#lorcan salvaterre x y/n

[throneofsapphics]

the arrangement 

Rowan/Lorcan/Fenrys x Reader

Summary: “You’ll take what I give you.” with Rowan, Lorcan, and Fenrys  

Warnings: degradation, hint of a size kink?, light d/s dynamics, foursome, small description of blood, Rowan’s biting kink of course, cockwarming, oral (m!receiving), brief m/m, slight objectification 

A/N: this is filth, that’s it. for this

Fenrys sat in an armchair across the room, his predatory gaze fixed on you. 

Rowan’s canine’s were grazing against your neck, tongue flicking over your pulse point. 

Lorcan’s hands covered your ribcage, his body firm behind you, his massive frame covering you enough your shadow didn’t reflect on the wall. 

“You’ll take what I give you,” his lips grazed your ear, “won’t you love?” 

“What we give you,” Fenrys corrected. 

“You’re not giving me anything right now,” you teased him. 

Lorcan roughly pinched your nipples between two fingers, whimpers falling from your lips, the mixture of pain and pleasure felt directly in your core, now starting to throb - nearly begging to be filled. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. Lorcan’s hand covered your mouth, forcing you to breathe through your nose, just as Rowan bit down on your shoulder, tongue running along the two small wounds, pinpoint of plain and pleasure. 

“You’ll be good and quiet, won’t you?” Rowan said as he withdrew, your blood staining his bottom lip, his tongue darting out to clean the drops, laughing at your muffled assent. 

“Get over here,” he called to Fenrys without looking at him. The other male snorted, but you saw him rise. 

Lorcan’s hand moved and you took in a deep breath, he still held you steady but Rowan had cleared the path - for Fenrys to head right to you. The newest addition to the arrangement you all enjoyed. You nearly stumbled as Lorcan finally released you, Fenrys’s arms steadying you, twisting you so your back faced him - so you faced the other two males. 

“Go on,” Rowan snapped - not at you. Fenrys’s edged laugh echoed in your ear as his fingers began undoing the laces of your dress with ease. Slowly, so damn slowly - to irritate the others, you figured, he lowered the fabric, revealing your bare skin inch by inch. 

“Beautiful,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. 

“She’s not a delicate flower,” Lorcan snorted. “She’s a little slut, isn’t she?” he asked Rowan, completely ignoring you. Your cheeks reddened but arousal grew at the way they spoke of you. 

“The perfect little toy,” Rowan agreed. 

“Are you a good little toy?” Fenrys whispered. A whimper left your parted lips, your head fell back, resting against his chest. He chuckled, dropping the rest of the fabric, one hand trailing down the valley of your breasts pressing against your stomach to draw you closer to him. His touch was light, gentle even, but just as electric as the others. 

He bent one knee, drawing your thigh over it - baring you to them. Showing you off like a good little toy. Two fingers parted your folds, revealing the arousal dripping from you, already coating your inner thighs. 

“I think I want a taste,” he murmured. 

“Take it,” the two words were filled with your desperation, “please,” you added as an afterthought. It wasn’t the taste you wanted, but hearing him clean your arousal from his fingers was almost as good. 

-

Fenrys had his back to the headboards, your core gripping his cock, hands holding you in place, not letting you move although you desperately wanted to. Instead, you were watching the show in front of you. Lorcan said you’d take what they’d give you tonight, and apparently that was pure torture, watching, waiting, teasing, but nothing to send you into the oblivion of pleasure you desperately craved.  

Lorcan was on his knees, Rowan’s hands gripping his hair, but you who had the other at their mercy. Just as you were finally enthralled, as you knew Rowan was about to launch past that edge, Fenrys lifted you off him. 

You whimpered at the emptiness, but he was already turning you around, pushing you back to rest on your knees between his thighs, eyes drawn to your arousal covering his cock. Your tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, eager to taste the two of you mixed together. 

“Go on,” you’d missed Rowan sneaking up behind you, but his hand already gripped your hair. “Tap twice if it’s too much,” he reminded you softly - the only softness you’d get tonight - before shoving you down, mouth opening to take Fenrys, to wrap your lips around him, sucking on his tip, tongue circling around him. 

Rowan snorted behind you. “You can do better than that.” 

A rough hand slapped your ass, Lorcan - Gods you needed to work on your awareness, launching you forward, taking Fenrys further, further, until he hit the back of your throat. 

Practice kept your gag reflex from activating, letting you take him as far as you could. Not very far with this angle. Rowan sensed it, what you wanted, arms looping under your shoulders, dragging you so your head hung off the side of the bed. 

“Take it or I will,” you heard Lorcan. 

[lilac-witch]

Hi!! 🌌✨🔥Male preference but women are also fine. (would love one of both, but understand that’s a large ask so just males are fine!) If you don’t have time for all 3, 🌌✨ would be my preference. Thanks!

* Cancer sun and rising, Scorpio moon

* Night owl but I also fall asleep way too quick

* Love to read and play video games

* Also love to ride horses

* Prefer the cooler/cold weather

* I fluctuate between INFJ and INTJ

* If you know Enneagrams I’m a 6w5

* Fairly quiet to strangers, but once I feel comfortable with you I’ll open up real quick lol

* Have been told I’m intimidating at first (thank you RBF)

* Have been described as a “black cat personality in a dog person” lmao

Thanks again, these are so fun!! :))

I’d pair you with Rhysand, Hunt and Lorcan.

Rhysand is a reader, Hunt is a gamer, and Lorcan would just be happy to be in your company. So in any circumstance where you are doing something you enjoy, there’s a male to keep you company.

Based on your preference for cooler weather, I definitely think the Night Court and Terrasen would suit your tastes.

INFJs and INTJs tend to not fit the mould societies builds for a person. And in my opinion, none of these males fit societal norms either. Each one of them would admire your personality, and will to break out from what’s considered normal.

Your RBF would definitely not scare any of these males off. In my opinion, it may even open them up to challenge, their intrigue getting the better of them.

[shallyne]

Well, anyways, I was bored and made a list with book characters that I like from A to Z (couldn't come up with something for Q)

Book Characters List

A

Aemmory Percyval Taxus

Aelin Galathynius

Andarna

Amara Maroni

Alpha Villanova

Abraxos

Annaleigh Thaumas

Aedion Ashryver

Alexis

Asterin Blackbeak

Aaron Warner

Apollion

Aidas

Ansel of Briarcliff

Ash

Addie LaRue

Avery Kylie Grambs

Ash Maddox

Alex Volkov

Ava Chen

Alessandra Davenport

B

Bryce Quinlan

Bryaxis

Bone Carver

Brie

Barney Fitz-Amobi

Bel Price

Bridget Van Ascheberg

C

Corvina Clemm

Cassius

Cardan Greenbriar

Chloe Green

Camila Dunne

Cinnamon Hotpepper

Cormac Donnall

Catherine Pinkerton

Cara Ward

Cal

Carter Price

Chrstian Harper

D

Danika Fendyr

Dante Maroni

Donatella Dragna

Declan Emmett

Dorian Havilliard

Dante Russo

Dominic Davenport

E

Elide Lochan

Evangeline Fox

Emilia DiCarlo

Envy

Evelyn Hugo

Ember Quinlan

Elspeth Spindle

Evangelina Sage

Elm Rowan

F

Feyre Archeron

Fenrys Moonbeam

Fallon

Felix

Fleetfoot

G

Gavriel

H

Hunt Athalar

Helion

Hannah Rooney

I

Imogen

Iris Winnow

Ione Hawthorne

Isabella Valencia

J

Jacks

Juliette Ferrars

Jude Duarte

Jesiba Roga

Jurian

Jest

Jack Brunswick

Jespyr Yew

Josh Chen

Jules Ambrose

K

Kenji Kishimoto

Kaltain Rompier

Kai Young

L

Lilith

Lyla

Lorcan Salvaterre

Lidia Cervos

Legend

Lysandra

Lehabah

Liam Mairi

Luc

Luna Caine

Libby

M

Manon Blackbeak

Morrigan

Morana Vitalio

Meghan Chase

N

Nesryn Faliq

Nazeera Ibrahim

Nash Hawthorne

Naomi Ward

Nightmare

O

Oraya

Oak Greenbriar

P

Pippa Fitz-Amobi

Purrcival

Q

R

Rhysand

Raihn

Ruhn Danaan

Rogan

Rowan Whitethorn

Randall Silago

Rhiannon Matthias

Razor

Ravi Singh

Ravyn Yew

Renelm Yew

Roman Kitt

Rachel Price

Rhys Larsen

S

Shara Wheeler

Scarlett Dragna

Stryga

Suriel

Sartaq

Syrinx

Sgaeyl

Sal Singh

Stanley Forbes

Stella Alonso

Sloane Kensington

T

Tristan Caine

Tristan Flynn

Thea Delion

Tairn

Thimble

Tandri

Trystan Maverine

U

Usha

V

Violet Sorrengail

Vale

Vincent

Vittoria di Carlo

Viv

Vivian Lau-Russo

W

Wrath

Wren

X

Xaden Riorson

Y

Yrene Towers

Z

Zephyr Villanova

[throneofsapphics]

(not very) patient

summary: Lorcan tries to test your patience.

warnings: impact play

a/n: this one is short and semi-sweet!

kinktober masterlist

“You’re doing so well, love,” Lorcan murmured and ran his hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing the soft skin. 

“You haven’t started,” you tried not to whine. 

“And you’re being so patient.” 

“I don’t feel patient,” you murmured into your pillow. He flicked the back of your head and you squirmed, ass shaking as you moved. You heard his breath stop, and hid your grin in the pillow. 

He cursed, grabbed another pillow and propped up your hips, like an offering custom made for him. You’d happily be that, if he just asked, but you didn’t mind him taking either. Pushing your hips up even more, you wiggled your ass as best you could, hoping repeating the movement might entice him. 

It worked, and a curved hand fell on your ass, a loud thwack left in its wake. You inhaled deeply, the delicious pain edging out into a dull ache. 

“How many do you think you can take?” He rubbed the spot, ensuring it would bruise. Lorcan loved seeing the bruises he left all over you, loved marking his territory - you called it. 

“As many as you’ll give me,” you responded. 

He slapped again, the same spot, this time with just his fingers, leaving a sting in its wake. Apparently not a good answer. 

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, it was the truth - you were a masochist through and through but if he wanted a number. 

“Twenty,” you finally settled on. 

“And you’ll count each one for me,” he instructed. 

You did, gladly.

kinktober taglist: @fourthwing4ever @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @erencvlt @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @hannzoaks @callsigns-haze @throneofsmut

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze @littlest-w01f

[throneofsapphics]

track 32

Fenrys x Reader x Lorcan

Summary: Cursed to fall in love, only to have everything ripped away from you, moving on to your next life already feels like a drag, only things don't quite follow their usual patterns.

Warnings: discussions of death, Maeve, brief description of torture, happy ending

Word Count: 8077

A/N: the HAPPIEST of birthdays to @whisperingmidnights <3 I hope you have an amazing day (& thank you to @rowaelinsdaughter for your help)

You tumbled into your new body. Again. At least this time the Gods let you skip through the childhood years, instead flooding your mind with memories of your new past. You could only be a toddler so many times before truly losing the last grip on your sanity. 

You’d think so much pain and suffering would flood together, the lives all melting into one giant messed up pot but instead each experience remained distinctly painful to you. Distinctly full of suffering and sour memories. You, obviously, hadn’t survived a single one and your trek across the multiverse was written in blood. 

It took you up until life 15 to really stop holding onto so many grudges, especially considering you seemed to be destined to fall for the same people each time. Not the same types of people, but the actual same person. 

Whoever put a curse on you had been clever. If you were cursed, perhaps you were just really damn unlucky. But right now you needed a bath, a hot meal, and a good night’s rest. Of course you were drunk. Fresh in from a night out on the town with one of your friends, but you had good some good fortune in this life - your own apartment. 

Tossing clothes off as you walked, you beelined towards where you knew the bathing room was. You were pretty certain you’d stayed in this exact apartment building before, and if you remembered correctly each apartment had near identical layouts, the entire building cheap and designed for efficiency. In this life, you’d made it your own more than in the previous ones. 

You stepped into the tub, let the cold water hit your toes, partially sobering you, rivulets of now psycho-somatic grime and blood streaming from your body to pool in clear water at your feet. 

A mind healer would have a field day with you and you knew it all too well. 

Plugging the drain, you adjusted it to reach the perfect temperature. Yes, an efficiency building but still had hot running water. It was odd, but you didn’t question it - you were a creature of comfort after all. 

You wondered when you’d see them again. You wished you could say that tall of your interactions started off on a fresh beat, that you had it together enough not to judge them based on versions of them in a different universe, but you weren’t. 

Having it together? Maybe, certainly not on that level though. Having it together enough to appreciate their presence at this moment? Hell no. 

After last time. 

“We’re done,” he mumbled, not willing to make eye contact with you. 

“Then say it to my face,” you glanced between both of them. 

Heads down. Eyes downcast - first time you’d seen them like that. 

“Then I really meant that little, didn’t I?”

“No,” one said - you could barely distinguish who through the raging steam in your ears and tears down your cheeks. 

“Yes,” the other said. You didn’t know or care who said what. It didn’t matter. Later, just before the death took you you’d find out who made them do it and realize it still didn’t matter. She may have forced them to lie, but they didn’t have to be quite so convincing. 31 lives had taught you logic had no place in heartbreak. 

The memory hit you like a physical blow to the chest, a stinging and pressure left in its wake. That heartbreak had killed you the quickest of them all. 

Three days. 

It was part of your curse, you’d figured out. To always know. What life you were on, the details of your past lives, how long it took you to do, what the death felt like, every little detail was committed to memory all because you’d dared to love someone a little too much, and ended up stealing them away from a wicked witch. 

Well, the story didn’t go quite like that but you thought it sounded better in your head that way. In reality, you’d fallen in love and done something stupid, as all people in love do from time to time. 

You and Lorcan had agreed you should try to get Fenrys out, that although it would be more difficult to get him released, Fenrys needed it more. You didn’t have the guts to tell him you needed both of them like you needed air, but there hadn’t been time for that. All of your moments were stolen and borrowed time. 

“Will you please release him from your service?” You were on your knees, begging. “Please, Majesty.” 

The harsh flooring dug into your knees but you kept the same subservient pose. For someone with so much pride, this was humiliating and your Queen knew it. 

“No.” 

One flat and toneless word. 

“No?” You repeated. 

Wicked red lips curved into a smile. “That is what I said.” 

You had several choice words for her after, and she’d responded with a fucking curse. Cursed to always love, but to never have it stick, cursed to die from heartbreak. 

Even after all of these lives the word ‘curse’ was still ugly in your mouth, still made your stomach heave and back seize at the memories. The times you’ve run into the Queen she hadn’t recognized you, but you knew she was still untouchable. Frequently made that way by the ones you loved. 

The breeze sneaking through the poorly insulated window highlighted how water already chilled around you. You didn’t miss that part of this building, the tub held next to no heat and your bathwater always ended up cold in less than fifteen minutes. 

You were tempted to stay still and prune, but there was no use in it. A new life, new things to do. 

Dragging yourself out of the tub, you dried off as efficiently as you could make yourself, scrounged up some comfortable clothes and headed to your desk. Grabbing a notepad and pen, you began writing. 

number thirty-one. 

It was a ritual of sorts, perhaps your imaginary mind healer would be proud of you for it, for getting all of your pain out on paper as soon as possible. 

Right before you burned it. 

Tossing the five sheets of paper on the flames felt good.

Running into them happened far too quickly for your liking. It always did. Life always started and finished too damn fast. 

You glanced in the mirror, at what you’d chosen to wear for the night out with your not-really-new friends. The dress fit you perfectly, and showed just enough to leave you feeling bold without being uncomfortable. The gold wrapped around your wrists helped too. Not too much to look rob worthy, but enough to make you feel like some extra type of sheen was thrown over you. Maybe, just maybe this life would bring you a little luck. Was gold supposed to be good luck? You didn’t know, but maybe you’d figure out how to look it up later. If you remembered to. 

You felt something warm in your chest, not unlike the flush from the first sip of whiskey. Closing your eyes you could’ve sworn it tugged, dragged you towards another. 

No, not in this or any life. It wasn’t possible. 

No matter how many times you fell in love and in how many ways, you’d never found a mate and were convinced you were destined not to. 31 lives was enough time to find a mate, a life partner. You should’ve had that done in by life 10. 

It was funny, how you’d started measuring your existence in lives rather than years. After all, it fit your circumstances. Permanently destined to be a temporary existence in others lives, and for their existence and influence to end yours. If there was a way out of this, a stopping or breaking of the curse you figured you would’ve found it by now. 

A loud pounding on the door and you hissed as the brush slipped, you barely moving your wrist away in time to save your face from a large black streak. 

“Gods,” you yelled, “hold on a damn moment.” 

“We’re going to miss the bard,” someone - Ella? Yes, Ella, shouted back. 

“Alright,” you groused loud enough for her to hear, “one moment.” 

One more swipe of kohl and you looked ready. A few deep breaths and you felt ready. 

Shoving the cosmetics to the back of the counter, you swung yourself around the doorway, grabbing your coat off the hook and flinging open the front door, finding your friend posed with their fist menacingly mid-air, probably about to break your door down. Memory clicked in, reminding you they can be a tad aggressive on a mission. 

Their mouth curved into a too-satisfied smirk, probably that their threats had work. Rolling your eyes, you shoved past them into the hall, quickly locking your door. 

“Anyone else for tonight?” 

“Just us,” they looped their arm through yours and started for the stairs. 

Ugh. Last time in this building you’d been on the ground floor, and you’d definitely miss the convenience of that, but at least you had a pretty balcony view here. It’s all give and take, you supposed. 

“Copper for your thoughts?” Ella’s voice interrupted you. 

How long had you zoned out? Was that a habit in this lifetime? You couldn’t remember. 

“Do I really look that broke?” You deflected. 

It worked, she laughed. Maybe it would’ve been nice if she pushed a little. 

-

Fenrys breathed in the fresh air. Maeve had sent him on a mission. Alone. Staking out Varese for several months, observing, but she didn’t exactly tell him what to look for. It was perhaps the most exciting and infuriating mission he’d been assigned. Infuriating, because he truly had no idea what in Hellas’s name he was supposed to do, exciting because he had months to spend doing whatever he thought ‘observing’ looked like. 

Yes, he knew it was a mockery of freedom but right now he’d take the gods-damned mockery over what he’s stuck in every day. 

Walking through the street, although he stuck to the shadows, unnoticed to the masses, it still felt like each face was sent there to tease him, remind him of the invisible leash tying him to that bitch for the rest of his life. He didn’t know how Lorcan, the bastard, did it with such glee and joy. At least Whitethorn had shown a measure of discontent at some point, he’d even seen a hint of it on perfectly loyal Gavriel’s face. 

Something caught his attention. Someone. 

Arm in arm with your friend, strolling down the street, exuding pure confidence. Someone aware of their place in this world and what they meant to it. The light in your eyes matched his own. Dimmed, flaring when necessary and just enough to keep up appearances. 

Only a fellow fraud would recognize it. 

He had to follow. It was insanity, but he needed to see more of you. 

That’s how he ended up nursing a drink in the corner of the bar, shadows wreathed around him, cloak pulled up to cover his face. He matched some of the many body guards of nobles around, and through some blessing not a soul had recognized him or even shot him a second glance. Perhaps Friday’s were quite a popular night for the elite to pretend, that or he’d gotten better at blending in. He didn’t know which to put his money on. 

Someone, however, caught all of the attention - including his, even when he tried to ignore the magnetic attraction tugging him towards you. Throwing your head back in a laugh, you danced along with your friend, clothing absolutely sinful and fitting right in. He loved it. Every part of your energy felt like it was tugging at him, urging him closer, closer, closer, and he realized just how dangerous that made you. 

Dangerous to him, and to yourself through him. 

No matter what, she hung over him like a storm cloud. 

Anything he might try to pursue with you would end before it could truly began, love or relationship cut off at its knees without a chance to truly blossom. Did he actually want it to? Could Fenrys actually be that selfish? 

Yes, if it came to you. He glanced down at his pint. Still half full, and rather weak shit. He wasn’t drunk but still managed to think complete nonsense. Nothing could happen, but for now he supposed it couldn’t hurt to imagine a fantasy life with a stranger he’d never see again live in the corner of his mind, so long as it it stayed there. He was so, so wrong. 

-

Lorcan Salvaterre knew about sacrifice. In fact, he was an expert at it, at this point. But, every bit was worth it for her. His Queen. The only female he’d truly loved to the point where he’d do anything and everything. 

Perhaps other love could have come his way, but it had never been the right time. Timing, in his opinion, shouldn’t matter. He’d always make the time for Maeve, and everything he’d done since meeting her had been for her. When she ordered him away, he left. When she kept him by her side - but never her bed - he stayed. Maeve said jump, he asked how high. 

That's why Lorcan was trying to figure out when in Hellas he’d become so disillusioned, starting thinking things so unlike him. He couldn’t tell her, couldn’t tell anyone. Lorcan didn’t have any friends or confidants, that wasn’t something he dealt in. To him, there was no purpose in friends when his entire life’s purpose was bound by blood to servitude. 

The closest thing he had to friends was his blood brothers, and like hell he’d ever tell them of this ... treachery waging war inside of his mind. 

Lunch swirled unpleasantly in his stomach as he thought of the word. Treason. 

When Maeve called him to the throne room, when he knelt before her, he mentally prepared himself for his immortal life to end rather early. She must know. She always knows. 

Instead, he needed to figure out how he’d pissed her off because she’d sent him off for some kind of torturous punishment. Keeping an eye on Fenrys, currently loose in Varese. 

“Anything I should watch out for in particular, majesty?” He was quite proud of how he kept the bitterness from his tone. Or thought he did. 

“You’ll know if you see something off,” she dismissed him with a wave. “Consider it a vacation, of sorts.” 

Blood sworn didn’t get vacations, he wanted to protest. He didn’t want - or need one. Had he really been slacking that much? The journey would provide adequate time for reflection, for him to dissect and figure out exactly where he’d gone wrong so he could prevent those mistakes in the future. That was essential. This trip however, like most things with Fenrys, would probably turn out to be a complete waste of his time. Time that could be spent doing much better things. But ... he supposed if this is what his Queen wanted him to do, it was exactly what he’d be doing, regardless of his feelings on the subject. His feeling always had been, and always would be inconsequential.

He was here. Already. Fuck. 

It was day 2, and you couldn’t catch a break. Is there such thing as a resting life? One where you could go through without any relationships, just peace and enjoying your moments of solitude? No, not for someone like you. 

Running away from them never worked, they would haunt your every movement until they consumed every last bit of you and scattered crumbs on the wind, only for the crumbs to reform and drag you back towards them. 

Do you embrace fate or run away from it? It was inevitable, what was the point in fighting anymore? You were so tired of it. Exhaustion rippled from you in waves, you were surprised everyone around you hadn’t noticed as soon as you walked in. 

Even if you wanted to, Fate, in the form of the most gorgeous man to exist, all bronze skin, onyx eyes, and golden hair, didn’t give you a choice. He slid into the bar stool next to you. 

You didn’t smile, at first, but your traitorous heart warmed in his presence. 

“Have we met before?” He said, jokingly. 

If only he knew. 

“Maybe in your dreams,” you slid your hand across the bar and grabbed your glass, drinking deeply. He winced. 

“Am I that bad of company?” 

“You’ve been here for,” you glanced at the clock pointedly, “a minute. It has nothing to do with you.” You’d tried every approach in the past to get them to see if it would deter them enough for them to circumvent fate, but nothing worked. Each version of you was destined for tragedy with each version of them. 

“That’s fair enough,” Fenrys replied. You reminded yourself you didn’t know his name. 

“What do they call you?” The words came out, regardless of your internal wince, knowing you were setting him up for a ridiculous line. 

“In b-”

You held a hand up and his mouth clamped shut. “No, no, none of that.” 

He laughed, deep and rich, a sound you ... had you heard that laugh from him before? Perhaps not, at least not in a few lives. Recently things had been so depressing. 

“I like you,” he nudged you gently with his elbow, your heart ached. 

not again not again not again. 

‘Yes,’ a cruel voice from red lips whispered in your mind, ‘again, again, again. Forever. This is what you deserve.’

Someone cleared their throat. Fenrys. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, glancing at the bottom of your nearly empty glass. Empty. Fuck. You couldn’t handle this sober. Were you sober? Your friends were long gone, all found partners for the night while you nursed your worries at the bar. “What’s your name?” You took the last sip of your drink as the last syllable left your lips, ideally it could hide any signs of a lie from him. 

“Fenrys,” he leaned back enough in his stool to extend his arm to you, rather formally. When you placed your hand in his, intending to squeeze it to death, he deftly rearranged your hands and raised your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. “At your service.” 

“Charmer,” you rolled your eyes but softly pulled your hand away and replied with your name. 

He said your name quietly, extending the vowels, as if testing how it sounded on his tongue, how it might sound in other - 

You chided yourself, pulling your mind out of the gutter. With the situation you knew he was always in, that was the last thing you needed to be thinking about. Or that he needed to be. You might not escape him, but you certainly wouldn’t do anything to make this harder on yourself. At least thats what you’re saying now. 

“Last call,” the gruff barman said, scowling at Fenrys before shooting you a smile. Your mind rattled through details. Right, you regularly shut this tavern down and always left a good tip. 

You leaned over to Fenrys and whispered low so the other male couldn’t hear, “he’s easy to win over. A good tip, manners, and easy orders.” 

Fenrys hid his snort in his drink, draining the last droplets. “Thank you for the advice, love,” he whispered conspiratorially. Asshole. 

“Whatever,” you mumbled and left your usual amount, sliding off the stool. Just because you were fated to make each other’s lives hell didn’t mean you had to deal with him being rude. Maybe you were just sensitive. 

A ‘wait’ followed you but you ignored it. Inevitable.

He caught up to you on the street, calling your name again. 

Something else struck you. He was alone in Varese. When did this happen? This was odd. Out of all of your lifetimes nothing had followed this pattern, never meeting so quickly and certainly not with Fenrys on his own with his leash rather loose for what the bitch prefers. You needed to figure out more. 

“Want to come back to my place for a drink?” You said, slowly turning to look at him. 

If he was surprised by your quick change of tune, he didn’t say a thing, only nodding and linking your arms together. Like he’d been waiting for a friend. The pain in your chest was physical as much as it was emotional. 

-

Lorcan was here to keep an eye on Fenrys, and if that meant sitting in the shadows on a rooftop, peering through a beautiful female’s stupidly open window then so be it. You walked around and even acted like you didn’t give a damn whether you lived or died, but he could tell you were smart, based on how you’d handled Fenrys. 

He’d ended enough lives to have an appreciation for it, and the way you were so gods-damned careless with yours pissed him off. 

Lorcan should be questioning why his feelings towards you are so strong, but instead he’s observing every little detail of the interactions between you and Fenrys. For his report, of course. He always paid attention to detail, there was no other reason than being thorough. At least he kept telling himself that. 

It wasn’t because he liked the way your hair moved, or how you rolled your eyes frequently at his blood-sworn brother, followed by a barely there smile that he only noticed because the shadows danced around it, as if you repelled the darkness. 

Maybe you could repel the darkness in him. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Lorcan hadn’t drank, and even if he had he never entertained thoughts like this. 

Refocusing, he committed to memory every detail of what Fenrys was doing, how he reacted to you, how attached he might be and how you might already be used against him by his Queen. 

An unfamiliar feeling settled in his stomach, tainting him. 

Guilt. 

He didn’t want to use you. 

But if it came to it, he wouldn't have a choice. He never really did. 

-

Fenrys whistled lowly on his way home, through the empty streets. Still aware of his surroundings, also aware that none would dare approach him - not with the steel and the stature he carried himself with, proof he knew how to use it. 

All he’d done is sit and talk with you for hours, in fact the dawn was currently beginning to crest over the city. Hours of sitting and talking felt like mere minutes with you, and he found he had more fun in that time than he had in years, perhaps decades, perhaps since entering Maeve’s service. 

It was sad, really, that you could only be a temporary fixture, for your own safety. 

Still, his mind rattled with ways to do the impossible, with how he could be with you forever without ... it was useless, really, to even ponder it. The false hope and ideas would only taint the present he had, for however long Maeve let him stay here in his ... his fantasy, he supposed. 

He could imagine many fantasies with you involved but the biggest was your friendship. The way you hadn’t hit on him, made any kind of sexual innuendos or advances, thats why he followed you out of the bar. Because you made him comfortable in a way nobody else had in so, so long. Like you’d been doing it for lifetimes. 

The scent hit him. The male wanted him to know he was there. His entire body stiffened, posture straightened slightly, pleasant after buzz from your intoxicating presence gone just like that. 

Lorcan Salvaterre. His commander. 

“Who was that?” Lorcan wasted no time and matched pace with him. 

“None of your business,” Fenrys snapped. Aware that he could be punished for it, but he didn’t care, he looked the male right in the eyes. 

Lorcan ... Lorcan didn’t push him. At all. Instead, something like understanding passed through his eyes. Had Lorcan needed to protect someone from Maeve before? 

Probably not. He was a cold hearted bastard through and through. 

“Keep her away,” the words were whispered on the wind - there and gone. Just like Lorcan, who melted into the shadows. 

Away from who? Lorcan didn’t say ‘keep away from her,’ and Fenrys knew everything the bastard did was intentional. 

Lorcan Salvaterre was here. You knew it, having caught the faintest hint of his unfortunately familiar scent, trailing after you like a hound. 

The fact that he was following you made you nervous. Yes, similar situations had occured before but everything about this time seemed so different that it filled you with mixed emotions. 

What are the odds there’s actually something good in store for you? Slim, you decided, based on history and reasoning, and you knew Lorcan Salvaterre stalking anyone was bad news, but especially for you when you had ... history with the Queen he so lovingly served.

Someone whose head deserved to be ripped right from her neck, you cast the thought into the universe and hoped it landed, hoped she felt a phantom prick in the side of her neck. 

Maybe she regretted cursing you to some kind of eternal half existence, always in and out of different worlds. Doubtful. More likely she tired of whatever game she decided to play for you and set the person who she knew would hurt the most to kill you. Even you could admit you were extrapolating. 

Maybe an attitude change could fix everything. A tad less drama. 

You glanced out the window, at the rain currently pouring down, at the moisture leaking into your apartment. The weather certainly didn’t match up for life changes, if anything it read of staying right where you were. 

Accepting it wouldn’t happen today, you saved the attitude change for the next sunny day. Those practically screamed change in fortune. Or you hoped they did. 

A week passed. You saw Fenrys each night at the Tavern, and scented a weirdly careless Lorcan on your trail each day. 

Your attitude may not have changed with the next bout of sunshine, but you had a plan. It was rather simple, to somehow draw Lorcan out. However, there was a difference between having a plan and knowing how to execute it. You supposed that made your plan an idea more than anything. 

Fenrys had mentioned business meetings he’d be attending one night, and you decided that was the perfect to do it. The perfect night to pretend to get sloshed, and you had the help of your favorite barkeep. 

Knowing Lorcan, he probably had questions for you, and wouldn’t miss the opportunity to get some answers while your inhibitions were ‘lowered.’ Arrogant males like him wouldn’t let opportunities slide by, but Lorcan Salvaterre stayed Maeve’s commander for a reason, and you knew your acting skills had to be top notch to keep him from becoming suspicious. 

-

“When will you stop pretending to drink those?” Lorcan asked gruffly as he slid into the stool next to you, his hulking frame towering over the bar and casting a shadow over you. You were a good actress, but he was better, and caught on after the first couple of drinks and exchanged looks between you and the barkeep, who you were on very friendly terms with. 

The obsession with you, the flares of irrational anger when another man trailed too close, Lorcan knew what this was, and knew he was screwing both of you over with it. Fated for misery and doom, no matter how the cards played out. He’d be stuck with her, Lorcan noted how she was demoted in his mind, and you’d be ... free. 

All those years he’d spent making fun of those males now served to make him feel like a lot of an asshole because he gotit. There was a crack in his armor, a weakness in his resolve, and nobody knew about it. He intended to keep it that way until you were far, far away from him and his ... his Queen, and then as long as possible after that. His stomach clenched at the thought of what she might do to you in order to help keep him in line. Nothing good, and everything bad. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you answered primly, turning away from him. Why had he come over here again? 

He laughed, low and harshly. “Sure you don’t, sweetheart,” he exaggerated the last word - turning it into an insult. It didn’t feel right. His entire being flared against any insult to you, even coming from him. 

But ... the little flash of anger in your eyes, the way your nostrils flared, that was amusing. He liked the fire in you. “What did you call me?” 

He shrugged. 

You scoffed, muttering an insult he chose to ignore under your breath. “Nothing to say to that one?” You pushed when he didn’t answer, letting your elbow brush against his, “I thought it was creative. If you need me to I can keep going, there’s plenty where it came from.” 

“It was well done,” perhaps he wasn’t particularly in the mood to be insulted all night, and he got the sense you were more than capable of doing just that. 

“Well done,” you echoed, and he nodded. Your mouth curled into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. 

-

In the future, you might just deny it ever happened, but Lorcan Salvaterre ended up in your apartment that night. You ignored the fact that he seemed to know the way there. There had always been plenty you were willing to ignore when it came to that male, and that hadn’t changed over the last however many lives. 

Once Lorcan - once he’d found his Queen, you’d been second. But before that, he’d made you his everything. You never could blame him for leading you to beg Maeve that first time, that cursed time. 

Still, on the nights when you were alone, when the rain or a pretty mountain outline reminded you of him, when everything felt too much, it was easier to pin it on him, even if it made you a horrible person. Horrible, even for an ex-lover, but then again you were always an expert at self-depreciation. 

Looking at the male now, like a statue of a God carved from granite, you knew he’d be the death of you. Again. But how could you fight him? You never had the strength to in the past. Maybe you weren’t trying to survive hard enough ... 

Things had never moved this quickly in the past, they’d always been at a pace just slow enough to be torturous with your knowledge of your impending doom. 

Maybe this time you needed to really try. 

For Lorcan. For Fenrys. But mostly, for yourself. 

The door closed behind you and you slipped back into reality, into the new situation you found yourself in. 

“Drink?” You asked over your shoulder, heading right for your kitchen. 

He caught your hand, spinning you back towards him. 

“I had something else in mind,” he said roughly, and dipped his head towards yours. 

You knew he could be patient, he could be gentle, he could be kind, but you got none of that now. 

His hand gripped your jaw, tight enough to keep you still but not harsh enough to hurt, his mouth moved fervently against yours as you matched his pace. It was the collision of a thousand stars, a world breaking and re-forming into something new and beautiful and wonderful. It was everything and more. It was the multiverse coming together into a single moment and screaming yes! this is what you were waiting for. He slowed, softened, as if some kind of guilt caught up with him. You wouldn’t have that. Couldn’t. You gripped the back of his hair and pulled him back closer to you, pressing your body against his. 

He would be yours for the night, but little did he know you‘d already been his for eternity. 

-

You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing, Fenrys reminded himself as he walked out of the bar, spotting you teasing Lorcan. He’d finished his business meetings early and thought he might see if you were still haunting your favorite spot at the bar. 

Still, he wanted to rush up to you and ask you if you knew who the hell you were tangling with but ... he supposed he was like Lorcan in that way, one of Maeve’s Blood Sworn, and to have two of them shown publicly taking an interest in you was nothing short of deadly and he refused to subject you to that. So Fenrys left. 

And hated himself for it, but self hatred was nothing new to him. 

Fenrys wasn’t sure how he found Lorcan’s rooms, considering the male probably didn’t want to be found right now. Probably wanted to bask in you. Your beauty, the time he sp-

He stopped himself from thinking of it. Even thought of shifting now, to a body where emotions were simpler and didn’t drain quite so much. Fenrys rarely shifted voluntarily when away from her, not after she kept him in that form so frequently. ‘Where he was easier to deal with,’ she’d said once, and the words still stung as His Majesty, he thought the words mockingly, intended for them to. 

The door swung open. 

Lorcan didn’t speak, just stood there with his arms crossed and jaw clenched. 

Fenrys felt young, and not in a good way. What was he? A jealous lover? Concerned friend? Idiot? 

Then it hit him. 

The scent. 

Yours. 

His. 

Entwined. 

Without him. 

Rage, pure and strong filled him. The scent was particular, and he’d seen it just a few times before. Lorcan, intelligently, had a shield around himself before Fenrys he was on the verge of some kind of burst. 

“Not fucking possible,” Fenrys backed away, “we can’t have the same mate.” 

Lorcan’s eyes widened, but he was looking beyond him. Fenrys whirled around. 

You. 

“I can’t have a mate,” you said quietly, desperately. “I never have before,” then to yourself, “it’s never been like this,” you switched your gaze to the window, he watched you try to angle your face so they couldn’t see the tears in your eyes but they were evident. Everything was evident when it came to you. 

“Get inside,” Lorcan said roughly to both of you. 

He had a point, it wasn't exactly the space for this conversation. A hallway where anyone could be walking by and overhear. That’s the last thing he wanted, anything that might put you in further danger. 

When he didn’t instantly move, Lorcan grabbed his shirt, tugging him inside. There was a knife at Lorcan’s throat before the male could blink. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me,” Fenrys hissed, slowly sliding the knife away and sheathing it at his side. 

He was surprised his commander hadn’t caught it, but then again he was staring at a pretty female in the hallway, your gaze still distant and fixed on the window. He called your name, just loud enough to carry across the distance. Your head snapped, you blinked a few times. He tilted his head towards the room. 

An over-exaggerated sigh, probably for their sake more than anything, and then you followed them inside. Each step seemed to make you shrink further into yourself, he noticed, that confidence and bravado fading and leaving someone vulnerable behind. 

It took a strong hand to tamp down on instincts rising, telling him to eliminate any immediate threats to you. The main one being Lorcan, but also any other males and possibly females in the vicinity. It was absolutely ridiculous, the way he was feeling even if he wasn’t acting on it. At least he hadn’t acted on it. Yet. If only because he was well aware it would piss you off. 

-

“What did you mean, ‘it’s never been like this?’” Lorcan asked and you read the skepticism in his eyes. Not quite distrust, but an interesting mix of confusion and concern. That had the potential to change quickly. Could you even speak about it or would you drop dead? You’d always assumed you couldn’t but ... 

“I’m cursed,” you started. They exchanged a brief glance, and for some reason that irritated you, but you kept going. “We’ve met before. Many times,” you knew that would grab and probably keep their attention, at least for a little while. You held a hand up when their brows furrowed in concern, “just hear me out before you write me off as crazy.” 

“I would never write you off,” Fenrys murmured, and you shot him a thankful look but he kept his mouth shut after that. Perhaps it had something to do with the glare on Lorcan’s face. 

The words were difficult. 

Each one felt stilted and awkward, but they watched and listened as if each word you said was pure gold and something about that made you feel powerful. They went through the emotions with you, although it was a tad more difficult to tell with Lorcan, but you struggled together in a way. For some reason, it started to feel like this might turn into a goodbye and you weren’t quite ready for that. After all, you didn’t know how anyone could stay with someone ... someone with the kind of tainted past you have. 

“Why would she do that?” You finished. It a was rare chance to ask two people who probably have more insight than any others into how the mind of the Queen works, not that you believe she’d let anyone truly understand her. 

“Cruelty,” Fenrys said. 

The same time as Lorcan said, “jealousy.” 

“Makes sense,” you huffed, eyes rolling towards the ceiling. It was stupid. 

“How do you end up reincarnated?” Lorcan asked. The question you were hoping to avoid. 

“I die.” 

“Of old age,” Fenrys said, but didn’t sound as if he believed it. 

“No,” you said sharply, exhaling. “You’ll laugh at me.” 

“Try me. Believe it or not, I don’t find your death very funny,” Fenrys said dryly. Lorcan was watching with apt attention, eyes watching you like a hawk. 

“Heartbreak,” you grunted, quickly whirling towards - fuck. You’d meant to look out the window, but saw the mirror instead and the twin faces of horror behind you struck something deep inside of your heart. 

“I -” your throat closed up, the words not quite getting out. 

“What is it?” Fenrys curled his fingers inward, and despite a slight internal cringe you let him beckon you, let him take your hands, let him give you this kind of comfort. 

“I wish you remembered,” you whispered, glancing at Lorcan too, who’s eyes and face told you, yes he knew you were changing the subject, and no the conversation was not over yet. 

-

“I don’t -,” Lorcan Salvaterre stumbled over his words, perhaps for the first time in his life, “I don’t mind making new memories, as long as they’re with you.” 

You beamed. Fenrys laughed. He debated how upset you would be if he killed the other male. 

Other male. 

He knew, already, that he’d have to share you. 

For you, Lorcan could and would make anything work. You were worth everything, absolutely everything. 

Maeve, a voice whispered in his mind. He pushed it down, ignored it for now. That was an ... his Queen would never be an issue, but a situation he could deal with at a later date. 

He swore to himself he’d never make fun of a mated male again. Technically he wasn’t mated yet, but he would be ... soon, he had to be. Being your mate felt like an irrevocably necessary part of his soul, like he might die without it, without having that bond with you to tether him to this world and give him meaning. Meaning he’d been lacking his entire life. 

He didn’t know or care if Fenrys felt the same way but he supposed he should. He had an obligation to his mate’s mate, after all, outside of the fact that Fenrys is his bloodsworn brother. 

Bloodsworn.

His bones and blood chilled. He couldn’t be yours, not really. The realization threatened to bring tears to his eyes, but he couldn’t cry, not here - not in front of you. You needed him strong. 

He stood, abruptly, but didn’t care. He jerked his chin to Fenrys. “We need to talk,” he let his eyes say the rest. 

He found he didn’t like how some of the shine left Fenrys’s, how they dulled at the implication of their Queen’s existence. Too bad, for now. 

“Great. Secrets,” you muttered, and a slight smile threatened his lips, but you still waved them away. Perhaps you understood secrets better than anyone else. 

Lorcan led Fenrys to an adjacent room, and their shields went up at the same time. To keep any nosy females from overhearing. The more she knew, the more danger she was in. At least they were on the same page. 

“Where is safe for her?” Fenrys started. 

At least he had his priorities straight. 

“Antica,” Lorcan answered. Maeve didn’t dare touch the southern continent, yet. ���For now,” he added for honesty’s sake. “The curse won’t break until Maeve is ...” He didn’t, couldn’t bring himself to, speak the words out loud, it felt too much like treason. 

“Dead,” Fenrys said for him. He had no problem with it, apparently. If Lorcan had been as insolent as the male in front of him, he would’ve been put to death long ago, and he knew that. Perhaps Fenrys didn’t, but it wasn’t the time for that conversation. “So we spirit her away, and then what? How do we keep her from dying?” 

“A blood promise.” 

“Like what?” Fenrys leaned back against the wall, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

“When the curse is broken, we will find her.” 

Antica. Hot, miserable, mate-less Antica. In truth, it wasn’t that miserable, but you'd be enjoying yourself a lot more if your mates hadn’t shipped you off here as quickly as they could. 

All in the name of keeping you ‘safe,’ you grimaced in the mirror, brushing down your hair, now frizzy slightly from the rare rain that breezed in the day before. They're and gone like a phantom, almost. Almost like their presences in your life. 

You could still remember their touches from that last night, firm but gentle, still tentative like new lovers can be. You thought you knew everything about their touch from the past, but even they kept some surprises across multi-verses, or maybe it had just been a while since it had been the three of you and your memory was getting poorer. 

Probably that. 

You pushed the door open, throwing yourself into the throng of people making their way to the one of the several monthly markets in the city. Throng of people, you thought. It was awfully busy. 

‘War,’

‘Sending us-’

‘Saved the princess,’

‘Foreign lord.’ 

The whispers hit your ears one by one like a drum. A war. Against who?

You stopped casually at the closest table, and sure enough the seller was chittering to the person who came before you about it. A war, and the khaganate would be marching for Aelin Galathynius. 

You rolled the name over on your tongue, it being vaguely familiar. Perhaps you should have kept up more with politics throughout the ages, you probably could’ve made a load of money betting, but that felt a tad too immoral, and you did fear the judgement of your own conscience. 

As soon as the intrigue was there, it was gone. You’d heard of several wars over the last two decades, the longest you'd lived so far, and none of them had brought your mates back to you. You seriously doubted this would be the one. 

You refused to acknowledge the ugly truth. They’d probably already forgotten about you. 

-

In the lonely and mindless hours stuck in his Wolf form, Fenrys thought of the beautiful female in Antica, and dreamed of a life without Maeve, however impossible it was he never stopped hoping.

The female screamed on the table in front of him, but he was frozen in time and space. All he could do right now was bear witness to the horrible crime in front of him. Aelin Galathynius deserved someone to bear witness to her pain and her strength. 

The female who should’ve been his Queen, and the female who was his mate had so much in common. Not necessarily appearance, but your attitude and the way you carried themselves. So much that being with her for those months had felt like an even larger blessing. It wasn’t infidelity, not by any means, but perhaps a bit wrong he was using Aelin as a proxy for you. 

The screams in front of him distracted him from his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. She’d passed out, he was waking her with some foul smelling cloth. Each day, he thought he’d reached the limits of what he could bear without closing his eyes, but somehow - because he knew you would do it - he managed to watch. Witness. Wait. It was all he could do now. 

- 

Lorcan Salvaterre knew he was a miserable male to be around, but traveling through Varese had turned him downright sour. At least internally. 

He knew he needed to get to Aelin, and he knew he needed to get to Fenrys. For the bond they shared with each other that they’d never told a soul about. If he didn’t get to him, you’d never ever forgive him. 

He might be too much off a coward to tell you, but he would know in his soul and that’s enough. He’d find Fenrys, get her away from him, do whatever it took. 

-

You woke up one morning with an unusual lightness, a ‘pep’ in your step, so to speak. You’d never understood that phrase until then, when you felt like all of your burdens and issues had been freed in a spare moment, like nothing could weigh you down right then. 

As usual, you got your gossip through the market, and it all made sense. 

Doranelle has a new Queen. 

Queen Maeve was killed in Terrasen. 

You were free. 

You tilted your head up towards the sky, and let the sun shine down on your face, not caring you were stopped in the middle of the park. From the corner of your eye you spotted an older woman copying your movements, not in a mocking way, but in a yes the sun is quite nice today way.

The flip side of your freedom meant your mates would be coming soon. They’d be coming soon. 

To Antica. 

To you. 

You scrambled back to your apartment to start packing. How long did it take to get from Terrasen here?

You paused halfway through throwing your closet onto your bed. 

A letter would’ve arrived by now, but you’d received no such thing. 

That night you fell asleep on top of your clothes. 

The next day you built the courage to put them away. 

You didn’t know where in the world they were now that Maeve is gone, and perhaps with the curse lifting they felt they no longer were obligated to be with you and love you, and maybe -

A familiar scent hit the same time as a knock on your door. 

You rushed to it, throwing it open finding ...

Both of them. Your mouth parted, words not quite leaving your lips. Finally, you managed a lame, “you came.” 

“We promised,” Lorcan said “Can we come in?” 

Yes, they obviously could, you swung the door wider and ushered them inside. 

“We came as soon as we could,” Fenrys promised. 

The silence was awkward for a few moments as the three of you tried to figure out how to navigate this. But, it was easy enough to break as you threw yourself at both of them, managing to catch each of them in a hug at the same time. 

“I forgot to tell you before I left,” you started, muffled in the shirts but knew they heard you. You’d memorized these words long ago. “I spent so long looking for all of the things that would kill me, I forgot the ones that made me feel alive. Both of you made me feel alive. Thank you.” 

[throneofsapphics]

a deal between friends 

Lorcan x f!Reader

Summary: Day 14, Corruption with Lorcan 

Word Count: ~3.2k

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), light corruption kink, friends with benefits, light d/s dynamics, minors dni!

kinktober masterlist

Lorcan had known you for years and he knew almost everything there was to know about you. As a friend, of course, he told himself. But, one afternoon, when the words spilled out about your inexperience and how behind you felt, he was absolutely done for. 

“Do you want,” he paused, trying to get the words right without messing this up - he had one shot at it. “Someone to help with that?” 

“Are you volunteering, Lorcan?” You teased, but he saw how your cheeks flushed. He loved hearing his name on your tongue. 

“I am.” He raised one brow, fighting down any signs of his nerves. Your lips parted slightly, your pupils dilating, and he knew he had you. 

“Oh. Oh.” He let his lip curve up into a smirk, leaning back in his chair, and tilting his head - waiting for you to form an actual response. “That … that would work,” you said hesitantly, and he watched how your pulse fluttered. If he told you right now all of the things he wanted to do to you, all of the plans forming in his mind, he’d scare you off for certain. But, he’d get the honor of teaching you everything about pleasure and enjoy each second

“That’s not very enthusiastic.” He countered, to test how you would reply. 

“If you don’t want the job,” you said the words with a smirk, “I can go find someone else.” 

“No.” His voice came out rougher than he meant it to. “It’s mine.” 

-

Mine. Gods, the pure possession in Lorcan’s words gave you goosebumps. His, the word popped into your mind and you quickly shoved it back down. This was transactional, a friend helping a friend - that’s it. And it would do you good to remember it. Still, looking at him - the dark eyes, the sharp lines of his face, the way his hands were gripping the table and you imagined how they’d feel on your thighs, around your throat. You were already blushing but the arousal you knew was coming from your scent made the blush spread down your chest, likely all the way to your navel. You already wanted to wipe the satisfied look off his face, instead you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Alright. It’s yours.” 

“That’s better,” he tapped his fingers against the table, his eyes fixed firmly on you. “I’ll come by tonight.” 

He stood, rounding the table before stopping next to you. His gaze traced down from your lips to the curve of your breast, before shooting back up to meet your eyes. You froze as he traced one finger across your collarbone and your breath caught. His lips twitched at the corners and he left without another word. When he was out of sight, you slumped back in your chair, holding your head in your hands. What the hell had you just done? Having Lorcan ‘help you out,’ in his words? And meeting him tonight? You knew you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else for the rest of the day. 

-

You paced anxiously, waiting for Lorcan to show up. He hadn’t given you a time, which was slightly infuriating, but that anger was overshadowed by the giant pit of nerves in your stomach. What time was tonight? If he planned on showing up at midnight, you’d definitely lock him out. Less than an hour after sunset, a knock sounded at your door and you forced yourself to take a deep breath before answering. Lorcan stood there, leaning against the wall. He pushed himself off as you swung the door open, stepping aside to let him in. 

“Want something to drink?” You asked, turning quickly to head to the kitchen. You could use something to calm your nerves, that’s for certain. You didn’t drink anything before he came over, but in hindsight that might have been a good idea. 

“Sure,” he said, his normally stoic voice laced with amusement, and settled on the couch. 

You glanced over your shoulder, his long legs were stretched out in front of him, one arm braced over the back of the couch. He looked so … calm and relaxed, as if this was a perfectly normal thing for him. Maybe it was. A strange hit of jealousy rose in your chest, and you shoved that back down - deep, deep down. A friend helping a friend, that’s it, no reason for you to feel that way. 

You let out a slow exhale, quickly pouring each of you two fingers of whiskey into one glass. On the second one, your hand was so shaky it jolted, and you cursed as some of the liquid spilled out onto the counter. 

“For fucks sake,” you grabbed a towel, starting to soak up some of it, “what a waste.” 

“Nervous?” Lorcan called from across the room. 

“No.” you countered, maybe a bit too quickly. You picked up the bottle again, and felt a presence behind you, one of his hands covered your own, his body hovering just an inch behind you, the other one bracketing the counter. Your heart sped up as he tilted the bottle for you, stopping at just the perfect amount. 

“It’s alright if you are,” he murmured as you shoved the bottle to the back of the counter. 

His hand swept the hair away from your shoulder, gathering it on one side. He gripped your chin between two of his fingers, twisting your head so you’d look at him. 

“Just a friend helping a friend,” your words were barely audible. 

Something in his eyes darkened, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Right.” He released you, taking a step back so you could turn around, but didn’t move any further, only reaching behind you to snatch the small glass, pressing it to your lips. “Drink.” 

His words were a pure command, and something in your belly coiled as your lips parted. The liquor was a familiar and welcome burn, easily sliding down your throat. His eyes were fixed on your lips as your tongue darted out to catch the few drops left behind. “Good girl.” 

The coil already building inside you tightened, and you braced one arm on the counter behind you. The corner of his mouth indented, a grin from him if you’ve ever seen one, and he snatched the other glass up, jerking his head towards the couch. 

You followed him on slightly unsteady feet, aiming right for your favorite armchair. Maybe some physical distance between the two of you would be good right now, because you’re not certain if you could trust yourself. You were just about to lower yourself into the chair when he spoke again, “Sit next to me.” 

His tone left no room for argument, and you found yourself obeying instantly - and cursing yourself for it. You’d never let anyone boss you around before but … this didn’t feel quite like that. You left a good, safe, foot or so between the two of you. He huffed, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and you squeaked as he tugged you right into his side. 

“Gods Lorcan.” 

“If I’m going to be helping you, you might as well get close now.” 

-

Lorcan ran his hand down the smooth skin of your arm. He knows you didn’t exactly need to be tucked into his side, but he wanted to feel your skin - the heat of your body against him. Watching you lick the small droplets off of your mouth, your soft pink tongue peeking out … he almost threw you up on the counter right there. “What have you done?” 

“Not wasting any time, are you?” You teased him and your voice grew quieter, “nothing.” 

“You’ve never even kissed anyone?” He asked incredulously 

“Don’t laugh at me.” You mumbled, pressing into his side. 

“I promise I’m not laughing.” His throat bobbed, “have you ever touched yourself?” 

“A bit.” You admitted, an adorable pink blush coating your cheeks. He grabbed your waist, pulling you so you straddled his legs, running his hands up and down your thighs. 

“What does ‘a bit’ mean?” 

“It means a bit.” You snipped at him, and he raised a brow. 

“Elaborate.” 

“You’re bossy,” you deflected, tracing one hand over his cheekbone. “I’ve touched down there a few times in the bath mostly.” 

An image of you, alone in your bath, your thighs spread and eyes closed - fingers exploring your clit and folds, your hips keening slightly in the water. He felt himself harden, starting to strain against his pants, but thankfully you were distracted running your fingers over his cheeks, down the column of his neck. 

“Have you ever had an orgasm?” 

You hesitated, your hand stopping. “I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t think so?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?” You snapped at him, rising on your knees to move off. He gripped your waist with your hands, firmly tugging you back down. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just surprised.” You didn’t reply, only tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, and his eyes narrowed in on the action. Fuck, he was tired of waiting, tired of words at this point, and wound his hand in your hair, tugging you closer, his other hand braced on the small of his back. “Can I kiss you?” 

He watched your teeth dig in further, and you gave a small nod. “Words, y/n,” his voice was strained - the narrow grip he had on his restraint splintering, “I need words.” 

“Yes,” you breathed, and he closed the distance between the two of you. Your lips were soft and pliable under his, moving awkwardly at first, but he ran one hand down your back, over the curve of your ass, squeezing slightly and your lips parted as you gasped. He took the chance to deepen the kiss, and you began to relax. You let out a content little moan, pressing yourself into him. He decided, right there, that he would be the one to absolutely ruin you, and he’d enjoy every second of it. 

He slowly ran his hands further and further up your thighs, each pass coming closer to your core. You were squirming, wiggling and trying to get closer to him, your hips keening. He groaned into your mouth as you brushed against his cock, already hardened. You paused for a brief second, before doing it again. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, before flipping you and kneeling before you, tugging legs to bring you right to the edge of the couch. You yelped and braced yourself on his shoulders, planting your feet on either side of him. You were wearing a dress, and nothing but a scrap of silk separated him from touching you, feeling how wet you were for him - he could already scent and see it, but gods all he wanted right now was to taste you. Lorcan let out a long breath, reminding himself to go slowly. 

You were gazing down at him, eyes half lidded with lust and lips swollen. His thumbs caressed the inside of your thighs and you shivered under his touch. He rose, just enough to grip the back of your head and tug you down for another kiss, digging his fingers in just enough to keep you in place. You ran your hands down his chest, and he fought the urge to hiss as your cold fingers slid under his shirt, thumbs running over the planes of his stomach. 

You separated from him, and gazed at him, tugging at the bottom of the shirt. “Take this off.” 

“Needy,” he murmured affectionately, ignoring your squawk of indignance and crossed his arms to toss his shirt to the side. Your eyes gleamed as you took him in, the planes of his stomach, the dark hair of his chest. Lorcan felt oddly … on display, but didn't mind it as your nails dragged down his chest. Light strokes, not enough to bring any pain, but your teeth tugged on your bottom lip as you ran your hands over his chest, down his torso, right towards the edge of your pants. That’s when he caught your wrists. 

“Enough for now.” Lorcan pushed gently on your shoulders, letting your body melt back into the pillows. He resumed his strokes up your thighs, slowly getting closer and closer to your core. 

-

You knew, objectively, that Lorcan hadn’t done much, but every one of his touches seemed to set you on fire. The way he groaned underneath you, how his hard length felt against your core - only fabric separating the two of you. You wanted him, and badly enough it started to scare you. “You’re stalling,” you complained. 

“And you’re being impatient,” he countered, and settled back on his heels. “Show me how you touch yourself.” 

Your cheeks flooded this time, bright red - but with embarrassment instead. “I can’t,” you whispered. 

“Yes, you can.” His eyes were unyielding, and you got the sense that if you didn’t, he wouldn’t go any further. 

“You’re supposed to be the one helping me.” You tried to hedge. 

“And I will. Show me.” You reached out to kick him, and he caught your foot, pressing a kiss to the inside of your calf. “Be good,” he warned. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, and hiked your dress up, bunching it around your hips. You thoroughly enjoyed how his eyes darkened, zeroing in on the wet spot you knew was between your thighs. Maybe it was the whiskey, but a sudden bit of boldness rushed through you, and you brought your knees up, shimmying to pull off your underwear. You made it halfway down your thighs before his hands caught yours, pulling it off the rest of the way before discarding them haphazardly to the side. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured, and a smile started to creep onto your face. The fresh air hit you, the breeze coming in from the window was enough to draw a strangled whimper out of you. Lorcan’s hands gripped the inside of your knees, spreading you apart and instinctively you tried to draw them back together, but his grip didn’t budge, he only tore his eyes away from your cunt to look up at you. “What are you waiting for?” 

You trailed your fingers over your thighs, carefully running one up your folds. Before he could stop himself, he caught your hand and brought your finger to his mouth. The fucking taste of you, you tasted so damn sweet, a clean kind of sweetness with a rich undertone that would drive him mad. He convinced himself he could get drunk off of it - even more the way your pupils dilated as he swirled his tongue around your finger. He released it, a smirk on his face, before guiding your hand back to your sweet cunt. “Go on,” he encouraged you. 

You bit on your bottom lip, running a small circle around your clit. Your eyes closed, circling again before pressing in lightly. His gaze switched rapidly between your expression and your hand, the way you carefully explored yourself, squirming as if you couldn’t figure out exactly where to touch. All you wanted was him. His hands, his tongues, anything as long as it was Lorcan touching you. 

Your hand stilled and your eyes opened. “Touch me. Please touch me, Lorcan.” 

The sound of his name on your tongue broke the rest of his self control, and he threw one on your legs over his shoulder. He blew against your clit, eyes watching to see your reaction, and sucked your clit. 

“Oh,” your mouth parted, eyes wide as you watched him. 

-

Honestly, you couldn’t really tell what he was doing, but it felt so damn good you would’ve begged him not to stop. Lorcan had one of your thighs thrown over his shoulder, gripping the other firmly to keep your legs spread for him. You gasped as one finger teased your entrance and he paused, looking up to meet your eyes and you could read the words in his gaze; “is this alright?”

“Don’t fucking stop,” you hissed, and his lips twitched at the corners. Your walls clenched around him as his finger entered, your body squirming at the strange sensation. He crooked his finger, hitting a soft spot on the front of the walls, and you threw your head back in a silent scream. 

Your entire body seemed to coil up, sweat starting to glisten on the back of your neck. Release, that’s what it felt like - everything exploding inside of you, all consuming and euphoric, almost on the border of being too much. Slowly, you felt yourself come down from the high, your body sated and limp with pleasure. 

Lorcan slid his finger out of you, and had an almost predatory look in his eyes, one that made your pulse flutter. “Gods, y/n.” He groaned. 

“Was that …?” your voice trailed off. 

“Yes. It was.” You licked your lips, your eyes trailing down his body, towards where he was straining against his pants. That felt … incredible and you wanted to make him feel that way, to have him come undone for you just like you did for him. “Not today.” 

-

“Why?” You whined, sitting up, and Lorcan had to take a second to compose himself. 

“This is about you.” He rubbed gentle circles to the inside of your thighs. Watching you finish, and knowing he was the one giving you your first filled him with immense satisfaction. Satisfied that he was the one bringing you there, for the first time. Almost like he’d left a mark on you, something you’d always remember. 

“I want .. I want more.”

“Greedy girl.” He hummed, ignoring the disgruntled noise coming from you. 

“You’re being mean.” Your bottom lip stuck out slightly, and he flicked it, but rose to his feet, tugging you to stand before switching spots, back to the position you were earlier, although your legs were shaking this time - he noticed with some satisfaction as he ran his hands up and down your thighs. You moved quickly enough he didn’t catch it, and your hand palmed him through his pants. 

His hips jerked and he cursed under his breath, catching your hand before you could do anything else, anything else that might make him bend you over the side of this couch and split you in half. Hellas knows he wanted to, but he held himself back - he didn’t want to overwhelm you. And … part of him wanted to drag this out for as long as you’d let him, and if that meant waiting and holding back then he was fully capable of doing it. His hand pressed you back into his chest, slipping under your dress to run firm strokes up and down your back. 

- Even though you were still borderline painfully aroused, a wave of exhaustion did take over you, and you figured you could handle resting your eyes for a few minutes. His hand running against your skin had your breaths evening out, and before you realized your head had dropped onto his shoulder, soaking in his warmth, a hum of content came from your chest. Safe, you could trust Lorcan, trust him with your vulnerability. You were very glad he offered.

[throneofsapphics]

Hii could i request something fluffy with lorcan and his mate is like clumsy?

Hope you have a nice day🫶🫶

capable of chaos 

Lorcan x Reader 

Summary: You keep dropping things, Lorcan is mildly frustrated. 

Warnings: none 

A/N: thank you for the request! I hope you’re having a great day :) 

Lorcan winced as the dagger clattered to the floor, missing your bare feet by inches. In seconds, he was across the room, throwing you right over his shoulder. 

You laughed, fists pounding at his back. “I”m fine,” 

“You almost stabbed yourself in the foot,” he hissed, dropping you down on the couch, far from any sharp or pointy objects. In fact, he scanned the surrounding areas to make sure none were within a few feet. . 

A soft laugh, and you wiggled your foot, “all in one piece.” 

“For now,” Lorcan sat next to you, tugging your feet over his lap, letting his hand rest on the inside of your calf. “How have you survived by yourself for this long?”  

You let out a vaguely offended noise, but it was a genuine question. Sometimes he has no idea how the hell you haven’t gotten yourself killed yet. 

“I’m a fully capable female,” you said - but even then you glanced at the ornament on the mantle, above a currently raging fire. A decorative sheep you’d fallen in love with, now missing an ear because you dropped it before they could even get it on the shelf. You were capable of chaos, and he loved you for it, as much as it drove him up the wall on occasion. 

“Sure.” 

A heel lodged itself in his ribs, before he snatched your ankle, now pinning both legs down on his lap. 

With a very dramatic and unnecessary sigh, you relaxed back into the couch cushions, body loosening. “I should pick up that dagger, before someone steps on it.”

Before the sentence finished, Lorcan had already grunted and shot up, snatching it from the floor. Already up, he decided to make tea for the two of you. He didn’t bother telling you, you’d be able to see what he was doing. 

Once the water was boiling, he glanced  over his shoulder. You’d stretched out further on the couch, now taking up the entire space, arms resting behind your head, eyes closed. 

“For a capable female,” he said dryly, “you’re very content to lay there.” 

You peeked one eye open, “do you want me handling sharp objects? I can think of a very good home for that dagger.” 

He rolled his eyes, “your aim is horrible,” but did another check to make sure none were within your reach. There’s always a chance you’d get lucky. 

[throneofsapphics]

can i please request an lorcan x reader where she has trouble sleeping so he helps her dooze off by putting her in his lap and cockwarms her whilst he does his reports🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

finishing up work

Lorcan x f!Reader 

Summary: Lorcan finds a new way to help you sleep 

Warnings: cockwarming, light d/s dynamics, nsfw, minors dni please!

A/N: thank you for the request!

“I can’t sleep.” You hover in the doorway, wringing your hands. 

His dark eyes scan your body for a few seconds. You slowly back away, suddenly regretting your decision to come here, but he taps his leg once. “Come here.” You let out a slow breath and cross the room. The rough carpet digs into your bare feet with each step, and your anxiety grows the closer you get. “Couldn’t sleep again?” He asks, as you stand next to the desk, just a foot or so away from him. 

You shake your head. He frowns, but motions for you to sit in his lap. You try not to seem too eager, as you step across those last few feet, sliding into his lap and draping your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin on his chest. 

Lorcan manages to work for a few more minutes with you draped around him, but you keep wiggling and shifting. 

Eventually, he huffs and grabs your hips. “Quit moving.” He squeezes. 

“I’m just trying to get comfortable,” you protest. He rolls his eyes, and you poke his cheek. “Rude.” 

“Do that again and I’ll throw you over my knee.” He grunts. 

You poke him again, just to see if he will make good on his threat. 

“Gods,” he groans. “I don’t have time for this.” 

You push away from him, planting your hands firmly against his chest. You make it as far as your feet, right in front of him before a hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back into his lap. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” His head rests against your shoulder, and he leaves a small kiss against your pulse. You feel his hard length digging into your back, and it’s enough to make you shift. Not intentionally, just out of surprise. His arm tightens around your waist, holding you in place.

“You obviously want me to leave.” You say through gritted teeth. His hold is unbreakable and you don’t try to get out of it. It would be impossible. 

He gently pushes you off his lap, twisting you around so you stand between his legs, his thighs digging in to hold you in place. “I know what might help you relax.” 

“I’m not taking another tonic.” A month or so ago, you came dangerously close to being addicted to them and weren’t willing to risk that again. 

“Not that.” He shook his head, “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course.” You snip, offended he’d imply anything else. 

“Close your eyes.” Your eyes shutter closed and you listen to the sounds of fabric moving, him shifting slightly in his chair. “Keep them closed,” he murmurs, and pushes you back, then he’s lifting you so you're straddling his legs, and you feel pressure against your folds and your eyes shoot open. You were wearing a nightgown, with nothing underneath as usual. He’s at the edge of his chair, his cock hard beneath you. “Closed.” He warns you, and you listen, forcing your eyes to close as he pushes down on your hips, lowering you slowly, each inch slow and borderline painful as your body accommodates to his size. Finally, your thighs hit his and you let out a slow exhale.

His hand presses against your back, guiding you down to rest your head against his shoulder. One hand runs comforting strokes down your spine as the other reaches around you to finish up his paperwork. 

At first, you’re still tense, but slowly you find your eyes growing heavier, your breaths deepening, and you wander through that half-asleep state, completely content. 

“Sleep,” his hand runs through your hair, separating the slightly tangled strands, “I’ve got you.”

[throneofsapphics]

exploring pleasure

Elorcan x f!Reader

Summary: Day 21 - hair pulling with Elorcan. 

Warnings: hair pulling, smut, masturbation, minors dni!

Elide sat propped up against the headboard, knees spread as her fingers circled her clit, watching the two of you with wide eyes. “Gods,” she cursed. She had insisted she wanted to watch the two of you fuck, and you’d never been able to deny her. No matter how much you craved tasting her, craved your head between her legs. 

Your forearms were braced on the bed, Lorcan holding your hips with a bruising grip as he pounded into you. His other hand twisted the back of your hair, making a grip for himself as he tugged you - your back arching as you were forced to rise slightly, neck arched and exposed, breaths slowly growing more and more ragged. He leant over you, canines nipping lightly at your neck. “Good girl. Taking my cock so well.” His breath was warm on your neck. 

His grip danced just on the side of pain, balanced out by how damned good he felt inside of you. “Don’t - don’t stop,” you managed to babble and he let out a low chuckle, you watched Elide tilt her head, teeth digging into her bottom lip. 

Lorcan pulled out, ignoring your protests, and flipped you so you straddled him, thighs spread over his legs before he entered you again. You whined, wanting to watch Elide as well, but his hands gripped your waist - helping you bounce up and down on top of him, hands braced on his shoulders. 

Sure enough a gentle hand gripped your hair, Elide’s body hovering behind yours. Her fingers slid into your hair, turning your head so your lips would meet. Soft and gentle kisses, slow and tentative. 

Lorcan let out a snort, as if he was amused by the two of you - and pulled you off again, flipping so you were able to face her. Elide shot a smile at him over your shoulder, and wound her arms over your neck, periodically experimentally tugging on your hair to draw soft moans and whimpers out of you. You let her explore, try new things and see what she thought. This was still new to her, and you were more than happy to indulge any of her curiosities. Lorcan had stopped moving, but you could feel him trembling with restraint behind you. You slipped your hand down, dragging two fingers through Elide’s folds. Her arousal spread all over your fingers as you dragged them up to circle her clit - just as she’d done to herself. 

Gods, you decided there was nothing better than her coming undone on you, her hand gently gripping your hair - the other bracing your shoulder for balance. She came with a sweet, strangled moan. Behind you, with no small amusement, you heard Lorcan’s panting, felt his trembling, the way his hips bucked slightly as if it was painful to be waiting 

You let Elide ride out her orgasm, let her breaths even back out to normal. She pulled away from you - a gleam in her eyes. “Fuck her,” she told Lorcan, moving to your side. 

“When did you get bossy?” you teased her, but her hand only slid through your hair again - shoving you back on the bed, cheek pressed against the sheets. 

[throneofsapphics]

3 with Lorcan, please!

3. “don’t you get it? You were always just entertainment for me.”

for my one year drabbles celebration <3

I haven't forgotten about these I promise

You wanted to beg, scream, howl, plead on your knees. The male you would give everything for, looking you in the eyes with such disdain it turned you pathetic. 

“Don’t you get it?” He drawled, that cruel and cutting edge returning, “you were always just entertainment for me.” 

“Entertainment.” You repeated dumbly. He nodded, as if you were slow. “Funny,” you felt a jolt of pleasure as he winced at your unusually sharp tone, “how I was entertainment, when you were everything to me.” 

The soft words would cut him deeper than any of his blades could, and you wielded them like you would any weapon. You watched the slight deflation of his shoulders, the only sign of emotional pain Lorcan would ever show. 

Still, his eyes drifted to your mouth, lips swollen from where he’d attempted to soften this blow earlier, before rapidly shifting back to your eyes. “Goodbye,” he said shortly, the door clicking shut behind him.  You learned too late he’d told you that to keep you safe, that he’d hated every single second of it, that he’d done it to keep you from being used as a weapon against him by your Queen, the whom he was bound tighter than he ever could be to you.

[throneofsapphics]

5. "We'll never grow old together" with Lorcan 😭

warnings: mention of maeve, references to death

for my one year drabbles celebration

Maeve, or the bitch, had been on your mind recently, especially considering the male you knew to be your mate, whether he actually acknowledged it fully or not. You traced your fingers over the spine of the book you’d just closed, one with a particularly sad ending. 

“It won’t happen for us,” you mumbled, picking at your cuticle. “We’ll never grow old together, get one of those romance book endings.” You were always the helpless romantic, who happened to fall for the epitome of the dark and stormy type.

“Shut up,” Lorcan said, without any bite to his tone. Considering it was him, you might as well call that love letters. Dark, stormy, and quite rude on occasion. 

You frowned at him. “Did you hear what I said?” 

“Yes,” he rolled his eyes, but wrapped an arm around you and tugged you closer. Right where you couldn’t see his face. Was he hiding something?

“I’m not hiding anything,” he read the words in your eyes, “get your mind out of your books.” 

Lorcan was tense, well more than usual, for the rest of the night. He held you close, almost to to the brink of pain but you let yourself relax into his embrace, and found comfort knowing he was finding that too.

[throneofsapphics]

poly!Elorcan x Reader with 14 please! ❤️

-~🍒Cherry Anon🍒~

14.  “get on your hands and knees, right now”

warnings: implied sexual content

hi 🍒 anon ! <3

for my one year drabbles celebration

“Get on your hands and knees,” Lorcan said gruffly. 

“Right now,” Elide added, a touch of cheer to her tone, “please love.” 

You giggled at Elide’s gentle ‘please,’ and leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips. She eagerly met you halfway. However, when you weren't moving quite quick enough for Lorcan he gripped your hips himself and placed you exactly where he wanted you. 

You felt him move Elide next, probably positioning her in the perfect angle, knowing him he’d be taking this a little too closely to a training lesson. 

“Elide’s supposed to be doing it,” you tried to help. 

“I don’t mind the guidance,” you small hands grip your hips, felt her slide her new toy inside, felt your entire body shudder at the sensation, small moans leaving your lips.

[throneofsapphics]

hiii can i request a crack/ kinda fun/suggestive fic where reader asks lorcan or azriel to put her in a chokehold. Literally thought ab the other day, their huge bicep around ur throat, i’d be giggling like a schoolgirl ngl🤞🤤 he’s kinda worried but she says go harder and he accidentally knocks her out😭😭 she wakes up and couldn’t be happier😁

teach me

Lorcan x Reader

Summary: you convince Lorcan to teach you something new.

Warnings: passing out, tiny bit of suggestiveness, not proofread

A/N: thank you for the request! it deviated a bit

“Why, again, do you want me to do this?” Lorcan had that mixture of annoyment and amusement on his face - a look saved specifically for you. 

“So I know how to escape it.” You huffed. You’d asked him three times, and given him the same damn answer. 

“You want me to put you in a headlock, and teach you how to escape from it.” He deadpanned. 

“Are you scared?” You crossed your arms. That, absolutely, would get him - and you knew it. He grabbed your arms, spun you around, and within a second had you in a headlock. You laughed and heard him grunt behind you. One arm was wrapped firmly across your neck, the other bracing the back of your head. 

“Turn your head,” he instructed and you did, towards the crook of his elbow. “Other way.” You snorted and you twisted the other way. “Tuck your chin.” You did, trying to create some space between your windpipe and his arm. He gave you more instructions, stepping your foot back, keeping your body balanced - not leaning back into him, and throwing your weight forward before twisting your hips to the side. 

It took you a few tries to actually make any progress, and you got the feeling that despite how difficult it was for you, he really was going easy. 

At one point, you shoved your hips back particularly harshly, and he grunted in surprise before his arm shifted the tiniest amount, just enough for you to wiggle out of his grip. You laughed and cheered for yourself, ignoring his eye roll.

Still, you had to ask him. “Why were you going easy on me?” 

“What makes you think I was?” You raised your brows, and he sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Do I look hurt?” You braced your hands on your hips. He frowned, but shook his head. “Then make it harder.” 

“Normally we’d be doing something very different when you say that word.” 

“Lorcan,” you said through gritted teeth, even as your cheeks blushed. His mouth twitched up at the corners, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re scared,” you taunted, and he lunged for you. You tried, but couldn’t move quick enough.

He had you in a hold, and his arm flexed. You didn’t have your chin down, couldn’t create enough space and he must’ve hit a pulse or something as well because within seconds you were unconscious. 

You woke, probably less than a minute later, to Lorcan cursing - you laid out on the couch. The relief in his eyes was immense as you blinked yours open. “Gods, I’m sorry.” He grasped one of your hands, sitting on the couch next to you. 

You shook your head, and a grin formed on your face. “That’s what I meant.” 

His jaw dropped, eyes widening slightly. “You’re insane.” 

You flicked his nose. “You love me for it.”

[throneofsapphics]

drabbles

finishing up work*

capable of chaos

(not very) patient*

oneshots

a deal between friends*

[throneofsapphics]

celebration masterlist

from this post. thank y'all so much for sending these in, there were a few duplicates, and a few extra might make there way out, but I kept it to 12 to keep myself realistic. I'll update this as they're posted! I love all of you and thank you so much for the support!

The Arrangement* - Rowan/Fenrys/Lorcan x Reader (2/25)

"You'll take what I give you"

A Favor - Dorian x Reader (2/27)

"I could help you forget him/her."

Loyal Friends* - Ruhnlidia x Reader (2/29)

At least I didn't get arrested. 

"You look so pretty on your knees."

"You look good with my hand around your neck."

Thin Doors* - Rowaelin x Reader (3/2)

"Please, pick one broom closet and stick to it."

The Other Side - young!Rhys x Reader (3/4)

"I hate you." "No you don't."

"How do you sleep at night?" "I usually go for a bed." 

Pretty For Me* - Mor x Reader (3/14)

"You look so pretty on your knees."

Last Avenues* - Feysand x Reader (3/24)

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" 

"Is that all you have?"

Stay In The Moment With Me - Rhys x Reader (3/27)

"I don't want to be alone tonight"

A Present* - Nessian x Reader (3/28)

“Take it off”

A Pretty Smile - Nyx x Reader (3/29)

"How have you survived this long by yourself?" 

At least I didn't get arrested

Breaking Point* - Manon x Reader (3/30)

"Do it already or I'll find someone else."

Supposed to Be Us - Asterin x Reader (3/31)

“Tell me it was a lie.” “I can’t.”