#scent longevity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nmyphomania · 7 months

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ [Kinktober Day 12: Exhibitionism]

Summary: He appoints his closest advisors to watch him raw dog you the night of your wedding.

Warning(s): F! Reader, exhibitionism, finger sucking, snowballing?, spit as lube, oral sex (f. receiving), full nelson, doggystyle, mouth spitting, rough sex, sloppy kissing, vaginal fingering, choking, squirting, breeding but only a lil bit, cervix kissing, public bedding ceremony, handjob (f. receiving), possessive Zuko, not proofread

WC: 2.6k+

•𑁍•

Your mouths were on each other in an instant, leaving no room to waste time in front of the four political advisors in the room with the both of you. Tongues flicked out, circling the bland taste of saliva that glossed over the surfaces of pink. It was so uncomfortably hot in the room, it was hard to differentiate whether it was from you and Zuko getting busy, or if it was the intense stares from the four accompanying people inside the chamber.

Zuko licked a deep stripe up the inside of your mouth, grabbing the back of your neck to hold you still into his demanding kiss. Pressing a firm thumb against the crook of your neck, urging your head to the side, leaving hot, wet trails smacking onto the surface of porcelain skin. The way he cradled you in his arms was so dreamy it enhanced the scent of subtle arousal dancing in the air of the room.

A sudden turn in events of Zuko now bending you over the side of the mattress of the bed, growing ravenous by all passing moments of this small gathering. Leaning to hover over your form lying on the mattress below, he stared into one of the male advisors’ eyes whilst swiftly undoing the careless knot in your robes. Your clothes were immediately snatched bare from your helpless body, leaving you to yelp in surprise at the state you were now left in, now a sight for four pairs of wildly unfamiliar eyes.

“You all want to see me fuck her don’t you?”

His suggestive voice alas cut the deathly silent interior of the room, the man in particular shifted around in his breeches, swallowing thickly at his lord’s unprecedented words. Yanking at the back of the latches that fastened your bra together, it slapped back down, leaving a fleeting sting to burn on the surface of your back. He scoffed, pushing you forward with his clothed hips to spur you on the bed completely.

Of course you still wore on your undergarments, the intimate clothing clinging to your frame so endearingly, no doubt in Zuko’s mind that the other four were growing hot in their pants over you. Yeah he could be jealous and petty all he pleased, but these perverts loved tradition and were as passionate about it as anything else. You know they would never, ever, admit how hungry they were for the scene before them to unfold further, fearing their firelord’s judgemental remarks about their dignity. It’s obvious as the sun in the sky on a clear day, but he guessed he could be a little less, mean. Making work of his own clothes by sliding off his own deep red robes off of his broad shoulders, he seems over this whole situation already.

You situated the lower half of your body up in the air for him, assuming the position in front of him on the bed as he undressed. Now he was only covered up by his own pair of pants that contained his painfully hard sex, straining just behind his fly. Taking his index finger, he dragged down your underwear so damningly slow it irked you. Your clit was then sandwiched between his two rugged fingers, stroking steadily in up and down patterns. Zuko took in how very apparent you were when you would grow more and more wet for him, relishing everything that came out of your body by messily massaging your damp pussy then giving it a teasing slap.

“Already? I barely even touched you.”

Those words sent shivers of embarrassment cascading down the longevity of your back. A few breathy sighs from you being rubbed down on your core in between your thighs, leaving you to run your tongue over you lips before going to bite down on the bottom one. He placed his free hand to thumb over your other entrance as he eased his hand around to prep you for his sudden intrusion. It pressed so deliciously on the resistant ring of muscles, it sent every firm press straight down to take effect below.

Small droplets strayed away from your arousal, sounds of wet suctioning from humping along the roughness of his palm urged your eyes backward, flattening out his hand nearly drove you to insanity. Your ears were filled with cotton, even delirium whining out for him to keep going or right there. Body nearly lurching from the intensity of his palm thrusting on it repeatedly, more so perfectly wiping the top of your cunt where the most nerves seemed to reside.

Zuko gave no warning, suddenly grabbing your right shoulder, pressing you down on his experienced pointer fingers without taking any mind to your tightness. Flinging your head up only to meet the heated stares from the four men that advised your husband’s actions, a distressed noise of surprise was eased out in their direction. His fingers curled inside somehow angling accurately on the oozing spot that was the center of your pleasure. Feeling the blunt tips of his finger rutting into you with the help of his left hand levering you back into them by keeping an unwavering hold on the curve in the middle of your shoulder and neck.

Bucking back to counter the precise movements of his fingers made you squirt all over the digits and the sheets, heat flooded over the expanse of your face for growing so needy. Especially in front of the guests present in you two’s shared chamber. Swirls, turns, and spins danced in the base of your convulsing stomach, pulling yourself impossibly tighter to embrace his knuckles within the confines of your greedy pussy. Words fell amidst the chain of incoherent moans that just wouldn’t stay deep inside your chest, not even properly able to register them in the heat of the moment.

“Zuko?” You gasped out, hand flying to find his hand, in an attempt to grab onto something, or some part of his body that could be found within any means of reach. Shoving in another two digits drawed out a foul keen rooted from the depths of your diaphragm. Being so full led you to fall down back forward, pressing your face flush against the crimson sheets to drool out whatever your brain could come up with. Toes curling, body jerking away and struggling from overstimulation, pleas in every type of sound possible. Goodness you were a mess underneath him, you couldn’t even think to compose yourself to have some decorum, but Zuko made it so damn hard. On the crumbling edge of a worthy finish, your eyes snapped open, wild with desperation to find his hand and push him in deeper.

Zuko wasn’t having it, he didn’t like being rushed no matter how much you begged for something deeper or faster; he went at his own set pace. Everything he did had a reason even if he didn’t directly tell you, that’s law for everyone involved with him. Including you. He took your wrist and pinned it down on your back as a warning for moving too fast, a hum of disapproval was met with your hurried actions.

“Stay. There. Don’t get impatient.”

That low warning sent you over the edge, with him burying his digits down to the knuckle to make your finish bubble up and out of her more than stretched out opening. He smoothed his fingers out of you with a small suction noise from her walls bordering him inside securely, moving the four to grip the interior heat of her mouth. You sucked vigorously, lapping and savoring and cleaning every drop of yourself off of his digits longingly.

Easing himself down onto his knees to meet the sight of your gaping pussy from the earlier entry, he began to make out loudly, smacking his lips from kissing your worked lips, and fixating on sucking all of your cum from out of you. You moaned around his fingers, taking in the sweet wet sensation of his tongue hooking and retreating continuously between your folds. He welcomed it to drip from the capacity of his mouth, sliding down from either side of his strong jaw.

Groaning in a mix of adoration and satisfaction from the taste and sopping wet mess on his face, he’d drain everything from inside of you that spewed unashamedly, holding the fluid in his mouth for a moment. Before you could react to his finger being freed from your mouth, a slap landed on the bottom of your ass, startling the men across the room from the filthy spell the two of you put them under. Their hearts beat so hard they all thought it’d come right out of their chests, it was so heated in the room, the smell of sex already settling in their nose before even getting to the real part of all of this.

His eyes caught sight of your bra that was latched onto your body around your upper half after all this time, saliva-slicken hand going to lightly tug the fabric, prompting you to take the clothing item off. A pair of pretty, pedicured hands reached to teasingly undo the latches in a way that’ll test Zuko’s patience, a way to get back at him for not allowing her to be needy herself. They fondled with the back hooks, slowly coming undone for his prying eyes to watch over. The man decided to waste no time with you, ridding himself of his own pants to work towards a mutually pleasing moment.

The slightly taut clothes were removed from his body to fully reveal himself confidently to everyone in the room, and once all of the buckles on your bra were undid, he never snatched something off you faster in his life. In fact, he grabbed you by your neck to force you off of the bed on all fours and positioned his pulsating length just outside your gasping orifice.

Sucking in his cheeks to gather up all of her juices he drank in from her previously, Zuko leaned backwards to intricately spit out the substance over the surface of his cock to easily slip inside of you. Breeching past your loose and slicken up hole, he let a loud groan utter past his lips and into the thickened air of the chamber’s atmosphere. Both of your heaving breaths came together in sync as the both of your bodies met each other at an accelerating pace, every thrust punched out shared pants and curses of all sorts. Sweat trickled across the vastness of each other’s skin, cores burning with an urgency that was unmatched and burned a heat the couple could ever understand.

Going to rest over on his forearm on one side of her body below resting all of his weight in that one arm, he made quick use of the opposing hand to strain around her neck to pull her into a discordant kiss. His mouth nearly went dry at her clenching walls cornering him in inside, Zuko could barely conjure up a petty wad of saliva to share back into her mouth just before parting away from the kiss

Holding her up by keeping a hold on the length of her neck, he shifted impatiently to shove the crest of his dick in to hit the very middle of her stomach cruelly. Your wails wantonly hurt to cry out due to the pressure of his hands on your neck, it was so much all at once you could sob. Not much air came in through your windpipe, maybe once you’d get a good intake of air to support your noises of pure rapture. It never appeared to phase him, the raunchy roll of his hips caused one of the men on the adjacent side of the room to pass out from locking his knees in place. That didn’t seem to phase him either.

Nothing would ever take his gaze away from your red laden eyes, glittering up at him with a quiet beg for some type of mercy on your body. Those lips were parted screaming all of her thoughts, obscenities, his name. Like a chant, he didn’t want to ever stop pleasing you, making you cry, it was his motivation to continue to be your center of ecstasy. The vibrations of her strangled whines went nowhere but straight to his dick, making him twitch violently in the midst of your body he knew best. Better than the back of his hand he knew how to read you, how to ruin you just right for the entertainment of his advisors.

“You’re….you’re gorgeous. You’re all mine- I-.”

He could hardly utter the praise beyond a hoarse whisper, letting your neck loose from his crazed grip. Pulling out immediately made you exhale wholly, releasing the air that rested within your throat, you took advantage of the fact that you now could take a simple breather until he decided what else to do to you.

You were gently pulled up by your elbow, leading you to the front of the bed, enhancing the firelord’s men's view over the vulgar scene unraveling in front of them. She was pulled into his lap, face barely flushed with a red present all over her body, sweat drenched and all of her naked glory. The both of them adjusted into a rather dissolute position, his length now resting once more inside of her cunt, Zuko locked her legs back with the strength of his arms all the way until they were straddling her own upper half. Her entirety was on display to the four men, the two’s connection was undeniable and now formally presented to them.

You could barely take the situation, all of your active thoughts were drained out of you the second you started to squirt uncontrollably. The world spun dizzyingly in your head as Zuko fucked you from underneath, to spread your oozing walls all over him. A pair of soft lips you were so familiar with crashed on the side of your face and trailed down to the crook of your neck, bringing you down from the temporary high created from feeling the crest of what physical euphoria felt like.

He panted loudly at the knots pulling together tighter any time he’d throw his hips up to jolt back into her, stomach clenching hard to keep up his consistent rhythm. That jet black hair of his clung to his forehead, now damp and even mused from the work he put his body through that night.

“Mine, mine, all mine. I promised to fuck her didn’t I?” A rhetorical question restated to himself while his head craned back to display the compelling reddened flesh of his neck. Rough, and gritty his voice happened to be reduced down to, he virtually gave a half-assed whine from bottoming out in his movements just moments leading up to his overloading finish.

Losing yourself to the scent of sex and the renewed humidity of the room, you didn’t realize you and him came at the same time, him doing it so deep, coating the surroundings of his steadily softening shaft, pushing in a few more times before lowering your aching legs down to rest. They felt like complete jelly, nothing could possibly get you to stand up from the events of your honeymoon night.

One of the advisors tried to swallow down a large lump created in his throat, going to speak up in the moment of silence. He bowed for the rest of the group of men, showing his still foregoing respect towards the Firelord and wife, the now declared Firelady.

“The marriage process is now complete, congratulations to the newly wedded royal couple.”

•𑁍•

Tags:

#kinktober 2023 #zuko x reader #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #fanfic #fire lord zuko #zuko smut #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #atla #[𝐧𝐦𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚®]#atla fanfic #not proofread

3K notes · View notes

bryanjamir · 1 year

Text

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Tessad (@tessadofficial)

instagram

http://www.tessad.com

#fashionista #scents #oud #parfum #giftideas #holiday #smellinggood #smallbuisnessowner #smellgood #longevity #mensstyle #followme #Instagram

0 notes

therevdeecee · 2 years

Photo

Received these three scents from @altfragrances after winning their giveaway, and I’m definitely excited! I chose Suit & Tie, Colada, and Icon, which I’ve had my eye on. These do not disappoint! Smelled so good I wore Suit & Tie for the anniversary date with my wife! Responsible, cruelty-free quality scents that smell so good and so close to what they are inspired by you’ll swear you’re wearing the designer but your pockets won’t feel like it! Even picked up three for the wife and she’s loving them! #altfragrances #scents #sillage #longevity #fragrances https://www.instagram.com/p/Cfe7Y0wONG7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#altfragrances #scents #sillage #longevity #fragrances

0 notes

genshin-obsessed · 10 months

Note

May I request HSR boys receiving a bouquet of flowers as a gift from their s/o?

✩ Ooh yesss! This sounds so cute plus I need to do some writing for hsr ^w^ I hope you like it, friend <3 ✩ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Sampo, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade.

You hid the bouquet of flowers behind your back and knocked on your boyfriend's dor. You heard a voice tell you to come in, which made you open the door and walk inside.

"Oh, (y/n)." He said with surprise, "what do you need?"

"I brought you something!" You said with a smile, walking over to him and revealing the bouquet of flowers. They were arranged beautifully and the sweet aroma was intense.

✩⭒ Caelus ⭒✩

You got him flowers?! For real?! He is melting, bestie.

Honestly, his eyes are wide and his cheeks are bright red.

"They're beautiful, (n/n)." He said as he took the bouquet from you, his fingers brushing against yours as he brought the bouquet to his nose and smelled them. "Oh, they smell so good."

Caelus has *never* gotten flowers before, not that he could even remember but he's sure he hasn't. He doesn't even know what to say except 'thank you'.

It makes him feel so good. Every single time he sees the flowers in their cute little vase, his heart pounds in his chest and he just gets this overwhelming feeling of happiness.

Caelus takes such good care of the flowers. The saddest part was when they wilted, like he literally was so sad all day.

You bought him another bouquet very soon after.

✩⭒ Dan Heng ⭒✩

His eyes widen and he just freezes. The flowers were bright green and they were just so... beautiful.

"F-for me...? Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! Why wouldn't I be?" You asked with a smile.

"Well..." He'd never gotten flowers before. He slowly reached out and took them, inhaling the sweet scent before hugging them a little. "They're beautiful, thank you."

Dan Heng takes really good care of them. He'll make sure to get a little sun lamp thing since there's no sun on the train. He also keeps them in his sights and waters them every single day.

He'll even talk to them, but he'll never tell you that.

Honestly, even after the flowers wilt and are gone, he still thinks about them. He'd never gotten flowers before. Of course, you picked up on it and bought him some more!

✩⭒ Welt ⭒✩

He was shocked when he saw the flowers. Honestly, Welt was a little embarrassed because he should've been getting you flowers, not the other way around.

He gracefully takes the flowers, leaning down and giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, my love. They're absolutely beautiful."

Welt finds the most beautiful vase for them and makes sure they're well taken care of. He even gets those little powder packets that help flower longevity and changes the water often.

When he gets a chance, he actually get you a bouquet of flowers too. He tries to get one that matches his- not exactly, but complimentary.

Honestly, it just turns into a bouquet war. You two try to one up each other giving each other even fancier bouquets.

The entire astral express just swoons. You two are so freaking cute sometimes.

Welt was actually really sad when that first bouquet wilted and had to be tossed out. He felt like a teeny piece of him died.

✩⭒ Sampo ⭒✩

First of all, Sampo was super shocked because he's usually the one showering you in gifts. Like he froze up.

His brain short-circuited right then and there. You almost thought he disliked your gift, but before you knew it, he snatched the flowers out of your hand and hugged them.

"This is the most beautiful gift ever! I love them, thank you so much (n/n)!" He leaned in and kissed you without missing a beat.

You stiffened but happily returned it, feeling relief that he actually liked the flowers.

Honestly, Sampo stares at them all day and tells every person he knows. He took pictures with them and just shows them off. "My s/o got me these, aren't they beautiful."

Sampo has to outdo you. Sorry, but he's the simp- not you. So, he buys the best, the biggest, the most fabulous bouquet of flowers in the entirety of... well his abilities.

Of course, you just bought him another bouquet which honestly just took him out. Like how can you spoil him like that?

✩⭒ Gepard ⭒✩

"F-for me? Why?" Gepard's face is bright red and he can barely look at you for a moment. No one's every gotten him flowers before.

Honestly, he's a little embarrassed but he's quite happy and the flowers are absolutely beautiful.

"Are you sure you like them? They're a little-"

"No! They're beautiful."

He takes extremely good care of them, but the entire time, he's trying to get a fancy bouquet for you too.

He tells anyone and everyone. Honestly, there are silvermane guards talking about "did you see the bouquet of flowers our captain got from his partner?"

He went through the 5 stages of grief when the flowers died. Buried them and all, honestly.

✩⭒ Jing Yuan ⭒✩

You had gotten him the fanciest bouquet you could. It was so big that you could barely hide it behind your back. So, of course, he easily noticed.

It was probably one of the few times you've seen him so flustered. Flowers? For him? Really?

Jing Yuan had them in his office and stared at them pretty much all day. Anyone who even looked toward them, he was explaining how you got them for him.

Of course, Jing Yuan can't take this gift laying down, he's gotta hit back with something even fancier!

However, you getting him flowers means the world to him. Why? No one's ever done it before. He's one of the seven Arbiter-Generals and so people don't get him flowers. They get him expensive gifts like relics, vases, paintings- things like that. Simple flowers, though? Never.

He cherishes the flowers you got them, long after they wilt and are thrown away. He still remembers what they look like and it still warms his heart.

Say what you will, but nothing you ever give him could possibly outdo the flowers. That's how much he loves them. No offense-

✩⭒ Luocha ⭒✩

This man- he's tearing up in private. Sadly, men aren't gifted flowers because they're a "feminine" gift for some damn reason? Like? Maybe he wanted some flowers. Tulips, roses, freakin chrysanthemums- don't matter.

He adores the flowers. Honestly, like he took a picture and put it in his favorites. He wasn't even embarrassed. You weren't sure if he'd like them, but he showed them off so much.

Since that day, you bought him a flower as much as you could. Not a whole bouquet, but every few days, you'd gift Luocha a flower.

He often kept it on his person, like in his pocket or something. He did want to put it in a vase, but the thing is... he wanted it with him.

Anyway, he came up with good solution. The first day, he carries the flower with him. Then, he keeps it in a teeny single flower vase.

Ever since that day, if you ever ask Luocha what he wants as a gift (just to know what to get him), he'll always say flowers. Even though you get him flowers every few days, he still wants more.

At this point, you can just stick a flower in his hair and he'll melt.

✩⭒ Blade ⭒✩

Blade... likes them.

He's a man of few words, so all he really did was take the flowers and smell them. But he stared for a few moments, before the tiniest hint of a smile crossed his face.

"Thank you. They're beautiful." He leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek before going to find a vase to put them in.

Blade is not shy about telling the others who gave him those flowers. They're beautiful, you gave them to him, and he loves them.

Blade actually learned about the flowers you got him; they were hibiscus flowers. Honestly, they're so beautiful, he can't stop staring. He keeps equating them to you- like... flowers = his (y/n).

The way his heart fluttered when you gave him those flowers makes him wonder if you'll feel the same way. So, the next time, he buys you a bouquet.

Then it just turns into a bouquet gifting war between you two and honestly... it's the cutest ever.

#honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr blade x reader #welt x reader #hsr sampo x reader #gepard x reader #luocha x reader #hsr caelus x reader #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail fluff

981 notes · View notes

dear-ao3 · 3 months

Note

hey since yall are cologne experts (or one of u is idk) what cologne do you recommend to confuse ppl abt my gender

I need a scent that is feminine AND masculine all at once

aright so i am not a cologne expert whatsoever (not sure where you got that one from honestly) but i do happen to have a friend who works at a perfume store and when i asked her to weigh in her opinion on this she was absolutely delighted and wrote you all a novel on how to choose the right fragrance

(very fair warning, this is quite long)

Lessons in Fragrance (by Roza, Saph’s friend)

Buckle up buttercups because I’m about to learn you a thing or two about scent! I used to work at one of the largest “niche” perfumeries in the New England area so I’m like kinda qualified to give advice on fragrance I guess lol

1.scents will smell different on skin than on tester papers due to the fragrance interacting with your body chemistry so something you like on paper you might not like on your skin and vice versa! It’s always important to test on your skin before you buy, most websites that sell fragrance will sell a sample size for a few bucks or even a sample set for $20-$60 depending on how many samples and how high end the brand is!

2. At the end of the day fragrance (how many times will I say this word probably at least 50) is gender neutral. Cologne versus perfume (or aux de parfum) just denotes how strong the scent will be and how long it will last. The order of weakest to strongest is: aux de toilette, room sprays, linen sprays Essential oil fragrances Cologne Perfume, aux de parfum

3. there are many types of fragrances some examples of overarching categories are: gourmand: smells like food in some way Fougére: “traditionally masculine” Floral: predominantly flower notes Green: outdoorsy but more grassy and earth based Woodsy: outdoorsy but more tree and wood based Aquatic: notes that create scents reminiscent of bodies of water, ambergris is a common note Oriental: earthy, musky, and warmer notes usually having some sort of amber note Spicy: having heavy spice notes wheather it be peppery or your traditional baking spices These are just some of the most common categories of fragrance.

4. additional to categories, fragrance is further broken down into different sizes and different note tiers with each having its own wear time: you have your top notes, heart notes, and base notes. True to name top notes are the notes of scent you first smell. As the fragrance starts to settle the heart notes will become more prominent as the top notes fade. The base notes have the most longevity and will usually be the hints that you can smell even several hours later.

Sizes: tester sizes tend to be 2-5mL of product. The 4 most common denominations that fragrance come in are a 10-15mL (travel size), 30-35mL (smaller side but still decent amount), 50-60mL (pretty standard size and good amount), 100mL (“full size” and will last a hot sec) Based on personal experience: I’ve had a 30mL fragrance that I wear daily last for about 2 months, I have an 88mL that I wear about once a week that has lasted a year and a half (with 3/4 of a bottle still left), I have 10mL travel sizes that last about 2-3 weeks with daily wear, I have a 50mL that I wear weekly and on occasion use as a room spray too that’s lasted about a year (still have 1/4 bottle left). When talking about wearing the fragrance is talking about one spray per wrist, then tapping them together (NOT rubbing) to help distribute the scent. Sometimes I add an additional spray on my neck. There is never a reason to spray fragrance on your full body b/c it can then become to overwhelming and you’ll be a walking hazard to society (think a 12 yo boy with axe body spray). On occasion if you know it will be a sexy night a spray of fragrance on the ankle can go a long way especially if your legs will be hooked around someone’s head.

5. now without further ado below are Roza’s recs for gender confusing fragrances. I will include the name of the fragrence and line/company, some of the notes, and price point! disclaimer: I am only really familiar with niche fragrances not mainstream or “drugstore”, “department store”, “your typical designer” fragrances

The Recommendations:

My recs: I can’t grantee the spelling on all of these but c’est la vive, the listings are as follows: name of fragrance, line (if applicable), company, maybe a fun fact about the company or scent, description of notes and/or story of how to describe the scent, price point with size of bottle

supernatural #6: by Caswell Massey the oldest American perfume company, was a fragrance worn by George Washington, it is a very clean herbaceous scent (yk to cover up the stench of the unbathed in colonial times since the scent was created in 1772), it has main notes of bergamot (that earl grey tea kind of floral scent) rosemary, neroli, rose, clove and amber, very musky, $40 for a 7.5mL travel size or $225 for a 100mL, also comes in soap form.

LX48: also Caswell Massey, smells like leather chairs and pipe tobacco with hints of florals reminiscent of an old school gentleman’s club, notes of violet, geranium, oakmoss (one of my fav notes across the board), tobacco, cedar wood, and vintage leather, same price points for 7.5mL and 100mL as Supernatural #6, comes in soap form as well.

Beaver: Beaver-Bee are all from the same Canadian line called zoologist which conceptualize their fragrances after the stunning cover art to encapsulate what each animal would wear as a fragrance taking inspiration from their habitats, smells like moist earth and a light breeze carrying greens and florals. Notes of outdoor air, linden blossom, wood shavings, wild vegetation, damp air, dry wood, water, light musk, heavy musk, dark woods, vanilla, amber, castoreum, and leather, pricing the same for Beaver, Snowy Owl, Sloth, and Squid tester for $8, 10mL for $48, and 60mL for $175

Snowy Owl: zoologist, smells like the transition from winter to spring as the snow melts and mud season begins as light florals start to fight their way to the surface, notes of snow accord, lily of the valley, mint, coconut, Turkish rose, frankincense, galbanum, ambrette, cedar, tonka, vanilla, oakmoss, civet, and musk

Squid: zoologist, smells like an inky Black Sea thrashing about in a storm until you reach the calm black depths, notes of pink peppercorn, solar salicylate, incense, black ink accord, opoponax, ambergris, and benzoin musk

Sloth: zoologist, smells like a Victorian apothecary with wooden shelves a plenty mayhaps even thatched awnings overhanging the front windows ripe with scents of various herbs, florals, tinctures, potions and oils a delicate and peculiar balance, notes of chamomile, açaí berry, lavender, violet leaf, marigold (also known as calendula), beeswax, anise, jatamansi, jasmine, cumin, hay, frankincense, myrrh, mushroom, oakmoss, vanilla, tonka

Bee: zoologist, fragrant blossoms that play beautifully with fruity undertones to create a rich and mead like scent, notes of orange, ginger syrup, royal jelly accord, broom, heliotrope, mimosa, orange flower, benzoin, labdanum, musks, sandalwood, tonka, vanilla, sample $8, 10mL travel size $59, 60mL $210

Blackbird: Olympic Orchids, this is my personal favorite scent to the point that I consider it my signature, to me it smells like an ancient forest witch coming out to dance amongst the moonlight a pungent earthy smell full of ripe blackberries, damp cedar and oakmoss to complete the alluring scent, notes of blackberry, dry grass, dry leaves, elemi, cedar wood, resin, woody amber according to, for balsam absolute, and musk, pricing is the same for blackbird the California chocolate and woodcut, sample $3, 5mL $18, 15mL $35, 30mL $65, 100mL $120

California chocolate: Olympic orchids, a fruity chocolate fragrance to encapsulate California, notes of wild orange, grapefruit, yuzu, white cognac, neroli, dark chocolate, patchouli, gourmand musk, bourbon vanilla

Woodcut: Olympic orchids, smells like walking into a scene shop with fresh cut wood or even a cedar closet, notes of fractional distillation of pine and cedar, oak wood, roll balsam, olibanum, caramel, burnt sugar, vanilla

902: bon perfumer, a French company that makes 3 note fragrances perfect for layering with each other a scent you already own or just a subtle fragrance that can stand alone, this one is described as what the peaky blinders would’ve worn, notes of white tobacco, cinnamon and brandy (armagnac), 30mL $60, 100mL $120, 100mL + 15mL set $140

Noir tropical, Maria candida Gentile, smells like an expensive drink at a beachside resort in Italy, notes of bergamot, almond accord, heliotrope, vanilla accord, bourbon, and rum, 7mL 20€ ($21.56), 15mL 37€ ($39.88), and 100mL 155€ ($167.08), also comes in liquid and bar soap form, and a set with the 15mL the candle and the soap

Finisterre, Maria candida gentile, it smells like a breeze on the ocean filled with ambient damp sand and slight citrusy notes caught on the wind from fellow beach goers snacking on fresh fruit, notes of marine accord, wet wood, helichrysum, pine, grey amber, sandalwood, same prices as noir tropical

Plum in cognac, scents of wood, the bottles (for the full size) look like anatomically correct hearts and the colors are customizable when you order, this smells sensual and proactive with its sweet and smoky depth with a realm of familiarity to bring comfort, notes of caramel, tobacco, cinnamon, nutmeg, juicy plum, vanilla, vetiver, aged in a cognac barrel (made with sugar cane alcohol so it absorbs some of the scent notes of the wooden barrel it’s aged in), 10mL $55, 75mL $240

Bulletproof, Margot Elena, TokyoMilk dark line, this reminds me of what a pirate could smell like, notes of smoked tea, coconut milk, crush cedar, and ebony woods, 45mL $52 one size only

Eclipse, Margot Elena, TokyoMilk dark line, smells like a unique mix of spices and florals as mysterious and ever changing as the solar and lunar cycles, notes if black anise, mint leaf, smoked amber, and gardenia, 45mL $52 one size only

Nocturnal, Margot Elena, TokyoMilk dark line, smells like a walk through the woods on a crisp early spring evening, notes of cypress, dark patchouli, vetiver, and night musk, 45mL $52 only one size

Wild whims, Margot Elena, TokyoMilk, smells like wanderlust and wild abandon frolicking through fields in the summer sun, bites of sweet grass, clary sage, verdant (very green smelling) florals, and citron, 30mL $48 one size only, this one layers especially well with green spell!! Most of TokyoMilk can be blended with other fragrances b/c they’re are 4 note fragrances similar to bon perfumer in that sense

Green spell, Eris Parfums, an alluring garden full of specimens for all over the world cultivated with care and just a touch of magic and whimsy, notes of Italian mandarin, French black currant bud absolute, Iranian galbanum, Egyptian violet leaf absolute, French narcissus absolute, tomato leaf accord, fig leaf accord, Haitian vetiver, Ambroxan, and musk, 50mL $165 one size only

Spezie De’ Medici, i profumi di firenze, spezierie palazzo vecchio, this is a very old fragrance line dating back to Italy even before the famed Catherine Di Medici there are whispers that she even wore a few of these fragrances, smells like a warm hug from loved ones in your life as you all bake spice cookies for the holidays, notes of orange, lemon, cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, ginger, pink pepper, black pepper, 50mL 46€ ($49.59)

L’uomo di pitti, i profumi di firenze, spezierie palazzo vecchio, an outdoor market in Florence Italy filled with the latest fashions from visitors and importers all of the world with deeply aquatic and herbaceous hints, notes of pink pepper, iris, amber furan, ambergris, labdanum, sage, and rhubarb, 50mL 48€ ($51.74)

Bulls blood, imaginary authors, they create stories of fragrance from books that don’t exist each package (full size) is made to look like said book that doesn’t exist, smells like the perfect balance of brutality and elegance a scent for the lovers and brawlers deeply bold, animalic, and sensuous, notes of geranium, Spanish rose, patchouli, black musk, tobacco, sandalwood, and bull’s blood, sample $6, 14mL travel $42, 50mL $105

Every storm a serenade, imaginary authors, smells like the eye of the storm a day full of moody and choppy waters finally sailing into a brief moment of stillness to absorb the environment, notes of danish spruce, eucalyptus, vetiver, calone, ambergris, and Baltic Sea mist, same pricing as bull’s blood

Musc, Molinard, a French perfume company founded in 1849 with many fragrances full of notes that end up encapsulating one feeling, note, or moment, smells warm, woody, amber heavy musk, notes of muscade nois, bergamot, juniper berries, incense, patchouli, teak wood, musk, amber, and labdanum, 7.5mL 11.67€ ($12.58), 75mL 57.50€ ($61.98)

The Original, Eight & Bob, this fragrance was worn by a young JFK who discovered it through a young man and his family he met while on vacation in the French Riviera, a very classic clean fragrance that can lean on the side of aftershave-esque, notes of cardamom, lemon, pink peppercorn, dried woods, violet leaves, labdanum, evergreen wood, amber, sandalwood, and vetiver, 30mL 80€ ($86.24), 50mL 120€ ($129.36), 100mL 190€ ($204.81), 150mL 210€ ($226.37)

Winter nights, Dasein, comes in a line that is meant to smell like the different stages of winter there is also one for greens and the daytime, smells like a fire pit with friends in late January as the snow has started to pile up but on a blissful day where it is warm enough to go outside a gathering occurs with the rich smell of pine all around, notes of coastal forest, driftwood bonfire, cardamom tea, lavender flowers, wild musk, and woodsmoke, 50mL $125

Almost single, Confessions of a rebel, this is a collection known for making provocative and sexy fragrances with cheeky names, a hazy spicy scent tempered by woody florals, notes of black pepper, cardamom, iris, rosemary, and sandalwood, 8mL $28, 100mL $125 Ray-flection, masque Milano, opera line, an avant garde what would a flower from an alien planet smell like, notes of mandarin essence, sparkling aldehydes, cardamom pure jungle essence, mimosa absolute France, violette leaves absolute, solar rays accord, beeswax absolute, cedar wood essence, and musk accord, tester 6€ ($6.47), 10mL 46€ ($49.59), 35mL 133€ ($143.37)

White whale, masque Milano, opera line, a nod to the novel Moby Dick an adventure for any sea fairer, notes of candles, olibanum, salty rope accordion, black pepper Madagascar, ambergris accord, osmanthus china, violet flower, orris concrete Italy, cedar wood Virginia, patchouli Indonesia, vetiver Haiti, cistus laudanum, tester 7€ ($7.55), 10mL 49€ ($52.82), 35mL 151€ ($162.77)

Lost Alice, masque Milano, opera line, the tales of Alice in wonderland captured via scent in different stages of tea with the mad hatter, notes of bergamot, ambrette seed, clary sage, “Too Much Black Pepper”, carrot heart, Oreos concrete, English tea, white roses (painted red), sandalwood India, broom absolute Italy, and Fleur de lait (steamed milk accord), same pricing as ray-flection although lost alive does have a 100mL option too for 379€ ($408.55)

Pale fire, apoteker tepe, smells like a rich and slightly drunken hot cocoa after coming in from taking the leaves on a blustery fall day, notes of amber, olibanum, palmers, whiskey, and cocoa, sample $8, 6mL $20, 35mL $130, 105mL $280

The holy mountain, apoteker tepe, this is what I imagine the misty mountains to smell like to the point of almost being able to hear singing around a hearth in the background, notes of pine smoke, incense, balsam fir, labdanum, and guaiacwood, same pricing as Pale Fire

After the flood, apoteker tepe, true to the name it smells like the damp earth that’s still waterlogged after immense amounts of rain, notes of violet leaf, water lily, mushroom, patchouli, and wet earth, same pricing as the other two apoteker tepe

Le castiglione, jovoy Paris, from Les cocottes de Paris, another one of my personal favorites that I wear quite often, has been described as smelling like Dracula’s mistress based on a rumor started in the early to mid 19th century surrounding a model who (was described as the world’s vainest woman) once she “got old” (all of 40) she would only leave her house at night and donning all black and the rumors flew leaving behind only whispers and whiffs of this scent as she would walk by, a fragrance that is both earthy and citrusy, with an almost apothecary feel to it that keeps you sniffing the sample trying to figure out what it reminds you of, notes of mugwort, citron, juniper, licorice, patchouli, grey amber, myrrh, and styrax, sample $3, 50mL 75€ ($80.85)

After hours, antica farmacista, smells like sipping on a berry filled night cap paired with a fresh crème brûlée to enjoy in your favorite leather chair by fireside in an old family library, notes if blackberry, cocoa, tobacco, davana, black rose, single malt bourbon, cognac, oud, leather, crème brûlée vanilla, and amber, 10mL travel $22, 50mL $86

Late harvest, fort manle, the packing is really cool and the scents come in bottle that look like vintage ink bottle topped with an ornate golden cap that would work as a wax seal in a pinch, smells how I imagine an older bilbo baggins to smell like while relaxing in the shire smoking his pipe, notes of cherry pipe tobacco, vanilla, cedar wood, rosewood, leather, and rose, sample $10, 50mL $250, it’s pricy but the wear time is insane (I’ve tested it before and had it still smell fairly strong the next day even after showering)

Bojnokopff, fort manle, the story behind this is the famed Russian magician Bojnokopff (idk if he’s actually real tho lol) performing in 1897 St. Petersburg the closing act of his final show before retirement and to amaze the masses he disappears into a cloud of purple haze leaving behind only whiffs of lavender, oud, and chocolate this is a very dark and punchy scent (I find that people either love it or hate it with no inbetween), notes of French lavender, vanilla, dark chocolate, oud, and cedar wood, sample $10, 50mL $250 there is also a discovery set of the entire fort manle line that is $70 for a sample size of 7/8 of their fragrances

Uomo, carthusia, smells like the hot Italian partner you can’t take home to your family who rides a motorcycle while wearing a tank top with a leather jacket while smoking, notes of lemon, bergamot, freesia, green leaves, lily of the valley, jasmine, geranium, cedar wood, patchouli, sandal, palmers, amber, white musk, 50mL 70€ ($75.46), 100mL 90€ ($97.02)

Terra Mia, carthusia, smells like a coffee shop right before open there are notes of citrus roasted nuts and coffee in the air along with the smell of light florals that grace each seating area, notes of bergamot, neroli, pink peppercorn, rose, jasmine, orange blossom, Arabic coffee, hazelnut cream, amber woods, vanilla, ambroxan, and white musk, same pricing as uomo

Mediterrano, carthusia, a bright and sunny fragrance with notes of green tea, notes of wild mint, lemon, eucalyptus, litsea cubeba, red thyme, bergamot, jasmine, cardamom, flowers of the fields, tangerine, green tea, and white musk, same pricing as terra Mia and uomo

Broken Theories, Kerosene, the packaging is cool seeing as it is a nod to the city the fragrance is created in (Detroit) each bottle is painted in motorcycle paint and the metal label is hand stamped, it smells like a fire pit while drinking a spiced mimosa, notes of blood orange, tobacco, spices, vanilla, sandalwood, our, and incense, it’s a heavy but not overwhelming scent that covers you like a blanket and can last several hours without needing to reapply, 100mL $152

Meltdown, elder & willow, these last two are roll on essential oil fragrances that are very budget friendly, this one is meant to calm anxiety and help with grounding, bites of lavender, lemon, ylang ylang, bergamot, rose geranium, vetiver, Roman chamomile, benzoin essential oils, and scent is all in a coconut oil as the carrier, $12 per 10mL roll on

Sweet dreams, elder & willow, meant to promote sleep, notes if lavender, vetiver, Roman chamomile, cedar wood, benzoin essential oils, scent is in coconut oil as the carrier, $12 per 10mL roll on, I love elder and willow they also have teas, bath soaks, and skincare products

And thus concludes fragrance lessons/recs with Roza! I hope this was more informative and less of a fever dream than perfume ads on screen that don’t actually tell you anything about the fucking fragrance and just go off of vibes and celebrity presence!!

#not a tag #from saph #perfume #fragrance #fragrance recs

313 notes · View notes

matchavellichor · 8 months

Text

Just This Once Pt. 3

dark!Ominis x f!MC - NSFW - 3.1k words - ao3

A/N: final part!! left it a bit vague/open-ended but i hope the sneaky mc is implied enough 🫣

Tags: Pining, Requited Love, Obsession, Slight Somnophilia, Thigh Riding

Part 1, Part 2

Ominis stirs to a warm body curled against his, her face tucked into the crook of his neck, soft breathing sending little shivers of pleasure where it puffs against his skin. Maybe he’s died and gone to heaven. Considering everything he’s done, he quickly dismisses the possibility.

Realization steadily dawns on him on who exactly he’s holding and his arms tighten instinctively around her waist, as if he can somehow defy the laws of physics and mold her figure with his own. Her smell is all over him, a dizzying and intoxicating aroma, and he buries his nose in the crown of her head, inhaling deeply and praying her scent will forever be impregnated on his sheets.

He hopes it’ll be a while before she wakes.

He contemplates the longevity of the dose he’d given her last night as his hand trails up her arm, tracing smooth planes he’s far too familiar with by now. That usual pounding in his chest awakens with the contact, almost like clockwork, sounding deafeningly in his ears as he takes his time exploring. His heart is in his throat by the time he dips his finger under silk ever so slightly, slips the thin little strap of her negligee down her shoulder. Something inside him tells him he shouldn’t, but his brain hasn’t woken up enough to pay any heed to its warnings.

His fingers dust over exposed, sleep-warm skin and he revels in its softness, a sensation that fills him with the strange desire to ruin. To bite, and mark, and take, to make his. These urges don’t faze him anymore at this point, and he’s long accepted his own fallibility by the first time he’d had his hands all over her. Denying it any longer would be absurd, even for someone as delusional as him.

Before he can consider it properly, he tilts his chin down and presses his lips to the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulder, imagining this is something he has some sort of right to wake up to every day, some right to wake her up to. She’s so devastatingly warm, and he earns a surge of adrenaline from the feeling of her pulse pressed right against his mouth, almost beating in synchrony with his own.

She doesn’t stir as he trails up her neck with feather-light kisses, but something else does, a far too recognizable sensation. That familiar aching fire he feels in his gut, that seeps down lower and lower towards his groin, sears his very nerves and courses red-hot heat through his blood. He used to feel some level of revulsion, self-reproach, shame. Now all he can feel is how perfect she is pressed so tightly against him, too overwhelming to preoccupy himself with any other thoughts.

His tongue dips out to lick a stripe under her jaw, but he only tastes her briefly before he stops himself. He’s so achingly hard in his trousers already. He should be embarrassed—he would if he had even the slightest sense of shame. He doesn’t.

The only thing stopping him from unsheathing himself, indulging, slick and warm in his own fist, is the thought that she could wake at any time. Even then, it’s only faulty hesitations that stop him, waning and flimsy in the face of his overwhelming desire.

He lets his cheek press to the top of her head and closes his eyes, focusing on her soft breathing against the underside of his jaw, trying to gain some level of self-restraint. It’s like she was made to exhaust every last shred of it.

Some sick part of him is tempted to dose her with more of the potion lying on his bedside table. Pry her mouth open and keep her pliant for him for a few more hours. He could have his way with her again, stretch this blissful moment out as long as possible.

Rationally, he knows he can’t. Reason steadily seeps into his infatuated brain and dismisses any fantasies he has of holding her all day, touching and caressing, and taking advantage, to the fullest, sickest extent of the word. He knows that their friendship dangles over a precipice by a thread at the moment, that any moment she’ll wake and realize where she is and what he’s done to her, and she’ll be repulsed by him.

The thought makes his chest tighten, douses him in a bucket of cold water and finally pushes him to carefully, reluctantly, disentangle his body from hers and pull away. The loss of her warmth is like a knife being driven into his chest, but almost immediately after he unwraps his arms from her waist, she wakes, blinking drowsily at him in the dimly-lit room.

“Ominis?” His name on her tongue is quiet and sleep-rough, and the sound only serves to worsen the tender wound in his heart, making the urge to pull her back into his arms almost unbearable.

He clears his throat, his chest pounding as he scrambles for an excuse after clearly having been so close to her. “Sorry, I’m–I’m sorry, I was just—”

“Will you come back to bed?”

He stills. He has half a mind to imagine he’s misheard her, or that she’s still under the influence to request such a thing. When she doesn’t get a response she sinks back against the pillows, shifting towards the edge of the bed and patting the open space beside her.

“Please?”

His body moves of its own accord before he can properly rationalize any part of this. She’s obviously not in any right state of mind—she can’t be. She’ll be disgusted with him as soon as she comes to her senses. He can’t fathom being wanted, not like this, much less by her. Despite these thoughts, he climbs under the covers beside her, his heart stuttering in his chest when she immediately tucks herself into his side, cheek pressed against his shoulder.

He goes rigid as a board. The notion that he’s died and gone to heaven suddenly seems more plausible again, even if all parts of him imagine the notion absurd. There’s no part of him that doubts that the figure snuggled around him is anything less than an angel, however.

He hesitantly pulls one of his arms over her body, holding her, but not in the way he truly wants to. He restrains himself, even if his willpower feels bent to the brink of snapping with how warm and soft she feels.

“Is–Is this alright?” He asks, something he’s admittedly unaccustomed to doing. The words sound foreign in his mouth.

She nods against his skin, soft hair tickling the underside of his jaw. “You can touch me,” she murmurs, voice small as if she’s admitting to a secret. “I like it when you do.”

She sounds so sincere. It rips Ominis apart.

Those simple little words are enough to knock all the air out of his lungs, devastating —in all the good ways the word can be. He presses his nose to her temple so his next inhale will be nothing but her, wanting his lungs filled, hoping she’ll occupy every single cavity. He doesn’t know what to do with so much unrestrained permission to touch. Hesitantly, inevitably, he indulges.

Her skin feels novel under his fingertips as he ponders the incredulous reality that the reason he’s holding her is because she asked him to, and not because he’s forced his will again. Any exhilaration he’s felt exploring her before is incomparable to the sensation he feels with the simple brush of his thumb over her collarbone knowing she actually welcomes his eager hands.

He isn’t sure what he’s ever done to deserve this.

He’s absolutely certain of all the things he’s done to never be even the smallest fraction worthy, however, and the sudden feeling of guilt begins to encroach on the bliss he should feel in the moment. Her chest pressed against his, her breathing ghosting his cheek, it slips him back to all the ways he’s violated her trust. Taken from her what she now gives him so willingly.

He should confess. He should be honest with her about everything, if he wants even the slightest chance at redeeming himself. He should—

His brain whites out when she shifts to hitch a leg over his waist, and he suddenly becomes acutely aware of just how bare she is underneath her chemise, pressed right against his thigh. What was it he should be doing again?

His heart skips a few beats, and then a couple more, and then his hands are flying to meet her waist, to stop her from doing any more adjusting and sending him to a much-too-early grave via cardiac arrest.

Did he not put her knickers back on her last night? How could he be such a fool? Does she realize? She must, he posits. Yet, miraculously, she hasn’t said a word. Hasn’t made a single comment about her bareness. In fact, she seems perfectly content, blissfully comfortable as she stretches her body out over his, infuriatingly unaware of how terribly she’s ruining him.

Ominis’ thoughts of doing the right thing, of redemption and conciliation, of treating the precious thing in his arms the way she deserves to be treated, disintegrates along with the last vestiges of his self-restraint. He trails a hand over the thigh bracketed over his hips, and rests it there, still and neutral, and very much not taking advantage, he tells himself.

But then she sighs, a gratified little sound, and he shatters.

He lets his palm drag over her skin, lower and lower towards her knee before making its journey back up, stroking tenderly, tracing every contour with his thumb. He lets his other hand rub comforting circles on her back, basking in the warmth that seeps through the silk of her gown. A smile tugs at his lips at the quiet hum of approval she gives him, making him feel all more justified in his decision to touch.

“Feels nice,” she murmurs, voice still drowsy, just the way he likes her.

“You feel nice,” he confesses.

He doesn’t ask for permission when he drags his hands higher up her thigh, thumb brushing over the dip of her hipbone, peeking under satiny silk. She doesn’t protest, almost as if she’s used to him not asking by now.

“Always feel so nice,” he murmurs aimlessly before he can stop himself, words drenched in admiration. “So soft. Never felt anything so soft”

He lets his hands drag higher, under, her breath hitching from the contact, a little gasp let out where she tries to hide her face against his neck. So shy. He wonders if she’d be so demure if she knew how eagerly he’d already explored all those intimate parts of her, both with his lips and with his fingers.

His palms find purchase on either side of her hips and he barely has to apply any pressure before she’s shifting on her own accord, pressing herself against his thigh, her body seeking him out even if her brain hasn’t caught up to the notion yet. He intakes a sharp breath and exhales a curse against her shoulder.

She stills, as if she isn’t currently straddling his leg, as if her nails aren’t leaving little red crescents on his forearm, and her traitorous breathing isn’t revealing everything she feels at the moment.

He knows what she needs, and gets a strange thrill out of being able to give it to her, even if she doesn’t know how to ask quite yet. Lucky for her, he’s very good at taking without asking.

He only needs to apply a little pressure for her hips to move. Just a tiny push, a barely-there nudge for her perfect body to grind right up against him, bare mound rubbing against the soft cotton of his trousers. Her cheek is searing where it’s pressed against his shoulder, chin tucked at his collarbones, shame painting her face a pretty red.

“It’s alright,” he reassures, voice low and tender as if he’s soothing a startled animal. As if he might break her out of the spell he finds her in. “You’re okay. Just let me take care of you. You don’t have to do a thing, angel.”

She doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t need her to. He plants a kiss to the top of her head and slowly guides her movements, little stuttered rolls of her hips against his, an excruciatingly languid pace, but he’s never had more patience in the world. She rocks herself against his thigh until there’s a wet spot on his pants, the realization making his entire world tilt left and his head spin.

He has her. Actually has her. Grinding on his lap, muffling pleas against his skin, soaking through the material of his trousers. There’s a surreality to the entire thing that guides all of his actions, makes him more unabashed, his fingers digging into her hips and paying no mind to any marks he might leave.

He seeks his own pleasure as he helps her seek hers, fixates on all the ways he can make her toes curl against his calves, where that sensitive little part of her catches on something punishing and she keens.

“Just like that,” he encourages, voice hoarse, a burning that only comes from true, unashamed passion. The slightest hint of mirth bleeds through his tone, depravely satisfied. “You like this, don’t you?”

She shakes her head, still playing coy. He finds he likes it when she pretends.

“You do,” he whispers, lips pressed to the shell of her ear. “You think I can’t feel how much of a mess you’re making on my trousers, hm?”

Her response is a stifled cry, body shuddering under his compelling hands, clinging to every praise he whispers in her ear. He’s never felt so unashamed before, so disgustingly bold, drunk on the arousal he feels from her lithe body humping his.

“You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?” He asks, teeth scraping at the sensitive lobe of her ear, dragging down her skin until she whines. “My sweet, sweet girl. I’ve wanted you, too. Wanted you for so long.”

She unburies her face from his neck, cheeks flushed a crimson hue, stray hairs sticking to her temples. He can’t see her, but her stuttered breathing against his lips is all he needs to know she’s a mess.

He wants to reach out, cup her face, stroke her skin, but she doesn’t grant him the opportunity. In the very next moment, she’s surging forward to capture his lips in hers, desperate and urgent and wholly unashamed. He groans into her mouth, an almost tortured sound that her lips rip easily from the back of his throat.

This kiss is different.

Far better than anything he could ever have experienced before, any reciprocation that the Imperius could hope to replicate, any softness he could strive to receive from her sleeping form.

This kiss is enough to destroy him, leave him gutted and flayed open, and evidently it’s enough to do the same to her, as she’s pushed almost immediately over the edge of ecstasy.

Her whole body tenses, perfect and rigid yet somehow still so unbelievably malleable against his, a delicious contradiction. He swallows every last moan she lets out against his lips, every hitching gasp and strangled whimper. Her fingers curl into the front of his shirt for support, and his hands never leave her hips as he guides her through her high, in the same fashion his mouth never disconnects from hers.

Only when she manages to grow even pinker in the face, lungs burning and chest heaving against his, do they finally break, hot and heavy pants puffing against swollen, kiss-bruised lips. Ominis feels he might faint.

Miraculously, he only lets his head fall back against the pillow as he tries to gain some level of motor coordination. She huffs a soft, pleasure-drunk laugh against his cheek, mumbles something he can’t quite hear over the ringing in his ears.

Only when she finally moves, shifting over his body to a more comfortable position, does awareness flood back into him. Slowly, she pulls herself from his limp-muscled body, unslots herself from his now cum-slick leg. Ominis mourns the loss of the wet-hot heat of her, but she quickly rectifies it with a kiss against his cheek and her arms clinging tight around his waist.

“You’re perfect,” she whispers, voice quiet but far from meek when she says it. It sounds almost like forgiveness, but he can’t begin to fathom the meaning behind it in the state he’s in.

He feels too drunk on sheer euphoria, an involuntary smile pulling at his lips. He’s shared something beautiful with her, something good for once. Something he thought he was incapable of for the longest time. Overwhelmed by the feeling that all he can do is destroy, hurt, ruin.

There’s still that contrite voice in his head, but it's soothed now, a mere whisper, acquiesced by some strange sense of absolution he’s received from her. The itch to say something, to confess, to ask for forgiveness is there, but it’s faint. Bearable.

“I’ll never hurt you,” he says in place of an admission, a promise more to himself than to her. He leaves out the again even though the word rings slightly in his ears. Guilt is an easy thing to ignore when you have the object of all of your desires swaddled in your arms. “I swear it to you.”

She pulls back to study him for a beat, the slightest hint of knowing behind her eyes, before she smiles and presses her forehead against his own. “I know that, silly. I’ve always trusted you,” she noses at his cheek, lips tilting down to press against the corner of his mouth, brief and reassuring. “Always.”

The smile he returns her is rueful, forced. He feels the words catch on his tongue again, a heavy knot that he tries to force down, but every swallow sticks to his throat. He kisses her before she can decipher the remorse behind it.

Her kiss melts his worries away like sugar cubes in hot tea, dissolving into insignificant little particles. Before, he wasn’t sure if he’d be okay with her never knowing, but now he thinks he can manage keeping a secret if it means he can keep her. Forever, indefinitely, as long as time will permit it.

He presses his lips to the top of her head and lets his eyes flutter closed, in a state of genuine peace for the first time in months, years. Somewhere beneath the tranquility, possession broils quietly in his blood, a litany of mine, mine, mine—a sense of blissful conquest. She seems to sense it, somehow, welcomes it.

There’s the slightest quirk of her lips at the corner, a soft smile. One he wouldn’t be able to see anyway, even if she weren’t hiding it against the crook of his neck. Quiet, cunning, yet intrinsically content. Like the cat that caught the canary, or even, a particularly sly snake that had found its way inside her garden.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy smut #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt fanfiction #dark fic #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis

439 notes · View notes

teyums · 1 year

Text

Twin Flames pt. 2

pairing: Ao’nung -> Neteyam x fem!metkayina reader

contains: angst with underlying fluff, melancholy ending. ao’nung and reader are 19, neteyam is 20

a/n: here is the well awaited part 2! i pretty much wrapped it up with the ending. my apologies to the ao’nung girlies if i break your heart with this 😅 i hope y’all enjoy wc: 3,219

Twin Flames. A love so fierce among two souls it’d be impractical to think you could come out unscathed. And while you and Ao’nung were written in the stars— stars burn out and fate can be revised.

Love hurts, that’s the truth of it all. You sign away the rights to your heart when you blindly take that plunge into a realm of whirlwinded emotions, because the reward is always worth the risk.

Ao’nung could sit here and say moments blurred into days, days into weeks, and so on. But the statement would be a bold faced lie, a lie he would much rather have been living over what he was experiencing now, because absolutely nothing blurred together. It was all painfully, crystal clear.

Each day he endures your absence from his life stretches the full, dreaded twenty four hours. Every grueling hour, every painstaking minute, every enervating second leaves him mercilessly aware of just how badly he’s screwed things up with you.

And he stalks around the village like an idiot, misplaced and hopeless, looking in every nook and cranny you might have tucked yourself away in to no avail. It’s like you’ve completely disappeared into thin air. Either that, or you’re really good at avoiding him.

He’d seen you in glimpses, evanescent moments where he’s left thinking he must have imagined your face, because in the blink of an eye, you’re gone. Just as quickly as you come, you go, like the shells the sea leaves upon the shoreline, only to steal them back into the taunting waters that laugh at your failed attempt to rush and grab them before they’re lured back into the deep.

He recognizes now, just how extensive the consequences of his actions are. It’s when he stalks back to his Mauri, a slight stagger in his stride due to the longevity of the day’s training. His father took no interest in going easy on him, probably due to how distracted he seemed the entirety of the lesson.

The centers of targets went untouched by the point of his spear because it fell short every time he plunged it through the air. Hot sand enveloped the discarded tool in a blanket of gold when he chucked it down out of frustration and he’s so fucking tired of this.

In the midst of his exhaustion, his mind plays a cruel trick on him. Makes him think that he’s trudging all the way home to meet your bright smile and warm embrace, until reality hits him like a relentless, angered wave of accountability and almost has his knees buckling. Of course you’re not there, how foolish of him to think you’d forget about what he did and throw yourself right back into the crossfire of his confliction.

It’s pathetic. How he lays in his bed at night, alone, defeated, kept up with the never ceasing memory of how hard he made you cry that day. How he swore he could feel the shards of what once was the shell of your being scrape his skin as it slipped through his fingers and into nothingness before him. He desperately tried to hold onto them, tried to put your pieces back together, but you wouldn’t even let him do that. You scooped up the broken remnants of your heart and took them with you. Couldn’t you have let him keep just one?

He stares across his moonlit room at the shelf on his wall. Particularly at the disheveled accessory that sits atop it, mocking him in the way it’s gone unworn. Slightly misshapen from how tightly your hand had clenched around it, your indignation molded into the crumpled fabric. The gift haunts him, reminds him of the day he wishes he could take back but he can’t bring himself to get rid of it. It’s all he has left of you and your scent still lingers on the leather, though It’s fading, slowly.

He wonders how you’re doing, how you’re handling the whispers that float through the air of you being the latest victim of his immaturity. How he aches to comfort you, to tell you that you were so much more to him than another thoughtless mistake, more than a cheap rendezvous. It angers him, rocks his core with something fierce the way people talk about what happened like it’s their latest gossip. But who is he to blame but himself?

Any other time, or any other girl, rather, he would have been laughing right alongside the talebearers. Shrugging in a disgustingly nonchalant manner and blaming whatever poor soul he’d wronged for her own heartbreak because she knew what she was getting into when she got with him.

It’s why it hurts so bad. Because even while you managed to uproot a gentle side to him no one else had before, somehow he still found a way to hurt you, and even worse than the others at that.

How did he fuck up this badly?

_____

A month has passed and he wishes he would have lost count by now. Everyday without you is excruciating. He had no idea he could miss someone to this extent and it’s why he’s sat by himself on the shore, watching the waves crash against the waiting rocks, elbows resting upon his perched knees with his forearms hung limp between them. And like usual, his ears perk up at the sound of your name in a conversation that has nothing to do with him.

“So, Y/n, huh?” A voice chuckles.

He’s instantly on alert, all because your name rolls from a male’s tongue a little too freely. His spine straightens and his throat clears as he wills his body to remain calm at the simple mention of you.

“Yeah, man. I haven’t seen them together in a while, not sure what happened but I’m pretty sure it’s over. My rites are next week, and I’ll definitely pass. I’m thinking of asking her for her hand.”

Ao’nung nearly recoils and he’s up on his feet in seconds. The thought of you with someone else has his mind in a frenzy. Everything is a blur, the shouting of those around to witness is muted when his fist comes in contact with the poor na’vi’s nose and he’s hissing down at him in a fit of unrefined rage as if he even has the right.

“She’s spoken for.”

_____

Though his failed attempts proved to be fruitless— Ao’nung was somehow still confident enough, or maybe deep enough in denial to believe that eventually, you’d come around. That in due time, the memories of his mistake would trickle from your mind and you’d fall into him again.

But then, the tide changes.

Strange na’vi come swooping in on unfamiliar looking animals, drawing up a crowd of alarmed villagers with their arrival. Men shield their mates from the potential threat, and mothers scoop their children up off their feet and into protective arms while weapons are quickly gathered in preparation.

The screeches of the large birds split through the air and ring uncomfortably in Ao’nung’s ears, but still, he starts towards the direction of the disruption. The dark blue na’vi land on the wet sand of the shores, slender bodies lacking of weapons and hands outstretched to propose vulnerability, ensuring that they come in peace.

There’s six of them. The father, he assumes, the mother, a small girl who’s quickly gathered by her mother’s curt demand, a strange looking female who nervously cowers into her shawl behind them, and two boys.

Their tails are odd, lithe and silly in the way they swish back and forth with uncertainty. A tuft of hair decorates the ends and Ao’nung’s face crinkles in disapproval, but for some reason, you’re intrigued.

It’s the first time he’s really seen you in weeks. All of you, no longer hidden by your desire to avoid him. And somehow, you’re even more beautiful than when he’d last seen you, eyes beady, sparkling and round with interest and he prays you’ll look in his direction, but you don’t. You stand with the rest of the crowd, hands folded behind your back while you eye the strange looking newcomers and Eywa he just wants to hold you again. It’s hard to focus on the invasion of foreigners to his land, because all he can think about is you.

The younger one has already expressed interest and introduced himself to Tsireya with an upwards nod of his head, and she’s a giggling mess beside you, so Ao’nung assumes it must be the eldest brother you’re watching so intently. The armor he wears resembles his father’s, but there’s an obvious difference between their status as he quietly stands behind the man negotiating. Toruk Makto, he comes to find out, or what he calls himself—Jakesully.

Ao’nung isn’t even listening to the conversation his father is having right beside him, because you laugh and his ear turns in its direction, then his head follows. That sweet, sweet laugh. It should’ve melted his heart, like it always did, but instead it makes it freeze over and sends a chill prickling up his spine, because you’re not looking at him.

You couldn’t help your curiosity.

Contrary to Tsireya’s advice, you’d reached out and touched the fluff of the eldest brother’s tail, because everything about him was so different from you and you had a hard time believing he was real. His markings resembled stripes, yours waves. His hair neatly plaited, yours loose. He’s very, very composed, hands politely clasped together in front of him, head raised confidently but not arrogantly and you don’t know why, but you like that. His physique is lean, carved and sculpted to reveal tight muscles that of a warrior. He’s taller than Ao’nung, and much taller than you.

It made you giggle, how his tail seemed to be the most animated part of his dignified, soldier-like disposition, because it hurriedly curled around his small waist with a mind of its own and away from your gentle finger the moment you made contact. The Metkayina boy felt his stomach curdle and bubble with jealousy at your genuine infatuation with this stranger.

The eldest’s braids sway over his shoulders with the movement of his head whipping around, wooden beads clacking against each other while his intense, aureate eyes attempt to locate the culprit of the intrusion. They miss you completely and glance right over your head, but when his chin meets his chest to return his attention to the Olo’eyktans’ conversation, that’s when they find you, and take time to trail down your form. And they keep you, and don’t let you go for a long, spark-filled moment, your big blue eyes peering up into his amber ones that twinkle with newfound interest. You’re shorter than the girls he’s used to, your body plump and soft in the areas Omaticayan women are slender. The boy’s never seen someone quite like you before, that’s clear in the way his brow bone raises.

You looked apprehensive for a beat, smile faltering due to the searing, unintentionally intimidating gaze this man has on you while he examines your person, and Ao’nung’s foot moves to approach, ready to protect his long lost love from this bizarre na’vi— this intruder.

But then, the boy’s hardened mask crumbles, bioluminescent freckles emit a soft glow against dark blue, and he smiles at you, more than willing to look past your curiosity. Your cheeks flush amaranth when you return his grin, the same way they would when you used to look into his eyes.

It was in that moment, Ao’nung felt his heart split into four, as it’d already been severed in half long before this.

____

You make him feel welcome. Neteyam, that is. He occupies the early hours of your day, meets you at your Mauri every morning with a basket of your favorite fruits as a thank you for helping train him and his siblings, because he’s just not satisfied with being anything less than perfect. And it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about your past in the way you beam and pull him along the netted path by his hand, effervescent in the way you bounce along, insistent and thrilled to show him all the parts of your home— his new home.

And he trails behind you with the goofiest smile, because Neteyam would follow you anywhere. He made this known to you from the start and that was something you craved—the solidity of it all. Assurance. The security in something real.

He’s sweet to you, Ao’nung knows he is, because after just a month of these forest freaks living in the village, he notices unfamiliar trinkets begin to adorn your stature.

You now keep a few long braids in your hair, one on either side of your face, and two in the back, you’ve never done that before. You always claimed you liked your hair loose like the waves of the sea you loved so— untamed like the light of your spirit. But your undeniable pull to the man of the forest has you compromising.

There’s a stack of unfamiliar beads looped on the ends of each of them, and surely they’re not made with a material collected from the reef. They’re wooden and polished, embellished with painted markings he doesn’t recognize. You’ve never worn those before.

Ao’nung waits for this fling to pass. But then, the second month goes by, and then another, until he realizes that you’ve moved on. Of course you have. Why shouldn’t you? It’s not like you hadn’t found him cozied up with another girl, cooing the same promises he’d kissed onto your skin into the ear of another, as if he hadn’t been telling you for nights on end that he wanted to make you his mate. What a beautiful lie, and if only you’d known it was the truth.

You like Neteyam, because he’s gentle. He’s kind, and thoughtful, and cares for others more than he cares for himself. He makes you feel seen, and safe. Valued. You make him feel heard, and appreciated. Relaxed. Things the both of you have apparently lacked the majority of your young lives.

It’s easy with him, because you never have to worry about his eyes lingering elsewhere or his attention wandering. He’s so smitten with you and you’re so enamored with him, and it’s all so consuming that you don’t know what else to do other than rave about it from the cliff tops to prevent your heart from bursting with the premature promise of forever and scaring him off, little do you know he wants it more than you do.

Neteyam makes you feel whole, and gorgeous in all aspects of your being, not just beautiful because of what he sees on the outside. He’s in love with your soul, in a way you never thought a man could be, but only because you’d never been told.

You’re his only one, and in every breath he takes he makes sure this is known. He boasts about you to his parents and siblings and the friends he’s managed to make in the village whenever he gets the chance. And with slender fingers, he’s much more skilled at Ao’nung at this jewelry making thing, because damn near every week there’s a shiny new prospect of Neteyam’s love and appreciation strung around your neck in pretty beads and shells that have you squealing and jumping into his waiting arms as if he’s proposed.

It’s something you’d always told Ao’nung you wanted, a token of his appreciation in the form of something you could hold, something you could keep close to your heart for years to come. Something he never got around to doing because he insisted to himself that it’d push him off the deep end and into the tumultuous waters of loving you, unknown to the fact that he needed no one to help him do that but himself.

You feel like a princess everyday because Neteyam tells you that you are one. And he doesn’t just tell you, he treats you as such, too.

Sun kissed jewels from the high depths only a skilled climber can reach dress your wrist, like they were made for you. They match your eyes and you wear them like it’s your second skin because you almost cried when he gave them to you, paired with a confession of his love and Ao’nung wishes he’d thought of it first.

It makes him sick. All he hears around the grapevine is how you’ve never looked this happy. How you have an unmistakable glow to you, a pep in your step due to the golden boy who’s somehow won the hearts of the people in Awa’atlu in his short time here, just as he had done with his own people back home.

How a weightlessness clings to your answers when your friends ask how you and the forest boy are getting along, because it’s nothing less than a dream come true.

It’s a stupid question, the answer is so painfully obvious that it has Ao’nung wanting to rip his hair out.

Neteyam looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in his sky, like the sun rises in your irises though he knows the blazing star is much too hot to be the color blue. He holds onto you in public, proudly, without shame or fear that others might see, because he’s just so blessed to call you his.

He’d even passed his rites to cement that, the first out of his siblings to do so, and it’s no surprise that he chose one of the most extensive designs for his tattoo. You were right there, holding his hand as he sat through the entire session with no breaks, all to prove to you how strong of a warrior he was. Though the black ink etched along the side of his hip that stretches all the way down to his ankle is more than enough proof of that. And as if to rub seasalt into the wound, he’d even tamed Tsurak (Skimwing) on his first try, because he excels in everything he does, yet the man shows you off as if you’re his biggest accomplishment.

Because you are, and you should be. Ao’nung just hates that it isn’t him in his spot.

____

He shouldn’t have asked.

But you and Tsireya are close friends and he just wanted his mind to shut up with the endless scenarios it creates on loop when he’s trying to sleep at night. He just wanted to know if it was as serious as it looked, and his foolish heart really hoped it wasn’t. So every time Tsireya returned home from the daily training sessions with you and the other Sully’s, he was the first to meet her at the entrance, prying her for more information on you and the one who’d taken his place.

“Tell me,” He demands of his younger sister. It’s a look she’s never seen in his eyes before— desperation. “Does she love him?” He breathes, grasping on to the last bit of hope he has left.

She sighs, plucking her bicep from his soft hold with a gentle shake of her head. “Ask her yourself, Ao’nung. This is no longer my place, I will not get in the middle of your messes.”

“I can’t ask her, ‘Reya, you know that.” He pleads with her, “She won’t even look at me anymore. Please, just tell me.”

Her eyes meet his, looking between them and he can feel the disappointment radiating off her demeanor because she knows what he’s done. She knows you and Neteyam have plans to make your bond official, and she knows it’s far too late for her brother to fix things.

“Do you want her to be happy?”

Ao’nung hesitates at the question, but nods nonetheless. His answer is complicated, there’s layers to it. He wants you back, because he wants you to be happy, and you were always happy when you were with him. At least, you used to be, so maybe things could go back to the way they were if he tried hard enough.

But all hope dwindles like a candle snuffed with wet fingers when he hears the truth he’s been avoiding.

“Then let her go.”

part one

Likes + Reblogs + Comments are much appreciated! 💗

tag list based on the comments on part one ⬇️

@ako-gamboge @yaya6765 @yourusername1 @melllinaa @eitaababe

#avatar 2 #neteyam x na'vi!reader #ao’nung x female reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x reader #avatar way of water #neteyam x y/n #ao’nung x reader #neteyam sully #avatar twow #ao’nung fanfic #neteyam fanfiction #ao’nung angst #neteyam fluff

343 notes · View notes

stuckinapril · 3 months

Note

Hey! Asking since you seem to know quite a bit about this and I'm just starting out- for longer lasting and more obvious fragrance, would you recommend using a perfume rather than a body mist/spray? In my experience I've noticed that a body mist barely lasts a couple of hours unless I apply a lotion or cream with a similar fragrance first, so was wondering if switching to a perfume might help :3 love your blog btw!

hi hello i have some hacks for this!!

yes!! perfume lasts much longer than body mist/spray.

perfume lasts longer in hair and textile than it does on the body. if you have hair mist, i recommend spraying it on the bristles of ur brush and combing it through ur hair (never apply alcohol perfume!! it’ll damage ur hair). i don’t really like applying perfume to clothes tbh, but it’s a way to ensure long-lasting perfume if u don’t mind it.

i usually apply to pulse points, sometimes behind the ear. never everrr rub the perfume in once u spray. that’ll just make it dissipate.

moisturized skin!! so important. make sure ur skin is moisturized before applying. some people recommend dabbing in vaseline before spraying, but im not a fan of it tbh. i usually just get one of my scent-free lotions, moisturize my whole body, then apply on pulse points. that helps “trap” the scent.

scent layering is very effective!! first apply perfume oil, then follow it up w the alcohol perfume.

i just started doing this so im not sure how effective it rly is, but i’ve read before that layering different scents leads to longevity (and is also so fun).

literally just do what i do and have perfume on u all the time. my mom has indoctrinated me into this from a very young age. this woman always has perfume on her, perfume in her car on the tiny chance she forgot, and perfume at her workplace. just reapply when u feel like the scent has faded—but also keep in mind that ur nose experiences olfactory fatigue, meaning it eventually adjusts to the scent and u stop noticing it, so be realistic about when u reapply.

#getting into perfume was soo fun for me and im sure it’ll be fun for u too #i’m personally more into skin scents and i tend to find that more in luxury perfumes #but it’s absolutely possible to smell like a million bucks w cheaper ones. u just have to hunt. which i’m lazy about but ik its possible #ask #fragrance

59 notes · View notes

baka-bakeneko · 10 months

Text

Rojo Carnal - Miguel O'Hara x Reader [NSFW]

tags: intimacy, fantasy thoughts, grinding, spanglish terms of endearment, sexual frustration, obsession, Miguel-canon aggression, missionary sex, biting, slight aftercare

word count: 6.3k

synopsis: You and Miguel have gone on two dates. You know what that means? A third date.

a/n: barking snarling, i need this man to speak actual garbage to me because i am nothing but trash for him (don't tell Riv)

"A date," Miguel murmured into the mirror before him. He tucked his grey button-up shirt into his dark blue jeans then slicked both hands through his hair.

Your third date to be exact. This final time, Miguel had reached out to you, asked if you wanted to have drinks and dinner again. You suggested dinner and dancing.

And who was Miguel but to oblige. He thought of what you'd wear out this time. The last two times you both went out, he'd been unable to take his mind off your outfits.

On your first date out to lunch, you wore a fuzzy baby blue sweater and matching sneakers. Your light wash jeans were practically painted on and when you bent forward to grab your napkin from the patio ground, Miguel acknowledged the strip of skin revealed between your sweater and the back of your pants.

On your second date to get ice cream and see a movie, Miguel's mouth watered at the slip camisole you wore under a dark red cardigan. The high-waisted pants were tucked under your bulky white socks that complimented your white sneakers.

When you opened your mouth to take a large swipe at the side of your melting ice cream and it dripped onto your breast, Miguel bit his own tongue and kept your gaze.

He kept your eyes even as the cream trailed into your cleavage before you finally noticed and giggled, embarrassed. He'd quickly grabbed a handful of napkins and offered them to you.

Now, Miguel thought, if he saw anymore of your skin he'd pounce. The longevity was enough, the imagination of every curve you kept secret under your clothes. He'd imagined how your legs would look tangled in his sheets, how your thighs would open for him on his couch.

Miguel hissed, adjusting himself in his jeans before the mirror. He had to be good, he'd managed to not scare you off before this.

And it wasn't the sex he was most interested in; Miguel craved the intimacy of someone so close to him. Every goodnight kiss you gave was another dose to his system, hanging on your every word and movement.

His eyes devoured you when you moved so minutely, his nostrils sucking up every spare trace of your scent. Miguel was infatuated with you, and tonight would be another step to being so deeply embedded in you.

He patted his pockets, made sure he had all he needed before swinging by to pick you up. In the corner of his eye, Miguel noticed his watch slipping from under his sleeve and quickly tucked it back on his forearm then reached for the front door and left.

He sat in front of your apartment building, windows rolled down on his royal blue muscle car. A car he'd had a strong urge to wax down on a weekly basis now.

The body of the car gleamed on its edges, the racing stripe on the sides a scarlet red. As close to his suit as possible, but he'd never tell you that.

No, he wanted to keep you as far from that part of his life as possible. And he would. By any means necessary. For your protection, of course.

You were running late. Miguel prompted he'd pick you up at seven, but here it was 7:05 as you were tying on your heels and fumbling out of the front door of your apartment.

You managed to grab your keys and phone, slip them into your chain purse and shut the door firmly behind you.

Miguel leaned forward to look out of the passenger window, watching as you came down the front steps of the apartment. He climbed out of his seat and rounded the front, pulling the passenger door open as you walked up to him.

"Hello stranger," you began, pulling the strap of your purse up to your shoulder.

You held your arms out to wrap around Miguel's neck, let him envelop your waist almost twice-fold with the length of his arms. You trilled nervously as the man lifted you off of your feet, almost pitting you up to his stomach.

"Mi amor," Miguel responded gruffly, his molten brown eyes boring into you before drifting to your lips suddenly.

They were a bitten type of pink, glossy and full. You leaned in with his hold on you and caught his mouth in a full kiss, one that teased a slip of your tongue beyond his lips.

O'Hara groaned lowly into your mouth, opening his to allow you to lick the soft insides of him. He slowly let you back on your feet, his hands going for your jaw to hold you close while he made the effort to kiss you back.

Your hands drifted from his neck to the front of Miguel's chest, feeling at the hem of his button-up and acknowledging the lack of buttons all the way to his sternum.

Your fingertips teased at his chest, feeling the hard lines of his pectorals before finding his waist and bracing your hands against his front.

He was reluctant to pull away from you but did so anyways, swallowing the sweet remnants of your lip gloss as you stood, flushed, before him.

You reached to swipe at your bottom lip, acknowledging the soft tingle Miguel's suction gave to them. In your awe, Miguel took the silent moment to take in your outfit.

He was going to die tonight if he this wasn't the outfit that decorated his floor tonight, the clear stilettos that strapped around your ankles and the thigh-length, high-slit silver dress that draped over your body like a napkin.

The heavy dip between your breasts that let Miguel know there was no bra in this equation; the double slits up the sides that revealed the naked skin of your thighs which meant there were no panties to wet either.

Inside, Miguel's heart was aggressively pounding, almost aching to be let free, to run all the thoughts that he was suppressing while keeping your eye contact.

The instant thought of snapping the spaghetti straps on your shoulders with his claws and watching the dress fall away like the curtains of a Broadway opening night was at the forefront.

This was not dancing attire. This was eating-out attire, splaying your legs apart like unwrapping a present they were wrapped up to be.

Your heart raced by Miguel's intense stare on you, his molten eyes never moving from yours while his chest rose and fell in heavy billows of air.

His hands found his hips, wading them over your hands placed before his waist. "Are you ready?"

You snapped to his full attention.

Right, you remembered with blinking at him. Dinner and dancing.

There was no way you'd be able to focus on dinner when you wanted to be as close to Miguel as possible. Your stomach tightened at the thought of food in an instance like this, knowing that you'd waste anything in front of you because your mouth was watering for this man.

"Let's go dancing first," you offered, leaning into him with a grin. You hoped to sway this man to your whim, if only for tonight because your body and mind were buzzing.

Miguel stared down his nose at you, not allowing his emotion to play on his face. He blinked slowly at you, staring at your freshly-kissed lips and down the front of your dress to see even more of you without undressing you.

He cleared his throat, dramatically rolled his eyes. "Ahh, cariño mia..."

"Please?" you asked sweetly, your hands taking hold of his. You threaded your fingers between his, clasped them up and out as you pouted your lips towards him. "We can eat after, Miguel."

He turned his gaze away, looking down the road to the city lights just beyond your apartment building. When you spoke his name, every time you did, his heart immediately switched and he was suddenly at your beck and call.

He sucked on his teeth, cut back to look at you then down. "Fine. Let's go, huh?"

You bounced excitedly just before him, releasing his hands to take grip of his jaw and kiss his cheek. "You're the best."

"I know," Miguel agreed, holding your door as he took your hand and helped you into the car. "Watch your step."

You carefully stepped off the curb and into the car with a bend to sit down. Miguel kept his eyes honed on your purse then, ignoring how your legs parted in your effort to sit and how your knees immediately welded together when you were sat.

He carefully shut the door after you, leaning in to kiss you again. You caught his lips with a deep hum, allowing him to tilt your head back as his hand grazed up to brace your nape.

Miguel parted from you with a low exhale, staring deeply into you before letting you go and rounding the front of the car. You tightened your fists in your lap, tugging the hem of your dress down to think of anything else.

Miguel held his hand out for you to take after parking his car. You waded your dress down as you turned your legs out of the car and slowly stood up.

"I never said," Miguel began, shutting the door of his car firmly behind you. "but you look absolutely luminosa."

"Thank you, Miguel," you beamed, standing fully before him. "You don't look half-bad yourself."

It was too light for how you actually felt. The thought of tearing his perfectly taut shirt open and lapping at his rippling chest flashed your mind every time you stared at his bare stomach.

"Ahh," Miguel scoffed, turning away with another playful smack of his teeth. "You flatter me."

He held his bent arm out for you to take; you curled your arm through his and followed him to the front of the club. He puffed his chest proudly as he led you through the parking lot and to the front doors of the dance club.

The music bled through the windows and into the streets; the bass rattled the glasses, the tiles of the floor as the bouncer posted at the front door gave a side-eye to Miguel before waving for the two of you to enter.

As soon as you stepped past the threshold, you felt the music take its hold. The entrancing rhythm hooked deep into your hips and you began stepping lightly in the direction of the main floor.

Miguel followed closely after you, his nose wrinkling in amusement as you became a different version of yourself in the music. The song cross-faded from a light hip-hop to a bumpy reggae.

The two of you stood before the large vast of the room, the groups huddled along walls while the air was palpable with music and sweat. This was almost ravenous. The lights were turned off overhead and replaced with multicolored disco lights, red and blue LEDs hung in the corners of the room.

You parted from Miguel to get a feel of the sound as it rushed through your body, zipping over your skin like the most intoxicating touch. Then Miguel's hands were on your hips, replacing that feeling ten-fold and making you roll your eyes.

Miguel was stiff behind you, his hands placed carefully at your hips before stepping closer. You raised your hands over your head, draped your arms over Miguel's shoulders as you stepped timidly into the music.

Every step you took, your hips followed. Step, dip, sway. Step, dip, sway. Miguel's hands tracked the miniscule movements of your body under his hold, his feet carefully following your lead on the already slick dance floor.

You glanced back at him, backing yourself into Miguel until his body was singularly plastered behind yours.

Miguel swallowed hard at you pressed into him, hoping to keep his touch appropriate while his cock was threatening to slot up your skirt.

"And here I thought I'd be begging you to dance," you breathed out, the room making each exhale a deep pant.

The humidity solidified the room, making the music change close to slippery as the reggae changed into a bass-heavy samba. You leaned your head back to Miguel's shoulder, already losing your breath as your hips began shifting up and down against your date's waist.

Miguel gulped softly, staring down at you now dance-writhing on him. He acknowledged your hips shifting, slowly grinding on him as his hands became numb from the constant movement under them.

His eyes lowered to half-mast, no longer thinking of anything else but you. He was being actively seduced and whipped by you, by the soft noises that escaped your now-sticky pink lips.

"Mi amor, I have something to ask you," he began, withholding his own pants as he leaned into you.

He wanted to be all over you in this instant, feeling your dress wading up your thighs while his hands fought to keep the fabric down. Miguel wanted to be pulled into you, melted with you and mixed through this heat until you two came out a sweaty, congealed amalgamation.

"Yeah baby?" You offered, flicking your eyes up to meet Miguel's soft brown eyes, now melting and honey-kissed.

His voice caught instantly in his throat, his chest tightening at your words. How they fell from your lips so needily, so hungry.

Miguel felt his fangs sharpen instantly in his mouth, stabbing into his tongue while he pondered how to phrase the questions battering his mind.

His eyes trailed down the length of your neck to the delectable curve of your dress between your breasts and further to the short length of your skirt. He instantly wanted to curl his arms around you and stow you away from public eyes, keep you to himself and mark you just the same.

"I...I..." Miguel tried to speak, but the air began to bead into his throat.

He turned his head to the ceiling, staring at the slow turning fan in the center of the room. "Corazon, no no puedo," Miguel muttered under his breath.

Your brows knitted together as you stood upright and turned around in Miguel's hold. You leaned in and offered a tentative kiss to his neck, the thought having weighed on you since your first date.

Your mouth turned to line his throat, kissing at his skin again before tempting your tongue out to him. Miguel rolled his eyes at the sensation, your hands now placed at his chest and the nape of his neck.

He righted himself to look down at you, into your now ravenous eyes and readied himself to kiss you again. This time, he'd let you pull away, because if you didn't, then he'd envelop you whole.

Miguel rested his forehead to yours, pulling you back from kissing at his skin. You panted against his lips, your crossed eyes glaring into him.

You slowly shut your eyes as your breathing picked up, angling up on your heels to kiss him yet again. You'd devour him if he let you, you'd kiss and nibble and lick until you reduced him to your own little hard candy.

"Do you...want to get out of here?" You offered against his mouth, pulling away an inch.

Miguel shared your hot breath in his, tasting your lip gloss yet again. He nodded softly, not parting from you as his arms crossed tightly around your waist.

Of course he wanted to leave with you, but he didn't want to move away from you now.

"Un momento," he whispered against your lips, swaying you slower in the rhythm of the music.

You nodded meekly at him, following his sway. Even though you'd be with him for the rest of the night, there was something so tangible about this moment, how melded you two felt in the rising heat of the room.

When Miguel leaned in to kiss you a final time before leaving, his wrist buzzed. His eyes flashed open in an instant, a seep of crimson rage surging through his vision as he looked down at his watch on his wrist.

You were too enveloped with Miguel to notice, only realized a difference in his demeanor by the furrow of his brow and the pull away.

You opened your eyes to Miguel now staring angrily at his watch, pulling back his sleeve to glare at the screen.

"Miguel? Everything okay?" You asked, following the man as he backed off of the dance floor.

Miguel's focus broke from you, now fervently staring at the screen as a new canon event emerged and its divergence.

"No, no, no." Miguel quickly backtracked, holding his hands out to reassure you. "Everything's fine, cariño. I-I have an emergency I have to get to though. I can drop you off."

Instant cold shower on the moment. Miguel felt the ice run through his veins after uttering it. He saw the slow disappointment war on your face, the curve of your brows as you weighed the selfish thought of keeping Miguel to yourself.

"S-sure," you muttered, adjusting your purse on your shoulder.

Miguel wanted to know all that it would take to make this up to you, how much begging and bending to your whim he'd forfeit himself to just for you to let him in your apartment.

"Okay, okay. I'm so sorry," Miguel offered as he led the way out of the dance club. "Stay here, stay right here, I'll bring the car around."

You nodded softly, dragged your now aching feet out of the club to wait on the corner. And here you wasted your best dress and shoes just to be driven home before the night even started.

Miguel hit at the steering wheel as he geared his car into reverse. The ramp up of the night was now tangling in his bunched shoulders, the sweat he gained from the dance club itself now itching into him with ice.

"Lyla, maldito, what is it, what's up?" He asked impatiently, putting his foot onto the pedal and peeling out of the parking spot.

"Well hello to you too, Romeo. How's your night going?" Lyla laid her cool demeanor on thick, only riling Miguel's shoulders further.

"Lyla!" He snapped lowly, gearing the stick into first and managing the top speed to pick you up.

"Jeez, fine, bad timing. We have a split incoming and I know you want to be there." She explained through the watch.

"Yeah, not really," Miguel muttered as he pulled up to the curb before you. "Gotta go. Send me the details a-sap."

He leaned over to push your door open and watched as you climbed in carefully, tossing your now-ditched heels onto his clean floor.

Miguel sighed deeply at the sight of you, now sweated-out of your styled hair and your lips dry from kissing. He wanted to carry you upstairs to avoid you walking on your heels, letting them be the last things you wore before he bedded you.

Now though, he was disappointed with this night.

"Tesoro, I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Miguel reached a hand out to carefully caress your cheek. His thumb reached out to smush your lips together, drag your bottom lip down as a stray whimper escaped his throat.

"It's okay, baby," you offered from behind your smashed lips. "I understand your emergency."

Miguel hid a soft snarl, his fang pinching into the tip of his tongue. He wished you truly understood but for now, he'd leave you in the dark.

You managed to kiss Miguel one final time before he peeled away from the curb in front of your apartment. Your heels in hand, you adjusted your purse on your shoulder with a sigh and fished your keys out.

You walked carefully up the stairs to your apartment door, forcing your key in the lock and pushing the door open. Once inside, you dropped your heels to the floor and forced the door shut behind you.

Your coagulated belly was now thickening, the thought of such a frustrating third date weighing deep in the pit of you. You groaned, turning into the bathroom to wash your face. You'd take a shower in the morning...right now, you still smelled of Miguel and that was more than you had at the end of the night.

Trudging to your kitchen, you popped open the fridge to find a beer. Beer you bought specifically for Miguel. Hiding a roll of your eyes, you popped the cap and slammed the fridge shut with your hip as you took a deep swig.

The thoughts of the night continued to play on your mind, how close Miguel was in those last few moments. The butterflies that emerged and tickled under your skin by his touch.

You hummed dreamily and plopped down on the couch, pulling your feet up and draping your legs carelessly.

"Wish Miguel could see this," you uttered to yourself lowly, admiring the way your dress laid just below your hips now.

You exhaled and arched your back to get comfortable, willfully ignoring the wet between your legs. You guessed this was the best solution of the night, only because you'd bought a new set of silk pajamas just for Miguel and there was no way you'd have been able to wear it under this.

Still, it was a cute dress though. If Miguel was privy to the idea, you'd have let him take a video of you grinding on him. You reached for your phone in your purse, clicking it on to take a few pictures of your outfit.

A few wild selfies, a few pictures where you slowly peeled your dress from your chest and finally a video of you pulling up your dress to your squeezed-together thighs.

You chewed at your pinkie nail, wondering when would be an appropriate time to send them to Miguel. If his emergency was that urgent, he would probably be busy for the rest of the night.

But you still wanted him to come over when he was done, as long as it was soon.

'When your emergency's over...I'll be waiting', you wrote as a text message to Miguel, sending the video of you flashing under your dress.

Miguel bit at his knuckles while free climbing the side of the building. He'd taken a moment to look at his phone, already in his worst mood, and was lightened by what you sent him.

He was that close. He rutted against the brick, let the fabric of his suit catch onto the rough texture and rub a little friction over his cock.

"Fu-u-uck," Miguel drew out in a low breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he softly pounded his forehead to the brick. "Quiero follarte tanto, oye."

He was going to chew off his tongue if he didn't get home to you tonight.

"Do you know..." Miguel growled, sliding his phone back into his suit pocket, "what I'm missing dealing with you right now? Hijo de puta madre eres el idiota mas inutil y pendejo!"

You finished off your beer after no response from Miguel and climbed off of the couch, tossed your bottle in the kitchen trash then went to your room to change into your red silk pajama camisole and matching shorts with black lace trim.

Climbing into bed, you plugged in your phone and sent a final text to Miguel.

'If you're trying to come over, make sure you come through the window ;P front door's locked' you teased, half hoping for an immediate response from him.

Miguel snarled from under his mask, feeling his phone vibrate on his thigh as he chased further up the building after the anomaly wrecking havoc in a town he didn't even know existed.

You looked back at the front door and wondered if you should've left the front door unlocked for him, or if you left your key under the mat for him to enter when he was done.

But he was probably really busy with his emergency. So you'd have to talk to him in the morning.

Miguel stood before the portal as it opened right before your apartment building. He'd carelessly swiped the blood from his cheek and changed back into his date night attire, catching his breath as he stared up at the building on the opposite side of the portal.

He stepped through and retrieved his phone from his pocket, finally stopping to admire the full tease you gave him in video form. He rolled his eyes dramatically, dropping his shoulder as he circled around himself.

He had to at least try, right? Miguel was going to try going up to your apartment. Except he didn't know which one was yours. This would be the night he learned that.

Miguel looked around the desolate street, hoping no one noticed him emerging from the portal and the next thing he was about to do. He approached the wall of your apartment complex, pushing his sleeves up over his elbows before producing his claws and digging them into the brick and mortar.

He pulled himself up onto the wall, clawing hungrily at the wall to climb further up. Each floor he passed, he glanced into the balcony window, hoping to find you. By the third floor, he was heaving softly, peering in to finally catch your window.

You'd fallen asleep curled halfway in your comforter, the moonlight from your window streaking over your thick thigh. The more he stared, Miguel noted the soft lace rested on your skin, the cut of your shorts giving more skin than coverage.

He groaned outwardly at the sight of you, curled up and sleeping soundly. Jumping onto the balcony, Miguel reached for the screen door and was surprised by its easy slide open.

He stopped at the foot of your bed, raking his starved eyes over your body. Miguel tore his shirt away from his body, dropping it to the floor then kicked off his shoes and grabbed his belt before dropping it behind him.

He rested a knee on the edge of your bed, acknowledged the soft creak it gave in return. You stirred softly, rolling over with a low sigh.

Miguel took that opportunity to crawl up behind you, draping his arm over your waist. He tenderly pulled you into him, slotting your ass just against the waist of his pants.

He slowly folded his arm under your pillow, bowing his head to inhale your hair through his nose. This was what he wanted, first and foremost. To hold you so close, to listen while you breathed softly and cooed in your sleep. The intimacy.

The warmth.

Miguel's eyes threatened to close at the thought, ready to drift off to sleep with you since you weren't even bothered by his presence.

Until you shifted softly in your sleep, a dormant moan escaping your lips as your thin shorts caught against Miguel's jeans and you felt his bulge pulse against your pussy.

Miguel looked down at you, feeling your sleeping form squirm into him with whatever thoughts drove your dreams. He curled his arm further, placing his large hand between your thighs as his fingers sifted slowly up; his thumb dully pressed at the seam of your shorts.

You released a tired pitch, your eyes pinching shut before waking with a soft gasp. You glanced over your shoulder and up to see Miguel curled up behind you.

Your hands reached out and felt his arm curled around you, his hand sandwiched between your thighs.

"Cariña," he soothed lowly, his voice holding a distinct edge.

Your mind, softened with sleep, began to wonder how Miguel got in. The third floor of your apartment complex was a daunting feat and you swore you didn't leave a key for him at the front door.

Still, you tilted your head back at him. Craning your neck you met his lips in a languid kiss. You hummed into his mouth, feeling his body heavy behind yours.

Miguel's touch was tentative, careful, as he raked his fingers from between your thighs and up the front of your body. His fingers stopped at the waistline of your shorts before they wiggled back down, caressing your mound before finding your clit.

Your pitched into Miguel's mouth, instantly rutting into his waist. He offered a low whimper in return, pushing back into you to let you know what he wanted.

What his body craved in this instant. The color of red looked delectable on you, he wished to suck it clean off of you. Miguel pulled away with a dry huff, dropping his lips to the meet of your neck and shoulder as his hand dipped further between your hips.

Touching your wet pussy made a growl rev in his throat. All this workup, remembering the sweat that dewed over you earlier and the number you wore out.

"I wish you'd have kept that dress on," he whispered, teasingly swirling two fingers just before your entrance. "I'd have gladly ditched dinner for that meal."

You whined against him then, burrowing your head under his in this precarious position. As Miguel's fingers teased further, you reached back to massage the hardened length tucked tightly in his pants.

"You've wanted me that soon? Before the dancing?" You asked, almost dumbfounded that this man was actually attracted to you.

"Before I even asked you out, cariña. Those jeans, joder, I was putty before you spoke my name."

Miguel's forearm pulled your further into him, hoping you two would meld into one.

"Miguel," you exhaled deeply, tilting your shoulder into his to meet his eyes. "I want you now and then and everyday after."

He stared down at your face in the milky darkness of the moon and rested his forehead to yours; his fingers slowly sank into you and your mouth fell open, your eyes shutting with a low breath of noise.

You turned onto your back, your legs instantly prying open at Miguel's fingers pressed deep into you. Your hand reached out for his wrist, keeping him there as he shifted up on his side.

"Everyday after?" Miguel asked genuinely, pecking your neck with his soft lips before traveling down to your collarbone.

You nodded, sitting up slightly as he skirted down your body with a deep inhale. "As long as you want me."

Miguel grinned darkly at your admission, pulling his fingers back before slowly pumping them regularly. Your body writhed at the sensation, the low rumbling warmth of his fingers slipping in and out of you, touching at your sensitive walls.

"Everyday and night. I won't stop until you tell me to." Miguel lined himself over your body, sliding his fingers out of you before putting them up to his mouth.

He selfishly lapped at his wet fingers, savoring your juices before reaching to peel your shorts down. You reached out to touch at his thick chest, admire his broad shoulders then further to his tapered waist.

You raised a knee to his hip as your fingers pet just under his pants then dove to take grip of his cock. You hid a gulp at feeling him, thick and thrumming, almost fighting behind his zipper.

Your hands tugged at the waist of his pants and freed his cock, allowing you to stroke him fully. Miguel bowed his head at the feeling of your hand on him, his shoulders shuddering at the languid strokes to his cock.

You leaned into his view, catching his lips hungrily while you continued to pump your hand. He was hot in your touch, the veins of him twitching under the skin.

Miguel followed your lead with your mouth, smacking and leaning back down as your hand guided his cock between your hips. You heaved eagerly in his face, feeling his tip graze your clit.

You lined his cock down between your lips and back up to your entrance as Miguel's face pinched suddenly.

"H-Hold on," he tried, only to be silenced by your lips again.

"It's okay," you cooed into his mouth, meeting his melted brown eyes. "We'll go slow."

At that, Miguel angled his hips in your lead and sank his tip into you. You dropped your head back slightly with a whimper, your free hand going to his neck to keep his eyes.

You spread your legs further, allowed Miguel to sink an inch further; your body broke into a new sweat, his cock paving its way into you.

"Cariña?" Miguel questioned gently. "Are you..."

You nodded eagerly, pressing your forehead to his again. "Keep going..."

Miguel felt the bundle of his shoulders slowly release at plunging into you. You were everything he imagined you to be, so warm and intoxicating, soft and delicious.

Not delicate, but he wouldn't move too fast with you. He wanted to savor all of this with you. He exhaled openly in your face, the scent of his breath somehow sweet.

Miguel stretched his arms out and caught your hands, raising them over your head as he flattened his stomach to yours. He stretched himself out over you, touching your skin to all of him and driving a low moan out.

He felt your pert nipples against his chest, the softness of you so malleable and inviting.

When he finally sank his full length in you, you tilted your head up to groan out. Miguel's cock filled you, molded your walls around him with soft cants of his hips to start a rhythm.

"Dios mio," Miguel muttered just against your ear, his voice now hoarse and gasping.

He felt desperate for more of you, a new sense of reverence soaring through him and into his worship of your body.

His breathing picked up softly before your face, staring down at the cross mosaic he was piecing together. Your mouth fallen open, your beautiful lips new crescents taking on the moon's glow.

Your skin was streaked in the luminous glow, blue milk making a new meal of your body. Miguel was truly spoiled in this instance, moving slowly over you and earning the luxurious symphony of noises that escaped your throat.

You felt selfish in that moment, watching Miguel draped over you as his hips moved unhurriedly in and out of you. The sweat began to accumulate between you, the slick of his skin driving new pants out of you.

"You feel..." you swallowed to coat your throat with new moisture. "amazing."

Miguel chuckled dryly, leaning in to kiss the corner of your lips. "That's what I was going to say."

You smiled blissfully just as Miguel's cock hit at your g-spot again. He'd been ringing right there for a minute, but this time it felt renewed.

"Fuck," you mewed, licking at his mouth. "Just like that."

Miguel's brows knitted together, nodding along with you. "Yeah, like that?"

You raised your knees to his waist, riding his thrusts into you. He dropped his head down to your neck, lined his tongue along your throat before finding the softest part of your neck.

He had to, there was no other way for him to show how badly he needed you. To show how utterly desperate and devoted he was to keep you.

Miguel slowly parted his lips and produced his fangs, the pearlescent spears shining in the moonlight; he prepared your skin with a deep suck, readying a light hickey before replacing his teeth over.

You cried out, your hands clenching harder at Miguel's as his teeth sank into your flesh and muscle. The surprise, combined with Miguel's lush strokes, culminated together and you tightened your knees on his waist.

You came instantly, following Miguel's pumps while he gulped at your skin. The stars seeped into your vision, Miguel's cock raking through your walls and driving out more pleasure.

Miguel whimpered just against your skin upon your walls tightening around him. He slowed his thrusts to wait out your orgasm, but found himself edging until he unclamped from your neck.

He carelessly pulled out of you, gasping at hastily avoiding cumming in you. Miguel took his hands back, one hand bracing his hair as the other held at his twitching cock. You writhed in his wake, your knees shuddering at his sides.

You stared at the man knelt before you, catching your breath while he held his cock lightly. You reached for your pajama top and peeled it off of your sweaty body, tossing it aside before draping your arms over your head.

"You can come on me," you whispered, swallowing in more air.

Miguel tilted his head at you, following your direction and using your body to finally cum. He braced a hand next to your waist, clenching hard at your sheets as he streaked hot ropes of cum over your stomach.

They were thick over your skin, the touch cooling against you. Miguel ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward to kiss you, then stood up off of the bed to grab a towel for you.

He walked to the kitchen and produced a kitchen towel for you; Miguel knelt back onto the bed and wiped his cum off of your stomach.

"I'm sorry, mi amor," Miguel frowned, leaning in to peck your forehead. "I guess I got carried away."

He stood up to walk away again but you grabbed his wrist.

"Miguel," you began, pulling him back into bed. "Stop, it's okay. Just...come back to bed."

He stared down at you, completely kissed in the wake of the moon. Miguel dropped the towel to the floor and carefully climbed back into bed beside you.

You curled into him magnetically, draping your arms around him as your legs tangled between his.

Miguel wrapped his arms around your small shoulders, his hand finding the back of your head to hold you against his chest. He tucked his chin over your head and inhaled deeply, once again lulled to sleep by your presence.

-----------------------------------------------------

gahhhleee, how many fucking words is that? my fingies hurt. also miguel miguel miguel miguel miguel miguel

y'all know me, i love myself a dorito shaped brown man

i dunno if i'll write more miguel, i guess we'll have to see how well this one does. anyways....

#miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #bakeneko

236 notes · View notes

winterlogysblog · 1 month

Text

Fairy Scents ft. Kiane Kids Scent Headcanons

It's well established that each fairy has a scent that is associated with a flower or a herb. So far we have confirmed scents for each notable fairy we have been introduced to.

So after some quick research I found some info about these flowers and their scents

King - Gold Osmanthus

Osmanthus Wine tastes same as I remember, but where are those who share the memory XD

Origins: China

In the language of flowers, they carry the meaning of love and romance, symbolising true love and faithfulness

Smells like a mix of juicy peaches, ripe apricots with soft leather or suede.

Elaine - Lavender

Origins: Mediterranean

Represent purity, silence, devotion, serenity, grace, and calmness.

Biblical meaning of lavender symbolizes purity, devotion, and love

Delicate, sweet smell that is floral, herbal, and evergreen woodsy at the same time

Helbram - White Rose

Origins: Ancient Greece

Symbolize loyalty, purity, and innocence.

Combination of floral and fruity notes, with hints of honey and jasmine

Fun fact: A White Rose is what King used to kill Helbram (the first time) it turned red because of the blood

Gerheade - Mint

Origins: Mediterranean

Symbol of Hospitality and Wisdom

Gloxinia - Ginger

Origins: Maritime Southeast Asia

In many cultures, ginger is considered a symbol of love

Used in religious rituals to symbolize cleansing, protection and blessing.

Warm and spicy, with a hint of sweetness

Lancelot - Lemon

Origins: Unknown (said to be first grown in Northeast India, Northern Myanmar, or China)

Symbol of purity and cleansing

Headcanon Time

Since Nakaba hasn't spoken out about their scents I'll give my thoughts on the matter.

Lancelot introduced fruits into the mix of scents and Gloxinia smells like Ginger which is a root so I went ham with this.

Nasiens - Oleander or Sunflower

Oleander are toxic which is very fitting for our Mad Herbalist

Smells like Vanilla

Oleander symbolizes love, beauty, and resilience

I want one of Kiane's kids to smell like Sunflowers cause you know... Sunflower

Sunflowers also don't have a distinct smell so it's actually fitting for Nasiens since he grew up thinking he's human so there's really no natural fairy-like smell he could have detected from himself

Sunflower represents longevity, lasting happiness, adoration, and loyalty

Sixtus - Peach

Since Sixtus looks extremely like King I think it's only fitting if his scent is close to King's as well

Peaches symbolizes longevity

Belte - Jasmine

Belte gives Helbram energy and he kinda looks like him too so his scent also needs to give Helbram energy

Jasmine stands for purity, simplicity, modesty and strength.

Zana and Zillian - Blackberry and Raspberry

Since they're twins I want their scents to match

Blackberries are mild, sweet and slightly acidic scent, with earthy and woody nuances.

Some believed that blackberries contain properties of abundance and prosperity

Raspberries are fruity, sweet and slightly acidic

Raspberries are symbol of kindness in Christian art.

Tioreh - Pink Hyacinth

Phao - Lily of the Valley

Symbol of purity, joy, love, sincerity, happiness and luck,

Has a floral and green scent, with fresh and slightly sweet notes

I want one of Kiane's kids scents to come from the earth, something underground. There's an underground Orchid but it smells bad so that won't do so I specifically looked for a flower that has an earthy scent. I also want it to be PINK for Tioreh

Sweet, robust, and earthy

Pink hyacinths symbolize playful joy.

43 notes · View notes

captainjacklyn · 1 year

Note

Can i request a headcanon where the s/o gifts ruggie, malleus, neige, jamil, ace and azul crochet flowers that smells like the orginal flower ,atleast every month?

Istg crochet flowers are so pretty and i meant this, this, this , this, this, this, this, this, this , this and this and looooots of more.

How sweet ! You seem to like crochet flowers quite a lot, I'll do it ! (You are right, they're very pretty. This actually made me buy some-)

Pairing(s) : ruggie bucchi x reader, malleus draconia x reader, neige leblanche, Jamil viper x reader, Azul Ashengrotto x reader

Warning(s) : None ! The reader is gender neutral but I'll mostly be referring to you by..well- You.

Ruggie Bucchi

I would just like to say that Ruggie loves your bouquet. He appreciates the effort and he appreciates the gift, like, a lot.

Ruggie is the type to show love through acts of service but gifts have a different story to them.

Now the reason why I chose sunflowers was because they represent unwavering faith and unconditional love.

It's the perfect gift to those you love in order to express how much you adore them. It symbolizes faith and adoration for all that is, the true faith and loyalty to something that is much bigger and brighter than themselves.

Ruggie is flattered to know the meaning behind the flowers you give him. To think that someone admires him for his work despite being aware of his status as a not-so rich student.

He'll give the favor back, after all, in one way or another your actions will always come back to you.

But wether it is sunflowers, yellow tulips or daffodils. This hyena boy loves your work.

He's amazed that you can do this with your own hands- and it smells like the original flower too !

He keeps each of them in his room, all aligned on a shelf with a small space for more to come.

Ruggie cherishes you and your gifts. And he'll make sure to return the favor one day.

Malleus Draconia

The dragon fae was a little confused about the bouquet at first, he didn't instantly realize they weren't true flowers since the smell of it was there.

But once you handed them to him he notices the fine work of crochet that you've manufactured with your two hands alone.

And he's impressed ! Although it may not seem surprising, he would love to know more about the techniques and maybe even try it himself.

I'm sure you would be a wonderful teacher !

In the language of flowers, Salvia nemorosa holds the symbolic meaning of longevity, wisdom, esteem, and good health. Spiritual leaders have used salvia flowers in their religious rites and divination for centuries as a symbol of knowledge and connection to the divine source.

This instantly matched the tall man as I believe he would be the next king of faes.

And he's wise, Malleus will also remain youthful as his extended life span will allow him to.

His eyes sparkle upon seeing your eyes full of joy while presenting the wonderfully crafted masterpiece to him.

He loves it. He loves your work. He loves you. All of it.

Start doing it every week you'll end up becoming the next king/queen/ruler of briar valley alongside him.

Azul Ashengrotto

First of all- he's giving you something back after every single service, every single gifts because he feels in debt.

Just assure him that there is no need to offer anything back to you and that you enjoy doing it for him.

You don't expect anything to be returned to you, you actually like doing what you're doing.

Delphiniums symbolize cheerfulness and goodwill, as well as a protective plant. Delphiniums are used to communicate encouragement and joy, as well as remembering loved ones who have passed.

Now before you say anything- NO ONE is dead. Stop getting crazy conspiracy theories in your head I can see you- !

And to add to Azul's incredible ways of describing the food's taste here is a real quote of him after smelling you artificial yet beautiful flowers :

"Most are heat and drought tolerant, and their foliage and flowers are fragrant, with scents ranging from licorice to bubblegum. It's fantastic !"

Oh boy.

That was a strange feeling. I did not like writing that down...

MOVING ON.

But again he'll try to offer you something back, you're quick to notice and proceed to tell him that in exchange for your gifts he just has to keep them in his room and give them the biggest smile if he likes it.

What kind of payment is that [Name]-

Their deep red hues evoke feelings of passion, love, and lust — making them an especially popular choice for new, younger couples. They can also mean “believe me” or “my feelings are true.” Red tulips

You aren't in control, he isn't controlling you.

Your feelings are genuine and you love this snake bastard, just the way he is and not because of his status.

Lavender flowers represent purity, silence, devotion, serenity, grace, and calmness. Purple is the color of royalty and speaks of elegance, refinement, and luxury, too.

As much as he isn't a king or a prince, he's royalty in your eyes.

Daisies symbolize innocence and purity.

As much as he isn't all that innocent, the gift or in other words the bouquet your offering him is innocent and truthful.

It smells great too-

Similarly to ruggie, Jamil is the type to show is affection towards others by acts of service.

You can tell that he's trying to pay you back when he's paying ten times more attention to you.

HE EVEN FORGOT TO LOOK AFTER KALIM FOR GOODNESS SAKE-

anyways.

Many groups associate sunflowers with prolonged constancy and loyalty, reflecting the flower bud's tendency to follow the sun across the sky.

He'll never be more than a servant to the eyes of other, but you make him dream that no matter what. He remains your king.

Neige leblanche

Neige is ecstatic ! He loves it ! And they smell amazing too !

He was always offered gifts from his fans but yours mean so much more, especially when he can keep them forever !

Normal flowers go away in a few days but this one will remain with him, whenever he misses you, Neige will just glance at your magnificent crochet work.

You're the best you know that ?

Yellow tulips now represent happiness, cheerfulness, and hope. Victorians even believed yellow tulips literally meant “there's sunshine in your smile.” It's for this reason that yellow tulips have become popular “just because” gifts, as they are sure to bring a smile to anyone's face.

Blue tulips are variants of the white ones. They represent peace and tranquility. You may gift blue tulips to display your trust in a person.

The sweet simplicity and genuine beauty of the daisy have made the flower an international emblem of innocence and purity. Its fresh, crisp appearance has come to symbolize new beginnings, and its bright, spirit-lifting colors are known to spread happiness like wildfire.

The biblical meaning of lavender symbolizes purity, devotion, and love. The color is also associated with the crown chakra, which is the energy center associated with higher purpose and spiritual connectivity.

The pink tulip is a symbol for caring and good wishes. It's perfect for a gift for friends or family.

I chose a bouquet filled with nothing but good wishes, happiness and care for Neige. I know many are suspicious of him, but in my eyes he is the sweetest to exist.

Well I'm done now. I hope you liked it.

459 notes · View notes