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[fieldtomatoes]

enjoying free local strawberries that I froze in june in the form of a chocolate-strawberry-banana smoothie :)

[aashu132]

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Chocolate Chiffon Cake

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[jukasorganicco]

Get the Best Liquid Multivitamin: Guide to Perfect Health

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[crookedteethed]

18+ -mdni

ᥫ᭡. eiffel tower me, please.

pairing: rafe x kook!jj x fem! reader

warnings: smut (pinv), language, threesome, oral (m and f receiving), drug usage, a little voyurism (if you squint). porn with little plot (as per usual), dirty talk,

⌞ series masterlist ⌝ ⌞ II ⌝

Rafe's fascination with you took place when he saw you fucking your boyfriend, his best friend, JJ Maybank, in the bushes during a Kook party. 

Rafe had been watching you two all night-- he watched as the both of you couldn't keep your hands off of one another--JJ's hand had squeezed your plump ass every chance it got, while your lips always found a spot on his sunkissed skin to smooch whenever the moment was right--so it wasn't a shocker that Rafe was the one to catch you two sneaking off.

For Rafe, it was disgusting seeing you two being all lovey-dovey and shit, yeah, yeah, yeah, Rafe was happy to see his friend happy and whatnot, but secretly, the boy was envious.

I mean, here Rafe was getting the worst neck by Gums McGee while JJ was getting some of the best piece of ass on Kildare Island. 

It's not like you were a slut or anything--Rafe really hadn't known if you were the best piece of ass on Kildare, but the way your boyfriend talked about your sex life when you weren't around sure made you sound like you were--and Rafe had wanted to know if the legions about you were true--like the time JJ had claimed you wrapped a fruit roll up around his dick and sucked it--or that time JJ said you simply let him cum inside of you--Rafe had wanted that, Rafe wanted that with you, because you were something Rafe couldn't have.

Rafe doesn't know why he'd followed you and JJ out to the bushes-- He'd stopped getting the worst head he'd ever received to be a peeping tom. But Rafe swears his plan wasn't to be a peeping tom; how could Rafe not be a peeping tom when he suddenly sees your bare heart-shaped ass--your mini skirt bunched around your waist--bouncing on JJ's cock, grappling in the bushes. Your slit was so little and displayed for him--it looked like it could barely take the penetration. Your pretty moans serenaded Rafe's ears--leaving him in a trance, like a mermaid's siren. You were alluring; how could Rafe not be a peeping tom?

When Rafe had found himself sprouting a boner, and quickly taking care of it in his car, he knew he was in some pretty deep fucking shit.

"I have a proposition for you." Rafe had told Jay, going nose first into a line coke--the boys had been slumming it up the next day, drinking beer and watching the box all day in Jay's new condo he'd gotten for his 20th birthday. 

Rafe then pushed the coke tray to JJ. "What is it?" he said as he followed in pursuit and did the same as Rafe. 

"I get to fuck y/n for one night, in exchange for my dirt bike." Rafe snorted, causing JJ to laugh. 

"You fucking kidding me?" Jay said, wiping the white powder underneath his nostrils. JJ continued to laugh until he realized that Rafe hadn't cracked one smile, meaning that Rafe Cameron has finally lost his damn marbles.

"You do realize that's the dumbest fucking proposition ever, man? You're supposed to propose some shit that I can't go out and buy myself." Jay said. 

"Last week, you said it yourself!" Rafe rebutted. "You said,' My dirt bike is way cooler than yours' ."

"Dude, that wasn't code for: I want your bike in exchange to fuck my girlfriend."

Rafe had been quiet momentarily, reaching over to JJ for the tray and snorting another line. Rafe had needed to hold his composer because ever since last night, he couldn't get the image of you fucking JJ, and Rafe just needed to see it again, but with his cock barely fitting in your pussy instead.

"Ok, what about this," Rafe said, bringing out his inner businessman. "What if I get to fuck y/n in exchange for my Bently?"

Now Rafe was talking, causing JJ's eyebrow to hitch and ears to perk. 

Let's be honest: JJ's father could fund him the money for a new dirt bike if Jay had wanted one. But a new car? Fuck no. Especially since he'd just gotten a new Porsche this January. 

JJ would be a fool not to take Rafe's new and improved proposition.

"Well, when you throw a Bently in the mix, you have yourself a deal, brother!" JJ had shouted, already getting revved up from the coke (and the idea of seeing his girlfriend taking another guy's cock.). 

"But one thing," JJ continued. "We have to say it's a threesome--make it seem like I'm tryin' to experiment or some shit, because she isn't going to agree to just fucking you alone."

In hindsight, Rafe made a really stupid choice by giving JJ his Bently, but as long as he was able to feel you, he didn't care.

So here you were, standing naked between the two hottest blonds on Kildare Island--supposed to be getting into doggy style to let Rafe Cameron fuck you. At the same time, you suck JJ off, all because your stupidly charming boyfriend wanted to try something new in bed, and you can't say no to him when he uses his puppy dog eyes on you. 

But it's not like you weren't totally against the idea--you'd always wanted to know what it was like fucking Kook royalty, Rafe Cameron--you weren't ashamed to admit that. 

Of course, a couple of lines of coke was snorted to get rid of all of everyone jitters, but that still didn't' help your nervousness.

JJ had done all the talking--since, to your knowledge, he was the one to set this shindig up. And because you were JJ's good girl and didn't know what else to do, you did everything JJ told you to do.

"Good girl, now let Rafe see your pussy, don't be shy, princess," JJ spoke so kindly to you, stroking your head softly as you choked on his cock. 

JJ had been very slowly--but harshly fucking his cock with your throat--ever so often, shoving his length as deep as he could go--until you started to gag--then stilling himself and letting your throat contract--while tears and saliva slid down your face. 

You found yourself obeying Jay's words--arching your back more and pushing your ass out to let Rafe view your sopping wet pussy. 

"Shit." Rafe cursed, his thump finding your fold and pushing it back to view the inside of your cunt. "Jay this all your's?" 

"Ain't she a beaut?" Your boyfriend spoke--talking as if you weren't even here--and pushing his cock further into your mouth.

Your eyes watered as you tried to focus on breathing through your nose, JJ's thick length stretching your esophagus.

You start to feel Rafe's fingers probing at your exposed pussy, spreading your folds and teasing your entrance, sending shivers through your body.

"Damn, she's dripping," Rafe marveled, running his fingers along your slick folds. "You mind if I have a taste, Jay?"

"Be my guest," JJ replied, his voice strained with pleasure. "Our good girl loves to please, don't you, princess?"

You whimpered in agreement around JJ's cock, your hips instinctively pushing back against Rafe's touch. You felt Rafe's hot breath on your sensitive flesh moments before his tongue lapped at your entrance. The new sensation made you moan, the vibrations traveling through JJ's length.

"Fuck, that feels good," JJ groaned, "Do that again to her."

Rafe obliged, swirling his tongue around your swollen clit before plunging it inside you. You cried out again, the sound muffled by JJ's cock. Your whole body was on fire, caught between the two men's ministrations.

JJ's fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you bobbed your head. "That's it, take it all," he encouraged.

Meanwhile, Rafe's skilled tongue was rapidly pushing you towards the edge. He alternated between teasing licks and deep thrusts, his strong hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place.

"Fuck, you taste good, sweetheart," Rafe lowly said to you, acknowledging you for the first time as a person, and not like your some dirt bike, and for some reason, you were about to come from this nearly. 

"I think our princess is close," Rafe murmured, his lips brushing against your sensitized flesh, his fingers pushing inside you, to feel your cunt convulse. "Should we let her come, JJ?"

"What do you think, sweetheart?" JJ asked, tilting your chin up to meet his, mascara finally beginning to crack, and run down your cheeks, JJ kissed you on the mouth, because, fuck, did you look hot like this.

Rafe had no right to kiss you ( a deal made before you all started, a deal Rafe should respect because JJ is his best friend). JJ's kiss to your mouth only made Rafe more envious of JJ, and Rafe decided to take out his anger on you, claiming you didn't deserve to come yet.

Rafe's fingers slowed their pace, teasing you mercilessly. You whimpered into JJ's mouth, hips bucking desperately against Rafe's hand.

"Not yet," Rafe growled, his voice rough with desire and a hint of jealousy. "You don't get to come until I say so."

JJ broke the kiss, looking down at you with a mixture of lust and amusement. "Looks like Rafe's feeling a bit possessive, sweetheart. Think you can hold out for us?"

You nodded weakly, trembling with need as Rafe's fingers continued their torturous dance. JJ's hands roamed your body, adding to the overwhelming sensations.

"That's our good girl," JJ purred, nipping at your earlobe. "Show us how well you can behave."

Suddenly, you were feeling Rafe's raw wet mushroom tip poking at your entrance--and fuck, did his cock already feel thicker than JJ's.

Your breath hitched as you felt Rafe's impressive length plunge deep inside your cunt—his hands gripping your hips as he slowly bottomed out inside you.

You gasped at the exquisite stretch, your walls clenching around Rafe's thick cock. He groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he held himself still, giving you time to adjust.

"Fuck, you're tight," Rafe growled, his voice strained with the effort of restraint.

JJ's hands continued their exploration, one sliding up to cup your breast while the other trailed down your stomach. "How does she feel, Rafe? As good as you imagined?"

Rafe responded by slowly withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you, then slamming back in with a powerful thrust that had you crying out in pleasure. JJ swallowed your moans with another deep kiss as Rafe set a punishing pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge you weren't allowed to cross.

"Please," you whimpered as you and Jay caught your breaths--your body jerking up from Rafe's hard thrust into JJ's mouth, allowing you to breath the same air as him--right when you think you've caught a break--Jay's cock is back in your mouth, while you received backshots from Rafe.

Your mind reeled from the overwhelming sensations as you were filled from both ends. JJ's thick length slid deeper into your throat with each of Rafe's powerful thrusts from behind. You struggled to focus, torn between the dual pleasures.

Rafe's grip on your hips tightened as he pounded into you relentlessly. "Fuck, you're taking us so well," he groaned, his voice husky with desire.

JJ's fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you sucked him eagerly. "That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Just like that."

The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and muffled moans. You felt your arousal building to a fever pitch, your body trembling on the edge of release.

When Rafe's tip found that spongy spot, you made a deep moan in your body that had affected JJ cock, and he found himself cumming in your mouth and on your face.

You were so fucked out of your brain, though, because of Rafe's thick cock; you hadn't noticed when your boyfriend had came, and then left the room, leaving you and Rafe to chase your highs together.

And because Rafe's cock had felt so good in doggy style--you didn't mind seeing how his cock felt when he switched the position to missionary.  

Rafe flipped you onto your back with surprising ease, never breaking his relentless rhythm. His dark eyes locked onto yours as he drove deeper, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

From this angle, Rafe could see just how small your slit was in comparison to his cock.

"God, you're incredible," Rafe panted, his muscled chest glistening with sweat. His thumb found your sensitive bundle of nerves, circling in time with his thrusts.

You arched into him, coherent thoughts scattering as the pressure built. "Rafe, I'm so close," you gasped, nails raking down his back.

He growled in response, increasing his pace. "Come for me, beautiful. Let me feel you."

With a cry of ecstasy, your release washed over you in waves. Rafe followed moments later, burying himself to the halt inside of you.

And just as Rafe was cumming, he found himself getting lost in the moment and kissing your rosy red glossy lips, and again, because you were so fucked out, you'd let him. 

As the both of you came down from your highs, Rafe lips stayed in motion with yours, his cock still stuffed inside side you--plugging his and your juices in. He shifted slightly, still buried inside you, and you gasped at the sensitivity.

Your body trembled with aftershocks as Rafe's lips moved languidly against yours. The kiss was rough, passionate, yet tender - so different from your boyfriend's soft demeanor. You found yourself melting into it, savoring the unexpected intimacy.

The kiss between you and Rafe could've lasted forever- if only your boyfriend hadn't walked in, asking his best friend why he was kissing his girlfriend, the last person Rafe should be kissing.

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[d-z20]

Venus in Bloom (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: A reckless mistake with a love potion leaves you at the mercy of two insatiable succubi, their supernatural hunger driving them to claim every inch of you without restraint. Between the claws, the fangs, and the teasing magic that coils around their skin, you quickly learn what it truly means to be devoured by a succubus.

-OR-

As it turns out magical creatures of lust and love potions do not mix which results in you getting fucked by Agatha and Rio, like a lot, but it's your fault really

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Agatha and Rio are succubi so monster fucking, reader is a potions witch, top agathario, bottom reader, magic cock (A has, Reader recv), oral (Reader recv), thigh grinding (R does), porn with little to no plot, overstimulation, squirting, breeding/creampie, threesome, face-sitting

Words: 4.7k

A/N: Everyone is doing valentines fics and I'm not but this includes a love potion so I'm going to pretend it was on purpose 😂 Requested fic :)

AO3 | Masterlist

The scent of crushed herbs and simmering elixirs curled through the air, thick with magic and lingering heat from the flickering candlelight. You moved swiftly through your workshop, the sleeves of your robe pushed up to your elbows, hands busy grinding a handful of dried hibiscus petals into a fine powder. The pestle moved in slow, rhythmic circles, a familiar motion that should have been meditative but your mind wandered.

The cauldron in the centre of the room bubbled gently, its contents shimmering with an iridescent sheen. A single drop of the wrong ingredient could shift its purpose entirely, and yet, despite knowing this, you barely spared it a glance as you reached for a vial of honey-thick nectar resting beside you. You were distracted.

It wasn’t your fault, not really.

Not when two succubi shared your home, moving like sin incarnate through your space, leaving temptation in their wake as effortlessly as breathing. Agatha and Rio were creatures of hunger—lust woven into the very fabric of their existence—and while they spared you from their predatory nature, they did nothing to temper the pull of their presence.

And, as if conjured by your thoughts alone, Rio’s laughter drifted in from the other room.

It was a warm, low sound, filled with mischief, the kind of laugh that always meant trouble. You exhaled through your nose, setting the vial down with careful precision. Whatever she was up to, it was best not to get involved. Not when you were this close to finishing your work.

The love potion had been an afterthought—a test, an experiment, something to keep stored away for research rather than practical use. You had no intention of actually using it. Succubi had no need for artificial desire; their own abilities surpassed anything that could be brewed in a bottle. Still, curiosity had led you to concoct it, blending rare aphrodisiacs with dreamroot essence, a few drops of moon-kissed wine, and a dash of honeyed rose oil.

It was potent. Dangerously so.

And you should have tucked it away the moment you were done, sealed it within a warded chest where it could do no harm. But you hadn’t.

Instead, the vial sat unguarded amidst your collection of more harmless elixirs, the deep crimson liquid glistening under the candlelight. A temptation disguised as an innocent draught.

And, as fate would have it, Rio’s curiosity was as boundless as her appetite.

You didn’t notice when she entered, didn’t see the gleam of intrigue in her sharp golden eyes as she plucked the vial from its resting place. The moment your back was turned, she lifted it to inspect the contents, swirling the liquid idly.

It smelt… expensive. Rich. Decadent, like spiced fruit and something dangerously sweet. Her forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, and her pupils dilated with interest.

This was new.

She liked new things.

Without a second thought, she slipped out of the workshop, the vial tucked between her fingers, her mind already racing with the possibilities.

—

Agatha was lounging in the sitting room when Rio found her, half-draped across the velvet couch, one arm resting lazily over the back. She looked every inch the predator she was, dark eyes hooded with a perpetual, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She was dressed down, her usual structured coat abandoned in favour of her half-unbuttoned shirt and loose slacks. Her feet were bare, her hair still mussed from sleep, yet she exuded control.

Rio slid up beside her, draping herself over the armrest with casual ease. "Brought you something," she purred, twirling the bottle between her fingers before offering it up with a smug grin.

Agatha arched a brow, reaching for it without hesitation. "What’s this?"

"Something Y/N made," Rio hummed, watching as Agatha uncorked the vial. "Figured it’s one of their fancy elixirs. Thought you might like it."

Agatha inhaled slowly, rolling the scent over her tongue. There was something odd about it, but it wasn’t unpleasant. On the contrary, it smelt delicious. A rush of warmth tingled at the back of her throat, her body responding instinctively before she had even taken a sip.

Rio should have stopped her.

She could have stopped her.

But she didn’t.

She just watched as Agatha tipped the bottle back and swallowed it whole.

It hit her like wildfire.

One moment, Agatha was lounging with an air of effortless control, and the next, she was bolting upright, her spine going rigid, her pupils blown wide.

Heat. Unrelenting, all-consuming heat.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth, her claws digging into the upholstery as she gripped the edge of the cushion, bracing herself. The burn was instantaneous, roaring through her veins, pooling deep in her core.

What the fuck—

Her mind reeled, but her body knew exactly what it wanted.

She was starving.

It was wrong, unnatural. Succubi didn’t need help feeling desire—they were desire—and yet, whatever had been in that vial had amplified her hunger tenfold. Her tail flicked behind her restlessly, her breath coming short and sharp, and her fangs throbbed with the urge to sink into something soft, something pliant.

Rio blinked at her, watching as her typically controlled partner came undone in real-time. "Uh… Ags?"

Agatha snapped her gaze toward her, and Rio visibly stiffened.

Agatha was never desperate. She was the calm one, the controlled one, the one who always kept her hunger in check. But not now.

Now, her pupils were nothing but thin golden rings swallowed by black, her lips parted just enough to reveal the sharp gleam of her canines, her chest rising and falling far too quickly.

Rio’s fingers twitched involuntarily, her own body reacting to the shift in the air. Power, heat, and lust. The room was suddenly thick with it, suffocating, heavy enough to drown in.

And then, as if realising exactly what had happened, Agatha turned her head toward the workshop—toward you.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "I need them," she growled, voice lower, rougher, her control already slipping.

Rio exhaled sharply, eyes widening. "Oh. Oh."

For the first time in centuries, she might have actually fucked up.

And you were about to find out just how badly.

—

You felt the air in the cottage thicken, charged with something potent—something unnatural. It slithered through the dimly lit space like invisible smoke, curling around you, settling into your lungs with every breath you took.

Something was wrong.

The magic in the walls whispered warnings, the candles flickering wildly in their holders despite the absence of a breeze. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, an instinctual prickle at the back of your neck telling you that something powerful had been unleashed.

And then you felt two ravenous, predatory forces—one sharp and crackling like lightning, the other slow-burning and consuming like an ever-hungry fire. The tether between you thrummed, an invisible thread of magic stretched taut, vibrating with a heat that wasn’t entirely your own.

You turned just as Agatha stepped into the doorway.

Her composure—her usual air of effortless, knowing control—was shattered. What stood before you wasn’t the measured, cunning succubus who prided herself on restraint. No, this was something else entirely.

Her pupils were nothing but dark pools, golden irises reduced to thin, molten rings. Her breathing was slow and deliberate, like a creature struggling to leash itself, though every inhale seemed to make it worse. Her normally neat attire was in disarray, her shirt rumpled, collar askew as though she’d clawed at her own skin in a desperate attempt to cool herself down.

She looked starved.

A soft thud behind her signalled Rio’s arrival, and when your gaze flickered past Agatha, you found her in a similar state—if not worse.

Unlike Agatha, who was still barely clinging to her composure, Rio was already half-feral. Her lips were parted, sharper fangs glinting in the candlelight. Her tail lashed behind her, the spade-shaped tip curling, uncurling, betraying the sheer magnitude of her agitation.

And when she exhaled—you felt it.

A heat coiled low in your gut, winding itself around your ribs, pressing. It wasn’t meant to be for you, not directly—you were not prey, you were not a target—but their hunger had grown too wild, too untethered, and their instincts didn’t care for the technicalities.

Agatha’s fingers flexed at her sides, her knuckles nearly white with restraint. Barely leashed, barely holding on.

“Y/N.”

Your name came out low, more exhale than word, more prayer than plea.

And by the Divine Mother, that was dangerous because succubi didn’t beg. Succubi took.

Your pulse quickened, but not from fear. This wasn’t the carefully measured seduction you were used to. It wasn’t playful temptation—the slow game they so often relished—this was raw.

Primal.

Uncontrolled.

You swallowed hard, taking a slow, deliberate step toward them, and the reaction was instantaneous.

Rio’s breath hitched; she crossed and uncrossed her arms, as though trying to shield herself from the unbearable ache thrumming through her body. Agatha’s jaw clenched, her fingers twitching like she wanted to reach for you but knew she shouldn’t.

"Tell me what happened," you said, voice steady despite the way the energy licked at your skin, despite the way your own magic—so much weaker than theirs, so mortal—shuddered under the pressure of it.

Rio let out a breathless, shaky laugh, but it held none of her usual mirth. "Funny story," she muttered. "I may have… kind of… accidentally… given Agatha a potion."

You frowned, tilting your head. "What potion?"

Agatha’s nails dug into the doorframe, her chest rising and falling, every breath seeming to cost her something. "The one you left on your desk."

And just like that, realisation slammed into you.

The love potion.

The highly concentrated, dangerously potent love potion.

The one not meant for actual consumption—especially not by creatures who already thrived on desire.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Your stomach dropped, your breath hitching, not in fear but in sheer, undeniable understanding.

Succubi were designed to handle lust. It was their nature, their essence. But they were also designed to control it. To wield it rather than succumb to it.

This potion?

It had burnt through their natural restraints like kindling on an open flame.

And now they were left unsated, unable to quench the inferno no matter how hard they tried.

Agatha let out a harsh breath, her fingers twitching. "Y/N," she said again, and this time it was a warning.

Because she was so close to losing what little control she had left.

Because she was starving for something only you could give her.

You felt the pull, the same one that had always existed between you, the one that was usually tempered by their restraint but now burnt, raw and untethered. They needed you.

Not as prey.

Not as a conquest.

But as something else entirely.

And maybe, just maybe, you were more than willing to oblige.

Agatha’s breath hitched as her last thread of restraint snapped. In a blink, she was on you, pressing you down into the bed with a force that sent a shiver straight through your core. Her claws curled into the fabric around your wrists, pinning you in place as the heat of her radiated into your skin.

Her pupils were nothing but thin rings of gold, swallowed by the black hunger of her gaze. Her body shifted against you, the air rippling with raw, unfiltered magic as her succubus nature surfaced in full. Claws elongated, her fangs peeking past parted lips, the scent of heady desire thick between you.

Behind you, Rio slinked in with practiced ease, her body curving around yours as she caged you between them. You barely had time to gasp before she hooked her legs around yours, spreading them open effortlessly. Her voice was a molten whisper against your ear, her lips brushing over your skin as she chuckled.

“Fuck, I’ve never seen her like this before,” she murmured, her tail curling teasingly around your thigh. “You really should’ve kept that potion locked away, huh?”

Your pulse pounded against your ribs. There was no escape, no space to think or breathe, but you didn’t want to escape. Not when they were both so desperate, their need vibrating through every fibre of your being.

Agatha growled low, the sound vibrating through your bones as she leaned down, her lips ghosting over your throat. “I need you,” she rasped, a confession that sent heat pooling between your thighs.

Her magic surged, the air around her shimmering as she shape-shifted, the scent of pure, unfiltered want thickening. Your breath hitched as she ground against you—a new, unmistakable bulge in her slacks pressed firmly against your core. Even through the layers, the heat of it was overwhelming.

Rio let out an appreciative hum, her fingers trailing down your arms, tracing the shape of your body as she pressed teasing kisses along your shoulder. “Oh, she’s really gone,” she purred, voice thick with amusement. “You’ve made our dear Agatha completely lose control. I wonder what she’ll do to you.”

There was no teasing, no slow buildup. Agatha was too far gone for that. With a snarl, she made quick work of your clothing, her claws slicing through the fabric at your crotch, tearing it open without care. A strangled moan escaped you as the cool air met with your heated skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Agatha pressing flush against you, her hips rolling, grinding against your exposed core.

She exhaled shakily, her composure unravelling as she reached between you, unbuttoning her slacks, just enough to free herself, just enough to wrap a clawed hand around the thick, twitching cock she had conjured, her breath catching as she stroked herself once and then twice, a needy, desperate sound spilling from her lips at the sensation. Her lips parted, panting, utterly wrecked with hunger.

Rio’s fingers danced along your stomach, teasing, but she wasn’t cruel enough to delay things. She tilted your chin, brushing her lips over your ear. “She’s going to ruin you, love,” she whispered. “And you’re going to love every second of it.”

Then Rio groaned, pressing her forehead to the back of your neck, her fingers gripping your thighs as she rutted against you, the heat of her own need searing through layers of clothing.

“Fuck,” Agatha muttered, almost pained. “I can’t—I need—”

She cut herself off, lining herself up, swiping her tip through your arousal, groaning deep at the wet heat of you. The sensation sent a shiver through her entire frame, her claws digging into the mattress as she forced herself to savour it, to hold back even a fraction of her need.

Her body trembled with restraint she barely had. And then she gave in.

The first thrust was deep, a sharp stretch that had your back arching, a cry spilling from your lips as she filled you. Agatha moaned, a guttural, broken sound as she bottomed out, her forehead pressing against yours.

She started with slow, deep strokes, but it wasn’t long before the potion’s effects overrode any semblance of patience she had left. Her pace turned frenzied, hips pistoning into you with a force that had the bed rocking beneath you.

Rio held you steady, her tail coiling around your waist, her breath hot against your ear as she murmured sweet, filthy praises about how good you looked taking Agatha like this, how wrecked you sounded. She kept you grounded, kept you from unravelling too quickly—but even she couldn’t hold back forever.

The moment Agatha came, a strangled moan spilling from her lips as she shuddered against you, Rio let out a frustrated whine, her fingers tightening around your thighs.

“My turn,” she huffed.

Before you could catch your breath, they were moving you with supernatural ease, handling your body like you were made of nothing but air. You barely had time to register the shift before you found yourself straddling Rio’s face, her forked tongue flicking out in anticipation, her golden eyes blown wide with lust as she watched you hover mere inches away.

Your fingers instinctively wrapped around her horns, gripping them for balance—and the moment you did, Rio gasped, her eyes fluttering shut, a whimper escaping her lips as pleasure visibly shot through her. Her tail curled, body arching, her sensitivity betrayed in that single moment of weakness.

Agatha, ever the dominant one, took advantage of your distraction. She positioned herself behind you, pressing her front against your back, her lips ghosting over your shoulder as she reached around, her hands skimming your body. A slow, satisfied hum vibrated through her chest as she traced idle patterns over your sweat-damp skin, her touch both possessive and reverent.

“No one else gets to experience us in this way,” she whispered, her voice dark and edged with something dangerously close to obsession. “You don’t understand how rare this is, do you?” Her sharp teeth grazed the shell of your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “Creatures like us... we don’t get to be unrestrained without consequence. We take. We consume. We drain. We ruin.” Her fingers tightened against your hips. “But you? You survive us. You endure. You take everything we give, and you still breathe.”

She exhaled slowly, pressing a lingering kiss to your pulse, savouring the rapid flutter beneath her lips. “That makes you ours.”

The words sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, and as if sensing it, Rio let out a pleased hum. Then, without warning, she pulled you down onto her mouth, her tongue immediately lapping at you.

A strangled moan escaped you, your grip on Rio’s horns tightening involuntarily. She let out a shuddering breath against you, her entire body tensing before melting into the mattress again. Her fingers dug into your thighs, firm but reverent, keeping you open for her as she dragged her forked tongue in slow, languid strokes, savouring every reaction she pulled from you.

“Fuck,” Rio groaned, voice muffled against your skin. “You—ngh, you really know how to handle me, huh? Holding my horns like that—” She cut herself off with a needy whimper, the sound sending a fresh wave of heat through you. “Fuck, I could keep you here forever.”

The pleasure was dizzying, an intoxicating blend of firm pressure and teasing flicks that left your nerves singing. Your thighs trembled as you rocked against her, seeking more, losing yourself in the sensation. Every brush of her tongue sent another spark shooting up your spine, winding the coil in your stomach impossibly tight.

Another broken moan spilled from your lips as Rio groaned beneath you, her grip on your hips flexing as she pulled you down harder, determined to make you fall apart completely. Your body trembled, your mind lost in the haze of their touch, of the way they surrounded you, overwhelmed you, worshipped you with a greedy mouth and hands that refused to let you go.

“More,” Rio demanded against you, her voice husky, pleading. “I need more.”

That coil in your stomach twisted impossibly tight, and then—it snapped. Your orgasm tore through you in a dizzying rush, your whole body tensing, back arching as a strangled cry escaped you. The pleasure surged like a storm, white-hot and overwhelming, leaving you shaking in its wake. But Rio didn't stop.

She moaned into you, the vibrations sending aftershocks coursing through your oversensitive nerves. Her tongue lapped at you, relentless, as if she had no intention of letting you come down from the high she'd just wrenched from you. Your thighs trembled, your grip on her horns tightening, half to ground yourself, half in a desperate attempt to push away from the unbearable pleasure.

"Rio—" Your voice came out broken, breathless, but she only growled in response, her fingers digging into your hips to keep you where she wanted. "N-No, I—"

"Yes," Rio murmured, her voice dripping with hunger. "You're not done. I can feel it." She dragged her forked tongue over you again slowly, letting you feel every agonising flick. "You can take it."

Your body jolted at the sensation, torn between oversensitivity and the maddening need she kept feeding. There was no escape—just the sensation of her mouth, the overwhelming heat, the slick slide of her tongue as she worked you open again, coaxing another wave of arousal from you before you even had the chance to recover.

For a while, Agatha seemed content to watch, her hands roaming your body, her claws teasing the sensitive spots she had memorised. But her restraint was never meant to last.

"You’re cruel, Rio," she mused, her voice sultry but laced with impatience. "Making them beg without even using words."

Her fingers slid up your torso, tracing every shiver, every twitch, until they wrapped around your throat in a firm, possessive hold. She didn’t squeeze—just held you there, reminded you of who had you, who was unravelling you so thoroughly.

"But if you’re going to ruin them," Agatha purred, her other hand sliding lower, "then I might as well help."

Soon enough, she was lining herself up once more, her magic cock pressing against your entrance once more, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I can’t wait any longer,” she whispered, her voice strained. “I need to be inside you again.”

She thrust in, and the sensation of both of them at once shattered the last of your composure. A desperate, keening cry tore from your throat, your body quivering, helpless between them. Every nerve burnt, every inch of you claimed, stretched, overwhelmed in the most intoxicating way.

Agatha’s pace was relentless, deep, and hungry, the force of her movements driving you further into Rio’s mouth, into the wet heat that refused to let up. Each thrust rocked you forward, pressing your clit against Rio’s eager tongue, her forked tip lapping at you with an unholy precision.

The room was filled with the sounds of slick heat, muffled cries, and the guttural groans of the two succubi chasing their pleasure. Agatha cursed breathlessly, the magic in her voice thick with desperation as she ground into you, hips snapping with a bruising force.

"So perfect," she murmured, her breath ragged against your ear. "Taking us both like you were made for it."

Rio moaned in agreement beneath you, the vibrations sparking another wave of pleasure that made your muscles seize. Your fingers tangled tighter in her horns, a lifeline against the dizzying sensations, and the sharp gasp that left her lips told you just how much she felt it.

"Fuck," Rio whimpered, the sound muffled, desperate. Her nails dug into your thighs as she rocked her hips against Agatha’s thigh, chasing her own pleasure even as she focused on yours.

Agatha smirked, her control fracturing as she felt the desperate rutting against her leg. "I see you’re just as needy," she taunted, pressing her thigh harder between Rio’s legs, feeling the heat there.

Rio’s whine was high-pitched and desperate, her tongue flicking against your most sensitive spot as she sought her own high. Her thighs trembled, grinding shamelessly, her pleasure tipping over the edge as you tugged on her horns again, sending another sharp jolt of sensation through her. She tensed beneath you, crying out, her body shuddering as she climaxed.

The sensation of her moaning against you, the slick drag of Agatha pounding into you, the heat, the sounds—it was too much. Your own release crashed over you, a blinding, shattering thing that left you breathless, your body shaking violently between them.

Agatha wasn’t far behind. A strangled groan escaped her lips, her hands gripping your waist with bruising force as she buried herself deep, her body shuddering through the force of her release. She pressed you down harder against Rio, grinding through the final aftershocks, her breath hot against your skin.

For a moment, there was only heavy breathing, the scent of sweat and sex thick in the air, the three of you tangled together in a mess of limbs, pleasure, and exhaustion. But their nature and the potion’s hold were unrelenting. No matter how many times they came, the hunger didn’t abate.

They kept going, over and over, their bodies moving in sync, driven by a primal need that refused to fade. You were lost between them, overstimulated, and overwhelmed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

—

Agatha was relentless, her thrusts growing erratic as she chased another orgasm, every snap of her hips sending shockwaves through your exhausted body. Rio, still buried between your thighs, never faltered, her tongue working you open, dragging pleasure from you even as your body trembled violently from the sheer force of it all.

You sobbed out their names, hands weakly clutching at Rio’s horns, thighs trembling against her cheeks. Agatha groaned above you, her grip bruising as she forced you down onto Rio’s mouth, her climax barreling through her with a raw, unfiltered intensity. She cursed, hips stuttering, her body shuddering against yours, as she came inside you yet again.

The sensation of Agatha’s cum dripping out of your overfilled cunt onto her chin sent Rio over the edge, her moan vibrating through you, her hips jerking as she rutted against Agatha’s thigh one last time. But it was the final stroke against your already wrecked bundle of nerves, the last push, that shattered you entirely.

A scream tore from your throat as pleasure consumed you—so intense, so overwhelming that your body seized, every muscle locking up before your climax hit like a tidal wave. The evidence of your orgasm drenched Rio’s face, spilling down her chin and onto the collar of her still-clothed chest.

Rio let out a shuddering sigh, her tongue sweeping over her lips as if she refused to let a single drop go to waste. Agatha, still draped over you, exhaled deeply, her grip on your hips finally loosening as the last tremors of pleasure faded into a slow, throbbing aftershock. The heat that had consumed all three of you had finally begun to ebb, leaving behind nothing but the weight of exhaustion and the sticky, intoxicating remnants of what had transpired.

The only sounds that remained were the slow, laboured breaths of the three tangled bodies lying amidst the wreckage of their lust. The fire that had burnt so violently through Agatha and Rio had finally dimmed, leaving behind the languid, syrupy pleasure of satisfaction.

Agatha, ever the controlled one, had collapsed first. She lay half-draped over you, her bare skin fever-warm, her breath ghosting over your throat as she pressed against you with a weight that was possessive, grounding. Even in her exhaustion, her arms caged you in, a silent claim, as if making sure you wouldn’t slip away.

She exhaled a slow, satisfied breath, but the moment was short-lived.

“You,” she rasped, tilting her head just enough to glare at Rio through heavy-lidded eyes, “are a menace.”

Rio, sprawled beside you, utterly wrecked but still smug as sin, let out a breathless chuckle. “C’mon, Ags,” she purred, voice raw from use, her tail flicking lazily against your leg. “You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

Agatha huffed, pressing her face into the crook of your neck. “That is not the point.”

You, still trembling, mind fogged from overwhelming pleasure, groaned softly. “I am never leaving a love potion unattended again.”

Rio, ever the troublemaker, grinned. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, propping herself up on one elbow to trace lazy fingers down your sweat-slicked skin. “I don’t know... You took both of us so well. Maybe we should make this a regular thing.”

You managed a weak glare, but it lacked any real venom. “Absolutely not.”

But Agatha and Rio exchanged a glance above you, something conspiratorial in the flick of their golden eyes, the curl of their lips.

Oh, they were definitely going to make sure this happened again.

-----

yeah that's right, I made their horns sensitive (I came very close to having Rio be able to cum just from Reader holding on to them but I added thigh grinding because it's hot :P)

-----

taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6stolenangel9 @jujuu23 @juls-stark

[nadvs]

please can we have sleeping with the enemy reader taking care of rafe with his hangover (from your last blurb) 😚😚

aaaa yes omg the fluff! (and the everyone but them can see it trope!) (and the overdue confession!) 🙂‍↕️

based on this fic, continutation of this blurb

rafe can’t even open his eyes yet. he feels like he’s an inch away from death.

about a month ago, he moved out of his dorm and into a house with a group of his teammates. it was a nightmare securing a lease on a house because of the reputation athletes have left on the landlords off campus.

but because rafe was the one who worked so hard on getting the house, and because he’s the team captain, he got the biggest and best room, ensuite attached.

it’s in the top floor. it’s quiet. it gets the best ac. but no amount of ac can make the sickening heat of the hangover he has this morning any better.

he finally opens his eyes. she’s not beside him. if he remembers correctly, he asked her to sleep over last night. and… goddamn it, he called her his girlfriend.

there’s a good chance he scared her away. they’re best friends who hook up sometimes. that’s it. no matter how much his teammates - at least the ones who have the balls to - fuck with him about it.

a few nights ago, a girl struck up conversation with rafe at a party and one of his buddies told her not to bother because ‘he’s basically married’ and the crazy thing is, he let her believe it. he hasn’t hooked up with another girl in ages. he hasn’t wanted to.

it got to him. maybe that’s why he slipped up last night, calling her his girlfriend. if he remembers right, it’s like they agreed to being something more in a roundabout, drunken way. or maybe she was just humoring him and is planning to let him down easy when they’re both sober.

she’s in the kitchen, wearing one of rafe’s shirts, cutting up what little fruit the guys have lying around. the blender was a bitch to clean, tacked with residual protein powder.

she’s awake before everyone, making rafe a smoothie to help cure his hangover. this is 100% girlfriend behavior. she’s doing the absolute most. she knows that.

she tells herself it’s because they’re best friends. she’d do the same for any other friend. but doing it for rafe feels so much more gratifying than if she did it for anyone else.

as she drops banana slices into the blender, she thinks about the regret that washed over rafe’s face last night.

she wonders why he so obviously wished he hadn’t called her his girlfriend. was it because he accidentally exposed what he really thinks of her? or because he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea?

she blends the smoothie, cleans up and pads upstairs to rafe’s bedroom. when she opens the door, he’s sprawled out on his bed, down to his boxers, the duvet half-covering his body.

she’s seen him naked so many times before. but this weirdly feels like it’s the most intimate they’ve ever been.

“did you take my clothes off last night?” rafe grumbles, staring up at the ceiling.

“somehow,” she answers. “i fell on my ass trying to pull your jeans off.”

“oh, yeah,” he laughs. he heard her fall to the floor in the dark. it was hilarious. but then he clutches his head. even laughing hurts. “fuck.”

“imagine how bad you’d feel if i didn’t force water on you last night. you’re welcome, by the way,” she says.

she places the glass on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed, glad she only had a couple of drinks last night.

“i made you a smoothie. you need to replenish.”

his tired blue eyes finally land on her. he takes her in, the way her brows are knitted in concern, the way she looks in his shirt.

“and your blender was disgusting,” she adds. “it’s pretty sad that a whole group of grown men don’t know how to properly wash dishes. it took me forever to clean it.”

“you’re talking too much,” he rasps, massaging his temple with his thumb.

normally, she’d tease him back. she knows he’s joking. but the joke doesn’t land. she looks away.

in the sober brightness of the morning, she realizes she feels stupid. they agreed they were just friends, but she’s playing house and acting like a girlfriend to someone who either doesn’t want her like that, or does and won’t admit to it when he’s not drunk.

she doesn’t mind taking care of him. but she’s catching feelings. how can she be friends with someone when every second that passes that they’re not more than that feels like a little dose of rejection?

they’ve always been direct with each other. at some point, that stopped. at least on her side.

“i’m fucking with you,” rafe clarifies. “thank you.”

she scoffs. he hardly ever has manners. she must really look mad.

“sure,” she says. she leans forward, picking up and handing him the smoothie, knowing he’s too tired to get it himself. “do you remember what you said last night?”

rafe’s eyes dart away. he rakes back his tousled hair, sitting up slowly to hold the smoothie. tortuously slow, he takes a sip, making her wait for his answer.

“what’d i say?” he mumbles.

she tilts her head, her lips in a firm line. he said he wouldn’t be embarrassed the next day. he’s acting like he is now, though. or maybe he really doesn’t remember.

she suddenly feels bad for pushing this heavy of a conversation on him when he’s clearly exhausted and feeling so terrible.

“we’ll talk about it later,” she says. it gives rafe a wave of anxiety. maybe she’s planning to let him down gently. to tell him they can’t be more than friends. “hydrate, got it?”

she stands, pulling his shirt off over her head.

“where are you going?” he asks, watching her bend over to pick up last night’s clothes.

“home,” she says. “text me if you wanna hang out later when you feel human again.”

she leaves. he lets her.

he’s in a funk the rest of the morning. he eventually finds the strength to take a shower. he eats his first meal at three p.m.

when he sees the blender on the drying rack in the kitchen, his chest tightens. this isn’t normal. he shouldn’t miss someone he saw just this morning. but he does.

and whatever happened last night is hanging over him. if he knows her, he knows it’s bothering her, too.

he texts her: feeling human again. u busy?

she replies: i’m free and starving.

he smirks at his phone. pick you up in 30

when she sinks into the passenger seat of his suv, she’s uneasy. jittery. as if this is a first date. but when she takes in how tense he looks, she pushes all her feelings away.

“what’s wrong?” she asks. “you good?”

“i’m… this feels weird,” he admits. she stills. so it’s not just her who senses it.

“weird how?”

“what do you wanna eat?” he asks. “where am i going?”

“you’re staying here until you tell me what’s up.”

rafe chews on his lip. he turns his key, shutting the car off, parked in front of her dorm building. he knows there’s no point in arguing with her. she can be stubborn.

“weird how?” she repeats.

“like… i’m nervous or something.”

rafe has known for a while now that he’s someone else around her. or maybe he’s actually himself, and she’s the only person who coaxes it out of him.

“nervous?” she echoes. rafe is only ever nervous before an important game, and even then, he’s more hyped up to win than anything.

he can’t take it anymore. he’d rather rip off the bandaid.

“be straight with me,” he says. “what’d i say that you wanted to talk about?”

she can’t recall the last time she felt so shy around him, if ever.

“do you remember calling me your girlfriend?” she says.

he shuffles in his seat, expelling a heavy breath.

“if i fucked things up, just say it,” he rasps.

“so, you remember?”

“yeah.”

“do you remember how you said you wouldn’t be embarrassed for saying it?”

“yeah,” he mutters sharply. “can you get to the point?”

“can you not be a dick right now?” she says.

he sighs. can’t she tell he’s anxious?

“are you?” she says. “embarrassed, i mean?”

“no,” rafe begins. “i’m annoyed that i said it. it made things awkward.”

“it did,” she agrees.

“okay,” he huffs. “so what now?”

she clasps her hands together in her lap, looking out at the side mirror. she could just say they can forget about it. grab takeout. go back to normal. but going back to normal kind of feels impossible.

“my friends always tell me we act like a couple,” she finally says. “this morning, i was washing your dishes and organizing your fridge and i thought, they’re right. this is the kind of stuff a girl in a relationship does. but then i was like, no it’s not like that. we’re just best friends. but then last night... you said you’d be a good boyfriend.”

“mhm,” he says, bracing for the rejection. the let’s just be friends. or worse, the things are too weird now and we should probably stop hanging out.

she swallows hard.

“i wanted to know if… did something change? were you just drunk or do you actually want to…” she trails off.

for once, it feels odd saying her thoughts out loud to him. because he was always as adamant about not wanting commitment as she was. things have gotten so messy all because he blurted something out last night.

rafe stares at her profile as she looks out the window. she’d fiddling impatiently, like she was the night they first talked at the bar months ago, waiting for someone to take her drink order.

“the guys mess with me about it, too,” he tells her. “they say we act like we’re married or some shit.”

she quirks her eyebrows. they basically do. they see each other almost every day. they bicker. they’re constantly subconsciously touching, whether it’s through joined hands or bumped knees. they have too many inside jokes. they take care of each other. she reminds him of things he can’t afford to forget, like appointments or exams. he makes sure she eats and he pays for everything they do together.

“i don’t look at other girls,” he confesses. “and i know you get hit on when you go out, but it never goes anywhere. i… okay, yeah, fine, something did change at some point. i don’t know when.”

for the first time since she got in the car, she cracks a smile. they’re best friends who are ridiculously attracted to each other and joined at the hip. if that’s not a relationship, what is?

“are we already kind of dating?” she says, finally meeting his eyes.

rafe breathes a chuckle, the heaviness in his chest lifting all at once.

everything was always so easy with her. he assumed it’s because they had no expectations between them. but that wasn’t it. in reality, they had been quietly meeting each other’s expectations without having to try.

“yeah. we are,” he says.

her eyelids flutter as she looks down, gazing at his hand splayed over the dark denim on his thigh. her stomach is numb. her mind is buzzing.

“how’d you get so lucky?” she teases.

rafe doesn’t even have it in him to joke back. he needs to touch her. he leans forward, cradling her jaw, capturing her lips in his.

they’ve kissed a thousand times before. but never like this. this is a kiss that says there’s an understanding that she’s his and he’s hers. and maybe it took them a while to realize that, but now that they’re here, they’re not going back.

(continuation)

[jukasorganicco]

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Quality and Purity: Select products that emphasize quality and purity. Avoid those with unnecessary additives and focus on those that use natural, high-quality ingredients.

Taste and Preference: Since you’ll be using it daily, choose a product with a taste that suits you. Consistency is easier to maintain as a result.

Finding the best liquid multivitamin involves evaluating factors like nutrient content, absorption, and ingredient quality. By choosing wisely and incorporating these natural supplements into your routine, you’re taking a significant step towards better health. Don't forget to speak with a medical expert to customize your supplement selections to your unique requirements and wellness objectives.

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