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velarisdusk · 4 months ago

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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 ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

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.

#acotar #lucien vanserra #lucien #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra acotar #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #smut #lucien smut #lucien vanserra smut #i made him a bit of a romantic and i am not sorry at all #also i kinda make a dig at tamlin in the beginning #im not anti tamlin i swear #i was before tbh but he's grown on me

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talesof-old · 7 months ago

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breaking | j.p.

pairing(s): james potter x gn!reader

warning(s): angst, breakups, leaving long term relationships, implied unfaithfulness (james doesn’t actually cheat), other woman lily evans, reader deserves better, idk this isn’t proofread or edited, they could never make me hate you lily

word count: 1.2k

a/n: sorry this took me so long, i’ve been teaching myself to crochet and i’m also trying to leave my current job

masterlist

james potter + relationship breakup + no happy ending

It used to be easy, saying James Potter was the best boyfriend you’d ever had.

He’d gone out of his way to shower you in affection and prove himself a capable partner. He’d remembered every important date, what your favorite things were, and why you hated the things you hated. James had been perfect.

You leaned back in your chair. Pieces of parchment littered the desktop, ink staining the expensive wood. You’d given up on caring. A glance at the clock on the wall gave you the time.

22:15.

You huffed. Date night, James had said, like that would fix whatever this was.

This, really, was a wedge driven in unknowingly by one Miss Lily Evans. You couldn’t blame her, really. If you’d asked, she would back away from her friendship with James and be perfectly content. That’s what made it so hard to hate her. She liked you, and would do anything to maintain your friendship.

Instead, like a fool, you’d believed James when he said he’d be home early to have dinner with you. After an hour had passed you’d changed out of your nice clothes and into a pair of pajamas, choosing to work to pass the time. About twenty minutes later, you heard the front door open.

In shuffled a weary James, glasses askew and hair messy. Your heart clenched. Here stood the boy (now man) you’d given your heart to years ago. Here he was, breaking it.

“Hey.” Your voice filled the dimly light room, echoing in the bare corners like some evil spirit.

He looked up at you, eyes blinking owlishly as he tugged off his shoes. It took just a second for the image of you to register. His lips twisted into a guilty grimace, though you weren’t sure he was genuinely regretful.

As he approached, you were hit with a wave of floral and ink perfume. You sighed. Lily’s perfume, which she’d found sometime during your time at Hogwarts and stuck to, was far from unfamiliar. It suited her beautifully, though currently it clung to your skin like aa unwanted disease.

“I’m sorry, we got caught up at the pub.” You nodded. The boys night Sirius had proposed. To forget everything going on for one night. Perhaps you should’ve told James just to stay at your friends’ flat tonight instead.

“We had plans.” Your voice wavered, the telltale sign of tears burning your throat. James nodded solemnly. He made to reach for you, but seemed to second guess himself as you shied away.

“I’m sorry, honey, but Pads wanted to stay-“

“Okay.” The finality in your tone had him pausing, brow furrowed. You moved then, gathering up your papers as tears pricked at your eyes. The rational part of you knew that you needed to speak up about your feelings in order to make a change, but you also didn’t feel like you should have to. James made plans with you, his partner; surely that was just as important?

“I’m going to bed.”

Defeat swirled in your gut. Tomorrow, you’d call Mary. If she couldn’t give you advice, she’d at least help you pack up your things.

“Honey, please.” Something desperate filled his tone. You clicked your tongue to distract yourself from the heaviness in your chest. James stepped forward.

“I just lost track of time, promise. I’ll make it up to you.” You shook your head. This was the make up. This was the second chance. Not a single bone in your body wanted to give him a third. It wasn’t fair to expect you to continue to shatter your heart just for him. You cared more about yourself than that to let it continue.

“You already made a promise like that James, don’t lie to me.” Irritation flashed across his face.

“I’m not lying.” You huffed, clutching your papers in your hands. You’d leave the ink. He’d probably need it more than you.

“Merlin, You told me that the last time, James. What else am I supposed to believe?” He ran a hand through his messy curls. “I don’t understand.”

An incredulous expression took up residence on your face. You blinked furiously as you looked at him.

“What don’t you understand? You come home to me after missing an apology dinner, smelling like another woman. Lily Evans no less.” Venom laced itself through the words as you spoke them. His jaw clenched and he crossed his arms. Muscles tensed as he took in the anger in your eyes. You didn’t often get angry, not like this.

“Lily is my friend, I won’t let you make me feel like shit for spending time with her.” You threw your hands up in the air. The clock down the hallway ticked away, eating at you as you turned away from him.

“I never asked that of you, don’t you dare put words in my mouth.” Tears finally spilled over your cheeks. He scoffed.

“At least look at me.”

You whirled around, eyes glassy and lip trembling. Frustration rose. Here you were, crying over the loss of a relationship that hadn’t even ended yet. You swiped at the tear tracks.

“Why? I can’t do this anymore James. I love you, really, but it isn’t fair for me to have to keep asking you to occasionally put me first.” James wore an expressionless look as you spoke. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, an unsteadying drum to your own heartache.

“I do. I don’t understand where this is coming from.” A forlorn feeling took root in your stomach. He didn’t understand. Maybe you were fooling yourself, thinking you could work through this one. After everything, it was too much to bear.

“Alright.” He furrowed his dark brows.

“I’ll ask Mary if she can swing by tomorrow and help me pack up my things.” He startled, reaching for you once more. A sob caught in your throat as he gripped your shoulders. The soft florals of Lily’s perfume engulfed you.

“What? No, what are you talking about?”

Something undecipherable had leaked into James’ words, panicked and shaky as he searched your face. All he found was resignation. You were giving up. James shook his head, licking his lips and leaning down to stare directly into your teary eyes.

“You’re leaving me?”

You let out a breathy laugh, humorless and cold as it curled around your ears.

“You spend more time with Lily than me these days. I won’t fight for someone who isn’t doing the same.” You watched as his face fell. His lips parted as though to speak, but no words fell from his lips. You knew he couldn’t defend himself from the truth; at the very least, he couldn’t defend himself from this truth.

You spoke again. “I love you.”

You pried yourself from his tense grasp and made your way back to the bedroom, locking yourself in the bathroom for privacy. After tomorrow, you’d no longer be in a relationship. James would no longer be your boyfriend, and peace would have to be made. You shared too many friends for the opposite to be an option. You sighed, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes to keep the tears at bay.

When did it all go wrong?

#james potter x you #james fleamont potter #james potter drabble #james potter oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter angst #the marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era #marauders #harry potter x reader #harry potter

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carmyberzattosjournal · 20 days ago

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Entry 23: You Needed The Bear

GIF by: @hotch-girl

Bearblr Promptober Day 23: Dacryphilia

Summary: Carmy's has learned he likes seeing his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) cry when he makes her feel good enough. Smut.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, fem reader who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, finger sucking, oral sex (m receiving), Darling wants to choke on him, sir kink, Dom!Carmy, hair pulling (2203 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

23 Oct 2024

She tears up when she gets worked up enough.

It’s not even that hard to do. It’s funny how I didn’t even notice how easily I fucked her up; I was so wrapped up in my own head that the smallest amount of relief from that tangle of shorted cords meant that the world shifted abruptly. I liked finding the little things that were different. The things I didn’t notice before. Felt like I was in a new world.

Anyway, she’s not that hard to fuck up.

She’s not that hard to fuck up to tears.

And I’d say it’s a little unfortunate that I’m addicted to watching her get so wound up that she bursts into tears, but it’s a power trip knowing I’ve made her feel so good that the only way her body can respond is by making her cry.

She’s also a slightly different person now. Relaxed. Less careful. Fuck me, she was so fucking careful with me for so long, it must’ve been exhausting. I was determined to make her patience worthwhile in every way possible. And if that meant being the rock while she melted from having to hold it together at the hospital all day on her bad evenings, then I’d do everything in my power to be just that.

So, she sat in my lap, straddling my waist, hunting for kisses along my throat and jaw until finally planting a small one at the corner of my mouth.

“Carmy?” she whispered.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you make me feel good? Work was awful, I just… I just wanna feel good.”

We are supposed to talk about these kinds of things. It’s an unspoken rule between us, that we talk when either of us are neck-deep; she wears her stress more gracefully than I do, but it doesn’t mean she’s bulletproof. She is just as prone to burying shit under keeping herself busy—crochet, sewing with her friends, busying herself in deciphering me. Caring for me. If I am going to talk to her, then she is going to talk to me.

She drummed her fingers on my chest to get my attention. “Please? Please, sweetheart?”

I squeezed her thighs, also to get her attention. “You don’t wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head, whined her next sentence. “Later? Can we talk later?” She slid a hand up and tugged on my hair, a gesture more out of impatience than anything else. “Please?”

It takes a few seconds for the switch to flip. For me to go from the usual wreck of a person that I am to the one who destroys her in minutes, tops. Being mentally prepared for it ahead of time helps a lot, but I can manage a quick switch every once in a while, as the situation demands. So, I was my usual self when I finger-combed through her hair, swept it out of her face. But when I tensioned a fistful of it and traced her lips with my fingertip, I was the other one.

“Open,” I murmured.

She obeyed immediately. Her eyes fluttered closed and a moan escaped her throat when I pressed two fingers to her tongue.

“Suck.”

She enclosed her lips around my fingers and hollowed her cheeks, tracing her tongue over the digits. She held my wrist and forearm while she bobbed her head up and down their length, traced her thumb along the tendons, the scars, the tattoos that she memorized. She made a discontented noise when I adjusted for my back, holding my arm tighter so I couldn’t pull away. It was cute.

“I’m not taking ‘em away, cutie,” I reassured her. “Look at me, hm?”

She squeezed her eyes closed tighter.

I tightened my grip in her hair and repeated, firmer, “Look at me.”

She met my gaze for a few seconds, then looked away.

Oh? “You wanna keep feeling good, princess?”

She held tighter and sucked my fingers deeper into her mouth. That’d be a yes.

“Then you better listen. Look at me.”

She did, and within seconds, her face started flooding fuchsia. Her cheeks, the tip of her nose, the tips of her ears, her neck—all started going pink. Her movements lost their fluidity. Her thumb trembled as it traced the pulse in my wrist.

“Good girl. Keep looking at me. I wanna see your pretty eyes.” Her blush deepened further. Breathing quickened. “Want more?”

She whimpered a pathetic sort of sound in the back of her throat.

“That’s not an answer.”

She gave me a jerky nod. I added my ring finger, and her eyes threatened to flutter closed again.

“Keep looking at me, baby girl.” She did. And now her face and neck were red and hot to the touch. “Good girl.”

Her eyes went glassy, and tears pooled at her eyelashes. Her grip on my arm was bruising, trembling, causing these shooting pains up into my elbow, but fuck if I wasn’t enthralled by those gorgeous eyes, by her being so ruined by just looking at me that she’d begun to cry. I gently pressed down on her tongue, and her eyes snapped shut, sending black-tinted tears down her cheeks. She immediately blinked them back open, hooked her hand in my shirt neckline in a wordless effort to both apologize and beg me to continue.

“Aw, that’s okay sweetheart. It’s just too much for you, huh?”

She hesitated, but then gave me the tiniest nod.

“What do you say to something a bit bigger, hm?”

She grabbed my shirt now and pulled. Yes, Carmen, please.

I slowly removed my fingers from her mouth. “Go ahead. Good girl.”

She slid off my lap onto the floor and fumbled with my jeans. I had to help her get my dick free, but the instant I did, she took the head into her mouth, and I fucking swear to God, she almost fucking ruined me. Her mouth was so hot, so wet, she was so eager to flick her tongue over the slit and hum and dig her nails into my thighs.

“Fucking hell, baby girl… you really need me, huh?”

She nodded, pulled off just enough to whisper, “I wanna choke on you,” and then took me back into her mouth.

A searing wave of arousal washed over me.

Excuse the fuck outta me?

“You wanna what?”

She hummed. The fuck did that mean?

I gripped a fistful of her hair to get her to look up at me. “I asked you a question.”

Her cheeks flushed red again. Eyes went glassy. She was still just mouthing at the head, running her tongue maddeningly over and around it. She seemed reluctant to pull off or repeat what she’d said, but the heat in my core burned hotter. If she wasn’t about to clarify, I was going to make her choke on me anyway.

She let my dick fall from her mouth when I tightened my grip even further.

“I-I wanna ch-choke on your dick, sir,” she whimpered. “Please? Please fuck my throat? I’ll-I’ll tap three times if I need you to stop.” She did the motion on my thigh.

Something otherworldly possessed me then. I’m not a rough lover—at least, I wasn’t, not until I met Darling. It’s not that I didn’t want to be—I wanted, pretty much from the jump for what I can remember of being a hormonal teenager, to be rough with someone. I wanted to pull hair, bite, scratch, choke, I wanted to feel powerful and in control of something, be allowed to act on the barely contained insanity, that beast that festered just under the terrified, stuttering kid. Half of the reason I was called Bear was because of the last name—Berzatto. The other half?

The other half is why I ended up in wrestling to begin with. Just somewhere to put violent energy that was structured and safe enough not to land me a prison sentence. Or at least, that was my experience. I was very much two sides of the same coin, but the only time I saw that other side represented was in horrible circumstances—so I learned to associate the need to be rough with something bad, vile, despicable, wrong. Darling was safe. She showed me ways to remain safe while still being able to act on those deep-seated impulses tattooed on my bones. She didn’t quite flip a switch in me so much as give me access to a switch I could flip myself. She was safe. She is safe.

Darling took me back into her mouth, but this time all the way to the back of her throat. Her eyes watered, but she kept at it, going slowly, giving me time to think. She wanted to choke on my dick, huh? You wanna choke on me? Need to feel so powerless and used like a fucktoy, do you? Need that cute little brain to take a backseat to raw, unadulterated pleasure for a little while the only way I know how to give you? Okay. Okay, baby girl.

I wove both hands in her hair and started fucking deeper into her throat. Her eyes rolled back. Tears spilled down her cheeks when she squeezed them shut.

“Like that, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl.

Didn’t plan it. Came out of nowhere. But both of us clearly liked it based on how it imprinted on my gray matter and the unrestrained, half-muffled, half-strangled, high-pitched whine she let out. She squeezed a fistful of my jeans with one hand, held my wrist loosely with the other.

Pretty girl. This is just what you needed huh? Me fucking your throat relentlessly while your eyes roll back, and you forget everything else that exists on this planet.

You needed The Bear tonight.

She snuck her hands under my shirt, traced the lines of my abdomen. It was as if she couldn’t gather enough coherence to do anything meaningful, but she wanted to get her hands on me. I moved her further off, almost all the way off, to give her jaw a bit of a break, but she quickly gripped at my hips, dug her fingernails into me, and whined loud enough that the corner neighbor definitely would’ve heard.

“Shhh, easy pretty girl.” I pet her face, brought her back down on my dick.

She hummed. Went right back to hollowing her cheeks and made another whiny sound until I started fucking her throat again. Then she settled down, eyes closed, bliss on her face despite the streaks of gray.

I couldn’t resist chuckling. “Oh, is it that good, pretty girl?”

She nodded.

“Just need to be fucked like a toy, do you?” What was I saying? Did I really just say that? “Used up like the pretty thing you are, huh?”

“Mmhm.” She nodded more emphatically this time, planted a hand on my sternum, turned those gorgeous, glassy eyes up to me. The sight seared into my memory. Fuck me, pretty girl. A look like that oughtta be illegal. Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you forget all your worries, all the bad things that happened today.

I’ll fucking destroy you, and you will just come crawling back for more. You’re going to work with some fucking marks tomorrow; I’ll trade you a lipstick print, how about that, hm? How about Monique learn that you’re getting taken care of, and I’ll tell Richie to fuck off when he learns the same about me? Fuck this world, Darling, baby girl, pretty girl, I got shit to say to it about how it treated me, and I’ll start with showing it that you’re mine and I’m yours.

“Now be a good girl and choke on me.”

She obeyed, taking me further into her throat. Her throat spasmed around my dick—this fucking delirious tightness that pushed me abruptly over the edge of the orgasm I was teetering on. Heat exploded through my chest and up into my face, I couldn’t get air in fast enough, my head spun and swam and buzzed, my abdomen stung with the force of my core contracting. She gripped fistfuls of my jeans, then pushed against my hip, then pulled back just enough to let her swallow. Then the wave of cold set in. The merciful, blissful, benevolent wave of cold that started at my shoulders and washed down me like a Fall rain, taking with it all the tension I didn’t realize I’d been carrying up until then. My head dropped against the back of the couch. Hands went limp in her hair. Eyes refused to stay open.

Darling pulled off me slowly. Nuzzled my hand, kissed my palm.

“Come’ere,” I mumbled.

She climbed back into my lap and hunted for kisses again. I gave them willingly, now boneless, powerless to resist her in any capacity. The Bear’s been sated, princess, do what you want to me. I’m yours. I belong to you.

“What does my pretty girl want, hm?”

She kissed my neck just under the hinge of my jaw. Her voice was hoarse, more a crackly whisper than her normal speaking tone. “Eat me out? Three fingers?”

Anything, my love.

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut #I've been cookin y'all

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