#reader x love potion

[undercoveravenger]

Intoxication

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “love potion mix-up with Billy Hargrove??”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month everyone! Here's the first post for the 2023 Spooky Month event - the next post will be dropping on Tuesday, October 10th. Hope you enjoy!

-----

Things had been strange ever since the arrival of Billy Hargrove and his little sister, Max.

Well, things in Hawkins had been weird for a lot longer than that, especially since you and your best friend Steve had befriended the group of misfit kids that called themselves “the Party”. They’d introduced the two of you to a secret side of Hawkins, where magic and curses and strange creatures ran amok. One of the kids, a girl named Eleven, was able to control objects with her mind and see beyond what was there. Another, Will, was psychic and could connect to other planes of existence. Dustin had a way of knowing how things fit together before anyone else could even guess. Steve’s coworker from Scoops Ahoy, Robin, was a witch. And now, Max and her brother. Werewolves, if what Lucas had told you was to be believed.

But you really couldn’t bring yourself to care much about Billy Hargrove. Not when so much of his life seemed to be spent antagonizing your best friend and trying to disrupt your comfortable station within the school’s hierarchy, seemingly dead set on turning your life upside down. Even at stupid parties like this one, you could hear people chanting Billy’s name while he faced off against Steve in a match of beer pong somewhere deeper in the house while you try to coax the sticker-covered flask away from Robin in the kitchen.

“Robs, babe,” you murmur, sidling up beside her and leaning back against the kitchen island, “I think Vickie likes you already. I know it’s scary to risk rejection, but a love potion isn’t the solution here.”

Robin nods slowly to herself, but her fingers don’t loosen around the metal. “But what if I can’t do it?”

You cock your head, smiling as she meets your eyes. “But isn’t asking her and knowing better than using that and not knowing how she really feels?”

It takes a moment of consideration, but your friend nods, setting the flask on the chipped marble countertop. 

“It’s more of an enhancer than-” Robin starts and it’s clear that you’re about to get one of Robin’s infamous lectures on the science of magic when she is cut off by someone snatching the flask from its place in front of the two of you.

“Aww, so sweet of you to have my next drink ready for me,” Billy Hargrove leers at you, unscrewing the cap of the flask even as his usual infuriating smirk slips over his lips, pretty blue eyes fixed on yours in with that intense, holier-than-thou look he always had. Just because he was tall and handsome and had pretty eyes and hair that you kind of want to curl your fingers into and use to pull him closer to shut him up with a kiss, doesn’t mean he could do anything but irritate you by looking at you like he knew something he wasn’t willing to share.

Your heart lurches in your chest as he raises the flask, you know you have to at least try to stop him, especially since Robin seems so stunned you’re not entirely sure she could say anything at all.

“Probably don’t wanna drink that, Hargrove,” you say, reaching out just in time to catch his wrist. “Might end up with something worse than a hangover.”

Billy leans forward against the counter, using his other forearm to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks at your hand, holding tight around his wrist, before his eyes shift up to meet yours. “You threatenin’ me?”

A derisive snort escapes you, and you gesture subtly for Robin to make her escape. The last thing you’d want is for Billy to figure out she had anything to do with whatever happens if he’s stubborn enough to drink the potion and start targeting her once it wears off. She catches your hint and mumbles an excuse about finding Steve, disappearing quickly into the crowd. 

“Of course not,” you say, releasing him and holding your hands up placatingly. Sure, you didn’t really want to spend longer than necessary around Billy Hargrove, but you wanted to spend time with a pissed off Billy Hargrove even less. “Just think it probably wouldn’t be something you would like, so I was just hoping to get it back,” you reached for it as you spoke, leaning across the island yourself to try to make a grab for the flask. 

Billy snatches it away, taking a long gulp from the mouth of the flask, grinning at you all the while. He pulls a face, but doesn’t wince the way one might at the burn of alcohol, but you can see the moment the look in his eyes starts to shift and the realization hits you with all the weight of a semi-truck.

Billy Hargrove had just taken a love potion while looking right at you. Billy Hargrove was about to be convinced that you were the love of his life.

“Well,” you say, eyes flickering around to look anywhere but at Billy, “I should really be going.” You push back upright, swiftly turning to make your way out the back door of the house and starting off down the sidewalk in the direction of your own home before Billy could speak. You don’t make it far before you realize you’re being followed, the scuff of Billy’s worn leather boots giving him away as he trails behind you.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” you call back over your shoulder, pace remaining steady even as Billy speeds up to walk beside you.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to be,” he drawls, lips quirking up into something softer than his usual sneer. “Just walkin’.” 

You study him for a long moment. “Didn’t you drive to the party? Surprised you’d leave your precious Camaro behind.”

“I’ve been drinking,” he shrugs, clearly trying to appear nonchalant. “Drunk driving’s dangerous, y’know.” He’s quiet for a minute and you find yourself almost wondering what he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to walk me home if that’s what this is,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets and focusing your eyes on the way the lights on the stoplight a few blocks down flicker. “Steve already made me promise to call him when I get home.”

Billy huffs and he almost seems to be pouting when you glance over at him. “Don’t see why you’re with that loser in the first place. ‘s not good enough for you anyway.”

His words shock you enough that your steps falter and you have to turn to face him to see if he’s joking or not. Billy looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, steely blue eyes fixed firmly on you. 

You have to fumble for words for a minute, the first thing you’re able to force out being a weak protest. “Steve’s not a loser!” Then the rest of his words catch up to you, “And he’s just my best friend, anyways.”

Billy seems to brighten at that, a more genuine smile crossing his lips than you’d ever seen before. “So,” he says, moving toward you slowly. The dull orange glow of the streetlights makes his hair shine almost copper and his eyes flash that distinct werewolf silver as he stalks toward you, gently herding you backward until your back is pressed to the brick wall of some long-closed business and Billy’s in front of you, arms caging you in on either side. On any other day, you might’ve felt claustrophobic- trapped and threatened by someone determined to fuck up your life. But today- with that love drunk look in Billy's eyes and that fond grin on his face, you were hesitantly pleased with your position. "If you're not with Harrington," Billy starts, leaning just a bit closer, until you can almost feel the breath of his words against your lips, "Does that mean you're available to go out with me on Friday?"

Part of you is tempted to say yes- to give in to this sweet, intoxicating side of Billy and let this go as far as he wants to take it- but the rest of you knows that what's happening is wrong.

You press a hand to Billy’s chest, pushing him back enough to give yourself some breathing room. 

"I would, but this isn't real, Billy." You force yourself to say, "You drank a love potion tonight- this- you don't mean any of this."

Billy laughs then, full and unrestrained and the most genuine you've ever heard him be. "That shit doesn't work on werewolves. Metabolism’s too fast for it to really do much of anything," he says, grin unable to be helped even as his laughter subsides. "And even if it did, the stuff that your buddy whipped up just makes feelings that's already there easier to act on."

You blink, the pressure you'd been using to keep Billy at bay slacking as you think through what he'd said. If he hadn't been affected by Robin’s potion then- 

Billy nudges closer, slipping his arms around your middle and tucking his face against the side of your neck. "The reason I was always so shitty to Harrington is that I was jealous," he murmurs softly, and you can feel the way he grins just a little wider as you start to relax against him, "I wanted to have people look at me like they look at him. I wanted to have you look at me like I was him." 

You can’t help the way your hands come up to curl around him too, the way your fingers curl into his shirt, or the way you press just a bit closer to him. You can’t help the answering grin from carving its way across your cheeks at the thought of how pleased Billy seems to be at being the center of your attention, but you also can’t stop those few little questions from itching away inside your mind. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” The thought escapes you almost unbidden, before you can second-guess yourself, and you can’t help but keep talking. “Why didn’t you ask me out? Or- or just say hi? Something other than-” you gesture vaguely back in the direction of the party.

The tired sigh that escapes him makes it clear he knows you’re talking about his grudge against Steve and all the drama he’s stirred up for the two of you.

“It’s-” he has to pause and think over his words for a moment before he can continue. “My experience with love is… complicated. My mom died when I was little and my dad- he changed after that. Got mean. Angry.” He swallows hard, pulling away far enough to look at you, to really look at you. “He made it clear that he expected pretty specific behavior from me and anything that didn’t meet that wasn’t… good for me. Liking a guy- well, that was pretty far from what he’d expect.” His hands drop from your sides and he steps back a bit, arms crossing over his chest like he’s trying to distance himself from his thoughts. “So I was rude and sarcastic and I was mean to Harrington because at least that kept me in your peripheral.” He meets your eyes again, bright and open and honest in the orange glow of the streetlights, “But I don’t want to just be in your peripheral anymore.” 

With all of what he'd said playing through your mind, finding the right words is proving difficult. "If we’re gonna try this, you've gotta leave Steve alone," you start finally, heart squeezing with more fondness than you're ready to admit as you watch the realization of what you mean starts to sink in and a million-watt smile pulls at Billy’s lips. "And Robin and the kids, too.”

A giddy laugh escapes Billy and he takes your hand in his, tugging you back down the street in the direction the two of you had been walking. “That’s a deal I’d make a thousand times over,” he says, grinning brightly as he walked with you, fingers intertwined with yours, hands swinging easily between the two of you.

Conversation flows easily as the two of you walk and you’re more at peace with Billy now than you could ever remember being with any of your exes, he insists on walking you home no matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t need to. 

“Go out with me on Friday?” He says as the two of you stop at the foot of your driveway. “We could go for a picnic or to the drive-in if you want?”

When he’s looking at you like that, you can’t help but agree, quickly finding yourself more and more excited about your pending date. 

Billy kisses your hand before he lets go, stepping back as you turn away from him and head for your house. 

Billy smiles to himself as he watches you make your way up the driveway, keeping watch until you're safely inside, before turning and heading off in the direction of his own home. No, he knew he'd never have needed that love potion- not when it came to you. Billy Hargrove had been intoxicated by you since the first time he met you and he knows that isn't going to change any time soon.

[ceruleancattail]

Yandere Octavinelle being fascinated with the red of your blood.

TW: yandere, gore, slightly suggestive

In the depths of the sea, the colour red doesn’t exist. Scarlet, ruby, crimson…. These mean nothing to the creatures born of the ocean.

Blood to them is just a dark liquid, with a strong, heavy metallic smell that weighs on all the senses. Something primal, yet alluring at the same time. Perhaps it’s the hunter genes in them, the need to sink their teeth into a squirming, bloody mess. To clutch and hold someoneuntil it breaks under their grip, to devour them whole.

The stench of blood drives all three of the Octavinelle boys slightly off the rails.

Azul nips your shoulders when he’s holding you. Dark red marks dip down the curve of the base of your neck, blood gleaming scarlet in the faint light. It almost looks like a string of pearls, draped across your skin.

Azul does it as gently as he can. The plush of his lips pressing softly against your bare skin, the chill sinking deep into your flesh. Before he takes a bite. Nibbling at your skin until his teeth breaks through and draws blood.

Sometimes, he sits back and watches his handiwork with a perverse pride. Watching your neck beaded with your very own blood, a grin spreading across his cheeks. Of course, you’ll never be far from him while he’s admiring you.

Azul’s legs tangled with your own, arms tight around your torso. Holding you down, your back pressed flush against his chest. Azul craves your touch, like a creature craves air. It hurts, whenever you’re not around. Like a dagger stabbing through his heart, again and again and again. A frenzied attack on his very being.

Look at the effect you have on him, darling. You won’t be as cruel as to leave him without a reprieve, would you?

Floyd doesn’t even give you a chance. Without so much as a warning, his fangs are already plunging themselves into whatever part of your body you deemed fit to expose that day. Floyd isn’t picky.

You’re unceremoniously shoved under him, Floyd’s fingers wrapped tight around your wrists. They dig in your flesh, leaving bright red welts against your skin. He throws you on whatever flat surface he can, before clambering over you. Pinning you down with the sheer bulk of his body alone. Habits from the hunt, trained into the memory of his very muscles.

Floyd quite literally knocks all the fight out of you, wrapping himself around you as tightly as he can.

Every part of your body is lined with violent, bleeding bite marks, scarlet gushing from them. There’s nothing but that metallic stench in your nostrils, stinging every crevice of your nose like a thousand wasps. Floyd isn’t gentle, not by a long shot. You’re just so warm and soft, Shrimpy….

You can’t really blame him for taking a bite or two, right?

Jade enjoys watching you squirm. There’s just that shiver of glee that runs down his spine whenever you twist and turn. Struggling in his arms, trembling away all the while. Watching your futile efforts is entertaining in itself. Separating yourself from him is something you’ll unfortunately never achieve in this lifetime.

Not when your blood is this sweet.

Jade’s fingers wrap around your limbs tight, the blade of his nails digging into your flesh. Lining your arms with crimson crescents, the ruby-red flaring to life on your skin.

He varies the pressure he uses to press down into your skin. Sometimes quick and firm, sometimes slow and gruelling. Leaving you on your toes, eyes watching his hands glide through your limbs with quivering fear.

Yet once you’re overly focused on the antics of his hands, Jade makes his move. Burrowing his face into the crook of your neck, fangs sinking quick and deep into your very flesh. Piercing right through your skin, drawing blood. He stays there for quite awhile, tongue lapping up whatever spills out of his bite.

It’ll be a shame to waste even a single drop, no?

[slow-motionlovepotion]

𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆 | 𝒋.𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈:  Joel Miller x f!Reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.6K - this was not meant to be this long, oops.

𝒂/𝒏: I'm feral for Joel Miller and I won't apologise for that. This ended up so much softer than I planned but Joel Miller deserves to be loved, goddmit. part two is already in progress ~ no beta, we die like men

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+ - smut, post-apocalypse, pre-Ellie, age gap (mid/late 20s!reader x early 40s!Joel), first time, loss of virginity, fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it kids), Joel Miller has a big dick, risky creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, manhandling, angst, implications of rape (does not involve reader or Joel), soft!Joel, fluff, idiots in love, innocence kink, Joel Miller is down bad. - minors do not interact.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Sometimes when I look into your eyes, I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

Joel had found you cowering in the corner of a store in some godforsaken town somewhere in deep Texas, the twitching body of an infected splayed in front of you. He’d eyed you cautiously, keeping his distance, gun pointed directly at you, not afraid to pull the trigger. 

“No, please, no. I’m okay, I’m fine, not bitten. I promise. Please” you were frantic, begging for your life. 

“Just the one?” He’d asked, voice gruff and dark, he exuded danger. 

You nodded “It was out the back, I checked but I didn’t see it, then it just came out of nowhere”

He nods once “You alone?” 

“Yeah, it’s just me” you hadn’t moved from your spot on the floor, hands raised in surrender, shaking in fear.  

“Christ” the man mutters more to himself than to you, giving you the once over he lowers the gun “C’mon, I’m not leaving you here” 

Your time together was meant to be brief, Joel had planned to find you somewhere safe to stay, people you could live your life with, some sense of normality. Life would never be like it was before the outbreak but maybe he could find you a new version of living. 

It took two months to find the first group of settlers but Joel didn’t even let you near them, he’d checked them out alone, swiftly deciding it wasn’t a safe place for you, he didn’t say why. Another six months until the next group, they initially seemed better but the cries echoing outside the commune at night told Joel all he needed to know. 

It’s been exactly 2 years since he found you in that abandoned store, you’d managed to survive for six months, barely, living in a constant state of fight or flight. And then Joel came, Joel who took a chance on you, who shared his supplies and taught you to survive. Joel, who stood watch and let you sleep despite being exhausted himself, who bandaged your wounds, and made his own life harder just to make yours a little bit easier. 

Joel, who would watch the world burn just to make sure you were safe. 

You could still to this day, pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. You watched the world burn. Well not the world, just a decrepit cabin on the side of a road somewhere in Texas. He'd thought it was safe, he’d checked and double checked, the place was free of infected, or so he thought. The thick knit of your scarf was the first thing that saved your life that night, when the infected had come at you from behind, jumping out of the dark and going for your neck.  Joel hadn’t even hesitated, gun drawn and a bullet in its skull before you could even cry out for help. He’d reached for you, entwining his fingers with yours as he dragged you out of the building, kicking the cap off a gas canister as he went and throwing a lighter behind him as the door had shut. He pushed you ahead of him, protecting your body from the flames licking at the dry timber frame behind him.  

You realised you loved him, were in love with him, laying on the dusty ground, with Joel’s imposing body shielded yours. You felt safe, he was firm behind you, chest heaving with laboured breaths, arms wrapped around you, keeping you close, muttering softly into your ear, “it’s okay, it’s okay, I got ya”.

So by the time you came across the third group you’d become quite the survivor. Joel had taught you to defend yourself, how to shoot a gun, how to actually use a knife, the weak spots of a man. You’d wondered why he was teaching you this, why you needed to know how to break the grasp of hands around your throat, how to use his body weight against him. When you’d stumbled across a group of men, animals really, surrounding a woman on her knees, her sobs echoed in your ears and you’d immediately searched for Joel, hands shaking as you grasped at his arms, eyes wide and terrified, you finally understood.

“They… they. Shit Joel, they were…”  He didn’t need you to finish, he knew what they were doing. Within 20 minutes he had you both packed and on the road. 

You felt like you’d been walking for weeks, in reality it had only been three days but you were exhausted. You were heading East, Joel had heard about a group of women that had settled just across the state border. You trudged slowly behind Joel, the unseasonable heat making you sweat, boots kicking up dust with every step, lost in your own thoughts.

“What’s bugging you?” Joel’s voice pulled you from your thoughts

“We should’ve helped her,” you confessed.  It didn’t sit right, that you just left her there for those men to take what they wanted

“There’s nothing we could’ve done, no guarantee she’d be safe in the next place” he’d explained softly 

“Is that why you’ve not left me?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it.

Joel stops, his eyes meet yours but he doesn’t answer, he can’t, can’t admit that he won’t leave you, can’t admit why he won’t leave you. He can’t admit that he loves you.

Darkness has fallen by the time you reach a safe house, a favour from a friend, he’d said. The house was neat, tidy and clean, if not a bit dusty. Joel clears downstairs first, checks upstairs and calls you up to the bedroom.  A small puff of dust is released from the bed as he drops your bags. One bed. There’s two of you and more than one bedroom, but you know he won’t let you out of his sight. He won’t risk it. 

“Joel?” you croak, voice trembling as you sit on the end of the bed.

“Hmm?” He’s stood by the dresser opposite the bed, removing his jacket and boots. 

“I… there’s something- uhh, shit” you pause, taking a shaky breath “listen, please don’t make a big deal of this but I want you to fuck me” 

“Darlin’, I’m not gonna do that” he responds almost immediately, doesn’t give himself time to even think about it, doesn’t let himself indulge in the possibility. 

Not that he’s not thought about it, God knows he has. He’s wanted you, wanted to feel your lips on his, feel your nails claw at his back as he takes you. But you never gave any indication you wanted it too, so he stayed respectful, well, as respectful as he could. There’d been nights he’d fisted his cock, your name a whisper on his lips as he came into his hand, while your sleeping body lay just inches away.

“Please” you barely whisper, he goes to speak, to reject you again, but you cut him off,  “Joel, please. I don’t- I want it to be you, I don’t want it to be like that” your eyes are pleading, silently begging “please” 

“You’ve not…? There’s not been anyone?” He asks tentatively, hoping he’s misunderstood, that you’re not actually asking that of him, he crosses the room, sitting next to you on the end of the bed. 

“I’ve been kinda busy, what with the end of the world and all that” you try and make a joke but it falls flat, sobering, shining a light on all the ways your life has been taken away from you, all the experiences you’ve missed out on. 

It shouldn’t be him, he knows it shouldn’t, he’s so much older, he’s cruel and ruthless and angry. You deserve something else, soft, gentle, loving. He can’t give you that. 

But if he doesn’t, if he says no and doesn’t do this for you, there’s no guarantee the next guy is going to love you, no guarantee that he won’t hurt you. For Joel, that decides it, he can’t give you what you deserve but he can give you something better than what’s out there. 

Cautious fingers on his leg startle him out of his thoughts, “Just once, just this once” His agreement doesn’t soothe you, it ignites something, butterflies rolling in your belly; you want this. 

You’d seen other men on your travels, the way they treated women, both good and bad. You’d thought, naively, that Joel might be like that too, that Joel might take you to his bed, fuck himself into you then roll over, pretend it never happened. But he never did, always respectful, barely ever touching you unless he had to, you’d shared beds, and bandaged each other up, but he’d never touched, never taken it further. “All right?” He nudges when you don’t respond

You nod tightly and whisper a “thank you”, sitting quietly in awkward silence, you don’t know what to do next, you’ve read books, you knew how to do this before but you didn’t know how to deal with an arrangement like this. 

Joel breaks the silence first “Do you want to… tonight or would you rather w-?”

“Tonight,” your response is a bit quick and Joel huffs an almost laugh “tonight is good”  

You don’t know how to phrase ‘lets just get it over and done with’ when you’re about to fuck someone for the first time. He stands then, grabbing something from his bag then dropping it to the floor. Liquid sloshes as Joel brings the flask to his lips, drawing in three times, brow furrowed. He hands the  flask to you “Drink” and the look in his eyes tells you not to question him. 

You take a sip and nearly retch, the taste burning your throat and nose, eyes watering. You hadn’t liked whiskey much before and while it’s rare to find anything else these days, you still hadn’t got used to the taste. You take another sip, stomaching this one better. You hold the flask back out to Joel and he takes another drag before placing it on the dresser with slightly more force than he meant.

In two steps he’s back across the room, his hands finding your face, calloused fingers dragging along the skin of your jaw, bringing you to meet his lips. The kiss is bruising and feverish, hot lips pressing to yours, he licks into your mouth and you moan, it’s sinful and sweet and Joel wants more. He wants to pull more pretty noises from you, wants to hear you scream his name. His cock responds eagerly, hardening in his jeans, he’s not felt desire like this in years, it’s burning through his blood, overwhelming his senses. 

Joel stands between your legs, tilting your chin up, bringing a knee to rest on the mattress between your thighs. One of his large hands moves to support your neck, the other tracing the line of your throat, gripping gently. The kiss has grown sloppy, Joel is breathing hard, nipping at your lips. His knee between your legs moves to press into your clothed core and despite the layers of fabric you can feel the heat of his thick thigh, your hips roll, chasing more pleasure and a groan escapes your throat unexpectedly. 

Joel’s hand drops from your throat, following the neckline of your shirt, down between your breasts, flicking the buttons open, exposing you to the humid air. He pushes the flannel off your shoulders, taking the straps of your bra with it, reaching behind you to unclasp it, inwardly pleased he managed the first try.   

You slide your hands to his waist, dragging his shirt with you, brushing your fingers across bare skin. Your fingers trace the waistband of his jeans but he reaches for your hands, wrapping a large hand around your wrists he pushes you flat, pinning your arms above your head. The other hand joins his knee between your legs, fingers teasing the seam of your jeans. 

“You asked me to fuck you,” he pulls a nipple into his mouth, teeth nibbling at the sensitive bud “n’ I will” It may have been a while but it’s really just second nature to him and he feels you shiver beneath him “gonna make you feel good darlin’”

“Joel” Your throat is dry and your voice cracks but it’s enough, his hands reach for the button of your jeans, working them down your legs while his mouth assaults your breasts. You can’t focus, it’s too much, his mouth, hands, the feel of his body, large and imposing over yours. He finally gets your jeans off, discarding them to the floor.

You reach for him, finding the buttons of his shirt, tugging gently but making your intentions clear, he allows your trembling fingers to fumble with the buttons for a minute before helping you, making quick work of the buttons, all but ripping the shirt down his arms, throwing it to the floor behind him before positioning himself between your thighs.

Joel’s hand runs up your outer thigh, fingers digging into the flesh of your bum. He trails kisses over your skin, behind your ear, down your jaw, across each of your breasts, fingers playing with the nipple neglected by his mouth. He moves his head down your exposed torso, tongue tasting the salty sweat on your skin you gasp softly as he reaches the waistband of your underwear, black lace, a little luxury that makes you feel pretty and feminine. He nudges the fabric with his nose, breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver, 

“You don’t have to” you whisper into the darkness.

A soft “yeah I do” is mumbled into your skin. He makes quick work of removing your underwear, dragging the lace down your legs and dropping them to the floor in a rather obscene gesture.

His mouth is back on your hips working his way to nuzzle at your folds, leaving open mouthed kisses and grazes of his teeth on your skin. His hands press against the back of your thighs, pushing your knees up to your chest, spreading you wide. Joel’s eyes roll back in his head at the sight of you, pussy glistening in the dim light, the low growl that sounds in his chest shakes the bed and it takes all his restraint to take it slow, make it good for you. 

“This all for me?” He rubs his thumb through your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it up to your clit, circling the little bundle. You look down at him between your spread thighs and nod. 

The sound you make when Joel flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your cunt is unholy, and when he flicks his tongue against your clit you can’t help the way a hand reaches for his hair and tugs, nor can you help the sharp cry of his name. 

Languid, is the word you’d use to describe the way Joel works at your cunt. Long, slow, lazy circles around your swollen clit, soft passes over the entrance to your cunt, not giving you more than that for what feels like hours. You catch on, quite quickly, that this is as much for Joel as it is for you, and you think he might be enjoying it the most.  

Joel hums around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, and the arch of your back is violent, a stark contrast to Joel’s gentle movements, biting down on the fleshy part of your thumb to muffle your scream. 

“Don’t do that” a hand reaches up in the dark to pull your fist from your mouth, “wanna hear you” his breath is hot against your core, tongue lapping at you like a man starved. 

You’re hot, skin prickly with a layer of sweat, hips rolling, pushing your soaked pussy into Joel’s face, your clit catching on his nose as he teases your entrance with his tongue. 

“Jo-el” your voice is whiny to your own ears and your face heats at the sound “more, please more” 

Joel lets out a hum at your request, bringing two thick fingers to slide into you and already you feel the intoxicating spark of your orgasm approaching. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and the feeling shoots straight to his cock. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, your grip in his hair painful even to you.  “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, Joel”

You’re so close that when Joel crooks his fingers and continues his assault on your clit, your orgasm tears through you. You stiffen, hissing a “Yesss”through gritted teeth, hands clawing at the sheets and Joel’s hair.

“‘Atta girl” he coos around your clit “tha’s it baby” The sound of Joel’s voice is muffled by the ringing in your ears and when you open your eyes all you can see is stars, flashes of white clouding your vision. 

Sensing his movement, you open your eyes and when they’ve adjusted to the darkness again, you can see the burly outline of Joel kneeling between your legs, his eyes drag down your body, fingers of his left hand gently caressing the bend of your knee. You sit up, reaching for his belt, tugging at the buckle. Joel watches as you pull his belt free, fingers ghosting over his length confined in the denim as you pull down the zip. 

When your fingers dip inside to grasp him he can’t stop the choked “fuck” that escapes his throat. Pulling him free of his boxers, your jaw drops at the size, fuck he’s thick, so thick, and swaying heavily between his legs, dripping with precum. With hesitant fingers you run the pad of your thumb down his slit, smearing the fluid, stopping to rub your thumb on the underside of his head. Joel can’t help the jerky twitch of his hips at the stimulation. You take that as a positive, repeating the action once, twice more, before calloused hands still your movements. You look up to Joel, confusion clear on your face. 

“Won’t last if you keep that up” Joel explains, his voice a whisper, vulnerability evident even in his low tone. 

You release his length from your grasp, bringing your thumb coated in his arousal to your mouth, sucking tentatively. You don’t notice Joel watching you through hooded eyes, but he makes quick work of his jeans and boxers, kicking the offending fabric off as quick as his aching bones will let him.  

Experienced hands lift your legs to hook over his hips as he settles himself between your thighs again. You can feel the thick length of Joel’s cock pressed firmly against you, sliding through the wetness left by his mouth and your orgasm as he ruts against you. It takes the entirety of Joel’s willpower to not fuck into you, coming back to himself, he remembers why he’s doing this. 

“Gotta tell me if y’need to stop” he slurs against your temple and he feels you nod as he presses a soft kiss to your clammy skin. Joel rests the heavy weight of his cock against your entrance, running the head between your folds, bumping your clit and soaking himself with your wetness. He presses himself in to your tight heat and you feel like you’re being split open, wincing at the burn “I know, ‘m sorry darlin’, it won’t hurt for long promise”   

Joel pushes your sweat-damp hair out of your face, big hands cupping your face, open mouth dragging against yours. He tries to distract you with wet kisses to your jaw but when he pushes himself deeper you cry out, hands flying to claw at his hips, stopping him from moving any further. 

“We can stop” Joel mutters into your open mouth but you give a quick shake of your head 

“No. I’m okay, I’ll be okay” The feeling is foreign, neither his fingers or tongue could’ve prepared you for the stretch of his cock, nor the desperate ache that settled deep inside you, the one you know only Joel can satisfy. 

You can feel him throbbing inside you, and it’s taking everything in him to hold still

“Eyes on me darlin’” Joel orders as he pries your hand off his hip, entwines his fingers with yours, and pins your hand to the mattress. Your eyes meet through the darkness and there’s a softness in Joel’s eyes you wish you could bottle and keep.

You tense up in anticipation of Joel’s next movement, squeezing your cunt around Joel’s cock

“Fuckin’ Christ  darlin’, y’gotta relax, just relax” you will your body to relax, to release the squeezing of your core, “that’s it, doin’ so good, you’re doin’ so good. Takin me so well” and yes, you keen at his praise, the throb of arousal in your stretched cunt is heavenly and Joel takes your moment of distraction to sink the rest of his length into you. 

“Fuck” you whimper, the sharp stretch shocks you, eyes widening.

He shudders a breath above you, “‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry”

“So big Joel. ‘T  hurts” you practically sob and the sound breaks his heart in ways he didn’t expect. Joel breaks eye contact first, fixing his eyes on where you’re currently impaled on his cock. He moves to pull out but you tighten your thighs, keeping him still “No, don’t. Don’t wanna stop. Just give me a minute” you close your eyes and breath in deep through your nose, letting a shaky breath out. 

“Touch yourself,” Joel orders, bringing your hand still clutching his to his mouth, wetting your fingers with his tongue before pressing your fingers against your clit “‘t’ll make you feel better” 

You obey, stroking your bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your previous orgasm “that feel good?” He asks as you tighten involuntarily around him. 

“Yes,” you pause for a moment, continuing to stroke at your clit. Warmth blooms under your fingers, arousal spreading through your body, loosening your muscles, the discomfort subsides, leaving behind a different kind of ache “can you move? Please” 

The way you ask him, with your pleases and thank yous, still so polite despite the harsh world you live in, it’s innocent and sweet, and he loves it. It activates something primal in him, some deep desire to protect you, to please you. To pleasure you. 

Joel settles his knees wide on the mattress, pulling his cock from your depths before pushing back in slowly, when you don’t stop him he repeats the action. “shit darlin’, so fuckin’ tight”, and he’s not wrong, the girth of his cock is stretching you in ways you’ve never been before, you can feel every vein, every ridge, every goddamn fucking inch as he works himself in and out of you. It’s steady, controlled, almost gentle, the way he rolls his hips, leaving enough space between you for your fingers to continue working your clit, not that you need the distraction anymore. 

He could cum right there, your aching cunt absolute bliss around him. The whine that leaves your throat is of pleasure not pain and the tightness in his chest borders on uncomfortable. He’s done this before, he’s experienced, he’s had women screaming his name but nothing compares to the breathy sound of his name leaving your lips. You’re so sweet, eyes fluttering, fingers ghosting across the skin of his hips, the softness of his belly, the firm muscles of his chest and his broad shoulders. 

You could pretend, wrapped up in Joel like this, that it’s not the end of the world, that this comfy bed in this nicely decorated house is yours and Joel’s. You pretend, just for a minute, as he’s fucking himself into you, that he’s yours. Your hands reaching to wrap around his back, nails scratching at the muscles working beneath the skin, it’s intimate.

You feel his pace falter, “‘m close darlin’” he mumbles into the thick air above you, “fuck, y’gotta come for me baby, come on” it sounds like he’s begging and you find that you quite like the sound of Joel begging, especially when he’s begging you to cum for him.  

He can see you’re close, legs twitching, breathing heavy, he can feel the tell-tale flutters in your cunt and he knows “what d’ya need?” He pants, chasing your high, no care or regard for his own anymore, he just wants you to get there. 

“Joel, I need mo-” he drives himself into you deeper, tilting his hips to rub his cock against your sweet spot. With fluttering eyes and heaving chest you whine a tight “that’s it” fingers working furiously at your clit, hips rocking down as you meet his thrusts “Joel, yes” you groan, the sound reverberating in your chest. 

He feels your cunt squeeze him “tha’s it, good girl”, he needs to stop or he’ll cum but you don’t care, continuing to rock your hips, thrusting down forcefully against him, cock reaching deeper than you thought possible and you tense, muttering a “fuck” as you cum hard around him. You can’t comprehend that this is what it feels like, the violent quivering of your muscles, tight and squeezing. Fuck, you don’t want to let this feeling go, Joel’s cock buried so deep inside you it hurts, you never want to cum without this ever again. 

Joel gives a few tight thrusts, “Shit, what a sight” He has to pull out, he can’t cum inside you, can’t take the risk but the rhythmic pulsing of your walls is dragging him kicking and screaming to the edge.  You let out a breathy “inside Joel, inside,” the way you say his name sends a shiver down his spine, but the way you moan the softest “please” has him cumming, cock twitching violently, hips rocking, pushing his release deeper. 

His mouth meets yours roughly, ragged groans escaping between harsh kisses as he continues to pump inside you. He can’t remember the last time he came this hard, beyond satisfied and completely drained but he still can’t break his lips from yours. The kiss is soft now, tender and lazy, something close to loving. His sweaty weight above you is grounding, bringing you back to reality. 

Joel groans and drops his forehead to your chest, cock still buried deep you can sense his reluctance to part from you, you tangle your fingers in his hair, allowing him to rest against you. He stays for a minute or two before groaning, aging knees and shoulders protesting as he hovers over you. 

He moves slowly, dragging his softening cock out from your over sensitive heat and you moan low in the back of your throat as he disappears, returning from the en-suite with a damp towel, 

“There’s warm water” he mumbles as he wipes the towel gently between your legs. You hum contentedly, your tired body drowsy and dopamine drunk. You briefly think about the long hot shower you’re going to take in the morning when the bed dips next to you and Joel reaches for you, rolling you into his side, your head on his chest. If you had more energy you’d say something but the gentle caress of Joel’s thumb behind your ear and the slow thump of his heartbeat quickly has your eyes closing and your breath steadying. 

“Was that” Joel pauses, what, good? All right? Just okay? he thinks it’ll kill him if it was bad for you

“Good, it was good” you offer him a soft smile “thank you” 

“Christ darlin’ so fuckin’ polite” he can feel himself stirring again beneath the sheets, and fuck he’s depraved, he’s convinced you could make him cum just by saying please. 

Joel must think you’re asleep and you feel it more than you hear it, his whispered admission of “love you” spoken into your hair as he presses soft kisses to the top of your head. 

𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[alwaysthegeorges]

No Going Back - George Weasley x Reader

Summary - During the Yule Ball, you and George accidentally brew a sex pollen potion instead of amortentia.

Warnings - fluff, pining, and last but not least, smut (characters are aged up to be 18 in their last year of school). No use of Y/N. 

Word Count - 4.4k (edited) (i’m not sorry)

a/n - i <3 george weasley. i also mean no snape slander, just making comments more realistic for the pov :)

!gif not mine!

“Whatcha doin’?” you asked as you walked into the almost-empty classroom.

George lifted his head from the boiling cauldron he was watching over when you entered, eager to share what he had created. 

“Well, my dear, Fred has instructed me to try and brew Amortentia so he can try and woo Angelica. He didn’t know how to do it, so I thought I’d step up and give it a try. I was the one that took the notes during Snape’s lecture, anyway,” he explained, winking at you playfully after the last part.

The boys were notorious for not paying attention in class, but George had recently begun to share your preference for potions class. After the night in the common room you shared, filled with fun stories and passionate rants about how useful a knowledge of potions could be, he seemed to become more interested in Snape’s lectures. George even made note to ask you to get together to share notes between quizzes and tests. You were glad that he was becoming more interested in school, but couldn’t stop wondering why he seemed so excited about a topic only after you had went on about your own love for it. Of course, you weren’t complaining, especially because now he seems to want to spend more time with you alone, and you’ve had a crush on him since the two of you were seated next to each other in 5th year charms.

“Is that so? Does Fred not seem to think he can woo her on his own?”

“Apparently not. He’s been trying too hard and thinks he’s overdone it. He’s asked her to the Yule Ball like 3 times already,” George says, chuckling over his brother’s endeavors.

“Yikes. He clearly didn’t inherit the charms of the family then,” you joked, nudging George’s arm with your elbow. He leaned forward towards your stature, smirking with intrigue at your comment.

“And who do you rather think inherited those genes?” he asked you playfully, his prideful smirk remaining on his beautiful, freckled face.

“Ah, well, I’d have to say Harry, being as your mother counts him as part of the family, and he seems to have more charm with the ladies than any of you!” you declared, smiling widely.

George tilts his head back, clutching his chest in faux agony.

“Oh how you wound me, dearest.”

The two of you share a charged moment of giggling before the moment got cut short with a terrible sound coming from the cauldron.

“Merlin, I forgot to keep stirring it!” George exclaimed, rushing over to the side of the cauldron once again.

Just as he reached the bubbling, smoking mixture, a popping sound and a wall of purple smoke filled the room in less than a second. Once the dust settled, you looked over at George only to fall into a fit of laughter at his appearance. The tall, muscular ginger was covered head-to-toe in a purple dust, which left not a part of his body uncovered. The tall man wiped his eyes, if only to playfully scowl at you laughing at him. Of course, he found your giggles so contagious, he couldn’t help but fall into a fit of them himself.

Once the laughter died down, you and George began walking back to his common room to clean up.

“Guess I’m going to need some help with that potion, too,” he chuckled.

⏃⏂⏃

The time was getting late, or so it felt like. Everyone else had left your common room, but George remained determined to finish the unit the two of you were working on. Snape had made a paper due in two days from when it was assigned, like the evil bastard he is, and you knew George was stressing. He was never very good at writing papers. Like the good friend you are, you had offered to help him, especially with his wording. He had gladly accepted, appreciating your help. Then, not only would the two of you get to spend time together, but you could help him become a better student, which was always a nice goal.

After the third question he answered was revealed to be wrong, George groaned and laid his head back on the common room couch seat, covering his face with his hands. You propped your arm up on the seat as well and turned your body to face George, trying not to let that beautiful groan go to places it shouldn’t. You were just friends, after all. 

“It’s alright George, I’m sure you know it. You just need a little break,” you comforted, laying a hand on his shoulder gently.

George released his hands from his face, allowing them to slide to his sides once more, and turned his head to face you. You could’ve sworn you saw a blush donning his cheeks as his eyes flicked ever so slightly towards your hand, but the moment passed just as quickly as it had appeared. His beautiful brown eyes glistened in the light coming from the fireplace, and a heat began to rush to your own cheeks. You wanted to blame that on the fireplace as well.

“Perhaps. Maybe we should put on some music. A little dance party never hurt anyone,” he suggested, a shit-eating grin beginning to take over his face.

With a nod of agreement from you, George popped up and put on a record. You groaned as you heard the first few notes of O’ Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds begin to play. Of course the man would put on a song he knew you couldn’t resist dancing to. He flounced over to where you were seated on the floor and reached out his hand, a glimmer of mischief lingering in his eyes. You grabbed his hand and he pulled you up to your feet so quickly it felt like you were flying for a second, so much so that you lost your balance and fell a bit forward into George’s arms. You were able to quickly gain your composure, giggling it off and turning your head away so he couldn’t see the redness that had climbed onto your cheeks. All George did was chuckle at you, and he began leading you with the hand he still held to the main area of the common room. The man used your hand to turn you around and begin the dancing he had suggested, and you couldn’t help but laugh. The two of you turned and swayed to the rhythm until you naturally fell into a close position, chests only inches apart, hands clasped together. It felt as if you were at last year’s Yule Ball, only this was much better, since you didn’t have a nervous Seamus stepping on your toes. You swayed to the music in perfect harmony, easily falling into an unspoken rhythm that always followed the two of you. George must’ve been thinking the same thing you were, because after a few more seconds of only the music filling the room, he spoke in a hushed tone.

“This is nice. I like dancing with you,” he smiled.

“I like dancing with you too, George. You’re surprisingly good at it.” George rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say I practiced to impress my date last year. Seems I was the only one out of the two of us,” he chucked, eyes gleaming with the memory. “She stepped on me so many times, I think I have permanent markings on my shoes.”

You giggled, sharing his pain.

“Poor little George,” you teased.

“Oh hush, you,” he fired, wrinkling his nose in the way that made your heart flutter.

After another quiet moment, he seemed to hesitate at saying something else. You piped up and bugged him to say what was on his mind, eager to hear what he had to say.

“I don’t know if it would be weird, but would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me this year? It would save us from having to scramble to find decent dates. And hey, if it’s anything like tonight, I think my shoes will be intact by the end of the night,” he chuckled, trying to make light of the question, but his arms had seemed to tense up a bit.

You smiled up at him, trying your best to not let him feel your nerves.

“Of course I’d like to go with you. I’m sure it’ll be amazing. I heard they were even trying to get Nick Cave come perform this year!”

George sighed and continued your conversation as the two of you continued to sway to the music, but you could’ve sworn his body relaxed with that breath of air. You tried to shake the thought off, because why would he be nervous about asking you to go to the dance? You were sure your crush was merely one-sided. Thinking he had any other feelings towards you would only lead to your own heartbreak, so you pushed the thoughts down and simply tried to enjoy this moment.

⏃⏂⏃

As the ball continued on, you and George couldn’t help but get restless. The music this year was terrible compared to last year, and somehow they managed to mess up the catering, so the pumpkin juice was watery at best. As the night droned on, you couldn’t help but want to get out of there. You knew it wasn’t proper, since it was the middle of the party, but you could tell most people were not having a good time by the amount of people secluding to their tables. 

George and you had danced a bit in the beginning, but the two of you agreed that it began to suck so bad it wasn’t even worth trying to jam to. Instead, you had found your way to your table with his brothers, and laughed the night away. The Weasleys never failed to make a boring event a good time. That is, until Fred began pestering George about the Amortentia. George tried to wave him off, but once Fred left, he seemed genuinely bothered by the fact he wasn’t able to brew it. As you thought more about what went wrong, it felt as if the idea just fell right into your lap.

“George, I know what went wrong. We can fix the potion for Fred!” you shared excitedly, placing your hand on his freckled arm. He turned to you, face lighting up.

“Really? We can do it right?” he asked excitedly.

“I think so! C’mon, then!” you exclaimed, standing from your chair.

“What? Now?”

“Yes, now! Would you rather stay here and watch Neville try to dance with your sister again? Because I assure you, they are the only ones having fun at the moment.”

George laughed, grabbing your hand.

“Let’s go, then,” he said, shit-eating grin returning to his beautiful features. 

⏃⏂⏃

George basically dragged you back to his dorm. Strangely, this was never how you pictured this happening. Yet, here you were. Honestly, his setup as a prefect was not too shabby at all. An entire room and bathroom to himself, a nice desk he could lay out papers and his cauldron on, a whole story above the main dorms? He was pretty much living the dream up there. 

The man eagerly began taking his notes from different books, all scattered along his desk. Though the man had his own space for once, you knew he still wouldn’t clean up after himself. Guys.

After about an hour that had only felt like mere minutes, the two of you had almost completely finished the potion. After decent care and proper mixing, there was only one step left to complete the most powerful love potion ever made.

“Alright then, the recipe says that you must add three drops of unicorn tears, exactly. No more, no less,” you explain.

“What happens if more is added? I don’t have the most reliable dropper,” George questions fretfully.

“Beats me. I’ve never seen it done in real life before. Just, be careful, I guess.”

George looks back at you, a worried look in his eyes as he turns to the cauldron.

“Now or never, I guess. Here we go... there’s one, two...”

Before George could finish his sentence, a cloud of dark red smoke erupts from the cauldron and fills the room. The two of you look to each other in horror, equally knowing that is not how the potion should act. 

“What did you do?” you questioned frantically.

“I don’t know! I guess the dropper malfunctioned and did two fast drops instead of only one! What’s it going to do?”

“I don’t know, don’t ask me! Do you think it’s going to explode again?”

The two of you look to the cauldron, which remained calm as ever. The smoke even began to settle. You sighed with a bit of relief.

“I don’t think so,” George answered. “Last time it did that because of the bubbles. It seems to be settling all by itself.”

Just as the you began to relax, thinking nothing was to come out of fucking up the potion, you noticed the smoke beginning to seep into George’s skin. You looked down at your legs to see it was doing the same to you. George didn’t seem to notice, and it didn’t feel like it was doing anything to your body, so the two of you decided to call it a night. 

You were in the process of going back to your dorm when all of a sudden, a burning desire settled into your lower abdomen. A sensation that you’ve never felt before began building and building, taking over your entire body by the second. Your body began feeling hot all over, and an all too familiar wetness began to pool in your panties. You rushed back to your dorm, and thankfully none of the other girls were back from the dance yet. You thought maybe satisfying yourself would make the world-burning desire subside, but even long after you finished and attempted to go to sleep, the feeling of needing more lingered in you. You tossed and turned, but no amount of sleepiness could satisfy your growing need. Giving in, you swiftly got out of bed and stormed over to George’s dorms, wondering if he was having the same affects as you.

Right as you were about to knock on his door, it swung open to the tall, flushed man glistening with sweat. George’s face was almost as red as his hair, but even in this condition, he was as beautiful as ever. The moment you saw him, the burning between your legs heightened. You tried to suppress your squirming.

“Hey,” George panted. “I was just coming to find you.”

He rushed you inside his room and locked the door quickly as you entered.

“What the fuck is going on?” you ask frantically, still trying to keep your movements under control, even when the itch to go up to George and kiss him was growing by the minute.

“I don’t know, one minute I’m fine, the next my skin feels like it’s on fire!”

“I know! What are we supposed to do?!”

“I don’t know that, either,” George gasped, throwing a hand into his sweaty but yet still perfectly curled hair. “We don’t know how long it takes to wear off. There’s no research in the school for this shit. I mean, I guess we can try doing it ourselves, but-”

“Doesn’t work,” you mutter, casting your eyes upon the ground. You desperately tried to hold yourself together as the dirty thoughts in your head became louder. “I tried.”

“You tri- oh. Okay, yeah. Wonderful,” he flushed more, if a such thing was even possible to do in his condition.

There was a nervousness to his voice, one that didn’t sound like it was stemming from the stress of the situation. The nerves felt like- like he was trying to hold desperately onto something he had been trying to keep for a while.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I mean, I could be better. This isn’t the best situation to be in right now, especially with you.”

“Especially with me? What’s that got to mean?”

“Ugh, I just.. I don’t know, okay? I’m stressed out enough, I didn’t need this- predicament. I’m already dealing with enough feelings.”

Thanks George, how vague.

“I mean, you can always go fix it. I know you’ve got a crush on Angelina, but you don’t want Fred to find out. You were being weird around her all evening. I can tell she feels the same, if that’s what you’re worried about. If you so badly want this to be fixed, I’m sure she would be happy to help you out,” you explain, even though your heart feels like it’s tearing into two by telling him. 

You had seen the way Angelina had been looking at him all night. It made you sick, but you knew he was stressed about school, so if that push is what he needed to help him out, so be it. Who were you to keep him from his crush.

“Angelina? No! Even though Fred has a crush on her, I wouldn’t go for her anyway. I don’t like her like that. She’s not the one I would rather fix this with!” George exclaims, exasperated.

A pause. What? Who did he want to fix it with?

“Then who? Tell me whoever you’d like and I can try to track them down. I don’t want you stuck like this when you’ve got so much going on already.”

George shoves his hands in his hair again, letting out an exasperated and strained sigh. He plops on the side of his bed, that strong body of his looking weaker as he defeatedly sits there.

“You really don’t get it do you? Or do you enjoy seeing me in pain?”

Confused, your eyes flick to where they really shouldn’t have. There, sitting very uncomfortably in the leg of his loose basketball shorts, was a very large problem. The sight just about made your knees give out, and you stumbled back a bit to lean on the corner of George’s desk. Your mind flicked back to what he had said a moment ago. You really don’t get it.

“What do I not get?”

Another sigh.

“Have I not made it glaringly obvious? I try to study with you as much as I can, alone. I always make sure I play the songs that help your brain relax when you’re stressed. I make sure I sit on the right of you during classes so you can see the board. I asked you to the bloody Yule Ball. Can’t you see? I like you, okay? I always have,” George lets out like a wave of emotion. His hands fly up to cover his eyes, as if they were strained from stress or lack of sleep.

The fluttering in your chest begins again, but not the kind caused by the potion. George likes you? He likes you back? You heart begins beating so fast its sound fills your ears. A rush of emotions fill you. Happiness, clarity, regret of not seeing it sooner. You had pushed down the idea that he liked you for so long that you couldn’t see what was right in front of you! Now’s the time to make up for it, you guessed.

You walked slowly over to where George sat and faced him. Carefully, as if you were handling the most precious pottery, you moved your hands to remove his from his eyes. George looked up at you with his glimmering eyes full of questions, all of which you answered by leaning down and kissing him.

The moment your lips met, it’s as if time stopped. The most colorful fireworks seemed to flood your mind, because finally, you were kissing George, and he was kissing you back. He kissed you like he had been waiting for years, like you were his air and the two of you were underwater. His hands moved to cup your cheek and press along your back, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were flush against each other. The burning sensation along your entire body intensified, as if this is what the feeling was waiting for. George must’ve felt it too, because he let a groan seep into your kiss. Your legs almost gave out at the sound, and as quick as lightning, George flipped you so you were lying on the bed with him on top of you. Pausing to take a breath, George’s eyes flicked from your lips back to your eyes.

“You won’t believe how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he admitted, eyes gleaming in the light from the fireplace.

“Me too,” you whispered, taking a moment to trace his features with the tip of your finger. His freckles, his strong nose, breathtaking smile. Your hand settled on his cheek, thumb rubbing up and down like he was the most precious thing you had ever held. Honestly, he was.

George leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time. You could feel all his emotion pouring into the kiss, almost gasping from the intensity you felt. You let him take his time with you, mapping out your every feature with his lips, planting loving kisses all over. It was more than pleasant to say the least, having someone you had loved in secret for years finally loving you right back. You could’ve stayed like that for hours, if it weren’t for the increasing pressure and sensation in your abdomen. You were sure George felt the heat rising as well, because with a glance, he began kissing down your neck, paying special attention to the spot that made you squirm underneath him. Before you knew it, he was kissing down your clothed chest. His eyes flicked to yours, as if asking a question, and you nodded, moving to remove your shirt.

Once it was across the room, George reached behind and unclasped your bra with such skill it seemed like he had practiced just for this moment. The rush made your heart pump fast with excitement and anticipation, but what it pumped with the most was love for this man. You could tell how much he cared from every glance up to your face, always with the question of consent. You happily gave it to him every time, knowing there was no one else in the world you’d rather share this moment with.

Once your top was fully unclothed, George’s mouth began trailing all over your body, taking special time to grasp each nipple between his teeth. With each flick of his tongue, you could feel the burning sensation growing, so you grasped onto George’s shoulder as if to warn him. The potion must’ve been giving him the treatment it had given to you, because he seemed to understand each of your movements perfectly. That, or he already knew you the meaning behind your movements because he had always paid such close attention to your body language. After gaining consent, George happily ripped the rest of your clothes off in seconds, and George’s fingers trailed down to the spot with the most intense burning. The spot you had been waiting for. After getting the okay from you and wetting his fingers, he slowly pushed two into you, curling them perfectly to hit the spot that made your body go haywire. George watched as your back rose off the mattress, as your beautiful eyes rolled back into your head with every curve of his fingertips. It was the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen. After using his other hand to press on your lower stomach gently in order to intensify the feeling, he dipped his head bow and his tongue went to work on your throbbing clit. The pleasure this man gave you was so intense and incredible he had you in tears in seconds, working you up to one of the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced. Every muscle in your body was on fire, the perfect man giving you pleasure combined with the power from the potion sending you over the edge in less than a minute. Your body seemed to set fire as the coil in your stomach snapped and the pleasure hit you like a wave all at once. George took a moment to take in your movements, in awe of everything you did. Without wasting any more time, George crawled back up to you and kissed you, wrapping the arm he used to prop himself up with around your arm to cradle you. You felt elated, wanting nothing more than to have more of this man. He brought his head back to look at you and slowly raised one of your legs to wrap around his torso, all without breaking eye contact. With a nod and a slow, sensual kiss, George slowly pushed into you, supporting your head with his arm as you threw it back in pleasure. The feeling of his rock hard length pushing in and out of you at an insanely slow pace was driving you insane, the burning sensation making it feel like your world had just set fire. 

“Faster,” you begged, grasping a hand on one of George’s large, muscular shoulders. 

He did as you commanded, speeding up his movements. He set an above average pace, both of you on the verge of snapping from the mix of heat and pleasure the potion was providing, and his freckled features turned into such a beautifully nasty expression that it should be either framed or illegal. George looked too good all riled up and sweaty, you admitted to yourself.

Before you knew it, the two of you were reaching your brink. George picked up the pace, pounding you into the mattress so hard you were surprised it hadn’t given out under you. He reached his free hand down to toy with your clit more, hoping to speed up and intensify the impending feeling about to wash over you. Together, the two of you released all the tension that had been building up since you began loving each other, and it all washed over you in such an intense and intimate wave. You couldn’t have asked for anything better, because you had it all. The beautiful man that laid on top of you, feeling completely worn out and boneless, was everything you knew he was, and even maybe a bit more. He was as perfect as a man could be, and the best part is that he adored you somehow even more than you adored him. The love and care you had for each other matched no other. You knew after this there was no going back, but you were okay with that, because you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[suiseisyojo]

please give me all your love

「riddle rosehearts, lilia vanrouge, vil schoenheit x gn!reader」 ↳ in which you accidentally drink a love potion and fall for the one who's always harbored unrequited feelings for you. [part 2 here] cw: angst, suggestive themes (all)

[riddle rosehearts]

You two were childhood friends and Riddle’s been in love with you ever since he could remember; it was ironic, truly, that after consuming a love potion, he was the first person you sought out. Trusting in his judgment to know what to do under these circumstances. Didn't you know that the potion would make you fall for him? How could you be so utterly reckless?

Everyone at Heartslabyul already knew of the Housewarden's surreptitious soft-spot for you in spite of his objections to it. You always obeyed the rules, following them to the best of your ability—even when you were frustrated with them, all because, "I like the Queen of Hearts, too♪".

But Riddle's feelings blossomed much sooner than that. When you'd write him letters under the guise of educational tips with a secret code hidden inside so that his mother wouldn't be overly suspicious. When you'd taken him gently by the hand, holding onto him with such strength, as if you were afraid he'd slip from your fingers, and told him, "I like being your friend, Riddle. You're super smart, and you always let me be myself! You're the only one who can do that for me!".

Which is why it hurt when he felt your arms wrap around him, hands lingering around his waist in an intimate way you'd never do with a friend. Words of praise and adulation left your mouth, dripping like a sickening honey. "I love you, Riddle. You're so cute when you blush⋯ Hey, we've been together all this time, we should stay together forever⋯"

“[Name], d-don’t kiss there; that’s inappropriate⋯!”

With your body pressed tautly against his back as his arms carried you back to your dorm, Riddle felt your lips press quick, feverish kisses along the nape of his neck; the sensation evoking goosebumps to cascade across his sensitive skin as frissons of heat rippled down the column of his spine.

The dulcet sound of your sweet, breathless giggles filled his ears as you suppressed the compulsion to smother his skin in your kisses. And Riddle couldn’t help but recollect the copious times as kids he was left to your whims, incapable of doing anything but following along.

“We’re not children anymore, if it’s carrying you like this, I can handle it,” Riddle retorted curtly. It was frustrating when you refused to listen to his scoldings, especially in this situation where your mind was rapt with fabricated affection. “⋯ Hah, they’re not listening anymore.”

Riddle entered within your room, setting you down onto the bed with the utmost caution. Left in his care, you were peering up at him with pleading, dewy eyes; and he heaved a sigh in response. “You’ll kick up a fuss if I leave, so I’ll stay. But you’re not to leave the room until the potion wears off, got it?”

As you nodded your head, Riddle went to whirl around on his heel and head over to your desk when you abruptly entwined your arms around his neck and tugged him down—your lips meeting his. “Mmph! [Name], what are you⋯?!” Riddle breathed out, tinctures of desperation and panic heady in his voice, before he felt you press another kiss against him.

You pulled him into you further, allowing his weight to descend overtop of you as you hopelessly deepened the kiss. Deeper, deeper; you pressed him into you despite his protests.

“——You’re a cruel person, [Name]! Do you even know how much I love⋯” Cutting himself off tersely, Riddle seized your shoulders and pushed you back away from him as he swiftly stood up.

Vexation was acrid on Riddle’s tongue as he was maddened with your naivety, your thoughtlessness, and he gritted his teeth together and snapped at you, “Stay in bed. If you come any closer to me, it’s off with your head, you understand right?”

The feel of your lips sunk into his rapid pulse, permeating a warmth that ached—but the thought of experiencing it again was nothing more than an unimaginable wonderland.

[lilia vanrouge]

Lilia never expected you to return his love—he truly felt content in how your relationship currently was; doting on you whenever you were overburdened by the bits and pieces of life’s difficulties and were in need of a little spoiling⋯ in need of him and the advice he can offer.

That's why, when Lilia had heard you’d drinken a love potion, he was quick to be at your side. He couldn’t let anyone take advantage of you, could he? He always, perpetually, looked after you! As soon as he questioned how you were doing, he found you suddenly clinging on him; and that’s when he realized what was going on. The love potion had made you fall in love with him.

"Lilia-san, my chest hurts. It's overflowing because of you!" The darling words spilled from your lips as you enveloped him in your arms, taking hold of him like he was your everything.

Soothing hands cascaded through your hair, ameliorating your fear towards the inundation of new feelings. Lilia was here, as he always was, soothing you; taking care of you.

“You’re eager, little one. But you shouldn’t be doing this,” Lilia’s low, modulated voice whispered against your ear with an almost teasing lilt as you squirmed in his lap; yearning for his hands on you. “⋯ Why? Because this isn’t how you truly feel. It’s just the effects of the potion you drank.”

Lilia’s lithe fingers brushed away strands of your hair from sticking to your face, luxuriating in how your body flushed from his simple, yet loving, actions. You were too adorable like this, pliable and receptive to his every movement in a way he’d never seen from you before.

Rubbing your cheek against his, you smoothed your hand over his chest and tapped the tips of your fingers along with the beat of his heart; his heart that thumped and thumped in its socket, thrumming warmth along his body.

“Fine, just a little. I’ll give you some love♪”

Planting feathery kisses into the crook of your neck, Lilia placed a hand on your back as he massaged languid, affectionate circles into you. He could feel your body begin to tremble as a smile curved on your lips, reveling in how he was finally showering you in his love.

Lilia never considered himself a selfish person—he always took your feelings into consideration when he interacted with you, keeping you at arm’s length with his scares and equally inane pranks.

But as he held you, he felt a greedy vine slither between and around his ribcage; encasing his heart with thorns that perforated his resolve, letting his forbidden devotion leak out. The desperate, unending need to have you be his in a way unlike before.

“Are you satisfied yet?” Lilia asked softly as he removed his lips from your neck, your supple skin that shimmered from the saliva left behind. A slow, deep corruption until the potion wears off and you can never return. “No? My my, you’re almost as greedy as me, little one.”

[vil schoenheit]

At first, Vil was furious with you—how could you be so ignorant and stupid as to drink a potion without knowing what it’ll do to you? That was⋯ until the person whose affections you were sworn to have was him.

Hearts rose from the depths of your eyes, illuminating your innocence. You followed him everywhere, desperate for just a glimpse at the man who swallowed your mind whole. "Vil-san, you're perfect. You’re all I can see and feel."

Vil had always knew you didn’t love him in the way he loved you. Yet, still, he was persistent in attaining your love. One day, you’d be his; and he’d never give up on it. The graceful and talented one who wove him the finest outfits with all your skills and devotion. The one who sits through lectures and lessons out of reverence in order to cultivate your knowledge on fashion and beauty. Never cutting any corners.

He’ll “eat” up the you who’s drowning in forbidden love for him and melt it into reality, make it come true; as if the effects of the love potion were simply your feelings since the start.

A silky, lustrous mouth sucked on your ear, leaving a thin trail of saliva connecting your sensible lobe to his painted lips. In each teardrop clinging to your lashes, Vil could see your need for him—and it only exacerbated the unabating longing in his chest.

Vil’s slender finger traced along your jawline, tilting your head upwards to gaze upon his impassioned countenance. “Simply perfect. With your lips trembling, breaths thickening⋯ you’re like a ripe fruit. It’s divine,” he praised you, haughty and amorous. “No matter how embarrassing it is, this is who you are.”

Being the one to bring you such heights of beauty and pleasure, Vil was beyond pleased with your quivering body laid beneath him on his bed. His hands moved across your body with such a precision of ardency, it was ethereal. It made you feel hot, needy.

Vil brought his lips down to your exposed collarbone, nibbling at the skin; a sweet scent rose from your heated flesh, letting him suck on the honey-like essence. “Look over there, my doll, in that mirror,” he instructed you, nails digging into your thigh as you obediently did as you were told.

However, upon seeing the silhouette of your own body shaking from your gratification, you squeezed your eyes shut. “Hey, don’t look away. This is what you wanted, right? To receive all my love like this⋯ am I wrong?” A wicked laugh bubbled on his lips, his lips that were still pressed against your clavicle, and the motion magnified his kisses.

Now that he’s gotten a taste, Vil would stop at nothing to continue to devour you—he wanted this sight of you all to himself a little longer. Even if all that reflected in your glossy eyes were nothing more than a sweet lie.

“The ‘you’ who doesn’t hold back in your desires is the most beautiful of them all.”

[starlitsawamura]

◟♡ ˒ NICOTINE ! synopsis : one night you and your college roommate, mina, go out to a club and meet up with some of her highschool friends. one happens to be the hottest mf you’ve ever laid eyes on. inspired by this fan art.

pairing : fem!reader x tattoo artist!katsuki bakugo. content warnings : consumption of alcohol & nicotine, an annoying man (what’s new?). reader is called: sugar and sweetheart. eighteen plus only. word count : 1.6k

author’s note : it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written and idk how good this is. but i was vibing with it, so i hope you enjoy!

The club Mina had chosen for the night was loud, crowded, and hot. Dozens of beautiful women in skin-tight dresses, you included. The two of you had successfully made it into the club, but getting a drink was proving to be harder. If the bartenders weren’t already busy making drinks, they were tending to people who had walked up before you.

Mina had her back to the bar, elbows up on it to balance herself. She’d mentioned to you that she had invited a couple of friends from when she’d been in high school. This would be the first time meeting friends from Mina’s past because you hadn’t met Mina herself until college.

“Girl I gotta piss, will you order for us?” You tilt your head towards Mina.

She nodded, turning to face the bar as you gave a curt wave on your way toward the bathrooms.

You had to squeeze through the crowd, being hyper-vigilant about touching only forearms if you had to and being careful not to be touched.

You could feel the bass reverberate through your bones, making your heart pulsate in your chest. It even made the tips of your fingers numb. You had to shake them before gripping the cold metal handle of the door.

“Hey sugar,” a guy crosses your path, putting his hand over yours.

Immediate nauseated reaction to him getting in your way.

“Unless you want me to vomit all over you, you’re gonna get out of my way.” Your voice was laced with irritation.

He chuckled awkwardly, presumably from what you said to him. But he still didn’t move.

“Now that’s no way to talk to a nice guy.”

“I call bullshit.”

His face contorted, already ugly, yet somehow became even uglier. “Listen you bitc—”

“That’s enough.”

His voice made the air on your arms stand up. It seeped into your veins, your brain slowly growing drunk off the cadence and timber it had.

The man in your way quickly dropped his hand and moved away from you, bowing his head as he made his swift exit.

Part of you was scared to turn around and see who it was that saved your ass just now, even if you’d adamantly disagree that you needed saving. You gripped the handle harder and looked over your shoulder.

He was tall, with spiky blonde hair. His eyes were blood red, looking right through your invisible barrier. His gaze made your heart drop right to your fucking pussy. He was wearing a dark red button-up shirt with the top four buttons undone, and several inked designs on display. His ears were adorned with many piercings, along with his two lip rings.

You had never in your life laid eyes on a man so attractive. The way he was standing with his hands in his pockets, towering over you. It was as if he held the presence of a deity.

You cleared your throat, bowing your head a little bit. “Uhm thanks.”

“No problem.”

You just stood there, staring at each other for a few seconds, before the corner of his lips turned up into a smirk.

“Weren’t you preoccupied?” He mused.

Your face grew hot, pursing your lips as you quickly pulled the door open and stepped into the bathroom.

You thanked every god that it was empty and then cursed every god for letting you make a fool out of yourself. You were still having the hardest time coming to terms with the man you just laid eyes on. You silently screamed into your palms as you leaned against the door. You let out a quiet, yet dramatic sob.

You quickly did your business, washing your hands and pressing the leftover droplets of water on your forehead and cheeks. You needed a reset after that.

On your way out, you caught sight of Mina. Standing a few paces from the bathroom, talking to the man who had come to your rescue. Your drinks were in her hands, so you knew you had to go over there no matter what.

But he wasn’t by himself, aside from Mina, there were two other guys beside him. One with red hair and another with yellow.

Mina caught sight of you, handing you your drink when you got close enough.

“This is the friend I told you guys about. We’re roommates right now. I adore her.” She enthusiastically introduced you to all of them.

“Hey, I’m y/n.” You held your empty hand out towards the blonde.

His hand was big, and could easily wrap around your throat, or grab a handful of ass. But you tried your best to not let that train of thought drive fully at the station.

He was smirking again. “Katsuki. It’s nice to know your name, sweetheart.”

“Likewise,” you squeezed his hand and then kept eye contact with him as you slowly pulled your hand from his.

You watched the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple, his eyes staying on yours while you both took a sip of your drinks.

The air crackled like a live wire between you and Katsuki. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the little smile on Mina’s face as she pretended not to notice said vibe. But that just made it clear to you that she’d had this game plan in mind from the very beginning.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna go outside and get some fresh air because it is hot as fuck in here.” You hurried out a side door to an enclosed smoking area the second it left your mouth.

You take your drink with you, gulping some down once the cool night breeze kisses your bare skin. There’s no one outside with you so you take the chance to close your eyes and breathe. The way Katsuki’s eyes bore into yours, burning a path straight to your heart, making it hammer against your ribcage—had you almost gasping for air. You came out to get fucked up and have fun and then have no recollection of any of it the following morning. But now you wanted to stay sober and flirt with a man who could definitely throw you around.

You heard the door open and close and then there was a body beside you, also leaning against the cool exterior of the club.

There was a click and flicker of a flame, Katsuki lighting a cigarette. You listened to him take a drag and then opened your eyes.

“Mina said she was gonna come check on you but I offered instead.” He held out his cigarette to you but you shook your head.

You pushed off the side of the building and moved to the metal railing across from him, using one hand to balance as you leaned against it. In dimly lit space, his jewelry still glimmered, reflecting the light from his cigarette. Anytime he’d wet his lips, you caught a peek of his tongue piercing and that left plenty to the imagination.

“Well thank you for checking on me.”

Katsuki nodded, taking all of you in on his own. You were exquisite, ravishing even, in the small dress you had on. He could tell you were catching the vibe and it only made him want more. He wanted to devour you—as many times as you’d let him.

He didn’t even finish his cigarette before he was flicking it to the ground and stamping it out. He moved closer, taking your drink from you and placing it on an empty table. Both hands placed on the railing on either side of you, he leaned in, head tilted down to maintain eye contact. The heat that rolled off him was seeping into your skin, making your veins burn. His nose brushed yours and you could feel each other’s breath.

You brought a hand up to his chest, mindlessly tracing the smooth black lines peeking out from under his shirt.

Katsuki brought a hand up to your neck, tilting your jaw up with his thumb. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded with a breathless, yes, fisting your hands in his shirt to pull him closer.

His lips were soft against yours and his fingers got tangled in your hair. He was hungry and you were the only thing that could satiate him, of that he was positive. Your body fit flawlessly against his. Something about you had him so intrigued and he wasn’t sure if it was the attitude and confidence he’d seen when you interacted with the idiot from before, or if it was the taste of cherry liquor on your tongue. Or how hungry you were for him as well.

Katsuki wanted to take you home, his or yours, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be in bed with you and he’d take anything you were willing to give him.

You had to gasp for air between kisses, positive that your lips would be swollen or even bruised after this encounter. But you didn’t care because were drinking him in like it was your dying wish and he was letting you. He pulled you in, impossibly close, peppering kisses across your jawline and down your neck. He couldn’t help it, plus he got to commit all your little noises to memory. They egged him on to nibble at the hot skin of your neck, before moving back up to your eagerly awaiting mouth.

Katsuki kissed you so hard it knocked the wind out of you, and himself too.

He took a step back, hand covering his face to hide the growing redness on his cheeks.

“Sorry, I got a little intense there.”

You took a moment to catch your breath, also quite flustered, “I liked it.”

Katsuki dropped his hand and looked back at you. “I’d like to take you home with me, if you’re down of course.”

You knew he would absolutely ruin you and you were absolutely down.

© starlitsawamura ! do not repost outside of tumblr. do not steal or translate my work. for the love of all things unholy, do not share my work on tiktok or wattpad.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

HOW COME?

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: you go to the Joke shop and take a look around, not realising one of the owners watching you the whole time Warnings: none?

the shop was filled with kids and their parents, looking at everything that piled the shelves, kids wanting to buy everything and the parents shaking their heads at them. you managed to squeeze through and get some room to breath

they'd only been open for a week and it was this packed, it was an understatement to call this shop a hit.

the fluorescent colours were blinding you as you turned to see a boy, his face turning green with his mum by his side.

you looked around, smiling at every item you see. not knowing you were being watched from the second story of the shop.

you always knew the twins were gonna open a joke shop, but now that you're in it, reality hit you, they had really made their dreams come true. and they were successful.

you were friends of theirs, sort of- you weren't in their group but you three definitely talked quite a bit. if there was a project for potions- they would ask for your help and if you were paired up in transfiguration they would do their part.

you made your way over to the area that was glowing with pink and saw a large stand in the shape of flowers, glowing pink and creating little heart bubbles, it made you smile.

you picked up one of the bottles and read the label. you shook your head with a slight laugh as you read love potion in a pretty font.

"I'll give you a discount for that if you want" you heard his voice from behind you

you turned to see Fred with a smile on his face

"but, then again, it would be a useless purchase" he smirked at you, stepping closer, looking down at you

"how come? do they not work?" you asked curiously

"oh they work perfectly, but you're not gonna need it" he shook his head ammused

"and why is that?" you questioned, tilting your head

truth be told, you always had feelings for the boy, he ticked all your boxes. funny, loyal, tall, confident, passionate and witty.

but he was just so popular and almost every girl you know was swoon over him

"why try to use something when it's already worked without it?" he chuckled.

Fred would be an idiot to deny his feelings for you. he never would've told you this in Hogwarts, he never would've been this straight forward with you about this before, because even THE popular Fred Weasley was self-conscious sometimes.

he sometimes just looked at you and felt as though he wasn't enough, that he couldn't give you what you deserved

but now he was a successful business man, making big bucks. when he saw you enter the shop 10 minutes ago, he knew what he had to do, he knew he could give you anything your heart desired, if you'll have him

"how so? last time i checked I've had no guy chase after me" you laughed, putting the bottle down beside you on the flower stand.

you raised your eyebrows at him, waiting for his response

"who knows, maybe he hasn't been around you for a while, maybe he was waiting for you to come to him" he shrugged confidently.

you knew what he meant, he never failed to make flirtatious comments, so you brushed it off, even though the butterflies made their way to your stomach.

"and who might this young man be? I should probably go find him, I wouldn't want to keep him waiting" you smiled coyly

"I can't remember his name, but I can describe him for you, maybe tell you were he is" he smirked, leaning down

"do tell" you leaned in too, eager to continue and get to the point

"well I heard he has red hair, he's pretty tall too, I heard he's 6'3. he's pretty handsome too, I think you'll like him, he comes from a pretty big family, and I'm pretty sure I see him in the shop everyday" he informed you cheekily

"wow, I never knew George felt that way about me, I should probably go find him" you snickered, looking at his annoyed face. you were only teasing.

"George? that doesn't seem to ring a bell, I'm pretty sure his name started with an F" he rubbed his chin, looking deep in fake thought

"wow" you gasped "you're not implying what I think you are, are you Fred?" you gasp in faux shock

"Fred! that's his name, he sounds dreamy, doesn't he?" he clicked his fingers

"you should see him in person" you chuckled, his smirk dropped and instead, a small smile made it's way onto his lips

"maybe you should go and ask him out, I heard his favourite place is the three broomsticks" he replied joyfully

you hummed, thinking for a second "nah, I'll let him ask me since he's so in love with me"

"I don't know, he might be nervous" he tilted his head

"then you should go tell him he has nothing to be nervous about" you leaned in and whispered to him, as if it was a secret. he smiled and looked at the ground, his tongue running along his upper teeth, tapping the wood of the floor with his boot

"will do" he answered, a sweet grin on his face

"you stay right here, I think I just saw him" he pat your shoulder, stepping away from you before coming back a few seconds later

"hello there" he said happily

"hello Fred, fancy seeing you here!" you beamed

"I know, I thought I'd pop in and see how successful the shop is" he looked around, motioning to all the chaos, making you shake your head in amusement

"it's incredible isn't it? I must say I'm very proud of the two" your comment made him blush slightly, and you could tell it caught him a bit off guard

"so, I don't know if you know this but some handsome young bloke came up to me just then and said you would go on a date with me" he responded

"only if you asked" you blinked

"well then, how would you like to go the three broomsticks with me this weekend, Saturday maybe?" he asked you

"your favourite right?" you raised your eyebrows

he gasped "how'd you know?" he placed a hand over his heart

"lucky guess" you giggled

"so what do you say? will you go out on a date with me? a successful businessman, who is -said to be- very attractive" he question sheepishly

"Saturday?" you asked "I don't know I might be busy-"

"-Sunday?" he cut you off

"I was kidding, Saturday sounds perfect" you grinned up at him

"great, perfect. Meet me here at 11- in the morning, or night, is night better?" he rambled quietly

"11 at night? bit late don't you think?" you questioned

"right yeah, morning is more reasonable" he nodded

"well th-" he started but got cut off by George

"-Fred, I need help!"

Fred looked back at his twin and back at you, sparing a kiss to your cheek

"see you then, Love" he winked before rushing to George

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

[absurd-ash]

Hi I have a request! How about a love potion one shot or head canon with lmk Macaque and fem (s/o)? Please and thank u 🙏🏻

Love Potion Headcanons

{Macaque x FemReader}

I don't even know how this man got his hands on a love potion, but once he does, uh, watch out, 'cause this guy is all over you.

I don't mean in a physical way, no, he only touches you to show his affection if he knows for a fact that your love language is physical touch

And even if thats the case, it's only small touches, he was never much of a touchy person after all, even with the love potion. The touches are like side hugs, bumping shoulders together, and touching your cheek with his tail

No, I mean that this man is all over you by showering you head to toe in compliments and flirts

You can bet his dramatic ass is spewing out cheesy yet romantic flirts every chance he gets

"If I had a star for every time you brightened up my day, I would have a galaxy in my hands~"

If he ever makes you blush, this man has the smuggest smirk ever

"Awww, did I make you blush Princess~?"

And then he would continue to flirt with you, desperately needing to see you'r flustered face

Even with the love potion, he isn't the best with expressing his feelings, so instead, he shows you that he cares by being with you 24-7

wherever you go, he follows

You going to the kitchen to get some water? He's right behind you, maybe he'll even help you get a cup from a high shelf

You wanting to go out shopping or to eat dinner? Again, right behind you. He couldn't possibly let you go outside on your own, there's dangerous people out there after all

You needing to go to the bathroom? Of course he won't go in there with you. But he would definitely be sitting outside the door, like a puppy waiting for their owner to come home.

He would 24-7 have his tail wrapped around you waist, tugging you closer to him whenever you went just a bit too far from him

Whenever someone got just a bit too close to you, (especially SWK), Macaque would drape his arm across your shoulders, glaring at whoever you were talking too

Speaking of Wukong, he absolutely hates just the thought of you in the same room as SWK

Would absolutely just shadow portal you away from Wukong and into your home or his dojo

"Uh, princess? You mind telling me what the fuck that was for, huh?"

He absolutely took that personally, as if you had meant to insult him or something

Afterward, he dragged you over to your couch, as well as getting his shadow clones to get several pillows and blankets so he can make a nest-like area on the couch that you two cuddled in for the rest of the day, refusing to let you leave from his grasp

"Macaque, let me go! I have to get stuff done!"

"No can do Princess, your stuck here with me."

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

First request done! Hoped you like it! :D

-Ash

[writingmuses]

Love Potion 

Request: Based on a request for an IC x Reader, either a sex pollen fic or a magic potion fic (I may or may not do a sex pollen fic in the future 👀)

Elain x Reader, Nessian X Reader, Azriel x Reader, some mentions of Lucien X Reader (maybe I’ll do a prequel?) → a little bit for everyone. 

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, minors do not engage. Self-pleasure, fingering, grinding, breast play, p in v, biting, mentions of being under the influence. 100% consensual. ANGST.

Use of she/her for the reader. The reader is Rhy’s sister. 

Literal Porn with plot for the sake of porn but there is a lot of potential angst to turn this into an actual fic if anyone's interested by the end (so much drama to unpack). 

Synopsis: Reader accidentally drinks a love potion.  As desire courses through Y/Ns veins, and her inhibitions lower, she encounters the different members of the Inner Court.

Word count: 15.7K (WHOOPS)

-MOR-

“What is it?” Mor asks, gently tapping on the side of the glass pitcher. She brings her hands to her knees and lowers herself down to eye level with the fluid inside. She watches the plum-coloured liquid swirl within the glass, glimmering with tiny flecks of gold, dancing around one another to music that does not exist, suspended in infinite motion. 

She must admit that it is beautiful. That, however,  just makes her all the more suspicious. Mor blows an annoying stray curl out of her face and swivels to meet her cousin’s eyes. Rhysand’s violet gaze is clouded and dark, full of irritation. That means, Mor notes, that her dearest cousin is already aware of what’s inside the pitcher that has been gifted to her High Lady. 

“Yes, Lucien, do indulge my cousin and tell everyone about the swill you have brought into my home," Rhys voice clips. Lucien had arrived at the River House mere minutes ago, holding a large oak tray. On that tray sat the pitcher containing the mystery liquid, one ridiculously bejewelled challis, a single red rose, and, a note addressed to the High Lady:

Dearest Feyre,

I hope you are well and safe.

I apologize for my dismissal of your title as High Lady earlier this year. You are more worthy than any other female I have come across in my many centuries. 

I understand now that you would make a wondrous High Lady in any court. 

I am sending this note with Lucien along with my finest tea as a token of peace and as a toast to you in your new role. I would love for you to sample the wine and write me back letting me know how it made you feel. 

Please do not tell Rhysand of my gift to you, for I fear he would not understand this gesture between friends. 

I count the seconds to your reply.

All my love, 

Tamlin 

Lucien is quite pale. His normally bronzed skin looks ashy and his eyes are sullen. “Rhys… I-I know what you must be thinking.” The male clears his throat, worrying his bottom lip,“I’m sure he just wasn’t in his right mind - or maybe he didn’t know the properties of the liquid. Tam-” 

Darkness begins to creep out from behind Rhys, his face stony.“Do not mention that name in my house right now, Lucien. I have half a mind to winnow over to Spring and gut the coward where he stands.” Rhys holds the note in his hands and quickly crumples it into a tight ball. “Do not make excuses for that vile creature.” His eyes burn with fury as he sends the balled up note careening through the air, and right into the roaring fireplace.

Almost all of the inner court was gathered around the two males, standing tense and mystified at this interaction. Everyone is dressed in fine clothes and gathered at the River house for family dinner. “I’m confused,” Mor queries again, “Rhys, please tell us what is happening?” 

Feyre approaches her mate, resting a gentle hand on his bicep. He turns to look at her. Their eyes locked in a way only a pair of mates could. The two converse internally, and after a moment, Feyre gasps aloud. “A love potion? Rhys, truly?” 

“What the fuck?” Cassian chimes in, brows furrowed, attention turning to the ginger male. “Why the fuck would you bring this to us,” Cassian takes a lumbering step towards Lucien. Mor takes a step forward as well, gripping the General's arm, not in the mood to have dinner ruined just yet.  “Were you in on it?” Cassian barks to the son of Autumn.

“Cauldron no!” Lucien slinks back a step, eyes glued to his worn leather boots, trying to dissipate some of the tension in the room. “I brought it here to show you that Tamlin is desperate - and not above resorting to such vile means.” He clears his throat and looks up to Feyre, a small, apologetic smile on his lips. “I brought this here to warn you that Tamlin will likely try again and that you need to be on your guard.” 

It is Mor now, who takes another step forward, rage simmering beneath her skin. “Likely story you prick. I’ll-” she starts, but she is cut off by a hand on her shoulder. The High Lady had made her way over to Mor, now gripping her shoulder with a delicate hand. 

“He’s telling the truth,” Feyre concludes. She eyes Rhys, another one of their private discussions taking place within the confines of their own minds. “Lucien showed us.” 

“Feyre darling is correct," Rhys sighs, "Our dear friend Lucien here, while foolish - meant well.” the anger in his eyes disperses as Rhys nods a brief thanks to the ginger fae. “Besides,” he ponders, “ this love potion would have no ill effect on our dear High Lady.” 

“Now how’d you figure that Rhys?” Mor raises a brow at her cousin. 

“Because the High Dunce of Spring still believes I have Feyre under my evil spell.” Rhys wiggles his fingers at his mate, dry humour dancing in his eyes. “You see, the particular love potion good ol Tam picked out is called Affectus Revelare, also known as Feelings Revealed." Rhys gestures at the pitcher. "The potion itself is quite rare and rather ancient even by fae standards, which is why I'm not surprised none of you recognized it. Even you Az.” Rhys nods to the shadow singer in the corner. Azriel, who prides himself on his diverse knowledge of poisons, spells and potions, nods in thanks, upset with himself for not having been able to place the potion immediately. 

“I think I've heard of it,” Mor muses, all eyes on her now. “It works to remove inhibition. To allow those who drink it to reveal their true feelings? It is strong, and able to cut through most other potions or spells. Which is probably why Tamlin selected it." Her cousin nods in agreement. She continues, "However, to my knowledge, it went out of favour a long time ago because of the side effects.” She turns back to her cousin and he nods in agreement. 

“What side effects?” Cassian asks. 

“Think of it as a magic truth serum. However, this truth serum removes  any suppression of morals and makes its drinker uncontrollably horny.” Rhys says in a strained voice. “Unstoppably so. The only way to get the urges to dissipate is to have a way with the object of the drinker’s strongest affections.”

The jaws around the room hang low. Cassian lets out a startled cough. Azriel is the first to recover from the uncomfortable silence, his shadows flying around his head as he quickly mutters to them. Some of his shadows disappear into thin air, Mor assumes they are presumably off to keep further tabs on the High Lord of Spring.

“So Tamlin thought what? That I would drink this so-called love potion, break the “evil curse” you’ve trapped me under, again, and then come running back into his arms?” Feyre was full-on laughing now and it was contagious. She wiped her eyes as tears formed as she fought to control her deep belly laugh. 

“And right into his bed.” 

Rhys slings an arm around Feyre’s shoulder and starts to turn her away from Tamlin’s ‘gift’. He kissed the top of her head, a signature smirk returning to his face. His eyes were clear and bright once again. “All that potion would have done is make you find me even more irresistible than I already am," he coos. 

“I don’t know how that could be possible.” 

“Oh Feyre darling, please, we have company.” Rhys groans and nuzzles deeply into his High Lady’s neck, laying kiss after kiss along her pulse point. He pulls his lips from her neck with great effort, and only after poor innocent Elain clears her throat uncomfortably. “Let’s bring this up to the House of Wind for now, we can further investigate the source of this potion tomorrow. I would be very interested to find out where Tamlin was able to source such a thing.” He nods to Cassian who scoops up the tray and heads towards the door. “Everyone meet back here for dinner in 10.” 

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

-CASSIAN-

“I’ll drop this off, I need to pick up Nes anyways. I’ll be right back.” Cassian walks out the door and spreads his wings wide. With powerful strokes, he is up and into the air. In a few short minutes, he touches down on the stone balcony of the House of Wind. Not a single drop of the potion has spilled, and he smiles triumphantly. Nesta sits at the table, a smutty romance novel gripped in her hands. She looks up at him with a smile but worry quickly crosses her face and her eyes drift to the tray in his hands. 

“Don’t worry Nes,” he reassures her. “I didn’t get you anything. This was a gift for your sister, I wouldn’t dream of such a sweeping gesture. I know that you much prefers other methods of celebration,” Cassian says with a wink.

“Who’s it from?” Nesta closes her book, and rises from the table. 

“From Tamlin, of all males.” He sets the tray down on the tabletop, the bejewelled challis rattling against the pitcher at the sudden movements.

“A gift? From Tamlin?” 

“It’s a long story. Let’s head down to dinner, I’ll tell you on the way.” With that, Cassian scoops his beautiful mate into his arms. Her arms lock around his neck as he shoots off into the sky and back towards the River House. The love potion left on the table to be dealt with tomorrow. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Y/N-

You winnow out of the sky a number of feet above the House of Wind and begin to make the unceremonious crash down to the balcony. You quickly generate a tiny cloud of sparkling night with a single thought to slow your descent.

I am so running late. 

You had been away in the Summer Court for three weeks visiting your dear friend, Tarquin. The High Lord of Summer and you had bonded over your shared love of the ocean, gossip and fruity drinks many decades ago. He now invited you every couple of months for a visit to his vacation villa, where you would swim, eat and share the juiciest, most jaw-dropping tidbits from your respective courts. You are the only one of the inner circle ever to be invited. This, of course, made Cassian infinitely jealous. 

You loved your visits with the High Lord of Summer. The weight on your shoulders would slip away, even if it was just for a few days and you would both be free of responsibilities. However, this visit had been mostly diplomatic and unfortunately, you had found yourself roped into weeks of dinners and meetings. Working on updating trade agreements between the courts, while important, had been dreadfully boring. So much so that as you had left, Tarquin made the promise that this trip didn’t count and that you would meet up again in two months' time for a redo.

You feel dead tired. What you truly need is a hot bath and good long sleep. But tonight is family dinner and you are excited to see everyone. No work talk, that would wait until tomorrow, but it was rare to have a moment where we were all together, wine flowing and laughs ringing through the River House. You wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

You pass into the dining room and drop your large satchel on the table beside one of Nesta's books. Beside her book, sat a pitcher of tea you assumed Nesta had made for herself during her afternoon reading session. You giggle at the rose laid out next to it. Nesta truly was a romantic at heart. You scoop it up and admired the luscious red of the petals. It was just like Nes to indulge herself in the finer things, especially amidst one of her reading frenzies. 

You twirled the delicate blossom in your hand and inhale the scent deeply, when suddenly you hiccup in pain. Looking down at your hand you realize one of the thorns had sliced your finger. You quickly drop the flower and bring your finger to your mouth, sucking the coppery drops of blood. The cut is shallow and heals instantly, the tiny pink scar disappearing right under your gaze. With the flower now forgotten, you turn your attention to the tea. 

You quickly scan the room, as if Nesta would appear out of thin air at any moment and berate you for taking what wasn’t yours. The thought made you let out a nervous chuckle. If Nes is putting out fancy flowers with her drink, then the tea she selected must be simply divine. 

Don’t mind if I do!

You grasp the gaudy bejewelled challis in one hand and picked up the crystal pitcher with the other. You pour yourself a large cup. As the liquid pours from one vessel to another, you can’t help but admire the way it sparkles and shimmers, almost like stardust suspended in liquid - not unlike your own magic. 

With a little cheers in the air, you take your first taste.

A low moan erupts from the back of your throat. Never have you tasted anything so divine. Hints of rose and lavender, honeysuckle and almond, rose and hibiscus. But also something deeper, and tangier, a musk of dark earth and fresh rain. It tasted of desire and warmth, of friction and longing. The flavour overwhelms your senses, and becomes all-encompassing. 

You take a second small sip. Another groan involuntarily passes your lips. 

Then a third and fourth sip, both larger, more eager.

You take a fifth, and down the rest of your cup.

Now, in a frenzy, you refill the challis and drain it all in one gulp. 

Again. And again. And again. It is as if you are in a trance, unable to stop yourself, needing to feel the sweet nectar pass your lips, and slide down your throat. The mesmerising liquid burns deliciously as you drink and drink and drink until the pitcher is empty. 

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. With the pitcher empty, your desire to consume was gone. Your hands shake as you place the challis and pitcher back onto the tray. Your memories of what has just transpired are hazy. In one breath all memory of drinking the tea was gone. In the next breath, you remember it is family dinner. You quickly grab your bag and shuffle up to your room. Throwing the bag into the corner, you turn to the mirror to address your appearance. The dress you don is a light sea foam green, a slit running all the way up to your hip bone, and a low V neckline descending down almost to your navel. As it was currently winter in Velaris, you would need to change into some warmer clothes. As you reach around to unclasp your dress, you are suddenly hit with an intense feeling of warmth. Your face flushes and in the mirror you see sweat form at your temples. It lasts only for a second before your temperature begins to regulates, but it was enough to convince you to stay in the cooler summer garment. I must just be tired. 

You head back out to the balcony ready to go meet your family. You leap off the ledge and as you enter a free fall, you sigh in relief, letting the chilled air cool you down as you let out a blissful sigh. You catch yourself on a cloud of starlight, pulling out of your free fall and making your way towards the River House. 

You land just outside the border of the River House. As you pass through the boundary and up the front steps you are hit again with another wave of heat. This time it is stronger. You brace yourself on the handrail. Did I spend too much time in the sun? you pondered, thinking back on your time in the Summer Court. You had not spent more time than usual. 

I must just be overtired from my long trip. Right as you reach this conclusion, the heat rapidly dissipates, returning your body to normal once again.

 There was no further time for contemplation as the front door swung open and Cassian comes into view. "Oh, mighty adventurer,” he mocks with a salute, “welcome home!” He bellows loudly. You jump up the last two steps and he immediately pulls you in for a deep hug. Your face buries into the side of his neck. You had missed him dearly while you were away, but of course, you would never tell him that. 

But, what starts as a friendly welcome home, quickly changes course. 

Suddenly, the smell of sandalwood and crackling embers surrounds you, invading all of your senses. This was Cassian’s scent, something you smelt daily for 400 years, and have never thought twice about. But now all of a sudden, he is the only thing you want to smell. You huff in his scent and feel your body warm and tingle.  What the hell? you cry internally. You know you should pull away. But instead, you have the irresistible urge to lick the thick, long column of his neck, and you nearly do. That’s not the only thing that’s long and thick I want to be licking, you muse, and your core throbs. You have no idea what is happening. Cassian, Cassian, Cassian your mind repeats over and over. Lick him, bite him, claim him. You bite your lips, teeth surely drawing blood. Anything to keep your mouth from latching onto him. You need him. You take a shuddering breath, his scent dancing in your lungs as you- 

You’re pulled out of your twisted mind as Cassian adds, “Now, get the fuck inside before you catch your death.”

 You quickly pull away from the General and look down. You had forgotten that you were still in your summer attire. An outfit that while gorgeous was not equipped to handle the Velaris winter you were currently experiencing. You risk a glance back up to Cassian, he smiles gesturing inside the house. Luckily he didn’t seem to notice the massive loss of judgement you had just experienced. You do not have feelings for Cassian. That much you know to be true, at least not anymore. Right? You reassure yourself once again that you must just be tired, that your brain was playing tricks. 

You shake your head to clear your thoughts as you step through the door. You failed to notice how Cassian’s nose flared as you passed him.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone greats you as you enter the dining room. Luckily, your head seems to remain on straight, as no further desire of Cassian clouds your brain. Your brother and his wife offer you both a quick hug, with the promise to debrief tomorrow, you all take your seat at the dinner table. You have strategically placed yourself as far from Cassian as possible, sandwiched in between Feyre and Mor. You hear the chair across from you slide out and you look up to meet the shadowsinger’s eyes as he slips into the chair. You had not seen him when you arrived. But now you see him - more clearly than ever before. 

He offers you a small smile. “How was your visit to Summer, Y/N?”

You don’t hear his question. You are too busy staring at his mouth. Plump lips, tinged slightly red from the cup of wine he’s been sipping out of. His tongue darts out, coating his lips in a glossy sheen. You wonder how those lips would feel against yours… against your breasts… against your core. You blink slowly, noticing his lips are still moving. Oh, the things those lips could do. Suddenly, you feel a hand squeeze your elbow. You yelp and turn to see Feyre grasping your arm. 

“Are you alright Y/N?” She frowns softly, concern dancing in her eyes. 

“P-perfectly” You mutter, blinking rapidly, looking anywhere but towards the shadowsinger. 

“Are you sure? Azriel’s been trying to talk to you for a good minute.” 

“J-just tired.” You assure them. “Think I spent too much time in the sun.” You raise your shoulders in a shrug, mumbling. 

“I’m relieved to hear you’re not intentionally ignoring me,” Azriel quips trying to meet your eye once again. 

“Never.” You say, still not meeting his eye, picking up your wine glass and drinking deeply. “Never.”

And it’s true. Normally, you would never ignore the shadowsinger. You had known him for over 400 years and loved him for 200. Being 80 years younger than your brother Rhys meant that you had grown up with the three of them as your primary moral figures. Rhys was your brother who acted like a father, Cassian your best friend, and Azriel your fiercest protector. And you loved them all for 200 years until something began to change. You had developed a crush on Cassian from an early age. With his broad and muscular chest, and his lushes locks, he sure knew how to make a female swoon. But he was your best friend, and that came first. Your bond with Azriel, now that was even more complicated. He had an uncanny way of being able to see you, to truly see all of you. You loved him as something more, something different than the infatuation you felt with Cass. You yearned for Azriel, and for a time you thought that maybe he desired you too. 

But nothing ever came of it. Maybe it was because he had watched you grow up? Or perhaps it was because you were Rhy’s little sister? You didn’t know. But you’ve been a grown female for four mortal life cycles, and both of those excuses didn’t hold any water as far as you were concerned. 

After 150 years of you pining away while he pined away for your cousin, you finally thought he was seeing you as you are, the female who could obliterate enemies with a thought, the female who held the court together while Rhys was under the mountain, the female who was not just her brother’s little sister, but an equal. 

Then the Archerons arrived. 

And you loved them all dearly. Feyre making your brother’s heart sing, Nesta having Cassian wrapped around her little finger, and Elain. Elain, who was a gentle breeze on a warm night. A breath of fresh air amidst the fog. Elain. Who was gorgeous and talented and funny. And while you may have thought those things, so did Azriel. You could only assume as he never did confide in you, but his glances lingered. Yours lingered as well, but more so in appreciation, in lust. Not in love as you suspected the shadowsinger’s did.

And there she was now, sitting beside Azriel, looking perfect as always. Hair smooth and glossy. Eyes big and bright, the richest, most delicious shade of brown you had ever seen. A long slender neck and cleavage that heaved tight against her bodice with each breath, as if her milky flesh was a moment away from bursting- 

The sound of breaking glass yanked you out of your lustful thoughts. You looked around for the source of the noise before you realize that it was you. Your wine glass once, in your hand was now in 100 pieces on the floor beside you, a small puddle of red wine at your feet. 

“Y/N/N are you alright?” Rhys had made his way towards you in the blink of an eye. He snapped his fingers and the glass, and the puddle of red disappeared. He leaned down to your height, pressing his palm to your forehead. “I think you might have a slight fever.” 

“I’m so sorry about the mess, I don’t know where my mind went!” Yes, you do. “ I think I must just be overtired.” You offer a tight smile.  “Too much sun.” you offer as an excuse. Yes, too much sun and now you’re a delirious fool. 

Rhys only nods fondly, “Maybe you should head to bed kiddo.” You’re so eager to get out of there that you don’t even snark back about him calling you a kid. 

“Good idea.” You raise from your chair, and you feel the arousal that had been unknowingly collecting at your core, begin to coat your thighs. You had to get out of there before you were scented. Family dinner nights meant everyone was staying at the River House. Luckily for you, that meant you didn’t have far to go. You turn and hightail it out of there, not noticing how the shadowsinger across from you holds his breath as you scurry away. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once you are up the stairs and out of sight, you kick off your shoes and run. You run down the hallway and around the corner to your chambers. You swing open the door and slam it shut behind you. Leaning against the wooden door, you take a shuddering breath. What is wrong with me? 

You were no stranger to love and lust. But you had never had quite such a visceral reaction. For so many different fae. At the same time. You are hot all over now and it is as if there is fire in your veins. Your breath is shaky. You need to get a grip. Blinking hard, you make your way to the washroom, and fill the tub with icy cold water. 

Your fingers grapple with the claps on the dress, fighting to release yourself. You give up, snapping your fingers, the dress disappearing, leaving you bare, and still burning. You sit at the edge of the tub before quickly sliding your feet below the surface. The shock of the cold hits your brain and for a moment you stop thinking. But it is not enough as you feel another wave of arousal dripping from your core. You know you are going to regret this, but you also don’t know what will happen next if you don’t. You take a deep breath and fully submerge your body. All you feel is cold. Alll you feel is ice. The fire under your skin tames. The lustful thoughts vanish. It is just you and the cold. Relief floods your bones as your face breaks the surface. 

You lean your head against the rim of the tub, happy to be rid of your dirtiest thoughts. You lay in the cold water until the warmth of your body has rendered it tepid. You finally feel in control of yourself again. You heave your relaxed body out of the tub and wrap yourself in a fluffy white towel. Tucking the ends under your armpit, you move back into your bed chamber. The towel drops to the floor as you walk up to your wardrobe and pull on a simple silk nightgown, as dark as the night sky, dressing cool to avoid any future heat spells, hopefully. 

You hastily scramble into bed and slide under your silk sheets. Exhaustion hitting you. You lay on your back, eyes closed as you slowly drift off to sleep. With not a single thought, your mind is finally quiet.

And then it’s back. 

Heart hammering, your eyes fly open. Searing heat spreads through your entire body. Heat radiates from your core all the way to your fingertips. Your desire is bruning you from the inside. The heat wants to be fed, wants to consume. 

Wants to be consumed. 

Is it that simple? you ask yourself. Would self-pleasure finally rid you of this torment? It had been a few weeks since you had last found release, the time spent in Summer Court kept you too busy for simple pleasure. But it was not like you had not gone this long before, in fact, you had gone much longer and never with any issue. You craved the touch of another, but you suppose your body will hardly care where the pleasure comes from. Your nipples harden at the very thought. Decision made. 

 Arousal is now weeping from your core as your thighs clench together. As if with minds of their own, your hands pull the sheets off your body, exposing your skin to the night air. Your nipples pebble even harder, straining deliciously against the silk of your nightgown. You palm one of your breasts, the action causing shockwaves of pleasure to roll through your body. 

Your other hand comes up and palms the other, a strangled moan leaving your lips. Your fingers dance along your left breast and encircle your nipple over the glossy material of your nightgown.  You were still too hot. You quickly pull the straps down your arms. As your nipples meet the cold air, you could weep with joy. Your hands, finally able to touch your bare skin ghost over the sensitive flesh before your fingers are quickly clamping around your left nipple in a tight pinch. Your thighs clench again, as your core pulses, as if with a heartbeat of its own. You give your nipple another delicious twirl. 

Your other hand travels down and down and down until it reaches the hem of your nightgown. Without a moment's hesitation, you pull the material up to your waist. Your arousal coats your thighs, as your hand move closer to your core, fingers disappearing between your legs. 

The moment your fingers touch your clit, your hips buck wildly, back straining off the bed. Your fingers swirl around it again and again and again, the friction causing strangled moans to escape your throat, hips thrusting up wildly. 

Your skin gleams in the moonlight, the heat building inside of you. Your eyes screw shut in pleasure. This time as your hand swirls around your clit, your other hand, still clinging to your breast, gives your nipple a sharp torturous twist. Pleasure and pain unite and suddenly you’re shaking as release barrels through you, your orgasm so intense your whole body shakes as you ride wave after wave of pleasure. 

As you come down from your high, your body trembles with exertion. 

But it is not enough.

Breathing deeply, your hand, now coated in your juices slides back down between your legs, and this time, you slide two fingers inside. You thrust in and out sharply. Setting a torturous pace and your fingers sink deep into your cunt, curling expertly inside you. In a matter of moments, you are overcome with another orgasm. Again and again and again, you work your body to climax.

It is never enough.

Your body gives out sometime between the eighth and tenth orgasm, releasing you into a dreamless sleep. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You awaken groggy, and unsure of your surroundings. The fog clears with a couple of blinks of your eyes and you realize you are in your bed at the River House. Looking down you see you are laid out, your nightgown askew and your thighs sticky.

And then it all comes flooding back. 

How you pleasured yourself over and over again, the pace never relenting, just like the hunger for release did not relent. You had fucked yourself into oblivion. 

But, it appears to have worked. Laying still you realise that your mind has returned to blissful silence once again. Finally free. No thoughts of lust or desire, just calm and slight confusion. Now more awake, you glance out the window and see that the moon is still high in the sky. It was late, but still a long way off until morning. 

Confusion still runs through your bones. The intense need you felt earlier had come on so fast and strong, a hurricane of arousal. But it appears that the skies have now cleared, feeling content and more like yourself you huff and slowly sit up. Your stomach growls painfully, starved from the exertion and the lack of dinner. You could also do with a wash. Food first, you decide. 

No one should be out and about the house at this hour, but just in case, you slip the nightgown over your head. The material is coated in your slick. Already ruined, you use the dress to clean up the arousal on your thighs. You refuse to think about how good the silken material feels against your inner thighs. You make your way to your dresser, and this time you pull out a pair of plain grey underwear and a long black t-shirt. The t-shirt fell down to your mid-thigh. 

You make your way to the door and pry it open slowly, so as not to wake anyone else. Elain also has a room in this wing, and she was a notoriously light sleeper. You begin to pad down the hallway lightly, the marble cold against your bare feet. You feel a cold breeze wafting down the hall. Someone must have forgotten to close the balcony doors, you think. But then again, who would have opened the windows in the middle of winter? Snow had yet to fall, but the cool winter air had definitely arrived. More alert, you slowly make your way towards the open balcony doors, arms close to your sides, fists clenched. 

Your arms lower immediately when you see who stands out on the balcony. You would recognize her shapely figure anywhere. 

Elain stands with her back to you. She is wearing a blush-coloured pair of wide-legged pyjama pants,a shawl embroidered with flowers covers her shoulders. Her hair is unbound and glows like individual strands of gold. You feel your stomach tighten. She looks beautiful. You shake your head, trying to rid it of any other thought beyond concern. You gently rap your knuckles on the doorframe. Elain, still not fully tuned in to her new fae senses, jumps and spins around quickly. Her hand comes up to clutch onto her heaving chest. You could see her breath slow when she sees who it is, hand falling back down to her side. 

You make eye contact with her, deep chestnut eyes meeting your own. And then her chest starts heaving again, and it takes all your strength to keep your eyes from wandering. You look up at the night sky instead.

“Elain, honey what are you doing out here, you’ll catch your death.” She looks at you nervously as you approach. Your feet tingle in protest at the cold stone beneath you. 

“Erm- nothing. I just needed some fresh air,” you reach for her hand. She laces her hand in yours, eyes squeezing shut, “and some quiet.” 

“But it is-” oh. Oh no. She had heard you. Your cheeks flush scarlett as you try to pull away. “Elain, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t realize I was so…” You trail off. Her hand tightens around yours, rooting you into place. Her fingers are frigid from being out here on the balcony for Cauldron knows how long. 

“Loud.” She finishes your sentence. “The walls are quite thin.”

“I am sorry Elain for disturbing your sleep. I’m not sure what has come over me. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Are you happy with yourself? Poor, delicate Elain was awoken by the sounds of you touching yourself. Poor, gorgeous Elain had to escape outside in order to avoid hearing the sounds you made. Poor, delicious Elain- and oh did she look delicious. She wore a thin white camisole underneath her shawl. She wore no bra underneath, her nipples rock hard from the biting winter air. Oh how much you wanted to devour her.

You freeze again and fight against your mind. Not again. Not now. But it is Elain’s next words that have your lustful thoughts winning once again. 

“I wasn’t sleeping.” Elain’s eyes met yours again, darker, more intense. “You, pleasured yourself for over 2 hours, did you know that?” Her sentence tumbled out. “Two hours without stop. Two hours of sheer pleasure.”

“Again, Elain I am so sorry but we should discuss this inside, we’ll catch our deaths out here”. You go to pull her along with you, back into the warmth of the hallway. She releases your hand.

“I never have, you know.” Her voice sounded far away now, mind far away.

“Never what Elain?”

“Never-” She trails off again. You finally catch on, and the fire within your belly reignites. 

“Never touched yourself?” She lets out a slight giggle at your question and looks down at her slipper-clad feet. 

“No, I’ve definitely tried to self-pleasure.” She shakes her head. “In fact I tried just tonight, listening to you.” It is your cheeks that burn red hot now. You swallow deeply at her confession. Did she touch herself to the sound of you? “But,” she continues, “I’ve never been able to make myself…reach completion. Never. I don’t know if there’s something wrong with me. I want to, gods do I want to. But, it just never happens.” Her voice shakes, and as she looks away again, you can see her eyes shining with tears. “I have been getting a lot closer with Lucien. I do think he is an honourable man.. Male, I mean. But I do not wish to saddle him with a mate who does not know what she is doing. He has lived centuries, and I do not even know how to please myself, never mind him.” 

“You do not owe him anything, you know? There is nothing wrong with you, and if he is truly a good male, then he will not be bothered by any experience you do or do not have. There is so much more to a relationship than sex.” She is one of the most perfect creatures in existence. That male should be so very lucky for dirt under her shoes never mind anything else. 

“I do know that. I do. But, I think this is something I have to do for myself first. Before I look towards a future with Lucien.” 

“What is it you need to do?” You lick your lips. 

“I want to feel good like you made yourself feel.” 

“Do you want me to make you feel good, Elain?” 

“I want you to make me feel alive.” 

And then she is vaulting towards you, hands grasping your shoulders, and then her lips are on yours. 

She tastes of jasmine and honey. A taste you never thought you would experience. But here she is, this perfect female, and Cauldron she was kissing you. Her plump, rosy lips are soft and firm. Her nails dig gently into your shoulders, and you can now smell her arousal, sharp and heady. Your core clenches in response. Your arms come around and encircle her waist, pulling her body tight against yours. You can feel her nipples against your own chest. She is freezing, and burning all at once. 

The kiss ends and she pulls her lips away. Foreheads pressed together she looks at you through her brows. Your eyes meet and understanding passes through you. Your heads give a little nod, and she nods her own in response. Your hand finds hers and you gently pull her over to the corner of the balcony, to a long chaise lounge, the cold forgotten. She sits gently, legs swinging up onto the chaise, head tilting back, exposing the pale tender flesh of her neck. Her shawl falls off her shoulders. You now stand at the edge of the chaise, eying her up and down. You can feel the desire within you trying to surge, to consume. But you reign it in. This is not about you. 

It is all about Elain.  ”Let me bring you back to life,” you say as you gently spread her legs, and crawl up in between them. You align yourself perfectly, foreheads touching once again. “If anything is too much El, you let me know.” She nods again and tilts her head until her lips meet yours. The second kiss is slower, and more passionate. Her lips part and your tongue slides in, dancing upon hers. 

After an eternity you separate, a thin trail of saliva connecting you. You pepper kisses to her cheek, her nose, and her chin, working your way down her throat until you arrive at the place just above her collarbone. Your lips clamp onto the sensitive flesh, and you hear Elain moan in response. It is music to your ears. As you lap at her neck, your fingers begin to trace down the length of her torso, eliciting sighs and pleasure. You run your fingertips gently down the valley between her breasts, down past her navel and along her hip bone, stopping at the hem of her camisole. Your mouth comes away and you make eye contact once again. Elain is in control, and you pause, waiting for her consent to continue. 

“Please.” Her breath is coming in quick pants as she begs. Your fingers grab the hem and Elain leans forward and lifts her arms. You make quick work of pulling it over her head, tossing it to the side. Her skin glows like the stars in the sky. Her large breasts are firm and aching to be touched.

Elain’s teeth clench at the exposure to the cold, but the moan that follows is enough to spur you on. Your mouth trails more kisses along her collarbone and down between her breasts. Elain’s hands wind into your hair, holding you close. You look up at her and wink, and then your lips enclose around one of her perfect, pert nipples. Elain lets out a breathy gasp at the sensation of your hot mouth upon her breast. Your tongue swirls around her peak, a chorus of gasps and moans spilling from Elain’s lips.

Your lips detach with a pop, and the cold air blows against the wet bud. Elain lets out another sharp gasp and she cries out “More. Cauldron please, more!” Her chest is heaving. One of your hands comes up and cups her other breast, and you slowly slink down the chaise. Your tongue trails against her skin as it follows the same path your fingers had made, down between her breasts, all the way down to her navel. Your tongue swirls around it, the thin trail of saliva igniting Elain’s skin despite the cold. You continue your path down until your lips reach the hem of her pants. You breathe deeply. “You smell so gods damned good El.” Her hands untangle from your hair and go to grab the hem of your shirt, you quickly stop her. “This isn’t for me El, this is all for you. Let me make you feel good.” Elain nods, briefly and her hands relent, moving up to cup her own breasts instead. You pull the tie on her pants gently and hook your thumbs into the waist. You see a patch of wetness on the crotch of her pants and your question is answered as you gently pull them down her legs. No panties. 

Her pants and slippers are now discarded and you take a moment to drink her in. She is exquisite. Her hair lays around her like a halo of gold. Her skin shines as bright as a star. Her hands work her supple breasts and her eyes are lidded and dark with desire. Your eyes skim lower, to her round hips, thick and shapely. And then your eyes fall to the patch of dark curls above her core, and then further still to the glistening arousal coating her thighs as she squeezes them together. 

You move up to capture her lips in yours once more before you drift lower again. Your hands grasp her thighs and you gently spread her legs. She is so beautiful. You bend her knees and they part, on either side of your head as your mouth approaches her sex. You blow a gentle breath across her clit, and you see her cunt pulse in response. “Gods, Y/N, please. Please!” 

Your hands wrap tighter around her thighs and you taste her. The salty taste of arousal pulls a groan out of your own throat. Your tongue circles her clit, and one of her hands finds your hair again, and her hips buck in response. Her thighs clamp around your head, as you suck her clit hard. You pull her even closer, your tongue travels lower, and traces around her opening, before diving in. Thrusting your tongue in and out of her core, she is moaning your name like a prayer, hips gyrating against your face, fucking your tongue deeper inside of her. She rides your tongue hard, in a state of euphoria. 

Breathless, you pull your mouth away and you move back up to her lips. “You taste divine.” You say simply and then your lips are on hers again, and she is moaning from the taste of her own slick upon your tongue. One of your hands smooths gentle circles against her cheek. “Still with me?” you ask. She nods and catches your lips again. Your hand trails down her side, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before drifting through the thick soft curls guarding her core. Your hand slips between her legs as your fingers circle her clit. A new wave of arousal drips from her cunt as your hand moves further down. You hold her gaze as your finger slowly enters her. Her teeth clamp onto her bottom lip and she groans. 

You start slow and quickly gain speed as her hips rock against your wrist. Meeting you thrust for thrust. You add a second finger and spread her deliciously. Fingers curl inside her, meeting the spongey flesh that makes Elain scream. 

“Oh, oh, gods, yes, yes,” you hear Elain gasp over and over again. You lower yourself back down as your other hand grips her pubic hair tight, your thumb goes to her clit, rubbing at a relentless pace and you watch her come undone. 

She screams in such pleasure, again and again, her core clenches around your soaked fingers. Her juices squirt and coat your t-shirt-covered chest. You continue to circle her clit, extending her orgasm as long as possible. She comes down from her high, her pants slowing, and you withdraw your hands. You lean up and capture her lips with yours once more. 

“Are you ok?” You ask. Looking into her eyes, you see they are alight with pleasure and joy. 

“What does this mean?” Elain worries her bottom lip. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything El. This was about you finding yourself through pleasure.”

“Gods, Y/N that was- that was perfect”. A smile now shines brightly upon her lips. “Thank you-” You cut off her thanks with another quick peck on her lips. 

“Do not thank me Elain Archeron. Thank yourself for deciding to put your body and your pleasure first. If anything I should be thanking you for allowing me to come along on this journey with you.” Her smile is mirrored on your own face. “Lucien is going to be a very lucky male, El. You are perfect in every way.” 

Sitting up now, she throws her arms around you, squeezing you tight. She pulls away and looks down at the dampness coating your shirt. “I was not aware women- I mean females could do such things.” She traces the dark stain slowly, running her fingers along the slopes of your breast. 

“Some do,” you confirm, “if encouraged enough. Everyone is different, and I know that if you decide to, Lucien will worship everything about you.” She smiles again and pulls you in for another hug. You knew that this was not the start of a fling or romance with Elain. But instead, it had been a self-awakening, and she had allowed you to lead her through it. You were beyond honoured to help. 

“But how do you know that he- Lucien will like it. Like me.” 

“I have a confession of my own El.” You clear your throat, praying to the cauldron you weren’t about to say the wrong thing. “Lucien and I are about the same age. When we were growing up, we met on occasion at different events, and quickly developed a rapport.”  Elain quirked a brow. “We, well, we fucked. A lot.” Elain’s jaw drops. Your core clenches at the memories. Lucien’s mouth on yours, on your cunt. His member thrusting in and out of you, sloppiness and uncertainty turned to precision and strength as the years went on. You fight to tamper the flames of arousal within yourself. This is not the time or place. “We were each other's firsts and we experimented over the years. But that was well over three and a half centuries before you were born. It was so long ago that I don’t want you to think anything of it! We are friends now, have been for the last 300 years, nothing more, I promise.” And it was true.. The memories you had made together, were definitely special, cherished, and enough to turn your crank some days, but the actual male, was your friend and was now mated to another. “What I am trying to say, is that I can guarantee that you are everything he will ever desire.”

“Me and Lucien both lost our virginity to the same female?” she questions finally. You nod, eying Elain again. Hoping beyond hope that she does not take the news badly. To your surprise, she begins to chuckle, which turns into a cackle, which turns into a full-body fit of laughter, and you find yourself joining in. You both laugh and laugh while holding each other close. Eventually the fit winds down and with a few last giggles, Elain sighs, “I’m not sure why, but it seems very fitting.” You hum in agreement.

Elain’s eyes drooped in relaxation and exhaustion and she lays her head on your shoulder. 

The next moments happen in a blur. You help her to her feet, gather her clothes and you both make the quick, and risky walk back into the hall and into her chambers. Luckily the hallway is empty. 

You sit her on the bed and start a fire. Heading to her bathing chamber, you wet a cloth with warm water. Returning to find Elain still perched on the edge of her bed, you gesture for her to lean back. She obliges and you begin to cleanse her skin gently. Nothing save for respect and adoration floats between you now. You tuck her naked body gently under the covers and kiss her forehead.  Swiping your thumb against her cheek you whisper softly, “Good night El. Sweet dreams.”

Her eyes crack open and you hear her mumble, “Are you sure you don’t want me to try-” 

 You shush her. “This was a big moment for you El. I expect nothing in return.” She smiles again deeply. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for helping me find myself.” With that, Elain drifts off to sleep and you head out the door and back to your own chambers. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back behind the closed door of your room, you stand frozen. The last few hours of your night running through your head. From the moment you arrived at the River House, something was different. You were different. Less… restricted. You’d felt no such feelings while away in the Summer Court. Your mind races, searching for an answer but coming up short. 

It was then that your stomach let out a loud growl. You missed dinner. You had been on your way to the kitchen when you encountered Elain. You scoff at yourself and your forgetfulness. You pull the shirt stained with Elain’s juices over your head, letting it join your previously discarded nightgown on the floor. Your panties were damp, but with the way the evening was progressing, you figured you’d end up just soaking another pair later, and opted to keep them on. Strolling over to your wardrobe for the third time tonight, not bothering with another shirt or nightdress, you pull on a simple grey robe. The material is thin but warm, enough to reheat your body after your outdoor escapade. 

Feet still bare, you head back out into the hallway and slowly pad down the empty corridor. You make it halfway down the stairs before you hear it. 

“Are you going to be a good boy, for me?” a female’s voice floats from the kitchen. You grip the railing and take a fractured breath. 

“Yes, my Lady. I promise I’ll be such a good boy.” Your core clenches as you recognize the low gravelly voice. For Cauldon’s sake. You should turn away, head back upstairs and forget the words you had just heard coming from the kitchen. But some unknown force, the same force that had emboldened you all night, urges you forward. Each step has your stomach clenching in anticipation. 

Eventually, you arrive at the threshold to the kitchen and your jaw drops. 

In the centre of the room sits Cassian, arms tied behind him to the back of his chair. His wings flare lightly to the sides. He is dressed in nothing but a pair of black undershorts. His bare back is to you, muscles rippling as he squirms, testing the limits of his bindings. 

On the counter is Nesta. You take in her figure and decide that they do indeed call her the Lady Death for a reason. Nesta lays atop the counter, body barely covered by a tight blood-red nightgown, garters on her thighs and red stilettos on her feet. Her hair is twisted into a crown of braids. She lays on her side, head propped up on her hand. In from of her sits a bowl of strawberries. Her hand dances above the bowl before plucking a strawberry from the pile. She brings it to her lips, tongue darting out to taste the berry. Staring into Cassian’s eyes she takes a bite. You and Cassian gasp in unison. 

Nesta’s head jerks in your direction and her steely eyes lock on yours. Caught in your act of voyeurism, you want to look away, look anywhere but at the female, shame should be bubbling through your veins. But it isn’t. You feel no shame. Only desire. Desire spreads through your body, a familiar feeling over the last few hours. Your cunt pulses with every second you stand there, rooted in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of you.

“Who is it Nes?” Cassian questions, trying to gauge his mate’s response to their intruder. You know he could break his binds easily if necessary. Something glimmers in the eldest Archeron’s eyes. Her nostrils flair and her lips quirk in a smirk.

“I’m surprised you can’t smell her yet.” Nesta answers, pushing herself up and into a seated position. You can see Cassian’s back shift as he takes in a deep breath. 

“Y/N.” 

Fuck. They can smell your arousal. 

“I’m sorry for the intrusion,” you have no idea where the sudden confidence has come from and you surprise yourself as you continue, “I seem to have interrupted a late-night snack.” 

The two mates lock eyes again, a whole conversation happening without words. Nesta eventually breaks the stare and returns her eyes to yours. “You’re looking a bit peckish yourself Y/N. You’re welcome to join us.” Mother above. “Come,” Nesta holds her half-eaten strawberry out towards you, “come have a bite.” Your gut tightens.

Your feet move before your brain can fully process what you are doing. It takes you 10 steps to pass Cassian, still tied to the chair, and another 3 to reach Nesta’s outstretched fingers. She parts her thighs so that your body can slide in between them. You gasp as her hand comes up to grasp your chin. Your legs tremble as Nesta leans in and whispers, “you are hungry, aren’t you?”

“Starved.” You manage to choke out. 

The tension is palpable as Nesta brings her strawberry up to your mouth. She traces the bow of your lips with the strawberries dripping flesh. “Open.” She commands. You do as you’re told and you take a bite of the tender fruit, its juice dancing on your tongue. It is Cassian now who lets out a low groan. In a moment you are flooded with sandalwood and lust as Cassian’s arousal hits your nose, and surges throughout the room, mixing with your own. You finally look over to the Illyrian, and what you see makes you hold your breath. A male who normally exudes strength, the General and Commander of your brother’s armies, Lord of Bloodshed, reduced to a squirming mess. Lust glows in his eyes and he looks from Nesta to you. 

“What do you think General?” Cassian squirms again at the use of his title. “I think she is still hungry, don’t you agree?” He lets out a low whine and his hazel eyes lock back on yours, both a reflection of lust and desire. 

“What do you say, Y/N?” he asks, voice low. The innuendos vanish as he probes you for further confirmation. He is making sure you are truly consenting to join in on whatever this was. You lied to yourself when you were shocked by your lust for Cassian earlier this evening, as you did in fact find him incredibly attractive, only more so now that he was entirely whipped by the bewitching Lady Death. It took you less than a second to answer him, the desire you had walked hand in hand with all evening flaring within you.

 “Yes,” you say. 

Nesta’s hand curls more firmly against your chin, turning your head back to hers. “Delectable,” she says. And then her lips are ghosting yours, breath mingling as your eyes flutter shut. You feel her tongue trace the same path of the strawberry, up and around the bow of your lips, and sweeping across the small gape of your mouth. 

Your hands instinctively come up to encircle her waist. 

Nesta’s lips leave you immediately, and you feel her arm reach down and give you a sharp smack on your ass. The sounds reverberate through the kitchen. You let out a hiss and your eyes fly open. “Unh unh kitten, no touching,” Nesta says, as she pulls your arms back down to your sides “don’t make me punish you.” 

You’re pretty sure your eyes roll into the back of your head at her words, and your thighs clench as wave after wave of desire crashes in you. “Yes, my Lady,” you murmur back. You hear Cassian let out another low groan as he shifts in his chair. 

“There’s a good kitten,” Nesta smiles, “now why don’t we give the General a little treat.” You hum in response. Nesta spins you around so that your back now falls against her. Your head falls into the crook of her neck as you eye Cassian once again. He looks up at the two of you through hooded eyes. You tilt your head slightly to the side and inhale Nesta’s scent of steel and pomegranate. “I want you to ride his thigh,” she says and the world stops for a moment. You stop breathing and you’re sure that Cassian does the same. Are you really about to do this with your best friend? The step forward you take is answer enough. You’re only another foot away from the Illyrian when Nesta’s voice rings out from behind you again, “Oh, and kitten,” you can hear the smirk in her voice, “drop your panties.” 

“Yes, Lady.” You reach under your robe and slowly slide your panties down your legs. You can see the dark patch made by the arousal now coating your thighs. Panties on the floor, the room is awash with a new wave of your potent arousal. Another low growl tears through Cassian’s lips. 

Cassian sits with his legs spread. His thighs are thick and muscular, the tanned skin shifting as you approach. Now standing in front of him, you quickly shift so that one of your legs is on either side of his left leg. Using his shoulders for leverage, you slowly lower yourself down onto the General’s thigh. The heat of his leg causes your breath to hitch. Cassian whimpers as the juices from your bare cunt weep onto his leg. You begin to move then, slow torturous gyrations as you get a feel for the large corded muscle beneath you. As your core soaks the General’s leg, you begin to pick up speed, rocking back and forth as the pleasure builds. 

“Good girl.” Nesta approaches you from behind. “Isn’t she being such a good Kitten, General?” 

“Mhm,” Cassian grunts, “so good.” His breath is coming out in pants, just as forceful as your own. 

“And Kitten, isn’t the General being such a good boy?” 

“Such a good boy,” you squeak out, your clit rubbing against his muscle. 

“I think he deserves a little treat.” From behind you, Nesta reaches between you and Cassian and palms his engorged member, straining painfully in his underwear. Cassian bellows in relief at the touch. Nesta’s fingers dip below the hem of his shorts and pull them down. Cassian’s cock springs free, slapping his stomach. His cock is massive and rock-hard. Long, and girthy with thick veins running along his shaft, his tip a dusky pink. It pulses in time with your ruts against his leg. Your nails dig into the soft flesh of his shoulders as your pupils blow wide with lust. Nesta pumps his shaft once, then again in rapid succession before her hand releases her mate's member. The General whines at the loss of contact, rutting up into the air, desperate for friction, precum gathering at his tip. You don’t dare indulge him without permission from your Lady Death, but your cunt throbs at the thought of punishment.

Nesta’s hands now travel to your body. Her nails graze up your thighs, against your curved hips, and up to your shoulders. She squeezes them gently before her hands travel further, up your neck and into your hair, brushing it all to one side. Her mouth lowers to your neck and she licks a long strip up your sweat-soaked flesh. She hums in delight at the taste, nuzzling the crook of your neck as she whispers into your ear. “Do you like looking at your best friend’s cock, kitten?” 

You let out a breathy moan, not able to form any words as you ride the General’s thigh into oblivion.  Nesta tuts and her hands grip your hips painfully, stopping the delicious friction. It was your turn to whine in protest, core aching at the loss. “Use your words kitten.” 

“Yes.” you whine, as you try to regain momentum. Nesta squeezes your hips harder.

“Yes, what.” Her tone is sharp. 

“Yes, Lady.” And then you are free again, hips moving wildly as you chant Yes, Yes, Yes. 

“Good kitten.” Lady Death places a kiss at the corner of your mouth. “You’ve seen his. Now it’s your turn to show us yours.” With that, her hands descend between you and the General once again, travelling to the tie at your waist. With a sharp tug, the rope comes loose, and your robe opens. Your nipples harden at the exposure. 

Cassian groans and the tip of his cock weeps at the sight. Your breasts rock back and forth in time with your thrusts. Cassian pulls on his restraints, desperate to touch them, to touch you. “Please.” He moans. The General bucks into the air again and again, “Please, Please Lady, Please”. 

Your hips gyrate faster, and you feel your release approaching. Nesta, still behind you, leans down and bites the lobe of your ear. “Come for me, kitten.” 

And then you are toppling over the edge. Your orgasm rips through you and you scream in delight. The General is right behind you, wings flaring and release thundering as he cums all over your chest. Your hips do not slow as you ride out every wave of pleasure. The three of you were so lost in the moment you had not heard the approaching footsteps.

“What the Fuck is this?” 

Your hips still, and from your position on Cassian’s lap, you open your eyes gaze dragging over the tips of his wings and to the doorway. 

And there stands Azriel, shadows swarming around him in a frenzy. 

“Az.” you croak, voice horse from screaming. The look of astonishment and anger in his eyes have you trying to stand up, to go to him and try to explain, but Nesta keeps a firm pressure on your shoulders, keeping you astride her mate. Confusion runs through you as you look up to meet her eyes, and youquickly understand her actions.

Cassian’s wings currently shielded your naked body, now dripping in his cum from Azriel’s view. As if in understanding, Cassian’s wings flare a little wider, ensuring full coverage of his mate and yourself.

“Brother,” Cassian replies, trying to keep the fucked out tone from his voice, “I do believe you’ve caught us at a bad time.” 

“Y/N? What sort of sick-, Why would you-, You know I-, Y/N, really Cass?” Azriel tries to form a coherent sentence. 

It’s Nesta that responds. “She is not your property, shadowsinger. You do not own her.”

“You took advantage of h-” Azriel roars. 

You roar right back. 

“I wanted this Azriel! I wanted this with every fibre of my being. All three of us chose to be here. Nesta is right, you do not own me. We are three consenting adults. The only one who has no right to be here right now is you.”  Your gaze pierces his, and you can see the hurt on his face. “Now, get out,” you spit, and he disappears into his shadows without another word. 

With the shadowsinger gone, Cassian’s wings lower, and your head falls to rest on his sweaty chest. "Well, fuck me." Cassian grunts, his nose burying into your hair. You feel his chest rise and fall, the powerful thumps of his heart slowing with your own. 

“I believe she just did, my dear mate.” Nesta muses, she slinks around the pair of you, coming up behind Cassian, and resting her head on his other shoulder. Your mixed arousal hangs heavy in the air, a reminder of the dalliance that had played out in the kitchen of the River House. 

You want more. You want to feel Cass’s lips upon your own. You want to lick the sweat down his pectorals and taste the cum that was now pooling between your breasts. You wanted to feast upon Lady Death herself, and to have her feast upon you, to feel her sharp tongue against your cunt. This new development in your relationship felt natural. It felt right.  You wanted to spend hours exploring the line between pleasure and pain, exhilaration and humiliation, domination and submission. You want more, and you can see in their eyes that they want more too. 

But the tone has shifted, and you have Azriel to thank for that. 

You sit up straight and push your wobbly legs up into a standing position. Cassian hisses as the air blows across the cooling slick left behind on his thigh. “Y/N,” he mumbles, “that was-”

“Incredible,” you finish for him, “that was pretty damn incredible.” You pull your robe closed and retie the stay at your waist. Nesta leans down and unties the bindings on her mate's wrists, he too rises to a standing position, retucking his spent cock into his underwear. Nesta slides her arm through his and the mates regard you appreciatively. 

“I hope you don’t-”, Nesta trails off, words like glue in her mouth, “have any regrets?” 

“Never,” you confirm. “My only regret is that we were interrupted.” You stare at the small smile that replaces the concern on Nesta’s features. You lean up and give them both a kiss on the cheek. “Good night my Lady. Good night General”. You stand back and give them a wink, “Let’s do this again soon, yeah?” 

Come daylight, there would likely be some serious conversations to be had. But that could wait. For now, you turn on your heels and make your way back to the stairs. 

“We’ll see you soon, kitten.” 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Azriel-

Azriel winnows himself out into the estate gardens. His mind races and his shadows swarm, blocking out the light of the moon. His scarred hands are shaking, and with horror, rage or sadness he is unsure. 

Cassian and Nesta… and Y/N? 

He is baffled by what he saw transpiring in the kitchen. 

He had been out on an after-dinner patrol and had arrived late into the night. He was used to the carnal activities of his brother and his mate and was keen on ignoring their sounds of pleasure when an unfamiliar cry of indulgence had piqued his interest. A third? he had wondered. But as his morbid curiosity had propelled him forward, he had realized that the new voice was not unfamiliar in the slightest. It was the voice of all his desire. The voice that had lived in his mind and in his dreams for the last 250 years. He reached the threshold to the kitchen and his worst nightmare was confirmed. 

There had sat Cassian with his back to him, hands tied to the chair behind him. Nesta stood in front of him, a devilish grin on her face as she watched the events unfold. And there, saddled between the two, was Y/N. Her eyes closed, she violently rocked back and forth atop Cassian. He could not see what was happening in its entirety from behind his brother’s wings, but he could smell the heady scent of arousal oozing from every pore of the trios' bodies. 

Azriel had watched Nesta lean over and whisper something in Y/N’s ear. 

And then Y/N and Cassian were coming undone. Azriel stood, unable to move as he watched the female he loved, cum atop his brother. He couldn’t take it.

“What the Fuck is this?” The question tore out of his throat before he could stop it. 

And then you had opened your eyes and whispered his name, and for a moment he allowed himself to imagine what it would have been like to be in Cassian’s place. To have felt you come undone for him…on him…with him. 

But she hadn’t been with him. Y/N had chosen his brother and his brother’s mate of all the Fae in the Gods damned Court. He could not recollect the words he had spoken after that, anger and despair had blinded him. He was going to be sick. 

He shoots up into the sky and heads to the House of Wind. He needs to be away from them all so that he doesn’t do anything else he would regret. His wings flap hard and fast, the cold air slicing against their membranes painfully. Good, he thinks to himself. He lands on the balcony at the House of Wind too soon, and he drops hard onto the marble floor. He needs to hit something so that he doesn’t hit his brother in the face. 

Azriel stalks his way through the dining room with the intent of heading up to the sparring ring, when a shadow curls around his ear. Stop, it whispers, not right. The table. Azriel whirls back around and surveys his surroundings. His eyes narrow in on the table. On the table sits a book, likely left by Nesta, and the tray Lucien brought. The tray that holds the love potion. Correction, the tray that held the love potion. Azriel seizes the pitcher off of the tray. Empty. His mind races once again. Who would have taken it? Why not take the whole tray, the pitcher at the very least? Maybe, Cerrdiwen or Nuala dumped it out? No, they haven’t been up here today. Azriel has no idea what is going on.

His nose twitches as it perceives a faint scent. He turns back to the tray inspecting it closely. The jug and challis were bone dry, with not a drop of the elixir left. The note was long gone, burned to ash by his brother upon Lucien’s arrival earlier this evening. He turns his eyes then to the rose. The rose, which upon further inspection housed thorns coated in a thin layer of dried blood. 

Y/N’s blood. 

Y/N who was been at the Summer Court until right before dinner, 

Y/N who had missed the discussion about the contents of the pitcher, 

Y/N who had likely stopped by the House of Wind to drop off her bags before joining the family at dinner. 

Y/N, who he had just been riding Cassian into oblivion. 

“Fuck.” 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Y/N-

You once again find yourself leaning against your bedroom door. 

“What the glorious fuck was that?” you ask aloud, letting out a nervous chuckle. You had just participated in a three-sum with your best friend and his mate. Your best friend and his mate. Cassian and Nesta. The General and his Lady Death. 

The names alone make you shiver. 

The memory of your core ground against Cassian’s well-muscled thigh, Nesta whispering sin in your ear makes you clench your teeth, and your thighs. You let out a frustrated moan. This lustful hunger just won’t LEAVE, and the chance of further ministrations was halted by that winged fuck, Azriel. Azriel, whose eyes you had held as you road out your climax. Azriel, who had looked devastated as he saw you astride his brother. Had he been devastated? You wondered, or disappointed. 

He has no right to be disappointed in anything that you do. He held no claim to your body, or to your heart. Well, he held no claim to your body and if he had known about the space he occupied in your heart, after all this time, and still had not acted upon it, well then he did not deserve even a sliver of the adoration you felt. Let him be disappointed, it was none of your concern. 

He was none of your concern. Not his thoughts of your activities, nor his distaste for your actions. His glowing eyes did not deserve to behold you. His plush lips did not deserve to taste you. His rough fingers did not deserve to slip below the waistline of your panties, and- 

Another frustrated groan tears through your throat as your knees quake, thighs snapping together, desperate for friction. You push off the door with a huff, walking towards your bathroom. You need to wash Cassian’s seed off of your body. You undo the tie at your waist and allow the now cum stained garment to join the others on the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember that you had had panties on when you entered the kitchen. You can only hope that Nes and Cass had grabbed them during clean-up. 

You draw yourself another ice-cold bath and submerge yourself fully. The cold water distracts your mind as you scrub your body and hair. Once you are thoroughly cleansed, you step out of the tub, wrap yourself in a fresh towel and you make your way back to your damn wardrobe. You pray to the Cauldron that this is your last outfit change of the night. You pull out a blue pyjama set with tight but pliant shorts and a cropped camisole. Not bothering with undergarments you quickly pull your clothes on and flop onto the bed. 

You pull the covers up to your chin, mind blissfully blank from the cold bath… Until those glowing hazel eyes and sensuous lips hurtle around the walls of your mind. You think of his toned chest, glistening with sweat in the sparring ring, the curve of his wings as he holds himself with deadly precision. His intoxicating scent of night-chilled mist and cedar is almost upon your tongue as you imagine what it would be like for the shadowsinger to interrogate you like one of his prisoners. Cauldron boil me. Your hand travels to the hem of your shorts, and then lower still to your already slick slit. Your fingers easily find your swollen clit, and begin to swirl around it delectably. Your other hand comes up to palm your breast, when suddenly you hear a knock at your door. 

Your fingers still.

You don’t answer, hoping that the nuisance will get the hint. You hear another sharp knock at the door, followed by a muffled voice. “Y/N, please let me in. It’s important.” The slight rise in his tone, has you muttering a quick ‘enter’. The door swings open and the shadowsinger slinks in, a fae light bobbing behind him.

His nose is immediately overwhelmed with scent. The heady scent of your arousal was emanating from every surface in the room. It was intoxicating the spymaster, your scent driving him to the edge of his wits.

An edge he is quickly pulled back from as he smells his brother’s scent intermingling, as well as the scent of another, Elain. He eyes the pile of soiled clothing on the floor, the evidence that confirms his suspicions. “Gods, Y/N.” He clears his throat. “I know you were not feeling yourself tonight, but-” he starts. Your eyes widen in surprise. 

“Incorrect shadowsinger,” you stare at him, “I feel more myself than I ever have. Just more-”

“Free of inhibition?” he supplies. 

“Suppose I was. What concern is it of yours?” Your lips purse.

“I figured you deserve to know what was happening.” Azriel moves to your bed, sitting on the edge. He reaches into the pocket of his leathers and produces a single crumpled red rose. All of a sudden forgotten memory floods your mind. A pitcher full of plum-coloured starlight. The burn of it on your lips, down your throat. You remember drinking and drinking until there was nothing left. The urge you felt to drink, warped and resurged as the desire for Elain, for Cassian and Nesta, and for Azriel. Your hand twitches at the thought, fingers still primed over your clit. 

“So what was that mystery beverage, you all so lovingly forgot to label?” 

Azriel snorts before replying, “Affectus Revelare.”

“No shit?” Bewilderment shines in your eyes.

“It’s a love potion of sorts-” 

“I’m well aware of its side effects.” And you were, having heard stories of its potency from your brother. “I had just never seen it in person.” 

Azriel huffs, trying hard to keep his face void of emotion. “I’d assume then that you know that any intense feelings of pleasure you acted upon while under its influence, were no fault of your own.” 

“Let me make one thing absolutely clear, Azriel.” Your voice cut like glass, eyes as sharp as steel. “Anything I did tonight, I did because I wanted to. The bullshit spell does nothing but bring to the surface feelings I already have. I have no regrets about what I have done or will do tonight.” Azriel looks as though he is swallowing a mouthful of marbles. 

“Right,” he hastily stands, “I suppose now that you are feeling…better, I should probably let you get some sleep.” He treads to the door, head low, shadows tight against his silhouette. 

You should let him go, let you both stew overnight, and then try talking again. It is the smart thing to do. In spite of that, you curse your horny mouth as it opens and words fly out, “Who says I’m feeling better?” 

He freezes two paces from the door. Whipping around to face you again, his eyes are alight with panic. You pull your stilled hand out of your shorts and sit up. The blanket pools at your waist, your puckered nipples on full display from underneath your shirt. Your hand, still coated in your slick shines under the fae light. He looks from your face to your chest, to your sex-slicked hand and back again. He blinks and his nostrils flare, likely scenting the new wave of arousal that was coursing through your veins. 

In a flash he is back at your bedside, the back of his hand coming up and resting on your forehead. He is mumbling to himself. Cauldron, he’s having more mood swings than I am. “Care to share what the Hell you’re doing Azriel?” 

“It must have been laced with something else,” he grimaces, “another tonic or elixir maybe. Something to increase potency,” he swallows. “Did you… finish when you were in the kitchen?”

“You were there, Az… You saw me… You know I did.”

“Well, it’s not a matter of your partner reaching completion. If Elain and Cassian both-”

You were unnerved that he knew about Elain as well. “Az, what are you trying to tell me?”

“Maybe you need to, erm, try again? Or perhaps, it is Nesta and not Cassian you truly desire? Perhaps if you-” 

“Azriel. Stop with your nonsense ramblings.”

“No, Y/N. You don’t understand! Something must be wrong. Your desires should be satiated by now. Once you bedded the true object of your affection, the potion was supposed to wear off.” His eyes met yours, and you could see that his mind was running a mile a minute. He was still upset, but now concern sat at the front of his mind. 

“I assume you tried with Elain first, and when that didn’t relieve your symptoms, you finally gave in to your basal instincts and realized it was Cassian, not Elain you truly desired.” Anger clouded your vision as he continues to spew utter garbage. “But you should be feeling better after your session in the kitchen. I should wake Rhys, perhaps he-”

You vault up to a kneeling position, shoving him with both hands. He staggers back a step.

“The hell you will! Do. Not. Wake my brother. What would be your plan for that anyways? ‘Oh Rhys, wake up! Your sister can’t stop fucking the other members of your Court! Oh please Rhys, come and get your little sister under control before she gets her horny over us all’ Ya, great plan Az.” Your eyes are burning with rage now, and your cunt  pulses with a heartbeat of its own. You were yelling and you couldn’t make yourself stop. “Even so, everything I did tonight was something everyone involved consented to. There was no primal urge forcing me to finger fuck myself for hours, to fuck Elain, to ride Cassian. It was me. I wanted those things, and they wanted them too. And it was beautiful and passionate, and intense. I desired them all, hell I still do.” You take a deep breath. “But, did you, even for one second use your tiny brain to think that maybe Elain or Cassian or Nesta aren’t the dominant object of my affection? You stupid Illyrian brute.” 

“Who’s left Y/N? Who? Who could it possibly be? Amren? Lucien?” Azriel’s hands fist into the blankets on your bed, his shadows flying, his words disjointed as his mind can’t stop racing. He doesn't notice that he too is now yelling. “Oh, it’s Lucien, isn’t it? I know you used to fuck but come on-”

“IT'S YOU, YOU INSOLENT ASSHOLE.” 

Time stops as you watch the shadowsinger’s mask crack. You see a hundred different emotions ripple across his face, joy, wonder, thrill and love? But then you also see, confusion, anger, jealousy, betrayal, sorrow, and disgust. “Y/N,” he whispers, voice horse and cracked, “Y/N, you don’t want me- you can’t want me.” 

“For Cauldron’s sake Azriel, I have loved you for the last two centuries! I wept and pined for you as you obsessed over Mor, and then I agonized over you as your affection turned to Elain. Not that I can blame you-”

“I have no interest in Elain.” He declares, eyes locked on yours. “I never did.”

“Bullshit.” You snort, “I’ve seen the way you stare at her, the way you follow her around-” 

“I stared because you stared, Y/N. I followed because you followed. Elain is lovely, but it was you, not I, who obviously fell for her charms.”  

You are at a loss for words now. Your jaw twitches. What does this mean? He wasn’t watching Elain. He doesn’t love Elain. Your entire body felt aflame. Sweat was gathering at the base of your neck leaving your hair damp. You wanted to combust, thigh trembling at this admission. Your nipples are taut, pressing tightly against your top. Your breath is shaky, “What are you telling me Azriel?” 

“I-I, okay look,” Azriel grinds his teeth, “It doesn’t matter. What I’m telling you is that you are mistaken. It is not me you want.” He takes a step closer to you, his knees grazing the edge of your bed.

“Oh, I’m mistaken?” You lift yourself higher on your knees, edging closer to the Illyrian in front of you.

“Yes.” 

You can feel his breath on your face. 

“Then prove it.” 

His lips crash down onto yours. The kiss is hard and rough, but his lips are as soft as velvet. His hands are at your waist, and he is pulling you up until you are flush with his chest. You gasp, and Azriel’s tongue surges forward into your open mouth, dominating your tongue with his own. Your hands snake up to his hair and pull hard at his black curls, bringing his body even closer to yours.

You pull both of your bodies back towards the bed, lips never separating. You work to unfasten his leathers, as you do. Agile fingers make quick work, and soon his chest is bare and heaving, his tattoos stark against his skin under the fae light. Tiny scars dance across his torso as his muscles ripple, and he pulls you to the head of the bed. He kneels above you now, one knee between your legs, hands resting on either side of your head as he braces himself. He begins to pull away from the kiss, so you nip his lip, a shrill whine leaving your throat. A bead of bright red blood wells on his lip. His eyes open, and you see that his pupils are blown wide. He watches your tongue dart out to lick the crimson ichor. His mouth clashes with yours once again, his body pinning you to the bed, as the coppery tang of blood mixes in your mouths. The elixir in your veins sings at the taste of his blood. Him. The very taste you craved. 

You roll your hips against him and you can feel the bulge in his pants. Azriel growls, and he brings a hand down to your hips to halt your movements. His hand then travels up your body, leaving a burning trail up to the edge of your shirt. His hand stills for but a moment and you lift your back off of the bed in answer. Your lips separate once more as his hands pull the thin material up and over your head. He beholds your naked flesh as if he were a male damned to the gallows. As if you would be the last sight he sees. You hear him mutter under his breath, a plea or a prayer, but you can’t quite make it out. 

“Az.” 

He unleashes himself on you. 

His lips devour yours, a battle of teeth and tongues. His mouth moves down your neck, leaving hard wet kisses in his wake. He reaches the crook of your neck, mouth suckling your skin. His teeth brush the bruise that is forming there. And then he is clamping his teeth into your flesh. The force of the bite makes your body tremble. The sharp pain causes a scream to rip through your lungs, your hands fly up to grasp his shoulder blades, your nails shredding against his skin. The pain fades to a deep throb, pulsing in time with your needy cunt. 

Your neck stings as his mouth pulls away. He offers you a smirk and you can see your blood in his mouth. He’s on you again, lips trailing down your collarbone to the valley between your breasts. His tongue trails lazy strokes against your dewy flesh before his lips clamp around one of your pert nipples. He groans at the taste of your flesh, his tongue flicking against it. You let out a shriek of ecstasy, your hips bucking up against his groin. You thrust against him, desperate for friction. His hand gives your other breast a rough squeeze in response. 

“Please Az. I need you.” You were gasping the words, stuttering with every hard suck, “I need you inside me. Now.” 

 His lips leave your breast with a diabolical pop. “Patience, little one.” A small smile graces his lips, “Not until I’ve tasted your sweet cunt.” 

The weight of his body leaves you, but before you can question him, you feel two strong hands clamp around your ankles, pulling you to the edge of the bed. Azriel’s thumbs hook into the waistband of your shorts, and they quickly join the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. 

You lay completely bare before him. He spreads your legs, and he falls to his knees, eyes in line with your dripping cunt. Your arousal has seeped down your thighs and to the bedsheets below. He utters your name in worship as he lowers his mouth to your core. 

He feasts like a man starved, drowning in your arousal as your thighs clamp around his head, your core pulsing with the need to be filled. His tongue flicks against your clit, sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure through you. His scarred hands clamp around your thighs as he pulls you impossibly closer. His tongue thrusts into your hole and you see white. You are so close to the edge, so close to climax.

“Az-. Az! Please, Please Cauldron, please. I’m close.” You’re moaning, pulling at his hair to make him look up at you.  “Please, I want to cum with your inside me.” 

His fingers lessen their grip, and his mouth leave your sex. His lips are glistening with your juices, as his hands travel to the buckles at his thigh, removing the sheath containing Truth-Teller, next he works the ties of his boots and pants, both are quickly discarded. With a tug of his undershorts, the Spymaster of the Night Court stands before you in all of his glory, and he is magnificent. 

His cock throbs against his stomach as he watches you watch him. He fists his rock-hard length and he looks at you with a question burning in his eyes, giving you a chance to turn him away. But you need him, you burn for him. 

“I need you inside of me Azriel.” You can feel the head of his cock brush against your folds, your head falling back and you whine at the contact, “Fuck me. Gods fuck me.” His cock rubs against your sex a few more times, your slick lubricating his length, and then he is slowly pushing inside of you. 

Your cunt stretches, and you’re not sure if you’re moaning in pain or in rapturous pleasure. He stills for a moment, halfway inside you, letting your body acclimate to his thick member. He leans down and leaves a chaste kiss against your lips. 

“Ready?” he asks, voice low, strained with the effort to remain still. 

“Yes.”

He pulls his cock out all the way out, and with a buck of his hips, completely sheaths himself inside of you. Again and again, his hips slam against yours, cock pistoning in and out of you. His cock fills you completely, your cunt stretched as far as it can, and each vein along his shaft rubs deliciously against you. The tip of his cock brushes against your spongey tissue and you whail in bliss. 

“Harder.”

He complies, his hips fracturing against your pelvis, driving him further inside of you. Your hands reach around and grab his ass, driving him even deeper. The fae lights are flickering in and out, the bed is shaking, cracking against the wall, and you are screaming, and screaming, insane from the pleasure.

You plummet over the edge, wailing his name as your orgasm cleaves you in two. 

Azriel follows you over the cliff, his wings flare wide, and he lets out a roar as his thick cum paints your insides. His pace begins to slow as he continues to thrust in and out, prolonging your pleasure. He stills inside of you but doesn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to fully unsheath himself, savouring the feeling of you around him. 

“Y/N…” his voice is hoarse. He starts to pull away, but you just lean in and capture his lips with another kiss. 

“Let’s talk about what this means later Az. For now,” your eyes shine bright in the moonlight and it takes his breath away, “for now, can you just hold me?” He nods and swallows hard. Shimming up to the head of the bed, you both slide under your covers, he tucks you into his side, arm draped around your waist. Your head rests on his chest, and you breathe in the scent of his sweat and musk. 

You can feel his come slowly trickle down your leg. 

You feel complete and satiated. The roar in your veins from the potion has gone, left in its place was love. Your eyes feel heavy and you begin to drift off to sleep. “Told you so,” you mumble. You’re fast asleep now, and miss the look of regret that crosses the Shadowsingers face.

.

.

.

Hours later you awaken to an empty bed. 

[dragonmurray]

Poisoned Truth

Loki x female reader

Triggers - smut, 18+, mild angst

Description - hydra had poisoned the team with a love drug. What will you do when you’re the only one without a lover?

————

You were screwed. No two ways about it. Death was coming for you. The irony in that phrase.

A simple mission with the Avengers turned out to be a trap set by Hydra. Tony, Nat, Clint and you headed over to a warehouse thinking you would be collecting some valuable intel on the latest leader to step up in Hydra. It was too late when Tony detected the gas in the building, you were all infected.

The flight back in the jet was spent scanning, researching, testing everything possible to work out what they had poisoned you with, but 5 minutes in to the flight you were starting to realise.

Tony was desperate to get to Pepper, Nat to Bruce, and Clint to his wife. Desperate with need. Overwhelming, soul crushing need. From the little Tony could gather the Hydra drug would drive them to madness, boil them from the inside out unless they found their completion with the one they love.

Hydra were placing their bets on no Avenger being able to find true love. They would lose that bet, for the most part.

You however? Agent y/n l/n? You had no such love. Not that anyone knew anyway. You made it back to the tower, the others running to their loved ones for some life saving alone time. You slowly stumbled back to your room, a thin veil of sweat starting to cover your body. Alone.

You closed the door to your room and sank down to the floor. A weird kind of acceptance seeping in to your brain. So this is how it would end. Thwarted by the one enemy you could never defeat, love and orgasms. How poetic. You weren’t a virgin, you’d had your share of partners, but every one a disappointment. No man had ever taken the time to learn your body, to relish in your pleasure instead of their own. You’d never known pleasure from another.

An ache in your core starter and your mind drifted to the man you had dared to hope would have changed that. A secret hope he could never know of. He, a God, could never lower himself to the standards of a mortal. Sure you spent most of your free time together. Reading, playing tricks on each other to pass the time. You were one of the few to get him to open up and on some occasions, laugh. But he was also quick to tell you of his lineage, his power, his birthright.

You were just y/n. A basic mortal with some killer fighting skills. Nothing more.

A knock on your door had you jumping and groaning at the same time as the heat flared in your body.

“Agent?” Loki called “agent you need to let me in”

“Go away Loki, you can’t be near me. You can’t see this. It’s fine just go” you replied. Keeping your voice as flat as possible in the hope he wouldn’t care enough to stay.

“We both know that’s not true. I’ve seen, and heard the other return. I know something is very wrong now let me in” Loki sounded aggravated. So he wanted to know what happened, good for him, he can read about it later you thought.

Shivers were starting to run down your spine. His proximity not helping your situation. You may not be ready to admit your feelings for the god, but clearly your body knew. It was getting harder to form coherent thoughts so you didn’t bother to respond to him. Resting your head back on the door you closed your eyes as pain started to deep in to your limbs.

“Agent!” An urgent voice right in front of you. You open your eyes to see Loki knelt in front of you, his eyes taking in the sight of you. Dazed, hot, your breathing increased.

“How, how are you here Loki?” Tony restricted his magic in the compound while he earned his place in society.

“My dear y/n. If you think there is anywhere in the nine realms I couldn’t reach to get to you, you are so very mistaken” he reached a hand forward to cup your face.

“NO!” You shot up and tried to back across your room, anywhere to get some distance from him. His proximity was sending your body into overdrive. Your mind couldn’t comprehend his words. Was this the drug? Making you see and hear things? “Loki you can’t be here. The mission went wrong. Hydra, drugged us. It’s bad. I can’t… you can’t…” your eyes fluttered and your legs faltered as a wave of heat came from your core.

In a second Loki was beside you, catching you as you fell. You cried out as his body made contact with yours. Part pain, part desperate need. Loki couldn’t wait any longer, his palm touched your forehead and he dove in to your memories. A sigh escaped him as he realised why you were trying to escape him.

“Y/n, I am here. You have nothing to fear. It would be my honour to stay with you, foolish mortal” a smile tugged his lips “I will not stop until you are cured, and I can’t guarantee I will after that either”

Your eyes fluttered open as you tried to take in his words. “I…” that was all he allowed before his lips crashed in to yours. I’m an instant heat burned through you with the power of a thousand suns. No pain, just need and fulfilment. This is what you needed. He is what you needed.

A moan escaped your lips as fingers caress your scalp, tugging your head to align you more perfectly with his mouth. His sinful, achingly beautiful mouth. You could come apart right now. A tiny voice in the back of your barely functioning mind started to whisper dark thoughts, telling you this wouldn’t work. No one else has managed to pleasure you fully, you’re broken.

Loki couldn’t sense your hesitation. He needed to silence it. After months of yearning, never daring to risk their treasured friendship, he finally had you. Upon seeing the state of the other avengers on their return he knew he had to find you. He couldn’t lose you.

His mouth left yours and blazed a trail down your neck, stopping to nip and suck at your pulse point, pulling a ragged moan from your throat and silencing all voices in your head. Your fingers dove in to his hair and pulled him closer. Still half collapsed in to each other on the floor he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ground in to him as moans spilled from your lips. Loki intended to lay you on the bed but it was too much for him. He slammed you in to the wall, teeth latching on to your neck as his hand found your hardened nipple beneath your suit and rolled it between his thumb and finger.

You cried out, core tightening as you felt yourself close to cumming already. Gods how you wanted him, needed him. You had never felt like this before. He groaned as his hips rocked in to you. “Gods y/n, you feel perfect against me. I need to touch every part of you, taste all of you” with a wave of his hand your clothes melted from your body. “Perfection” he said as he looked down at you, still wrapped round his waist. Your head back and eyes closed in pure bliss. The pink tint to your skin brought him back to reality, he needed to save you.

His hands gripped you tightly as he spun round and placed you on the edge of the bed. With no time to think about your new position he dove between your thighs, mouth latching on to your clit and sucking hard. The force of it slammed in to your nerves and had you screaming out, back arched in pure pleasure. You had never felt anything close to this before, even from your own hands. His attack on your clit didn’t let up as he slid 2 fingers into your pussy, curling to find your spot and pumping relentlessly. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, not enough air in your lungs to even scream out as an orgasm ripped through your body with enough force to bend your backwards.

When you finally came down you gasped for air. Your foggy brain trying to work out what happened, how it happened. Blinking back to reality you looked down at Loki still sat between your legs looking at you with awe in his eyes.

“How… how did you do that? Is it the drug?” You asked.

He looked at you confused. “I’m unsure what you mean Y/n. Has no one done this to you before?”.

You shook your head. “Not like that, no one’s ever made me cum Loki” you looked away and started to try to cover yourself from embarrassment. He took your hands to stop you. As he did another wave of heat started to build, the drug wasn’t done with you yet. You whimpered and Loki realised your pain.

“Mortal men cannot comprehend the goddess that you are Agent. It seems you have been waiting for me for far too long…”. He climbed up your body, his hand sliding into your hair and…..

And I’m a really mean writer! Do I carry on?!

[thesexydancingcrepe]

Something is Severely Wrong!

*it's hurts*

*This isn't love. This feels toxic*

*I can't breathe*

*Hold me... kill me... SAVE ME... love me*

Petnames pt.1

I really like the love potion trope with the dark twist. Where everyone sees the person as perfectly "fine," when on the inside, it's an obsessed torture mind flooding.

The Love Potioned victim is hardly a person anymore, just pure devotion and obsession. So our hero has to break the spell, now turning curse, to get the actual version of the person they love back. Even if that version of them don't share their feelings in return, because having a real person, is better than a lovesick shell.

Petnames pt.2

What's in The Dart (poll)

[cup1dt3a]

❤︎Lovely ︎Mistake ❤︎

Summary: An unfortunate accident happened to the perfect of ramshackle. (As always) For they were splashed with a mysterious pink substance that emitted a sickeningly sweet aroma. And anyone that was in the same room as them has gotten a huge lungful of the sweet air. And so on as the smoke cleared everyone’s pink heart filled eyes were now more apparent as they all had locked on one person. You. So how will this unfortunate even of 22 now love sick men frothing at the mouth for you turn out?

” No! I’m the only one fit to marry a person such as ____!”

“ Ha! Now that’s the funniest thing you’ve ever told me! We all know I’m the best person they could choose to marry!”

“ Oh please! I could out do all of you!”

“ Really now? The let’s see who ____ chooses!”

You gulped as you pulled at the collar of your shirt already feeling sweaty from the sudden room of pink eyes longingly staring at you.

What had gotten you into this situation was your idiotic friends. For they had gotten into an argument over what was and wasn’t the right ingredient for the spelling error in your book. And so on Ace decided to add rose petals into your concoction. Because asking the teacher was totally not an option or getting another book. And just as he did your teacher had come over to warn him not to. But alas he had dumped them before Mr. Crewel could mutter a single word. Then the pink concoction of yours had exploded all over you along with a pink mist of what looked like fog covering the whole room. Next thing you know everyone except for your teacher and you are passed out on the ground.

“ Are you sure he didn’t add anything else?” Crewel asked you.

You shook your head knowing that the rose petals were the only ingredient he shouldn’t have added to the mix. And the only one you saw him add on. This caused the man to sigh holding his temples in annoyance that only one student had managed to knock out an entire class. He then scanned over his textbooks shooing you off to go check on everyone while he looked for what this “mishap” of Ace’s could have done to the others. You then went off into the infirmary to go check if your classmates and friends had finally woken up. As you strolled down the never ending halls of NRC you had noticed some students constantly staring at you. Including the hallways seemingly quieter than usual. All you could make out from a few of the conversations were “ oh yeah I heard!…I think they had taken the whole class out or some other first year in…” Seems like the rumors spread around quickly here since now you were the unwanted main focus of everyone. You sped up your pace feeling anxious from the sudden unwanted attention of your colleagues. Hurrying up into the nurses office you rushed to close the door as quietly as possible. As you looked onto the now half empty beds in the nursery. You saw that they were all gone. Not a single bed left occupied by any of the students that had passed out. All except the 5 Heartslabyul members who were still as dead as a door nail. You went over to your friends checking to for any distress as they slept. Thankfully they were all ok. But as one of them started to wake up you noticed a change in their eyes because instead of their usual shade of red it was a hot pink that shimmered as soon as he laid his eyes on you. “ Oh! Ace you’re finally up! Could you please tell me what-“

“ Perfect just the person I wanted to see!” The red head interrupted as he rushed closer to you with an arm around your waist. Weird.

“ Ok? Anyways what all did you put into our potion?” You questioned as he took a moment to think before just shrugging.

Sighing you looked over to the rest of the Heartslabyl members to see some of them start stirring in their sleep. Worried you had rushed over closer to the members seeing if it was perhaps an effect of the potion. But soon after most all of the Heartslabyl members were awake and on you. They were all practically trying to silently fight over your attention on the small bed.

For your comedic duo was on your sides. Ace was on your right; Deuce was on your left. Cater was right next to Ace almost shoving the poor first year off the bed the five of you shared. Trey was right behind you; Riddle was the only one not swarming you on the bed for he was I front of you. All of them singing sweet praises and bolder affections to you.

You think Ace created a love potion for the usually not as chaotic upperclassman would never tag along with the duo’s bs. And mostly knew what personal space was. Trey and Riddle did more than Cater. You chuckled awkwardly at their sweet words. You weren’t used to the attention they had been giving you at all.

As your mind raced with what the hell to do you eventually came up with something you hoped would work as an excuse to leave.

“ I need to go to Professor Crewel’s to uh… get some papers! I had volunteered to help after classes!” You exclaimed tearing yourself from the five men.

“ That’s fine I could escort you there and help _____ .”Riddle smiled with a tilt to his head as he stepped towards you.

“ I think they would prefer if a real man helped then shorty.” Ace smirked as he wrapped his arm around yours. Deuce then added onto the bickering as the dormhead had finally snapped before his vice could calm him. The two boys were collard as you told them you were leaving. You had never been happier that the two were rivals. “ I think they would prefer if a real man helped then shorty.” Ace smirked as he wrapped his arm around yours. Deuce then added onto the bickering as the dormhead had finally snapped before his vice could calm him. The two boys were collard as you told them you were leaving. You had never been happier that the two were rivals.

As you rushed down the hallway to inform the professor what was going on but you had been stopped by none other than the Infamous Leech twins. For Floyd had “squeezed” you tighter than normal smooshing you into his chest. He squealed with joy practically bouncing off the walls as he showed you off to his brother. Treating you as if you were nothing, but a new toy he had just gotten. His brothers childish actions made him chuckle as he tilted your head up with his oversized hand. “ I apologize on behalf of my brothers behavior. But it can’t be helped since he found such a beautiful little fish.” He proclaimed looking down on you as if you were going to be his prey.

“ But because my brother has inconvenienced you why don’t we go to the Monstrolounge and make it up to you?” He added on with a tilt to his head.

His brother nodded his head as they both looked at each other with sinister grins. Agreeing with his twin as you tried to speak up.

“ Wha…What are you going to do?” You hesitantly questioned and soon regretted. The two only looked at each other than back to you with a smirk. While you were smooshed between the two.

“ Well first were-“

” Jade! Floyd! we’ve been over this! Don’t crowd the poor soul.” Azul snapped at the two making the turn their heads.

“ Aww! But we were only playing with the shrimp right Jade?” Floyd pouted still holding onto you like a teddy bear.

His brother shakes his head with a fake tear in his eyes. The two continue to pout as you and Azuki battle them for your freedom of Floyd’s arms. Eventually the eel gets bored of holding you pretty much dropping you into Azuls unprepared embrace. Practically pouncing onto him as support while he scrambles to hold you. Making the two eels laugh at the both of you while landing into your butts.

“Jaaade I’m bored now let’s go!” Floyd moped as he tugged on his brother and him to go.

“Ow! Sorry Azul I really need to get going see you!” You rushed not even helping the poor octopus off the floor

“ This is going out of both your paychecks.” He seethed.

“…FUCK YOU I WORK HARDER THAN ANY OF THOSE ANNOYING SLUGS!” Floyd gasp flipping off the poor man still on the ground.

While the other twin only rolled his eyes before dragging the once again mopping eel with him.

You panted as you finally reached the entrance into Professer Crewels classroom practically slamming the door open. Startling the multicolored hair teacher as he jumped in his seat from you suddenly slamming the door.

“ Well are they ok…did something happen?” He questioned acknowledging your exhaustion from running.

“ Many….Many……gah things happened.” You gasped trying to catch your breath while questioning your cardio.

After giving a whole breakdown in a nutshell to the teacher he only sighed saying just what you thought. Ace had accidentally created a love potion. Specifically one used by the Beutiful Queen herself for it was a perfume that could practically seduce anyone into falling in love with them with only one whiff. The only way to break it was to kiss anyone influenced by the “perfume” but it had to be directly on the lips or else it wouldn’t work.

“So you’re telling me I now have to make out with… twenty two men in only a day? Wow I love the sound of that!” You sarcastically remorsed.

“Not make out! Just a simple little peck or as much as I hate saying this smooch on the lips.” He rolled his eyes at your exaggeration.

“…Wait how weren’t you effected?” You asked slowly backing up.

“…._____ I view you as my own child why would a potion meant for seduction made by the Queen want it to work on their parents?” He asked as you shrugged.

“….Incest?….Ye I’m gonna go…bye.” You said awkwardly walking out the door making the man regret viewing you as his own.

You are going to have a fun time with his huh?

Well that’s the end of this for now reblogs and commentary is very much appreciated!! I will make this a part two! So don’t worry

Hope you all enjoyed this are are having a wonderful Valentine’s if not then 💖💖💖💖 I SHALL VIRTUAL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU WANT BECAUSE YOU DESERVE IT!!!

Sincerely- Cup1dT3a ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[ceruleancattail]

Eels

Jade Leech x reader

Jade’s fingers were slender.

Clasping a needle within them, he jabbed lightly at the felt. Moving the silver needle swimmingly through the soft fabric, weaving small, neat stitches across it. He moved with effortless ease, rapidly making his way through the piece of cloth within his grip.

You watch his hands, enthralled by the precision of his every move. Calculated, even strokes of that thin needle in his hand, wielded with all the elegance of a rapier. Although it seemed to slow, after a while. You could hear a faint chuckle slipping out of Jade’s lips then.

Setting the cloth down, a finger reaches for your nose. Tapping it ever so lightly, sending a coolness into your skin. As you scrunch your nose up in protest, Jade does his best to stifle a laugh behind his hand. Goodness, you look adorable startled. However, as cute as you were, Jade can’t be the only one working on the plushies, unfortunately.

It was your idea, after nearly doubling over at the prices of the Aquarium souvenirs. Goodness, plush toys were rather expensive nowadays, weren’t they? Now, Jade wouldn’t have minded paying for your share, but you were insistent on making your own.

When Jade questioned you about this sudden… determination, your lips trembled ever so slightly. A faint tint of pink blooming to life on both of your cheeks. How curious… now, you do know he prides himself on being an informant of sorts for Octavinelle, hm?

Keep your little secrets away, love. Before he decides to pry them out of your pretty hands himself. Jade pokes and prods, arms wrapped around your torso. His chin on your shoulder, a low, velvety voice purring into your ear. Maybe he’ll have a nibble or two, if only to hear you yelp.

Why so stubborn, angelfish?

Wouldn’t you like to tell dear old Jade?

Hm?

Flushed fully scarlet, trapped in Jade’s loving, tight embrace, there wasn’t much choice for you. Cheeks burning red, you whisper back to Jade, voice tinged with embarrassment:

“There weren’t any moray eel plushies in that store… I wanted something to remind me of you.”

Now that was a surprise. How sweet of you, dearie, to think about him. Although it does make him a little sad. Why go so far to hug an eel, when he’s already here for you? How cruel of you.

To placate your drama-eel, you proposed making matching plushies. The little ones, connected to a small chain. To be carried around, a matched set. How romantic. Jade readily agreed then.

Although now, you seem a little too focused on him to work on your own plush. Gently guiding your hands towards your very own piece of felt, Jade nudges your palm into the soft material. He holds it there a little longer than necessary, but could you really blame him? You’re warm, delightfully so.

He could feel the beat of your heart press against his. Your pulse beating rapidly, combining with his very own. The rhythm of two hearts, blending into one smoothing melody. Pursing his lips, Jade hums a tune, soft and sweet.

Much like the gaze he gave you, a tender sight. Hopefully some of that warmth could be transferred into the heart of that plushie. So even when you weren’t around, Jade had something to hold. Something to keep his heart placated, until you came back. Until he could have you in his arms again.

“Come on, darling.” Jade pats your hand softly.

“The eel isn’t going to get seen by himself.”

He lifts up his own eel, felt as soft as the beach’s golden sand. Pushing it gently towards you, making it nuzzle into your cheek softly.

“You won’t want to leave plush me all alone now, would you?”

A rustle of cloth, as Jade leaned closer towards you. The ghost of his breath brushing against your cheek, far softer than any felt would ever be. You could feel the plush of his lips graze your skin ever so gently, moving with every word that slipped right pass his lips:

“I’ll be miserable without you to kiss, angelfish.”

[slow-motionlovepotion]

𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 | 𝒋.𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈:  boston era! joel miller x f!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.6k

𝒂/𝒏: i woke up at 5am this morning and smashed this out rather than working on any of my other numerous wips ~ no beta (or edit), we die like men - minors do not interact.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+ ~ sex work, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex (wrap it kids), slightly coercive behaviour, dirty talk (joel miller has a filthy mouth), creampie, mentions of drug dealing & murder (joel is a drug dealing murderer but that's canon so it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone), possessive!joel, kinda mean joel, joel is a tease, degrading language (whore, multiple times), idk i think that's everything

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: pleasure has a price and Joel is willing to pay whatever it takes to have you

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ⇢

Joel often heard talk from the other smugglers, of pretty girls that’d sink to their knees for a few ration cards or a couple of pills. He pretends not to, but he listens, acting like he couldn’t care less about their sordid activities. 

“What about you Miller? You don’t fancy a visit to one of our girls?” Some ratty 20-something asks one day. Joel just rolled his eyes.

“You really think I’d pay for some whore you’ve all had your dicks in?” His disgust is false, an act. In truth, he’s no better than them, couldn’t care less how many guys a woman has fucked before him. 

Besides he’s got Tess. 

Except now he doesn’t. Doesn’t have a warm body to sink into, to fuck his stress out on. She’d cut him off, rightfully so, when she implied she wanted more and he continued to offer her exactly the same. 

So when a comment is made in passing one night: “You hear Danny’s girls got into the whoring business?” His ears perk up. 

He knows Danny, knew Danny, before Danny was resting not entirely in peace. If you were to ever leave the QZ and see a guy who looks an awful lot like Danny but, say, had mushrooms for eyes, no you didn’t. 

Tess had been the one to deliver the bad news to you while Joel had stood uncomfortably in the hallway, listening to your broken sobs through the door. 

Maybe that’s why Joel finds himself knocking at your door, long after curfew, just returned from a run where he’d listened to those arseholes describe in great detail how they’d be paying you a visit, all while Joel kept his back to them, hiding the hardness in his jeans as he’d pictured what he’d do to you himself. He really was no better than them. 

“Joel Miller. To what do I owe this pleasure?” You smile but it’s tight and it doesn’t reach your eyes 

“Can I come in?” He asks like this is normal behaviour but that’s the Joel you know, always direct and to the point no matter how rude it comes across. Gritting your teeth you step back, allowing him into your apartment. 

“Nice place” he surveys your home, bathed in a soft pinkish light from the lamp next to your bed, a book discarded on the messy sheets. 

“What do you want Joel?” You try phrasing your question differently to get him to get to the point. You’re tired, it’s been a long day and Joel is not easy company. 

“I heard you’ve become a bit of an entrepreneur, started your own business” He raises a questioning eyebrow at you and you want to slink back to the shadows at his confrontation but you don’t, you stand firm, refusing to buckle under his stare. 

You’d expected word to travel faster, you’d started working about a month after Danny’s untimely demise, all of a sudden fending for yourself, no longer benefiting from the additional earnings afforded the smugglers. You’d tried to keep away from that business, only taking clients that you knew had no connection with the likes of Danny’s friends and Joel Miller but maybe you hadn’t been as careful as you’d thought. 

“Do you have a problem with that?” You challenge. It’s awfully rich of him, coming into your home and giving you his opinion on your job, like his line of work is any better. He’s nothing but a glorified drug dealer and a murderer. 

“Of course not. Why’d you think I’m here?" His tone is serious, this is not a social call, it’s business, your business. 

“I thought you were with Tess?” You ask, more so to give yourself time to actually take in what he’s saying, not because you have any issues providing your services to men of an entangled nature. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to ask questions” he shoots back

“I don’t, usually. Just looking out for myself, last thing I want is Tess comin’ around here thinking I fucked her man” 

Joel sighs, he’s not her man. Though he’s not surprised you would think that, people thought that before they started fucking and apparently still think that even after they’ve stopped. 

“You ain’t gotta worry about that darlin’” 

“Payment upfront” you concede and Joel nods, pulling a stack of ration cards out of his pocket. 

“What’ll this get me?” He places his payment on your kitchen table and you eye the stack, easily enough ration cards to keep you living comfortably for months. 

“Whatever you want” you say, you’ve done this for much less. But had you not been enticed by the thick wad of cards, you might’ve reconsidered that offer considering everything you know about Joel.

He thinks it over, dropping heavily into the corner of your sofa, one foot on the floor, the other muddying the already stained fabric. 

“C'mere” he commands and when you’re close enough he points to the other end of the sofa “Facin’ me” 

You sit, bringing your knees up to your chest, your t-shirt does nothing to cover your modesty but your shins are blocking the view Joel really wants. 

“Spread those legs darlin’, show me what I’m payin for” he tilts his head expectantly. 

You spread your knees, keeping one leg bent and dropping the other to the floor, your new position almost a mirror of Joel’s. You know he wants more, reaching down you pull the scrap of lace to the side, exposing yourself to his gaze. 

He lets out a groan at the sight of you, cunt glistening despite the fact he’s not even touched you yet. 

“Pretty girl” he breathes. His eyes flick to his offering on the table “Whatever I want?” He confirms and you nod “Ah-ah, words darlin’. I wanna hear you” 

“Yes Joel, whatever you want” his hand flexes on his thigh and you can see the growing hardness in his jeans. 

“Take it off” his command gives you some idea of how this is going to go, he’s going to tell you what to do, and you’re going to do it. 

Your hands find the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips, slipping them down your legs and when you reach your ankles Joel holds his hand out, smirking when you drop the fabric into his waiting hand. 

“And the rest darlin’” You pull your t-shirt over your head, revealing yourself to be bare underneath. The t-shirt drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you lean back, returning to your position, legs spread and on show for him.

Your fingers automatically slide between your legs, spreading your wetness up to your clit, circling the bundle gently. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you, hands quickly working at his belt and jeans, freeing his length with a relieved sigh. 

Thick fingers wrap around his even thicker cock and it’s like your own personal fantasy, Joel Miller thrusting into his fist, just for you.

You increase the pressure on your clit but keep your pace slow, teasing. It’s a dangerous game to play, acting without instruction but while Joel is watching you with heavy eyes and he’s not telling you to stop, you continue, dipping your fingers into your cunt, bringing them up to show him the wetness coating your fingers. 

He doesn’t stop you when you return your fingers to your clit, doesn’t stop you when you pick up the pace or when your breathing starts getting harder. 

In fact he puts on his own show, spitting into his palm and picking up his own pace, twisting his hand over the head, his free hand tracing abstract patterns over his thigh. 

You could get off like this, you’re going to get off like this, legs tensing and core tightening. A gasp gets caught in your throat as your orgasm builds, almost there, and then it’s gone. 

A growl rumbles in Joel’s chest when his hand grabs your ankle and you’re pulled flat on your back. He’s hovering over you, hand pinning both of yours above your head, your thighs hooked over his. 

“Not gonna come on your fingers” he pants by way of explanation, pushing the tip of his cock between your soaked folds, catching your clit and nudging at the entrance to your cunt. “Gonna come on my cock” 

Joel buries himself to the hilt inside you with a sharp thrust, the stretch is so satisfying it sends a shudder up your spine that has your back arching and your hips tilting down into his, desperate to feel the ache that comes with being too full.

“Look at that, got my entire cock buried in you and you still want more” Joel taunts you, his arm slipping under the arch in your back as he withdraws and pushes back in again. 

“Joel” you gasp as he fucks into you, pulling you down to meet his thrusts. His pace is unrelenting, thick cock dragging against your walls, the slight curve catching just right on that spot inside you that makes your thighs shake and your head go foggy. 

“Say it again darlin’” it comes out as a snarl but there’s a hint of a plea in there. 

“Fuck Joel, oh yes just like that” you push yourself further into him, his arm tightening to keep you there. 

Your shoulders burn and your fingers are going numb with the restricting grip of Joel’s hand around your wrists. It’s intimate, too intimate, Joel’s breath hot on your face and his entire body flush against yours. Joel must think so too because he pulls out, hand around your waist flipping you over so your face is pushed into the cushions and your hips are raised. Before you can even catch your breath he’s forcing himself back into you.

“Fuck, so tight. Especially for a whore” you don’t expect your cunt to clench at that and Joel definitely doesn’t expect it either. He lets out a shocked laugh “You like that? Being called a whore?” He pulls out and slides back in, the action and his question pulling a sinful moan from you. 

His pace from this angle isn’t so unrelenting but it’s harder and deeper, his hips and thighs flush against yours as he bottoms out, pulling out so you can just feel him resting at your entrance, so you feel the stretch of every thrust, over and over and over again. 

“Such a whore, letting anyone fuck this cunt for a couple ration cards” his hand grabs your hair, tugging so your back is pressed to his chest and his arm wraps around your waist, thumb flicking over your sensitive nipple. The hand in your hair pulls, turning you to face towards the table and his payment “My whore now. Those cards should be plenty enough that you don’t need to do this with anyone else” 

Like this, his cock nudges that spot inside you again and this time you cry out, ragged moans falling from your lips with every snap of his hips. And his words, god his words, wash over you like a too hot shower burning your skin. 

“All mine, just for me. Not gonna let anyone else touch you” You don’t realise that’s a question until you feel a sharp smack to your rear. “Tell me you’re not gonna let anyone else touch you”

“Not gonna” you shake your head as you speak “only you” 

“Tha’s my girl” he murmurs and oh you like that, the idea of being Joel’s girl, being the one he spends his nights buried inside. 

“Yes, your girl, just for you” His mouth is on your neck and he bites down as you speak, sucking bruises onto your skin. 

If it was anyone else you’d tell them to stop, no one wants a whore marked by another man but he owns you now so you let him. Hand reaching up to grab his hair, keeping his mouth on you, giving him permission. 

His free hand works its way between your legs, flicking your clit with practised fingers and you’re suddenly right on the edge, release within reach, you just need a little bit more. As if Joel can sense exactly what you need his mouth breaks from your neck and his lips find your ear 

“Is my whore gonna come for me?” He teases, pulling a frantic litany of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ from you. “C’mon then” 

The waves that had been steadily building crash over you, shaking violently as your cunt tightens and flutters around his cock, pulling him in deeper. Light bursts behind your eyes and your hands claw at his arm keeping you upright, nails biting into his skin. You don’t hear the scream you let out but you feel it burning in your chest and your throat. Your ears are ringing, muffling the sound of Joel talking you through it. 

When you finally return to yourself Joel is still thrusting into you, your head resting heavily on his shoulder behind you.

“Gonna come in this cunt, fill you up” that snaps you back to reality 

“No. Joel you can’t- can’t do that” you panic slightly, wanting to push him away but he’s too strong, grip too tight.

And really, if you’re being entirely honest, you don’t actually want to push him away, you want to take what he gives you but it’s unrealistic and you can’t let yourself want that. 

“Yeah I can, you’re mine now. Or have you forgotten already?” You shake your head, no you haven’t forgotten but no he still can’t come inside you “don’t worry’ll get you the mornin’ after pill” 

His words are slurred and his thrusts are losing rhythm and you realise he’s holding back, waiting for you to say yes. His arm around you squeezes in warning and you can feel him tense behind you. This is it, the ultimate trust exercise and it’s now or never. Your hand entangles with his around your waist and you nod. 

“Fuck, yeah. Want it, wanna feel you fill me” His fingers tighten under yours and he picks up speed, fucking into you sloppily and panting against your temple. 

With a final thrust and a groan you can feel in your own chest Joel spills into you, holding himself so deep it’s painful, ‘Property of Joel Miller’ branded on your walls with every drop of his release. 

“So good, so fuckin’ good f’me” he breathes hot into your ear, hips twitching as he comes down from his high. He doesn’t let you go straight away, naked frame held tight against his fully clothed one. You untangle your hand from his when your legs start to ache, knees protesting as they dig into the well worn sofa, slumping forward when Joel finally releases you. 

Your body is exhausted, eyes heavy and stinging with the effort of keeping them open. Joel’s up and redressed before you even think about reaching for your t-shirt, uncaring as you lay naked on your sofa, marked body on display for him. 

Joel’s calloused fingers trace the blossoming bruises that litter your neck and shoulders, his touch surprisingly tender. His hands find yours and help you up so you’re sitting, holding your t-shirt out to slip into, the marks on your neck are visible above the neckline of your shirt and a dark sense of pride washes over him.

“I meant what I said, enough cards there to keep you comfortable for a while, don’t wanna hear you’ve been whoring yourself out again” His confession takes you by surprise, you honestly hadn’t thought he meant it, men say all sorts of things in the throes of passion, you’d know.

The realisation sends a shiver down your spine, you’re his girl now and you don't mind that one bit, the kept woman of Joel Miller.

𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[suiseisyojo]

Hello! I absolutely adore your TWST love potion HCs and I'd love it if you did one for Idia too!

a/n: thank you so much, i'm so happy you like them! i'm sorry this is a little belated, i've had idia's segment done for the longest time but i felt awkward only uploading 1 character LOL but i hope this was worth the wait, and that you enjoy! thanks for requesting!♪

「idia shroud, silver x gn!reader」 ↳ in which you accidentally drink a love potion and fall for the one who’s always harbored unrequited feelings for you. [parts 1 + 2] cw: angst, suggestive themes (all), reader is based off hen wen (silver)

[idia shroud]

Everyone knew how difficult it was to befriend Idia—an introverted, pessimistic shut-in with no social awareness—and yet, you found yourself on amiable terms with him. The two of you bonded over your mutual love for 〈Precipice Moirai〉. You confided in Idia about how their music aided you in troubling times, and your relationship began to blossom deeper and deeper from then onwards.

But Idia's feelings for you were much more profound, severing the border between 'like' and 'love'. Ortho was aware of these feelings Idia possessed, encouraging him to be open with you; yet Idia would always, always refute, ”There’s no way they’d love someone like me. If I ever confessed, I can hear the way they’d say, ‘Ew, why would I date a walking corpse like him?’!!”.

And so, when you had accidentally consumed a love potion and began lavishing heaps of affection onto him, him of all people!, Idia was at a complete loss on what to do. "Idia-san, I'm going crazy. I need you, my heart is on fire because of you," you softly spoke to him, fingers grasping his sweater.

Ortho giggled at the sight of you cooing at him, before letting it slip that Idia loved you. "Isn't this great, Nii-san? [Name]-san's heart rate is 114 beats per minute, all from looking at you! They must love you, too!" Oh no, oh no, oh no⋯ Ortho, no!

“Aah! I can’t believe Ortho outed me like that⋯!!” Idia lamented, his scorching cheeks hidden behind overly long sleeves of his sweater. Thanks to his little brother admitting to you that Idia’s always harbored feelings for you, you were even more obdurate on receiving his affections while under the love potion’s influence. “Huh? It’s fine? No way is that true!”

In the first place, having you on his bed like this was enough to make him faint, now let alone having you try to make advances towards him! Isn’t all of this happening too fast? It’s as if the writers in a romance visual novel didn’t care enough to develop the relationship past the four bullet points in the reveal trailer!!

Anxiety and heat swirled in his mind and left him overburdened by his own pessimistic thoughts, mourning his existence with you before it even began. Your hand coiled around his wrist, bringing his hand down away from concealing his countenance from you.

Breathlessly, Idia stared at you with wide-eyes, “Eh? What is it?” He looked mortified beyond his normal scope, and it made your heart squeeze. The palms of your hands smoothed over his cheeks, feeling how he trembled beneath you.

“Put on some Premo?” Repeating the words back to you, Idia realized why you suddenly had such a request. To make him feel more comfortable, to settle his unease with your shared love of the idol unit. “⋯ I guess that would help.”

Idia got up from the bed and sauntered over to his computer, where he put on your favorite album. Unconsciously, he did so—he thought of you as if it was second-nature. Can’t he just stay here at his desk? Why did you have to be so insistent on being close? Okay, it was the heightened effects from the love potion, but still.

You were killing his heart! Inhaling shakily, Idia begrudgingly climbed back onto the bed as you pleaded oh so sweetly to him. His heavy breaths scorched his lips as it spilled out, and he froze when you wrapped your arms around him.

“Now It’s too hot? Well, that’s what happens when you snuggle up close to someone like me!” Idia sobbed, only for pure, unadulterated panic to suffuse through the fissures of his body as your fingers hooked around the hem of your shirt. “LEAVE IT ON, PLEASE!”

The faint sound of incoherent mumbling could be heard, as Idia senselessly babbled, “I-I didn’t think I’d unlock an H scene!” under his breath.

Overlaying his panting was your beloved idol unit, and Idia was on the verge of tears as he watched you come closer and closer to him. Your first kiss with Idia was underscored by your all-time favorite song. The song that even brought your path to his.

Idia melted into you as your mouth rounded with his, the heat from your mingling breaths sending a frisson of excitement down your spines. Deep in his chest was guilt, a dreaded sensation he was all too familiar with.

A mixture of worry and titillation coated his insides—what if you hated him after this? He only just worked up the courage to talk to you first without being prompted!!

“You’re going to be the death of me, [Name]-shi; I’m falling for deeper seeing you like this-!!”

[silver]

Your relationship with Silver had always been extremely close—in fact, many people were stupefied to find out you two weren't dating and remained friends. You retained potent oracle powers, your magic bestowing you the ability to see into the future. And most of the time, you used the aforementioned ability to predict when and where Silver would fall asleep; so that you may catch him in time, or be prepared to wake him up should he sleep too long and miss a class or event.

It didn't help that the two of you would often be caught cuddling together, your arms and legs tangled with one another as you shared your heat. Silver had never experienced love until he met and fell for you, and even as those feelings flourished in his chest, he never once put that pressure on your relationship. He kept all the words he wished to say, and the feelings, hidden away.

When word got out that you had ingested a love potion, whether accidental or not, Silver vowed to continue being your knight and stay staunchly by your side in order to protect you. And things would've been perfectly fine if the words "I love you, Silver" hadn't spilled from your pretty, entrancing lips.

As his heart stopped in his chest, Silver ran. His legs carried him far away before his mind could process a single thing, and he couldn't tell if that was for you his sake⋯ or yours.

Fluttering his eyes open, the sensation of soft lashes dusting across skin distant, Silver’s weariness exacerbated as his vision was enveloped with your prepossessing countenance in propinquity to his own. “[Name]⋯?” he inquired indolently, bewildered by the sight before him.

Your body hovered above his as you pinned him down further onto the couch he rested upon, the spates of warmth emanating from your skin seeping into him; in a way that didn’t beguile him into slumber or serenity, but another kind of excitement. 

“You knew I would be napping here so you looked for me?” Silver found himself sighing as he heard your words, a pathetic attempt to placate his titillation, before latching his hands onto your hips. “Never mind that, you should get off me.”

With ease, Silver dug his fingers rougher into your hips as he lifted you up; shifting himself upwards with hasty movements so as to be sedentary. The reason he was tucked away in a spot aberrant for him, occluded from view, was precisely because he was avoiding you.

The harrow of receiving your distorted heart was too much to bear—he didn’t want to do something shameful, something unbecoming of a knight-to-be. Yet your obstinacy towards clinging onto him was alluring all the same, like a gleaming spindle meant to tantalize and corrupt.

It made Silver’s head spin.

“I see that the love potion hasn’t worn off yet⋯ if you can predict the future, wouldn’t you have known if that drink you accepted was poisoned or not?” Silver, of all people, knew that your powers weren’t that easy to manipulate or control.

Ever since Silver was a little boy, he’d always dreamed of falling in love like that of a fairytale. When Lilia would swathe him in abundant blankets as they snuggled together in bed, utilizing his magic to resplendently illuminate the room along with fantastical and whimsical stories. ‘Will I find someone like the prince did?’ Silver remembers asking his father, a string of giggles overflowing from his lips as Lilia tickled his sides, ‘My fated person?’.

If this was a fairytale, true love’s kiss would break the egregious spell holding you captive—but as your lips feverishly met with his, Silver realized he wasn’t your prince; for no prince would so greedily taste your lip-gloss on your teeth while he deepened these incessant kisses.

“Yeah, you’re my fated one, [Name]. Let me show you how I’ve always dreamed of having you.”

[starlitsawamura]

◟♡ ˒ POPSTAR!READER x BODYGUARD!ATSUMU

content warnings : explicit — secret relationship, praise, reader is called pretty girl & good girl, and jealous atsumu. word count : 0.6k | nsfw content ahead, eighteen plus only!

You loved meeting your fans and receiving all their letters and gifts. It was lost on you how you’d come to live in a reality where so many looked up to and adored you. But you tried to give back as much as you could, in ways you felt it mattered.

But Atsumu, while you were chatting up a storm, had to watch when one of them put their arms around you and hugged you a little too intimately for his liking. He’d caught a couple of them trying to eye him discreetly; seeing if they could get away with putting their hands too close to certain areas of your body. But when they’d meet eyes with him, the piercing glare they got in return always made the fan retreat back into their shell.

You were blissfully unaware every time and Atsumu believed that needed to change. Sure, the two am rendezvouses you and he shared were probably the most well-kept secret in the world. Despite the random Twitter theories about the two of you that circulated every few months. And as a widely known star, he’d never jeopardise the privacy of that or your good name, by acting out in public. He was more professional than that. At least that’s what he had to silently repeat to himself every time a fan got brave. But sometimes he caught himself wanting to leave marks, just to make it clear you were no one’s but his.

“‘Tsumu they could catch us,” you were white-knuckled, gripping the bathroom sink.

His chest was pressed up against your back, hand between your legs. He slipped it into your panties, rubbing soft circles into your clit as he pressed kisses into your neck. His other hand was next to yours on the sink, keeping you caged against his body.

You were wet and Atsumu collected it on his fingers so they’d slide around without resistance. He ate up all your little whimpers.

“Let them.” He kept a steady pace and the wetter you got, the harder he became.

He knew he couldn’t fuck you in this bathroom, no matter how badly he wanted to. He’d just have to wait til you were back on the road. But for now, he was fine just touching you, leaving you a needy mess for later. Because he knew you’d be coming to him for help and no one else.

“F-fuck,” you whispered, melting into him as your limbs gave way. “What’s gotten into you?”

“They’ve always got their hands on you,” Atsumu whined against your neck. “But you’re mine.”

You were his and it was something that slipped your mind while you were working. You didn’t mean to forget, you were just so focused on keeping the secret so he stayed protected. Your job demanded a lot of you and privacy was a blessing. Keeping him to yourself was your way of keeping him safe. Atsumu knew that but it meant keeping affection for private spaces, which was hard for both of you.

He put more pressure on your clit and nibbled at your skin. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

You weren’t one to deny him and in seconds you were unraveling in his grasp. Breathless profanities spilled from your mouth as you gripped the sink for dear life. The strength drained from your limbs and Atsumu had to keep you upright. He sucked his fingers dry and then switched your positions, using the sink to support himself as he took on your weight.

He rubbed your back while you caught your breath, leaving soft kisses on your forehead.

“Good girl.”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, softly slapping his chest.

Atsumu smirked, “I don’t see you cumming on anyone else’s fingers.”

“You cocky fuck.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He tilted your chin up and kissed you. “But I have every right to be when it’s you, beautiful.”

author’s note : might make a bodyguard au series cause this has so many tasty scenarios that my brain is dying to write.

© starlitsawamura ! do not repost outside of tumblr. do not steal or translate my work. for the love of all things unholy, do not share my work on tiktok or wattpad.