forest-meadow

[forest-meadow]

Thank you so much!!

Drinks and Confessions

Shinso x Bakugou x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: cursing

@pearl-blue-musings I figured you'd want to read it lolz

The three of you hanging out and having drinks wasn’t so uncommon. What was uncommon was Katsuki drinking as much as he did that night.

“You wanna slow down there?” Hitoshi asked him.

Katsuki glared at his boyfriend and downed the rest of his second drink.

Hitoshi put his hands up in surrender.

You returned to your living room with a bottle of your favorite wine, a bottle of Hitoshi’s, and two wine glasses, “Geez, Suki, you have a rough day or something?” you ask as you settle on the floor across the coffee table from them.

“Something like that,” he gruffs.

You shrug, open Hitoshi’s bottle of wine, and pour him a generous glass before handing it to him.

“Thanks, kitten.”

Again, nothing uncommon, but recently the pet name he had for you had started making you feel hot at the collar.

“I need another drink.”

“Get some water first, Kats,” Hitoshi ordered.

“Fuck off,” Katsuki flipped him the bird to really nail down his point.

You watched the blond as he waltzed into your kitchen like he owned it, which he technically did, since he often paid your rent without your asking or permission, and poured himself another glass of whiskey, “What’s got his panties in a twist?” you asked Hitoshi.

“He’s nervous,” he said into his wine glass before taking a long drink of wine.

You snorted, “Katsuki? Nervous? About what? He’s only ever nervous around All Might and emotional things.”

Hitoshi chuckled as the man in question rejoined the two of you and dropped into his place beside his lover. The purple haired man draped his legs across Katsuki’s. You noticed his hands remained on his lap and away from Hitoshi’s calves where they would usually rest. His palms must be sweaty, you realized. He only kept his hands to himself in private like this when his palms were sweating. Maybe he really was nervous.

“So, though you��re both welcome whenever you want, you don’t usually show up unannounced. What can I do for ya?” you asked the pair.

You noticed Katsuki stare at you with more intensity than he usually did. It made you feel things in forbidden places. You felt your neck heat up even more under his gaze.

“No reason in particular. Just had a long day at work and wanted to see our girl,” Hitoshi watched you with a careful eye, making sure not to stare too long to draw your attention, but making sure to catalog all of your reactions.

Katsuki smirked as he saw you shift in your seat on the floor.

“Our girl,” Hitoshi had said. How you would love to be their girl. You’d had a crush on the both of them for years now, ever since you saw them on the tv for their first sports festival in your living room.

You weren’t a hero by any means, rather a barista at the cafe Hitoshi frequented. When you saw him the first time he came in during your shift, you didn’t know what to do at first, with yourself or towards him. But you realized he was a person, so you treated him with the kindness and civility you would any other customer. He seemed slightly surprised, as it was pretty obvious you had recognized him, underground hero or not.

“Can I get a name for the order?” you asked him with a smile.

“Er, Shinso,” he said.

Your smile broadened, “It’s nice to meet you, Shinso. I’m Y/N.”

He left a $20 tip in your jar that day. 

Katsuki you didn’t meet until a few weeks after. They had come in holding hands and while you were elated that the both of them had found someone, you couldn’t help the disappointment that sank into your stomach.

“Let me guess,” you had said, “This is who you buy all those caramel macchiatos for?”

Shinso gave a wry smile, “How’d you guess?”

You shrugged, “You seem more like the black coffee kinda guy.”

He had nodded, “Can we get your number? We’d love to hang out sometime,” wouldn’t we, Tsuki?”

Bakugou had rolled his eyes, you didn’t know him well enough to tell if it was playful or not, “Whatever.”

“That’s as close as we’ll get to a yes, I’m afraid,” Shinso said.

You chuckled, “I’ll out my number on your cup for you.”

“Thanks, kitten.”

You hurried behind the espresso machines to hide your flusteredness.

That had been three years ago. By now, the three of you were thick as thieves and you knew them like the back of your hand.

You took a drink from your glass. You knew better than to ask them about work. If they wanted to share or felt it was something you needed to know, you would already be talking about it.

Katsuki finished the rest of his third drink and went to get up for a fourth. Hitoshi deftly pulled the glass out of his hand as he stood to which Katsuki glared at him.

“I’m a big boy, Hitoshi. I know my limit.”

“When’s the last time you ate, big boy?” you asked from your place on the floor.

Katsuki turned his glare to you, “Nobody asked you, sweets.”

You snorted and returned the glare, “I wasn’t aware I had to be invited to a conversation between the two of you now.”

“You don’t,” Hitoshi said firmly, “Kats. A tall glass of water, then you can have another drink. Please and thank you.”

Katsuki grunted and went to the kitchen, getting himself a tall glass of water like he was instructed, and a snack to top it off.

“When’s the last time you went to the shops, sweets?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Been a while. Why?”

“You’ve just got junk,” he complained.

You shrugged again, “When money’s tight, you get what’s cheap and easy, not what’s healthy. But you wouldn’t know about that.” you were still bitter about his comment from a minute ago.

Hitoshi looked to the heavens as you finished your first glass of wine. He knew you didn’t need the alcohol to keep Katsuki on his toes like this.

“You could just ask,” Katuski brought his glass of water with him as he returned to his seat and popped a piece of kettle corn in his mouth and chewed.

“You know I hate asking for that sort of thing from you, Tsuki,” you said as you poured yourself a second generous glass of wine.

“Why not? I like taking care of you,” he said, then amended, “We like taking care of you.”

Hitoshi ran a hand down his face, “See, this is why you should have quit while you were ahead, Katsuki.”

You looked between the two of them, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means we like ya, sweets,” Katsuki said.

“Well yeah I assumed as much or we wouldn’t be here?” you were beyond confused at this point, if not a tiny bit hopeful that this meant what you hoped it meant.

“No, like, we-” Katsuki ran a hand down his face with a groan, “Toshi, you take over.”

“With pleasure,” the purple haired man said. 

You watched cautiously as Hitoshi swung his legs off of Katsuki’s lap, set his half empty glass down, and faced you fully as he folded his hands together.

“Y/N.”

Oh gods. He used your name. Not “Kitten” or some other cutesy name he would sometimes use to get you flustered. But your name.

“Hitoshi?” you were beyond nervous now.

“Katsuki and I have done a lot of talking lately,” he said.

Oh gods. They were going to leave you. They didn’t want you in their life anymore. They-

“We wanted to extend the invitation to join our relationship to you,” Hitoshi said plainly.

You choked on air.

“You what?”

Katsuki groaned, “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Shut up, Tsuki, that’s not what I meant,” you snapped at him.

His attention snapped to you, “It isn’t?” he said it more like a statement than a question.

“No. I meant it as in I’ve had a stupid school girl crush on the both of you since I first saw you on tv for your first sports festival and it’s only gotten worse since the two of you have come into my life and this feels like I’m dreaming,” you ramnbled.

Hitoshi smirked at his boyfriend, “Fuckin’ told you.”

“Shut up, lavender.”

“So?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “This isn’t a dream?”

“Not a dream, kitten. We want you to be ours. Officially. Since you’re too fuckin polite to pick up on any hints we tried to drop you,” Hitoshi chuckled.

You grinned, “I didn’t want to butt in where I wasn’t wanted.”

“Believe me sweets, you’re more than wanted, “ Katsuki said, his gaze darkening a little.

Hitoshi nudged him, “Later, Tsuki. We don’t want to overwhelm her.”

You laughed, “Oh my god this is real. Holy shit.”

“Real as I am,” Hitoshi reassured. “So what do you say, kitten?”

“Yes!”

[forest-meadow]

Drinks and Confessions

Shinso x Bakugou x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: cursing

@pearl-blue-musings I figured you'd want to read it lolz

The three of you hanging out and having drinks wasn’t so uncommon. What was uncommon was Katsuki drinking as much as he did that night.

“You wanna slow down there?” Hitoshi asked him.

Katsuki glared at his boyfriend and downed the rest of his second drink.

Hitoshi put his hands up in surrender.

You returned to your living room with a bottle of your favorite wine, a bottle of Hitoshi’s, and two wine glasses, “Geez, Suki, you have a rough day or something?” you ask as you settle on the floor across the coffee table from them.

“Something like that,” he gruffs.

You shrug, open Hitoshi’s bottle of wine, and pour him a generous glass before handing it to him.

“Thanks, kitten.”

Again, nothing uncommon, but recently the pet name he had for you had started making you feel hot at the collar.

“I need another drink.”

“Get some water first, Kats,” Hitoshi ordered.

“Fuck off,” Katsuki flipped him the bird to really nail down his point.

You watched the blond as he waltzed into your kitchen like he owned it, which he technically did, since he often paid your rent without your asking or permission, and poured himself another glass of whiskey, “What’s got his panties in a twist?” you asked Hitoshi.

“He’s nervous,” he said into his wine glass before taking a long drink of wine.

You snorted, “Katsuki? Nervous? About what? He’s only ever nervous around All Might and emotional things.”

Hitoshi chuckled as the man in question rejoined the two of you and dropped into his place beside his lover. The purple haired man draped his legs across Katsuki’s. You noticed his hands remained on his lap and away from Hitoshi’s calves where they would usually rest. His palms must be sweaty, you realized. He only kept his hands to himself in private like this when his palms were sweating. Maybe he really was nervous.

“So, though you’re both welcome whenever you want, you don’t usually show up unannounced. What can I do for ya?” you asked the pair.

You noticed Katsuki stare at you with more intensity than he usually did. It made you feel things in forbidden places. You felt your neck heat up even more under his gaze.

“No reason in particular. Just had a long day at work and wanted to see our girl,” Hitoshi watched you with a careful eye, making sure not to stare too long to draw your attention, but making sure to catalog all of your reactions.

Katsuki smirked as he saw you shift in your seat on the floor.

“Our girl,” Hitoshi had said. How you would love to be their girl. You’d had a crush on the both of them for years now, ever since you saw them on the tv for their first sports festival in your living room.

You weren’t a hero by any means, rather a barista at the cafe Hitoshi frequented. When you saw him the first time he came in during your shift, you didn’t know what to do at first, with yourself or towards him. But you realized he was a person, so you treated him with the kindness and civility you would any other customer. He seemed slightly surprised, as it was pretty obvious you had recognized him, underground hero or not.

“Can I get a name for the order?” you asked him with a smile.

“Er, Shinso,” he said.

Your smile broadened, “It’s nice to meet you, Shinso. I’m Y/N.”

He left a $20 tip in your jar that day. 

Katsuki you didn’t meet until a few weeks after. They had come in holding hands and while you were elated that the both of them had found someone, you couldn’t help the disappointment that sank into your stomach.

“Let me guess,” you had said, “This is who you buy all those caramel macchiatos for?”

Shinso gave a wry smile, “How’d you guess?”

You shrugged, “You seem more like the black coffee kinda guy.”

He had nodded, “Can we get your number? We’d love to hang out sometime,” wouldn’t we, Tsuki?”

Bakugou had rolled his eyes, you didn’t know him well enough to tell if it was playful or not, “Whatever.”

“That’s as close as we’ll get to a yes, I’m afraid,” Shinso said.

You chuckled, “I’ll out my number on your cup for you.”

“Thanks, kitten.”

You hurried behind the espresso machines to hide your flusteredness.

That had been three years ago. By now, the three of you were thick as thieves and you knew them like the back of your hand.

You took a drink from your glass. You knew better than to ask them about work. If they wanted to share or felt it was something you needed to know, you would already be talking about it.

Katsuki finished the rest of his third drink and went to get up for a fourth. Hitoshi deftly pulled the glass out of his hand as he stood to which Katsuki glared at him.

“I’m a big boy, Hitoshi. I know my limit.”

“When’s the last time you ate, big boy?” you asked from your place on the floor.

Katsuki turned his glare to you, “Nobody asked you, sweets.”

You snorted and returned the glare, “I wasn’t aware I had to be invited to a conversation between the two of you now.”

“You don’t,” Hitoshi said firmly, “Kats. A tall glass of water, then you can have another drink. Please and thank you.”

Katsuki grunted and went to the kitchen, getting himself a tall glass of water like he was instructed, and a snack to top it off.

“When’s the last time you went to the shops, sweets?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Been a while. Why?”

“You’ve just got junk,” he complained.

You shrugged again, “When money’s tight, you get what’s cheap and easy, not what’s healthy. But you wouldn’t know about that.” you were still bitter about his comment from a minute ago.

Hitoshi looked to the heavens as you finished your first glass of wine. He knew you didn’t need the alcohol to keep Katsuki on his toes like this.

“You could just ask,” Katuski brought his glass of water with him as he returned to his seat and popped a piece of kettle corn in his mouth and chewed.

“You know I hate asking for that sort of thing from you, Tsuki,” you said as you poured yourself a second generous glass of wine.

“Why not? I like taking care of you,” he said, then amended, “We like taking care of you.”

Hitoshi ran a hand down his face, “See, this is why you should have quit while you were ahead, Katsuki.”

You looked between the two of them, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means we like ya, sweets,” Katsuki said.

“Well yeah I assumed as much or we wouldn’t be here?” you were beyond confused at this point, if not a tiny bit hopeful that this meant what you hoped it meant.

“No, like, we-” Katsuki ran a hand down his face with a groan, “Toshi, you take over.”

“With pleasure,” the purple haired man said. 

You watched cautiously as Hitoshi swung his legs off of Katsuki’s lap, set his half empty glass down, and faced you fully as he folded his hands together.

“Y/N.”

Oh gods. He used your name. Not “Kitten” or some other cutesy name he would sometimes use to get you flustered. But your name.

“Hitoshi?” you were beyond nervous now.

“Katsuki and I have done a lot of talking lately,” he said.

Oh gods. They were going to leave you. They didn’t want you in their life anymore. They-

“We wanted to extend the invitation to join our relationship to you,” Hitoshi said plainly.

You choked on air.

“You what?”

Katsuki groaned, “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Shut up, Tsuki, that’s not what I meant,” you snapped at him.

His attention snapped to you, “It isn’t?” he said it more like a statement than a question.

“No. I meant it as in I’ve had a stupid school girl crush on the both of you since I first saw you on tv for your first sports festival and it’s only gotten worse since the two of you have come into my life and this feels like I’m dreaming,” you ramnbled.

Hitoshi smirked at his boyfriend, “Fuckin’ told you.”

“Shut up, lavender.”

“So?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “This isn’t a dream?”

“Not a dream, kitten. We want you to be ours. Officially. Since you’re too fuckin polite to pick up on any hints we tried to drop you,” Hitoshi chuckled.

You grinned, “I didn’t want to butt in where I wasn’t wanted.”

“Believe me sweets, you’re more than wanted, “ Katsuki said, his gaze darkening a little.

Hitoshi nudged him, “Later, Tsuki. We don’t want to overwhelm her.”

You laughed, “Oh my god this is real. Holy shit.”

“Real as I am,” Hitoshi reassured. “So what do you say, kitten?”

“Yes!”

[forest-meadow]

Ellie I loved everything about both of these omg

I would love to see what you think bakugou/shinso/astarions drunken confession would look like 👀👀👀👀

Also if you do shinso or bakugou, could you do a ShinBaku polyship pls 👀🥰

Thank you I love you

!!!!! Yes yes yes yes yes yes

Astarion

Your team had another successful raid and now you’re all celebrating by the fire. The drinks are flowing and Astarion has more than indulged himself. You also were partaking in some but not as much as the sassy vampire. You smile as he goes on and on about parts of his past, arguing with the others about former quests, before someone suggested more games and music.

The music was uplifting and Astarion was seen clapping along, something that made you laugh. He turns his attention toward you, goblet swishing with wine as he stumbles toward you. “And just what the hell is so funny?”

You laugh some more, unsure why his drunk and flustered state tickles you so much. You try to hold back your laughter, but his stumbling and hunched over state makes you laugh more. “I-I’m sorry,” you giggle, “it’s just-“

“Bloody hell,” he exasperates, “if I wasn’t so smitten with you, y-you’d be mince meat.”

That causes you to almost drop your drink. It’s clear he’s unaware of what he’s said as he sits next to you on the log. You can’t help the blush that rises to your cheeks as he gets closer and closer. “You are so cute like this,” he whispers, leaning into you. “But I think I’m gonna vomit.”

Hopefully, when he’s sober you’ll tell him you actually reciprocate his feelings.

Shinsou/Bakugou

The hero rankings were just announced and all of your former classmates decided to throw a party. Your friend Bakugou had finally broken into the top three and your other best friend Shinsou into the top 20. You’re super excited and happy for all of them, but especially those two. They’ve always been special to you, and unbeknownst to you they feel the same way.

So maybe this would be the night you finally tell them.

Sure, dating two people, let alone heroes, at the same time seems selfish and preposterous. But you have so much love to share and god damnit they deserve the world. For most of the time, you’re by yourself as you become a wallflower. It’s nice to see everyone happy and enjoying themselves.

��Is there a reason you’re by yourself?”

You yelp slightly, turning dizzily toward locks of purple. You smile softly and raise your glass to him. “Congrats on your new ranking, Toshi,” you slur, “‘m so proud of you.”

He chuckles and clinks your glass. “Alright, you’ve had too much,” he declares. “Now give it here.” You pout as Shinsou takes your glass and he giggles.

“No,” you groan, “how am I supposed to have the courage to tell you how I feel?”

Deep lilac eyebrows raise quizzically as Shinsou puts a safe hand around your waist. “Tell me more, kitten.”

You nod and search the party for the eccentric blond, who seems to be making his way toward the pair of you. “Yeah,” you mumble, “was supposed to tell you and Suki over there how much I’ve loved ‘n cared for you. But now I can’t.”

You almost start to cry, Shinsou trying his best to keep it together as he motions for the blond in question. Bakugou rolls his eyes as he pushes his way toward the two of you. Shinsou puts a finger to his lips so you can keep talking. Your eyes widen happily as you sleepily say, “Bakugou! Suki, you’re here. Now sshh, don’t tell Toshi, but I was gonna tell you how much I love you and him but it’s a secret.”

His ears go red as he comes to your opposite side and keeps you upright. Bakugou looks to Shinsou with a pout and blush and grumpily says, “don’t look at me like that fuzzy head. You know how I feel about the both of ya.”

In the morning, once you’re less of a stumbling drunk mess, the three of you will have a long talk.

Elle’s Wine Night!

[forest-meadow]

OH HELL YEAH ELLIE

I’m drinking alone and watching movies…also alone. Should we…??

Let’s chat about your favorites and drunken confessions, or slip of the tongue if drinking isn’t your thing!

Let’s do itttt

@qichun @crescentkaze @dark-mnjiro @we-are-so-close @kingkatsuki @heroesfan101 @forest-meadow @animediplomat just so you know! 🥰

[forest-meadow]

What if you rode horses in BG3…

[forest-meadow]

Ellie I love you for tagging me in this

Careful

[forest-meadow]

Beneath the Vines

Lucien Vanserra x Reader

word count: 6.7k

content: [ explicit sexual content, sex pollen (so, dub-con), unprotected PIV, public sex (forest setting), language, rough sex, biting/marking ]

summary: Seeking refuge from court politics in a secluded part of the forest, Lucien meets a female from the Summer Court searching for a hidden spring. He offers to guide her, but their journey takes an unexpected turn when he comes into contact with a mysterious pollen...

author's note: this idea has been cooking in the back of my mind since i finished the first book back in december, so i'm happy to finally share it :) writing some of his lines and the narration had me swooning i love him your honor

Lucien let out a long breath as the sounds of the court faded behind him. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the forest floor with warm patches that shifted in the gentle breeze. He closed his eyes, focusing on the soft rustling of branches and distant birdsong. It was rare to find such quiet moments, free from the constant dance of court politics and expectations. As the tension in his shoulders slowly eased, Lucien allowed his thoughts to wander, no longer needing to guard every expression and word. 

His brow furrowed as he mulled over the latest reports from their border scouts. Hybern was growing bolder, their movements more frequent and less concealed. He’d tried to discuss it with Tamlin, but the High Lord seemed more concerned with maintaining the illusion of peace, instead focusing his people and efforts on the upcoming Calanmai festivities. 

A twig snapped beneath Lucien’s boot as he began to pace. Rumors were swirling through the courts. Whispers of Hybern’s king sending one of his most cunning generals to Prythian. Amarantha, they called her. The name tasted like ash on his tongue. 

He paused, leaning against a tree trunk, its rough bark grounding him. How long could the Spring Court afford to turn a blind eye? How long before the fragile peace between the courts shattered under the weight of this looming threat? Lucien’s gaze swept across the peaceful forest, so at odds with the turmoil in his mind. He’d seen firsthand how quickly alliances could shift, how devastating the fallout could be. This time, he vowed silently, he’d be prepared. Whatever storm was coming, he’d do everything in his power to ensure Spring weathered it. 

His ears pricked at the sound of rustling leaves, followed by the snap of a twig. In an instant, his posture changed from relaxed to alert. His hand flew to the dagger at his hip, drawing it in one fluid motion as he spun towards the source of the noise, russet eyes scanning the brush.

A figure emerged from behind a large oak, and Lucien found himself face to face with a female High Fae. She froze, eyes wide, clearly not expecting to encounter anyone else in this secluded part of the forest. Lucien’s grip on his dagger loosened slightly as he took in the unexpected sight before him. The female stood there, clearly startled, holding a woven tote bag over one shoulder. Her hair flowed slightly in the wind, and she wore a sheer, cream-colored crochet cover-up that did little to conceal the black swimsuit underneath. The ensemble was revealing for a trek through the forest. 

“Sorry to interrupt, kind sir,” she said sarcastically. “Just passing through.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“How could you possibly know that? You don’t even—”

“You’re looking for the spring, right? It’s not that way.” He gestured to his left, far ahead. “It’s hidden, and not in the direction you were headed.”

She crossed her arms, clearly skeptical. “And you know this because…?”

Lucien chuckled softly. “Because I’ve spent more time exploring these woods than I’d like to admit.”

She started walking off in the direction he signaled, and he jogged a bit to keep pace with her. “I can show you the way, if you’d like.”

After a moment’s hesitation, came a shrug and a nonchalant response. “Alright, lead the way then.”

He didn’t try to hide his smirk at her casual demeanor. 

As they fell into step together, he couldn’t help but notice the graceful way she moved across the uneven forest floor. He broke the silence after a moment.

“You’re not from the Spring Court, are you?” he asked, his tone light and teasing. 

Her lips formed a small smile. “Is it that obvious? I’m visiting from the Summer Court. I heard tales of the hidden natural springs here and couldn’t resist seeking them out,” she replied. “And the heat wave made the idea of a cool spring irresistible.”

Summer, he mused. She had a brightness about her, a warmth that seemed out of place in the cool shade of the forest.

He chuckled. “Well, you’re in for a treat. Just beyond those trees over there, through the vines. I must admit, Summer, you certainly know how to find the most intriguing places.”

She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “‘Summer’?”

He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “Seems fitting for a female as radiant as yourself.”

An eye roll failed to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her soft lips. 

“I’m Lucien,” he said, extending his hand with his palm up. 

She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand gently in his. “(Y/N),” she replied, her eyes meeting his with a spark of curiosity and amusement. 

“A pleasure, Summer,” Lucien said, his voice low and smooth. He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across the back of it.

She laughed, a melodic sound that seemed to blend with the sounds of spring around them. “Nice to meet you too, Lucien.”

He lingered for a moment, their hands still lightly clasped, before finally releasing her. “Shall we?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling with intent. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Their conversation flowed easily as they walked, with Lucien pointing out various plants and sharing tidbits about them.

“What’s this one?” she asked, pointing to a vibrant blue flower.

“That’s moonbloom. It only opens at night, used in sleeping draughts,” Lucien explained, pleased by her interest.

“And that? The tree with the silver bark?”

“Whisperwood. The Court’s best instruments are carved from it.”

Their exchange continued, with Lucien sharing more about the flora they passed. Eventually, he turned the conversation to her.

“Tell me about the Summer Court. I’ve spent some time there, though I suspect there’s always more to learn.”

“It’s vibrant and full of life. There are endless festivities, stunning beaches, and exquisite food. I may be biased but of all the courts I’ve visited, Summer definitely has the best cuisine. People are already preparing for the solstice even though it’s barely March.” A soft sigh. “But… the constant activity, the heat… it can be a bit overwhelming.”

Time seemed to slip away as they walked, the forest around them a lush backdrop to their discussion. Eventually, they reached a curtain of vines hanging between two ancient trees. 

Lucien stepped forward gently parting the greenery. A fine, glittering pollen dusted his hand as he brushed against the vines. He blinked, momentarily disoriented by a sudden rush of warmth through his body, but he attributed it to the day’s heat. 

"After you," he said, holding the vines open with a slight bow, trying to shake off the lightheadedness.

Amusement and appreciation danced in her eyes, accompanied by a warm smile as she stepped through the vines. Lucien followed, letting the vines fall back into place behind them. As they walked, a sweet scent filled his senses — warm vanilla mingled with honey and a hint of sea salt. He found himself inhaling deeply, drawn to the aroma.

As they rounded a large boulder, the spring came into view, its serene beauty unfolding before them. The sight before them was breathtaking. A lush, verdant oasis spread out in a natural amphitheater, encircled by towering trees draped with cascading vines. The milky white pool at the center was fed by a small, delicate waterfall, its gentle cascade a soothing murmur that filled the air. Vibrant moss cloaked the surrounding rocks and tree roots, forming an ethereal green expanse that stretched to the water’s edge. Exotic flowers in vibrant hues dotted the landscape, their colors a stark contrast to the predominantly green surroundings. Above, the canopy formed a natural dome, with sunlight filtering through the intricate patterns of leaves, casting a magical glow over the alcove. 

"It's beautiful," her words were hardly more than a breath, eyes widening in genuine awe as she tentatively stepped deeper into the sanctuary.

Lucien nodded, his gaze drawn between the spring and his companion. "The minerals in the water give it that color," he explained, his voice taking on a rich, velvety quality that surprised even him. He cleared his throat and leaned against a tree, arms crossed. He watched as she  set her woven tote bag onto a nearby rock. Reaching over her shoulder to unfasten the tie of her cover-up, the delicate fabric slipped off her shoulders, revealing soft, smooth skin. The way the bikini she wore fit every dip and curve deliciously. His breath hitched as his russet eyes lingered on her, watching her with an intensity that surprised him. 

Flip flops discarded, she dipped a toe into the water, a shiver running up her spine as the coolness contrasted with the warm air. “Oh, that’s refreshing,” she murmured, taking a tentative step into the spring.

The water was unlike any she had ever felt, a soothing mixture of cool and silky, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. She fully submerged herself, the refreshing sensation washing over her as she disappeared beneath the surface. When she emerged, droplets of water clung to her skin, shimmering in the sunlight. 

A warmth spread through Lucien’s veins, his pulse quickening as he watched her. The way the sunlight played on her skin, highlighting the gentle curves and the elegance of her movements, captivated him. His thoughts grew hazy, his usually sharp focus dulled by the inexplicable urge to be closer to her. His gaze traced the line of her neck, watching as the breeze gently lifted strands of her hair. Every subtle shift, every graceful motion seemed to draw him in further. The serene pool and vibrant surroundings had practically faded, leaving only the mesmerizing vision of his Summer Court visitor before him. 

His…?

Lucien shook his head a bit, a useless attempt to rid himself of the growing intensity of his thoughts. It had to be the heat, it was getting to him. 

“You look hot,” she said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Lucien blinked, momentarily flustered as he took in the way her wet hair clung to her, the bathing suit now a shade darker and clinging to her curves. She looked exquisite, the milky white water droplets glistening on her skin like tiny jewels. “So do you, Summer,” he replied, a playful smirk forming on his lips.

She laughed, the sound like a light, bubbling brook. “I meant you’re dressed too warmly for this weather. Why don’t you join me and cool off?”

Lucien felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the weather. He forced himself to move slowly, deliberately, as he began to undress. His fingers deftly unfastened his tunic, revealing a chiseled chest and toned muscles beneath. The sunlight filtering through the leaves cast tantalizing shadows across his skin, highlighting every ridge and contour. 

As he shrugged off his tunic, he noticed the sticky pollen coating his hand. He tried to rub it off onto the fabric, but it clung stubbornly to his skin. He frowned slightly. No matter, it would come off in the water. 

He continued undressing, kicking off his boots and undoing his belt, letting it fall to the forest floor. As he slipped out of his trousers, now standing in just his boxers, he couldn’t help but notice her eyes following his every move.

Lucien caught her gaze and held it, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. He had been watching her watch him the entire time, a fact she only realized when she tore her eyes away from his body and looked up to meet his gaze.

With deliberate grace, he stepped into the water, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat bubbling beneath his skin. The spring’s translucent white waters swirled around his calves as he waded deeper, his eyes never leaving hers. 

He finally submerged himself, the water rippling around him as he moved closer to her. “Better?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, the playful smirk returning to his lips.

She felt her pulse quicken, the sight of him, all muscle and smooth confidence, stirring something deep within her. “Much,” she replied, a smile playing at her lips. 

They floated together in the cool water, the soothing embrace of the spring relaxing their muscles. Lucien watched as she dipped her head back, letting her hair float around her like a halo. She closed her eyes, a look of pure bliss on her face.

“This place is incredible,” she said softly, her eyes still closed. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

Lucien smiled, his own tension easing in the tranquil atmosphere. “It’s one of the Spring Court’s hidden gems. Not many know about it.”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his with a flicker of curiosity. “How did you find it?”

He shrugged, moving closer. “I stumbled upon it years ago, during a particularly stressful time. This general area of the forest has been my escape ever since.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the peaceful surroundings and the coolness of the water. Lucien felt a tingling heat spreading through his body, no longer the gentle warmth of before. His thoughts kept drifting back to the female in front of him, the way her skin glistened with water droplets, to the curve of her lips when she smiled. He wanted to feel those lips.

He tried to push the thoughts aside, but the more he tried to ignore it, the more intense it became, his desire for her was becoming harder to control, the need to touch her, to feel her against him, was almost overwhelming. 

“This spring is said to have unique properties,” he continued, his eyes lingering on her face, her eyes, her lips. “Some say that bathing in its waters can bring good fortune, or help with one’s artistic talents.” He chuckled softly. “But others speak of it being enchanted in a more intimate way.”

This provoked a turn of the head and a raised eyebrow, curiosity peaked. "Well, I never cared much for fortune, and I’m a sorry excuse for an artist,” she laughed softly. “So what have you heard? About the intimacies of the spring?” An almost knowing smile graced her lips. 

He swallowed, trying to cover it up with a nonchalant shrug. “They say,” he began, slowly, “that the waters can awaken one’s deepest desires. Enhance one’s… physical urges.”

She smirked at that. “Sounds to me like whoever came up with that got to this spring already horny,” she laughed. At the shit-eating grin on his face, her laughter grew infectious. “Oh, shut the fuck up,” she said, playfully shoving his shoulder.

But the touch was searing. He hissed, a jolt of electricity shot through Lucien’s body, his skin burning where her fingers made contact. His pulse quickened, and he felt a raw, primal need flare up inside him. The laughter faded, replaced by a charged silence. Every muscle in his body tensed as he struggled to keep composed. 

“Lucien?” Concern laced her voice. She reached out for him, but he flinched away from her touch, bringing his hands up to stop her. Hurt flashed across her face until she noticed… “What’s that on your hand?”

She reached out again, but he pulled his hand back, glancing at the sticky pollen coating his skin. Suddenly, it clicked. He knew what this was, had heard tales of its effects but had never encountered it personally.

“It’s… it’s this pollen,” he said, his voice tinged with embarrassment. “It must’ve been on the vines at the entrance. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together…”

A mix of curiosity and concern filled her eyes. “What does it do?”

Lucien took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He could hear his heart thrumming in his ears and wanted nothing more in that moment than to throw himself at the female mere feet across from him. “The pollen is known to,” he pauses with a sigh, choosing his words carefully. “It causes arousal, an intense arousal, making it almost impossible to think about anything else. It heightens every sensation, makes my skin feel like it’s on fire whenever you touch me.” She could see his chest rising and falling more shallowly, could hear his breaths coming more rapidly, could see his pupils dilate each time he looked at her. He hesitantly added, “The only way to get rid of its effects is through… physical intimacy.”

Her eyes widened slightly, understanding dawning on her. “You mean…?”

He nodded, though his regretful expression barely concealed his longing. “Yes, but don’t concern yourself. This isn’t your problem to solve,” he said, his voice strained yet resolute. “I’ll return home and find a way to… handle this. You’re under no obligation here.”

Lucien’s jaw clenched, clearly struggling with the pollen’s effects, but his eyes remained steady. “I apologize, it was careless of me not to recognize the signs sooner.”

With that, he turned, moving to exit the spring and retrieve his clothes. The cool water swirled around him as he took a step, but he felt a hand grasp his bicep, halting his retreat. The contact sent a shockwave of heat through his body, as if her hold would be permanently marked on the flesh there. His muscles coiled tightly beneath her touch, and he had to force himself to contain a whimper that threatened to escape his throat. Every sensation was amplified, transforming the simple gesture into an exquisite torment. He glanced back, his eyes darkening, surprise giving way to raw, unadulterated need. 

“It’s not such an inconvenience,” she said softly, her gaze meeting his with an intensity that made his skin prickle with anticipation.

His eyes widened in surprise, but she rolled hers, a playful smirk forming on her lips. “Don’t act so surprised, Lucien.” His name on her tongue sent a jolt of arousal through him, and he only realized now how painfully constricted his cock was. “It’s obvious I want you, and I think you wanted me even before the pollen?”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I did. I do.”

Her smirk turned into a gentle smile as she reached out again, tracing a finger down his chest. “So let me help you.”

Lucien’s body tensed, caught between desire and restraint. “Wait,” he said, his voice husky. As he spoke, his hand dipped beneath the water, fingers flexing unconsciously. “You should know… I’ve managed to control myself thus far, but if we continue…” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice dropping to a low, strained growl. “Once I feel you, I won’t be able to stop.”

His fingers curled into a fist underwater. Most of the visible pollen had washed away, leaving only faint traces on his skin, but its effects still coursed through his body. The cool water did nothing to dull the rush of his blood pumping in his ears. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, he refocused on her, his eyes full of want. 

“The pollen… it’s mostly gone now,” he managed, his breath nothing more than rhythmic, short pants. “But it’s like it’s under my skin, in my blood. I can feel it everywhere.” He unclenched his fist, watching as the last remnants of the pollen dissipated into the vast pool, now diluted and rendered harmless. “You won’t be affected, but I…” His eyes bore into hers, desperation in his voice as he spoke, “I’m burning for you, (Y/N).”

With a tender smile, she closed the distance between them. Her hands cupped his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones. Lucien's breath caught in his throat, her touch igniting sparks beneath his skin. His hands remained steadfast on the large stone submerged beneath the water behind him, as though touching her might shatter what fragile self-control he had left.

"It's okay," she whispered, her breath ghosting over his lips. "I've got you."

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his with exquisite softness. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a stark contrast to the fire raging within him. Lucien's eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed by the sensation. Even in the cool water, heat radiated from his skin, and where her lips met his, it felt as though he might combust.

She drew back slightly, placing feather-light kisses along his jaw, then down his neck. Each touch was like a brand, marking him, stoking the flames of his desire. Seeing his hesitation, she gently guided his trembling hands to her waist. The sensation of her bare skin beneath her fingertips sent a shiver through him, and he instinctively bucked his hips against her, a long, deep whine escaping his lips like a plea. The sound shot straight to her core. 

"(Y/N)," he breathed, her name a prayer on his lips. 

A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. “Not ‘Summer’ anymore? I was starting to think you’d forgotten my name,” she spoke against his neck.

Lucien’s gaze was unfocused, looking at the vines on the other side of the spring, pupils dilated as he struggled to process her words. His breath came in short, ragged pants, and a fine tremor ran through his body. “Forget your name?” he murmured into her ear, his voice hoarse. Each word seemed to cost him great effort, as if speaking required immense concentration. “Darling, it’s the only word my mind can form right now.”

His fingers tightened on her waist, seeking an anchor as the world around him seemed to blur, leaving only her in sharp focus.

The gentleness of her actions was both a balm and a torment. His body screamed for more, for friction, for release from this exquisite agony. Yet he found himself surrendering to her pace, allowing her to lead him through this intoxicating haze. 

She returned to his lips, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. Lucien responded with a low moan, the sound vibrating through both of them. The gentle waves of the spring embraced them, their cool touch contrasting with the heat building between them, intensifying every sensation.

Without breaking the kiss, Lucien’s hands tightened on her waist, subtly guiding them towards a shallower part of the water. He felt the solid presence of a smooth, submerged stone beneath him and sank down onto it, pulling her closer. She straddled him, her legs on either side of his, pressing her body against his so deliciously that he couldn’t help it when his hips bucked up hard against hers. She gasped in surprise, the sound mingling with their shared breath.

“I’m sorry, I—” he began, but she silenced him by grinding down onto him, her movements deliberate and slow, a wordless reassurance that sent yet another pulse of need crashing through him. His mind spun, every point of contact between them sent his nerves into a frenzy. Her skin felt like silk under his fingers, warm and inviting. He let his hands roam, tracing the curve of her back, feeling the subtle shift of muscles beneath her skin. The way she moved against him, the soft gasps and moans escaping her lips, were a symphony that played directly into the hot coil within him. His hands wandered further, exploring every inch of her, committing the feel of her to memory. He caressed her sides, ran his fingers along the edges of her swimsuit. His touch was gently yet firm, reflecting his reverence for her as well as the uncontrollable hunger that coursed through him. 

But it wasn’t enough. The burning within him grew fiercer with each passing second. He needed more, craved more. The sensation of her grinding against him was driving him to the edge of sanity. It was sweet torture, the ache of unfulfilled need becoming almost unbearable. Lucien’s breaths came in ragged gasps, his body screaming for more, for release — demanding it. The longing was a physical pain, a fire that consumed him from the inside out. 

“Please,” he groaned, his voice rough and low, a powerful undercurrent of desperation threading through it. “I need more, (Y/N). I can’t take it… I need you.” His eyes locked onto hers, a fierce determination in their depths, even as his words pleaded for relief. His grip tightened on her waist, guiding her movements with urgency and restraint, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “Please,” he repeated, his voice a pained rasp. 

“You need me?”

A single, tense nod.

She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the same need. “Then take me,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Lucien captured her lips once more, much more hungrily this time, their bodies moving together in the water. Her hands raked over the expanse of his back, nails lightly digging in. She relished the feel of his muscles tensing beneath her touch, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips. Every contour and ridge of his body seemed sculpted for her hands alone. The power in his frame, the way he responded to her every touch, sent a thrill through her. Her hands wandered, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, the firm muscles of his chest, and the tautness of his abdomen. Each caress was deliberate, savoring the sensation of his body and the way it reacted to her. 

Lucien's breath hitched as her hands moved lower, feeling the hard planes of his stomach, tracing the edge of his waistband. Her touch was both curious and confident, a gentle exploration and bold possession. 

With a low groan and little thought, Lucien's hands moved to her bikini top, tugging it up just enough to expose her chest. He sucked in a sharp breath, only taking a moment to admire them before descending upon them, his mouth eagerly finding her exposed skin. He left a collection of red and purple marks across them, and she couldn't help but hum softly at the sensation.

Smiling, she pulled the bikini top the rest of the way off, tossing it to the shoreline. “Impatient, aren’t we?” she remarked, her voice breathless and not nearly as teasing as she’d hoped it’d be.

Lucien looked up at her, his eyes so different than when they’d first encountered each other not an hour prior, a smirk playing at his lips. “Only for you,” he murmured before his mouth returned to her skin, his kisses hungry and possessive, leaving a trail of marks across her chest. He shifted slightly, the water lapping at his chest. Her fingers traced idle patterns on his shoulder, not ceasing the movement of her hips. 

“You’re trembling,” she whispered, concern evident in her voice.

He straightened, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. “It’s unbearable. Every touch, every breath…I feel like I’m burning from the inside out.” He swallowed hard and brought her hand to the nape of his neck, leaning into her touch as if it were a lifeline. 

“Are you sure this is helping…? Maybe we could try—”

“(Y/N),” Lucien interrupted, his eyes wild and craving. “Doing anything but this would destroy me. I’ve never felt anything like this before, but I know… I know that I need you. All of you. I need to feel every inch of you against me.” His gaze locked onto hers, pupils dilated. “Your touch,” he choked out, “is both torment and salvation. I crave it like I crave air to breathe.” Lucien’s hands trembled as they moved to her hips, urging her closer. His fingers splayed across her skin, desperate to eliminate any remaining space between them. “Please,” he whispered, the word barely audible over the soft lapping of the water.

She shivered against him, not from the water, but from the raw emotion in his voice. She brought her hand from the back of his neck to his face, her thumb stroking his cheek. 

“Lucien,” his name on her tongue was so pleasing to his ears. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, lean into her touch.

Her other hand trailed down his chest, his abdomen, finally reaching the waistband of the only thing keeping all of him from her. 

“Let me take care of you,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over his ear. Her hand traveled further yet, getting ahold of him, cupping him, squeezing him, feeling the size and weight of him.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, muscles taut. A strangled moan escaped from his lips, closing his eyes and rolling his head back. He dug his fingers into her hips, only vaguely aware of the frustrating barrier of her swimsuit. “(Y/N)...” Her touch, her ministrations, it was all so intense. “You’re driving me insane,” he growled.

A low chuckle emanated from her. “Say my name like that again, let me hear it.”

He obliged, her name falling from his lips like a reverent prayer, drawing out each syllable like a sinful plea. 

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Whether it was from his voice or the fact that he was tugging her bottoms off, he had no idea. But the sounds she let out were mouthwatering. He watched as she shuddered and moaned beneath his touch, letting out grunts and curses of his own. “Gods,” he rasped, his voice thick. “You sound so beautiful when you moan for me.”

She squeezed him sinfully at that bit of praise, moaning his name quietly. 

“Please touch me, (Y/N)... It hurts…”

In that moment she caved, both of them lifting up a bit to allow the other to rid them of their last bits of clothing. She tugged him a few times, grip tight and movements long. He rocked into her hand, a string of curses falling from his lips. Normally he wouldn’t unravel so quickly, but with every sensation magnified, he’d be surprised if he lasted another minute. 

“Sweetheart, you have to… Gods, please don’t stop,” he managed to gasp out, his hips rocking eagerly, his face scrunched in concentration. 

She met his gaze, her eyes darkening with desire. Nodding slightly, her breath coming out in puffs, she continued, increasing her pace while he maintained his movements into her hand. Lucien’s breath caught, his muscles tensed as waves of pleasure washed over him. He clung to her desperately, burying his face into the crook of her neck to muffle his increasingly vocal responses. His release coated her hand, but quickly washed away into the water as she continued stroking him through it. She murmured soft encouragements all the while. 

She felt his weight slumped against her, heard his breathing slow, found herself wondering if it had passed. She held him close, running a soothing hand along his back, through the hair and the nape of his neck.

When he finally lifted his head, she was ready to greet him with a warm smile, but where she expected either newfound calm or lingering distress, she found neither. On the contrary, it almost seemed as if their actions amplified his hunger. 

Lucien wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace and found himself rutting his hips up, thoughtlessly trying to find her entrance. She gained purchase on a stone behind him, her chest hovering over his face. With a groan, he released one of his arms from around her, using the hand to guide himself. But when his fingers brushed against her and she let out the softest, most helpless whimper he’d heard in his life, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to hear more from her. He replaced the head of his cock with his fingers, shakily grazing over her folds. 

Her repeated mantra of “oh’s” and “yes’s” goaded him on, and as he dipped his fingers further through them, he slowly thrusted the still-hard length of himself along her cunt. The caress of both on her sensitive skin getting to be too much. “Lucien, why don’t you just—” What bordered on a wail interrupted her words when he let his tip brush against her clit, the first meaningful relief of pressure she’d gotten there all this time. 

“Wanna feel you, wanna make sure you’re alright,” she could hardly recognize his voice, it sounded pained, his words slurred. “Don’t want… to hurt you.” When he went to slip his fingers into her, she pulled them away, moving to seat herself on him.

“Don’t worry about me,” she assured him she was alright. “I’m helping you, just worry about yourself, okay?” But he shook his head, insisting that he wanted her to feel just as good as he did. “I will. I am.” With that, she lowered herself slowly, taking him inch by inch. Their faces were a mirror of shared ecstasy, expressions soft with contentment. They were entwined — she cradled in his embrace, he sheathed within her warmth. 

Lucien's world had narrowed to this single point in time and space. Any remaining semblance of coherent thought dissolved entirely. The feel of her skin, the sound of her breath, the scent of her hair — these were the only realities that existed for him now. Nothing else mattered — not the court, not his duties, not even his own name. There was only her, only this. 

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he tightened his hold, desperate to remove any open space from between them. His thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm, leaving only base instinct and overwhelming need.

“(Y/N),” he huffed, voice rough with emotion. “I can’t… I need…”

Words failed him, but his body spoke volumes. Trembling muscles, racing pulse, sharp breaths. He was a male consumed. Lucien heard her voice distantly. 

“It’s okay… Take what you need, Lucien.”

As she pulled herself up, something primal awakened in him. Lucien drove his hips up into her and moved with fervent intensity, his actions far beyond conscious control. Every fiber of his being sang with pleasure, drowning out all else. Nothing beyond this moment.

He was dimly aware of sounds escaping him — groans, gasps, fragmented words of reverence. There was only feeling, only her, only them. 

The spring water surged around them, disturbed by the frenzied movements of their bodies. Each trust was relentless, powerful, driven by an urgent need. Lucien’s hands guided her by the hips with a force that left no room for gentleness.

He groaned her name, told her he needed more of her. He didn’t know how it would be possible, in this moment she was his everything. 

Her responses were lost in a series of breathless moans and gasps, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she tried to match his relentless rhythm. “Lucien… don’t stop… please…”

The words spurred him on, his pace now frantic. His eyes bore into hers. Every thrust, every movement, was a raw expression of his need, amplified by the pollen’s effects coursing through his veins.

Her nails raked down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. She clung to him, feeling the intensity of his desire in each powerful motion. The friction and pressure were overwhelming, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her body responded to his instinctually, her moans and cries echoing through the trees around them.

“So… damn good… So tight,” he groaned into her.

She gasped, her head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as she rode him, rode the pleasure coursing through her. “Lucien… oh gods… you’re so deep, I can’t,” she buried her face into the crook of his neck. All she saw was the tanned color of his skin, the golden red of his hair, and smelled the earthy scent of cedar and fresh rain, mingling with the faintest hint of smoke and spice.

He shook his head. “Don’t hold back… Let me hear you. Tell me—fuck—tell me how good it feels.”

Her voice came out in broken gasps, each word punctuated by a moan. “It’s… so good… you’re so good... I can't... I need…”

Lucien's lips found her neck, his teeth grazing her skin before he sucked hard, leaving a mark. "Need what, darling? I want to hear you say it."

"Need you... need you to make me come," she confessed, her voice trembling with need. "Please, Lucien... I’m so close."

He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against her skin. "Anything for you, love." His mouth trailed down to her chest, his lips closing around one of her nipples. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

She cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. "Lucien... yes, just like that... don't stop..."

His free hand snaked between their bodies, fingers seeking out her clit. He rubbed in firm, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The combined sensations of his mouth on her nipple, his fingers on her clit, and the relentless drive of his hips were too much.

Her body tensed, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she teetered on the edge of release. Lucien bit down gently on her nipple, the sudden spike of pain mingling with the overwhelming pleasure, pushing her over the edge. She shattered around him, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity that left her breathless and trembling.

Lucien didn’t slow, riding out her climax, his own release following swiftly. With a final, powerful thrust, he let out a primal roar, spilling into her with a force that made stars dance behind his eyelids.

For a moment, they were locked together, their breaths harsh and mingled, hearts racing in unison. Slowly, as the intensity of their climaxes began to fade, they slumped into the water, still entwined, the spring's cool embrace a stark contrast to the heat of their encounter.

Lucien pressed his forehead against hers, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. "Are you... alright?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse with lingering desire and concern.

She nodded weakly, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "More than alright," she replied, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "That was... incredible."

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through both of them. 

She lifted her head slightly, looking into his eyes. "How are you feeling now?"

Lucien took a deep breath, still holding her close. "I still feel it," he admitted, his voice softer now, more controlled. "But it's much more manageable.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I'm glad," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. "I was worried for a moment there."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his eyes softening. "You were amazing," he whispered. 

They lingered in the water for a few more moments, their breaths slowly returning to normal. But the connection between them, the raw need, was still there, simmering beneath the surface.

And then Lucien moved again, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. "But I think," he said, his voice taking on that rough, hungry edge once more, "that we have a bit more to take care of."

She shivered in anticipation, her own desire flaring up once again. "What do you have in mind?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

His answer was a low growl as he shifted their positions, lifting her up and guiding her onto a nearby rock. He took her again there, their bodies moving together with a renewed intensity. Then, he turned her around, bending her over it, her cries echoing through the spring as he thrust into her from behind.

They moved to the water's edge next, Lucien pulling her onto his lap as he sat on a submerged boulder. She rode him hard, the water splashing around them as their movements grew more frantic.

Later, he laid her down on a bed of soft moss, hovering over her as he entered her again. The rhythm of his thrusts was relentless, each one pushing them both closer to the edge once more.

And when they finally left the spring, sated but still hungry for each other, Lucien carried her back to his chambers. He laid her on his bed, driven by a deeper need, something more enduring. There, in the privacy of his room, he took her yet again, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and connection, free from any enchantments, driven only by their desire for each other.

[forest-meadow]

In the Wake of Absence

Day 2: Caught | Lucien x Reader word count: 2.9k author’s note: im imagining this to take place pre-feyre, pre-amar*ntha, pre- all that mess, just some good ol’ tam and luc living together, but now also poof, reader has been dropped in too :) ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

You lay sprawled across his bed, your fingers clutching the soft, forest-green sheets, now rumpled from your restless movements. The pale green silk of your nightgown clings to your body, the hem pushed high on your thighs, its delicate straps slipping off your shoulders. You woke to a dull ache in your core, so intense, it was impossible to ignore. All you can do is breathe him in—the scent of fresh rain, wildflowers, and something deeper, warmer, like cinnamon and a glowing fire, still clinging to the pillow your face is pressed against.

Your hair spills across the sheets, sliding against the silk as your body moves against the bed. Each shift sends the scent of him flooding your senses, that intoxicating blend of spring and autumn, of something both wild and steady. The sheets slide beneath you as you arch your back, thighs squeezing together, a quiet moan escaping as your body hums with need. His presence fills the space, even in his absence, the smell of him wrapping around you, igniting that low heat inside you as you grip the pillow tighter, chasing his comfort, the desire only growing stronger.

Your hand slips between your legs, fingers pressing into the slick heat there, but it’s not enough — not like he would be. You close your eyes, trying to imagine his long, slender fingers taking over, or better yet, the stretch of his cock, thick and perfect. How he’d groan into your neck, pull you closer, as his hands roamed your body with the confidence of someone who had memorized every inch of your skin. The heat of his mouth pressing against your throat, his breath hot and uneven as he whispered filthy promises against your ear. How he’d guide your hips with those strong hands, each movement deliberate, making you gasp, making you arch into him. How his tongue would glide over the sensitive skin of your chest, down your stomach, and lower still, until you were trembling beneath him, completely at his mercy. You imagine the sharp pull of his teeth against your skin, the way he’d murmur your name like a prayer, while his body claimed yours.

But no matter how hard you try, it’s not enough. A frustrated whimper escapes your lips as you move against the sheets, the scent of him swirling around you — earth and wildflowers, cinnamon and fire — but it only makes the ache worse. He’s gone to the Dawn Court, handling whatever emissary business it was this time, and even if he were here…

You bite your lip at the thought, your heart racing. You’d sooner die than let him see you like this, splayed across his bed, depraved and desperate, soaking his sheets with your need. Knowing you’re touching yourself in the very space he sleeps, imagining what it would feel like to have him here, only intensifies your arousal. Your fingers aren’t enough, no matter how you move them, no matter how deep you push them in. It’s a cruel tease.

You let out a frustrated sigh, pushing the pillow tighter against your face. The room feels hotter, the scent of him clinging to you even more, as if it’s teasing you with the very thing you can’t have. Suddenly, you hear the distant sound of the door opening, a soft creak that freezes you in place. Your eyes fly open, your breath catching in your throat. Fuck. 

You’d thought Lucien wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. But now, the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching grows louder, and your stomach drops. You don’t have time to do anything other than pull a sheet over yourself. The door swings open, and there he stands, broad shoulders filling the frame, his coat hanging loosely off his muscular form. His eyes widen for a split second before narrowing slightly, a flicker of something you can’t quite place crossing his features. His hand lingers on the door handle like he’s unsure whether to move closer or stay where he is. He takes in your disheveled form, the tangled sheets, and the deep flush on your face.

“I said I’d be back today,” he says. His voice is a low rumble, caught between amusement and shock. “Didn’t I?”

Your heart slams in your chest, but you keep your face neutral as you sit up, tugging the sheets higher in a feeble attempt to hide the obvious. “I, uh, couldn’t sleep,” you say, your voice shaky as you fumble for an excuse. “Something about my room felt off, I couldn’t get comfortable… I thought I’d try sleeping in another room. Yours was the closest.”

Lucien arches a brow, lips quirking in a way that sends a new wave of heat rushing through your already flushed body. He steps closer, slow and deliberate, arms folding across his chest as he leans against the doorframe. “In my bed, huh?” His voice is teasing, laced with amusement, but there’s a sharpness to his gaze. “Are you sure that’s all it was? Just a bad night’s sleep?”

You swallow, trying to hold his gaze, but the weight of it makes your skin prickle with embarrassment. “Yes. I—I told you, I couldn’t sleep. That’s all.”

Lucien chuckles, low and quiet, his gaze never leaving yours as he comes closer. “Come on, don’t insult me. Do you think I can’t tell when you’re lying? You’re in my bed, practically naked, and you want me to believe this was about a restless night?”

“I—” you start, scrambling for something, anything, but your mind is blank.

He shakes his head, taking another step forward, close enough now that you can practically feel the warmth radiating off him. His smirk deepens, eyes flicking down to the sheets that are still clutched in your fists. “You sure you want to play dumb?” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because I could smell what you were doing from the bottom of the stairs.”

Your breath catches, the heat rising to your face so intensely you think you might melt into the bed. There’s no point in denying it now. He knows. He’s known from the second he walked in. Your stomach flips, the embarrassment scorching through your body as you grip the sheets even tighter. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out—there’s nothing to say. Lucien’s gaze, sharp and unrelenting, pins you in place, the weight of his words sinking in deeper with every second that passes.

“Lost for words now?” he teases, his voice rich with amusement as he sits on the edge of the bed, dangerously close to you. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to walk in on this—figured that the mouthwatering smell of honey and lavender may have floated over from your room down the hall. Like it usually does. But I’ve got to say, it’s a rather… interesting welcome home.” 

You can’t look at him, the humiliation is too much. The heat between your legs still lingers, your skin prickling with the aftershock of what you’d been doing before he walked in. He shifts a bit closer but doesn’t touch you. Instead, he just looks down at you with that same damn smirk. 

“You could’ve asked, you know,” he says, his voice almost too casual, like you weren’t just caught in the most vulnerable, humiliating moment of your life. “Instead of sneaking into my bed, imagining… whatever it was you were imagining.” His tone turns playful, eyes sparkling with mischief as he adds, “I think it’s a fair assumption you weren’t thinking about my work?”

Your breath hitches, and his grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort. Shamefully, that was something you’d gotten off to before; you had wandered into his office one day to ask if he’d seen Alis, but the sight of him leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, thin rectangular glasses perched on his nose as he scanned a thick stack of papers? That had you spiraling. Something about the way his fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest, so focused, so relaxed — it did things to you. 

“Lucien, I—” you try to speak, but your throat is tight, words tangled in a mess of shame and something dangerously close to excitement.

“Come on, don’t be shy now,” he drawls, setting a hand down on your knee, his voice soft but laced with teasing. “You’ve already done the hard part. So, why don’t you tell me what you were really thinking about? Or”—he leans forward, his face inches from yours, voice a low murmur—“do I have to guess?”

Your heart pounds so hard it’s almost deafening, your entire body frozen beneath his touch. His hand is warm on your knee, his grip firm, but not forceful. As your eyes stay trained on his hand, you can feel him watching you, waiting for you to speak, but your mind is a mess of shame and panic. There’s no way you can tell him what you were really thinking, how far your fantasies had gone. You could barely admit it to yourself.

“I—I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to,” you stammer, voice barely above a whisper, trying to deflect, to say anything to distract him from the wet spot beneath you. If you stood up now, he’d see it—see how desperate you’d been, how completely lost in your own need.

Lucien’s lips quirk into a smirk, his fingers brushing lightly along your knee, his eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t mean to? Then what were you doing in here?” He raises an eyebrow. “Seems like I will have to guess. Maybe there really is something ‘off’ with your room. Or…” he pauses, pretending to consider. His voice is too light, too playful, and you can feel him testing you, backing you into a corner. “Or,” he continues, tone teasing, “maybe you just needed a good book to help you fall asleep. Maybe I could’ve read you some of those reports you love so much.”

Your stomach twists, and you try to swallow down the panic rising in your throat. He’d known? How had he known? “Lucien, please—” you try again, desperate to stop him, but he just keeps going. 

“Oh, I know,” he says, leaning even closer, his hand sliding an inch higher on your thigh. “You were thinking about me… cleaning my weapons, weren’t you? Really gets the blood pumping, watching me sharpen a blade.”

You choke on a breath, your face burning with embarrassment, but before you can even attempt another deflection, his voice drops lower — dark, sultry. “Or maybe… you were thinking about me spreading your legs,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, “and fucking you so good, so hard, that you’d be screaming my name, begging for more.”

Your breath catches, and you swear your heart stops. He says it so casually, so effortlessly, but the impact of his words crashes into you like a wave. Every muscle in your body tightens, the arousal flooding back in full force, and all you can do is stare up at him, utterly speechless.

Lucien’s smirk deepens, his hand sliding higher still, his thumb brushing the inside of your thigh. “Ah, is that it?” he whispers, his voice dark and dangerous in a way you’ve never heard before. “Am I getting warmer?”

Your eyes lock onto Lucien’s, heart racing as his hand continues its slow, tantalizing ascent up your thigh. You open your mouth, desperate to say something, anything to escape this torment, but your voice comes out as a ragged whisper. “I’m really sorry, Lucien. Let’s just forget this happened. I’ll leave, and we can pretend this never happened, okay?”

Lucien’s smirk doesn’t waver; if anything, it deepens. He doesn’t pull his hand away. Instead, his gaze grows even more intense, a dark glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, but I’m quite enjoying this game,” he says, his voice low and throaty, practically purring with anticipation. “Why would we want to stop now?”

He leans in so his lips brush your ear, his fingers now lightly grazing the lace at the hem of your nightgown. If he went any further, he’d know you weren’t wearing any underwear. “Let’s see,” he murmurs, the words rolling off his tongue like a caress. “Were you thinking about me tearing this little nightgown off you, baring your skin to me? Or maybe you imagined me bending you over this very bed, taking my time, making sure you felt every inch of me.”

You shiver at his words, your skin tingling with anticipation. His hand moves further up, the pressure growing firmer, more deliberate, as he rests it on your bare hip. “Perhaps you were wondering what it would feel like if I pushed myself deep inside you, what it would be like to clench around my cock, how I’d pleasure you over and over, until you’re gasping for breath, completely lost in it.”

Your breaths come quick and shallow, wondering how long he’s been able to read you so effortlessly. The intensity of his words and the heat of his touch make it impossible to think clearly. Every muscle in your body is tight, the arousal pooling between your legs overwhelming, but you can’t move, can’t escape his commanding presence. Lucien’s hand continues its exploration, his fingers lightly dragging over your abdomen. 

“Tell me,” he demands softly, his voice almost a growl, “am I getting warmer?”

Your breath shakes, but you force yourself to look him in the eye, your voice steady despite the nerves curling in your stomach. “Yes... I was thinking about it,” you admit, a hint of defiance in your tone, trying to reclaim some of your dignity. “What would happen if you were here.”

He’s clearly pleased with your answer, his fingers dipping lower, to your inner thigh. “Good girl,” he mutters, his hand pressing into you more firmly. “That’s more like it. See how much easier it is when you’re honest?”

The sensation of his fingers, so close but not nearly enough, it makes it hard to suppress the whimper rising in your throat. You feel his touch growing bolder, testing the boundaries as his thumb lightly caresses your folds. “You’re soaked,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a knowing grin. “Even if you’d run off, if we’d agreed not to speak of this, this —” he pulls the sheets off of you in a fluid movement, exposing the incriminating evidence of your arousal on his bed, “this would have driven me mad.”

Your thighs clench, but he uses his other hand to spread them with ease. His fingers tease and explore as if they have all the time in the world. “I’d walk in and catch the faintest traces of honey and lavender, lingering in the air, teasing me. And later, in the bath, I’d find the scent still clinging to me. I’d wonder why I couldn’t stop thinking of you, why I felt the sudden need to ease the ache in my body.” His voice drops to a whisper as he adds, “It’d be most intense when I retired for the night, would make me wonder why I couldn’t fall asleep, why thoughts of you were so persistent, and why my dreams of you seemed so vivid…

“But you didn’t leave, did you?” The playfulness in his voice faded into something much darker. “No, you stayed right here. In my bed. Wanting me to know you’d been imagining what it’d feel like to have me inside you.”

You bite your lip, his words igniting a fire in you, as his fingers continue to tease. Lucien’s hand presses more insistently as if daring you to deny how much you want this. Your body reacts before your mind can catch up. You grab Lucien’s wrist, pushing his fingers harder against your aching core, the heat of your desperation overriding any sense of restraint. “Please,” you whisper, the word spilling out before you can stop it, your voice raw with need.

Lucien’s eyes flicker with surprise for just a moment, but something darker, more predatory, takes over. His fingers obey your silent demand, sliding his fingers up your center. “So impatient,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement. “I didn’t think you’d beg so quickly.”

Your breath shudders, hips instinctively bucking against his hand, chasing the friction you crave. “Shut up,” you gasp, clinging to what little dignity you have left, even as your body betrays you, pushing yourself against his fingers. 

Lucien chuckles lowly. “Oh, I think you like it when I talk,” he purrs, his thumb brushing over your clit in a slow, torturous circle. “Admit it — you’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan, but his fingers press deeper, sliding into you with ease, and you’re helpless to stop the sound that escapes your throat. “You’ve imagined it,” he continues, his tone turning softer. “How I’d touch you, how I’d make you come.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, guiding you to lie back on the bed. Your head falls back against the pillow, your fingers curling into the sheets as he pumps into you, his long, clever fingers moving with precision, bringing you closer. But it’s his words that drive you wild, that pull you under. 

“Tell me what else you’ve thought about?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@starlightazriel @nvdax @halo-hanging @paleidiot @kismet27

@mellowmusings @gracielacie @d3ad-ins1de @loviseamms @inkedinshadows

@natasha153 @deathdoordoctor @spacebananabud @secretsicanthideanymore @edance2000

@lorosette @alykatv @hellabizzy @serena-capella @acoazlove

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @scorpioriesling @hannzoaks @confusedsezure @elenapri0502

@honethatty12 @isnotwhatyourethinking @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @scarsandallaz @julesvanslutta @90angiex

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Jealousy, Jealousy

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

Pairing(s): Lucien x reader

Warnings: fluff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[forest-meadow]

guess who just got ✨dommed by the narrative✨✨✨

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Alternative note, Shinso’s mom makes baked goods for Aizawa as a thanks for training him and shinso is super reluctant to give it to him and sooo embarrassed but Aizawa hasn’t had homemade baked goods in so long it cracks something inside him to get some

Shinso flops the box on to the table. The perfectly arranged cookies are now slanted, the more delicate of them shattered in half. Mom would have his ass if she found out they had been shoved into his backpack and nearly forgotten, but she'll never find out.

Aizawa peeks up from his desk, one brow raised. The other never moves, frozen in place by either the eyepatch or the injury itself. Shinso tries not to stare at it too much, but his eyes and curiousity always wander.

"My, uh," Shinso rolls his eyes, partially at himself. "My mom wanted me to give these to you. As a thank you for the training."

The kid shrugs his shoulders. His teacher isn't one for gifts or holidays, but at least he can pass the treats on to Eri if need be. The girl still visits sometimes, popping in right after school ends.

Aizawa inspects the package for a moment, nodding to himself. His expression softens a bit as he brings the box closer.

"These are nice," he says. "Your mother is an excellent baker."

"I guess. She does christmas cookies each year. It's kind of her 'thing.'" Shinso gives air quotes. The cookies are charming when he was young, but now he's nearly an adult himself, tied to home every december by confectionery obligation.

"It's actually kind of annoying how seriously she takes it," Shinso admits as he slides into a chair. He spins around, the wheels creaking at the weight. "It'd be easier if she'd relax."

He knows he's being bratty, but it spills out of him anyway.

"Is your mom--?" Shinso tries. "Is your mom so--?"

Aizawa glances up again, eye oddly wide. "My mom?"

His gaze casts downward, back to the box in front of him. He touches the bow on the top rather delicately, his mind clearly somewhere else.

"She was..." he pauses. "Young."

Shinso reels back.

"I didn't-" His face is hot with shame.

"It's fine." Aizawa stands and ruffles his student's hair with one hand, casual, yet firm. "She's been gone longer than she was here."

His voice is unaffected, maybe even calloused. Not hurt, not reflective. Just. There.

"Thank your mother for the cookies."

[forest-meadow]

Aaaand we’re back

Violet-turning-violet is again…antique-remains!

Pls reblog to spread the word!

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Ecological-Botanical Garden, University of Bayreuth | ig: @evadollhopf

[forest-meadow]

halsin is not boring im so sorry you believe every companion should have Main Character Syndrome but i think its okay to have at least one big tiddied man who's mostly just there to stare at you like this

[forest-meadow]

Hackfall Woods

Photo: Mark Sunderland

[forest-meadow]

Don’t wake him up on this Batstarion Sunday

on twtr: https://x.com/skeptical_lynx/status/1843026251919081762?s=46&t=EuBiJuFrpmM7JiLiuDbaCA

[forest-meadow]