#circe x reader

[yoyneversawmehere]

Honey & Necter

♡Circe x fem!reader

♡Review: Circe eats you out

♡Content: Smut, oral receiving, vaginal sex, fingering, lesbianism, tit sucking, I love women

♡Author's note: @circesorceressofaeaea this one for you, babe(^з^)-☆also, not proofread(I'm too tired)

"Dearest…?" You called out tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper.

Circe moved restlessly, her figure a blur as she paced back and forth, muttering under her breath. The tension in the air was palpable, her frustration simmering ever since Odysseus and his crew departed for their treacherous journey to the underworld. You had caught snippets of their conversation through the thick doors while keeping the curious nymphs at bay, but you sensed that Odysseus was not the subject of her irritation.

She stopped in her tracks, turning to meet your gaze. Her eyes softened as they met yours, though you could tell her anger had not fully extinguished

"My love," she called out, her voice a melodic invitation as she gestured for you to enter. You settled onto the bed that occupied the center of the room, and shortly after, Circe joined you, practically throwing herself into your embrace. She curled up against you like a sweet little koala, seeking solace in your presence. You gently wove your fingers through her hair, a calming gesture aimed at soothing her tumultuous thoughts.

"What is it, baby?" you asked, your tone soft and gentle.

"That bird brained imbecile," she spat through clenched teeth, her frustration spilling over. "He dared to set foot on MY island, stole MY precious moly from MY garden, and then handed it to Odysseus to deceive me. I swear, I wonder if those feathers made their way to his brain… if he possesses one at all." Her voice trailed off, hollow and echoing, as if the very mention of him could summon his presence.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at the sight of her adorable pout and furrowed brows, the embodiment of frustration yet impossibly endearing. You stroked her cheek, hoping to draw her gaze back to you, and when she looked up, her expression was a perfect blend of vulnerability and defiance.

"This is no time for laughter," she said flatly, yet you couldn’t help but be captivated by her fierce beauty.

"I know, love," you replied, leaning in just enough so that your lips hovered tantalizingly close to hers. "But you’re just so cute.”

She scoffs at you and rolls you eyes before coming closer to find solace in your warmth. Anything to calm her nerves.

The moment your lips met was like a delicate whisper of warmth, gentle and reassuring at first. But as you lingered, the kiss deepened, evolving into something more feverish and desperate, a testament to the swirling emotions that enveloped you both.

You reluctantly pulled away, your breath mingling in the small space between you as you watched her lean forward, a longing in her eyes, striving to bridge the gap and draw you back in. Your lips found each other once more as she slowly guided you to lie on the soft matress of the bed beneath the two of you.

Both of your breaths are haggard, hearts racing so fiercely that it feels as if they could echo throughout the quiet room. Her fingertips trail down your body, drawing shivers in their wake as your breath hitches, caught in a delicate mix of anticipation and desire.

“Love—” is all you managed to choke out before she stopped you with a gentle hush.

Her lips travelled from yours, gliding down to her neck, where you leave tender bite marks and smudges of lipstick across your flawless skin. Each time her lips graze a particularly sensitive spot, your mouth parts slightly, releasing soft mewls of pleasure that fill the air and shiver down your spine.

Her hand finds the delicate ties of your tunic, expertly loosening them and revealing you to the inviting warmth of her touch. The cool air kisses your skin, causing you to shiver slightly in response. Your face burns with fever as the tips of your fingers continue to glide over your soft curves, while her lips brush against your skin, enveloping you with the warmth of her affection as she murmurs sweet nothings meant only for her ears. Her fingers tangle in your hair, anchoring you close, as if the proximity could erase the world around you.

She continues gradually venturing down your body, her lips trailing along the contours of your thighs, teasing you in a way that stirs a mix of longing and frustration. Your cheeks bloom with a deep flush, and her breath quickens, a tantalising rhythm that matches the rising and falling of your chest. With your lips slightly parted and her brows furrowed in expectation.

Her lips trailed down your thigh, tantalizingly close to where you longed for her touch the most. The anticipation coursed through your veins, a heated longing for the pleasure you had been craving, when suddenly, she halted, a soft, almost helpless sound escaping your lips.

"So needy..." she murmured to herself, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Circe... please..." you whimpered, your patience fraying with each passing moment.

She let out a melodic laugh at your desperate pleas, her gaze roaming over your body like a predator savouring its prey. Her eyes glinted with a mischievous hunger, taking in every curve and contour of your form.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," she praised, her words wrapping around you like a spell, sending you spiralling into a whirlpool of desire and longing.

"Don't worry, honey..." Her voice slips into a dangerous whisper as she allows herself to rest herself in between your thighs, inches away from your throbbing cunt. "I'll make sure you feel good." She trails off. The weight of her words hung heavy on you only causing you to need her even more.

Her breath was the first the catch you, causing a cold sensation on the wetness of your core. You gasp slightly, biting your lip. Your heart is racing again, anticipation rising. She's looking at you with those eyes, she's watching your every move, every twitch, the way your chest rises and falls, the way your eyes follow hers with this pleading look, she's studying all of it, every inch of you.

Finally, her mouth is on you, circling around your clit sucking on it slowly. Your body jolts with an unexpected surge of pleasure, your head thrown back as tension courses through you. She gazes at you intently, her tongue flicking playfully, teasing you with each deliberate movement, skillfully eliciting a symphony of aching sensations that make your back arch and your moans rise to a higher pitch.

Every motion is intentional, honed to perfection, drawing forth broken yet sweet sounds from deep within you—music that dances in the air, a melody that delights her ears and stirs an undeniable connection between the two of you.

She places one hand on your thigh, keeping it from squeezing her head, to keep you open for her while the other inserts itself between your thighs, working in tandem with her tongue. Hit that spot that makes you cry out her name at the top of your lungs.

She gently pulls her mouth away from you, but her hand continues its tantalising rhythm between your thighs, gliding up the contours of your body to press a soft kiss against your breast. Her tongue traces the delicate curve of your skin, finding its resting place on your nipple, sucking nd nibbling on the soft opening up a whole new area of pleasure.

Her thumb now replaces her tongue, circling your clit, insistent and teasing, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Overstimulation floods your senses, and tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes as your breath quickens, each inhale becoming more erratic. Your body quivers and shakes, each pulse rising to a crescendo, leaving you breathless. Your hand grips her hair as you start to mumble incoherent sentences. The only clear word is her name, all you can think about is her, only her. All her.

A sharp ragged cry leaves you as your orgasm finally washes over you. Your back arched and the grip on her hair strained as all your built-up pleasure finally released.

Circe lifts herself up, observing how your body limps and quivers under her influence. She enjoys the remnants of you lingering on her fingertips. Not a word is uttered; she merely watches you, completely satisfied with her work.

Your vision is blanketed in white, and you swear you briefly see Zeus himself before slowly coming down from your high. You're brought back to reality when you feel soft hands gently stroking your cheek, and you instinctively lean into the touch. You sigh softly and smile up at your girlfriend.

"Are you okay, baby?" Her voice carries a gentle lilt, a touch of condescension woven through, yet it remains laced with a warm, comforting undertone. You can only manage a soft hum in reply, still caught in the haze of your previous state.

She gazes down at you, her smile brightening her features, before leaning in to plant a tender kiss on your cheek.

"I'll go get you some water," she says, rising gracefully from beside you. As she stretches, her movements fluid and effortless, she turns back, a playful glint in her eye. "And when I return, I expect round two~”

Thanks for reading♡

[yoyneversawmehere]

"Rise of the moon"

♡Circe x fem!reader

♡Review: You find circe working late at night again, but you bring her back to bed.

♡Content: Fluff, exhausted circe, lesbianism, short fic

♡author note: I'm running into a circe brain rot. Yall boutta be sick of me.

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling colder than usual. You searched the room and came to realise your loving girlfriend was nowhere to be found.

You sat up on the bed and threw on your robe before going on a search to find her, That's when you came to find her back turned, testing new spells on various objects.

You sneak up behind her and snake your arms around her waist. A small yelp came from her lips before she realised just who was behind her.

"My love... You scared me." She spoke softly to you as she put a hand over yours.

You nuzzle your face into her back. "Come back to bed..." You trailed off. You hated it when she did this. Why must she always do this late at night? She always has the morning to start her endeavours.

"I know, love. I just have to test this spell."

You could hear the exhaustion in her voice. She was tired, yet she wouldn't let herself rest.

"You can do this tomorrow. You need to relax." You say as you put your head on her shoulder to peek at what exactly she was doing. There, you saw a dead rat lying on the table in front of her.

'Eugh..' You thought.

"I promise I'll be done soon. Go back to bed." She turned to look at you. Her eyes were drooping, practically begging for sleep.

"No. We're going to bed together. Right now." You protested, pulling at her arm to move. She was too tired to argue anyway and followed you to your shared bedroom.

Her feet were dragging, and if it weren't for your lead, she might have just knocked into any and every object on the way. You laid her down on the bed, and the moment her head hit the pillow, you swore she was already dead asleep. You wiggle yourself into her arms and kiss her jaw softly before drifting off to sleep as well.

Thanks for reading♡

Art credits by Gigi♡

[linxnnalyn]

hi! I think (?) your requests are open (if they aren’t just delete this and pretend I never sent this in) and if they are I had an idea for a Circe x reader where the reader is kinda like pirate captain esque and accidentally crashes her ship into circes island but falls in love with Circe and ends up giving up her captain role to someone else to stay with Circe on her island and be happy with her

idk this just randomly came to me but if you don’t want to/don’t feel like writing this just delete this ask!

Circe with a fem! ex-pirate! S/O

࣪𖤐.ᐟ note -> NO ONE UNDERSTANDS HOW MUCH I LOVE PIRATE READERS!!!! ALSO I'M OFFICIALLY OFF BREAK!!!

࣪𖤐.ᐟ warnings -> none.

࣪𖤐.ᐟ content includes -> fluff, readers crew is mostly women, smitten, the nymphs, idk what else to add lol.

۫ ꣑ৎ Circe wasn’t surprised when a group of pirates crashed into her island, since it happened quite often. What she didn’t expect was that the crew was mostly women, and that the crew was led by a woman—you. It is safe to say Circe and her nymphs welcomed the women with open arms, distrusting towards the men but you kept them in line.

۫ ꣑ৎ She was the one to personally attend to your injuries. Circe never minded the way you would talk her ear off about your and your crew's adventures on sea while she tended to your wounds, she actually finds them quite intriguing and interesting. Circe could also see how the younger nymphs loved hearing about the stories, so she always let you continue.

۫ ꣑ৎ As time passed, Circe started to enjoy your company more and more. The two of you would often walk throughout the gardens of her palace or she would watch as you and your crew fixed up your damaged ship. It was fairly obvious that you were her favorite, especially noticed by the nymphs who hatched a plan to get the two of you together because of how obviously smitten their lady is.

۫ ꣑ৎ She knew that as the time passed and the two of you grew closer that you fell in love with her. It was obvious, really, from the way you look at her, from the way you would try and show off while sword fighting with one of your crew members, the way they would tease you whenever she was around. Circe found it cute, really.

۫ ꣑ৎ Even though she was obviously smitten for you, Circe never acted on her feelings, not wanting to take you away from your crew. Circe could see how much you cared about them, and as much as she wanted to she didn’t tell you about her feelings, simply because she would feel like she was forcing you to stay on her island, away from the sea and adventures you adore.

۫ ꣑ৎ So Circe was quite surprised when on the night before you and your crew were supposed to leave the island, you confessed your love for her, telling her how you wish to stay and be by her side. She was stunned to say the least, but Circe can’t deny that your words made her happy. The two of you talked about it for hours, making sure that it is really what you want.

۫ ꣑ৎ Circe watched as you said goodbye to your crew and friends, giving up your role as captain to your right-hand woman, promising that you will still see them again, that it is just a matter of time when they crash into the island again. Crice could see the pain in your eyes as the two of you watched the ship sail away, and she held your hand until you were ready to go back to the palace.

۫ ꣑ৎ She knows that it is hard for you to adjust to this new life, with her and her nymphs, so Circe makes sure to help you adjust. Circe likes to have you stay in her room with her as she makes potions, or go on walks together throughout the palace gardens during a nice, sunny day. Circe especially likes to play with your hair as you fall asleep in her lap.

۫ ꣑ৎ Circe adores the way you would play and spend time with her nymphs, even willing to teach them sword fighting to defend themselves if ever needed, though that often just ends up with you and the nymphs playing pirates for the fun of it. Circe just can’t help but watch from and distance, thankful for the fates for bringing you to her.

۫ ꣑ৎ You and Circe would sometimes at night sit at the beach, staring into the shining sea with your hands intertwined, happy that you have been able to meet each other and love each other. It doesn’t matter that you sometimes still long for the sea, you are happy and contempt with staying by Circe's side.

[burdenof-dutyandwinter]

"Fallen And Can't Get Up"

[Circe x gn!reader]

Greek Myth Masterlist | Masterlists

Warnings: descriptions of a fever, fluff

Word Count: 908 words

A/N: For a friend. I don't write women very often-or at all- but this was a special case.

The floor feels cold against your cheek as you lie there, uncomfortably aware of just how much of a mess you are. One moment you were trying to get up, a simple task you’d done a thousand times before, and the next moment you’re lying flat on your back in the middle of Circe’s grand hall.

You shift slightly, trying to push yourself up, but your body protests, the fever making you weak. Everything is hazy—your head feels stuffed like you're underwater, and the pounding in your skull threatens to drown you.

Before you can attempt another feeble movement, you hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching. You blink as a shadow falls over you, and there, standing above you, is Circe. Her expression is a mixture of concern and mild amusement, though there's no cruelty in her gaze—only fondness.

“Are you quite alright, Lovely?” She asks in that beautiful voice of hers. Dear gods...

You manage a weak smile, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “I… I think I have a fever," you murmur.

She tilts her head, studying you with a strangely comforting gaze. Her gaze sweeps over you, and she doesn’t seem in a hurry to look away, as though she's trying to determine just how sick you really are. You feel your cheeks flush, and not just from the fever.

“That much is obvious,” Circe says. “You are burning with fever, and your limbs seem to have lost their strength entirely.” She kneels beside you, her fingers lightly trace your brow, brushing away the sweat. “Why didn’t you call for help?” Her voice holds a reprimand, but there’s a certain tenderness there too. “Foolishness, to let yourself suffer alone.”

You let out a weak laugh. “I thought I’d just… rest for a bit. But I guess my body had other plans.”

Circe’s smile deepens. Her presence is all-encompassing, like a steady, calming force. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against your arm. The coolness of her touch contrasts sharply with the feverish heat of your skin, and for a moment, you swear you can almost feel the fever retreating from the spot where she touches you,

“I’ll help you to the couch,” Circe offers.

You try to protest, but even the effort feels draining. “I... I can manage...”

But Circe doesn’t seem to be listening. Before you can protest further, she lifts you with ease, her arms cradling you as though you weigh nothing. It’s almost disorienting. Her hands move like silk, smoothing your hair, keeping you from wobbling too much, and with an almost effortless grace, she guides you to a plush chaise lounge near the windows.

She settles you gently onto the soft cushions, adjusting the blankets around you as if making sure you’re safe. You can feel her lingering close, her gaze still fixed on you. There's something in her expression now—something soft, almost affectionate, but the power she holds in her presence is undeniable. It's strange, how soothing her gaze can be, how it makes you feel both small and incredibly safe at the same time.

“There,” Circe says, smoothing the covers over you. “Comfortable?”

You close your eyes, hoping that the world will stop spinning for a moment. Your breath is still shallow, your throat burning like you’ve swallowed fire, and it takes all your strength to keep from shivering.

Circe notices immediately. “You’re trembling,” she observes, sitting down next to you. She lifts her hand to your forehead once more, her fingers cold, but this time, she lingers there longer, almost as if drawing the heat from you. The sensation is strange but oddly calming.

“Rest, now,” she says, her voice low and coaxing. “You need only sleep and let your body heal. I will stay with you.”

You open your eyes to look at her, suddenly aware of how close she is. Her presence is warm, even though the coolness of her skin against yours contrasts sharply with your fevered body. You feel her magic, subtle yet potent, swirling around you, as though it’s creating a protective barrier between you and the illness, though you can’t quite make sense of it.

“Stay…?” you repeat, your voice a little breathless.

“Of course,” she replies simply, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. She smiles softly, her eyes softening with something that might be affection—or something far more dangerous, something unreadable. “I won’t leave you, not when you need me.”

You blink up at her, feeling a flutter in your chest. The exhaustion and fever make everything seem surreal, but somehow, you’re not frightened. With Circe here, there’s a quiet comfort that starts to settle deep inside you, like an unspoken promise. Her presence soothes you, wraps you in warmth, even as your body continues to fight off the sickness.

Circe leans down closer, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. Her touch is soft, but there's a certain possessiveness to it, a feeling that she’s claiming you in this small, quiet moment.

“You need not apologize for your weakness,” Circe says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Even the strongest fall ill sometimes. It is no shame.”

You can barely summon the energy to speak, but you manage a faint smile, your eyes heavy with sleep. “I… I didn’t think I’d fall this hard,” you whisper with a half-hearted chuckle.

She leans in close, her breath warm against your ear as she speaks in a low, gentle tone. “You’ll fall again, I’m certain of it. And next time… I’ll be here.”

Oh, yeah, you were falling again.