Tumgik
#tumblr request
Note
Possessed realm is different from the previous time_ If it's okay would like to know why
I'm happy to answer this question ☺️
Tumblr media
In the first part, Link still has his conscience, but he's very aggressive, impulsive, etc.
This is a "partial possession", meaning Link has fears removed and the fighting skills and character are amplified and modified to make him lethal
Tumblr media
In the latest update, however, Link's mind is completely eclipsed, this is defined as "complete possession"
In this case Link is not aware of what is happening, we can say that he is asleep, and it is the medallion that has total control
I hope I have explained the issue of possession well
Thanks for your ask! 💖
41 notes · View notes
9ffairs · 3 months
Note
hello. can you please draw soldier eating a burger thank you.
Tumblr media
wahhhh 🤤🤤🤤🤤
1K notes · View notes
cricket-mantis · 2 months
Note
i need to see optiratch hold hands or something iduno tehyre awesome old men
Tumblr media
I love them so much they get my silly
533 notes · View notes
Note
bing bong what's up you're doing a bad job
SnapCube's Real-Time Fandub | "Shadow the Hedgehog" (2022)
428 notes · View notes
teaandransacking · 1 year
Note
In response to the Lockwood x reader smut I think that the “we might die tonight” concept is good thank youuuu
Hi! I hope you like this.
fever dream high in the quiet of the night
Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x female reader ~ Words: 1600 ~ content: heavy petting, swearing, sexual tension
a/n: let's agree that Lockwood is 18 or over for the purposes of this fic, ok? ok thanks.
Tumblr media
The room is very still around you.
You wish Lucy and George were here, but they’re back at Portland Row, recovering from rapier wounds. Barely a scratch, Lucy insisted, but Lockwood won’t have anyone working unless they’re at full health.
That should count you out, really. You’re never at full health around him. He’s as distracting and frustrating as he is magnetic. You could just as likely kiss him as punch his stupidly handsome face. Most of the time you think you’d choose to do both simultaneously.
Lockwood eventually shrugs off his coat. You’re in the third (?) sitting room of this manor house in Surrey, waiting for the clock to strike seven. That, according to your clients, is when the Visitors arrive. It’s quarter past six - you’re always early, and for once, Lockwood is, too.
“Getting comfy, are we?” you snark.
He folds his long body into the armchair, and you have to resist looking at his lap. You could easily curl yourself up on it.
He lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. “We should rest while we have the chance. We’ll need our strength later, especially with our reduced numbers.”
You swallow. “Yeah. We’ve got this, though.”
He meets your gaze and nods one, decisively. “We’ll do admirably.” He stretches, and you almost miss it - the tiny wince that passes over his face.
He’s still in pain from the gunshot wound.
It was months ago, but-
Your throat goes tight to think of it. How you and Lucy and George closed ranks around him. How his eyes seemed so dim when he finally opened them. How limp he was.
You must make some sound of disquiet, because his eyes narrow and as always, he sees too much. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.”
He smiles, a little. “I’ll allow that I don’t know a huge amount about girls, but I do know when when they say fine like that, they’re far from it.”
You fold your arms over your chest. “You’re a massive hypocrite, you know that? You force Lucy and George to stay at home and rest, and meanwhile, your shoulder isn’t even fully healed.”
Something flashes across his face - vulnerability or pain, you can’t tell. “It’s fine.”
“Oh, and now who’s insisting they’re fine when they’re not?” You hiss, stalking over to him.
He stands from the chair, his face murderous. “You do not get to be in charge here. It’s my name on the door. I am responsible for all of you.”
“Yes! A job that, might I remind you, you cannot complete if you are dead!”
The word comes out in a sob and, startling yourself, you crumple against him.
His arms come around you instantly, and he gently tugs you down into the chair, urging your legs up so you are curled in his lap. You panic for a second but manage to arrange your rapier so it doesn’t stab either of you.
“You have a fucking death wish, don’t you, you prick,” you try to snap, but the seeing as you’re half-crying, the words don’t have the desired effect.
“Believe it or not, I fear death much more these days, now I have the three of you,” Lockwood says softly, pressing a kiss to your hair.
You freeze, and something in the air crackles.
You’ve never been alone together like this before. There’s always someone else in the house, or you’re walking somewhere - Tesco, Arif’s shop - and suddenly the yawning pit of need that constantly lives inside you around Lockwood opens its maw and begs.
“Can’t you just stay home just once?” you murmur into the soft, clean cotton of his dress shirt. “Just stay safe, for fucking once.”
“I’d be a pretty poor agency head if I did, darling.”
It’s the first time he’s used the endearment and it turns everything inside you to liquid. 
You lift your face and see that he’s gazing down at you, his dark eyes lust-blown, and he’s so tempting and so close. You slide your hand up his chest, cup his cheek. “Every time we do this, we court death. And I don’t want to die before we’ve had the chance to live.”
He inhales sharply at your words, and then his hands - warm and rapier-callused - cup your face and he captures your mouth a kiss.
It’s soft and sweet at first, then hungrier, deeper. Your tongues tangle. He tastes of bergamot and marmalade and it’s both exotic and comforting, and his mouth is pliable and delicious. You have limited time, so despite the fact you could kiss him for hours, days, you want more.
He makes a sad little sound when you break the kiss, and that alone makes you want to dive back in. 
Instead, you shift upwards, move to straddle his lap. When you next look down at him, his gaze is fixed on you, his eyes as black as night. He looks at you as if you personally hung the moon and every single star, and it’s heady, these feelings he always stirs inside you.
His hands slide down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his, and oh. He is definitely as into this as you are. 
His throat bobs as he swallows, and then he says, thickly, “Dreamed about this. Being near you. Like this.”
Your heart clenches. “Me, too,” you admit. You glance at the door. You’ll have to go out there soon. Endanger your life. Lockwood will protect you with his. You know it without a doubt.
“Hey,” he begins, and then he whispers your name in that low, buttery smooth voice. “Just be here with me. Don’t think about anything else.”
You almost snark back that he finally has a good idea, but this moment is perfect. You don’t want to ruin it, so you dip your head and kiss him, let your hands start to work on the knot of his tie. It slides through your hands, silky smooth, and then you’re deepening the kiss, plundering his mouth while your slip one, two, three of his shirt buttons through the tiny eyelets, then spread your greedy palms over the smooth, warm skin of his chest.
He groans into your mouth, and it’s a powerful thing, to rob Anthony bloody Lockwood of words, but then you find that any possible clever quip is stolen at your own mouth as his hands burrow under your jumper and cup your breasts through the bra. You arch into his touch, and he mutters something like “perfection” against your lips as he caresses you.
You grind into each other on the wide, soft armchair. He’s hard where you’re soft, and the pressure is exquisite. Impatient, you reach behind yourself, under your sweater, to unclip your bra, and when Lockwood feels the cups release and your bare skin against his, he swears, low and guttural, and making him come this undone makes you feral for him.
He pushes the hem of your sweater up, breaks the kiss, and then sets a hand under your bottom, urging you up so he can put his mouth on your breasts. His face is just a little rough from half a day’s stubble, and the tiny hurt grounds you as he lavishes attention on one breast and then the next, while the push and pull of pleasure makes you dizzy. You fist your hands in his hair, and it’s warm and silky.
You arch your back, pressing into his mouth, and all you can think is yes and don’t stop, and he doesn’t. He is nothing if not thorough, but then it’s not enough, and you’re impatient, every iota of you on fire. You unsnap your jeans and almost rip open the buttons, taking one of his hands from your chest and shoving it right where you want it.
To his credit, Lockwood is a fast learner - he can’t have become the UK’s youngest agency head for nothing, you suppose - and he finds your clit after a only few fumbles, quickly learning which movements make you cry out and press into his hands. 
You’ve wanted this for so long that you’re soaked, and it doesn’t take long before that tell-tale sensation begins to coil in your belly.
“Say my name,” he murmurs against the curve of your breast. “Please.”
And he circles his finger over you twice more and you come like that, squirming against him, breathing his name -  his first name - and he sighs as he works you through the orgasm, until you’re shuddering from it.
You drop a kiss on his forehead, and you’re about to ask if you can return the favour, find out what he likes, how he tastes, Christ that’d be hot - and the clock strikes seven.
Lockwood withdraws his hand, pulls your jumper down.
“This is not over,” you whisper.
He flashes that megawatt grin. “Not by a long shot.”
And reluctantly, you break apart and get ready to face whatever is behind the door in this old house. 
But you’ll do it together.
660 notes · View notes
kryzinz · 8 months
Note
Hi can draw subsmoke :)))
I love the gays 🙏💕 I hope you like it!
Tumblr media
226 notes · View notes
pumpkinpowder · 1 year
Note
May I request Ghostface and Michael being besties 🥺
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ghostie went Weeee
813 notes · View notes
moqi2004 · 2 months
Note
uhmmM UHMMM CORN YAOI MARRIAGE BANTER MAYBE? FIC WHERE THEY ARE HAPPY AND MARRIED AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER..........
Anon to let you know I saw you ask this literally like four minutes after the post went up, I was beyond amazed. Ask speedrun award goes to this person.
Also sorry I made your happy happy fic hurt/comfort I couldn't help myself...
Marriage Banter
Words: 913
cross-posted on Ao3
tags: hurt/comfort, wedding anniversary, lazy mornings, breakfast in bed, self-doubt, fluff, Dalv being kinda traumatised but he's doing his best, hugs and kisses, no beta.
Summary: Dalv overthinks about his past. His husband unknowingly cheers him up with a little surprise on a special day.
Fic under the cut :) enjoy
Dalv never expected this would be him. That life could be kind to him. He had spent an entire year hiding… Not of the unknown, mind you - the unknown was his only friend back then. No, it was the known that was truly scary. What he’d seen with his own eyes, felt within his own chest, tasted within his fearful breaths. The sound of her cries… He couldn’t deal with that life, where he could be hurt all over again. No, hiding was safer. His cornfield was there, his projects. Pops and Broom were his only friends… Sure, Penilla and Decibat were kind to him, but that was it. 
Then Clover showed up. Clover, who reached out their hand even when Dalv attacked them. Clover, who showed them he couldn’t predict the world by hiding. Clover, who made time to visit him in Snowdin. Clover, who he never got a chance to say goodbye to… 
No. Dalv’s eyelids fluttered open. Now was not the time for that. Not today.
He rolled over to his side, only to find the bed empty. Where… Where was his husband? This wasn’t the first time Dalv had woken up alone, but usually he knew about it beforehand. He knew that they would be spending the day together, and yet his absence only made him paranoid… Dalv shook his head. Not. Today. No getting in his own head! Everything would be okay. Everything is-
Dalv snapped to attention. The door creaked open, just a notch. For a few seconds, there was nothing… From the gap in the door, Dalv could see something. He squinted, focusing as hard as he could, and yet he couldn’t make it out. It was then that, higher up from the object, something yellow moved to peek through the crevice. An eye was staring at him, the white shining from the glasses protecting them. He noticed it widen, which made Dalv lift a hand up to suppress his laughter.
“Dal, yer not supposed to be awake! Goshdarn it…”
Dalv couldn’t hold it in, his face scrunching as he giggled. The door fully opened itself to reveal his husband, dressed in casual teal sweatpants and a black shirt with a sleeping horse on it reading “ride off into dreamland”. Dalv recalled that Starlo’s posse got that shirt for him. Dalv then realised what the object he couldn’t describe was: the corner of a tray. It was now fully in view, holding two steaming breakfast plates. On it was some sausages, hash browns, and-
“Corn?” Dalv tilted his head slightly, a fond smile forming on his face.
“‘Course!” Starlo smirked proudly, “straight from my parent’s farm! Only the best fer you.”
Starlo walked next to Dalv and carefully placed the tray in his lap, the fresh corn smell causing Dalv’s mouth to water. Starlo leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Dalv’s cheek before moving to his side of the bed, sliding in next to his husband and reaching over for his own plate of food.
“Mmmm, this is so good,” Dalv munched contently, “your cooking is getting better and better by the day.”
“I hope so,” Starlo sighed, “can’t have Martlet fixin’ the stove again…”
“Or Ceroba scolding you,” Dalv smiled.
“Angel above, especially not that…”
“Oh, uh, and about that entrance?”
“It was suppos’ta be a surprise!” Starlo moved his hand to rest between the points on his head, “nothin’ much, mind you, but just a lil’ somethin fer-”
Dalv watched, amused, as Starlo’s face flushed a deep red. Starlo collected himself with a deep breath, a tell Dalv had learnt over the last year of their marriage and their time dating before that. Starlo quickly flipped to his North Star persona, leaning towards Dalv with a wink.
“A lil’ somethin for the most charmin vampire in the Wild East.”
Dalv felt his own cheeks warm at the corny attempt at flirting. Even after Starlo grew more confident to be himself around Dalv, he still couldn’t deny being charmed by both sides of his husband - the confident sheriff and the dorky farmboy. Starlo then leaned forwards to press a light peck to Dalv’s lips. The contact was fleeting and brief, yet it hit Dalv square in his soul. He turned away, beet red, noticing Starlo do the same out of the corner of his eye. Dalv melted completely at the sight.
The two of them soon recovered from their lovestruck thoughts and enjoyed their lazy morning breakfast, Starlo chatting constantly between mouthfulls.
“So, I’ve got tha whole day planned out,” he gave Dalv finger guns, “first, this. Then imma give you my gift; thought I’d tell ya instead of makin’ it a surprise. Then we’ll head on down to Snowdin for a lunch break, cause I know ya love the food they’ve got over at the Honeydew Resort. After that, we come back here and celebrate a lil bit with Ceroba, Martlet, and my posse. And finally, there’s nothin planned for the evenin’! Just, uh, potentially cowboy movies and cuddlin..? I didn’t wanna do anything too crazy since I know yer prefer time to recharge and-”
“It sounds perfect, Star,” Dalv leant against Starlo’s shoulder, content.
Dalv mentally thanked Clover for allowing him this chance. For the opportunity to make friends, to take steps he never thought possible. Without meeting Clover, Dalv would have never met Starlo.
“Happy Anniversary, Dal,” Starlo wrapped his arms around Dalv’s smaller frame, “love ya’.”
“Love you too.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's note:
ANON I HOPE THIS IS GOOD HONESTLY I MIGHT HAVE GONE TOO FAR FROM WHAT YOU WERE ASKING FOR BUT ONCE THE IDEAD WAS IN MY HEAD I COULDN'T STOP ;w;
As of making this post (the 16th of January 2024) asks are still open! You can find more info by going to my pinned blog post :)
REBLOGS > LIKES
31 notes · View notes
wowbright · 27 days
Text
Sometimes I wish I had the option to remove the original post from a reblog chain, because the original post isn't that great but the reblog is amazing and stands on its own.
But in those instances I often end up not reblogging at all, because I just assume most people have "shorten posts" turned on and won't find the content of the original post interesting enough to click through to the entire thread. Which is a bummer, because there are some really good reblogs out there.
12 notes · View notes
drrealityslenderverse · 8 months
Note
For the one shot request, can I request tim/brian(pre-mh) fluff if u don't mind:)
Date Night
Back to main Contents || Back to One-shot Contents
Brian leaned back in the booth, arms crossed behind his head as he eyed the shorter man sliding into the seat across from him. His stare didn’t go unnoticed and the corners of his mouth twitched upward as Tim caught his gaze and stared right back.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The brunette rolled his eyes, shrugging off his coat. 
“Maybe I will. I think you look good on camera.” “Not as good as you.” 
A short laugh escaped. “Well duh, I am the star after all. I have to look good.”
A faint pink tinted Tim’s ears and his dark eyes flickered to the menu lying on the table between them. Brian sighed and leaned forward, opening his own menu with little interest in actually looking through it; he knew what he’d order. 
After another few seconds of silence he spoke up again. “I meant it, Tim.” 
As much as he joked around about being the all important star of Alex’s student film, Brian wasn’t sure he fit in front of the camera. It made him feel awkward at times, unsure what exactly to do at times—of course part of that was the lack of instruction in the script. The fact most of his scenes lately just had him standing and reflecting or doing shorter scenes than his co-stars definitely had him questioning his acting abilities. 
Tim on the other hand, well… Brian had occasionally hung around to watch Alex film his scenes and his boyfriend almost looked like he belonged behind the camera. Maybe it was Tim’s usually stoic demeanor but it was as if he didn’t notice the camera recording him. He was certainly perfect for his character’s role. The only issue was how often Alex and Tim seemed to butt heads—Brian felt like it was getting worse as the student director grew more and more stressed about the production. 
“Guy needs to take a break.” Brian glanced out the window, watching as the daylight faded. 
“I guess.” Tim finally responded. 
Their waiter appeared before Brian could reply. After the pair gave their order and handed over the menus, they were once more left to talk in peace. 
Once more however, he wasn’t allowed to speak as Tim changed the topic. “So how was that party you went to?” 
Brian grinned and arched an eyebrow. “Maybe you shoulda come.” 
Tim gave him a look and made him chuckle; Tim was never much for parties, especially not the ones he liked—loud and full of people. It’d gone until early in the morning too, which had of course been used as a further excuse since Tim had to go to Alex’s shoot. 
“A blast. Nothing too extreme. Cops weren’t called this time.” The smile widened at the memory of a different party. “Just a typical college frat party. Bunch of people getting drunk and shouting along to loud music. They had a bonfire that surprisingly didn’t burn the house down.” 
Considering he’d planned this date, he hadn’t drank as much as some parties. It wouldn’t be fun for him or Tim if he’d been hungover today. It was one of the few times he’d been the designated driver for some of his other buddies instead of one of their girlfriends. 
His smile faltered slightly. Had Tim shuddered when he’d mentioned the house burning down or had he imagined it? Brian leaned over the table a little, reaching out to take his hand. “Something wrong?” 
“It’s nothing.” 
So he hadn’t imagined it. He wouldn’t pry. Tim always told him things when he was ready and if something truly bothered him, he’d let Brian know. “Alright then, keep your secrets.” 
He earned another eye roll for the quote.
“Hey, after this you wanna go back to my place?” He shifted back against the booth again. “I just got some new movies we could watch. Promise you’ll like them.”
“And they aren’t super long this time? ‘Cause I might fall asleep again if they are.” 
“Promise.” 
Brian wouldn’t mind if Tim fell asleep on him again though. He was a cuddler and Brian honestly found it cute. Sometimes his boyfriend would mumble under his breath, though he could never understand the words.
Their food came a while later and they continued their light banter. Most of the topics were small talk, though parts of it had circled back to Alex’s film—most complaints or worries. For a short time Brian went on about his job—he totally needed a raise considering all the people he had to deal with. Tim seemed to find his complaints entertaining. 
As they wrapped up, Brian handed off his card to pay, much to Tim’s apparent dismay. “I could’ve gotten half.” 
“I got it.” Brian shook his head. “I asked you out, I’m paying this time.” 
He gave the shorter man a reassuring nudge as he pocketed his card and took Tim’s hand to walk out. The night air was warm as they walked to their cars. Despite knowing they’d see each other in a few minutes, Brian was reluctant to let go. 
Leaning against the side of his car, Brian looked down as he pulled Tim closer. They shared a kiss before Brian pulled away and took out his keys. “I’ll meet you at my house, ‘kay?” 
“That’s the plan.” Tim lingered for a second longer before walking the short distance to his own car and following him out of the lot.
31 notes · View notes
samara-asaika · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Taking Requests! Comiss closed for a not known time ^¥^
9 notes · View notes
Note
If you’re still taking requests, can I get LinkedUniverse Time meeting your Time?
It's a really cute idea! I thought Grumpy man would tell Lu Time about Link, and how much he hates him 😂
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lu Time obviously understood that Link is a kid who just messed up
I hope you like it!
Thanks for your ask! 💖
409 notes · View notes
9ffairs · 2 months
Note
HEAVY TF2 TUMMY !! !! !!
Tumblr media
128 notes · View notes
cricket-mantis · 1 month
Note
Not sure if your doing oc requests but if you are
Tumblr media
If not then may you draw blades from rescuebots? Please and thank you! Have a good day
Tumblr media
EEE hope you like them 🐱
I have a ship request I am responding to next so if anyone has other requests they'll be open for the rest of the week :3
14 notes · View notes
Note
“you’re mad because people sin? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” it makes me cackle everytime plz :3
SnapCube's Real-Time Fandub | "Shadow the Hedgehog" (2022)
160 notes · View notes
teaandransacking · 1 year
Note
I'm a fan of yours on ao3 and I binged your The Devil All the Time series this week - so good OMFG - and your soft smut is immaculate.
Would you bless us with some Lucy/Lockwood first time smut including the Lockwood Pajamas (tm)?
First of all YOU HAVE READ THAT FIC? I feel like only about 10 people in the world read that, and I loved writing it. Thankyou.
Just for you, please enjoy some 5-ply soft, non explicit smut.
Let's pretend these characters are 18 or older, OK? OK.
except when we went from friends to this
Words: 2500 ~ Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x Lucy Carlyle ~ Content: super soft non explicit, dreamy first-time sex.
Tumblr media
It all begins with a present from Flo.
Lockwood is confused at first. A hotel? He hasn’t been inside a hotel - the ones that are unhaunted, anyway - since he was a small boy in a boy size suit, eating afternoon tea with his parents on his birthday. The memory makes him feel funny, and he rubs his hand over his chest as he looks down at the shiny voucher, out of place against the cheap formica of the cafe tabletop.
Flo frowns. “I hope I didn’t overstep, Locky. It’s your birthday, after all, and I thought - well, you could take Lucy with you-”
He looks up at that, and a different sort of emotion makes his chest tight. Fantasy snapshots flit through his mind. Lucy, walking down the grand staircase of a fancy hotel, a cocktail dress flaring out from her hips. Lucy, covered up to her neck in bubbles in a fancy hotel bathtub.
He could give her that.
He traces his finger along the edge of the card. “How did you get this?”
“Bartered for it, didn’t I. Amazing what you can get when you’ve got an… eclectic skill set like mine.”
Lockwood thinks it’s best he doesn’t ask any more questions about that.
“What about George?” he blurts out, wondering if the other young man will feel left out.
Flo smiles slowly. “You know I’ve never been entirely altruistic, Locky. If you and Lucy are out, well, I’ll have George and his ghormeh sabzi all to myself, won’t I?”
Oh. Lockwood looks down into his cup of tea, feeling a flush creep up his neck. “Right. And he’s…. Okay with it?”
“Would I have asked if he wasn’t?” She grins. 
Thinking about the implications of her smile and her words too long makes Lockwood think of the time with the yoga, so he blinks the image away, sipping tea. “Thankyou,” he says eventually. “This is really kind. I appreciate it.”
Flo grins that cheshire cat grin again. “No, you don’t. But you will.”
He doesn’t rise to the bait, but tucks the gold-edged voucher away safely inside his coat.
He knows what Flo thinks is going to happen if he takes Lucy to the hotel. Maybe it will, and maybe it won’t, but what Lockwood wants most is just to be with her, uninterrupted time, where they can talk and cuddle and laugh and relax, without the threat of Visitors - or any other kind of unwanted guests.
Perhaps he’ll get the Do Not Disturb sign and hang it on the door as soon as they arrive.
If Lucy agrees to go, that is.
#### 
“The Connaught?” Lucy exclaims, almost knocking over her mug of tea. She grabs it just in time, so that only a few drops spill over the edge. Her eyes are wide with excitement, and Lockwood could just drown in them, wade into those clear depths and never look back, not for anything. “That’s the poshest hotel in England!”
“So you want to go, then?” He asks, nerves cramping his stomach. “With me, I mean.”
She gives him a funny look. “Who else would I want to go with?”
He reaches across the table, from his position opposite her, runs his index finger over the back of her hand. “I wanted to be sure.”
Lucy turns her hand over, palm upwards, and tangles their fingers together. “You are a bit of an idiot sometimes, you know that?”
Relief makes his shoulders slump, and he feels the grin spread across his face. “I am well aware.”
#### 
Dinner’s at eight, the desk clerk informs them, but it’s not included in their room rate.
“Not to worry,” Lucy murmurs as they head off towards the stairs with their room key, “I packed a picnic we can eat on the carpet.”
He loves her. If he wasn’t entirely sure of it before, he is now.
The room somehow manages to be cavernous but cosy. How that’s achieved, he has no idea, and right now, he can’t bring himself to care as he watches Lucy run for the huge bed and launch herself on to it. She bounces, laughing, and it’s been so long since he’s heard her laugh like that, carefree, and when she lands, her gaze finds him.
“Come on, then! You can’t come all the way here and not bounce on this bed.”
“It’s only Mayfair,” he points out, but the smile on his face is completely irrepressible. He feels like he has to add, “at least take off your shoes.”
Lucy laughs, but wiggles to the end of the bed and shucks off her boots. “Come on, Lockwood. Remove the stick from up your arse for once.”
She says it so fondly that he can’t be annoyed, even a little bit. Truth be told, he was a bit of a stick in the mud before her, before George.
He toes off his trainers and shoves them aside before walking to the bed. For a second he falters, wondering what to do. He would have known, once, before his entire family was taken from him, before-
Lucy grabs his hand and tugs him, and he falls on top of her, their bodies flush, and she looks up at him in surprise, her lips parted slightly, and it’s an invitation he simply can’t refuse. He settles his forearms either side of her head and then he touches his mouth to hers.
It starts off soft and sweet, like many of their kisses, mostly chaste, and then she slides a hand up into his hair and sighs into his mouth, and suddenly everything inside him is on fire.
“Lucy,” he groans, drawing back to look at her. Her lips are kiss-swollen and her titian hair is spread out over the crisp, snow-white bedsheets. He’s seen some of the finest art in the known world, and none of it, not a single painting, compares to having Lucy Carlyle warm and willing under him, her gaze lust-soft and her cheeks flushed.
She smooths his hair back from where it falls over his forehead. “I did really want to see you jump on the bed, but I think this is better.”
It’s very difficult to think when their bodies are so perfectly lined up, especially since he’s never been this close to her without interruption, but he concentrates and makes himself form a reply. “I’ll do a cartwheel over the bed later if it’ll make you laugh, but for now - wild horses couldn’t pull me away from this moment.”
“You can do a cartwheel?” she asks, her brows arching up, but his expression must be a reply all in itself, because she presses her lips closed and then frames his face between her hands. “I love it here, too. I’ve, er, been thinking for a while that it’d be nice to have some time together. Hard to relax when anyone might overhear.”
“Yeah. That’s not really my thing,” Lockwood agrees.
Mischief flits across Lucy’s beautiful face. “I’d like to find out what is your thing.” And she lets her body go soft under his, spreading her legs so he’s cradled right there and his brain completely short circuits at the sensation, even through their layers of clothes.
“Have mercy,” he manages to whisper.
“On the great Anthony bloody Lockwood? Never,” she whispers, but there’s gentleness in her voice. “How about a bath, first?”
That makes him immediately imagine her naked, and for another second he can’t form a single coherent thought.
Lucy shakes her head, laughs softly, but it’s a sweet laugh, a kind, warm one. He doesn’t protest when she rolls their bodies and then hops off him, standing and holding out her hand. “Come on. A proper bath, in a proper big bath tub, with fancy bubbles! I have never had fancy bubbles!”
Lockwood has to blink again to get the cogs in his brain to turn, and then he lets himself be led into what turns out to be a palatial bathroom. It’s all sleek marble floor tiles and travertine walls, and the claw foot tub rises from the floor, a porcelain leviathan, waiting to be filled, and all he can do is stand there and imagine Lucy in it, the water fanning out her hair, and her eyes closed, long lashes resting on her cheeks.
She turns on the taps, fits the plug in the circular hole, and then eyes him. “Clothes.”
He blinks at her. “Yes. I packed them.”
Lucy rolls her eyes. “We can’t get in the bath with clothes on, Lockwood.” She grins at him, and there she is, sarcastic as ever, and suddenly he feels at home again. “I’ll turn around if you like.”
Heat floods his face, and he starts to acquiesce, and then he realises, he doesn’t want her to turn around. He wants to feel her gaze on him as he undresses, and then he wants to see her peel her own layers away, and he wants to sink into the hot water with her, feel the silk of her skin and slide soapy hands over her-
And then he’s obviously dawdled too long, because Lucy crosses the space between them and starts unwinding his tie. He gazes down at her, at the overhead lights glinting off her gorgeous, silky red hair, and he drops a kiss on her forehead.
She looks up, a small smile on her lips, and continues with her ministrations until his tie lies limp around his neck, either side of the collar of his white shirt.
“I can do the rest,” he says softly.
She steps back, grinning, her eyes eating him up, and in that moment, he feels like he could take on the world, if only he could carry the light in her gaze with him always.
He discards the tie, unbuttons the shirt. He’s been shirtless in front of her before, for short periods - one memorable time when she couldn’t sleep and came to talk to him at midnight when he was already undressed - but never like this, with this superheated air between their bodies.
Lockwood shrugs the shirt off and it falls to the floor in a whisper of cotton. He doesn’t look at what he’s doing, only at her, and the naked want in her eyes could sustain him for days.
The metal buckle of his belt clinks loudly as he unbuckles it, stepping out of his trousers and pulling off his socks, and then he’s barefoot in the fancy, high-ceiling bathroom, wearing only black boxers, and for a moment, nerves shred his stomach, but then Lucy hooks a finger in the waistband of his underwear and pulls him close to kiss him, and his fears unravel into warm yearning. His arms go around her and he holds her as their mouths whisper over each other. 
Then she draws back, smiling a little, and moves to turn off the taps. “Nice and full. Water’s going to get cold. Can’t waste it.”
He glances over at the veritable lake. No bubbles, but they’ve got all night. They can always have another bath later. He opens his mouth to tell her that it’s her turn to take off her clothes, but instead hears himself say, “Might I - can I - undress you?”
Her eyes spark. “Since you ask so nicely. Come here, then.”
Lockwood joins her by the rolltop side of the bath, his hands going to the hem of her jumper, fingers curling in the softness of it, and then she lifts her arms obligingly, and he gently tugs it off. It goes the way of his clothes, unmissed, and her tank top and jeans and socks follow, and then she stands, pale and perfect in her underwear, and the shape of her blows every one of his fantasies out of the water.
Lucy whispers, “I think we’re still wearing too many clothes for a bath,” and he grins at her, and they help each other with the last of their garments, and then climb into the tub, gazing at each other.
The bottle of body wash is glass, and scented with citrus and bergamot, and it’s silky-smooth when they wash each other with it, learning the angles and curves and lines and soft spaces of each other’s bodies. There’s no words, but there’s no need for any, not when they’re cocooned here together, warm and wet and safe and together.
The water is tepid, almost cold, when they leave the bath, and Lockwood wraps Lucy in a huge, soft bath towel, and then himself, and she laughs when they run to the bed together, snuggling under the covers until they’re warm again.
Lockwood isn’t sure who makes the first move - he’s pretty sure it’s Lucy, of course it is - but one moment they’re cuddling, talking softly, and then next moment, she’s straddling his hips, looking down at him with large, soft eyes, and being under her is bliss unlike any he’s ever experienced.
“I haven’t ever - that is…” he begins, settling his hands on her hips, wanting something, wanting everything, except to disappoint her. He couldn’t bear it.
She drops a kiss on his mouth. “I haven’t either, but I’m almost certain we’ll figure it out together.”
And they do, for the first time, and the pleasure is intense and overwhelming and so much more than he could ever have expected.
He learns what to do to make Lucy sigh his name, how to make her hands fist in the bedsheets, and he does it several more times, before they eventually remember that picnic, and they eat it wearing their pajamas, sat on the carpet, looking through the big picture window up at the stars.
“I wanted to give you something special,” Lockwood begins as they lie together, after midnight, curled up sleepily in the enormous bed. “I thought about you in a pretty dress, on the big grand staircase… having a fancy dinner…”
Lucy chuckles. “Is that what you think I want? Fancy dinners? Do I need to remind you about my feelings on horseradish?”
He grins into the dark room. “No, you don’t.” He sighs, kissing her hair. “I wanted it to be perfect.”
“Anthony Lockwood, you never know when to bloody shut up, do you? It is perfect.” She snuggles into it, slides a leg over his. “And if you really want to make up for the lack of fancy dinner, you can order breakfast in bed tomorrow.”
94 notes · View notes