to resist…

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: incubus!Steve Rogers x fem!reader x incubus!Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 5972

Warnings: dark!fic, angst, introverted!reader, dubious consent, enchantments, so much smut (somnophilia, implied invisible restraint, oral, fingering, tongue fucking, size kink, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, anal, manhandling, throat fucking, cum swallowing, squirting, double penetration, overstimulation, praise kink, dirty talk, begging, marking/bruising, rimming - I think that’s everything), ambiguous ending

The fair isn’t anything like you remembered from your childhood. When Lucy and Mark suggested going, you had initially been excited, but as the night wears on, it’s all bright lights and screaming kids, candy floss that’s too sickly sweet for your adult taste buds, and the worry that you’re going to step in something gross. It doesn’t help that you’re dateless, and your two best friends are still in that honeymoon phase where they don’t really register the amount of smooching they’re actually doing in public. Needless to say, you’re not sure they hear you when you say you’re going to explore on your own, with every intention of finding a quiet bench until they’re done with their fun.

The site is huge, big enough that you have to remember landmarks as you stroll. Beyond the ferris wheel, there’s a quieter spot between a wall and a merchandise stall where you find a cleanish spot, and you barely notice the woman at the stall as you sink to the floor. Your feet hurt, and you’re definitely regretting your decision not to bring a coat.

“Lost your friends?” the woman calls.

“Uh,” you shake your head, “no.”

“Taking a breather then,” she chuckles.

You smile politely - interacting with strangers has always made you uneasy. “Yeah, I guess.” She smiles back, busying herself with something out of sight. Dragging your gaze along the table, you realize she’s selling trinkets, though most of it looks like the back catalog of Hot Topic. You get to your feet and wander over, perusing the rings and pendants. “I didn’t know the fair had stalls like this.”

“There used to be more,” the woman sighs. “We’d sell all sorts of things but… well, times change.” She smiles wistfully, resting her fingers on the edge of the table. “I used to be the fortune teller here. People would always line up to see their future. Now, it seems everyone is terrified to ask.”

You could sympathize with that. A crystal ball would probably show you in an apartment with a thousand cats with the way your life was turning out. Your eyes stray to the stand of pendants, and something red catches the fluorescent flood lights in the distance. It’s a stone, a ruby maybe, an oval set in ornate silver, no bigger than a dime, hanging from a silver chain. In the very center of the stone, there’s a flaw, shaped almost like a lock.

The woman notices your trance, moving just into the edge of your peripheral vision. “Something took your fancy?” she asks curiously.

“It’s pretty,” you whisper, reaching out to touch the stone but drawing back at the last second. You can’t recall a single moment in your life you’ve ever wanted something this badly, not even as a kid. “How much is it?”

The woman smiles, but you don’t see it. “It’s a gift.”

There’s a little voice in your head warning you, yet you can’t imagine why. You ignore it, focusing instead on your desire to have the necklace. “Really?”

“Oh please, no one’s come by all night,” she scoffs. “It’s nice to talk to someone. Kids these days aren’t interested in this sort of stuff.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you murmur, though your eyes are still locked on the gem, rooted to the flaw in the middle. You don’t stop staring at it even when she lifts it from the stand, walking around the table to hold it out to you.

“Would you like to put it on?”

It feels like you’re moving automatically when you turn, moving when required so that she can fasten the locket at your throat. The silver is cool, heavier than you expected, but when you look in the mirror, it makes you smile. Jewelry isn’t usually your style, but this was subtle, classy, and probably went with everything.

Someone calls your name and it’s like you’ve been dragged back into reality. The woman moves off, disappearing through the back of the tent, and Lucy comes running up, red faced and breathless. “Where’d you go?!” she exclaims, grabbing your wrist. “Come on, Mark’s waiting for us by the ghost train.”

You grin and bear the rest of the evening, pretending to be frightened of the zombies and skeletons, almost sighing with relief when you could finally call an Uber home. Lucy attempts to coax you to a local bar but your social battery is done, and besides, you know you’re the third wheel and she’s just trying to make you feel better. They see you to the car, and wave you off, and you feel like you can breathe again once you’re away from the noise. The driver doesn’t speak the whole way - he’ll get five stars for that later.

Once you’re back in your apartment, you can shed the day, stripping down before climbing into the shower. The fair has left you feeling a little gross, but five minutes under a hot spray washes the feeling away, and you forget about the necklace until you’re staring at your foggy reflection in the mirror.

Maybe you should take it off before you sleep. It might break, or choke you. You reach for the clasp, and then your phone buzzes across your nightstand, distracting you. With the necklace on, you go to answer the text; it’s a photo from Lucy with a short line of text insisting you’re missing out. You smirk, necklace forgotten, and climb into bed, putting your phone on silent until the next morning.

The sounds of your apartment lull you to sleep. The heating comes on, and you kick off your pajama bottoms, squirming in the sheets as your dreams become more vivid. You can’t see anything, can’t move, but you can feel the warm hands on your skin, touching you, moving your clothing out of their way as they kiss every inch of you. You know there’s two of them, too many hands for one person, and after a little while, they start to talk to each other, soft murmurs of indistinguishable words.

A warm tongue slides through your folds and sends a shiver down your spine. Your dream lovers spread you open, easily manipulating you like a doll, and when the mouth on your cunt attacks your clit, you want to cry out for more. Another warm pair of lips surrounds your nipple, and you’re lost in the sensation, at their mercy but wholly content to be so.

You wake the next morning feeling like you’ve actually had several orgasms, and your panties are drenched. There’s a wet spot on the bed; your dreams were very good even if you can’t quite remember the details, so you change the sheets before work, rushing so you’re not late.

It’s hard to focus at work when you’re still thinking about your dream. You somehow get through the day, zoning out while typing, ignoring all your messages and emails for the time being. When you get home, all you can think about is going to bed, but you force yourself to stay up a little longer, eating dinner in front of Netflix until you can’t resist the call any longer. The sheets are a little chilly when you climb in; you warm up quickly and doze off contentedly.

You can open your eyes in this dream. The air is warm, and your blankets are gone, along with your pajama bottoms, and though you can’t see much in the darkness of your room, you can make out the figure that’s between your thighs. His hands are pushing them wide, and he pushes his nose right against the crotch of your panties, groaning against you. Your heart pounds as his tongue drags along your seam, reigniting the delicious thrill you’ve been craving all day.

The bed sinks with the weight of another, and a meaty hand grasps your jaw, forcing your head to turn. You strain your eyes to look up, coming face to face with a thick, erect cock, and you can barely see the face of its owner smiling down at you. He doesn’t say a word, tapping the tip of his generous manhood against your bottom lip, and your mouth opens automatically, granting him permission to use you.

There’s no rush as he rocks his hips, pushing more and more into your mouth. Finally, he says something, looking down at you like you’re a miracle with one hand on your cheek. “Good girl,” he praises, and you feel a pulse of something new in your core. His voice is syrupy thick, washing over you as you take more of his cock, eager to please him.

You’ve almost forgotten about the man between your legs, until his tongue is pressing right against your entrance. It thrusts into you, feeling deeper than you’re sure is possible, and you moan around the other, letting your eyes fall shut. The need to cum is unbearable, like a pressure right in your gut, building higher as the tongue inside you squirms deeper. You try to focus on what you’re doing, inching to move your hand and touch him, but no matter how hard you think on it, you can’t. Your climax is terrifyingly close, more intense than you’ve ever felt and just as you feel like you’re going to pass out, the man between your legs stops and withdraws.

A hollow ache follows as the build up fades, and this time you moan out of frustration. Both of them laugh, and then fingers caress your throbbing cunt, cupping it and kneading teasingly. You whine, desperate to move, but you can only take what they give and beg for no more.

Two fingers sink into you. An obscene squelch accompanies the penetration, and you moan again. The cock in your mouth plows deeper, brushing the back of your throat; you realize with shame that you’re enjoying this degradation, enjoying the rush of being their fucktoy. You crave whatever they want to do to you.

A third finger sinks in, moving back and forth alongside the others, and you can feel the pressure building again. The man’s tongue slides against your clit, increasing the thrust of his hand, making stars explode behind your closed eyelids. You’re certain you’re vibrating, and the one fucking your mouth picks up speed, edging deeper until you feel like he’s bulging your throat. The lack of oxygen heightens everything, and when you finally cum, it’s hard and messy, a literal out of body experience. You feel the cock in your mouth throb, the next second your nose is brushing against hair, and he’s cumming thick down your throat, forcing you to swallow.

It’s the most erotic dream you’ve ever had.

When you wake, you’re a mess, and the wet spot is even bigger than the morning before. You’re going to need to do laundry at this rate. Sluggishly, you drag yourself out of bed, readying yourself for the day while clinging to the details of your dream, surprised that it’s still so clear even when you’ve had your first cup of coffee. It takes another two to get through the morning, and you’re relieved when it’s lunch time.

Lucy calls halfway through your sandwich. You answer with a pleasant tone, but you can tell she’s concerned by her first words.

“I thought something had happened to you,” she scolds. “You haven’t answered for two days.”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, one hand straying to the necklace at your throat, wondering how you’d forgotten it was there. “Did you enjoy your night out?”

“You missed some fun,” she sighs. “What are you doing tonight? I thought we could go see a movie or -”

“Oh, no, uh -” You panic, trying to think of an excuse. “It’s been a really heavy couple of days at work, I’m pretty beat.”

It’s obvious she’s disappointed. “You’re sure? You can pick the movie.”

“No, you go with Mark,” you urge. All you want to do is go home to bed. “I’ll only yawn all the way through.”

“Okay, well…” She trails off, and you wait, hoping she’s just going to end the call so you can finish your sandwich. “Just let me know when things calm down. I don’t see you much lately. I thought we had fun at the fair.”

“We did!” you lie, because you don’t really want her to feel bad. It’s not her fault you prefer staying indoors and away from people. “I promise, as soon as I’m feeling up to it, we’ll have a girls night or something.”

That seems to placate her. “Deal,” she laughs. “I’ll text you later.”

The call ends, and you eye the rest of your sandwich, wondering if you could leave work early if you cut your lunch short. After a few minutes of deliberation, you toss it, deciding to get something on the way home once you’ve gotten out of the office.

You don’t even try to convince yourself to stay up when you get home. The sun has only just set as you get into bed, daringly deciding to sleep naked for a change. Laying on your back, you feel the weight of the necklace against your chest, and you touch it, wondering if you should take it off just in case, but your eyelids are already heavy, and it means moving to the dresser…

You’re woken in pitch black by two fingers slowly sliding back and forth inside you, and you mewl needily, spreading your legs wide. The realization you can move is quickly shoved aside as a thumb begins to stroke your clit in small circles, and you know that they’ve been getting started for a while when you feel how wet you are.

One of them leans over you, hovering with his face centimeters from yours. You can see him clearly now; he’s blond, blue eyed, almost ethereally handsome, and he smiles before dipping his mouth to press it to your lips. The kiss surprises you for a second and then you react, kissing him back as he pushes his tongue against yours. He tastes sweet, addicting, pulling away after only a few seconds to leave you craving more.

“Bucky wants to have you first,” he murmurs, turning his gaze to the hungry eyes between your legs. He’s a little clearer now as your eyes adjust to the dark, and where the first man is light, Bucky is dark. The only similarities between them is their eerily blue eyes and their sheer size. You feel tiny underneath them, submissive to their whims, and your easy acceptance of that is a little shocking at first.

Bucky adds a third finger, keeping his thumb on your clit. You gasp and squirm, quickly finding yourself pinned by the blond. He uses one hand to hold you down and the other cups your breast, tweaking your nipple until it’s achingly hard. With the trio of sensations, you’re helpless to the ecstasy that overwhelms you, forced to ride it out until Bucky withdraws his hand.

“She’s as ready as she’s gonna get,” he murmurs, making a lewd display of licking his fingers clean. “You gotta taste her, Steve.”

Steve chuckles, gaze locked on you. “Later,” he promises, pinching your nipple and you whimper, unable to tear your eyes off of him.

The thick warm tip of a cock brushes your cunt. There’s a second of alarm when Bucky begins to thumb it in, and he’s big, maybe too big. You’re pinned by Steve’s weight, and Bucky’s hands press your thighs wide, feeding the first inch into your tight slick channel. “She’s fucking tight,” he hisses, moving his thumb to your clit.

You can’t form words, too lost in the pleasurable stretch as he enters you. He rocks back and forth, getting a little deeper every time, and then it’s like something pops and he slides balls deep, punching a cry out of your throat. Your whole body trembles at the sudden rush of sensation, and Bucky only waits a few seconds before he starts to move with shallow strokes. You feel like you’re thrown headfirst into bliss, barely registering Steve’s hands on your tits as Bucky fucks you.

If this is a dream, it’s the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. You can feel the heat coming off of them, every throb of the thick cock spearing you open, even their breath on your skin. Steve’s fingers are soft and calloused as they continue to toy with your breasts, and Bucky’s grip on your thighs is bruising. He gets faster and faster, grunting like an animal as you come undone around him, going limp and listless while he uses you.

Steve scoots down until he’s almost laying beside you, lips against the shell of your ear. “You’ve been such a good girl for us,” he purrs, trailing his fingertip around your nipple. “You want him to cum, honey?” You nod, feeling tears of desperation in the corners of your eyes. Steve smiles, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Mmm, you wanna feel it, huh? Tell me, sweetness, say the words.”

“Please,” you keen as Bucky growls and pumps his hips faster. “Please cum inside me.”

“Oh, good girl,” Steve groans, turning his head to look at his counterpart. “You hear that, Buck? She wants you to cum deep, see if you can’t make her overflow.”

You feel like your brain is melting, like there’s nothing in the world but the carnal need infusing your veins. Bucky’s hips stutter, and he finally hits his peak, slamming into you one last time, hard enough to make you scream as he spills inside you. Every pulse of his climax echoes in your gut, and you shake your head from side to side, dizzy from pleasure. He relaxes, releasing your legs, and they hit the bed either side of him, forcing him to withdraw.

Steve’s still laying beside you, continuing to touch you. You’re sensitive all over, shivering as the warmth abandons you, and when his fingers move south, you’re not certain you can take anymore. “I can’t,” you gasp.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t believe you,” he dismisses, and his fingertip slides down until it’s touching your clit. From across the room, Bucky laughs, watching as your thighs part again. Steve’s touch is already reigniting the craving, and when he pulls you into his lap, you gasp as your slit comes flush with his bare cock. He’s bigger than Bucky, seeding doubt as he pulls your hips to grind your cunt against his length.

“She’s nervous,” Bucky comments, kneeling on the bed behind you.

“She can take it,” Steve urges. His hand catches your chin, and Bucky presses against you from behind. “She just needs a little help.”

Strong arms hook underneath your armpits, and you’re hauled up. Steve reaches down, holding the base of his cock with one hand, using the other to spread your delicate petals, making you whine when he brushes the throbbing head against you. The men share a look, and then Bucky lowers you down.

Your head falls back as Steve splits you open. Even with your previous orgasms and Bucky’s preparation, it takes work for him to get in, and you’re quivering when gravity takes over. You slide down until your body is flush with his, gasping for breath when it feels like he’s so deep he’ll break you, and Bucky’s the only thing keeping you upright.

Steve groans with deep satisfaction. “Made for this,” he mutters with awe, running his hands over your thighs. “Look at this little cunt, taking me so well.”

The second he moves, you shatter. You have no control; Bucky holds you up as Steve ruts into you from below, forcing you to accept every inch over and over, and you know that no real life experience could ever compare with this dream. You’ll surrender everything to these men if they ask, exist as their perfect little fucktoy, beg for more when they’re done.

You see stars when Steve fucks you through one orgasm into another. Bucky shifts, holding you easily with one muscled arm as he presses his fingers between your asscheeks. He chuckles when you tense, and Steve groans when he feels it too. “Mmm, another time,” Bucky murmurs hungrily. “Bet you’d take both of us at the same time, wouldn’t you, doll?”

It hasn’t really occurred to you before that moment but now you can’t stop thinking about it. Bucky’s fingers keep teasing, steadily stoking a new craving that makes your whole face hot. You want it. You’re sure you’ll beg for it.

Steve’s fingers bruise your thighs as he cums, dragging you down so hard you think he might break you. You feel swollen when he’s done, and you resist them at last, crashing down into your sheets.

When you wake, it’s an hour after your alarm should have gone off. There are bruises on your thighs, and you’re beginning to think that they aren’t just dreams. As you stand in front of the mirror, inspecting the marks that were obviously made by fingers, your gaze drifts to the necklace, still secure around your throat. You touch it, leaning forward, making the connection that the dreams only started after it came into your possession.

“That’s stupid,” you grumble, dismissing yourself. You’re going to be late for work, and though you’re tempted to call in sick, you get into the office with thirty seconds to spare and earn yourself a dressing down for not being at your desk ready to work on time.

By lunch, it’s apparent you don’t want to be there. You feign a headache and sit through another grilling, then you escape, returning home to your bed. It’s not even three in the afternoon, and you lie there for an hour, slowly frowning more and more as you stare at the ceiling and will yourself to sleep. Nothing happens, so you get up again, deciding to eat before trying again when it’s dark. You’ve never been able to sleep very well in the light, so you put it down to that and enjoy a couple of hours of Brooklyn Nine Nine with a sandwich.

Night falls, and you feel the familiar pull to bed. You yawn your way through your apartment, undressing without thinking before you climb onto the mattress, landing face down. Your eyes flutter shut, and you drift, wondering if you’ll dream about them again. Halfway between awake and asleep, you register the bed dipping, but you’re out of it, and it takes soft fingers caressing your sex to make you realize they’re back. There’s an atmosphere of desperation about the way they’re touching you, and in seconds, the fingers are replaced, and Steve slides into you with one smooth stroke, moaning against the back of your neck.

You’re awake now, eyes open wide and fixed on Bucky’s smiling face as he takes up the space left on the bed. It’s not a dream; you’re beginning to understand that they’ve never been a figment of your imagination. Steve chuckles into your skin, wrapping his arm around your waist as he starts to thrust lazily, stirring every cell in your body. “That’s it,” he rumbles, “you’re getting it now.”

Bucky presses in close, sandwiching you between them. His fingers toy with your nipples, kissing away your sounds as Steve pounds into you from behind, pushing you towards the limit of what your cunt can endure. “You’re ours,” Bucky murmurs, as if you hadn’t understood the possessiveness in their touch, the hunger in the way they looked at you.

Still, your curiosity won’t be silenced. “W-what are you?” you gasp, struggling to form the words while Steve keeps up his punishing rhythm.

Fingertips brush over the necklace. It’s hot against your skin, and you keen quietly as Steve slows, grinding his cock deep until you’re sure you’re going to combust. “You chose this,” Bucky says softly. “You crave this.” He sighs, one hand cupping your breast. “You’re so good for us.”

There’s a deeper meaning behind his words, but you’re too far gone to think any further than the pleasure you crave. Bucky laughs under his breath and slides down the bed, lifting your thigh to expose you, humming at the sight of your pussy so stuffed full. His tongue darts out, brushing against your clit and you cry out, shuddering on the edge.

Steve withdraws abruptly, leaving behind a hollow ache that makes you reach for Bucky. He bats your hand away, and then you’re being manhandled onto your knees. Held upright with your back to Bucky’s chest, you gasp as his lips brush your ear and he grinds his cock between your ass cheeks.

“Tonight,” he breathes, voice full of desire, “you’re going to take us both.”

Your heart races, pounding so hard you can feel it in your bones. Steve smirks at you, resting against the headboard with one hand wrapped around his dick, and if you had a spare brain cell, you might have felt ashamed at the way you crawled to him, mouth open and ready to please him. He releases himself so you can take over, moaning as you wrap your lips around his cockhead, suckling needily.

You don’t really register what Bucky’s up to until his tongue traces your cunt. He grunts against you, opening you up slowly as you moan around Steve, getting more enthusiastic the more Bucky works his tongue into you. It still feels impossibly long, and when he suddenly abandons your slit and moves up, you freeze, realizing that he’s about to do something no one’s ever done.

He doesn’t rush. You move distractedly as the point tip of his tongue circles your tightest hole, gently testing as he applies pressure. It’s not unpleasant, odd, but enjoyable, and you slowly begin to relax into it. Steve slides his hand around the side of your head, thrusting his hips a little to encourage you, and splitting your attention between the two of them occupies every thought. Bucky’s tongue presses deeper, opening you up, and you break off from Steve to cry out in surprise. You find yourself quickly dragged back down by the blond, and he growls as he starts to fuck your mouth, leaving you dizzy and soaring as Bucky replaces his tongue with a thick wet digit, sliding it deep into your ass.

The penetration feels warm and unusual, and your pussy throbs with a need for attention. Your jaw is beginning to ache, and Steve somehow senses it, slowing as his attention moves to where Bucky has your ass filled with his finger. He smiles, nodding his head at the other male, and a second finger inches in, just as warm and slick as the first. You moan around the cock in your mouth, instinctively pushing back as Bucky fucks his fingers into you, abandoning slow in favor of taking you apart.

Steve doesn’t have to do much as you move with a little more vigor, taking him deep enough that your eyes roll back and it’s hard not to gag. “Oh fuck,” he drawls, tightening his hold on your hair. “Goddamn, you’re such a good girl…”

You’re not sure how you’re so close with just fingers. Where before there was apprehension, there’s now only the demand for more, and you push back onto Bucky again in a silence request. He nips at your asscheek, growling lightly. “You think you’re ready, doll?”

You nod, squeaking when you’re abruptly dragged off of Steve and hauled upright again. Bucky holds your arms behind your back, sinking his fingers into your ass easily this time. “P-please,” you beg, sobbing with the desire to feel more of what he’s offering.

He releases you, and you drop, ass in the air, cheek against the messed up sheets. Steve watches, amusement on his lips, eyes locked on your face to see your reaction when Bucky presses the tip of his cock against your clenching hole. The thought of lube races through your head when he starts to ease in; you don’t recall seeing any, but his cock is just as warm and wet as his fingers. The tip pops in and your eyes cross, a shuddering breath puffing out into cotton.

“I thought her pussy was tight,” Bucky groans, holding still. Your impatience gets the better of you, and you wriggle, trying to take more. You succeed, making him moan as more fills you. “Someone’s eager,” he comments, grabbing hold of your hips. “You want the whole thing, huh?”

You don’t get a chance to answer. He surges forward, sinking every inch into your forbidden depths and you scream, clenching tightly as the invasion makes your blood sing. It’s overwhelming, hot and thick, throbbing in your ass until you’re desperate for him to move. He doesn’t move, keeping you in place, and when you look at Steve, he’s watching you with a thoughtful expression.

“Pull her up,” he instructs. Bucky doesn’t think twice, and you’re suddenly upright again, forced to practically impale yourself on his thick length. Steve hums as he kneels in front of you, looking up at your twisted expression before he reaches for you. The first touch of his thumb against your clit makes you jerk in Bucky’s hold, and a shameful whimper escapes your lips. “Let’s see if you can cum with a fat cock in your ass,” Steve chuckles.

You know he’s going to get what he wants. Despite your achingly empty pussy, you’re hanging onto the edge, and it doesn’t take much to make you weep with ecstasy. Steve still doesn’t stop, working you harder and harder. “Please,” you sob, “I can’t -”

“You said that before,” he grunts, narrowing his eyes. “I can feel how close you are, honey.” His thumb presses harder, and your cries get louder. Bucky huffs against your shoulder, and then he begins to move too. The slow drag of his cock against your insides only adds to the pressure in your core, building to a terrifying crescendo. “Give it to her, Buck,” Steve growls. “She wants it.”

You’re drowning, gasping for breath, twitching, losing your fight. The battle is over when Steve sinks a finger into your dripping cunt, and seconds later, you’re drenching his wrist, cumming with such ferocity that you don’t make a sound. Bucky slows and stops, but he doesn’t withdraw, holding himself deep. “No more games,” he snaps at Steve, who rolls his eyes and pulls his hands away, walking closer on his knees until he can lift your legs.

Suddenly the solidity of the bed below you is gone. Something is holding you up, though you get only a few seconds to figure out what’s going on before Steve’s thumbing his cock into your sensitive and aching cunt. You gasp, eyes falling shut as he fills you, and finally, they’re both seated deep in your body - it feels more like becoming whole than it should.

They don’t wait long before they start to move. You don’t make a sound, quivering between them as they use you, so overly sensitive that one of them could brush your clit with a feather and you’d cum. Just the delicious slide of each cock inside you, in and out, in and out, grinding deep, is enough to keep the bliss ignited in your veins. It’s exquisite, like you were meant for this.

Bucky cums first, holding deep so you can feel every single burst of his seed inside you, and when he’s done, he starts thrusting again, still hard and throbbing despite his orgasm. Steve doesn’t even stop thrusting, making a mess of your already ruined cunt, chuckling when you look down at your bulging stomach. You’re not sure how many more loads you can take, but it seems they’re intent on finding out.

It feels like hours later when Steve cradles your face, wiping away the sweat that’s almost blinding you. “You wanted to know what we are,” he whispers, and it’s all you can do to nod. He sighs, brushing his fingers over the necklace at your throat, lips curling into a smile. “Incubi,” he says, so quietly you almost can’t hear it over the thump of your own heart. “You wear our stone. You called to us. So we are here.”

There are so many questions but your exhaustion silences them all. You drift off in their hold, still full of them, drunk on them.

You wake with a jump the next morning. Their touch - real, not imagined, you now understand - lingers on you, inside you, and you can’t stop thinking about it. Climbing into the shower, you wash away what they left behind, trying to make sense of it, to make sense of why you’re not freaking out. Two strange men have been in your apartment, in your room consistently every night, touching you, doing ungodly things to your body, and you aren’t the least bit frightened. They had told you what they were, why they were there, yet you aren’t scared of them, more of the deep rooted lust for them that’s burning through your mind.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you suddenly realize how wretched you look. Your gaze drops to the necklace, back to their words. It’s their talisman, their way of infecting you. Before you can second guess yourself, you tear it off, breaking the clasp, and it clatters when it hits the back of the sink and lands behind the faucet.

You don’t look at it again. After calling out from work, you spend the day alternating between fruitless searches online for anything like what you were experiencing, and pacing the floor outside the bathroom. The internet tells you these men are incubi, demons, and that their purpose is to feed from you during sex, among other things you hadn’t been able to stomach reading. You’re not sure how much stock to put in myths and legends on the internet.

The day crawls by. You order food, eat it in silence, flick through the various streaming services before turning the television off in frustration. No matter what you do, the thought of them is there, of the necklace sitting on the sink, of the pleasure they guaranteed you. You’ve never felt needed, felt wanted like they’ve made you feel in the last few days. You hunger for their touch like you’ll suffocate without it.

Day turns to night. You’re almost clawing at your skin. The craving for them is bone deep, the sort of desire that you should be terrified of, but mostly it’s driving you mad. You watch the clock, counting the seconds. The night gets older and you get weaker.

The bathroom door creaks when you open it. You tug on the light cord, and the fluorescent ceiling tube flickers to life. The necklace is right where you left it.

It’s not broken anymore.

You stare at it, fingers twitching when you finally reach to touch it. Their voices are in your head now, beckoning you, and you can’t block them out. The necklace is heavy in your hand, and the tiny warning you’d first felt at the fair is begging you to toss it out of the window. But the warning is not loud enough, not to override the desire drying out your mouth, and you sigh with relief as you fasten it back around your throat, closing your eyes at the familiar weight.

“We knew you’d make the right choice,” Steve murmurs.

You open your eyes. They’re both watching you from the doorway, reflecting in the mirror, and they look so, so hungry. The light flickers, and you smile your surrender as you turn to them, letting them pull you closer. Everything else falls away; it’s only you and them.

You’ll never take the necklace off again.

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING SO OTHERS CAN ENJOY IT 😁

[ivyembracertifiedbitch]

Embrafrost (BLeeM lied to you)

So! Brennan lied to all of us, so let me tell you what actually happened here.

Couple things to keep in mind, Ivy is curating her mean girl reputation 110% at all times, and because her and Oisín are executing a plot, they can't draw too much attention to themselves (and someone has to stay at the ping pong table). Also, Lucy's proclaimed dead right now, and they don't want to draw attention to her being revived (especially if she came back with a rage star).

Ivy notices "Lucy" (and Oisín doesn't). A 19's a pretty high roll, and with a 19, Oisín doesn't notice "Lucy", which means that on a lower roll, he would've noticed (and possibly caused some trouble). Ivy sees a hint of blue, and turns around to find "Lucy", and meets her gaze. (Used to looking for Lucy, perhaps?)

Ivy's microexpressions. Do not listen to Brennan. Do not listen to the IH. Hold my hand, come with me, let me show you the truth. Ivy's facial journey is eyebrows up, then a slow blink as her face relaxes into a slow smile. The nonplussedness that Emily read in her face would not show like that. It would be just as easy to be surprised and then drop her eyebrows and keep her face straight. That's not what's happening here. When her face relaxes, I know the camera turns away (trust me, I know, I'm pissed to all hell about it), but you can see the edges of her lips start to turn up, in what looks like the start of a smile!

Ivy's interaction with "Lucy." "Lucy" waves to Ivy and ducks away, so from Ivy's pov, "Lucy" has come back to life, and reached out to her, but wants to meet somewhere not around people. Ivy asks if it's cool that they meet up now, and Lucy agrees. Here's the important part, pay close attention! She doesn't tell Oisín. She doesn't tell her best friend, who we know she's close with! She doesn't tell him that Lucy's here, she doesn't tell him where she's going, she just says she's done and walks away. I rotate that in my mind a lot.

So basically, Brennan and the IH lied to you, and actually this is 90% of my propaganda for Lucy/Ivy, please see the truth. Like, I said in my tags on @ratgrinders post, to just see your not-dead friend and go 'oh! oh. :) I'll catch you up on what you missed' like. That's not Mean Girl! That's not Bitch! That's just Ivy! She is a hater and I love every moment where she hates someone, but that's not what this is. This is a moment of softness in the middle of Everything.

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART I) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: your uncle can’t pay for his weed, joel finds another form of payment.

a note from Lucy: SHEEE'S BAAACK! im sorry but someone had to do it. I took it into my own hands. Hate myself...but I love this. When fleabag said ‘I am a bad feminist’>>>.

playlist | alternate banner by THE cherub @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

wc: 3377 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! no outbreak (but Sarah still dies sorry), no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, porn with little plot, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Joel is in his late 50s), Smut, dubcon, P in V sex (unprotected), Creampie, Cumplay, dom!Joel sub!reader dynamic, sex as payment for drugs, allusions to oral - m receiving, Fingering, ever so slight assplay, Choking, gagging (not on his d tho *sigh*), panty sniffing and stealing, Light Spanking, mentions of using drugs such as weed, alcohol consumption, Smoking, use of pet names (baby, cherub, angel, good girl...etc), Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, spitting, spit play. Some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile porn I have written thus far...with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

It was no delicate whisper, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt. 

He had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper.

He did not belong there.

He would not belong there. You’d not give him closure to live and breathe in intimate parts of your anatomy. The only place he would be from now on was between your legs. And maybe in your bed until the wee hours of the dry morning. 

That is where you would let him sit.

That is where he would stay. 

You hate him. You hate his face. You hate his voice. Hate his fucking temper. But worst of all— the cataclysmic catalyst in your small world of four bedroom walls—you hate how you don’t hate him at all. Not really. Your heart wouldn’t let you. It would break your own ribs clean in two to lurch from your flayed chest and into his palms. If only he’d open them. 

Joel Miller gnashed you between his teeth to let you splatter past his lips on the sun cracked dirt. He circled you like a wild cat. His pretty gazelle. Graceful, light on her feet. You felt the splintering distraction of him in the base of your skull. Dull and aching. Still there to rot into earth.

You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. 

Distraught with him, you contemplated desertion. Something akin to treason for his tyranny. Cowardice churning at your gut. The pleasure you would draw from the curling scowl of his coarse brows. The thin line you’d make of his lips and dark mist of hickory that would cloud his eye and better judgement. 

But then what? You soon learned  that if it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. Joel Miller was harrowing. 

Broken. Broken, broken, broken — Maimed, shattered, blistered to burst like waterlogged paint. He made you all, and nothing. Made you shrivel into your own shell at the phantom of his thought. Baring your teeth at the need to divulge in feeling deeper than satiation. 

—

You’d cycled back home, hair damp and lank with rare Austin rain. Slow circles of the pedals around a pivot, swerving gently from one side of the empty road to the other. Eyes ahead of you. It was like you were floating in a daze under the yellow saturation of the streetlamps. Past shabby housing estates back to the trailer park you called home. Tips from tonight tucked into the pocket of your apron, ready to be stored under the mattress in the moth bitten pillowcase. Ready to find your flight out of this town. 

You skidded to a halt in the pebble speckled dirt outside your trailer, brakes squealing in protest. Standing to lock up your bike to the railing by your uncles beat up, busted down truck. A heavy thunder cracked above, a swollen storm cloud rolling in to send the summer out on its departure with a bang. September was here. And the air smelled acidic with the promise of downpour. 

Glancing at the trailer next door, you came to realise your neighbour was in. Lights on, music rattling aluminium walls of his shabby home. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him as he caught your eye in his window. Watching, thumb swiping over his lower lip as he eyed you in your uniform. A stupid yellow dress and pinafore, scuffed mary janes, frilly white socks. Ketchup stains. Doe eyes glued to him, you saw a swallow pass down the thick column of his throat. His deep hickory eyes were dark black in this light, pupils blown to devour the colour.  

Before the heat licking up your cheeks could pull to your centre, you moved one foot in front of the other, crashing through the door. The TV was on, a barbaric film of screams drowned out the thunder outside, rattling in your ears. Jarring? No. The regular. Your uncle, ever the washed up cop out he was, was on his fifth beer, no doubt would send a nightcap of whiskey down his throat before lugging himself off to bed. The bottle hung limp in his drunken hand, loosely dangled over the armrest of the leather couch.

He did not spare you a glance. 

“I’m home.” You called out to him, waving out a hand in his direction. His sunken stoner eyes didn't drift from the box television in front of him. Merely garbled grunt, followed by a beer burp passed his lips. You sighed through your nose, teeth set on edge. “You had dinner?” 

Another grunt. One you took as ‘the fuck do you think?’

You sighed, “Okay, i’ll throw somethin’ in the oven, yeah?” This time he did not spare an answer. 

You took it as a blessing. Could have been worse. He could have struck you for being late, taking on overtime for Dee, the young mother who worked alongside you on friday evenings. You needed the money. Uncle Luke got laid off last month, turning up to the impound lot drunk, reeking of hard liquor and staggering around machinery. 

So you left it at that, disappeared to hide your money, counting out the bills into piles of ten. Just shy of ninety six dollars. All gathered and stuffed under your mattress. Next was dinner. Nothing much in the fridge, a box of frostbitten waffle fries, out of date in the back of the freezer. Or leftover pizza from the night before. Why not both. ‘Have a feast!’ you humoured yourself dryly. 

It was an hour or so later into the evening when your uncle finally spoke up, empty plate resting on his beer belly, another belch to punctuate the first words he said to you all evening.

“Do me a favour and drop by Joel's will ya, doll?” You sat up, looking at him from the lazyboy seat you perched in, feet kicking down from the coffee table. 

“Joel’s? Why?” He looked over to see your brow furrowed in question. 

“Usual dealer is outta town. Joel’s hookin’ me up with some in the meantime.” 

“Come on,” You sighed, tilting your head at him the way a parent would do with a child in pity, “I thought you were clean.”

“It’s just weed.” He snapped, voice gruff in his thick drawl, slurred. “Aint gonna fuckin’ kill me. But you might. Expensive brat.” 

The thought flickered across your mind to argue. Fight back. Tell him you were fighting tooth and nail for the rent due next month. But the bruise of his handprint and the simmering burn of his slap to your face the night before stopped your words dry in your throat. 

“Fine.” You sighed. 

And so, with heavy feet and a grudge in your tight chest, you ambled on over to the next door, knuckles rapping on his door three times quickly. 

Joel Miller opened the door with a puff of air out his nose, cigarette hanging loose from his lips. A barrel chested man in a tight wife beater and low slung dirty jeans, brow set in stone. The corner of his lip curled into a sneer of a smirk, taking no shame in the fact he was eyeing you head to toe. The devil down smirk. It made something disgusting tug at your insides, pool deeper in the thick of tension. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked in a drawl, crossing great oaks of arms over his chest. The neck of his tank let tease a smattering of salt and pepper hair over the top of his chest. Bristly, wiry. You ignored the urge to feel it catch in your nails. Do the same with the scruff, scant over his jaw. The same gradient. Just as coarse. 

“Um,” You eyes dropped from their ogling to the step your feet were planted on, head hung with them, “Uncle Luke said you had somethin’ for ‘im.” You mumbled after clearing your throat. 

“I do.” He nodded, pinching his cig between his thick thumb and forefinger, taking a drag and parting it with his lips. He squinted as he exhaled, the stench of the cigarette catching bitter in your nose. “He sent you over here to get it? A sweet lil’ thing like you.” 

You nodded hesitantly, still not daring to look at the man in front of you. Above you. He chuckled inwardly at your display of subservience, cock twitching behind the zipper and denim of his jeans. “Look’t ya.” He mused, tossing his dying cigarette onto the gravel, hooking his tobacco stained fingers under your chin to lift it. While your head tilted up at his touch, your eyes strained to stay on the floor. He watched as the stretch of your neck struggled to accommodate a nervous swallow, skin rippling deliciously under his hold. “Lil’ angel aint ya?” He thumbed your head to the side, eyes relishing in the sight of more skin, the wash of yellow light over your profile. “A Cherub.”  Cherub. That’s what he named you. His little Cherub who was defiled and taken in a heated, frantic assembly of limbs. Pulled to fire at hell's mouth. Joel Miller's mouth.

Still you looked down. “Look at me, Cherub.” And with a heavy sigh you did. That was what was so easy about Joel. It took nothing to obey. Nothing to give in and keel over at his side. “That's better.” He mumbled under his breath, watching the rise of your chest. You could feel the pert tips of your breasts pebble at the meeting of his eyes, mixed with his touch. How delicate it was now. How deranged it would be later. “Come on in…Cherub.” He practically crooned the pet name, stepping aside. 

You passed the threshold, a mistake for the best and words parts of you. Because stepping across that line was the damning event in your experience of Joel Miller. Pandora’s box had been opened, left to decay in the woods somewhere as evil poured guilt free from it.

He rummaged around for a second, pulling a clear plastic ziplock bag from a duffel in the corner, dangling it in front of your face. A dirt green, clustered in form. You reached to take it, but he snatched it back with a cruel smile, making the walls of your stomach curl in dread, jaw clamp shut. 

“Luke’s gotta pay up, first. He give you money for me?” You shook your head. His eyes clouded darker.  “No?” He raised an amused brow, “How you gonna pay for it, Cherub?” 

You're stumped. “I– I…” Your voice died in your throat. But Joel can seemingly peer inside you to your own mind, part it like a page of a book or your own legs. 

“I don’t want your money, baby.” 

“Woulda been mine, anyway.” You sigh. And he narrows his eyes at you, tutting in disappointment. 

“I can think ’f one thing that’ll make it up to me.”

And that's how you ended up here. His thick, intruding fingers hooking into your mouth, unhinging your jaw as he speared you on his cock. Everything about him was larger than life. Even the way he breathed was domineering. Fucking you with flared nostrils that gave way to a billowing a breath. The other hand at your neck, revelling at the feeling of your pulse hammering under his splayed palm. Worming your way though cracks in his thick ribs while took you.

He had folded you in half, pressed the knobbles of your knees up to the sides of your head as tears ran thick, hot and slow down your temples. He made it hurt. But you loved it. Needed him to evaporate into air so you inhale him. Devour him. 

He grunted, watching in furrowed brow amusement while his thumb pressed into the soft flesh under your jaw, middle and forefinger coated in your slick form earlier and now your own saliva. 

It was a primal image. One some may find disgusting. To see him bent over you and ravaging your cunt raw. Bleeding you dry of a semblance of sanity. It was so easy when the tip of his hot, angry cock nipped at the mouth of your cervix with vigour like that. His hand is at your throat, pressing a purple bruise into your flesh over the old one made by another man. For you to marvel at later when he once again staggers from bed to refresh himself with a cool beer, clutching the ache that curled at the base of his spine. 

In his eyes, you needed a big god. A man to keep you to yourself. Never have you stray. Ground you with the slamming of his pelvis into your hips. Legs parted for him to eye the very core of you. The seam he would part with two fingers, hot, needly, wet for him. Aching and pinching and shuddering around his digits, tongue, dick. Letting him invade you like the good girl he told you you were, crooning into your ear with hot damp breaths. 

Joel dredged up an ache of humanity in you that felt numb so long before. Lay dormant in the chasm of your stomach. Swallowed like a peach pit to choke on later. After the sin had dried like the sweat on your skin.

“Fucking easy, ain’t ya, Cherub.” He would say as he penetrated your walls, invaded your mouth with his fingers. His lips draw open mouthed, wet kisses to the delicate column of your throat, down the bone between your breasts. Then he leans back, watching intently as his hips slow to grind, dragging the slick of your walls to drench the base of his cock. Ready for you to take down your throat later if he wished to meld you into that position. A hand let free the grip on your throat, instead watched with fascination as he slapped your tit, took the swell of it in his palm, cupping it, tugging at your pearled nipple. “Gonna take all of it for me, Cherub.” 

You garbled out a yes, a cry of submission to him. Before, Joel never felt the acidic aftertaste of guilt for being selfish. Since he lost Sarah, he took it upon himself to have what he wanted and when he wanted it, without a damn for the rest of humanity.

The only time he felt a shred of remorse was when he stole you; Hid you away from the warm, nurturing touch of others' more loving, less brutal hands. But you were his Cherub. All that was pretty a beautiful and to be desired in the world.

With his lip between his teeth, his thumb swiped tight circles over your swollen clit, slick aiding him in the fluidity of his strokes, heavy balls drizzled in your arousal as they slap wetly against your ass. A nod and his fingers slip further into your mouth, opening your jaw wider to peer inside. A glob of his spit drooled past his lips, splattering thick and warm upon your clit. It slid down to your entrance, where he punctures moans out of you, shaft stretching you, fucking you out, and thrusting with the intent to break you. You can feel the curve of it, the vein that runs steady on the underside of it. Heavy, full. You remember the slap it sounded out when you reached to pull it free. Before he parted your legs wide and sheathed himself in your pussy with one swift wane of his hips.

Joel smiles when you sob and break down for him, pull back a layer for him to slip into you. The walls of you drag him down into a grounding. A centre of a universe. Gravity strong enough to implode, create dark matter, compress tightly into a black hole. The centre of his universe. 

“Does my baby want it?” He crooned, and you yelped a yes, strangled by his being. The scent of him clinging to you, your sex. It gnarled at your skin. Scratched marks into flesh. “Does she want to come for me?” 

You didn't have to nod, he made you with his grip on your jaw. It was going to be your answer anyway. “Want you to say it for me too, Cherub.” 

“Yea, Joel!” You yelp, voice shrill, and cracked like the callus on the heel of his hand. “Yes!” 

He grins, wicked and wrapped with the inter to tear you apart from the inside with the jackhammering of his cock inside you, The delicious, toe curling numbness of it inside you. 

“Come on, Cherub, sing f’me.” 

“Yes-” It's a shriek, a quick, frenzied shriek. One that filled the hollow of your chest and then deflated it. “Yes! Please, please, please- Please!” 

Your begging melts in his ears, the sight of eyes rolled back, mouth open for him. And he needs to feel, reaching between where the two of you join with your own hand. The base of his cock now between your middle and ring fingers, his length swiping your fingers in combined precum and slick as he bucks his hips violently. The headboard shakes and trembles beneath his frantic movement. And he presses the heel of your hand into your clit, having you seeing stars. Crying to the heavens you fell from. 

His little Cherub. Plush skin and plump curves for his teeth to sink into and mark his territory. Whenever he may please now. 

“Come.” 

And you do, screaming his name to him as a numb weight fills the pit of your core, has your pussy pulsing in waves, ebbs and flows. It sucks him deeper, a lew squelch gaining his attention when his lower abdomen and balls tighten. He lets out a strangled groan, filling you with one final push upon your cervix. 

It has you gasping for air, chest heaving when he looks down between you, the white sticky ooze of his come seeping from your walls, softening cock still sheathed inside of you. Not ready to pull from the warmth your cunt hugs him with. 

“That’s it, angel, down you come.” He coos, before sifting his hips, leaving you to whine as your gaping hole fluttered furiously around nothing.  

He stands, pulls his jeans on, fly still undone, belt buckle loose and clinking at his sides. He swipes your underwear from the scattering of your clothes over the musty carpet, bringing it to his nose to inhale. “Part of the payment.” He mumbles, not that you’re listening, mind still swimming in its pool of oxytocin. And he slips the lace into his jean pocket, baby pink peeking out from denim. 

“Better get back, Cherub.” Joel said plainly, fingers dancing over your used hole, as cum dribbles gluttonously from it, down your crack to your puckered asshole. He thumbs it gently and you squeal, squirming away. His hand clamps down upon your thigh, dragging you back down the mattress to his unyielding touch. 

“Don’t be ungrateful now.” He growls, collecting the creamy spend with two fingers, scooping it back inside you. Your body jolts from the intrusion, but gathers itself again and desire swims low in the swell of your belly. “Want it all in ya’. Fillin’ you nice and good for me, Cherub. There we are, that’s it.” He smiles, eyes unmoving from your cunt as his fingers disappear inside and stretch it out, scissoring you to overstimulation. “Maybe one day i’ll get to use this one too…” And you feel his thumb once more at your butt, adding the smallest tease of pressure.

Joel pulled back, clapping a hand down on the plush, malleable skin of your thigh. 

“Up ‘n out, Cherub, ‘fore your uncle gets suspicious.” 

You know Uncle Luke won’t know any different. He’s passed out on the sofa when you get in, legs trembling with an ache weighing the marrow of your bones. You shut the door with your back and a shaking huff, tossing the weed onto the coffee table, retiring to your room, sobbing to nothing and no one but your grimy pillow, licking your wounds like the wounded bitch you had now become.

[masha-nikita]

The Archetypes of Red Rose, White Rose

I need to balance my brain out due to sudden onset of depression. It is the result. Rommel is probably the only general who, even if you draw him from the back, he's still recognizable- flowers, a camera, and love for beauty. Rommel has a Venus-Mercury conjunct with a direct Neptune influence; he is going to appreciate artistic expressions.

In fact, this colored-doodle with an unintentional Mucha vibe has the energy of his wife Lucy in mind. According to some sources, Rommel wrote home to Lucy daily, as it was reported to be his mental crutch- I imagine it to be transcendental emotional support, not unlike my own experience, my own relationship with our Tumblr community here. Whether you guys interact with me directly or not, you keep me alive. My sincere thanks to you.

Lucy was a formal dancer in Danzig with a decent middle-class background, her father seemed to be a land owner- Lucy being able to do art, probably added to his admiration for her- fellow artists, angelic companionship.

I suppose he did need emotional supports, and a lot of it-- Rommel is the only high commander with whom Kessering "the smiling Albert" did not get along-- which is a feat. After all, Kessering was very renowned for his exceedingly cordial and diplomatic temperament. The same could be said of von Rundstedt, the calm, gentlemanly, old Prussian field marshal. These two could put up with some bad BS from any one else, except Rommel. He was too intense, too mentally off-balance, too difficult to deal with for his colleagues.

There are a few things I noticed from Rommel's biography (including the Trail of the Fox, 2005), that allow me to make some observations. His love for Lucy appears to be non-sexual. They had their only son 12 years after marriage. That is a pretty long time, not customary with a Scorpio man who has a 8th house Mars (who is supposed to have at least above average sex drive).

As a matter of fact, Rommel had a daughter with Walburga Stemmer before his marriage with Lucy was finalized. At that point Rommel’s family felt the need to step in and strong-armed him back with his fiancée-- one reason being to prevent the young lieutenant from the pitfalls of sex and alcohol. In my humble opinion, the subtext here might be Lucy would not lead him astray in that regard, therefore his conservative family would rather have him marrying Lucy.

A side note, Stemmer family still holds a collection of hopelessly romantic letters from Rommel. Did Rommel write comparable letters to Lucy at that point in time? A bit hard to tell.

I could not recall which article comments that Rommel was "hen-pecked' in the household, but Lucy was dominant at home, that part had been very true.

Ouch, I don't know, some aspects of this living environment must've been toxic to Rommel no matter how much some folks wants to romanticize it. It is horrible to be in a friend group where there's a mean girl boss who takes pride in ruling over her husband and turning any girl who crosses her into a persona-non-grata. But I digress. Back to my title.

Nevertheless, for me, Lucy being archetypal White Rose still holds water as a concept.

The Red Rose- White Rose archetypes originated from the same-titled short novel by Zhang Ailing, one of the 20th century's greatest female writers. She depicts love's tragedies as Chin dynasty fell apart and China marched into an era of post-colonialism, world war II, civil wars and partisan conflicts-- and eventually, modernity.

White rose is your ideal wife, the guardian of your family's social standing. She is angelic, she seems docile, she reminds you that you are from a place of honor and integrity, not of seedy backgrounds and carnal desires. White rose kills love by loving you, by being stable, by calming you down whenever you freak out. Very slowly, she castrates you, she brings you home to domesticate you.

The Red Rose symbolizes those dark desires, a black hole that sucks you in to have sex with you, a fragrant bed, a sex dungeon you do not have the will power to claw yourself out of. Red rose loves you by conquering you, destroying you and everything you represent and cherish with triumphant strides. Very quickly Red rose tears you down, burns all your bridges, until you are beyond recognition, until you are flesh, blood, fire and desire, a literal mess.

It is implied in Ailing's novel that men invariably choose the White Rose, because they are human, all too human. Marrying her, he regrets it; not marrying her, he regrets it even more. Such is love's tragedy in the face of humanity, and tragedy is the only inevitability in Ailing's universe. That's why I pull Lucy in as a faint through-line in my Montgomery x Rommel fanfics... not that I am going to write any more, I don't think so.

And yes, Red Rose is synonymous with Bernard Montgomery, in my fandom brain's humble opinion.

I know I am weird.

[avionvadion]

I may have went a little too hard with the effects but darn it they were pretty. God's design is by @folieradis. I've been seeing it EVERYWHERE and it's utterly delightful so I wanted to draw him, too, lol.

Anyways! Major fic spoilers for Dancing With The Devil, but it's been in my brain for a while and I really wanted to draw it out. I thought it'd be a fun little visual. It's basically Iliana's "punishment" from God, where her soul was left shattered in what is essentially purgatory/limbo until ten thousand years pass and her soul has pieced itself back together as the human Eleanora.

...Okay, listen, I really just liked the morbid imagery of God holding a dead Iliana and the strands of her golden blood turning into the red strings of fate that would tie Eleanora and Lucifer together. T_T

Edit: I fixed Luci's left arm. Man, this art style messes with my sense of anatomy, alskjflkjdlfdj. It's cute, though.

[hbprophetie]

I'm selling little Snape goods with my art to support my daily life!✨

My fellow Snape fans! Long time no see, I hope you've been doing alright. I'm back once more, after what might be my longer absence on here so far.

I owe you an apologize, and even if I won't develop very deep on my personal situation, I wanted to give you some kind of explanations. I've been leaving far from home in Japan for more than 2 years now; last year, I started to work as a 2D animator for the anime industry in Tokyo, and got through a very difficult experience. Working culture in Japan is far from the one why might have in Europe or in the rest of the world, and the anime industry makes no exception; insane working schedules, very bad working conditions, no consideration of personal life and low salary are basically considered as the norm here. Sometimes I was shamed for only working +50 weekly hours and not commiting to work for free on weekends.

As I couldn't stand the toxic environement anymore, I finally moved to the Japanese countryside where I managed to find a little animation studio that works on my favorite series of all times: Pokémon. My collegues now are all very nice peoples, I feel accepted and respected despite the very rought working conditions; But above alI can now realise my dream and work and be implied on my childhood favorite anime.

However, I get close to no money from my long 6 working days week. I hardly pay the rent, and I rely on my savings for paying bills and food. I'm happy and I'm not in immediate danger: I have been saving money in preparation for this kind of cases for years before moving to Japan; However, I want to continue to pursue my dream and know that in the long run, I cannot afford to leave a life that doesn't allow me to move more freely and meet my family even if it's only one time in two years.

That's why I'm now trying and hope to develop a little side hustle to help cover the daily life expenses while developing my skills for creation and illustration. I have little to no visibility on social medias and it's difficult, but I want to trust time and would be extremely grateful in even a few of you could consider checking my work if interested. Of course I don't exclusively draw Snape, but I'm putting all of my heart in my recent illustrations including Pokémon fanart, food illustrations and sketches on the daily life in Japan. My main tumblr is https://lucie-foselle.tumblr.com/ , I also have a IG page called "tenma_draws_pokemon".

However, I have a little treat for you Snape fans: I recently come up with the idea of making postcard and stickers with some of my Snape fanarts. I'm pretty happy with the result and would like to propose you to get them if you want to either get a little Snapey decoration, want to share your love to another Snape fan, or support me and my work!

Everything is printed, signed and stamped on demand! Note that the colors and result might therefore look slightly different than the pictures. My stamp will also appear in the 2 darker background cards, as featured in the visuals bellow.

Everything is made by me, I print in a small local shop and look for the best quality as possible for the illustrations! I can ship worldwide from Japan, and it would be made with love, care and an immense gratitude.

✨ Poscards (4 patterns available now, can be seen on this Tumblr) ✨

Price: 3$/3€/3£ /pc, worldwide shipping included! ✨ I can make little discount if several items are bought.

Size: 10x14.7 (~3.9x5.7 inches)

The little pumpkin is part of a collection I have on my main illustration Tumblr, you can check at https://lucie-foselle.tumblr.com/)

✨ Stickers (Snape crest pattern) ✨

Price: 3$/3€/3£ /pc, worlwide shipping included! ✨

Size: ~5x6cm (~2.5 inches), might add holographic effect. ✨

You can contact me via DM here or on my IG, and payement is made via Paypal. I plan to launch my kofi page soon and might consider selling other goods and take commisions in the future if I feel like it could interest some of you! 💚 I can either draw and animate, still have to sort it all for 2025! 🤗

Note that I would do my best but I'm just starting to print and ship my art, there might be a little delay in the shipment and the goods might take up to 3 weaks to reach you. Plenty of non Snape pattern are also available so if you are interested do not hesitate to check or ask, my DM are open! 🤗

Even a little like, comment or share gives a lot of support. 💚 A huge thank you to all of you who would have read until now, and would show a little bit of support! ✨ Have a good rest of your week-end, fellow Snapers. 🐍