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#Herb enthusiasts
the-cultivated-home · 11 months
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Lemon Thyme: A Journey Through Fragrant History and Gardening Triumphs.
Welcome to the world of Lemon thyme, where fragrance dances on the breeze and culinary adventures await. Unearth the history, unravel the secrets of successful cultivation, and unlock the magic of Lemon thyme. From soil secrets to sunlight desires, wateri
Picture yourself in a vibrant garden, the air filled with the invigorating aroma of fresh herbs. Among them stands an unsung hero—a petite yet potent herb known as Lemon thyme. With its delicate leaves and captivating fragrance, Lemon thyme has woven its way into the hearts and gardens of herb enthusiasts around the world. In this blog post, we embark on a journey through the enchanting world of…
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femmesandhoney · 3 months
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okay but please tell me what you think the most sexy herb is. i mean all herbs are gorgeous but like which one to you is the sexiest herb.
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antisocialxconstruct · 3 months
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evil narcissist manipulation schemes: sharing homemade bread with coworkers so they'll compliment my baking :)
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i love leaves bc whenever i want a drink i can literally just go outside and grab 3 sage leaves off a bush and stick it in a cup of boiling water and boom tea. it’s one of the wonderful things about life. makes me feel glad to be here for that moment where i can sip it
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joonie-beanie · 7 months
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Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]
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Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k
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Sigewinne is evil.
You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)
It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.
You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.
Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.
You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.
…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.
“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”
Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—
“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”
And you’d responded with—
“Errand girl.”
“What?”
“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”
—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.
“Hmm. Very convincing.”
The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.
So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.
Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.
Safe to say, the two of you get along.
…which Sigewinne notices.
You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.
The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.
However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.
Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.
“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.
“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”
Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.
The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.
But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.
“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.
“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.
“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”
You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.
“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”
“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.
“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”
Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.
“What?”
She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.
“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”
Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.
Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.
“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”
Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.
“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”
You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.
Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.
“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.
“Of course!”
“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.
You nod.
“I see.”
“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”
She cutely huffs.
“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”
“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”
“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.
“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”
You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.
“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne. 
“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”
The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair. 
“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”
“I suppose that’s fair.”
Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—
“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”
“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.
“Hmm…”
He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting. 
Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.
“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.
“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”
“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”
You shake your head.
“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”
Sigewinne cutely laughs. 
“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”
Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.
“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”
“Good! I want both of you to drink up.” 
Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?
“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.
Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.
You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today? 
You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.
“Oh! Y/N!” 
Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.
“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”
“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.
His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.
“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.
“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.
Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.
“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”
You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.
There’s sweat beading on his brow.
“Where are you going?”
“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”
You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.
Your tummy starts to ache.
“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”
Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face. 
“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”
You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing. 
What’s this about doctor’s orders?
You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.
His pants feel too tight.
“Sigewinne, you did not—”
There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing. 
He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.
“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…
“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”
She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.
“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”
“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.
“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”
Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor. 
Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…
So, she decides to cut to the chase.
Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.
“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”
“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.
“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”
“Sigewinne—” 
Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.
Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.
“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”
Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.
“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”
With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.
A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.
"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."
You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.
You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.
"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."
Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.
"Have I been acting like a hardass?"
"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…
"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."
"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.
"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"
"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."
"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.
However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .
So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.
"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"
"Ah, you caught that."
He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.
"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."
"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"
"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight. 
"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"
Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth. 
"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."
You pout.
"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"
"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."
Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.
You sigh.
"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"
You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.
"And?"
You take a deep breath.
"That you're a cute puppy."
He blinks in shock.
"...excuse me?"
Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.
"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."
For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs. 
Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak. 
With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair. 
Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.
He coughs, pulling himself back together.
"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."
You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.
The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.
"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."
You swallow, anticipating his next words.
"Would you be…interested in having sex?"
Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.
"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded. 
"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"
"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head. 
"We are."
In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.
Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.
You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.
You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another. 
Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.
“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.
“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.
“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”
Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.
When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.
“Wh—”
Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.
“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.
“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.
“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.
“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”
Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.
Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.
“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”
His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue. 
“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.
And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.
So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.
…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.
Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.
No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.
Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.
The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.
Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…
“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.
“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light. 
“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”
You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.
However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.
With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.
Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.
Shit, he thinks. 
His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.
There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—
“Let’s get you right side up.”
—and the world spins again.
Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.
“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.
You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.
You glance down at his lap.
“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”
“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.
“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”
Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.
“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.
“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”
His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.
It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.
“Here we are.”
Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots. 
By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.
His lips twitch into a little smile.
“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”
Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.
“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”
Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.
In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.
“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…” 
He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt. 
“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.
“Why? Because you like it too much?”
He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them. 
Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.
“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…” 
His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.
“...what say we continue like this, hm?”
Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy. 
His icy eyes catch yours.
“Any objection?”
“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets. 
Wriothesley nods—
“Good.”
—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.
Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.
His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.
It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.
Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him. 
And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.
“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.
Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.
“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—
Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!
“Fuck! ” 
You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.
The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.
…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.
“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.
You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.
Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you. 
The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.
“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.
His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.
Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…
Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.
Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.
So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.
The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.
“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”
Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.
Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.
“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin. 
“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”
You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.
Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.
He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.
Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.
To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.
“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.
Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.
“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.
You can’t take it anymore.
Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.
He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy. 
His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.
It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.
The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.
He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.
After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.
…only to realize that you’re laughing.
“...puppy…”
He props himself up, glancing at you.
“What?”
“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”
You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.
“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”
His hand rubs against your waist.
“...right?”
Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.
“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”
Wriothesley chuckles.
“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”
“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.
“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.
You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.
“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”
Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.
The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.
For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath. 
…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.
“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”
“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”
You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.
“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”
“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.
“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”
His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?
“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”
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The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.
“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”
“Sounds good.”
The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle. 
Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.
“So, I’ll…see you later?”
His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.
“You’ll see me later,” you promise. 
With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.
Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.
To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.
…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.
With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.
When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.
“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”
Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.
“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”
“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.
As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.
“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”
Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.
“...maybe.”
Sigewinne smiles. 
That’s good enough for her.
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edenesth · 3 months
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[12:58 PM]
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"Well, how does it taste?"
Peering through the doorway, you tried not to make a sound as your boyfriend's mother asked, her eyes gleaming with affection, watching as her son, who was finally back home after a lengthy absence, enthusiastically savoured the homemade delicacies before him.
"It's good, as always!" San answered between bites, "Though, I must admit, it's got a slightly different flavour today. Not bad, just different," His mother bit back a grin as she sent a wink in your direction before he continued, "It's got that strong taste of the herb my girlfriend always adds to her dishes."
With a light chuckle, Mrs. Choi inquired, "So, whose version do you prefer then? Mine or your girlfriend's?" He glanced up at her with a puzzled expression, "What do you mean? Didn't you prepare this?"
She shook her head, a cheeky smile on her lips, "Nope, I was lucky to have a very helpful apprentice who volunteered to cook today while your lazy ass slept in."
His chewing halted momentarily as he blinked, straightening up in his seat, "W-wait, you mean—"
Before he could finish, you interpreted his mother's nod as your cue to make your entrance, "Surprise!" You exclaimed, swinging open the door to his parents' room and skipping toward them.
Mrs. Choi cooed as she enveloped you in a hug, "This is my lovely assistant for the day. How did you enjoy her cooking?"
As he took in your presence and processed the fact that you were really here, he crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, "Babe, did you lie to me? I thought you said you were too busy to come to Namhae with me."
"You ungrateful brat!" He yelped when his mother smacked him on the shoulder, "Is that all you have to say to your girlfriend after she took an emergency leave from work just to rush over here so she could surprise you and spend some time with us?"
His eyes widened in realisation, guilt flooding over him for immediately accusing you of lying to him. Jumping up from his seat, he hurried over to you, ready to beg for forgiveness if necessary, "Oh my gosh, you did? I'm so sorry, babe!"
While he tried to embrace you, Mrs. Choi shot him a stern glare, "You better be! Otherwise, I'll take her with me today to meet my friends, and you can spend the rest of the day alone at home!"
You snickered as he cowered behind you, attempting to use you as a shield, "I was wrong, eomma! I'll treat her well, please don't take her away from me!"
With a scoff, she nodded at the food, signalling for him to finish his meal, "You can start by polishing off what she made." Seeing her preparing to leave home, intending to grant you two some alone time before the family dinner scheduled for later in the evening, you moved to help her gather her belongings.
"Bye, eomma! Have fun with your friends! We'll see you, appa, and noona tonight!" He called out from the dining table, bowing his head in shame when she responded with a hand gesture indicating she would be keeping an eye on him.
"Don't worry about us, aunty. I'll keep him in line," You whispered to her as she slipped on her shoes. She giggled, giving your arm a squeeze, "Good, let me know if he does anything to upset you. I'll straighten him out."
You couldn't contain your laughter when you came back to find him sulking while doing the dishes. Snaking your arms around his waist from behind, you nestled your cheek against his broad shoulder, "What's wrong, Sannie? Aren't you glad I'm here?"
He pouted as he set the clean utensils aside to dry, "Seems like you've already had my mother wrapped around your little finger, huh? I swear, she loves you more than she loves me now."
"If you want her undivided attention, I can leave." You teased.
Before you could pull away, he panicked and spun around to hold you tightly, "N-no, please don't go!" He pleaded, burying his face in your neck, "I was just playing with you, babe. I missed you like crazy. I'm so glad you're here, and seeing you bond with my family means the world to me."
You melted at his words, tightening your embrace, "I know, Sannie. I was just playing with you too."
He couldn't resist moving in to capture your lips in a deep kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him back just as fervently. Pulling back slightly, he murmured against your lips, "Well, instead of playing with my feelings, why don't you play with something else?"
Gasping loudly, your cheeks flushed red at the implication, "Wh-what are you suggesting, Choi San?! This is your family's house, it wouldn't be appropriate—"
He burst into laughter, pecking you on the head, "What were you thinking, babe? I was just talking about Byeol. We haven't been here in so long, I'm sure she misses us. Don't you want to play with her?"
Only then did you recall the presence of his cat, and you turned over your shoulder to find her staring curiously at you and her owner, "R-right, of course. I missed her too."
He cupped your face, urging you to meet his gaze, and grinned slyly, "But you know, if you have other ideas, I'm sure we can—"
"No, stop it, we won't!" You squealed, flustered, pushing him away and rushing over to cover the cat's innocent ears from whatever suggestive remark your boyfriend was about to make.
Gently stroking Byeol's black fur, you cooed down at her, "Don't pay attention to your oppa and his filthy mouth, hm? Unnie will shield you from him," When the adorable creature affectionately mewed and nestled into your hands, you turned to playfully tease him, "See, she already loves me more than she loves you."
Rather than feeling envious, your boyfriend's heart swelled with warmth and love at the sight. It was at this moment that he realised you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
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ATEEZ Masterlist | My Pookie's Version
Y'all, the way my hand itched the second I saw San's IG update asdfghjkl I just had to write this! My bestie and I both decided to write our own versions of scenarios inspired by these photos. Do check out her version!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @cereal-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 8 months
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Practice On Me — Part Three — Azriel x Reader
Summary: It’s not an Illyrian party without at least one person starting a fight. Azriel is a jealous little shit. Y/N wants to put the smile right back on his face.
(I really don’t want to ruin this chapter for u but I finished writing it and all I could hear was Camilla Cabello in my head singing “I’llll be hooome for chwismois” — you’ll see why)
Word count: 6.2k
Warnings: Some fiiiilthy language. 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni 🌶️
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It’s not that you and the others are trying to take advantage of Rhysand’s mother’s absence. But having an empty property at your disposal definitely comes in handy.
Particularly on nights like these, two weeks later, when the cottage is packed full with more people than it can reasonably host. There’s drinking and conversation and faces you don’t even recognise, and someone has brought Elpys Vine, a herb grown by someone’s sketchy great uncle on the continent that’s supposed to make you hallucinate.
Judging by the empty chair that a male opposite you keeps winking at, you think it’s probably having the desired effect.
The spot next to you dips down as Azriel takes a seat at your side. He hands you a drink, and so naturally, his arm drapes around your shoulders. It’s comforting — and also a relief, to know that things are still normal after what happened on this very couch two weeks earlier. Not a slither of awkwardness.
But your eyes have most definitely been snagging on every unfamiliar female around you and wondering if one of them could be the target of Azriel’s affections. If Kaeda is here tonight, he hasn’t said so.
Part of you wants to ask, and part of you…doesn’t. For whatever reason.
“This is definitely already way out of hand.” Az comments, cocking an eyebrow as he takes in the volume of people packed into the small space. “I thought it was supposed to be a small gathering.”
 “That’s what Cassian told me, too.” You say, and then curiosity gets the better of you. You try to make it seem casual as you study the various females dotted throughout the room. “Is Kaeda here?”
Azriel’s eyes find yours, and he gives a small shake of his head. “No.”
“You didn’t invite her?”
“I didn’t invite anyone. That was Cassian’s job.”
You heave a very dramatic sigh indeed. Sometimes, Azriel is his own worst enemy.
Not that you’ve minded helping him so far — not at all. But surely there must come a point where he directs all he’s learnt at the intended person.
“I will make my move.” He tells you. “I’m just…not quite there yet. Still working on it.”
Fair enough, you suppose. Before you can say anything else, Cassian is suddenly slumping haphazardly into the space at your other side. One of Azriel’s shadows snakes out and clasps your drink before it can slosh down your front.
“Time for a game.” Cassian calls to the room, and you want to groan. Games with Cassian usually ensure chaos. “Let’s play Knife Point.”
There are enough enthusiastic responses that you know your reluctance will be wildly outnumbered. Knife Point is a game that’s used as a ruse to kiss as many people as you like — something you delighted in at fifteen, when kissing was still new to you, but you don’t feel quite the same excitement five years later. It’s pretty simple: a knife is placed in the centre of the table, and the players gather round. One-by-one, everyone takes their turns spinning the knife, and whoever the point settles on when it stops is who the spinner must kiss.
Basic, really. But Cassian loves kissing people.
You and Azriel share a look — one that says he’s no more excited for this than you are. And then you both crack a grin and settle into your seats, because you’ll always go along with Cassian’s shenanigans, even if you complain about them first.
“It seems only fair that the future high lord starts us off,” Cassian says, and slams a dagger down on the coffee table with unguarded enthusiasm. He grins at Rhys, who’s sat in an adjacent armchair with a curvy redhead on his lap. “Rhysand, darling — would you do the honours?”
Rhys flutters thick, dark lashes and gently removes the female from his thigh. “It would be my pleasure.”
The room watches closely as he spins the knife in a sleek way that has a few gazes heating. It spins fast, and then slows, slows, before landing on a female to his right whose name you don’t know. He angles himself towards her, and the smile he gives her most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in love, and the heated kiss he lands on her mouth most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in lust. She looks genuinely heartbroken when it comes to an end.
But then it’s her turn, and she’s kissing Jonan, an ex-fling of yours, and then Jonan is kissing Cassian, and then Cass is spinning the dagger and it’s pointing at you.
Your friend bellows a comical shriek of delight and jumps up so enthusiastically that this time, Az’s shadows can’t stop your drink from spilling. Cass is utterly oblivious as he turns to you with a wicked grin, holding his arms out.
“Come here, sweetpea.” He uses the nickname he’s called you for as long as you can remember. “Come make all my heated dreams come true.”
You snort, handing Az what remains of your drink and pushing to your feet. You intend to deliver a quick peck to Cassian’s lips, but so typically, he clasps your face with enough force to lift you from the floor, and his mouth lands heavily on yours.
Immediately, a chorus of jeers and laughs ring out around the circle. Cassian’s huge hand cups your jaw, and he kisses you like you’ve seen him kiss countless males and females before. It doesn’t matter that you’re his friend, an old comfort blanket — he gives you the exact same energy he gives them. He doesn’t do things by halves.
And the kiss certainly isn’t bad, if not a little strange. You can think of far worse people to be doing this with right now.
It goes on a little longer than necessary, and when you feel it deepen, feel Cassian’s tongue probing yours, you break away. Make a dramatic show of grimacing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Damn.” Jonan snorts. “You didn’t kiss me like that, Cass.”
Cass smirks. “You’re not half as pretty, nor half as arousing.”
They squabble, and the game continues, and you slump back down by Azriel’s side, already tuning out the noise. You turn to retrieve your drink, only to find Az draining the rest of it.
“Hey.” You knock your arm against his. “I was going to finish that.”
He stares forward, not even looking at you as he quietly replies, “I figured you were too busy.”
Your face creases into a frown as you take in the stiff, rigid set of his body. He’s damn near hunched in that corner of the couch, and it can’t be comfortable with how his wings are a little squished, but it seems almost as if…as if he’s trying to put some space between you.
You try not to think too much about it as you return your attention to the game once more. The knife continues spinning and people continue kissing, and only once does the blade point in Azriel’s direction, to which he tersely announces he was never playing to begin with.
It’s that which makes you realise the reason behind his mood going south. He’s only just started exploring the art of kissing with you, only just started becoming comfortable with it. The last thing he’ll want to do is make a whole song and dance about it and kiss a near stranger in front of a group of people.
Combine that with his natural aversion to huge gatherings, and it makes sense, now, why he’s clutching your empty cup so tightly, and the muscle in his jaw keeps moving.
When everyone else is distracted, you place a hand on his arm.
“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You suggest. “Get some fresh air.”
But he barely looks at you. Just keeps staring forward. He shoots a quick, hard look in Cassian’s direction and rips it away just as fast.
“I’m fine here.” He says. “You knock yourself out.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You know Azriel well enough to know when his social tolerance is at an all-time-low, and being at a party is the worst possible thing for him.
He goes more and more into himself, his brooding, and he seems to emanate an invisible signal that warns people to stay far, far away. Not even the drunken, giggling females approach him. The Shadowsinger is in a dangerous mood, and it won’t take much to set him off.
He doesn’t seem all that interested in talking to you, either, given that all your attempts have been met with quiet, one-worded responses. And so, figuring he’ll come to you when he feels like it, you wander off to get yourself another drink, and you sink into the throes of the party.
At some point, you feel a warm touch on your forearm, and you turn to find Jonan there. He’s a damn nice male — for an Illyrian. A little cocky, maybe, but kind. Not the sexist brute that so many of them turn out to be. You and he had been two eighteen-year-olds, excited about exploring each other’s bodies and sex in general. Realistically, it was never going to go anywhere, but you ended things in good spirits, and you’ve very casually fallen into each other’s beds on a few occasions since.
Judging by the way his dark eyes drink you in, you’re sure he’s hoping that tonight will end in the same manner.
“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say as you pull back from the hug he gives you.
His eyes seem to glimmer with flirtation. “Perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough.”
You snort. “Or perhaps you don’t train close enough for us to run into each other all that often.”
That’s definitely it. The Illyrian males are sorted into different training groups based on a whole host of different things. Unsurprisingly, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel are in the most skilled group. Jonan is in a different one.
And it’s Jonan’s group, you know, that has just got back from a harsh training exercise that takes them away for weeks at a time. Which is the most likely cause of you having not seen him in passing.
Azriel’s group will be the next to go on one last training exercise before everyone breaks for the winter solstice. They’ll be setting off any day now, as soon as they’re called forth by their general. A few weeks without your three closest friends is a thought you don’t want to linger on.
“How was the training exercise?” You ask, genuinely interested. There will always be a part of you that wishes that was you, out there, putting your skills to use.
But you’re female. And females stay behind.
“Fucking brutal.” Jonan answers. “The weather is bad this year, so we were out there a week longer than we were supposed to be. My sleep pattern is still fucked.”
“Sounds like you need to relax.”
“Oh, I do.” His eyes trail down your body. “Perhaps you can help me with that.”
You open your mouth, not entirely sure what you mean to reply. All you know is that you’re not jumping at the offer of easy, mindless sex like you have done in the past.
But before you can respond, Jonan is stumbling forward, into you. Thanks to a huge, muscled body knocking into him.
He whips around to face Azriel, spilled drink forgotten in his hand. You didn’t even see Az‘s approach.
“Watch it, Shadowsinger.” Jonan narrows his eyes at him. “You almost knocked Y/N over.”
Azriel stops and eyes Jonan with clear dismissal. A rare, antagonising expression sits on his flawless features. “Are you talking to me?”
“Do you see any other shadowy fucks around here?”
One side of Azriel’s lips twitch up in satisfaction. So rarely does he waste his time looking for a fight, but he’s looking for one now — and has found one.
“What I see,” he says, and steps closer to Jonan, towering over him considerably, “is an irritating little cunt who’s in my way. Move.”
But Jonan doesn’t move. Like a typical Illyrian, he salivates at the prospect of a punch-up. He looks a little pathetic as he tries to square up against Az.
“Now, now, Azriel,” he sneers. “That’s no way to talk about Y/N, is it?”
And the mention of your name in Jonan’s mouth is all it takes for Azriel to launch himself at him. There’s not nearly enough room for this, and as he grabs Jonan by the front of his tunic and slams him against the wall, all sorts of surrounding objects go flying.
At once, everyone is turning to watch the confrontation. And so fucking typically, of all the people in the room, neither Rhysand nor Cassian are anywhere to be found.
Which means you’re dealing with this alone. Because nobody else will care to break this up.
You curse quietly and jump in just as Jonan goes to land a hit on Azriel’s jaw. He falters as you throw yourself between them as best as you can at the angle. It’s not great, but you manage to wedge an arm between them.
“Hey. Enough.” You snap, and it feels like all the times you’ve reprimanded the camp younglings. “Cut this out right now.”
Jonan scowls. And actually says, “He started it.”
It makes you never want to have sex with him again. Never have you been drier between your thighs.
“I don’t give a shit. It stops now.” You stare between them seriously, and then you’re firmly grasping Azriel’s arm. “Az, we’re leaving. Now.”
There’s a moment’s hesitation, like Azriel really, really does not want to give up the fight. But then he’s letting go of Jonan’s shirt, more or less dropping him to the floor.
“Fine by me.” Az fucking smirks at the male. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
You don’t spare Jonan a single further look as Azriel grabs your hand and pulls you through the thralls of people, all disappointed at a fight not coming to fruition. But their attention is quickly stolen by something else, and you don’t look back as you and Az step out into the cold.
Az begins to walk as though the past minute never even happened. You’re quick to catch up to him and grab hold of his forearm.
“Hey.” Your breath clouds in front of your face in the cold night air. “What was that?”
Azriel shrugs. “It was nothing. He is nothing.”
“You—”
“It’s fucking freezing, Y/N. Can we just go?”
You stare back at him. The urge to pry more, demand an explanation, is a strong one. But it is freezing, and in this frame of mind, you’re not certain he’ll tell you anything, anyway. He’s in a strange mood — probably in anticipation of the upcoming training exercise. Perhaps unwisely, you decide to drop it.
“Go where?” You concede. The biting cold makes the decision to do so much easier.
“Dormitories. You can stay with me tonight.”
Dormitories is a very generous term for the limited accommodation that is offered to each training legion. Most of it sits unused, due to the majority of Illyrians preferring the harsh, toughening dwellings of tents and crumbling old houses in all extreme weathers. But a certain amount of small, draughty rooms are available, and Az tends to make use of his when the cottage begins to feel too crowded, and he needs a break from living on top of Rhys and Cass.
There’s no hammering droves of snow tonight, and you’ve patched up your boots enough to hopefully last you a little longer. A broad expanse of stars glimmers above you, making it a rather pleasant night for a stroll — or it would be, if not for the unavoidable presence of Azriel’s bad mood.
Your attempts at conversation are met with non-committal responses, and by the time you’re kicking through the peeling wooden door to the accommodation, you’re fucking exasperated.
Azriel can be very, very insufferable when he thinks himself into a foul mood.
You could go home, back to your father’s house — you certainly consider it as you follow Az into his cramped dwellings, but…you don’t know. You wouldn’t like to leave him like this. To walk away without seeing him crack a little smile. In nine years of friendship, you’ve never done so before. So you shut and lock the door behind you, and resign yourself to a very silent, very tense night.
You press your back against the door, watching as Azriel perches on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes. Through the walls, you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin, and the building moans of a female close to climax. This miserable building is more often used as a place for a quick fuck than it is to actually sleep in.
But Az doesn’t seem to notice as he shrugs out of his clothing, quickly slipping on a pair of low-slung cotton sleeping trousers, and sprawls out across the mattress, wings fanning around him.
You’re not sure why you don’t move, at first. Or maybe you are.
Your gaze snags on the toned muscles of Azriel’s torso, and the smattering of dark hair that maps a line from beneath his bellybutton to what sits under his trousers. You’ve seen it countless times before, and yet you can’t stop staring.
Particularly when he stretches his arms above his head, and then drags a hand down his stomach. To him, it’s a subconscious act, but to you—
You can’t stop yourself zeroing in on his hand. The very hand that touched you and bathed you in a pleasure so stunning, so splintering, that you hadn’t dared to try and replicate it yourself since. Such inexperienced fingers had coaxed such expert sensations—
“Are you coming to bed?” Azriel’s voice drags you from your thoughts.
“…Right.” You clear your throat. “Yeah.”
“There’s a shirt for you in the armoire.”
You shuck off your clothes, digging out the tunic you often borrow from Az to sleep in. He barely spares you a glance, his eyes glued to the ceiling. You can’t help heaving a sigh as you pad over and slip beneath the blanket. The faelights wink out, and for a while, you both lie there in silence. It’s you who eventually breaks it.
“Are you going to tell me what that fight with Jonan was about?”
Az slings an arm above his head. “You were there. I’d hardly call it a fight.”
“No, I’d call it an overreaction.”
“Jonan’s an arrogant bastard and everyone knows it.”
He brooks no room for argument. And he’s not exactly wrong, either. You know Jonan gets himself into more brawls than the average person. But Az wasn’t exactly justified tonight.
But before you can think of a response, he says, quietly, “Sorry — if I ruined your night.”
You pause. And then roll onto your side, staring at his outline through the darkness. “You didn’t. I didn’t want to go to the party, anyway.”
There’s a tiny, soft snort. “Me neither.” He agrees. “But going along with Cassian’s ideas is the story of our lives.”
“That it is.”
Az says no more, does no more. And you…you hate it. Because it’s not simply that he’s sleepy and dozing off beside you. He’s just as awake as you are. And his mood is still heavy and tense.
You can’t stand it.
It’s perhaps against your better judgement that you inch closer to him, your mind already made up about how you might lift his spirits. It’s dangerous, because your arrangement has simply been about helping him, and he’s always been the instigator, knowing what he needs and when he needs it. Which he most certainly isn’t doing now.
But you would be helping him…in a way. And you can’t lie and say that it hasn’t bothered you, over the past two weeks, that you didn’t get to return the pleasure he gave you.
It would still be a learning experience. That’s what you tell yourself as you press against his side and drape your arm over his stomach.
Az pauses, but this isn’t unusual for the pair of you. You’ve cuddled like this plenty of times over the years — with your other friends, too. And so there’s no hesitation as he slides an arm beneath you and tugs you closer, his wing tucking you in.
You rest your head on his chest, and you murmur, “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”
You really, really don’t.
You always miss your friends when they’re sent away, but it seems…heavier, somehow, this time. Like there’s more between you to miss.
That…that is not a good thought to have.
You banish it from your mind rather than dwelling on it.
Az’s hand presses against your back. “I’ll be home in time for Solstice.”
You hear the unspoken promise in that statement; the one Azriel knows you need to hear. Because this isn’t just about simply missing his company.
Solstice is…hard for you, to say the least. Being holed up with your father, him drinking from the crack of dawn until he collapses in a chair by the fire. His unpredictable, volatile moods and tendency to pick at you over every tiny thing. It’s the time of year you rely on your friends the most, and you spend the entire day waiting for your father to pass out so you can sneak away and forget him for a while.
Azriel’s bare skin is so pleasantly warm, lulling you back to the present. You shelve your worries for the time being, press your cheek against his pectoral, and breathe in his frost-and-cedar scent. His wing drapes over you, cocooning the two of you in your own little world.
And there’s no better place than inside that world to ease some of Azriel’s tension. Bring the smile back to his lips.
“…Az?” You whisper, slowly gliding a hand over his stomach.
His body tenses beneath you. There’s a pause before he answers, “Yes?”
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing…” He clears his throat. “Nothing much. What are you thinking about?”
The question is an opening for you to stop this right here. You could return a similar, half-assed response, remove your hand from his stomach and go to sleep. Like any sensible, reasonable friend would do.
Or you could be honest.
You could tell Azriel that your close proximity has you thinking all about the magic of his fingers, the sensations he wrought from you. You could admit that it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve thought about it since it happened — not at all. You could tell him that you’re still a little stunned, because besides yourself, nobody has ever made you come that hard.
You could tell him how badly you want — need — to return the favour.
And never one to back down from a situation, however daunting, you do exactly that.
“I’m thinking…” you murmur, and your finger begins to just slightly trace lines over his stomach. Your touch is so light, and yet you feel his body react beneath you. “I’m thinking that there’s more I’d like to teach you about touching.”
A little breath escapes him. “Oh?”
“Mhm.” That finger of yours gets a little bolder, making bigger sweeps over his skin and dancing close to his waistband. “But this time, I want to touch you. You made me feel so good, Azriel. I want to make you feel good as well.”
“You…you don’t have to do that.”
Gods, you know you don’t. You know this situation has never been about him expecting anything from you. Just a friend helping a friend out. No big deal.
But who says you can’t both get something out of it?
“I know I don’t have to.” You answer him. Your hand stops its movements, and you stare up at him, your eyes accustomed enough to the dark to make out certain features. “And I won’t, if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”
A tiny, tiny little pause.
And then Azriel rasps, “Yes.”
It’s a guttural, gasping sound, and it’s so delicious that you want to swallow it.
You don’t hesitate in moving your hand up to his face. You angle it towards you. Slant your lips over his.
And you smile. There’s a mulled wine that Azriel far prefers drinking over the piss-poor ale that most males around here favour, and it’s not the first time you’ve tasted it on him. It’s pleasing to explore — the spices and berries and damp heat of his mouth a combination that coaxes you to slide your tongue between his lips.
Az seems pretty well comfortable with his kissing technique, now. He leans into it, not at all tentative, his tongue meeting the strokes of yours. And then he suddenly breaks away.
“I like—this.” He pants heavily, breath fanning your face. “I like doing this.”
The words make something glow inside you, because that is precisely what you want. This isn’t just about teaching him the technicalities of physical touch. It’s about liberating him from the barriers he’s built in his mind, and showing him how much he can enjoy it.
And your friend deserves that.
You plan to really show him.
You slide your hand over his hip and haul him closer, eliminating the tiny little gap that existed between your bodies. An act that makes him suck in a breath.
“If I do anything at all that you don’t like, you need to tell me, Az.” You stare at him. “Okay?”
He nods.
“I need your words. Swear it.”
“Gods, Y/N, I swear it.”
He kisses you this time.
He really does like doing that.
The kiss is hot and hungry, loitering on the precipice of being frenzied. Azriel’s hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers kneading the skin there. A dim faelight blinks back to life, bathing the two of you in enough warm light to see each other. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips.
But you don’t give him the chance to stroke at your mouth. There are a million other places you can think of kissing; a million other places you’re just as desperate to get your mouth on.
Your lips glide along Azriel’s jaw with the lightness of a breeze. He goes still, appearing to wait with bated breath to see what you’ll do next, and how it will feel. He’s never been kissed here before.
Nor at his neck. You kiss the skin gently, at first, and smile to yourself at the little breath that hitches in Az’s throat. Something told you he’d be amenable to neck kisses.
Indeed, he is, as you attach your lips to the column of his throat and suck.
It’s a soft ungh, this time, that escapes him. A noise of both surprise and delight. Perhaps he never before considered the sensitivity of the neck, how enjoyable it might be to be kissed there. It’s one of many things you want to be the one to teach him.
You suck and lave at the area until his stomach is caving beneath your hand, and then you’re moving on, dragging your mouth over his collarbone. Down to his pectoral.
His skin is hot but its taste is cold — cold, like his scent. Frost and snow, icy starlight, the whipping winds and thrill of flying. Gods, it’s all delicious, and you close your mouth over his nipple, desperate to taste more.
Azriel starts, his back arching just a little. Your eyes flit up to his as your tongue teases the peaked flesh.
“This okay?” You check, allowing your teeth to graze just a little.
“Yes.” Az breathes. “I never considered that that might feel good for—for a male, too.”
You smile, repeating the action, fastening your lips totally around the nipple and giving a gentle suck. It earns you another quiet sound in response.
But you don’t want quiet. You want to make your friend feel so good that he can’t keep a lid on those sounds. The muscles of his stomach are quivering under your palm, and you decide it’s unfair to make him wait any longer.
So as your tongue circles his nipple, you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers.
You’re careful, even though you know the sharp intake of breath is a positive one. Nobody’s hands but his own have ever ventured here. You want him to be aware of every touch, every feeling.
Your fingers skate over the dusting of fine, coarse hair. And lower. And then your hand is on his cock.
The mere weight of your touch drags a breathless little noise from Azriel’s throat. And you pause.
Azriel is big, even by Illyrian standards.
From touch alone, you can feel its length, its thickness. You’re not entirely sure you can fit him in your hand, let alone anywhere else.
But gods are you willing to try.
You take your time exploring every detail, starting at the smooth, swollen head — already leaking a droplet of moisture —and circling its rim with your finger. Azriel’s hips jerk, and you smile, removing your mouth from his nipple to kiss further down,
“Still doing okay?” You ask, coasting your lips over his ribs. The pads of your fingers stroke over the head of his cock slowly, casually.
But there is absolutely nothing casual about Az’s voice as he grounds out, “I’m doing great.”
“Want me to keep going—”
“Please.” The word escapes his mouth before you can even finish the sentence. “Please.”
You smile, and you scoot lower down his body, giving yourself the perfect angle to explore the muscles of his abdomen with your mouth, your tongue.
It allows you to feel the exact moment you glide your palm down the length of Azriel’s cock, following the long, jagged vein.
Gods, it feels like it goes on forever.
The skin is velvety, smoothing over every vein, every bump and ridge. You explore it all, as much for your enjoyment as for his. You can’t imagine what it must be like to feel it sliding in and out of you, hitting a spot so deep inside you that you’d have to bite the mattress—
A thought you should not be having. It isn’t going that far.
And there’s a twinge of disappointment at that fact. But now isn’t the time for disappointment.
You trace the length of Azriel’s cock all the way down to his balls, and he’s trembling beneath you. You tug at his trousers, whisper, “Can I pull these down?”
It might be silly to ask, given that your hand is already well beneath the fabric. But you want him to have a choice in everything.
So when he gives a firm nod and lifts his hips for you, you tug the cotton trousers down, peeling them easily from his hips.
Azriel’s cock springs up. And it…it might just be the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen.
You damn near moan at the sight of it.
But before the sound can escape you, you smother it by pressing your lips to Azriel’s stomach. You kiss the skin, lap at it, graze your teeth over it. And your hand returns to his hardened length.
Finally — fucking finally — you wrap your hand around him.
Azriel makes a gasping sound at your touch, his hips canting up into your hand. He’s so responsive to your touch that you have to clench your thighs together to ignore your own arousal. This is about him. Entirely about him.
It’s about him as you slowly begin to pump his shaft, peppering kisses down and down until you’re at his hip. It’s about him as you squeeze gently and hear the hitching of his breath.
“So responsive,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hip.
“Is that—gods—” He hisses between his teeth as you pump a little faster, “—is that a good thing?”
“Very good, Az. I want to know that you’re enjoying it.”
“I am. Fuck, Y/N, I am.”
“Good.” Another kiss lands on his skin. “You’re doing so good for me.”
The praise drags another noise from the depths of his throat — the loudest he’s made so far. You don’t know whether he’s simply gaining in confidence, or whether he’s losing control. Maybe both. Hopefully both.
And you think you might lose control, too. Watch with rapt fascination as the head of his cock leaks, and it’s swelling, thickening in your hand, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.
You really want to taste him before he falls off the edge.
“Holy gods,” Azriel pants, his teeth biting into his lower lip. “Y/N, I don’t think I’m gonna last.”
“Don’t fight it.” You lick your lips. “Can I put my mouth on you?”
The question makes him fucking groan, and he chokes out an affirmative response, his cock rutting into your hand. You know he’s close, and you want him to finish. Preferably on your tongue.
And when you slide your mouth onto his cock, you know that’s going to happen.
You hollow your cheeks, sucking him into your mouth as much as you can.
Azriel shouts, his head falling back, eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You suck on him, tongue tracing the length of the vein that’s beginning to throb. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the way he slides his hands into your hair, his hips rolling.
“Y/N,” he pants, your name languid and slurred on his tongue, “m’sofuckingclose.”
You pull your mouth off of him long enough to say, “Look at me. Watch me while you come.”
And then you’re sucking him again, your hand wrapped around the base of his length. You pump and lick him and bob your head in time to Az’s hips canting against you, and you think the sounds he’s making may just be the most beautiful ones you’ve ever heard.
And he watches you so closely, his brow furrowed, his lips parted, his chest heaving. Your gaze collides with his, and you’re hollowing your cheeks and giving a particularly harsh suck.
“Oh, gods, Y/N, fuck!”
Azriel spills into your mouth, shot after shot coating your tongue. You take it all, swallowing greedily, savouring the saltiness and the hint of something else that is just Azriel. It seems endless, and so do his groans, his constant string of curses, the jerking of his hips and the trembles wracking through his entire body.
You damn well suck him dry. Not a drop is spared.
As you finally pull him out of your mouth, wipe your lips with the back of your hand and glimpse his shaking, sated form, you know you’re committing the sight to memory. For when this is all over.
He’s…he’s a vision. Head still tipped back. Stomach and chest still heavily rising and falling. Pleasure still pinching his face. His hands are fisted tightly in the bedsheets.
You leave him to come down from his high. He’s still panting a little when his head lolls forward, and his eyes meet yours.
“That was—” His voice cracks a little. “God’s, Y/N, I don’t have words.”
“It’s okay.” You press a gentle kiss to his stomach, tucking his sensitive length back into his trousers. “Words aren’t necessary. You did so well.”
His arms are suddenly around you, tugging you up and against him, your body slanted slightly over his. All the earlier tension from the night is gone, and it’s just you and him, your love and friendship, your unbreakable bond.
Az holds you tightly, burying into your hair. And you think that this was maybe more than just…you returning a favour. You think this might have been a soul-shifting moment for him. Something that released him from the invisible bindings that have held him back for so long.
And it saddens you a little to think that that might be the end of it. That you’ve done all you can do.
But still, you’re honoured to have helped him this far. To have guided him through it.
“Thank you.” He whispers, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. He’s still trembling, and he tucks himself in tight as if he’s worried he might break. “Just…thank you.”
You don’t quite know what to say. It feels a little…final, and you don’t like that.
So you simply nestle into his side, and you repeat your earlier truth, your voice a whisper. “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”
Because you know you’ll miss him more than you ever have before. It’s going to be far harder this time.
What, exactly, that means…you can’t bear to think of it right now.
And there’s no need to as Az holds you tightly, kisses your head again.
“I’ll be there with you on Solstice.” He says. “I promise.”
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azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden
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drferox · 4 months
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Look, I know I’m supposed to drink more water in a day. And I know I just haven’t been doing it. But I’m actually going to make a decent attempt at it this year.
Part of the challenge with ‘just drinking more water’ is a collection of relatively minor but still frustrating hurdles to work around:
Water sometimes tastes bad
If it’s the wrong temperature, it’s bad
If it’s out of the wrong cup, like a plastic one or certain mugs at work, I Do Not Want it
It’s repetitive and boring
So I’d normally end up drinking soft drink of some sort.
Instead, and it’s been working so far, I am trying to trick my brain into farming more dopamine out of drinking water.
First, a water bottle that I think is funny:
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It also helps that it’s well insulated.
Second, flavoured ice blocks using fruit, herbs or juice, and I make 5 different ones for the week:
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The combinations I like are:
Mint and lime
Mint, lime and raspberry
Strawberry and raspberry
Lemon and strawberry
Combining any of the above
Third, I let a small enthusiastic toddler select my colourful ice block for the day, which she is super happy to do. And super insistent on doing now, which both makes me happy and now I can’t possibly let her down by failing to drink the water.
And it’s actually been working for a couple of weeks now. So I’ll see how long the momentum lasts.
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crowlyne · 21 days
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my design for emperor sy au I made him more milf-y bc i do what i want. Ok but lore reason is that he never cultivated past the "immortal" phase and rely on magical herbs given to him by CQM (secretly by SQQ).
binghe definitely wont complain bc hes an old man enthusiast and got horny whenever SY complains about his back pains
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starryriize · 3 months
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— ✧ • ˳೫˚ part of my valentine event!
೫ pairing: bf!wonbin and gf!reader
೫ summary: you and wonbin spend the entire night making pizzas
೫ genre/word count: really fluffy and cute! 761 words!
೫ author’s notes: stop i love this sm 😭 this is peak love to me fr :(( making food esp pizza >>>> (why do i feel like i could’ve made this so much better fr)
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The smell of rosemary and thyme mixed with the aroma of fresh dough filled the entire kitchen,  reminding you of your childhood in your grandma’s home. The idea of making pizza was your boyfriend’s, so he called your dad to ask for his iconic family recipe. He’d given Wonbin the list of ingredients, emphasizing over the phone that he could not forget the most important ingredient: love. “I once made pizza without love and it tasted terrible! So, don’t forget it!” Your dad’s enthusiastic voice echoed in Wonbin’s mind. Perfect for Valentine’s Day, he thought to himself. 
“Y/n! Could you get the flour too, please?” You poke your head out from the pantry, hands filled with various herbs, spices, and of course, tomato sauce. You laugh, putting the ingredients on the countertop. "Sure, love." Flashing a smile at you, he thanks you, carefully adding the flour in. He gestures for you to come next to him, holding his dough-covered hand out for you to grab. You giggle, taking his hand, eyes flicking upward at his face. Removing his hand from yours, he wraps both his arms around your waist, lightly lifting you to sit atop the counter. After placing you down, he goes back to the dough, kneading it lightly.
Turning to look at the dough, you notice the marinara sauce jar is open. So, impulsively, you reach down, dipping your finger in the sauce and wiping it on your lips. "Look honey, do you like my new lipstick?" You wiggle your eyebrows at him, excitedly pointing at your lips. Wonbin lets go of the dough ball, turning to look at you. Throwing his head back in laughter, he leans over, staring at you intently. His eyes flick from your eyes to your marinara sauce-covered lips, resisting the urge to kiss the sauce off of you.
"Yes. It's a pretty red on you." Wonbin softly whispers, leaning in and giving in to his urge to kiss you. It was a soft kiss, like something out of a movie scene. It was in this moment, as he pulled away, that he knew. You were his future. Smiling, he says, “I need to finish the pizza, love. The dough has to prove for an hour or so.” You feel the heat on your cheeks rising as a small smile grows on your face.
Atop the countertop, you had the opportunity to admire your boyfriend as he focused on slicing mozzarella cheese. Taking a small piece, you bring it up to his mouth. Knowing what you wanted, he opened his mouth, letting you feed him tiny pieces of the cheese on the cutting board. “Mmphm-,” he paused, chewing before continuing, “you do realize that I have to use these for the pizza, right love?” You giggle mischievously, flashing a threatening smirk at him. You knew you didn’t look threatening, not with the flour all over you and the residue of dough on your face and shirt.
“You’re not scary, y/n.” He rolls his eyes, pressing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before turning to the dough, carefully removing it from the proving bowl. It smelled amazing, just like how your dad told him. He must’ve made it with love, you think quietly to yourself.
Grabbing two rolling pins, he divides the dough into equal portions, handing you a portion to make into your own heart pizza. “Could you pass me some oil, please?” He nods, momentarily pausing, rolling out his pizza to pass you the oil. He watches in admiration and pure love as you spread oil on the pan itself as well as the bottom of the pizza dough. Taking your hands, you carefully shape the edges and creases, forming it into a medium sized heart.
“I love you.” He whispers out, surprised by how soft his voice sounded even though it was just the two of you in your shared apartment. You giggle, sighing softly, replying, “I love you more.” He smiles, continuing to make his dough look more heart shaped, quietly spreading the sauce and adding some shredded cheese. You put the mozzarella that you’d previously been feeding to your boyfriend, onto your own pizza.
Handing the pizza to your boyfriend, you can watch eagerly as he puts them both in the oven, asking for a 45 minute timer from Siri. The two of you shared more kisses and soft laughter that night as you enjoyed the pizzas you’d both made with love. Your dad was right. Pizza does taste better when it’s made with love.
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lostboigoblin · 7 months
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my $tash jar ^.^
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lilys0evil0twin · 1 year
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Yandere Adam nsfw headcanons ( Record of Ragnarok )
Uuuuuuhhhhhh get ready for a ride, I put both sfw and nsfw since I came up with the whole story and needed it written 😂
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SFW
Adam is an interesting yandere
Despite having a beautiful woman and two sons, whom he's very found of, Adam felt ... Bored? Trapped? Tired of the same thing? ... Uncomplete?
But what could be the reason, he has everything he ever wanted, he has peace, a loving family, save home.... Total Paradise
And yet it was not enough
After their banishment from the Paradise, the first humans explored the earth, their new home, except they weren't alone
After seeing you for the first time, Adam knew you all should stick together, call it an animal instinct, a hunch if you will, but Adam's urgue rooted from something else
His sons Abel and Cain were enthusiastic about you joining too, a lil more than Eve but she was happy for her husband nonetheless
You on the other hand had this feeling of uneasiness, sure you'd accepted the offer right away, it better to be together than alone, and despite you felt more save with them, there was still this little cricket chirping in your ear
You fell into the family relatively quickly, Abel and Cain saw you as another parent those two pranksters loved your hugs and kisses
Eve, being the kindhearted girl she is, accepted you surprisingly quickly, she admired how her sons loved you and you handled them with ease, she loves talking to you when out gathering fruits, flowers and herbs
And then there's Adam, he kept his distance, straining away from physical touch (such as hugs, cuddles or sleeping on each other to maintain warmth) yet he kept you safe, fed and happy
Never saying it out loud, but he hated how his sons loved you, how comfortable they were around you, how comfortable you were with them touching you
He taught them not to take what's not theirs
So one time he just decided it's enough and told his sons off, he taught them about hierarchy of this family
NSFW
When the time comes, Adam feels this tingling in his abdomen
He's even more distant and keeps to himself, but acts more predator like
Staring unblinkingly from across the field, like he wants to hunt you, like you're his pray
Remember how he taught Abel and Cain a lesson? well now they're not allowed to even exist near you or him
Adams mood really determines his actions, he may be cold and feral or warms and soft
Either it is the time to fuck is when he says it's time to fuck, doesn't really care if you or him are doing something or if you don't want to, doesn't really care where you are or if you're alone
One second you may be climbing up the tree for sweet apple and the next he's pounding into you, or you may be looking over Abel and Cain with Eve and then you're held down with Adam between your legs keeping your ankles on his shoulders
Most of the times, it's right after the thought strucks his mind, and wearing only leafs or plants for coverage it's just an easy access
As said before, his mood palys the main cards in his actions
If he's calm and happy, just a little horny, he'll enjoy his time with you and will make sure you do too
Vice versa when he's not in the best mood or god forbid if he's angry over his sons and whatnot, this reflects on his behavior
Not that he's verbal or shows his anger nor directs it to you, no rather fucks you till you pass out, moving faster harder and cares very little about your sweet sports
Either of these sessions never end after one round, no no Adam is going till his balls are empty, until he can't cum anymore
Adam never lets any of his precious seed get wasted, whatever position you're in, his cum ends up inside, doesn't matter where, but it needs to stay inside
That is why he's doing it, that's how he understands ejaculation in general, why would his body excerete something when it's not supposed to stay in the other?
Eve learned to accept you as another partner of her husband and if Adam alows it she'll be happy to join~
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oneshotnewbie · 3 months
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What if Marina x daughter!reader are chillin at home together when Maya gets called to a 5alarm fire. Reader has major anxiety when Maya goes to big fires. Carina tries to calm her down, but gets called in to help with patients being sent to GreySloan from the fire. Reader has to come with Carina to the hospital and sees some of those injured in the ER before making it to Carinas office. Reader begins to follow all the news alert from the fire and starts to panic and worry for Maya. She’s in the midst of a full panic attack by the time Carina can check on her. Maya comes to the hospital with the last of the patients and goes to Carinas office and only then does reader begin to calm down, surrounded by her mothers.
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ᕚ---ᕘ
Dusk fell over the city as Maya, Carina and you decided to spend a cozy evening at home, cooking together and enjoying the free time as a family. The atmosphere was one of heartwarming laughter and the familiar smell of delicious ingredients.
Maya had taken the evening off to spend more time with you. Her job as a firefighter often involved unpredictable events and long working days, which is why such evenings together were particularly precious for your little family. The three of you worked in sync in the kitchen as the sound of happy chatter and laughter permeated the walls. You helped prepare the ingredients while the blonde prepared the aromatic lasagna sauce and made plans for after dinner.
A colorful sight spread across the airy kitchen. Fresh vegetables, fragrant herbs and a variety of spices covered the work surface. The food processor whirred while the Italian woman prepared the dough for fresh pasta. You, stood behind her to look over your mother's shoulder with curious eyes and pick up some tips.
“It smells so good!” You whispered enthusiastically and the two smiled at you, Carina briefly pulling you close to place a kiss on your temple. "It'll taste really good too, Bella."
The smell of garlic, onions and fresh tomatoes filled the kitchen and mixed with the pleasant atmosphere as you and Maya started to set the dining table. Time seemed to stand still as you sat down a short while later and approached the home-made meal that was filled with love. "You really have a talent for the kitchen, y/n. Maybe you should think about becoming a chef." Carina said, clearly proud of you, and you laughed. "Maybe I will. Or I'll become a firefighter. Or at least a surgeon.."
But before everyone could take the first forkful of lasagna, the shrill sound of Maya's radio pierced the harmonious silence. All three froze for a moment before the blonde looked around apologetically, narrowing her eyes. "I'm sorry, but I have to check this. It's an emergency call," she explained as she stood up and hastily searched for the device that was lying on the living room table. "A serious fire in a high-rise building requires 19 to be present immediately."
The joy in the air seemed to fade as the reality of Maya's responsibilities as a firefighter became present again. You looked over at her worriedly as she hurried into the bedroom and put on her firefighter uniform before saying goodbye to you with a quick kiss on the forehead to face the unknown of the new mission. "I love you guys. I'll be back as soon as possible."
With a final, determined look, she left the house, leaving you with a fearful heart. The laughter stopped and the kitchen, which had previously been filled with joy, now seemed quiet and deserted.
For the next minutes, your home became enveloped in nervous tension. You could already see the images of the blazing flames and the sound of the sirens in your mind, unable to get them out of your head. Your fear seemed to grow stronger with each emergency call. The idea of your mother having to fight fire in dangerous situations put you in a constant state of fear and panic.
Carina clearly sensed your fear and tried to calm you down with all her care. She would often sit with you and talk about the importance of Maya's job and how she was well trained and experienced. But your thoughts weren't so easy to calm down. Your fears enveloped you like a thick fog that made your heart feel heavy. "Amore mio, I promise you, Maya knows her job very well. She is strong and has the right training. You have to trust her."
You nodded, but the look of pure panic remained in your eyes as your heart pounded wildly in your chest and your body began to tremble. You couldn't keep your mind off your mother. Every time Maya was called to a new mission, your heart clenched with worry and you could hardly breathe. The persistent fear that permeated you overshadowed the present.
"She'll be back safely. You don't have to worry, okay? The safety of the team members at Station 19 is the top priority for everyone involved," she tried again, trying to ease the uncertainty in your eyes and complete the dinner. "Mom is a professional at what she does."
The smells of the now cold dish disappeared and your mind continued to wander when another beeper rang. This time it was Carina's. It was another emergency call that forced your other mother to come to work in the emergency room.
"I have to go to the hospital, sweetheart. The patients affected by the fire are being taken to Grey Sloan. I'm needed," she explained softly, her brow furrowing as she placed a hand on your shoulder. The words triggered another wave of panic in you that you could no longer suppress. "Please, not you too. Please stay here. I'm so scared. Please!"
“Hey, hey, hey,” she spoke carefully and stood up, pulling you into a tight hug. The gentle sway of her arms barely stopped your running tears, your body trembling in her arms. "If it calms you down, you can come with me and read some books in my office. I don't want to leave you alone with your fears."
ᕚ---ᕘ
The sun had already set when you and Carina rushed into the busy emergency room at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. The panic in your eyes reflected the constant fear for your mother. Carina held your hand tightly, trying to calm you down as she navigated you down the hallway.
The atmosphere in the emergency room was intense. Doctors and nurses rushed from one patient room to the next while paramedics carried in the injured. The smell of disinfectant and the muffled murmur of conversation filled the air. You could feel the knotting tension inside you, getting worse by the second as you walked past the beds filled with people with burns and serious injuries. The image of Maya and the chance of her also ending up in the hospital injured like the rest of the people crept into your mind and your heart began to ache with fear once more.
Your mother led you to her office on the top floor, which was shielded from any hectic activity. "You can safely wait here, love. I'll see what's going on and make sure mom comes upstairs to you as soon as she returns from her mission."
You nodded and slowly walked into the room. Carina gently squeezed your shoulder again before leaving the office and heading back to the emergency room, leaving you alone.
Sitting on the chair next to the door, you tried to organize your thoughts. The images of the injured people in the emergency room were burned into your memory. A tingling sensation ran through your body and you forced yourself to take a deep breath.
The hum of muffled conversation filtered through the closed door as you watched the time and waited for your mothers. The scenes played out in your head of your mom fighting the flames and your mother caring for the injured. The thought of your mothers operating in this chaos increased your fears.
The time in the hospital crept by slowly, and your thoughts continued to revolve around your parents, especially Maya. You couldn't suppress the worry inside you, so you began meticulously monitoring the messages on your phone as you paced around the room. As the first reports of the fire came to you, you felt your fear building at a rapid pace.
With every word you read, another tidal wave of panic seemed to build. The images of fire and smoke described on the news hit you like a blow. You could literally feel the burning intensity of the flames burning your skin.
Your heart was racing, your hands were shaking, and your breathing was becoming shallower. The news reports seemed to confirm your worst fears, and the idea that your mom, Maya, was in the middle of a dangerous inferno almost made you lose your mind. But then the door opened and Carina stepped in. Her expression was serious, but the change in your features made her rush to you immediately. "Y/n, Bella. What happened?"
You could barely find your words as you turned over your phone to see the newscaster exclaiming about the terrible news. "Mom's still in there. She's in danger."
Carina tried to stay calm herself to stabilize you. She hugged herself tightly and walked with you to her desk, your eyes fixed on the closed door, hoping that Maya would soon be at your side as the relentless clock continued to tick. "Mi amore, the media often tends to be more dramatic in its reporting. Let's wait for official news before drawing conclusions, okay? If something had happened to her, Andy or Jack would have already called."
The brunette's words barely reached your frightened soul. The dark panic attacked and overwhelmed you with full force, and you felt the world around you begin to spin. Your chest felt tight and the world blurred before your eyes.
You sat on a chair, surrounded by white walls that, in your agitated state, looked like the shadowy scene of a nightmare. The brightness of the hospital lights seemed ominous, and the silence of the room was overshadowed by the deafening sounds of your own fears.
Thoughts of Maya's possible danger lost all reason. Every time you tried to breathe deeper, the air seemed to disappear like a scarce resource, and the flames of fear only flickered higher. Your gaze was blank and frozen, caught in a whirlpool of terror and worry.
Carina reacted immediately and pushed you into her desk chair. She tried to calm you down while you were overwhelmed. "Breathe with me, sweetheart. Inhale deeply and exhale slowly. I'm here, love." she whispered softly.
The panic attack was reaching its peak, but with each calming touch and empathetic word, the wave seemed to slowly subside. The Italian kneeled down in front of you and placed her hands gently on your knees. "Y/n, listen to me. We can do this together. We will erase this fear together." The words were difficult to reach you, but she didn't let go of it. She tried to calm you down with slow breaths. You gasped for air, but gradually, the control of your breathing returned.
Time stretched, and with every breath you fought your way out of the shackles of panic. The cries of fear became quieter and your vision gradually cleared. Carina held you tightly as the last remnants of fear coursed through you.
While your mother slowly got you back to normal breathing, Maya entered the emergency room exhausted, accompanied by the last patients of her risky fire mission. The experiences of today's fight against the flames had left them scarred.
The sounds of the emergency room came through the front door as she pushed herself through the crowd. She felt the exhaustion in her bones, but the thought of seeing her daughter and her wife again was the only bright spot after the tiring hours. Climbing the stairs to the upper floor, she soon entered her wife's office. You both looked up as the door opened suddenly, a relieved smile lighting up your features. "Mom, you're back!"
Maya nodded tiredly, her uniform marked by smoke and ash as you rushed into her arms. "How are you doing?" She asked you, but you didn't answer and instead snuggled closer to her. A questioning look rushed over her face and she pressed her lips together before looking at Carina, who stood up and immediately walked up to her. "She had a severe panic attack when news of the fire first surfaced. I calmed her down, but she was very worried about you."
Her heart clenched and she pulled away from you. Not hesitating for a second, she placed her fingers under your chin and forced you to look up at her. Your eyes were bloodshot and your cheeks were still wet from crying. "I'm here, y/n. Everything's fine, see?"
You sobbed quietly, the tears trapped in your panic now flowing with a sense of relief as you took a deep breath. The pent-up tension slowly let go. "I was so scared, mom. The news... I thought you..."
Maya held you closer to her. The three of you stood close together, soaked in the warmth of reunion. The flames of fear in your heart were extinguished, and in that moment you found comfort and support in her arms. "I'm here, and I'm safe. You don't have to worry."
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prince-kallisto · 3 months
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Dire Crowley’s Fragrance Analysis
I was completely caught my surprise when TWST dropped room fragrances for all the NRC characters as Valentine’s Day merch. Each character has their own unique fragrance, with the images of the characters used (with Yana Toboso) to craft each scent! (*゚▽゚*)
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Of course, I immediately went to Crowley- and I was immediately fascinated by this fragrance!! \(//∇//)\ 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛I’ve been seeing some confusion in regards to “fatty aldehydes,” and don’t worry- I’ll break down this fragrance as best as I can. Thank you to @overthattwilight and @the-hetchia-universe for your messages regarding this, you two really inspired me to delve deeper into this! Also @moonlightequin1 come eat your meal 👀👀👀
Disclaimer: I do not have a background in chemistry or perfumery. Any information here was gathered through research and personal accounts from perfumery enthusiasts. If anyone has a deeper insight or anything I need to be corrected on, please let me know!
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Crowley having a “mysterious calm fragrance” is backed up by the scents used in this fragrance. Ray and I immediately thought of Diaval from the live-action Maleficent, who watched over and cared for Aurora in his raven form 👀 But I will go into more detail later- let’s go through each descriptor of this in excruciating detail! I warn you now that this analysis is extremely long, to a concerning degree, for a ROOM FRAGRANCE ANDJDJDJJSDKDJ but anyway:
Fatty Aldehyde
This descriptor is rather vague, isn’t it? Many people would have to search this up to even know what it means, and even then, the search results regarding the scent of fatty aldehyde vary GREATLY, from citrus to clean to waxy. The thing about fatty aldehyde is that it’s the label for a grouping for aldehydes with a certain carbonyl molecular composition: C8 to C13. Aldehyde’s that do NOT fall underneath the fatty range are often described as more “milky” or “rancid”, but those are completely different from the fatty aldehyde group.
Unfortunately, since the room fragrances are a liquid product and may contain alcohol in them, I believe that these cannot be shipped overseas from Aniplex themselves 。゚(゚´ω`゚)゚。 I hope a JP fan out there can provide a descriptor for this room fragrance!! Anyway, I say this because C8 to C13 each have their own unique fragrances, and Crowley’s could fall under any of these:
C8- Powerful, Fruity and naturally occurring in citrus oils. Suggestive of oranges and waxy orange peels
C9- Warm, floral (rose and jasmine), fresh and clean.
C10- Orange rind, lemons, sweet
C11- Naturally occurring in coriander (cilantro) oil, bitter and fresh. Said to be pleasant and reminiscent of citrus and rose
C12 Lauric- Lilacs, violets, and herbs
C13- Waxy, Fresh, soapy, clean, like a grapefruit peel
There are claims that C11 is the essential “aldehyric” scent. C10, C11, and C12 is iconic when grouped together because they were famously overdosed in Chanel’s No.5 when it was developed in 1921. Aldehydes had little usage in perfumes until the 1900s, and got so popular that the interest eventually died down in the 1990s. This is probably why that when I was reading personal accounts from people regarding this scent, people said it smelled nostalgic. Something pleasantly old fashioned, vintage, and classic- all words I’ve seen various people describe it as due to its heavy usage in vintage perfumes. It’s waxy scent is also said to smell like “snuffed-out candles,” which is interesting!
Due to the influence of No.5, perfumes with fatty aldehydes are often described to have a piercing “fizziness” in your nose akin to champagne bubbles when it is first inhaled. If a perfume smells “powdery,” or has that fizzy sensation, it’s likely due to aldehydes. Crowley’s fragrance says the fatty aldehyde and the flowers “spread out,” and aldehydes are often used for this diffusive effect. The experience is apparently valued so much more than the actual scent when aldehyde is out in perfumes! It is an abstract experience and sensation.
Using No. 5 as an example, I’ve seen people absolutely adore it or completely detest it because of its overdose of aldehyde. People who dislike say it’s a old lady perfume and the aldehyde stings their nose. But those who like it say it feels vintage and classy. Although it was an extremely popular perfume a century ago, nowadays it’s met with very mixed reviews.
Just like Crowley, no? 🤣🤣🤣 Most modern perfumes with fatty aldehyde now used C9 for a lighter floral and clean scent instead of the overpowering No.5, but I feel like Crowley would have the more vintage scent to him. He is not a man who is easy to describe- and even his scent alone seems to provide a sharp sensation that some love and others hate.
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And yes, if you did think that aldehyde sounds like “formaldehyde,” aka the embalming fluid used to prevent the decomposition in dead bodies, it is indeed part of the aldehyde family! I just think it’s funny that with all the death symbolism at NRC, Crowley is the only character to be specifically mentioned to have a scent related to formaldehyde (don’t worry, perfume aldehyde smells far more pleasant than that! I have had the displeasure of smelling formaldehyde and trust that it is nothing like the perfumes 🤣 Formaldehyde is not used in perfumes/fragrances for so many reasons, I just thought this was a fun fact haha 🤣)
Characters who share this descriptor: None
White Flowers without Sweetness
Ough…I had a hard time for this one because of how vague this is. HOWEVER, several characters have “white flowers” listed in their fragrance profiles, but Crowley’s is the only one describes to be white flowers WITHOUT sweetness. It narrows down what this flower could possibly be a little bit! Σ੧(❛□❛✿)
But unfortunately, I am not an expert. The possibilities could be endless and I don’t feel confident despite scouring the internet for as long as I have today 🤣🤣 But I’ll headcanon it regardless!
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Maybe the white flower being referenced is a lily, which is fitting for Crowley symbolically? This is NOT the lily of the valley, which is a more popular white floral in fragrances due to its clean and light scent (Grim has this scent), so it is very different from the Lily.
The lily has a soft, waxy, and sometimes spicy scent. It’s very fragrant, and I’ve read accounts from people saying that others tell them they smell like a funeral if their lily fragrance is too strong. They are warm and so fragrant that it can almost feel suffocating when there’s too much up close. It can be a controversial scent much like fatty aldehydes. Some people say it smells “off” in a way that’s difficult to describe.
Lilies are also EXTREMELY toxic and deadly to cats. One bite, lick, or the pollen and even the water of a lily can be fatal to a cat, and you should never have lilies in the proximity/in your home if you have a cat. Considering how Crowley can’t get along with cats in canon (Lucius and Grim don’t like him that much either), I feel like Crowley having a lily fragrance would be unfortunately very fitting
White lilies can be bridal flowers, but are most commonly associated with funerals and are known as “sympathy flowers.” Some hospitals even ban bringing in white lilies because of its usage as funeral flowers. White lilies symbolize purity, elegance, rebirth, mourning, and grief.
Interestingly enough, Lilia is specified to be “the sweetness of roses and white flowers.” A direct contrast?
Characters who share this descriptor (White Flowers only): Trey, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Sebek, Lilia
*Note: Some characters specify lily of the valleys or ylang-ylang as a type of white flower used in their fragrance. But all these characters above, including Crowley are just listed as a vague white flower. I imagine Kalim and Jamil’s to smell like Jasmine flowers as a reference to Jasmine from Aladdin, but there’s no confirmation
Characters who share this descriptor (White flowers without sweetness): None
Cedarwood
Despite its name, the oil for perfumery can be extracted from cedar, but most commonly from juniper and cypress trees!
Like most woody fragrances, it is reminiscent of the outdoors. It is said to have warm, rich and complex scent, with earthy and balsamic (heavy/thick sweetness, mature, and soft and soothing scent, like the sticky consistency of balsamic vinegar) tones. When paired with floral or citrus aromas, it can create a luxurious and inviting smell.
Cedarwood in perfumes are used to add a depth and complexity to the perfume. Compared to sandalwood (a very common scent amongst the characters it seems!), Cedarwood is less sweet and smoky, and more soft and “cooling.”
And again, Cedarwood is often described as nostalgic! People say it evokes the smell of like… “pencil shavings and fine cigar boxes” due to these often being made from cedar, but in a sophisticated way haha! 🤣
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Cedarwood is often described as grounding and calming because it’s very commonly used in aromatherapy. It is relaxing and aids in sleep. It’s all about comfort, which fits with Crowley’s “mysterious calmness.” Apparently, the essential oils of cedar has traditional medicinal usage as well, to relieve wounds or aches. It also serves to ward off insects!
Silver is the ONLY other character to share the Cedarwood scent. Bringing back what I say about Diaval and Aurora, isn’t it interesting that Crowley and Silver share this relaxing, foresty and calm scent that even aids in sleep? Silver is the only character in Special Lessons to say that he “feels better when the Headmage is here.”
Cedar is said to symbolism strength, longevity, incorruptibility, and nobility. Lol…🧎In various cultures, the cedar has great symbolism due to the long lived nature of the cedar tree and the oils medicinal properties. It is often used for and surrounds Japanese shrines. Cedar can be connected to Christianity through the Virgin Mary and Christ. The Ancient Egyptians also used cedar oil as part of the embalming (for mummification) process, mostly to ward off insects from the bodies. Some sarcophagi were carved from cedar wood as well.
Characters who share this descriptor: Silver
*Note: Although Cater’s says “cedar,” it’s notably distinct from Silver and Crowley’s “Cedarwood.” Cedarwood tends to more directly refer to the aromatherapy aspects of it?
Amber
Let’s start by saying that amber in perfumes is not related to the fossilized tree sap! (*゚▽゚*) That type of amber has no scent at all, and is not related to the amber in perfumes.
Amber in perfumes is always an “accord,” aka made from a combination of scents. It’s most commonly made from a mixture of benzoin, labdanum, and vanilla. Because it’s an accord, very few ambers in perfume smell the same, as they all have their own different mixtures for amber. It can range from sweet to a little spicy and musky.
Apparently it has a comforting scent to it, warm, smooth, and sensual. It is described as one of the classic scents, and evocative of warm memories and indulgence. Apparently, when mixed with Cedarwood, it’s said to give off a “retro/vintage” timeless vibe. And when mixed with aldehyde, it’s said to have warm, elegant depth.
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Amber is known as one of the “fantasy notes” in perfumery. Fantasy note sounds quite vague haha, but it essentially describes a perfume scent that does not naturally occur in nature and cannot be extracted, thus being a “fantasy.” The fossilized resin has no scent, but the perfume amber tries to achieve that warm, golden glow from actual amber. It is abstract and fictional, which is again rather fitting!
Characters who share this descriptor: Cater, Jack, Jade, Crewel
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That’s all the descriptions, BUT IM NOT DONE YET! 。゚(゚´ω`゚)゚。 You see, when reading through every characters fragrance, you will notice that despite the characters sharing some similar fragrances, they’re listed in a different order. In perfumery, there is a concept of “notes,” specifically top, heart, and base notes. The top note is what people smell upon application. This is the scent where people decide if they like the perfume or not, because that’s they smell first. The heart note leads to the base note, and can even balance out the potential unpleasantness of the top note. The base/soul note is referred to as the “essence” of the fragrance, as it is the lasting impression that can linger for hours at the very end.
Crowley’s top note starts with this fatty aldehyde. Its fizzy, sharp “champagne” sensation is either loved or hated. It can give off a sense of classiness, but the sensory experiences surrounding it can be unwanted. To me, this feels like how Crowley’s character seems exaggerated and flamboyant. He is a character who can either drive players away or draw them in- it all depends on your initial reaction of him if you’ll take a closer look at his character.
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His heart note might be the white floral without sweetness. It is plain yet warm and waxy. It’s sometimes more toned down compared to the aldehyde, but it’s still a selective scent. Perhaps here is where you sense something “off” about Crowley- he smells a bit too much like a funeral as if he’s still there in mourning. Something beyond his initial exaggeration, and how his character is leading to something deeper and perhaps foreboding. And much like the novel states, there’s an odd sense of grief/melancholy surrounding Crowley, but it is a sadness he keeps close and hidden in his heart.
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The base/soul note being is Cedarwood and amber, which is again a common base note! After the sensations of the fatty aldehyde and the oddity of the lily, Crowley seems to suddenly reel it back in to something soothing and relaxing, much more evocative of nature and is inviting. For the few who stayed around to look beyond his playful and admittedly irresponsible antics, there’s this sense of calm. Crowley is much older and wiser than he makes himself out to be. He is capable of caring for others, he just shows it in very subtle ways- he even refers to the students as his fledgings. There’s this nostalgia and calm when being around him, although we currently don’t know why.
And with amber being this warm and classic, a “fantasy,” it feels like this fragrance is trying to end off in a dream-like sensation, evocative of the real amber’s golden glow. At the end of the day, we don’t really know who Crowley is yet. His fragrance is described as a “mysterious calm,” even if in canon he’s always super reactive and even bursts into tears or screams at the littlest of things. Perhaps he brought us into his world, perhaps he didn’t. Do we even know him at all, really? We don’t know, and all there’s left of the lingering fragrance of an indulgent glow.
I hope I could provide some insight to the components of Crowley’s fragrance! 😭 I hope I was right about at least one thing with what Yana and the perfumers had in mind when making this from Crowley’s image! 🤣🤣 I have no idea how it would actually smell all together lol, and I’m sad that the majority of us can’t have access to this, but hopefully this provides a better idea of his scent and how it connects to the “image” of his character? His fragrance could smell like cheap plasticy hand-sanitizer and I would be none the wiser despite spending hours on this cursed analysis NSJFJSJDNZ but allow me to imagine that he smells good! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛
Also, I think it’s funny that Lilia is described to smell “historical” NAJDJDJDJD when Crowley is similarly quite old school 😭
Ough…Crowley’s fragrance essentially being like nostalgia and comforting old memories…SOMEONE END ME NOW 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛
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asttrogirl · 5 months
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☆ ━ WC; 0,4k
☆ ━ SUMMARY; let's put together the word husband, choso and letter of resignation to the jujutsu world
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As you adjusted to this new phase of your life, watching Choso carefully tend to the small backyard garden was fascinating. His figure, which usually radiated a commanding presence, softened as he tended to the delicate plants.
Being half-cursed, Choso was in the process of adapting to the normality of a society removed from witchcraft. The mere idea of immersing himself in common work routines and other daily activities wasn't something you wanted to impose on him.
In contrast, you were accustomed to the routine from your adolescence in the world of witchcraft, feeling a constant need to stay busy. This led you to seek part-time work after acquiring a comfortable home for both of you.
Money wasn't an issue, thanks to the small fortune you had amassed as a former first-grade sorceress, so you made sure to find a part-time job that allowed you to be home after lunch. However, during those hours, Choso was a bit lost in what to do with himself until one day, while perusing the library shelves, he came across a book that Yuuji had given him some time ago about home gardens.
At first, he flipped through it with curiosity, but soon he was immersed in its pages. That book became his guide, and Choso began to experiment with the backyard garden more intentionally. What initially seemed like a simple pastime transformed into something more meaningful for him.
You observed how each day he immersed himself more in caring for the plants. His hands, which had once only known brute force, now moved delicately as he pruned, watered, and cared for each plant. The connection Choso established with nature, once so distant for him, became increasingly evident.
Although he didn't know much about the subject initially, his dedication and patience soon bore fruit. Fresh vegetables and aromatic herbs began to thrive under his care, turning the small garden into a flourishing corner in your home.
And that brings you to this moment, watching him work on some weeds that had grown near the peppers.
The hair that usually hung loose was now tied in a ponytail, and he wore his gardening pants along with a loose-fitting shirt. Apparently, you had been watching him too much, as he turned around.
"Is something wrong, dear?" he said, a smudge of dirt painting his left cheek.
"Nothing, Cho. I was just thinking about the peppers you told me about the other day," you said, causing his face to light up. In addition to gardening, he had also been getting interested in gastronomy. Not that he didn't cook, as he could make a couple of basic dishes, but he wanted to make the most of the vegetables from the garden, and what better way than with a meal prepared by him for you?
"I can't wait for you to try them. Maybe I should do something special with them," he suggested enthusiastically. You could notice a slight blush on his cheeks and a gentle smile accompanying his words.
The idea of a special dinner with fresh garden produce sounded charming. Both shared a knowing look before he immersed himself again in his green world.
The sun began to descend on the horizon, tinting the sky with warm and golden hues. In that tranquil moment, as Choso continued his work and you accompanied him from the door, you thought that this is exactly how you had imagined your retirement: in a small home, with your garden, and a husband who loved you.
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─ a/n; i'm definitely going to turn this into the husband!choso series
©asttrogirl│don't copy or translate
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itstheoneshot · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 27
Aphrodisiacs - Yeosang
!dom Yeosang
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Yeosang was smart, so much smarter than he gave on. He did research, as did you, science, natural remedies, plants that could alter your state, and his current fascination was with chemicals that increase your libido.
“Drink up,” He urges you, “I promise, it tastes good.”
You lift the cup to your mouth, the sweet aroma fills your nostrils as you let the liquid enter your mouth. Hot tea, herbal, a concoction created by the man sitting across from you who is consuming the same beverage. He was correct, it did taste good, warming your insides immediately. Yeosang reaches over to take your hand, staring at you lovingly at first… and then hungrily.
You were sceptical that a few herbs, leaves and spices could make you feel this way, but your cheeks warm up from not just the temperature, and that warmth continues downwards, tingling, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end, and alerting you to the source and centre of that heat.
“Come,” Yeosang murmurs, “Finish it.”
There was only a mouthful left, and you drink it quickly before placing the now empty cup down on the table. Yeosang squeezes your hand gently, feeling that same warmth, his eyes focus in on the way that you lick your lips to catch a stray droplet before he looks up at you again. It is exciting, partaking in his little experiments when they benefit you just as much as it does him.
“This was different to the last one,” You observe, “What should I expect?”
Yeosang chuckles, “Just feel it, my love… just let your body feel the way that it makes you.”
You follow Yeosang out of the dining room and barely make it a metre down the hall before you really begin to understand. Drawn to him more than usual, are you imagining this? Yeosang feels it too, turning you to face him with ease and stepping you back up against the wall with a fiery kiss, a warning of what is about to come. He is eager, dragging you down the hallway without pulling away, it is messy and desperate, each second apart is too long, he needs you and you need him now.
Finally reaching your bedroom, in an attempt to take control you pull him down on top of you, but not thinking it through, you have given him all of the power. With him hovering over you, your legs spread apart to give him space between them just so that you can wrap them around him, desperately trying to get him closer as if there were any space between you in the first place. Your hands slip under his shirt, needing it off him, needing to feel those perfectly sculpted muscles, a request which he happily obliges, only pulling back from the kiss for a moment to remove the clothing before he begins to work on yours. You don’t know which of you is more attracted, obsessed, and you swear you have never needed him like this before.
“Holy shit.”
It takes mere minutes to be fully undressed, you are already dripping, and Yeosang is rock hard, as he enters you without preparation, but you didn’t need it anyway. He fills you up, but again, this time it feels different. Increased pleasure, increased attraction, was this really all from a single cup of homemade herbal tea? You cry out his name as he pulls back to thrust into you again, letting your legs fall so that you can use your strength to lift yourself up and give him a better angle to fuck you in. Your back is arched and he reaches depths that he could not normally, his eyes roll back in his head and low moans leave him in harmony with yours of a much higher pitch.
“Good girl,” He praises you, “Do you believe me now?”
You weren’t really sceptical, you knew that there had to be some merit to the drink, and all the ingredients in it, maca root, ginseng, yin yang huo, what else was there again? but you had no idea that it would work so well. He fucks into you hard and fast, keeping you on edge for so long that you fear you are going to go crazy.
“Yes,” You nod enthusiastically, quickly remembering to answer him, “Yes, Yeosang, oh fuck, yes!”
The focus of his kisses soon move from your lips, to your jaw, and down your neck. They move back up, right to your ear, heavy breathing against it has your mind racing, vision blurring, you have got to be close. Your fingers tangle in his long black hair, soft to the touch, everything feels different now, in the best way possible. His skin is soft and smooth, muscles more… hard, veiny, and oh god, his cock, curved just a little, each thrust into you helps you up, up, up, and over… orgasming in his arms, so overwhelmed that you start to cry from the intensity of the pleasure. One orgasm leads to two, three, again you feel that nothing has ever felt this fucking good. You need him like oxygen, and you could go for hours if your body allowed it.
You are practically screaming when Yeosang finally pulls out, his hand racing to his cock to pump it only a few times before he releases, the force of his load so hard that it reaches your neck. Watching him while your own legs shake with the aftershocks of your high, mind still racing, body still reeling from the help that you had, it is too much, and you are already counting down for another round. You glance down at your body, stomach and chest slicked with his seed, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. Yeosang leans down to kiss you, not caring about the mess, just wanting to be with you, unable to be apart. It is hot, the hottest you have ever felt, not quite sure if you can find the words to describe it.
“I hope you kept that recipe,” You murmur in between a deep kiss, “I will definitely want us to drink that again.”
———
kinktober masterlist
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